Chapter 51

Qi Yichuan couldn't hold him back, offered to send Wen Fu home.

Wen Fu only let him help hail a cab, and when Qi Yichuan said he'd personally see him home, Wen Fu refused — that'd just waste someone's time.

Right before getting in, he suddenly turned to Qi Yichuan and opened his backpack: 'What do you want to eat?'

Qi Yichuan glanced inside. Almost nothing but snacks.

'Nah, I don't really snack.' Qi Yichuan pushed him into the car. 'Text me when you get home, yeah? Oh — what's your QQ?'

Wen Fu slowly dug out his phone again.

'Never mind, just give it to me next time.'

The driver up front had been waiting too long, and Wen Fu was still dragging his feet. Qi Yichuan shut the door and leaned toward the driver's seat: 'Hey, take it easy on the speed, yeah?'

Then to Wen Fu: 'See you at school!'

Lingang District was far from home — even crawling, the cab needed at least half an hour.

Before heading out, Fei Bolin had slipped Wen Fu two hundred yuan. Wen Fu sat in the cab hugging his backpack and, in one go, ate every snack Fei Bolin had stuffed in there plus two cartons of milk.

When he timed it just right and strolled into the Residential Complex, Lin's Convenience Store was shut as expected. Fei Bolin was probably cooking at home.

Wen Fu lingered downstairs, looking at trees, looking at grass, then shouldered his backpack, soaked up some sun, and stepped into the building, climbing one floor at a time.

Behind him, the dappled tree shadows swayed across the ground in the spring breeze.

On his feet were a pair of white sneakers Fei Bolin had bought him, meant for early summer — light and clean. They were originally a preorder, and Fei Bolin hadn't expected the shop to ship them a full half-month early. Once they arrived home, he'd steeled himself to wait until the weather warmed up before letting Wen Fu wear them. But Wen Fu had spotted the new shoes, said nothing, didn't ask, and every morning spent ten minutes squatting in front of the shoe rack just quietly admiring them.

Fei Bolin always folded for soft tactics — and since Wen Fu was heading to Qi Yichuan's place that morning, he figured he should at least dress him up nice, so he decided to let Wen Fu wear the new shoes after all.

It was warm today. Wen Fu wore one of Fei Bolin's old white sweatshirts up top, with light khaki denim shorts Fei Bolin had paired for him on the bottom, and the new shoes with a fresh pair of white socks — he looked like a middle schooler on a spring field trip.

Right now Wen Fu was staring down at his shoes, one foot then the other, counting the steps on the way up like it was the most fun thing in the world.

At lunch Fei Bolin usually left the front door open — the apartment hallway was narrow, and the door faced the balcony, so it let some air through.

Wen Fu stepped into the living room past the entryway and caught Fei Bolin just finishing setting out the food on the table.

He peeked out from behind the white-painted wall toward the table: 'Bo-ge?'

Fei Bolin was holding a bowl of rice in his hand, but the dishes on the table were clearly for two.

Hearing Wen Fu's voice, Fei Bolin's hand holding the rice paused — but he didn't look up.

He helped himself to some vegetables and asked offhandedly: 'Why'd you come back all of a sudden?'

'To eat.' Wen Fu walked over, tossed his deflated backpack onto the sofa, and took big strides toward the kitchen.

Fei Bolin said: 'Didn't make you any food.'

Wen Fu glanced back at him, gave a little hum, lifted his chin, and went to the kitchen to open the rice cooker — inside was clearly the usual portion for two.

Fei Bolin really hadn't expected him back. Cooking for two was just a precaution in case Wen Fu suddenly came home with nothing to eat — what if he wasn't having fun out there? It wasn't impossible.

Wen Fu scooped out a big ladle of rice, pressed it down with the back of the spoon, and scooped out two servings — so he wouldn't have to go back and forth for more.

He brought the rice to the table and noticed Fei Bolin had barely touched his chopsticks — he'd been waiting to eat together.

Wen Fu grabbed two ribs, ladled out a scoop of potato-braised chicken leg, and buried his face in the rice.

Fei Bolin picked up a bite of rice with his chopsticks, put it in his mouth, then swept his eyes over Wen Fu: 'Wasn't fun?'

Wen Fu mumbled through a mouthful: 'It was fun.'

He'd never before sat through that many episodes of anime in one whole morning.

Fei Bolin: 'Then why'd you come back so early?'

Wen Fu, naturally: 'To eat, obviously.'

Fei Bolin was the most stubborn talker there was — Wen Fu would never say it was because he knew Fei Bolin wanted him back.

'Qi Yichuan's place has food too.'

'Not food Bo-ge made.'

Only then did Fei Bolin smile.

Wen Fu ate two and a half bowls of plain rice. Fei Bolin noticed he wasn't eating as much as usual and asked, thoughtfully: 'Did you share the snacks with Qi Yichuan?'

Wen Fu had just finished resting and was curling up under the covers to sleep. Hearing that, he froze mid-motion: 'Shared them.'

He'd shared them, anyway. Whether Qi Yichuan ate them was Qi Yichuan's problem.

Fei Bolin had only asked if he'd shared them, not whether Qi Yichuan ate them.

'Did you finish them?'

'Finished them.'

Wen Fu figured: Fei Bolin only asked if they were finished, not who finished them.

He let out an exaggerated yawn, cutting off whatever Fei Bolin was about to ask next, and mumbled softly: 'I'm sleeping now, Bo-ge.'

'……'

Fei Bolin sat alone, deep in thought, staring at a backpack that didn't have a single snack left in it.

Was Qi Yichuan really so perfectly in sync with Wen Fu even when it came to eating?

The following weekend, the class groups rotated seats on their monthly schedule, and Fei Bolin's group just happened to land at the window seat by the main corridor.

Wen Fu's phone was kept by Fei Bolin himself during school. That night, during the last evening study period, when Qi Yichuan's texts came in, Wen Fu happened to still not be back in the classroom.

Of all nights, Wen Fu had forgotten to put his phone on silent. A buzz — not loud, not soft — came from the backpack. Fei Bolin's pen paused. He waited a moment, heard another buzz, and only then confirmed it was Wen Fu's phone going off.

He took the phone out of the bag and saw the messages were from an unknown number.

[Wen Fu, what class are you in again?]

[You're a day student, right? It's cool if I come find you now?]

The last period of evening study at Rongyi High School was only there to keep the boarders in line — day students could usually leave after the second-to-last period. So during that final session, day students wandering around the Teaching Building was technically allowed.

Fei Bolin flipped through Wen Fu's contacts. The only one with a note attached was himself.

Which meant Wen Fu had never saved Qi Yichuan's number.

Fei Bolin tapped into the call history for that number — only incoming calls, no outgoing. The two or three entries were from when Wen Fu had picked up Qi Yichuan's calls at home.

Just then, a third message came in.

[Do you read Silver Soul? I brought the tankōbon volumes.]

Fei Bolin had been feeling frustrated lately because Wen Fu's Chinese grades wouldn't budge higher — though compared to last semester they were much better. On recent weekly tests, Wen Fu's Chinese was holding steady at 90 to 100, and pushing it any further just wasn't happening.

Fei Bolin had been mulling over the past few days whether Wen Fu was too deep into anime, and was about to start limiting his weekly manga time — and Qi Yichuan's message landed right on that sore spot.

Wen Fu listened to Fei Bolin best of anyone, but every time his phone got taken away he dragged his feet — clearly hadn't gotten his anime fix yet.

But high school study time was tight as it was. Giving Wen Fu half a day a week for anime was already generous on his part — and this Qi Yichuan kept dangling little bribes in front of him.

Fei Bolin could be the bad guy all by himself — but someone swooping in to play the good guy with Wen Fu was a different story entirely.

Fei Bolin typed on the keyboard: [No], and was about to hit send — but his fingertip wouldn't come down.

— He didn't really know anything about Silver Soul, only vaguely that it was a popular anime.

What if these volumes... were something Wen Fu really wanted to read, really loved?

Something he'd been looking forward to, right there within reach — only to be shut out by him without even knowing. Wouldn't Wen Fu be heartbroken?

Fei Bolin stared at the two characters he'd typed but not sent in the chat box — couldn't bring himself to send them, but couldn't agree either.

If only there were some way to let Wen Fu read all the manga he wanted without it getting in the way of studying.

An inexplicable irritation crept in. He turned off the phone, stuffed it back in the bag, and decided to ignore it for now.

About twenty minutes passed — half a class — and suddenly the sound of knuckles on glass rang in Fei Bolin's ear.

Fei Bolin and Xie Yining both looked up at the sound, turning toward the window.

Outside the window was Qi Yichuan's big grinning face.

— Actually, Qi Yichuan's face wasn't big. His features and face shape were both good-looking — otherwise he wouldn't have become a household-name idol in the entertainment industry ten years later. But right now, pressed flat against the window, the visual impact was just too much.

His looks were nothing like Fei Bolin's clean-cut handsomeness. If Fei Bolin was polite and refined, always putting out distance, accidentally letting slip a few hints of gloom and pallor — then Qi Yichuan was the complete opposite.

He was healthy and sunny, his smile clear, his buzz cut shaved clean, his skin a wheat tan from constant time in the sun — as if, whenever he wanted, he could be anyone's best friend in an instant.

Like right now — completely unbothered by how he looked, plastered against the window. He spotted Fei Bolin, whom he'd only met twice, and grinned first. Then his eyes landed on Xie Yining, whom he'd never met, and he grinned at her too. Then he mouthed at them: 'Where's Wen Fu?'

That question made Fei Bolin and Xie Yining realize Wen Fu hadn't been in the classroom since the break.

On some inexplicable impulse, Xie Yining glanced at Su Haoran's seat — and sure enough, he wasn't there either.

The two of them exchanged a knowing look and, without a word, both got up from their seats and headed out of the classroom.

Qi Yichuan had no idea what was going on. Seeing them head downstairs, he scratched his head and followed.

By the drainpipe at the first-floor entrance, two dark figures were huddled together, a phone screen flickering in front of them.

'Do re mi...'

Wen Fu and Su Haoran looked up at the sound and met a pair of furious eyes.

Xie Yining pinched her nose and squeezed between the two of them, only then realizing that she herself, last time she'd squatted here secretly watching anime, had really been a bit stinky: 'You're watching Slam Dunk — you betrayed me!!'

Wen Fu blinked.

Su Haoran blinked.

Xie Yining blinked furiously.

Wen Fu shot up and bolted.

Xie Yining went to chase after him, but Su Haoran grabbed her around the waist from behind: 'Ningning... Ningning!'

'Let go of me!' Xie Yining, furious, elbowed Su Haoran and pointed at Wen Fu in accusation: 'Didn't you promise me you wouldn't watch it?!'

And with that, she ran after him.

Wen Fu darted through the grass, and when he saw there was nowhere left to run, he scooted behind Fei Bolin to hide. Wherever Xie Yining came from, he'd grab Fei Bolin's arm and duck that way — playing eagle-and-chicks, dodging left and right.

Fei Bolin: '……'

Fei Bolin stood stiff as a board.

The person behind him smelled bad... could they maybe back up a little...

But it's Xiao Fu...

But they stink... could they please not touch him...

But it's Xiao Fu...

But they really do stink... he's about at his limit...

But the other person is Xiao Fu...

Fei Bolin sighed and blocked Xie Yining: 'Security's about to do their rounds.'

Only then did Xie Yining stop.

Qi Yichuan was laughing his head off on the side. Seeing them call a truce, he came over with two Silver Soul tankōbon volumes and ruffled Wen Fu's hair: 'Don't crowd around here watching anime with people. Here — take these home, read them nice and slow.'

Wen Fu was captivated by the Silver Soul cover.

Fei Bolin, meanwhile, was captivated by the hand Qi Yichuan had placed on Wen Fu's head.

Wen Fu happened to look up at Fei Bolin and noticed him staring, dazed, at the hand on his head. Without a word, Wen Fu shifted behind Fei Bolin, and Qi Yichuan's hand naturally fell away.

'Bo-ge,' Wen Fu flipped through the manga and looked up at Fei Bolin, 'Can I take it home to read?'

Fei Bolin had his back to the classroom behind him, his expression lost in the dim dark: 'Read it if you want.'

Over there, Qi Yichuan introduced himself to Su Haoran and Xie Yining and, being naturally outgoing, became fast friends with them.

The whole group was making a ruckus when the dismissal bell rang. Xie Yining and Su Haoran were boarders; the other three walked out of the School together.

At the School Gate, Qi Yichuan said goodbye to Wen Fu: 'Oh right, don't you like playing the Violin? This weekend I'll have my dad bring my Violin and the sheet music over — come hang out at my place, yeah?'

Wen Fu blinked, then turned to look at Fei Bolin.

Fei Bolin knew better than anyone that Wen Fu loved music, loved the Violin, loved singing.

There was no Violin at home, and where they lived didn't allow Wen Fu to play instruments inside — apartment buildings had terrible soundproofing; if someone upstairs knocked over a chair, you could hear it downstairs. Playing an instrument at home would just be disturbing the neighbors.

Fei Bolin smiled again: 'Go if you want to.'

Only then did Wen Fu nod at Qi Yichuan.

Qi Yichuan grinned wide and waved at Wen Fu: 'Then I'll pick you up this weekend!'

With that, he got into a cab.

Fei Bolin stood beyond the School Gate, the stream of people flowing past between them, and fell into a brief reverie over Qi Yichuan.

He'd never once shown anyone such an unguarded smile — and he knew perfectly well he'd never be able to show a smile like that to anyone, ever.

When Fei Bolin wasn't talking to anyone, his face was always overcast — eyes lowered at the road, eyes lowered at his work. In every unguarded angle, Fei Bolin's eyes were dark, like a film covering him. When someone tried to talk to him, Fei Bolin would raise his eyes, and that film would be hidden in an instant, replaced by his standard, polite, mild expression.

Even with Wen Fu — at first he'd just thought it was interesting, like playing with a stray cat for fun. He hadn't planned on taking care of him.

So when Wen Fu first barged into his home, he hadn't been welcoming or happy — he'd been annoyed, helpless, right?

Even just now by the flower bed, he'd only endured it to the limit because the person behind him was Wen Fu — he hadn't pushed him away.

And Qi Yichuan could just, without a care in the world, reach out and ruffle Wen Fu's hair — didn't matter if Wen Fu was clean or dirty, smelled good or bad.

If, back then last year, Wen Fu had met Qi Yichuan first — what room would there have been for him?

Qi Yichuan was bright, enthusiastic — the moment he met Wen Fu he wanted to pull out everything he loved and pile it in front of him to make him happy. Fei Bolin knew that even knowing everything about Wen Fu's past, Qi Yichuan would still take him in without a second thought. A personality like that — anyone would like it, not just Wen Fu.

Fei Bolin knew even more clearly: Wen Fu chose him because Wen Fu met him first, on that sixteenth birthday.

If Qi Yichuan hadn't shown up later, who Wen Fu would have liked more was obvious.

If he hadn't been lucky, even Wen Fu would only ever have been someone else's.

Someone else's... little brother.

'...Bo-ge?'

While Fei Bolin was thinking all this, Wen Fu was sitting completely naked on the little stool in front of him, looking up at him.

The two of them were in the bathroom, like always. To save time, Fei Bolin had Wen Fu read the manga in his hands while bathing, while he — still in his jeans — washed Wen Fu's hair.

'What's up?' he asked, snapping back.

Wen Fu said: 'Soap.'

Fei Bolin handed him the soap.

Wen Fu didn't take it: 'You put it on for me.'