When the bell for the last period rang, the playground became even emptier. On the last day before the exams, most students were either proactively racing to patch up their knowledge gaps or being passively confined to classrooms by teachers for a final review. The playground, which used to be the liveliest place every afternoon, now had almost no one left.
On the basketball court on the east side of the playground, there were only Zhou Ai and Chen Xunfeng.
Zhou Ai sat on the bleachers beside the court with his head slightly bowed. His backpack was on the seat next to him, and an open book rested on his knees. The wind passed by his side, making him appear even more still and composed.
Chen Xunfeng was on the court, throwing the ball in single-person shooting practice. The sound of the basketball hitting the rubberized floor with a thump-thump sounded abrupt in the quiet, until he slowly stopped his actions, picked up the ball, and turned to look at Zhou Ai on the sidelines while standing in the center of the court.
The rays of the setting sun shone directly over, spilling onto Zhou Ai’s clean school uniform and tinting his bangs with a soft, pale gold. Zhou Ai held a black gel pen in his hand, his writing movements intermittent.
This wasn’t an environment or location suitable for studying there were cafes outside the school, and libraries or quiet empty classrooms inside; anywhere would have been more suitable than here. But after the two had circled the playground twice, Zhou Ai had chosen to stay by the court.
It was actually quite quiet here, making the intermittent thump-thump of the basketball more noticeable. Yet, even though Chen Xunfeng had stopped moving for such a long time, Zhou Ai still hadn’t noticed, remaining immersed in the book page in his hand.
Chen Xunfeng sat down completely. He sat in the middle of the court, directly facing Zhou Ai, propping his chin in his hand as he watched the boy who sat at a distance that was neither too near nor too far.
The Zhou Ai of his childhood had been a sensitive little boy. Even though he was surrounded by children of his own age, he was always tense. He could easily perceive the whispering, the pointing, the discussion, and even the gazes of the people around him.
Because children were not all pure and harmless; they always used ignorance as an excuse to inflict violence wantonly.
Kindergarten had scheduled nap times. But during the time Chen Xunfeng first met Zhou Ai, Zhou Ai never napped. Every day at noon, after the duty teacher left, Zhou Ai would open his eyes and stare at the ceiling above. Childhood is usually a time for everyone to be active and positive in their exploration of the world, but since no one communicated with Zhou Ai, he learned to stare blankly in silence far too early. He could spend a long time just staring into the void.
Later, Chen Xunfeng learned that Zhou Ai would rather spend the two long hours of noon with his eyes open than close them to rest. That was because, in previous naps, he had almost always been jolted awake from his dreams. The restless boys beside him wouldn’t sleep, and they would start messing with him the moment they saw Zhou Ai doze off. So, every time Zhou Ai woke up, he was faced with various “surprise” projects his classmates had prepared for him.
After Chen Xunfeng began to get to know Zhou Ai, every time the duty teacher left, Chen Xunfeng would slide off his own cot. He would stand guard beside Zhou Ai, holding his hand. He even mimicked the adults’ actions, patting Zhou Ai’s shoulder to coax him to sleep, though he himself wouldn’t sleep at all. He would stand beside Zhou Ai, enduring the hours with the students in the large bedroom who were “faking sleep.” He would outlast them, and then he would pay back everything they had done to Zhou Ai in full.
The most severe incident was when every single person’s quilt and clothing in the entire large bedroom, except for Zhou Ai’s bedding, was soaked through with cold water. It was winter, and the majority of the students in the class ended up falling ill and being hospitalized because of what Chen Xunfeng had done.
Perhaps it was precisely because of his environment that Zhou Ai, at his youngest age, grew up to be the most vigilant and sensitive person.
But now, the Zhou Ai before Chen Xunfeng, who was about to turn 17, was vastly different from the past. For as vigilant and sensitive as Zhou Ai had been in those years, the Zhou Ai of today was just as detached, or even indifferent. Now, almost nothing could affect him anymore.
To a certain extent, this was a good thing. Zhou Ai’s psychological state was now extremely robust; no person or thing could easily influence him, and he wouldn’t give those rotten people any extra attention.
However, Chen Xunfeng felt a hollow emptiness in his heart. The six years he had been absent he didn’t know how Zhou Ai had spent them, nor did he know how the sensitive little boy had grown into the person he was now.
Chen Xunfeng’s habitual way of thinking had never been to deceive himself by looking at the bright side. He wouldn’t whitewash the truth and lie to himself, believing Zhou Ai had lived well during those years. With parents like that, with classmates and teachers like that, Zhou Ai’s life could not have been good.
Regret was useless; Chen Xunfeng only felt pity. Pity that he had also been young during those years, so he hadn’t even been able to control where he wanted to go or where he wanted to stay.
Chen Xunfeng sat in the center of the playground, propping his chin in his hand, staring steadily at the boy before him. What he wanted to know most now was what kind of life Zhou Ai had led during those elementary and middle school years. He wanted to know the trajectory of Zhou Ai’s growth, wanted to know how he had grown up alone, wanted to know if anyone had hurt him, and if so, how they had hurt him.
The bell for the end of the period in the teaching building in the distance rang. Chen Xunfeng snapped out of his reverie in the sound of the bell. He had actually sat there watching Zhou Ai for half an hour.
As the rhythmic bell ended, Chen Xunfeng stood up from the ground and patted his pants. In the past, Zhou Ai always walked home alone, but now there was a driver picking him up and dropping him off punctually every morning and evening. Chen Xunfeng probably guessed the reason it was because of the injuries on Zhou Ai’s body.
Falling down the stairs couldn’t possibly have injured only his waist. And since nearly a month had passed and Zhou Ai was still wearing a medical lumbar brace, he must have been injured quite badly at the start. But Zhou Ai didn’t want to talk about it, and Chen Xunfeng didn’t pursue it. He didn’t like forcing Zhou Ai to do things he didn’t want to do, including being interrogated about things he didn’t want to answer.
Besides, understanding many things didn’t just depend on asking.
The two of them walked together on the path from the school to the back gate as usual. The driver of Zhou Ai’s family always parked the car next to the fourth sycamore tree east of the back gate, so walking from the classroom to the car, at their pace, they could walk together for about four minutes.
After Zhou Ai got into the car, the driver glanced at Chen Xunfeng, who stood outside the car every day, and then drove off. Zhou Ai sat in the back seat, listening to English practice in his headphones, his gaze resting calmly on the rearview mirror in front.
As the car moved forward, Chen Xunfeng stood motionless in the mirror, but the distance between the two gradually widened. Chen Xunfeng’s figure became smaller and smaller, until, after turning a corner, he vanished completely.
Going home at night, it was still a dinner for five, and the dining table was as lively as ever with the conversation of the three adults.
Ever since Zhou Ai expressed his desire to change tutors, thoroughly infuriating Zhou Ruicheng, Zhou Ruicheng had become convinced of Chen Siliu’s excellence and held him in even higher regard. Conversely, he also believed that Zhou Ai had entered a rebellious phase and was becoming disobedient. He regarded Chen Siliu as a model of excellence for Zhou Ai, so the frequency of Chen Siliu appearing at their home increased.
Chen Siliu had already been recommended for graduate school in his senior year, so his time was relatively free. He had even taken over Zhou Youbao’s preschool tutoring.
During their evening session in the study, since the exams were near, Chen Siliu left more time for Zhou Ai to review on his own. He sat opposite Zhou Ai, propping his chin and watching the cold face of the teenager in front of him.
Zhou Ai was very focused, his neck slightly bent, his gaze fixed on the pages of the book, and he was highly efficient.
Chen Siliu had started as his tutor when Zhou Ai was in junior high. Zhou Ai’s grades had always been excellent, but Chen Siliu didn’t feel much of a sense of accomplishment because only he knew best that the help he provided to Zhou Ai was minimal.
Whatever he lectured, Zhou Ai would listen; whatever test papers he set, Zhou Ai would get everything right. But none of this was his merit. His role as a tutor was actually dispensable, but he had been short of money at the time, so he stayed on, continuing to deceive himself by doing useless work that Zhou Ai didn’t need.
The pay for this job was high, and the student, Zhou Ai, was exceptionally worry-free, a perfect part-time job. But as Zhou Ai gradually grew up, Chen Siliu discovered that his own mindset had slowly shifted. He had begun to develop an interest in Zhou Ai. He was no longer short of money, so his reason for staying changed into Zhou Ai himself.
Zhou Ai changed to another book. Chen Siliu snapped out of the state of staring straight at him. Zhou Ai just sat opposite him, quietly reading. He had no extra movements, but Chen Siliu didn’t know why this scene possessed a kind of attraction for him. He rarely daydreamed, but he had repeatedly lost himself in this silence.
Chen Siliu rubbed his eyes and handed a glass of water to Zhou Ai: “Drink some water and take a break.”
Zhou Ai opposite him didn’t pay him any mind at all, showing no reaction to his words.
Chen Siliu pursed his lips and hesitated for a moment. In this instant, he recalled what Zhou Ruicheng had said in front of him two days ago. Zhou Ruicheng had blamed Zhou Ai for being disobedient and insensate in front of him, saying that Zhou Ai wanted to replace him. He had known Zhou Ai for two years, but Zhou Ai had always kept him at a distance. In front of Zhou Ai, he felt as if he couldn’t grasp anything. He was rarely this anxious.
Therefore, Chen Siliu reached out directly and pressed his hand onto the book Zhou Ai was reading. He asked Zhou Ai: “Zhou Ai, did I do something wrong?”
Zhou Ai looked down at the hand covering his page and finally reacted. He furrowed his brows coldly, then slowly raised his head to look at the person opposite.
Chen Siliu finally met Zhou Ai’s gaze. He withdrew his hand, relaxed, smiled at Zhou Ai, and asked softly: “Am I… making you uncomfortable? Zhou Ai, you can tell me.”
Zhou Ai hadn’t had any interaction with him outside of lessons for a long time. Even during lessons, it was him lecturing and Zhou Ai listening quietly. During all other times, Zhou Ai was just like a beautiful shell without a soul.
Now, the expression on Zhou Ai’s face was finally not the usual indifference. Chen Siliu saw a clear coldness in Zhou Ai’s emotions, and then Zhou Ai raised his hand and signed a complete sentence to him: You need to be clear about this you are a teacher.
Zhou Ai meant that what he was doing now was entirely outside the scope of his professional duties.
Chen Siliu stared at him and said slowly but earnestly: “I can be more than just your teacher, Zhou Ai.”
This was his most obvious probing. Before, he had also felt that Zhou Ai was still young, and even when he realized he was starting to look forward to his daily meetings with Zhou Ai, he felt he was being too ridiculous.
At the start of his adolescence, he had known his orientation was toward boys, but he had never imagined that his heart would flutter so late for a high school student six years his junior. Yet, every time he saw Zhou Ai, he felt that this flutter was completely understandable. His original plan had been to wait for Zhou Ai to grow up a little more, or accompany Zhou Ai through the college entrance exam at the very least, wait for Zhou Ai to reach adulthood at 18. He believed he could wait, but Zhou Ai didn’t give him any opportunity to wait. Being by Zhou Ai’s side, he seemed to be less and less able to suppress his feelings.
So he discovered that he was increasingly disliking Zhou Ai’s indifference to him, disliking Zhou Ai’s pushing him away, and disliking Zhou Ai saying he wanted to replace him.
Then he grew anxious. He had even cast aside his original strategy of companionship the “warming the water to boil the frog” approach and was now rushing to reveal his intent without any preparation. He was now probing Zhou Ai’s reaction without any build-up.
As he finished speaking, Chen Siliu stared at Zhou Ai nervously, waiting for his response. At the same time, he was comforting himself for his lapse in speech saying it out loud was better. Once said, he wouldn’t need to restrain himself in front of Zhou Ai anymore.
Zhou Ai raised his eyes to glance at the wall clock. The designated lesson time went until 10:00 PM, and there was still half an hour left. Zhou Ai picked up the tablet resting nearby in the study. He tapped twice on a certain application, and the scene that suddenly appeared on the tablet screen was an overhead view of the study. In the center of the video, he and Chen Siliu were sitting.
This was installed by Zhou Ruicheng in the study after Zhou Ai proposed wanting to change tutors that time. Zhou Ruicheng was convinced that Zhou Ai was the problem. The installation of the camera was naturally not for Chen Siliu, but to intimidate Zhou Ai and monitor him during his study sessions.
Chen Siliu hadn’t waited for any response from Zhou Ai, and from Zhou Ai’s calm expression, he hadn’t even been able to tell if Zhou Ai had understood his probing.
Zhou Ai hadn’t even looked at him again. He just propped up the tablet beside them, synchronously playing the activity in the study, and then lowered his head, focusing all his attention on the page in his hand.
Chen Siliu’s gaze scanned the screen of the tablet. Zhou Ruicheng had already told him about the installation of monitoring in the study, but his mind had seemed entirely on Zhou Ai these past two days; he had almost forgotten the existence of this object. So, he hadn’t expected Zhou Ai to turn on the monitor at this moment, set it on the table, and use it as a blatant warning.
Before going to sleep that night, Zhou Ai noticed a new message received on his phone half an hour ago. Without even opening it, he already knew who the sender was.
He sat back against the windowsill and swiped open the message with one hand. It was an MMS photo. In the photo, the boy’s hand was lifting the chin of a small white kitten, and the cat’s blue eyes looked blankly at the camera.
Seeing the photo, Zhou Ai was not surprised. Since Chen Xunfeng had been stalking him for so long even the time for delivering breakfast every day was timed so accurately it was only natural that he would know of the existence of that group of cats. Then he remembered Chen Siliu saying that someone had been feeding the cats all along. So, that someone was Chen Xunfeng.
A message popped up at the top of the phone, containing a single character: Sleep.
Immediately following was another, as if in explanation: I’ve set up a message reading receipt; you’ve seen the information, and I’ve been notified here. It’s almost 1:00 AM; why aren’t you asleep yet?
Zhou Ai’s fingers slid across the phone screen. He paused, and then for the first time, he replied to the number on the other side: Sleep.
But after turning off the phone and lying in bed, Zhou Ai didn’t close his eyes for a while. He rested his arm over his forehead, aimlessly gazing at the cold white moonlight cast upon the black ceiling.
Chen Siliu’s hint to him today made him feel disgusted. At first, he had only disliked Chen Siliu’s excessive enthusiasm and proximity, but he truly hadn’t expected Chen Siliu to harbor such intentions. Before this, Zhou Ai had experienced very little normal affection or friendship; he had never even thought about his future partner. To him, the appearance of various emotions was like being shrouded in a white fog. Zhou Ai couldn’t see clearly, and he didn’t want to try to understand.
Seeing the letters girls wrote to him before, Zhou Ai actually didn’t have much of a ripple in his heart; he just respected them. But after Chen Siliu’s probing today, aside from disgust, a group of fog in Zhou Ai’s heart was cleared away. Zhou Ai realized clearly at this moment that there could be many patterns to feelings between boys and boys.
Zhou Ai gazed at the ceiling. He thought of Chen Xunfeng at this moment. The Chen Xunfeng of his childhood and the Chen Xunfeng of now overlapped in front of his eyes. Chen Xunfeng was not a friend; the feelings between friends were not as irreplaceable and singular as theirs. Chen Xunfeng was not a relative; they had no blood relationship. Chen Xunfeng was even less a lover.
Zhou Ai thought about this question for the first time. He thought of many things, but he could never find a suitable identity to anchor Chen Xunfeng.
…
The midterm exams were still held over two full days. After finishing the last exam, Chen Xunfeng waited for him at the entrance of Exam Hall 1.
After the papers for Hall 1 were collected, they left in order of their exam numbers. Zhou Ai was the first to leave the hall. Chen Xunfeng, waiting at the door, saw him coming and naturally opened a bottle of water to hand to Zhou Ai. Some people in Hall 1 looked out through the windows, anticipating the sight of the mute Zhou Ai signing, but the two of them didn’t even say much, as if a single look was enough to make them turn and leave in sync.
Passing Hall 2, Zhou Ai saw Teacher Qin standing at the back door, talking to a teacher. Teacher Qin’s expression was cold and severe, his brows knitted tightly. Chen Xunfeng suddenly grabbed his wrist at this moment and led him in another direction: “Let’s go this way.”
While walking down the stairs, Chen Xunfeng furrowed his brows and observed his school uniform while walking. He asked: “Did you really take off the lumbar brace?”
Zhou Ai raised his hand and unzipped his school jacket. Beneath the autumn school uniform was the plain white short-sleeved summer uniform. Zhou Ai’s skeletal silhouette was faintly visible beneath it. He had clearly removed the heavier medical lumbar support brace. Chen Xunfeng smiled, watched Zhou Ai raise his hand to zip up the zipper, and said: “I didn’t doubt you.”
As he spoke, Chen Xunfeng put away his smile. He looked at Zhou Ai and said quite earnestly: “I’m sending you home today.”
Yesterday at noon, Zhou Ruicheng’s assistant scheduled a physical follow-up for Zhou Ai. The result obtained was that the recovery was good, and he could stop taking medication and remove the lumbar brace. After returning from the hospital, Zhou Ruicheng had stopped his driver from picking him up and dropping him off every morning and evening.
Zhou Ruicheng’s considerations were always conflicting. On one hand, he believed Zhou Ai was about to become an adult and needed independence and self-reliance; on the other hand, he strictly controlled Zhou Ai in many aspects, feeling that Zhou Ai was rebellious and insensible.
He did not accept Zhou Ai’s disobedience, but he also didn’t like Zhou Ai’s calm obedience.
But now, Zhou Ai had indeed returned to walking to and from school by himself. Today’s exam ended an hour earlier than the usual time for school to end, and the two were walking toward the direction of the school playground.
Hearing this, Zhou Ai stopped his hand that was pulling up the zipper and turned his head to look over.
Chen Xunfeng met Zhou Ai’s gaze, looking at him quietly, and suddenly recited his name: “Zhou Ai.”
It was a quite meaningless call, and the tone was also light and faint, but when Zhou Ai heard it, he didn’t shake his head to refuse again.
The two walked out of the teaching building, and the autumn wind rushed toward them along with the rays of the sunset. Only then did Chen Xunfeng bring up the reason for having Zhou Ai walk downstairs just now.
Chen Xunfeng looked toward the distance, moved his arms, and said to Zhou Ai beside him: “Hu Cheng from your class… was caught cheating on the exam.”