13

The air was silent without a sound. Xu Yan suddenly felt a sense of relief—he had finally said it after all, though he hadn't originally wanted to speak. But he could understand Shen Zhi's feelings: a fool who had clung to him for four years suddenly turned and ran away—anyone would be wary, suspecting some trick or game was being played. If Shen Zhi needed a clear answer, then he would give it to him. At least this way, he could say goodbye with dignity, and they could each head toward a new horizon.

Xu Yan had never planned to be vague or evasive; he just hadn't expected Shen Zhi to be this exacting, insisting he say the ending out loud with his own mouth.

It really did seem there was nothing left to say. Xu Yan looked at Shen Zhi—he'd expected Shen Zhi to show at least a little happiness, or at the very least look a bit lighter, since he was finally free of him. Even at this point, Xu Yan still wanted to see him smile. While they were together, it seemed he'd never made Shen Zhi happy—if today this full stop could coax a smile out of him, then Xu Yan would at least have been of some final use.

But no. Shen Zhi's expression hadn't changed at all; he just stared straight at him. Xu Yan couldn't pick out any emotion in it. Several seconds passed before he realized—Shen Zhi wasn't thinking, wasn't pondering anything. He was spacing out.

Must be too happy, then... Xu Yan tugged the corner of his mouth, took hold of his suitcase again, turned and pushed the door open. This door was the finish line—once it closed, he'd never have anything more to do with Shen Zhi in this lifetime. That was fine, too.

The crack of the door grew smaller and smaller, only a sliver of light leaking into the dark living room. Xu Yan's eyes suddenly stung; he felt it was so unfair—why, after all these years, was he still the only one feeling sad, feeling moved, tasting the pain? Why was Shen Zhi forever standing outside it all, untouched, unhurt? Just because he was the one who'd pursued, so everything he got was what he deserved? This scale was terribly fair, never tipping in his favor.

The lock tongue gently met the door frame. Xu Yan pressed down the handle—when, without warning, his wrist was struck hard, and the sliver of light suddenly swelled wide. Xu Yan looked up in surprise and saw Shen Zhi's face, backlit, cold and expressionless. The door was shoved open; Shen Zhi stood before him and called his name in a low voice: "Xu Yan." It sounded strangely unfamiliar—Shen Zhi almost never called him that, because whether he needed Xu Yan or not, Xu Yan was always at his side.

Xu Yan had a hunch that Shen Zhi was somewhat angry, but he couldn't think of anything worth being angry about. The person who'd clung to him for years had finally let go and gotten lost—returning a free, normal life to him. Why would he be angry?

"I don't have time to waste on you, and you don't need to threaten me like this." Shen Zhi said, word by word. "I'll pretend I never heard that."

Never heard what? Pretending he didn't hear me say we were over?

Those words sounded familiar. Xu Yan remembered—the first time he'd confessed, those were the exact words he'd gotten from Shen Zhi's mouth, not a syllable different.

Not long after the new semester of junior year started, it was Xu Yan's birthday. By then he'd already, through various means, gotten himself into a relationship with Shen Zhi—a friendship. That evening Shen Zhi hadn't come to dinner because he had something on; later, when they went to KTV, he showed up. Xu Yan had already been plied to about sixty or seventy percent drunk. When his classmates heckled Shen Zhi into singing, Xu Yan clapped along with a silly grin—Shen Zhi didn't sing; he'd had a cold those past few days, his throat sore and hoarse.

Cake-cutting time. Xu Yan had a paper crown perched on his head; because he wasn't clear-headed, he forgot to make a wish and blew out all the candles in one breath. A classmate reached out, dipped a finger in cake, and smeared it on his face. Xu Yan didn't resist, just squatted on the ground, tilted his head back, and smiled like an idiot. Shen Zhi sat on the sofa beside him, watching.

After they'd finished mauling the cake, Xu Yan was thoroughly drunk as a dog. Those hidden, restrained, suppressed feelings, as his reason dissolved, gradually grew heavy and bold; his gaze almost never left Shen Zhi's face. Finally, the friend sitting between him and Shen Zhi went to the bathroom, and Xu Yan propped himself up and shifted a little toward Shen Zhi. The private room was very dark—only the big screen cast light, outlining Shen Zhi's features clearly, making him look especially still amid the surrounding noise. Xu Yan's Adam's apple bobbed, and he asked, "Is your throat still sore?"

Shen Zhi hadn't heard clearly. He tilted his head and leaned down a little, asking, "What?" His voice was a bit hoarse from the cold, the sound making one's ears go numb. They were very close—Xu Yan felt as though he was about to kiss the bridge of his nose. He looked at Shen Zhi's profile, and some words were held in his mouth like molten gold: swallowing them felt unwilling, spitting them out he feared would come to nothing. They rolled and turned, burning him with an unbearable pain.

Blame you for being too beautiful

Like a venomous snake, tightly binding our bond

Like an addiction with no end, no bottom

Finally spent every stratagem

Faith, too, has all withered

Blame me for being too obsessed

Exchanged for every kind of aftereffect of having loved you

……

Their Guangzhou classmates were singing Cantonese songs—authentic pronunciation, round and pretty, the unshowy tones like red sand drifting. Xu Yan suddenly felt Shen Zhi was a spider: one light tug of a thread and the whole of him would be wrapped and bound. He was addicted and struggling, but Shen Zhi hadn't noticed—everything he did was unintentional.

"Shen Zhi." The two of them maintained their close distance. Xu Yan looked at his eyelashes, as if about to count them one by one. He opened his mouth and said softly, "I think I really like you."

It wasn't 'think,' actually—it was really liking him. Xu Yan felt lucky he'd held something back, even luckier that he'd said it lightly; maybe Shen Zhi hadn't heard. He wanted so badly to say it out loud, but feared that if Shen Zhi truly knew, he himself hadn't yet had time to consider the consequences. Today wasn't the best moment—but where was the best moment? Xu Yan didn't know. He only wanted to vent, even just a little.

He clearly saw Shen Zhi freeze for a moment, look down at him, then turn his head away, looking at the big screen.

He heard. Xu Yan thought. He also knew he'd been impulsive, had made a mistake.

A song ended. Shen Zhi picked up a drink from the coffee table, took a sip, then said, "I'm heading out first." He said hello to the people around him—but didn't look at Xu Yan, didn't speak to him—and got up to walk toward the door.

The door pulled open, then closed again. Xu Yan stared at that door; he suddenly wanted an answer. Although he already had one in his heart, Shen Zhi hadn't said it himself, so it didn't count. Xu Yan quickly stood up and stumbled running out. A classmate, thinking he was drunk and about to throw up, hurried after him. Xu Yan turned his head at the door and said, "I'm fine—I'm walking Shen Zhi out."

Shen Zhi had already reached the corner. Xu Yan ran a few steps and called out loudly, "Shen Zhi!" The footsteps stopped; Shen Zhi turned back. The light was poor, and Xu Yan couldn't see his face clearly—he just kept walking forward. When he reached Shen Zhi he was panting, fixed his eyes on Shen Zhi's, and said, "I really want to know."

Shen Zhi lowered his gaze to look at him, didn't speak. Xu Yan's heart was about to jump out of his chest; his whole body had no strength, and yet he forced himself to hold on with one breath. He went on, "I want to know what you're thinking." Knowing full well he was asking for trouble, he still had to ask—as if he wouldn't give up until the last layer was peeled back. But after peeling it back, could he really give up? Who knew.

Shen Zhi shifted his gaze, was silent for a moment, then said, "I'll pretend I never heard that."

He'd calculated everything except this answer. Xu Yan froze. He was already drunk, thinking was hard—this time he really was stunned for a long while. He felt his eyes reddening, but thankfully the corridor was dark so it couldn't be seen. In a very calm tone he said, "No."

"I said it. You heard it. You can't pretend it never happened."

More silence. Shen Zhi still wouldn't look at him. What was the point of any of this... Finally Xu Yan shook his head, smiled with difficulty, and said, "Forget it. Go back." Shen Zhi lowered his eyes, turned, and left—not even a goodbye, and from beginning to end he never wished Xu Yan a happy birthday.

Xu Yan stood in place watching his back, wishing so badly that Shen Zhi would turn and look at him—like when they passed the ball on the court, like when they ordered food together... People were truly greedy: you craved for him to look at you, but when he really did, you began to covet that his eyes held only you.

Now Shen Zhi wouldn't even look at him. Xu Yan thought—never again did he want to celebrate a birthday. Memories were terrible.

"When I confessed to you back then, you said you'd pretend you didn't hear it—why is it still the same words now?" Xu Yan looked at him and smiled. "I'm not threatening you, and I don't pose any threat to you. You don't have time to waste on me—good, I wasn't planning to waste your time anymore either." He had roughly figured out where Shen Zhi's anger lay—probably a sense of humiliation at being the one left, angry that he wasn't the one to say 'end' first; his pride couldn't get past it.

Shen Zhi's lips pressed into a line. He stared at Xu Yan, as if searching his face for evidence of bravado or joking—but Xu Yan's expression was too calm, not a single crack showing—because there was no crack to show. After a long moment, Shen Zhi slightly furrowed his brow, his chest rose and fell once, and only then said, "Do you know what you're sayi—"

"I'm tired from traveling back." This was the first time in years Xu Yan had cut Shen Zhi off mid-sentence. He raised his hand and snapped a crisp finger-snap by Shen Zhi's ear, then said, "So let's stop the nonsense. It's over—it's over. No need to doubt, it's not a dream. Baby, you're free. Wish you a pleasant life."

After saying this, he pressed Shen Zhi's shoulder and pushed him outward. Shen Zhi was caught off guard and instinctively retreated two steps. Xu Yan swiftly reached out, shut the door, and smoothly turned the deadbolt.