That summer in middle school, cicadas droned endlessly through the air. There was no wind, no hint of coolness. Scorching heat and drifting dust seemed to wear away at the world itself. The house was silent. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, the clock on the wall had stopped moving, and only one pillow remained in the room. Ke Bu sat on a stool, staring at the sheet of paper placed before him, his face completely expressionless. After a long while, he lifted his head and looked at the two people standing in front of him. “I understand.” With that, he stood up. The stool toppled backward with a dull crash. Without even looking back, he opened the door and left.
People on the street jostled Ke Bu as they passed. There were so many of them, yet the loneliness was terrifying. He had nowhere he wanted to go and no desire to arrive anywhere. The weight pressing against his chest was crushing, yet it still refused to spill from his eyes. Who said sadness meant you had to cry? What was this feeling of utter helplessness?
In this world, even life itself was frighteningly short. Taken away by time, taken away by illness, taken away by pain, taken away by one’s own hands. What, exactly, was eternal? Ke Bu slammed his fist hard against the wall, ignoring the startled looks from passersby. The skin over his knuckles scraped open, faint traces of blood showing beneath. Ke Bu smiled bitterly. What was with this miserable storyline? Reality? A reality so cruel that no one even wanted to look at it?
Ke Bu slid down the wall and sat on the ground, curling up his legs and resting both hands on his knees. His gaze wandered aimlessly through the passing crowd as he numbly watched people appear and disappear before him. Finally, something caught his attention: a boy sitting at the bus stop. His clothes were clean and white, just like the boy himself. His beautiful face was plainly visible, yet somehow hazy and unreal. The beautiful boy boarded none of the buses that came. He simply sat there coldly, as though he had nothing to do with the world around him. Everything about him was impossibly beautiful. Ke Bu remembered seeing that face before. It was Zhi Li, someone from the same school, a name often discussed by girls.
His mouth felt strangely tasteless. An urge to talk to someone surged up from his chest, setting his blood boiling and driving him to his feet. He bought two popsicles from a nearby store and walked toward the beautiful boy who had, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, taken over his entire field of vision. Ke Bu stopped in front of Zhi Li and held out one of the popsicles. “This isn’t my treat. We’re splitting the cost.” A completely inexplicable opening line. Those were the first words Ke Bu ever said to Zhi Li. Zhi Li looked warily at the popsicle, then at Ke Bu, who tilted his head with a smile as bright as blooming flowers.
“What’s with that look? I’m not evil enough to poison you.”
Zhi Li said nothing and accepted the popsicle. Ke Bu sat down beside him, eating his own. “This spot is really cool. Nothing beats something cold in summer.”
“It’s not a flavor I like.”
“Do you even know how to socialize?”
“What do you have to offer that would make social niceties worth the effort?” Zhi Li stated the truth in an utterly flat tone.
Ke Bu was startled by the force of Zhi Li’s comeback, then burst out laughing. “You’re seriously realistic, Zhi Li. What do you think of my looks?”
“Ordinary.”
Ke Bu bit into his popsicle as though the answer had confirmed exactly what he expected. “You’re way too direct! Seriously, you really don’t seem to understand what should and shouldn’t be said. Let me kindly remind you, then: with that personality and a face like yours, there’s a very high chance other guys will get jealous of you.”
“Worry about yourself instead.” Still as indifferent as ever.
“A normal guy like me doesn’t have those kinds of worries. But…” Ke Bu crunched the ice in his mouth, tilted his head back to swallow it, then looked at Zhi Li, sunlight glinting in his eyes. “But I really like your personality. In this world, only by seeing reality clearly can people keep themselves from living too painfully.” The popsicle in Zhi Li’s hand slowly melted, droplets falling onto the ground. He looked at Ke Bu, at his dark pupils, at the brightness in his eyes.
Ke Bu stood in front of a shop window, with Zhi Li about a meter away beside him. Both of them watched the news playing on the television in the display. It was reporting on a male celebrity who had come out and admitted he was gay. Ke Bu touched his lips, reddened by the cold popsicle. Loneliness. A terrifying loneliness crept over Ke Bu’s heart. He wanted to grab hold of the boy beside him. He didn’t understand why. He simply wanted to hold on to him tightly. Just him. Only him.
“So two guys really can date each other,” Ke Bu said with sudden realization as he turned his head. “Zhi Li, want to try it with me?” For some reason, the joke simply slipped out. The other person gave no response. Just as Ke Bu was awkwardly trying to take the words back, Zhi Li’s voice reached him like a beautiful musical note. “Okay.” It was an answer Ke Bu had never even imagined.
“Don’t misunderstand. Of course, we’re only trying it out. If either of us ends up liking someone else, we break up immediately. Even if we’re dating, I won’t make any weird demands. It’ll only be in name. I’m just curious whether two men can really date each other.” Ke Bu hurriedly explained himself, but the truth was simply that he wanted to use the label of “dating” to keep Zhi Li by his side. Even if it lasted only one day. Even if only for a little while. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Zhi Li held out his hand. “Deal.” Ke Bu reached out as well, and their two youthful hands clasped together, sealing this special agreement built on a lie.
Ke Bu lay sprawled across the exercise equipment in the park, his legs hooked through the metal bars for support. He struggled through a single sit-up before collapsing back down, squinting at the sun hanging overhead and covering his eyes with one hand. “My parents got divorced today.” There was not the slightest trace of sadness in his voice.
“Then I win, don’t I? My parents got divorced yesterday, one day before yours.”
“No one’s competing with you over that.” Ke Bu looked at Zhi Li through the gaps between his fingers. At last, he understood why he had wanted to talk to him, why he had felt such a powerful need to keep him by his side. It turned out that in Zhi Li, he had seen the same color he carried within himself.
“Hey, Zhi Li, my name is Ke Bu. Remember that name, okay?”
“Hey, Zhi Li, you’ll stay with me, right?”
“How long?”
Ke Bu thought about it for a while before shamelessly asking for the impossible. “Stay with me until I’m old. So old I’ve forgotten there was ever someone like you.” Zhi Li said nothing and took two steps backward. Ke Bu thought he was leaving, abandoning him. The only support he had managed to grasp in all that emptiness was going to leave him just as his shattered family had. He scrambled to his feet in panic and grabbed Zhi Li’s clothes, his voice trembling and fragile. “Don’t go, Zhi Li. Don’t go, Zhi Li. Don’t go, Zhi Li.” The words repeated over and over in a murmur. Yet Zhi Li still left. Ke Bu crouched on the ground, completely at a loss. How stupid. To put all his vulnerability into the hands of a stranger. And now that stranger had left too.
“Hey.” Zhi Li lightly kicked the toe of Ke Bu’s shoe.
Ke Bu looked up in surprise. Zhi Li crouched down as well, took Ke Bu’s hand, and placed a bandage over the wound from earlier. Ke Bu frowned.
“If it hurts, then say so.” It was only a single, baffling sentence. Tears burst from Ke Bu’s eyes as he slammed his head into Zhi Li’s chest, knocking Zhi Li backward onto the ground. Warm body heat. The scent of laundry detergent. Ke Bu clutched tightly at Zhi Li’s clothes and cried uncontrollably while Zhi Li patted his head as though soothing a child. “You’re seriously troublesome. I only told you to say something if it hurts. I never told you to cry.”
Ke Bu’s shoulders shook violently, tears pouring down his face, yet he couldn’t stop himself from laughing through them.
“So do you actually want to cry or laugh?”
“If you hadn’t said something so weird, I’d probably want to cry.” Ke Bu lifted his head from Zhi Li’s chest. “Zhi Li… why?” Why come back? Why go this far? Was he really this pathetic now, begging other people for sympathy?
The corners of Zhi Li’s lips curved into a mesmerizing arc, like white flowers blooming and drifting through the air. That flawless smile etched itself deep into Ke Bu’s memory forever. Zhi Li raised his hand, curled his thumb and middle finger together, and lightly flicked Ke Bu on the forehead. “Because starting today, I’m your man.”
After that, life didn’t really change much. It was simply knowing that this title existed, knowing that Zhi Li existed. They met occasionally and talked occasionally, their relationship faint and indistinct, close yet distant. For Ke Bu, that was enough. Comforting enough. Natural enough. He chose the high school Zhi Li attended. He chose the university Zhi Li attended.
A relationship existing only in name, with no romance in it.
Just a childish joke between two boys. Yet who could have imagined that it would bind the two of them together so deeply?