Chapter 5
“You’ve taken the wrong stairs again; this stairway leads to Building B,” Lin Song’an whispered, nibbling on Tan Ning’s ear.
Knowing that Lin Song’an was deliberately teasing him, Tan Ning remained expressionless, allowing him to have his way.
At moments like this, Tan Ning was always compliant.
How long had it been since they last met?
A month? Perhaps not even that. They had seen each other once in between. After finishing a tutoring session and on his way back to school, Tan Ning had spotted Lin Song’an’s Land Rover parked along the narrow road just a block from campus. While debating whether to approach, Lin Song’an rolled down the window and handed him a bottle of soda, saying, “It’s getting hot; you’re wearing a bit too much.”
Taking the drink, Tan Ning glanced at Lin Song’an and then walked away.
It was peculiar; he and Lin Song’an were suited for direct physicality and roughness but not for normal conversation.
If Lin Song’an didn’t pull him into the car, Tan Ning wouldn’t bother to say another word. It seemed Lin Song’an understood this unspoken agreement; even as Tan Ning walked away, he didn’t try to stop him.
But now, in the pitch-black darkness and stifling heat, with the muffled chatter of classmates outside and the fading sound of footsteps, there was a thrilling sense of heart-pounding excitement.
It suited him and Lin Song’an perfectly.
So he parted his lips slightly, accepting Lin Song’an’s advance.
Early May hadn’t quite shed the last traces of spring as summer began to unfold. The rising temperature dulled Tan Ning’s sense of time. Initially, he could hear the ticking of the mechanical watch on Lin Song’an’s wrist. He tried to use that rapid sequence of sounds to replace his chaotic thoughts, but soon he heard nothing at all. His hoodie was lifted up, and time seemed to stop flowing.
In a daze, Tan Ning heard the chirp of a cicada from the bushes downstairs.
Was it midsummer already?
Summer seemed to have arrived early this year. He was used to being surrounded by cold, but now he felt only heat.
Lin Song’an squeezed his warm fingertips, sharing the same thought, and chuckled softly, “Finally, your hands aren’t freezing.”
Previously, Lin Song’an had felt the chill of Tan Ning’s icy fingers. Unable to enjoy himself, he had held Tan Ning’s wrists, saying, “Forget it.” At that time, Tan Ning had withdrawn his hands, looking innocent and bewildered. Helpless, Lin Song’an had warmed his hands in his own palms, rubbing them. He had planned to continue once they were warm, but as he rubbed, his gaze changed. Placing those now warm hands on his own waist, he pulled the somewhat uncooperative Tan Ning into his arms, abandoning the idea of letting Tan Ning attend to him.
Later, realizing that Tan Ning always had cold hands and feet—probably due to a weak constitution—he found an old Chinese medicine doctor to prescribe some herbal remedies. But Tan Ning refused to drink them, even when offered money; persuasion and force were ineffective, and he wouldn’t accept dietary supplements either.
He countered with a single sentence, “It’ll get better in summer.”
And indeed, it did.
Intertwining their fingers, Lin Song’an kissed him for a while and then suddenly asked, “Shall we try again?”
Startled for a moment, it took Tan Ning a few seconds to recall what those words meant, and then he obediently murmured, “Okay.”
The more compliant he was, the less pleased Lin Song’an became.
When Lin Song’an pressed him against the wall and bit the back of his neck, Tan Ning hadn’t even reacted before the tender, already scarred skin was caught between his teeth.
A sharp pain, indescribable.
It hurt, but not unbearably so—more of a bewilderment.
He didn’t understand why Lin Song’an kept doing this. Clearly, this action was meaningless for both of them. Lin Song’an could very well go and bite his childhood friend, that omega, who had glands emitting pheromones and a natural allure.
Though he harbored resentment, he still adhered to professional conduct, offering no resistance.
No matter how much it hurt, no matter what Lin Song’an did, he didn’t resist.
Lin Song’an’s irritable moods came inexplicably, beyond Tan Ning’s control. For instance, he felt he was cooperating enough, even resting his forehead against Lin Song’an’s shoulder, yet Lin Song’an suddenly got angry.
“Lin Song’an—”
Lin Song’an intensified his grip.
“Wait a moment.”
He ignored him.
“Lin Song’an, stop!” Finally, Tan Ning couldn’t help but lose his temper.
Frowning deeply, he saw Lin Song’an smile, who then embraced him and kissed him—a kiss more tender and lingering than any before.
Tan Ning truly couldn’t understand him. Perhaps no one could, and no one would believe that Lin Song’an acted like this in private.
By the time they were done, it was past ten o’clock.
Lying on something that might have been a desk or a cabinet, gasping for breath with Lin Song’an’s jacket beneath him, Tan Ning waited as Lin Song’an rummaged through his bag for wet wipes.
They hadn’t turned on the lights because Tan Ning said he wasn’t interested in knowing where they were.
While helping him clean up, Lin Song’an asked, “Afraid you’ll be distracted during future classes?”
Startled, Tan Ning asked, “Is this really a classroom?”
“No, it’s an infrequently used club office.”
He exhaled a barely audible sigh of relief.
Perhaps due to a security patrol, the motion-sensor light outside suddenly turned on, and a sliver of light seeped through the door crack. In that moment, Tan Ning could slightly see their current state.
He was sitting on a long table, his oversized hoodie askew, pants half-worn, one leg exposed.
As for his face and hair—he didn’t even want to think about it.
He must look utterly disheveled.
Meanwhile, Lin Song’an was already dressed neatly, appearing like a different person. In the blink of an eye, he had reverted to the young master whom even teachers treated with deference in the classroom, as if the earlier intimacy had involved only Tan Ning.
Quickly, Tan Ning put on his clothes.
Lin Song’an wanted to open the window, but Tan Ning said it wasn’t necessary.
Both fell into silence simultaneously. Tan Ning sensed that Lin Song’an wanted to say something several times but hesitated. In his ears, there was only the incessant chirping of cicadas.
Until a ringtone broke the quiet.
It was a call from Ye Ling on Lin Song’an’s phone. From the other end came a clear, slightly coquettish voice, “Brother Song’an, where are you? I thought you were chatting with Dean Yang. I’ve been waiting with Lei Xin in the parking lot for so long, and then I found out Dean Yang left a while ago. Where did you go?”
“Something came up. You guys go ahead; I’ll be there around eleven.”
“What is it? Do you still have work this late?”
The ends of Tan Ning’s hair were damp with sweat, sticking to the back of his neck. Using his free left hand, Lin Song’an helped tuck the hair behind his ear and then said, “Company matters.”
“Alright,” Ye Ling murmured, “You work so hard. We’ll wait for you at Nine Springs Palace. Lei Xin has already set up the party.”
In class, although others had mentioned this beautiful omega who was well-matched with Lin Song’an, Tan Ning hadn’t paid attention or cared about what Ye Ling looked like. But hearing his voice now, he could already imagine his appearance.
He added a tonal particle at the end of every sentence, but because his voice was naturally cute, it didn’t seem cloying. If Tan Ning weren’t currently sitting in a dim club office in the teaching building, having a clandestine meeting with Lin Song’an, he might have found such a sweet voice endearing. But now, he just felt hot.
This abandoned office was too stuffy, with only a small window that was tightly closed.
The motion-sensor light outside had turned off again.
Plunged back into darkness.
After hanging up, Lin Song’an helped him down from the table, shook out his own jacket, and said teasingly, “I thought you’d ask.”
“Ask what?” Tan Ning picked up his backpack from the floor.
After a moment of silence, Lin Song’an laughed, “Yes, ask what.”
He pinched the fabric of Tan Ning’s hoodie, reminding him once more, “The weather’s warming up; you’re wearing too much.”
“I’m not afraid of heat.” Tan Ning took a step back.
Before opening the door, Lin Song’an handed his phone to Tan Ning.
This time, Tan Ning didn’t take it immediately or swiftly transfer money to himself as usual. Instead, he hesitated for a few seconds, frowning slightly, before reaching out to accept it.
The lock screen password on Lin Song’an’s phone was [210315].
Once, Tan Ning had tried to guess the meaning of these numbers but couldn’t figure it out. It wasn’t the date they first met, or their first time together, or any other significant moment. They had first met on April 3rd, 2021, three days before Lin Song’an’s birthday.
Clearly, there was still a chill in the air in April. Not long ago, wearing an unlined hoodie still felt cold. How had it become summer so quickly?
His thoughts had drifted far, and by the glow of the phone screen, Lin Song’an quietly watched him.
After being thoroughly messed with, Tan Ning looked disheveled.
His hair was tousled, cheeks flushed, and lips slightly swollen. Lin Song’an loved seeing him marked by his own presence.
It was half a minute before Tan Ning snapped out of it. Unlocking the phone, he opened WeChat and entered 2,000 yuan on the transfer page.
The payment password was the same as the lock screen password. Regarding how freely Lin Song’an entrusted his passwords to a casual partner, Tan Ning didn’t understand. He had once asked, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll empty your account while you’re asleep?”
At the time, Lin Song’an had been brewing herbal medicine for him. Glancing up, he smiled and said, “You wouldn’t have to wait until I’m asleep.”
He hadn’t expected such a response.
Suppressing a smile, Tan Ning hadn’t pursued the topic further.
How strange—his thoughts drifted for a second time.
Forcing himself to focus, he entered the last digit of the password. The transfer was successful.
The transaction was complete.
After transferring the money, his scattered thoughts settled. Lin Song’an opened the door first, looked outside, and then turned back to say, “You go ahead.”
Without hesitation, Tan Ning slung his backpack over his shoulder and prepared to leave. But just as he stepped out, he was pulled back. Lin Song’an swiftly closed the door, pressed him against it, their foreheads touching, his breath filling Tan Ning’s ears.
He first nipped at the tip of Tan Ning’s nose.
Just as their lips were about to meet, he suddenly stopped, merely brushing lightly without truly kissing.
“Really not going to ask me anything?”
So he couldn’t hold back after all.
“If you ask, I’ll tell you.” His tone was almost coaxing.
Again, Tan Ning said, “Ask what?”
Time stood still for a few seconds.
Releasing him, Lin Song’an showed neither disappointment nor anger. His expression was as natural as when he’d earlier reminded him to wear lighter clothes. Reopening the door, he said, “You go ahead. The stairs are to your left, the one with the trash can. Don’t get it wrong.”
As Tan Ning walked out, he added worriedly, “Turn on your phone’s flashlight. Be careful going down the stairs.”
Frowning, Tan Ning thought: If you speak any louder, the students in the all-night study room will hear.
Sometimes, Lin Song’an was really annoying, even nagging.
Sometimes, he was utterly inexplicable.
Quickening his pace, he found his legs weak and sore, so he turned back to glare at him. “Shut up.”
Lin Song’an curved his lips into a smile, leaning against the doorframe, watching as Tan Ning slowly disappeared from his sight.
