Chapter 25
The next day, Chu Mo was discharged. During his hospitalization, various acquaintances and business partners had come to visit. Whether they truly counted as “friends” or not, there were plenty of people eager to flatter him. Now that he had recovered smoothly, everyone was delighted, and they decided to throw a party to celebrate. Qu Tongqiu was invited as well, so he prepared a gift and went.
To be honest, he and Chu Mo had never really been close. Their ways of dealing with the world were too different. They would probably never truly like each other, and even that bit of old classmate connection was far from a pleasant memory.
But after such an accident, many feelings had changed. In the face of death, those grudges that once seemed so big suddenly became very, very small.
In the future, he and Chu Mo would most likely still just nod at each other in passing, but his worry for Chu Mo and his happiness at Chu Mo’s recovery were genuine.
The bar rented out for the party was lively. Zhuang Wei and Ren Ningyuan were there as close friends, managing the overall scene. Qu Tongqiu was just a guest, and in a place like this, he couldn’t quite keep up with the pace. He didn’t know most of the people. Watching everyone drink heavily, joke around, and push the limits of rowdiness, he didn’t really know what he was supposed to do.
When Zhuang Wei came over and saw him sitting there in a daze, he reached out and stroked the back of his neck like petting a cat. “If you’re tired, you can head back first later. No need to force yourself. You’ve had the hardest time these past few days.”
Qu Tongqiu was gradually growing fond of this kind of touch. “It’s not that bad…”
“Oh right, Chu Mo’s about to cut the cake. Come get a piece.”
Qu Tongqiu was led over to the star of the night. Chu Mo’s attitude toward him was indeed much better than before, and he even smiled at him, showing a row of white teeth.
“Hey, don’t cut it so ugly. The best piece is for Qu Tongqiu,” Zhuang Wei said, almost in a commanding tone.
Surprisingly, Chu Mo didn’t get angry. “I’m the one who got hit by a car, you know.”
“He’s the one who put in the most effort taking care of you. Hurry up.”
Chu Mo sensibly cut out a very neat, beautiful triangular slice and handed it to Qu Tongqiu. “Thanks for your hard work.”
“Can’t you say ‘thank you’ properly?”
“If you’re a man, don’t nitpick so much.”
The two of them could still barely get through a couple of sentences without bickering. Zhuang Wei still didn’t give Chu Mo a good look, just like always.
The cake couldn’t be eaten right away, so it was packed up for Qu Tongqiu to take home. Zhuang Wei thought Chu Mo’s packing was too sloppy, told him to get lost, and then repacked it himself so it would be easier to carry.
“When you get back, go straight to sleep. We have to stay until the end and won’t be home until later. You don’t need to wait for me.”
“Mm.”
Zhuang Wei rubbed his hair again and brushed his cheek. “Go on.”
Qu Tongqiu hesitated for a moment, then carried the cake and left. He vaguely felt that something was a bit different, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
To reach the exit, he had to go down a long, dark staircase. This deep, hidden design completely shut out the noise behind him. Qu Tongqiu carefully went down the steps when someone called his name from behind.
“Qu Tongqiu.”
He paused, sensing the person approaching, and suddenly didn’t dare to turn around.
“It’s raining outside, and it’s hard to get a cab. I’ll walk you part of the way.”
“…No need…”
Ren Ningyuan didn’t say anything else and suddenly reached out. Caught off guard, Qu Tongqiu felt the warm fingers grab his arm. At the instant their skin touched, his whole body jolted as if burned by a branding iron. He jumped violently, and the cake bag flew out of his hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
Neither of them had expected such a reaction. They both froze, facing each other in the darkness. Ren Ningyuan was the first to speak. “Sorry.”
Qu Tongqiu awkwardly nodded at him and tried to step down a few more stairs to pick up the now-ruined cake.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“……”
“I was trying to help you.”
Qu Tongqiu paused. His throat moved up and down as he held himself back, as if he desperately wanted to say something, but too many things were jammed in his chest and stuck in his throat. After a long, suffocating silence, he finally said, “No need.”
Maybe that was ungrateful, but in this lifetime, he would never dare accept this man’s “help” again.
Ren Ningyuan looked at him for a moment in the dim light and said softly, “You don’t need to be nervous. I just want to tell you something.”
Qu Tongqiu swallowed and waited for him to continue.
“This time, don’t go to the US.”
Qu Tongqiu looked up at him uncertainly. Ren Ningyuan also looked back at those gentle-shaped eyes with slightly drooping corners.
“You should understand the reason.”
“……”
“Zhuang Wei and Chu Mo—they’re the ones who should really be together. Chu Mo has chased after him for more than ten years and hasn’t given up even now, and he won’t in the future either. You’re not suitable, and you shouldn’t compete with Chu Mo.”
Qu Tongqiu was stunned for a moment. In that faint pity in Ren Ningyuan’s eyes, he suddenly realized something.
“What do you want me to… do?”
Ren Ningyuan lowered his head and looked at him. “Let go.”
Qu Tongqiu stood there blankly.
“Zhuang Wei isn’t suitable for you. Even if you really go to the US with him, life won’t necessarily turn out the way you imagine. You’ll understand in the future. I know it’s not easy for you to leave him right now, but everything Zhuang Wei promised you—I’ll make it up to you on their behalf.”
Qu Tongqiu began to tremble. The few things he had were always taken away, and then something was given back as “compensation.” Even though he was used to being weak, this time he felt he couldn’t give in.
“No.”
Ren Ningyuan seemed to pause, then said, “Even if you like Zhuang Wei, it’s useless.”
“……”
“You can’t beat Chu Mo. Sooner or later, he’ll be able to bring Zhuang Wei back to his side. You shouldn’t insert yourself between them.”
Qu Tongqiu didn’t answer. Feeling his way, he turned to continue down the stairs.
Ren Ningyuan grabbed his arm again and shoved him against the stair railing. “Qu Tongqiu, listen to me.” As he increased the pressure, he could feel the tense trembling of the man beneath him. “I’m doing this for your own good.”
Qu Tongqiu didn’t speak. He struggled a couple of times but was still pinned down. Violent emotions began surging through that silent body, so intense they were almost visible even in the darkness, as if they were about to burst through his thin, fragile frame. Finally, he moved—throwing a punch with all his strength straight at Ren Ningyuan’s face.
Ren Ningyuan turned his head to avoid it and caught his arm, reacting far faster than the attack itself. Using the momentum, he restrained him even tighter and leaned down toward him. Driven nearly mad by this powerless despair, Qu Tongqiu fought desperately, flailing without any order. At last, he broke free—but stumbled backward and fell.
Ren Ningyuan failed to catch him, watching helplessly as he tumbled down several steps and finally hit the ground headfirst in an awkward position.
The man lay on his back, legs still propped on the stairs, like a beetle knocked unconscious. He hadn’t yet recovered from the clumsy, self-inflicted fall. For a few seconds, it seemed to Ren Ningyuan that he was staring blankly up at the pitch-black ceiling, exhausted, as if he no longer wanted to move at all.
Before Ren Ningyuan could chase downstairs, he had already struggled back to his feet. He swayed for a moment, then limped away.
Qu Tongqiu returned to the apartment alone. He stared into space for a while, then began packing some things he would take with him to America. He didn’t have much luggage, but his body ached from the fall, so he rested for a bit, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for Zhuang Wei to come back.
But before sleep overtook him in his drowsiness, Zhuang Wei still hadn’t returned.
Near dawn, half-asleep, Qu Tongqiu finally heard the faint sound of the door opening, followed by running water in the bathroom. Zhuang Wei only came to bed after showering; when he lifted the blanket, a trace of cold air slipped in.
Feeling the chill, Qu Tongqiu shrank back slightly. Zhuang Wei wrapped an arm around him and kissed his forehead. Still hazy, Qu Tongqiu buried his face in the hollow of Zhuang Wei’s neck, where the warmth from the hot shower lingered, along with a clean, faint scent.
“Qu Tongqiu.”
“Mm,” he answered.
But Zhuang Wei didn’t say anything more. He just kissed him again and held him the way one would hold a small animal. Qu Tongqiu opened his eyes, stared blankly for a moment, then closed them again.
In the morning, Qu Tongqiu woke earlier. He let the other man keep sleeping and went to make an extra portion of breakfast, afraid Zhuang Wei might wake up hungry.
Zhuang Wei slept on deeply. Qu Tongqiu went back to the bedside again and again, carefully checking on him, planning to reheat breakfast as soon as he showed signs of waking, so he could eat it hot after brushing his teeth. In winter, food cooled too quickly.
By noon, the man in bed still hadn’t woken. Qu Tongqiu had kept watch all morning and couldn’t bear to disturb him, so he quietly got up to cook lunch. Afraid of making noise, he closed the kitchen door while stir-frying. The chili peppers were a bit choking, and he opened the window to air out the smoke for a long while.
When everything was ready, he carried the rice out—only to see that Zhuang Wei had already gotten up at some point. He was dressed neatly, looking composed and proper.
“Oh,” Qu Tongqiu said, seeing him holding a phone in one hand while picking shoes from the cabinet. “Are you going out?”
“Mm, going to see a friend.” Zhuang Wei glanced at him. “You already cooked?”
“I made spicy shrimp, salt-and-pepper chicken cartilage, and winter melon conch soup…”
Zhuang Wei touched his cheek. “All my favorites, huh?”
The man looked a little awkward. He still wasn’t good at expressing himself, but anyone with eyes and a heart could see that bit of expectation in him. Zhuang Wei looked at him, slipped the phone back into his pocket, and ruffled his hair.
“Actually, I don’t really have anything urgent. If you want me to stay with you, then I won’t go.”
They sat together and ate. By the standards of home cooking, Qu Tongqiu’s skills were very good—after all, he’d been cooking for more than ten years. This was one of the few things time had left him: a rare strength.
There was nothing about him that outshone others. He couldn’t compare to Chu Mo. All he could do was what he was able to do, doing his best to treat Zhuang Wei well.
He hoped Zhuang Wei could feel it.
After eating and cleaning up, they sat facing each other on the sofa, and for a moment it felt oddly dull. In the past, Zhuang Wei liked to ambush him—pinning him down when he wasn’t paying attention. They didn’t always do anything, just roughhousing and clinging to each other. Time would pass easily in the mess and noise.
Now, with each of them sitting properly in their own spot, the room suddenly felt larger, emptier, quieter. Qu Tongqiu felt a little at a loss in the awkward silence. Zhuang Wei wasn’t comfortable either. When their eyes met, both of them smiled at once.
“Watch a movie?”
“Sure. What do you want to watch?”
Zhuang Wei’s unusual gentleness and politeness made Qu Tongqiu uneasy. He hurriedly grabbed a disc at random. “This one…”
The player started up. On the screen was a long, obscure art film—monotonous background, strange cuts, disjointed plot, characters far from pleasing, speaking an incomprehensible language and laughing in shrill voices. The two of them watched quietly, forcing themselves to focus on the screen, pretending to be absorbed.
The phone rang again. Zhuang Wei took a look and muted it. After a while, when it rang again, he answered. Saying a few “mm” and “ah,” he stood up, opened the door, and went to the balcony to talk.
Qu Tongqiu sat there, a little tense, no longer knowing what the movie was about. When Zhuang Wei came back in and put the phone away, he looked down at him.
“Sorry, I have to go out for a bit.”
“Mm.”
“You don’t need to make dinner for me.”
Qu Tongqiu answered again and walked him to the door, watching him put on his shoes and open it. He couldn’t ask where he was going. All he could ask from behind was, “Tonight… when will you be back?”
Zhuang Wei looked at him. “Not too late. But don’t wait for me. Go to sleep first.”
“Mm…”
Before leaving, Zhuang Wei kissed his forehead. Qu Tongqiu felt that, at least, it was still gentle.
But that night, Zhuang Wei didn’t come back, even very late. Qu Tongqiu couldn’t hold on and went to bed. When he woke in the early morning, the sky was faintly light, tinged with blue. Zhuang Wei still hadn’t returned.
Qu Tongqiu suddenly sensed something. But it was only a feeling, not yet a fact.
So he still carefully made enough food for two, not daring to be careless with the dishes. He cleaned the apartment thoroughly—everything that should be wiped was wiped, everything that should be washed was washed. He did everything he could, as if waiting for inspection.
As the sky gradually darkened, he just waited there, waiting until he felt dazed.
When he heard the faint sound of a key turning in the lock, it was as if he had been jolted awake from frozen stupor. He sprang to his feet, his eyes coming alive at once.
The door opened, and it was Zhuang Wei, just as proud, handsome, and aloof as ever. Only his hair was slightly messier than usual, along with his expression.
“You’re back.”
“Mm,” Zhuang Wei replied, but he didn’t look at him. “Qu Tongqiu.”
Qu Tongqiu looked at him and waited.
“You haven’t fallen in love with me yet, have you?”
Qu Tongqiu let out a soft “huh,” sensing the strangeness in his tone. It wasn’t really a question—or rather, it wasn’t a tone that wanted a confirmed answer.
Zhuang Wei asked again urgently, “You haven’t seriously fallen in love with me yet, right?”
All of a sudden, Qu Tongqiu understood. He said “ah,” unable to speak for a moment. Zhuang Wei quickly followed up, “Good. As long as you haven’t.”
The conversation was cut off abruptly.
Qu Tongqiu’s words were stuck in his throat. He stood there dumbfounded, staring at Zhuang Wei. After a long while, he finally understood that no one actually wanted to hear him speak. He said “ah” again.
After that sound, he made no more noise. He only looked at his hands, then lowered his head to stare at the floor.
“Qu Tongqiu.”
He didn’t respond.
Zhuang Wei squatted down in front of him and looked up at the face hidden in shadow.
Qu Tongqiu shifted his gaze away, not wanting to look at him, but he noticed the dark scorch mark at the collar of Zhuang Wei’s shirt.
It was from lying down and smoking all night, burned by falling ash. Qu Tongqiu slightly lifted his eyelids and looked at the man squatting before him with reddened eyes. Zhuang Wei looked back at him.
“Qu Tongqiu.”
“…”
“I’ll still take you to America. I’ll take care of you.”
The man lowered his head. “…No need.”
“This is what I promised you.”
“…It’s fine.”
Neither of them spoke again. Suddenly, Zhuang Wei reached out. The man with bloodshot eyes struggled to resist, but in the end, he was still pulled into an embrace.
Zhuang Wei held him tightly, almost roughly, squeezing until he couldn’t move no matter how hard he tried, until Zhuang Wei’s own chest hurt from the bony body pressed against it. Then he said softly, “Qu Tongqiu.”
“…”
“Qu Tongqiu, back then… I wasn’t lying to you.”
Crushed against his chest, barely able to breathe, the man took a long time before he could murmur a shaky “mm.”
“Come with me to America. Just as friends is fine too. Chu Mo won’t mind. I have many rooms—you can live with us. Anyway, you don’t like sleeping with me. If it’s just living together…”
Zhuang Wei spoke impatiently, then gradually fell silent.
He understood it clearly himself.
This man was, at the very least, a person—not a dog. You couldn’t just keep him at home because you had some fondness and couldn’t bear to throw him away. You couldn’t take possession of his entire life just by giving him food and a place to sleep.
He was a small, insignificant person, but he still had one thing equal to theirs: the dignity of being human.
Only when he was close to suffocating was he released. Qu Tongqiu gasped for air with difficulty, then watched as Zhuang Wei suddenly stood up, took out a checkbook, found a pen, and quickly wrote a number.
Both of them stood there, lost in thought.
After a while, Zhuang Wei forcefully signed his name and tore off the check. “Take this.”
Qu Tongqiu recoiled as if burned, immediately pulling his hands back, refusing to take it.
Zhuang Wei’s hand remained extended in front of him. “Take it.”
“…No.”
Zhuang Wei hugged him, forcibly pulled out his thin, flat wallet, opened it, and put the check inside, then tried to stuff it back into his pocket.
“You’ll need it.”
Qu Tongqiu desperately dodged the wallet with the check inside, whispering, “No need…”
Zhuang Wei stubbornly held onto him. “You’ll need it. Make a small investment, or just spend it—you’ll live a bit better. If you run short on money, contact me. This is what I should do.”
“No need…”
In the end, the wallet was still shoved into his pocket. The man stopped speaking, as if resigned, his eyes slowly filling with tears.
“I’ve paid next month’s rent for this apartment. You can stay until then, slowly look for another place, or move to another city… You could even go to the countryside. With that money, you could buy a big house, and then…”
Zhuang Wei stopped, as if he couldn’t go on. In the strained silence, his voice grew hoarse.
“You’ll live well, won’t you, Qu Tongqiu?”
“…”
“Do you hate me, Qu Tongqiu?”
Qu Tongqiu, eyes red at the corners, looked at the man whose eyes were also filled with bloodshot veins, and finally shook his head without a sound.
He had nothing left, but at least this was a clean and open ending. There had been no deception, and what he was owed had been repaid.
Zhuang Wei treated him better than anyone else ever had. He was the kindest person Qu Tongqiu had met in his entire life.
That night, Zhuang Wei held him while they slept. This time there was no sex—just holding him, as if afraid he might get cold, tightly gripping his hand. Qu Tongqiu fell asleep in that final bit of warmth, and even dreamed.
When he woke hazily, the room was dim with low light. Zhuang Wei was already dressed, sitting by the bed, softly calling his name.
“Qu Tongqiu, Qu Tongqiu.”
“Mm…”
“I’m going to work.”
“Oh…” Qu Tongqiu woke up a little more and tried to get up with him. “…What time is it?”
Zhuang Wei pressed lightly on his shoulder. “There’s not much to do today. Rest. Sleep a bit longer.”
Under that gaze—so gentle it had never existed before—Qu Tongqiu slowly lay back down. Zhuang Wei tucked the blanket more snugly around him and sat there watching him, his hand holding Qu Tongqiu’s beneath the covers. That kind of tenderness felt unreal, like a dream.
“There’s food in the fridge. If you don’t feel like cooking, order delivery. The phone numbers are stuck on the fridge—you know that.”
“Mm.”
“It’s going to get colder today. Don’t be stingy with the heating.”
“Mm…”
“Remember to eat.”
“Mm…”
Zhuang Wei looked at him for a while longer, bent down, and kissed his forehead.
That warmth almost made him grow hopeful.
But Zhuang Wei finally let go of his hand, stood up, and said softly, “I’m leaving.”
Qu Tongqiu gave one last “mm,” watching his back as he walked to the door. When it opened, a bit of clear, cold air drifted in.
