Lin Fei looked at the book in his hand, his gaze sweeping across the rows of bookshelves, and then inserted it into its rightful category.
He let go of the book, involuntarily thinking of Ji Leyu again.
—He actually didn’t stay here to do homework, but really went back.
This is very unusual. Could Jiang Jingshuo be the reason for his unusual behavior?
Leaning against the desk, Lin Fei thought for a moment, then decided to go and see Ji Leyu.
Just as he took a step forward, his phone rang. It was a WeChat message from Jiang Jingshuo.
[I’ve thought about it for a long time, and I still think I should talk to you. Are you free now? Is Ji Leyu with you?]
Lin Fei looked at the three words “Ji Leyu” and stopped in his tracks.
He leaned back to the edge of the desk and replied, [He’s not here. You tell me.]
Jiang Jingshuo seemed to find text inadequate and directly initiated a voice call.
Lin Fei answered, and on the other end, Jiang Jingshuo sounded unusually hesitant, almost embarrassed.
“Let me clarify first, I really don’t intend to sow discord between you two. I just feel he might genuinely care about you, which is why he did what he did. I didn’t mean for this to cause a rift between you.”
Lin Fei nodded, “Okay.”
“Alright, I’ll say it, but please don’t get upset.”
Jiang Jingshuo heard Lin Fei’s typically calm “Okay,” and hesitantly explained his thoughts from the past couple of days.
Being a smart person, he was initially charmed by Ji Leyu’s kindness, but gradually he started noticing something amiss.
Since their first meeting, Ji Leyu had shown great enthusiasm, claiming that since he was Lin Fei’s friend, he was also his friend. Now, finding himself alone in this unfamiliar place, Ji Leyu naturally took it upon himself to look after him more, to prevent him from feeling lonely.
And indeed, he did so—initiating conversations, going shopping together, inviting him to play basketball, even introducing his own friends, who warmly included him in their daily meals.
However, all this warmth was confined to the school environment.
Publicly, at least.
Once they left school, Ji Leyu never initiated a WeChat message or spoke to him. Sometimes when Jiang Jingshuo messaged him, Ji Leyu’s replies were mostly that he was doing homework.
His emojis were cute, but his words were scarce.
Yet Jiang Jingshuo knew he wasn’t someone who spoke little.
His warmth and kindness seemed to be limited to campus life; outside it, they receded like the tide, disappearing altogether.
Jiang Jingshuo quickly realized that perhaps Ji Leyu wasn’t as warm-hearted as he appeared.
Why did he display such warmth that shouldn’t have existed in front of him?
He didn’t have to work hard to find the answer.
Because of Lin Fei.
Because Ji Leyu didn’t want him to get close to Lin Fei.
So he proactively showed his warmth, making himself approachable, ensuring that Lin Fei wouldn’t have more interactions with him.
That’s why he was only warm and proactive towards him at school.
That’s why Shi Qi and the others only invited him to have lunch.
“It’s strange, isn’t it? We’ve only just met, and it’s not like we’re very close, but he invites me to have lunch every day. Isn’t that too caring of him?” Jiang Jingshuo chuckled. “Even if I’m really popular, I wouldn’t eat with someone I just met every day, right?”
Lin Fei listened to him without much change in expression, simply responding softly.
His response was too simple and calm, leaving Jiang Jingshuo momentarily unsure of what he was thinking.
But in the end, Lin Fei and Ji Leyu grew up together. Their bond was deep, and Jiang Jingshuo could understand Ji Leyu’s concern for him. Besides, Ji Leyu was undeniably excessively good-looking. Even now, Jiang Jingshuo didn’t think Ji Leyu had any ill intentions.
“He’s probably just afraid that I’ll get close to you and take you away from him. It’s not like he really dislikes me,” Jiang Jingshuo reassured. “So I’m just letting you know, don’t blame him.”
Of course, Lin Fei wouldn’t blame him.
Basically, as long as Ji Leyu wasn’t committing crimes, Lin Fei wouldn’t blame him.
Just getting close to Jiang Jingshuo and wanting him to keep his distance was already quite rare and not easy. Ji Leyu didn’t even assertively demand that Jiang Jingshuo stop interacting with him, which was already quite remarkable.
Lin Fei even felt that he had grown up a bit this time, which was something to be happy about.
“I understand,” he said calmly and composedly.
Seeing that Lin Fei didn’t seem inclined to blame Ji Leyu, Jiang Jingshuo felt relieved.
“Then talk to him about it,” he said. “I just want to be friends with you, not start a romance. He doesn’t need to be so nervous. And there’s no need for his friends to come find me for lunch every day. Even if they don’t come, I wouldn’t be asking you to eat together every day.”
“Mm.”
“Alright, I’ll hang up now.” Jiang Jingshuo finished and ended the call.
His intention wasn’t to sabotage Lin Fei’s relationship with Ji Leyu. It was just the first time encountering such a situation, which left him unsure how to react. Feeling it was unnecessary, he informed Lin Fei in hopes that he could talk to Ji Leyu.
After all, Ji Leyu’s relationship with Lin Fei was solid, and compared to them, he was just an outsider.
As a friend, he didn’t want to hide anything from Lin Fei, but as an outsider, he didn’t feel he had the right to criticize or blame Ji Leyu beyond Lin Fei.
Moreover, even if he confronted Ji Leyu directly and clarified the situation, what would change?
If Ji Leyu admitted it, things would be awkward; if Ji Leyu denied it, things would still be awkward.
It seemed better to leave this matter to Lin Fei to handle. Eventually, they could all pretend this had never happened, turn the page, and move on.
Who would dislike a good-looking and affectionate younger brother?
At least Jiang Jingshuo didn’t dislike him, so he didn’t want any unpleasantness between him and Ji Leyu over this matter.
He set down his phone, picked up his pen, and resumed working on the exercises on his desk.
Unaware that Lin Fei had already talked with Jiang Jingshuo during his venting period, Ji Leyu went about his own business.
After venting, Ji Leyu turned and walked into the training room’s private bathroom, took a shower, and casually grabbed a clean set of pajamas from the bathroom closet to change into.
He wasn’t in a hurry to return to his bedroom; instead, he went to the nearby balcony.
Ji Leyu looked at the night in front of him and quietly sat down on the balcony.
Tonight’s sky was devoid of stars, as bleak and oppressive as a sea about to engulf everything.
He gazed silently, eyelashes glistening with moisture.
He blinked, and tears fell from his eyes.
Ji Leyu was surprised, staring blankly, as if he didn’t understand why he was crying.
He didn’t have the desire to cry, nor did he think he should be crying.
Then why is he crying?
Ji Leyu was perplexed.
The night wind blew, lifting his thin clothes like waves carried by the wind, and stirring like wings fluttering inadvertently.
He felt something gentle and warm land on his shoulder.
Ji Leyu turned around, the wind tousling his hair and unsettling his slender figure, also disarranging the sadness in his eyes.
He looked up at the person before him, pale yet stunningly beautiful, like a flower blooming in the darkness of night.
His eyes shimmered, filled with vast galaxies.
Tonight’s sky had no stars, for all the stars were in his eyes.
Lin Fei looked at the tear stains on Ji Leyu’s face, feeling both heartache and tenderness.
He reached out and gently wiped away the traces from his face.
Stroking his cheek, as if sighing, he whispered softly, “Why are you crying again?”
His tenderness was beyond words.