TT Extra 1

Chen Ting had tried to lose weight three times, and failed three times. The reason could be summed up in just three syllables. Pei Yiyao.

There was a kind of “skinny” in this world that only existed when Pei Yiyao decided you were skinny.

Whenever he thought Chen Ting had lost weight, he would pinch his cheeks, wrap an arm around his waist, lift him right off the ground to gauge the weight, then declare with a deadly serious face, “You’ve gotten thinner.”

Chen Ting had protested this meat-market method of weighing, but Pei Yiyao never learned his lesson.

Chen Ting had considered revenge. He figured the best way was to drag Pei Yiyao down with him and make him gain weight too. But no matter how much he poked and prodded, those six-pack abs never showed the slightest sign of merging into a one-pack.

Forget it. Six-pack is better anyway. If Pei Yiyao actually got fat and stopped looking good, maybe I wouldn’t like him anymore, Chen Ting thought.

Even with all the failures, Chen Ting’s weight loss journey didn’t stop. When cycling didn’t do the trick, he set his sights on the campus gym inside the library.

There were two gyms at N University. One in the sports center, one in the library. The sports center gym was full of muscleheads, all “heh heh ha ha” all day long, constantly trying to one-up each other. Their biceps were so huge that just looking at them made Chen Ting anxious.

The library gym was much better. It had a scholarly vibe. You could walk up to anyone there and odds were, they’d be lifting dumbbells in one hand and reciting Japanese syllabary with the other.

N University was full of geniuses. That was a fact.

Rumor had it that the two gyms once held a head-to-head competition. Gou Ge did a whole exposé on it, and when he finished, he only had one comment. These people clearly didn’t have enough homework.

Chen Ting had gone in just wanting to lose weight quietly, but quickly realized he did not fit the gym aesthetic at all. All around him were sweaty, grunting dudes throwing around weights, while he sat off to the side slowly curling dumbbells.

He had a thing for lifting stuff. Anything, really. And weirdly enough, he was kind of strong. After all, people did used to call him the “Shot Put Prince.”

But the real reason he didn’t fit in had nothing to do with him. It was Pei Yiyao. Again. Like always. Pei Yiyao was like a mountain, parked squarely in the middle of his weight loss path and utterly immovable.

Pei Yiyao refused to let him go to the gym alone. Every time, he insisted on going with him. And every time, Chen Ting’s weight loss plan turned into Cool Guy’s showcase.

There was no machine Pei Yiyao couldn’t master. And whenever he used one, he somehow looked effortlessly cool. Every drop of sweat on him seemed aged eighteen years and bottled in pure hormone.

There was no way Chen Ting could avoid getting flustered. That was his boyfriend. But still, it was too much. He was the one trying to shed pounds, and Pei Yiyao was just there drawing in admirers.

Ever since they started showing up together, girls had begun strolling past the gym at all hours under every excuse imaginable. Some even just stood at the windows and watched. The ones who got shy were actually the gym bros inside.

So, Chen Ting took up boxing.

Left hook, right hook, hng hng ha ha, bam bam pow. The punching bag swung wildly under his fists. Black headband. Red gloves. One seventy-three of pure Chen Ting, ready to rumble.

“Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow!” Chen Ting went all in on the punching bag, flushed with joy and adrenaline.

“You’ve got this, Ting Ting!”

“Amazing!”

“So handsome!”

“One more, hit it again!”

A bunch of girls stood around cheering him on. There were even a few guys.

But Chen Ting rarely got to finish a full round before getting interrupted by the cold-faced Cool Guy, who would step in with some excuse about bringing him water or handing him a towel. With those long legs of his, Pei Yiyao could block him with barely any effort. His eyes flicked down to Chen Ting’s sweaty neck as he draped the towel over it in silence.

Chen Ting said, “You trying to give me a heat rash?”

Pei Yiyao replied, “Wiping your sweat.”

Chen Ting blinked. “Then wipe it.”

So Pei Yiyao did as told. The soft towel swept across his collarbone, then slowly up toward the base of his throat, where his Adam’s apple shifted with each gulp of water. Pei Yiyao stared as he wiped. His hand dropped back to his side, but the air between them grew heavier, the kind of tension that told everyone else to stay far, far away.

This was a whole different aesthetic.

Compared to this pink-toned, practically glowing flirt-fest, everyone else in the gym suddenly felt like wheezing mountain gorillas on jungle swings.

No one knew why, but once Chen Ting and Pei Yiyao showed up, nobody wanted to take their shirts off anymore.

Whoever took their shirt off first would look like the gay one.

Luckily, the awkwardness did not last long. Even Chen Ting began to feel a little self-conscious, so he dropped the gym idea entirely. Although the two of them were already out, they never made any formal announcement at school. Other than a few close friends like Yang Shulin and Juan Ge, they simply did not concern themselves with what anyone else thought. And since they did not care, there was never any real need to explain.

They didn’t hide it, but they didn’t broadcast it either. People could think whatever they wanted. Some folks at school obviously didn’t support or understand them, but compared to the harsher world outside, campus life was more open-minded, more accepting.

And if anyone ever did come looking for trouble, Chen Ting had Yang Shulin on standby, ready to launch into battle in eight different languages.

Unfortunately, no one ever came to start anything.

With no chance to prove his worth, Yang Shulin was starting to feel like a hero with nowhere to go. So Chen Ting invited him to play basketball instead. If Pei Yiyao was going to get jealous, then Chen Ting would stop going to the gym and let Pei Yiyao teach him basketball one-on-one. Surely he would have nothing to be jealous about now, right?

And Pei Yiyao really did stop getting jealous. But since Yang Shulin was there, he decided to call up Gao Duo as well.

Gao Duo had graduated from his master’s program last semester. These days, he worked at a museum, nine to five, living like a retired civil servant.

Even so, every time he came back to campus to play ball, he still showed up in full Armani, a Cartier watch on his wrist, and his hair meticulously styled. He looked like he had just flown in from Paris.

Yang Shulin found it impressive. Once, he even asked Gao Duo why he did not just become a model instead. Gao Duo’s answer: “I am a man of ambition. I have higher ideals.”

Yang Shulin was deeply moved, and then immediately got crushed on the court by one of Gao Duo’s jump shots.

Gou Ge had graduated too. According to Yang Shulin, he had landed a job at a publishing house and was currently grinding his way through the real university of society. As for Yang Shulin, he still had not become the head of the campus news group, mainly because he had yet to turn in a single article anyone liked.

His writing was like his basketball skills. Full of holes, all over the place.

Chen Ting wasn’t much of a player, but that wasn’t the point. He was here to lose weight, and when push came to shove, he pulled out his secret technique: dribbling.

At N University, there was hardly ever a free basketball court. Sometimes, Pei Yiyao would join pickup games with other students. Chen Ting would sit on the sidelines, dribbling a ball while watching. He liked watching Pei Yiyao play. He liked it even more when he won.

Yang Shulin teased, “Do you still remember that five-yuan story?”

“Of course I do,” Chen Ting said. How could he forget? That thing was still floating around on the school forums. Every now and then someone would dig it back up, a classic case study for freshmen. The upperclassmen used it to teach new students: see this? Don’t go chasing the campus heartthrob. It is pointless.

Chen Ting suddenly stood up. “Wanna go get popsicles?”

“Now? Pei Yiyao’s still playing. If he looks around and doesn’t see you, he’s gonna start searching.”

“Who cares. Let’s go.”

Chen Ting took off running, fast as ever.

Yang Shulin scrambled after him. The two of them ran all the way to the campus convenience store. Each got a classic-style popsicle and a bottle of water, then sat on the steps out front, happily snacking.

A moment later, a shadow fell over Chen Ting.

Chen Ting looked up and saw Pei Yiyao standing there, slightly out of breath. His hair was damp with sweat and pushed back from his forehead, sharp-browed and handsome, effortlessly cool.

“You’re already done playing?” Chen Ting asked, surprised.

“Half-court,” Pei Yiyao replied.

“Then why’d you come over?”

“I was playing for you.”

What he meant was clear: if you’re not there, what’s the point? Chen Ting got the message immediately. He patted the empty spot beside him and handed over his bottle of water. “Sit for a bit.”

Pei Yiyao sat down, twisted the cap off, and gulped down several long swigs. His elbows rested on his knees, the muscles in his arms smooth and defined.

Chen Ting’s ears turned a little red.

Yang Shulin quietly scooted farther away.

Pei Yiyao set the water bottle down, then glanced at the half-eaten popsicle still in Chen Ting’s hand. “Is it good?”

Chen Ting nodded. “Yeah, tastes kind of like those old-school popsicles we used to eat as kids. Remember the one I made at home? It’s pretty much the same.”

Right then, Pei Yiyao leaned over and took a bite straight from Chen Ting’s hand, answering with action. “Yeah. Pretty close.”

“Who said you could eat that?” Chen Ting flared up. There was only half left, and he’d just taken a huge bite. Chen Ting was trying to lose weight. He only allowed himself one popsicle a day, and now half of it was gone.

“I’ll buy you another,” Pei Yiyao said calmly.

“I don’t want it.”

“Mousse cake, then?”

“I swear, if you say ‘cake’ one more time, I’ll break up with you.”

Pei Yiyao immediately changed tactics. “My mom wants you to come over for dinner this weekend.”

Chen Ting frowned. “That’s not called dinner. That’s called fattening livestock.”

“Beef Noodle misses you.”

“Tch.”

I swear your whole brain is just stuffed with garbage.

Chen Ting really wanted to say no, but when an invitation came from a parent, he couldn’t actually turn it down. So as soon as Saturday rolled around, he climbed into Pei Yiyao’s car and set off once again on his journey to be stuffed full like a prize pig.

Truthfully, his body was not all that fat. While he wasn’t exactly skinny, his figure was pretty well-proportioned. The real problem was his face. It had always been soft and round with a bit of baby fat, and the moment he gained any weight, a double chin would show.

“Aunt Ruan, I’m back!” Chen Ting called as he bounded into the house. He tossed his backpack onto the couch and immediately scooped up Beef Noodle, who had come charging toward him.

These days, Chen Ting was clearly Beef Noodle’s new favorite. Pei Yiyao had long since been forgotten. The same went for Ruan Xin. Compared to her own son, the ever-cheerful Chen Ting who always greeted her with that bright “I’m back!” was much more lovable.

At dinner, as expected, Chen Ting overate again.

Later, Pei Yiyao heartlessly shut the door on Beef Noodle, who had been trying to follow them into the bedroom. When he turned around, he saw Chen Ting lying face down on the bed like an ostrich, his head buried in a pillow and his butt sticking up in the air.

Chen Ting was lost in thought. If he ate a lot, would he maybe get taller?

A second later, Pei Yiyao pounced, wrapping him up from behind and pinning him down onto the bed.

Chen Ting’s inner alarm bells rang at full volume. “What are you doing?”

Pei Yiyao replied, “Didn’t you say you wanted to lose weight?”

Time to get some exercise.