Chapter 23

Xu Yan hesitated for two seconds, didn't leave. Ji Huai straightened up and looked toward the door. Their eyes met. Ji Huai's expression was very calm—Xu Yan even felt that in that instant the other man looked open and relieved, as if a secret he'd hidden with great effort was finally exposed, no need to conceal it anymore, something reckless and abandoned about it.

On the living room balcony, Xu Yan lit a cigarette, then offered one to Ji Huai. Ji Huai took it but didn't light it.

"My head's a bit of a mess," Xu Yan said.

Ji Huai nodded. "That's understandable."

"When did it start?"

"I don't know." The cold wind blew through his hair and across his face. Ji Huai's gaze was fixed on nothing in particular. "It's been a long time. I've even forgotten myself."

"He's getting engaged."

"I know."

Xu Yan's head was pounding terribly, as if it would kill him. The more light and unbothered Ji Huai seemed, the worse he felt. He understood better than anyone the feeling of wanting what you can't have, knew how exhausting it was to love someone impossible—but at least he'd been with Shen Zhi for four years. Apart from mutual love, he'd done everything he could. But Ji Huai? Silently hiding it away, until he couldn't even remember how long he'd liked that person.

"Are you sick?" Xu Yan's voice trembled. Smoke hung in the air. His eyes stung sharply.

"Maybe." Ji Huai looked down, rolling the unlit cigarette between his fingers, then looked up and suddenly asked, "Do you know how long it takes from London to Paris?"

Xu Yan said nothing. He knew Ji Huai didn't need his answer. Ji Huai said, "Five hundred kilometers. An hour and a half by plane, two and a half hours on the Eurostar, five hours by car. I lived in London for six years and never once went to Paris."

Because Xu Nian was in Paris.

"I looked at the route over and over. Booked tickets. Then refunded them all. Many times."

"Xu Nian always said he'd come visit me. I refused every time, with all kinds of excuses. Three years ago at Christmas, he said he wanted to spend it with me. I said okay. At that point I thought, why not just say it. It's hard to bear. Just say it. No matter how bad it gets, I can take it."

"On Christmas Eve I went to the train station to pick him up. I'd bought a ring, thinking I'd either put it on him or throw it away. Who knew I wouldn't even get the chance to take it out—because the first thing Xu Nian said when he saw me was, 'Ji Huai-ge, I'm in a relationship. She's in Belgium.'"

"At that moment I felt like I'd stepped off into empty air. I looked down—no. Christmas, colorful lights everywhere, so pretty, but all I could think was, why is it so cold? Why is London so cold?"

"Enough." Xu Yan snubbed out the cigarette, face buried in his arm, voice hoarse. "Stop talking."

Ji Huai smiled. "Sometimes I envy you, being able to be with the person you love for so long. Sometimes I think you're the pitiful one, hurt this badly by the person you love."

"Neither of us has much luck." After a long while, Xu Yan answered.

An hour later, Xu Nian's girlfriend Ye Xuan arrived. She'd come back early specifically to give Xu Nian a surprise. Ji Huai poured her a glass of water and said, "Xu Nian had some alcohol. He's asleep."

"Mm, I'll just look in on him, leave the gift by the bed." Ye Xuan took a sip of water and smiled lightly.

But Xu Nian's nose was sharper than a dog's—he claimed he smelled his sister's perfume in his sleep and woke right up. The two came out of the room hand in hand, the bracelet Ji Huai had given him still on Xu Nian's wrist. He said, "Ge, I'm heading back."

"Still dizzy?" Xu Yan asked him.

"Not dizzy, I'm awake." Xu Nian was happy like a silly kid. "Jiejie said she'd make me a little cake! Ji Huai-ge, I'm off then."

"Mm." Ji Huai laughed softly. "Happy birthday."

Shen Zhi not only found the memory card and USB drive in the drawer, but also discovered a spare phone—also Xu Yan's. He hesitated a few seconds, plugged it in to charge, and turned it on. The password was four digits. He tried Xu Yan's birthday—wrong—so he used his own. It unlocked.

The phone was very clean. Some DSLR-exported photos, a few editing apps, some game apps. Shen Zhi opened Weibo and found it was a username made of random numbers and letters—no followers, no follows, like a zombie account. Clicking into the profile, Shen Zhi realized this was Xu Yan's alt account. Every post was visible only to himself.

The first post was over six years ago.

2014

"Military training, so tiring.

BBQ, so fragrant.

Shen Zhi, so handsome."

"Ran into Shen Zhi at the cafeteria, accidentally knocked over his orange juice..."

"I thought Shen Zhi wouldn't come to the Halloween party, but he came, and he was wearing a costume from an ancient drama.

I talked to him. I said the Tang Taizong you cosplayed looks pretty good. Shen Zhi said thanks.

Later my roommate told me Shen Zhi was cosplaying a Jinyiwei guard..."

"Christmas Eve, thought about hanging an apple on Shen Zhi's car door, but when I got there, it was already covered with them.

He drives a BMW, a BMW M series since freshman year. I'm class-envy now."

"Shen Zhi, happy birthday."

2015

"Basketball game, got photos of Shen Zhi, a lot of them. His legs are so long."

"Sent Shen Zhi a happy new year at midnight, no reply. He probably doesn't even know who I am."

"Why is winter break so long? Want school to start. Want to see if Shen Zhi got more handsome."

"Played basketball with Shen Zhi again.

Don't know which bastard stepped on my foot. I'm so mad."

"Shen Zhi, happy birthday."

2016

"My birthday, confessed to Shen Zhi, failed.

It's fine, this is normal."

"Hiding is so tiring. I want so badly to talk to you."

"Shen Zhi, happy birthday.

Kissed, also touched. Feels unreal."

"As expected, it's unreal. He wasn't calling me."

"Shen Zhi said we could try.

I said okay."

2017

"Sent Shen Zhi happy new year, still no reply."

"Valentine's Day, got drunk with Shen Zhi.

Tied our wrists, blindfolded me.

But I still saw.

1...8...centi...meters..."

"Shen Zhi doesn't remember today is my birthday."

"Shen Zhi, happy birthday."

2018

"Sent Shen Zhi happy new year, still no reply."

"A bit tired, don't know why."

"Went home, came out, got hit, face swollen for three days."

"Shen Zhi still doesn't remember my birthday."

"Shen Zhi, happy birthday."

2019

"Moved into Shen Zhi's place, happy. Does this count as living together?"

"I thought living together would at least mean spending New Year together. No.

Was playing with friends, went home specially, waited a long time. Shen Zhi didn't come back."

"Feels bad. We've never even fought, but it feels worse than fighting."

"Shen Zhi is a cold violence expert.

Can't put it that way either. He's always been like this.

Fine, I'm just being petty."

"I just want to hear you say happy birthday once. Why do you never remember."

"Shen Zhi, happy birthday."

2020

"New Year, waited over two hours. Shen Zhi still didn't come back."

"Tired, a bit can't breathe."

"So tired. After all this time, when will you look at me more, say one more word to me."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm less than a stranger to you."

"Waiting for you to love me is so painful, especially when I realized I might never get it in this lifetime."

"Want my dad to slap me again. Maybe this time it'll wake me up.

But it's been two years since I went home.

Xu Yan, you're an idiot."

"Always following behind you, really tired.

Shen Zhi, turn around and look at me."

"I want to believe you don't forget my birthday.

Because you just don't care."

"Turns out it's not that you don't like celebrating birthdays. You just don't like me celebrating yours.

Forget it, happy birthday."

"The girl you're getting engaged to is really pretty."

"It's fine. At least I have a clear conscience in this relationship.

Goodbye."

This year's few posts, looking at the client, were sent from Xu Yan's regular phone. He probably forgot where he'd put his spare phone. Not many posts, but Shen Zhi sat at the desk for a very long time, reading word by word. When he finally put down the phone his eyes were sore and stinging, his temples aching terribly. He slowly lay his head on the desk, face buried in his arms, breathing in a full-body tremor.

Some things he wasn't unaware of. But seeing those emotions recorded from Xu Yan's perspective, it was like reliving these six-plus years alongside him. Countless feelings doubled, deepened, sharpened into pain. Every word, every punctuation mark became a needle, piercing through the gaps in his heart, filling it. Each heartbeat made his whole chest ache, until finally dragging pain through every part of his body without exception.

In another drawer he discovered sleeping pills Xu Yan had hidden. The bottle was wrapped with a strip of sticky notes, in Xu Yan's handwriting: Why are you coming to find it again! Isn't having me to sleep with enough!

It used to be enough. But now you've left, so it's not enough anymore.

That night Shen Zhi took sleeping pills, but strangely he still couldn't sleep, instead sinking deeper and deeper into dream after dream.

He dreamed of the first time he saw Xu Yan—actually before the BBQ stall incident. Under the blazing sun of military training, Xu Yan had snuck off to the water fountain to wash his face, even getting half his head wet, chatting and laughing quietly with classmates while shaking water off his head like a puppy. He had happened to pass by at that moment, and remembered that face.

He dreamed of the basketball court—no matter when he looked at Xu Yan, his camera was always pointed at himself. That so-called candid masterpiece he'd seen, the credit "Photography by Xu Yan" at the end of the post he'd seen too. He remembered. Many times he wanted to ask Xu Yan what he'd taken, show me, but Xu Yan always stood far away, and would look away the moment their eyes met.

He dreamed of the school anniversary one year, Xu Yan going on stage to play guitar and sing solo. That night he sat in the second row, the spotlight on Xu Yan, but Xu Yan seemed to keep looking at him, his singing voice clear and beautiful—the world is noisy and chaotic, what is real, for you I stumble and laugh foolishly buying a cup of juice. Even if I live a mediocre busy life my whole life, I want to dedicate every second, every year, every day to protecting you, the smallest things...

He dreamed of Xu Yan's nervous and clumsy expression when confessing. Dreamed of his birthday that night when he was drunk, their first kiss, Xu Yan whispering happy birthday in his ear afterward. Dreamed of their first night on Valentine's Day, Xu Yan blindfolded, arms around his neck, repeatedly whispering I like you, Shen Zhi I like you, then his voice breaking, Xu Yan losing composure saying Shen Zhi you've never said you like me, but he never answered.

He dreamed of Xu Yan's smile, dreamed of Xu Yan's expression when saying every word to him, dreamed of the expectation and hesitation in Xu Yan's eyes, dreamed of when his wrist was injured, Xu Yan coming with fish soup wrapped in gauze, later learning Xu Yan had burned his hand making the soup... not a dream, not a dream at all, none of it was a dream, all real memories—how could he lose Xu Yan?

The sleeping pills completely failed. Waking from midnight dreams, Shen Zhi sat up, in the pitch-black room asking himself over and over—how could he accept losing Xu Yan like this. Clearly Xu Yan loved him so much. Clearly they actually... actually loved each other. It was just that someone held a grudge over a cup of wine from four years ago, because of an awkward cold personality took it for granted, kept avoiding and refusing to admit it, kept on, kept on.