Chapter 24
Ten years had passed. The school’s literary club still existed but had changed. The old room now had several small bookshelves—a miniature library.
Fang Jing Yao peered through the window. “Those tables seem to still be there, though it’s hard to see. Maybe the principal was stingy and didn’t replace them… Long Yu, do you think the old principal is still around? He must’ve retired by now.”
Long Yu ignored him, found an old wire, and fiddled with the lock a few times.
Fang Jing Yao, noticing the sound, turned and gasped: “Hey, what are you doing?”
Long Yu: “Unlocking it.”
Fang Jing Yao: “No, you’re picking the lock!”
“Click.” The lock opened.
Long Yu removed it and shook it at Fang: “It’s open.”
Fang Jing Yao looked at the lock in disbelief and then at Long Yu. “I didn’t know you could do this. When did you learn?”
Long Yu smiled: “These locks are similar to the dorm ones. Any boy who’s lived on campus can open them. One wire could open the whole floor—ten or eight locks isn’t a problem.”
Fang Jing Yao laughed, recalling dorm life: “Others I could see, but you, top student, doing this?”
Long Yu: “Curiosity.”
Fang Jing Yao didn’t understand, so Long Yu explained: “Once a student got publicly criticized for opening two rows of lockers with a meal card. Next day, he used a wire to open the classroom lock…”
Fang Jing Yao blushed furiously and interrupted: “How do you still remember that… wait, where did you hear it? I was in first year, sharing a room with the chubby guy. He forgot his locker key, begged me to open it. I couldn’t damage school property, so I tried with the meal card. Later, everyone learned it, and it spread fast, and those kids even exposed me!”
Long Yu asked curiously: “The self-criticism report read aloud Monday after the flag ceremony—was that actually yours?”
Fang Jing Yao, embarrassed and angry: “…I don’t remember!”
Seeing Fang’s flustered face, Long Yu stopped teasing, feeling better. He pushed open the door: “Shall we go in?”
Fang Jing Yao, resigned: “Let’s go, the door’s open, can’t not enter.”
Inside, the room was small, filled with three or five rows of bookshelves. In the corners were stacked old desks, their paint chipped with age.
Long Yu stood by a shelf, picked up a file box, opened it, and read: “Notification list.”
Fang Jing Yao leaned over. “Ten years later, the school still has blacklists? I was constantly criticized and reported—couldn’t even move a pencil in class. And you, top student, if a teacher saw you picking a lock, you’d be on the list too!”
Long Yu chuckled: “Then I need to ask you first how to write a self-criticism. I’ve never written four thousand words before.”
Fang Jing Yao: “…How do you remember everything so clearly?”
Long Yu glanced at him, eyes sparkling with amusement: “It’s my first time encountering something like this in all these years of studying. Naturally, I remember it longer.”
Fang Jing Yao said painfully: “Actually, that time it was a group self-criticism for our whole dorm. The homeroom teacher had the six of us each write eight hundred words to read under the flag.”
Long Yu asked curiously: “Then why were you the only one who went in the end?”
“…I was too cheeky. Just as I was leaving the teacher’s office, I said, ‘Eight hundred words? Easy, I can write it in a minute.’ Who knew the teacher was following right behind me!” Fang Jing Yao explained. “You should’ve seen our homeroom teacher’s face—black as a pot bottom. He said, ‘If it’s that easy, then you write it all, go read it alone.’ And those little brats all nodded, so I ended up reading four thousand words alone.”
Long Yu couldn’t help laughing. Fang Jing Yao’s face burned with embarrassment, and he tried to justify himself: “You can’t blame me for being capable with my hands, right? That school lock was so easy to open. Forget a wire, even a noodle stick could poke it open. The principal didn’t reflect on himself and made me do all the self-criticism!” He glanced around and dragged Long Yu along. “Look at that broken lock at the door. Ten years and it hasn’t been changed. Your lock-picking skills from abroad haven’t gotten rusty, have they?”
Long Yu chuckled softly. Fang Jing Yao glared at him. “Stop laughing, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
Long Yu looked up and met those unusually bright eyes, full of embarrassment and anger, pupils glistening with moisture, more alluring than usual. For the first time, he felt something inside him surge like it might overflow, soft but tinged with a subtle ache. That hidden emotion, long kept, rippled like tides in the dark night, slowly spreading, taking over all his thoughts.
Fang Jing Yao felt shy under his gaze, scratched his head, and turned away. Long Yu’s look, almost predatory, made him feel guilty. Soon, he noticed a stack of old desks and chairs in the corner. He walked a few steps and patted one of the desks: “Long Yu, look at this desk. I knew the old principal was stingy. He probably never threw it away. How many years has it been?”
Long Yu went over, touched the desk surface, and brushed off a layer of dust. He didn’t mind the mess and joined Fang Jing Yao in tracing old memories on the desks.
Fang Jing Yao bent over the bottom desk, wiped the dust, and found several hidden marks. His eyes lit up: “It’s this desk! Back then, when I lost at cards, I’d mark a line. This row here… this row should be where I lost to you. I’d never marked this many in one go before!”
Long Yu looked too. There were small one-centimeter marks, neat like a ruler, about a dozen lines in the lower right corner of the desk.
Fang Jing Yao continued grumbling: “Two yuan per hand, I lost fifty yuan to you that time.”
Long Yu smiled, wrapped his arms around Fang Jing Yao’s waist, holding him close, and rested his chin on his shoulder. “I’ll pay you back when we get home.”
Fang Jing Yao protested: “It’s not the same, back then prices were different…”
Long Yu kissed his earlobe: “Then I’ll make up for it now.”
Fang Jing Yao felt a spark of heat. He wanted to turn and look at Long Yu’s expression. But as he tried, Long Yu held him in place, and when he struggled, Long Yu pressed him backward with one hand, and he felt a firmness against his back, unlike usual.
Fang Jing Yao blinked. “Long Yu?” he whispered.
Long Yu held his arm and kissed his ear twice. “Good boy, don’t move,” he said hoarsely.
Fang Jing Yao tensed but didn’t move. He had never done such things outside before. Usually, he just joked verbally, but this was the first time facing an unexpected situation like this, especially with Long Yu. He couldn’t understand why Long Yu, usually calm at home, suddenly felt this passionate today.
Long Yu calmed himself behind him, then released Fang Jing Yao, only planting a kiss on his forehead, affectionate and doting, treating him like a treasure.
Fang Jing Yao held Long Yu’s hand, squeezing it twice. He was moved.
His lover was tall, handsome, rich, and above all, gentle. When someone like that gave their all to him, how could he not be touched? Fang Jing Yao wasn’t made of stone. He liked Long Yu, and he could feel that liking growing, to the point he was losing control.
Hand in hand, they returned home, more excited than ever. The apartment felt brighter and more spacious. Inside, everything seemed pleasing. They went to the kitchen to cook together. Rolling up his sleeves, Fang Jing Yao said: “I’ll help. What should I prepare?”
Long Yu smiled: “Just help me tie the apron.”
Fang Jing Yao immediately grabbed a gray checkered apron from the cabinet and tied it on Long Yu. As his hands wrapped around Long Yu’s waist, he felt the firm strength beneath the clothes. He couldn’t help touching it a couple more times, reluctantly letting go.
Long Yu glanced at him. Fang Jing Yao shamelessly said: “I’m just checking if it’s tied tightly enough.”
Long Yu smiled, didn’t reveal anything, and cut some fruit for him. “Take it to the living room. We’ll eat soon.”
Fang Jing Yao tried to show loyalty but was silenced each time by a kiss from Long Yu. He finally gave in, carrying the fruit to the living room like a happy couch potato.
He watched TV for a while, the sounds lively and noisy. In the kitchen, a tall figure was busy cooking. The aroma filled the room. Fang Jing Yao suddenly thought of his family. Since he could remember, his parents had lived ordinary yet happy days like this.
I’ve got a home now.
He wanted to laugh and roll on the wide sofa but restrained himself, grinning as he continued watching TV.
