“Even if he stays at one meter seventy for the rest of his life, it has nothing to do with you. Why are you so anxious and worked up?”
Yan Hui’s tone was calm, his smile elegant, yet his eyes concealed excitement and tension.
The hand he placed under the table tightly gripped the tablecloth, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on Yu Xiang, carefully observing every change in the other’s expression until he heard a single word:
“Sorry.”
His smile instantly stiffened, Yan Hui’s pupils constricted slightly, and his fingers dazedly loosened their grip on the tablecloth, leaving behind a small, crumpled crease.
Right at that moment, the waiter served the dessert. Yu Xiang looked at the ice cream in front of Yan Hui and twitched the corner of his lips.
“You are right. This is your personal business, and I should not have jumped to conclusions based on subjective speculation. When it comes to you, I feel like I have always been like this, even from the very first time we met.”
The very first time they met?
Yan Hui frowned, his gaze shifting back down to the ice cream.
“Determining that you were an annoying goody-goody, intentionally dirtying your clothes, and ruining your flawless piano performance. Ever since then, whenever the piano is mentioned…”
“Alright, stop talking!” Yan Hui crudely interrupted Yu Xiang, picking up a spoon and stabbing fiercely into the ice cream. “Why bring up something from so long ago?”
The spoon scraped against the porcelain plate, producing a teeth-setting sound, yet in Yu Xiang’s ears, it seemed as though the Prelude in C Major was playing.
He would always remember the feeling when he first met Yan Hui, when all was dead silent and only the sound of the piano remained.
Nor could he forget the pounding heartbeat when their eyes met after he knocked the other person down.
Years later, whenever the piano was brought up, someone would always bring up that farce from back then, a group of people laughing and bantering as if it were some earth-shattering event worth commemorating for a lifetime.
Facing the taunts of those fair-weather friends, Yan Hui did not get angry; he merely smiled indifferently and instead asked him:
“Why didn’t you run back then?”
At that time, either he would huff and casually spout some glib counter-arguments or join the others in brushing the question aside, and as time passed, Yan Hui stopped asking.
Now he wanted to speak, but Yan Hui no longer wanted to listen.
In the suffocating silence, Yan Hui finished the ice cream in a few bites, grabbed his down jacket, and stood up to take his leave.
“Thank you for today. Let me know before you leave, and I will go to the airport to see you off.”
With that, he strode away, leaving Yu Xiang sitting there alone, staring at the remaining traces on the dessert plate, before finally letting out a bitter smile.
Yan Hui walked out of the restaurant nursing a belly full of fire, only to find that it had started drizzling outside.
Clearly, the past couple of days had been bright and sunny with temperatures climbing to thirteen or fourteen degrees, but the moment this rain fell, temperatures instantly plummeted to rock bottom. The cold wind mixed with moisture drilled through his collar, relentlessly draining away his body heat.
Winter weather in Jindu had always been like this, with temperatures fluctuating more than ten degrees depending on the sun. Mornings with sunshine and afternoons with rain were commonplace.
Yan Hui had lived in Jindu for ten years and theoretically should have been used to this climate, but right now he was unbearably irritated, unsure whether he was annoyed by the wet ground or filled with grief and anger at himself for still harboring fantasies.
Yet who could blame him when Yu Xiang was his first love?
Sitting in the taxi, Yan Hui watched the hurried pedestrians through the curtain of rain, his gaze gradually growing hazy.
Back then, Yu Xiang was sharp-tongued, rebellious, and untamed. Even though the two of them had been schoolmates from kindergarten all the way through high school, they remained strangers because they hung out in different social circles.
Yu Xiang belonged to the circle of unruly scions, while he belonged to the circle of elite heirs.
That was until they entered high school.
Yan Hui never felt that the taunts from Yu Xiang and his friends were a bother, nor did he like himself before the age of sixteen, so he never got angry.
He merely harbored a fantasy, believing that Yu Xiang, the first person from childhood to the present who had truly cared about him, treated him differently.
Facts proved, however, that Yu Xiang was nothing special toward him, because stripping away the exterior, Yu Xiang was inherently a prickly, kind-hearted, and sincere person who now held an extra measure of guilt toward him due to all their past history.
From start to finish, it was entirely his own wishful thinking.
Arriving home, Yan Hui brewed a cup of apple tea for himself, draped a blanket over his shoulders, and sat by the desk. Abandoning the new book outline he had been grinding away at for a month, he directly opened a document and typed out a single sentence:
Feng Hui first felt his heart stir for Yu Ming during the summer of his freshman year in high school.
The crisp sound of keystrokes echoed in the air, and distant memories transformed into text, continuously unfolding before Yan Hui’s eyes.
By then, he had been living alone for over a year, staying by himself in a high-end apartment near the school. He had a housekeeper to clean up, an unlimited black card, and had made a few new friends.
His new friends were not his classmates; they were more interesting and knew how to have a better time. Following them, Yan Hui learned how to smoke, drink, club, and dance. Bleaching his hair and getting a tattoo had not yet been put into practice, but they were already on the schedule.
So when they invited him to go mountain racing, he agreed without a second thought.
Only upon reaching the agreed-upon location did Yan Hui realize what mountain racing actually entailed, while simultaneously spotting a group of familiar faces, none other than Yu Xiang and his childhood buddies.
On a midsummer midnight with a bright moon and sparse stars, several motorcycles were parked in the open space at the peak of the mountain. The half-grown boys leaned against their vehicles, smoking and drinking, their entire bodies exuding an indulgent vibe that chased after thrills.
Yu Xiang was the most eye-catching among them.
He wore a black tank top and jeans, leaning against a BMW R 1200 GS. His long legs were crossed, and his well-defined face appeared even more three-dimensional in the flickering, dim light of the cigarette butt.
Seeing Yan Hui and his group arrive on bikes, he lazily lifted his eyelids, only to tightly knit his brows the next second and spit out his cigarette with a harsh curse.
“What the hell, Chen Datou! Why did you bring an outsider along?”
Yan Hui paused in his tracks and raised his gaze, but Yu Xiang was not looking at him, glaring viciously instead at Chen Wenzhe who had brought him up the mountain.
Chen Wenzhe chuckled, throwing an arm around Yan Hui’s shoulder. “Second Young Master Yu, I brought my friend along to have some fun and experience something new. You would not mind, would you?”
“Friend?” Yu Xiang let out an ambiguous, cold laugh. “I do not care what kind of friend you are, bringing outsiders is simply not happening. Today’s wager is canceled.”
With that, he turned and mounted his bike, picking up his helmet as if to leave.
Chen Wenzhe did not stop him, merely saying sarcastically, “Fine, but let’s get one thing straight: you are the one backing out because you are chicken, which means according to the stakes, this mountain belongs to us. From now on, you guys are not allowed to race here anymore!”
Yu Xiang paused his movements. “Me, chicken? With your lousy skills, it is a blessing from your ancestors you have not killed yourself yet, and you dare race me? But bringing this kid along to race is an absolute no-go.”
Hearing this, Yan Hui could not help himself and challenged, “Why can’t I?”
“Because you are the young master of the Yan family, the class one study commissioner!” Yu Xiang glanced sideways at Yan Hui, then glared at Chen Wenzhe. “The moment he opens his mouth outside, all of us are finished!”
Yan Hui frowned and stepped forward. “Since I came, I am not stupid enough to snitch.”
Yu Xiang turned his head away and scoffed, “Who knows if you will let it slip? Mountain racing is exciting enough for a bookworm like you to show off about for the rest of your life.”
“Exactly. Chen Datou, it is fine if your Kawasaki is gone, but if the brothers’ GSs and big donkeys get impounded by our families, can you afford to pay for them?”
“Chu Ge, you are wrong there. You are underestimating Chen Datou, aren’t you? We have only been racing for two months, right? The guy bought a bike and tagged right along, execution is top-notch!”
“Then why bring a street bike to mountain racing? Didn’t buy an ADV because you didn’t want to?”
“Afraid, probably? What is the displacement on a street bike anyway?”
Yu Xiang’s cronies chattered back and forth, making Chen Wenzhe lose face completely with an expression that was terrifyingly ugly.
Unable to watch any longer, Yan Hui snapped, “Yapping all this nonsense, are we racing or not? If you are chicken, admit it. What is with all the excuses!”
“You!” Yu Xiang finally gave Yan Hui a direct look, though his complexion was livid. “Fine. The wager can go on, but the stakes go up.”
Chen Wenzhe sauntered over to Yan Hui’s side and lifted his chin. “Name it. I will play to the end.”
Yu Xiang’s gaze grew dark as he stared fixedly at Chen Wenzhe. “One: the loser can never race here again, nowhere at all.”
“Xiang Ge!”
Ignoring his cronies’ gasps, Yu Xiang pointed at Yan Hui. “Two: he rides on my bike.”
As these words fell, absolute silence descended.
Yu Xiang’s cronies wore expressions as if struck by lightning, while Yan Hui and Chen Wenzhe’s group looked thoroughly confused.
Chen Wenzhe glanced at Yan Hui and asked, “Why?”
“Hostage.” Spitting out the single, concise word, Yu Xiang turned to his own people. “Who has a spare helmet?”
“I do not.”
“Zhou Xiaoliu, give your girlfriend’s helmet to Xiang Ge.”
“Then what about my girlfriend?”
“Are you an idiot? Just call her a cab!”
“Xiang Ge’s backseat has never had anyone on it. How come this time?”
“Didn’t you hear Xiang Ge say he’s a hostage? If anything goes down, Chen Datou can’t run away either!”
“Badass, as expected of Xiang Ge!”
Seeing that Yu Xiang was acting as though this matter was non-negotiable, Chen Wenzhe rolled his eyes, pulled Yan Hui aside, and whispered, “Later on, look for the right moment.”
Seeing Chen Wenzhe make a pinching gesture, Yan Hui felt a bad instinct bubbling up, though he did not say much else and simply grunted in agreement.
Chen Wenzhe smiled contentedly, patted Yan Hui’s shoulder, and deliberately spoke up loudly, “Don’t worry, Second Young Master Yu has great skills, he definitely won’t let you crash.”
Ignoring him, Yu Xiang shoved the helmet right in front of Yan Hui with a terribly dark expression. “Dare or not? If you don’t dare, it is still not too late to go back now.”
Yan Hui glared at him, snatched the helmet, swung a long leg over, and hopped onto the passenger seat.
Once he put on his helmet and settled in, Yu Xiang picked up his own, and the rest of the group quickly followed suit to prep their bikes.
When everyone was ready, Zhou Xiaoliu’s girlfriend walked up to the front of the bike, smilingly raising three fingers.
“Three, two, one!”
Her pink fist shot high into the air, and simultaneously, over a dozen motorcycles emitted a heaven-shaking roar, completely shattering the silence of the moonlit night. Several ADVs shot out first, followed by street bikes; only Yu Xiang’s GS remained parked in place, unmoving.
Yan Hui leaned out with a puzzled look, just about to open his mouth when he heard Yu Xiang say, “Hold on tight, don’t move around.”
Before Yan Hui could react, the GS emitted a roar completely unbefitting its name, and a massive force followed, gripping Yan Hui’s body and yanking him fiercely backward!
“Ah!” Yan Hui shrieked, almost instinctively lunging forward to embrace Yu Xiang around the waist.
The next second, the GS whipped into a serpentine curve, scaring him so badly that he plastered himself against Yu Xiang’s back and cursed wildly, his voice cracking entirely.
“Yu Xiang, can you actually drive or not?!”
“Shut up! Don’t move!” Squeezing the words through his teeth, Yu Xiang twisted his wrist, and the GS shot forward like an arrow, catching up to and overtaking the trailing street bike in mere seconds.
Watching the street bike recede and vanish from sight in the blink of an eye, Yan Hui felt zero thrill, turning pale with terror instead.
This was a mountain pass road! Full of twists and turns, coupled with the slope, a single slip-up meant certain death!
The danger level of going down the mountain was on an entirely different magnitude compared to going up!
So this was what they called mountain racing!
The wind howled by his ears, the surrounding scenery melting into pure color bands. The sense of impending danger brought by high-speed downhill driving made Yan Hui’s heart pound faster and faster, his body trembling involuntarily.
Just as his limbs grew weak and powerless, and even the hands locked around Yu Xiang’s waist began to slip, the speed suddenly slowed down.
The roaring beast gradually quieted, and Yu Xiang extended a long leg to steady the bike, turning his head to glance at Yan Hui.
“Now that you know.”
Before he could finish, Yan Hui pulled off his helmet, leapt off the bike, and stumbled toward the roadside guardrail, leaning over to retch dryly.
Fortunately, he had not eaten dinner, so nothing came up aside from squeezing out a few physiological tears.
After a moment, the physical reaction brought on by fear gradually subsided. Just as Yan Hui straightened his back, he heard a chuckle.
“The moment the speed went up you reacted this badly, and you still want to race? Go back and be your model student!”
“You!”
“You what you, hand over the helmet, or do you want to continue?” Yu Xiang’s voice was slightly muffled by his helmet, sounding all the more merciless. “I will ugly-warn you upfront, I won’t be stopping this time.”
Yan Hui bit his lip, shuffled step by step to the motorcycle, hoisted the helmet while glaring at the backseat, neither getting on nor showing any intention of handing the helmet over.
Yu Xiang clicked his tongue, snatched the helmet back, and started the engine. “You should thank your lucky stars you rode with my bike. Don’t go messing around with Chen Datou anymore.”
“None of your freaking business.” Before he could finish, Yu Xiang’s figure had already vanished at the end of the road, leaving Yan Hui so furious he flipped a middle finger at the motorcycle exhaust.
Until the surroundings returned to total silence did he calm down, pull out his phone to call a premium ride, and begin walking down the mountain along the winding road.
In the moonlit, watery depths of midnight, undertaking a solitary journey in an environment so suited for contemplation, Yan Hui found himself instinctively reviewing the entire sequence of events from start to finish.
Gradually, his pace slowed down until he finally came to a complete halt.
“With your lousy skills.”
“The guy bought a bike and tagged right along.”
“He has to ride on my bike.”
“Look for the right moment.”
“It is still not too late to go back now.”
“You should thank your lucky stars you rode with my bike. Don’t go messing around with Chen Datou anymore.”
Was Yu Xiang worried about him?
Yan Hui stared at the moonlight-drenched cliffs and trees, his silhouette gradually freezing into a statue.
That was the first time Yan Hui truly experienced what it felt like to be looked after.
Though he learned shortly after that the motivation behind Yu Xiang’s actions was not out of genuine care for him, that moment’s feeling had already planted a seed called infatuation deep in his heart.
Today, that seed had long since grown into a towering tree, its massive root system gripping his heart, intertwined and impossible to separate.