The moment Pinjun came home, he caught a delicious smell. He couldn’t help rolling his shoulders as warmth seemed to spread through his whole body.
The wind had already picked up outside, and once the sun went down, the temperature would plunge. Nothing warmed both body and soul better than red-braised beef. Pinjun took off his coat and walked into the dining room. Sure enough, he found Haiqing setting the pot on the table, and a grin immediately spread across his face.
Two sets of bowls and chopsticks, two chairs. The dining table in this home had always been simple and warm. There was never a lavish spread. Sometimes there was only rice with a simple plate of stir-fried greens and a fried egg, but whenever both of them were home, they would sit at this table and eat together.
“The department chair wants me to apply directly to our department’s graduate program. I told him I wanted to think about it, and he wasn’t very happy about that…” Pinjun put a piece of beef into Haiqing’s bowl and served up what had happened at school that day as a side dish. “I told him I wanted to apply to other schools too. Guess what he did?”
Haiqing opened his mouth to bite into the beef and looked curiously at Pinjun.
“What? Did he throw you out?”
“He actually upped the offer. He said he’d set up a scholarship for me and told me to get my transcript and everything ready and just submit it straight to the department office.”
“Aren’t admissions not even open yet? That’s way too much.” Haiqing burst out laughing.
Pinjun thought it was outrageous too, but at the same time, a confident smile appeared on his face. Haiqing had seen that smile many times before, such as when they watched that commercial premiere on television together, or when a classmate said that no one else would do. At times like this, Pinjun was like the king of the kids, radiating a sun-bright charm.
Haiqing loved Pinjun best when he was like this. He could even say he was a little mesmerized by him.
“Who knows? Competition for students is fierce now, I guess… Hm?” Pinjun suddenly stopped moving. At some point, a scent distinct from the red-braised beef had become sharply noticeable. It was a fragrance that had never appeared in this home before, and it caught his attention.
Haiqing saw him abruptly close his eyes and focus on breathing in, and he stopped what he was doing to watch. Pinjun followed the scent until he realized it was coming from the hair of the man in front of him. “Did you buy a new shampoo? It smells so good!” He leaned closer, openly enchanted by the fragrance in Haiqing’s hair.
“No. This is…” Haiqing was about to explain when several images he could never say aloud suddenly came to mind.
“Xiao K had me try a spritz of cologne.”
“Really? It smells great. Let me smell it again.” Pinjun simply put down his chopsticks and pulled his chair beside Haiqing’s. With the two chairs pressed snugly together, there was plenty of room for Pinjun to bury his face in Haiqing’s hair and breathe in the scent.
As Haiqing listened to him say how good it smelled, he lowered his gaze. Images flashed through his mind of Yan Fei holding him, kissing and touching him, until the scents on their bodies had become indistinguishable from each other.
After that day, Haiqing never contacted Yan Fei on his own, but the two of them began seeing each other often.
Most of the time, Yan Fei would call from his car after work and ask where Haiqing was and whether he wanted to have dinner together. At first Haiqing rarely agreed, but he did not go to many places, and after being intercepted several times, he eventually gave in to Yan Fei’s half-coercive, half-enticing persuasion.
That evening, Haiqing had lost count of how many nights he had gone to dinner with Yan Fei and then let him drive him home. At first he still had to give directions, but now Yan Fei could take him all the way to his door without either of them saying a word. The change felt a little too natural to Haiqing, yet he could not say exactly what was wrong about it.
“I’ll go, then,” Haiqing said softly. He was about to open the car door when Yan Fei stopped him.
Yan Fei leaned over Haiqing with his usual domineering force and clicked the door locks shut. The distinctive scent of his suit mixed with sweat, yet it was not unpleasant at all. To Haiqing, it felt like an intimate signal.
“Wait.” Yan Fei sat back in the driver’s seat and switched off the engine. The car suddenly became very quiet, no longer disturbed by the rumble of the motor.
“Why do you still never call me?” Yan Fei asked.
“I don’t want to hurt Pinjun.” Haiqing sighed. They had already had this conversation the first time Yan Fei drove him home. Haiqing’s answer then had been the same. He did not want to hurt Pinjun, so he had no intention of contacting Yan Fei first.
Yan Fei could see his hesitation, but he could not understand why Haiqing’s thinking was so constrained. He cupped Haiqing’s cheeks in his hands and kissed him before Haiqing had time to react.
Haiqing had far less experience than Yan Fei. After only a handful of kisses, Yan Fei had already learned exactly where he was sensitive. At first, Haiqing would always clench his teeth, trying to keep Yan Fei out, but when Yan Fei stubbornly stroked the tips of his teeth with his tongue, pried open his resistance, and traced out his desire, Haiqing would tremble all over, his eyes wet and his expression alluring. Even a little caressing through his clothes over his lower abdomen was enough to pull sharp moans from between his lips, and inside the enclosed car they sounded even richer and more intoxicating.
Saliva slipped down through the slight gap between their lips, adding an unmistakably sensual cast to Haiqing’s expression. Yan Fei lightly nibbled his lower lip, his fingers searching through the dampness. Haiqing could not help grabbing Yan Fei’s wrist with both hands, but the resistance was useless. If anything, it only made Yan Fei feel Haiqing’s desire for him more deeply.
“Mm…” Tears gathered at the corners of Haiqing’s eyes, and there seemed to be a plea in his gaze.
Yan Fei pulled down Haiqing’s pants. The sight and sensation of being stroked rapidly in Yan Fei’s palm almost drove Haiqing out of his mind. Surrounded by violent pleasure while Yan Fei’s low murmurs kept stimulating him beside his ear, Haiqing first shuddered fiercely from head to toe, then curled in on himself in the seat, his trembling lashes lending him a painfully vulnerable air.
“But you feel something for me.” Yan Fei stroked the side of his neck. The thick callus along his fingertip created an unimaginable sensation against Haiqing’s skin. It was not too direct, yet once he noticed it, there was no escaping it.
“…I also… love Pinjun.” Haiqing had not yet recovered from the lingering rush of what had just happened, and his breathlessness made the words sound weaker and weaker.
Yan Fei gave a bitter smile at the familiar answer.
“Are you free tomorrow?” The subject changed abruptly. Yan Fei stopped dwelling on who loved whom more, or who treated whom better. “I haven’t gone swimming in a while. What about you?”
“…Me neither.”
“Then let’s go together tomorrow, okay?”
Yan Fei reached across him and pressed down the seat-control lever. Seeing Haiqing jump when the seatback suddenly dropped in front of him made Yan Fei laugh again.
“Class tomorrow? Work?” Yan Fei asked as he leaned down, their warm lips and skin already familiar with one another.
“Tomorrow… I have one class. No work…” Haiqing pressed his lips together, feeling Yan Fei’s breath slowly mingle with the heat below his waist. Desire wound around him like honey. Even knowing it was dangerous, he still wanted to taste it.
“Then I’ll pick you up.” Yan Fei pulled away, then teasingly switched to his tongue. Haiqing let out a moan, and the words reaching his ears seemed to come through a layer of gauze.
Haiqing sat in the passenger seat. The nervous flutter of his lashes made him look uneasy, and his body was held taut. The unease inside him spread wider and wider.
Haiqing felt that he had been tricked.
The next morning, Yan Fei had called first. After confirming that Haiqing was home, he came to pick him up. They did not talk much on the road, and when the car had been driving for half an hour without reaching their destination, Haiqing knew something was wrong.
“Aren’t we going to a swimming pool?” Haiqing looked out at the scenery, which was becoming less and less urban, unable to suppress his suspicion.
“It is a swimming pool.” Yan Fei grinned as he drove.
The car continued for a while longer before finally stopping in front of a hot-spring hotel. Yan Fei’s expression seemed to spell out the entire elaborate plan, from deliberately asking the day before a holiday whether Haiqing was free, to driving over to pick him up without telling him where they were going. It had all been part of the plan.
“The pool at this hot-spring hotel is excellent. My company has an arrangement with them. Whenever we host overseas clients, we have them stay here. The pool is huge, even more professional than the one at the sports center.” Yan Fei parked the car and introduced the place with the air of the hotel’s owner.
Haiqing had no way forward or back. He certainly could not walk back to the city, so he could only follow Yan Fei through the lobby. The mention of “overseas clients” made him uneasy, so he kept his head down the entire way and did not dare walk too close to Yan Fei.
“You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?” Haiqing stared at Yan Fei with some displeasure in the elevator.
“Actually, not long.” Yan Fei smiled and took his hand. In this enclosed space, there was no need to worry about other people’s eyes. “I only thought of it yesterday when I drove you home.”
The elevator rose to the top floor. A neatly dressed attendant led them to the changing room and handed them two sets of swimming gear. One set was brand-new and meant for Haiqing. Yan Fei’s had already been opened, but after being washed and sealed in a protective bag, it looked no different from new.
“Please enjoy yourselves.” With that, the attendant left.
They changed and met beside the pool. Haiqing set his bag down on a chair, and at Yan Fei’s insistence, they went into the water and swam several laps together. As Yan Fei had said, he had not swum in a long time and his movements were a little rusty. Haiqing helped him review his technique, and after a few rounds Yan Fei found his rhythm again. After several laps, Haiqing surrendered first and climbed the ladder to a lounge chair by the pool to rest.
His lowered fingers brushed his bag, and he suddenly remembered that when they first met, he had also sat at the edge like this secretly taking photos of Yan Fei. Remembering how furtive he had been then, he also remembered the sketchbook in his bag from his first class that morning. He took it out, flipped to a blank page, and began sketching. The subject was always Yan Fei: swimming through the water, lifting his head to breathe, looking toward Haiqing from far away, and the movement of the muscles across his body as he swam. All of it came back to life in the sketchbook.
Yan Fei seemed to be getting the hang of it. His movements grew more precise, and he even started competing with himself, trying to complete each lap faster than the one before. People around the pool could not help looking over. Haiqing sketched intently until Yan Fei had finally had enough and climbed the ladder toward him, at which point Haiqing hurriedly snapped the sketchbook shut.
“You’re not swimming?” Yan Fei noticed that Haiqing had only done a few laps with him at the beginning and had spent the rest of the time resting here.
“In a minute.”
Yan Fei could not help looking a little helpless.
Silently, he dried himself with a towel, then put on sunglasses and lay down on the lounge chair.
Haiqing looked over his sketches with the same treasure-hoarding delight with which he had once kept those secretly taken photographs. Then he stuffed the sketchbook back into his bag.
“Yan Fei,” Haiqing suddenly called.
“Hm?” Yan Fei answered casually, clearly completely relaxed.
“I just wanted to make sure of your name.”
Unlike a year ago, this time Haiqing had not lost Yan Fei’s name. To Haiqing, it felt almost like a ritual, one meant to put an end to an old regret.
Yan Fei naturally had no idea what Haiqing meant. He assumed Haiqing was calling his name to affirm what he felt. Childish as the gesture might have been, it worked very well on Yan Fei. A surge of emotion rose in his chest, something entirely new that swept over him before he knew it.
Yan Fei reached out. While Haiqing was still hesitating, he took his hand directly. Their body heat passed between their tightly clasped palms, and at that moment the looks from everyone around them no longer mattered. No one here knew who they were anyway.
“Want to go out and walk around?” Yan Fei suggested after dinner.
“Where?”
“Walk along the mountain roads. See the sea, that sort of thing.”
Haiqing was a little tempted, but it was already too late. He had not told Pinjun in advance that he would be staying out overnight, so he refused.
Yan Fei understood that his invitation had been too sudden, so later that evening he drove Haiqing home and, as usual before Haiqing got out, said, “Call me.”
Haiqing got out without making any promise. He could not afford to make one, and he could not give one.
That night, after Pinjun had fallen asleep, Haiqing quietly slipped under the covers and held him tight. Haiqing did not know that he had already woken Pinjun, or that his slightly guilty kisses and embrace made it hard for Pinjun to breathe.
When Pinjun woke, he was alone in bed. The sunlight was so bright he could barely open his eyes.
He lay there a little longer, letting his mind, which had failed to wake up with the rest of him, slowly come online. His throat was so dry that swallowing sent a sharp, unmistakable pain through it, and he frowned.
Once his headache eased a little, Pinjun slowly got out of bed, went to the kitchen, and poured himself a large glass of water. The moment the warm water slid down his throat, the pain seemed to flow away with it. He wondered if the sudden cold weather the day before, combined with not putting on another layer when he slept, had caused the ominous change in his throat.
Rubbing his throat, he wandered into the living room and noticed an abrupt rectangular patch of color in the otherwise familiar room. Pinjun moved closer and realized it was Haiqing’s sketchbook. He guessed Haiqing had casually left it on the coffee table when he came home the night before and accidentally knocked it to the floor on his way out.
Pinjun set his glass on the coffee table, sat down, and picked up the sketchbook to flip through it.
He knew that Haiqing’s sketches sometimes followed a theme, whether still lifes or landscapes. Haiqing had said it made things easier when he had to submit work to his professor. After turning several pages, Pinjun guessed that this book was probably devoted to figure studies. Every face belonged to the same man, though the clothes varied. In several drawings the man was even nude, the lines of his muscles rendered in fine, economical pencil strokes. It was not hard to imagine how good the model’s actual physique must have been.
Sketch after sketch entered Pinjun’s sight and passed out of it again. He felt that the man’s face looked vaguely familiar, and even some of the clothes seemed as though he had seen them before. But there were too few clues. Merely trying to remember made his head hurt because the images were so scattered, much less trying to identify the man with certainty.
“No one can draw me better than you. I really like it.”
Pinjun left the note in the sketchbook and put it back in Haiqing’s studio. Yet a small doubt in his heart had been growing over the past few days. He had not noticed it at first, but now that he had, he could no longer dismiss it as “just overthinking.” There was that unfamiliar scent that had been appearing more and more often, Haiqing coming home later and later…
Maybe he really was just thinking too much?
Pinjun let out a shallow sigh. He kept feeling that the clues he could not help noticing might not be baseless after all, yet he had no idea what he could do. Other than working harder to keep the home clean, coming back often to prepare hot meals, and expressing his love through touch, what else was there?
Pinjun picked up the glass and drained it, staring absently at the empty bottom.
Lately, he seemed especially prone to zoning out. Was it because he was not busy enough? Rubbing both hands hard over his face, Pinjun began planning the rest of his day. He had two classes in the afternoon, then work. By the time he got home from work it would probably be late, so he could not prepare anything too elaborate for a late-night snack. Maybe a simple hot sandwich would do. That would be easy to microwave…
Time passed amid these tiny, ordinary calculations.
The long seawall stretched out like an arm, its unseen far end disappearing into the sea. A slightly cool sea breeze, tinged with salt, brushed Haiqing’s cheeks. He had not come to the seaside in many years, and both the smell of the wind and the vastness of the water pulled him completely in. If it had not been so cold, he might even have gone for a swim.
Yan Fei kept his promise and, some time later, invited Haiqing to the seaside. Even though Haiqing felt it was improper, Yan Fei’s assertiveness worked on him like a bewitching potion, and in the end Haiqing followed him out anyway.
As Yan Fei drove Haiqing along the mountain road, his questions took on a deliberate edge.
“Let’s stay out tonight and not go back, okay?” He held the steering wheel steadily through the curve without a trace of hesitation, exactly like the feeling he gave Haiqing.
Haiqing neither agreed nor refused. He only stared silently at the mountain road ahead.
“Do you still have class tomorrow?”
“No. I didn’t tell Pinjun I’d be staying out overnight. He’ll worry.” Haiqing thought about how Pinjun had been preparing late-night snacks for him every day lately so that he could focus on drawing, and the guilt in his heart grew heavier.
“Then tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
Faced with the question, Yan Fei fell silent too. It was like the feeling of the two of them walking one behind the other by the sea now, accompanied only by the low howl of the wind.
Right. What was he supposed to tell Pinjun? Haiqing smiled bitterly.
“Do you prefer mountains or the sea?” Yan Fei came up beside him and asked as naturally as he had in the car, as though he were asking whether Haiqing wanted udon or purple rice for dinner.
“I like rivers,” Haiqing answered.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard someone say they like rivers.” Yan Fei looked at Haiqing and quietly took his hand as they walked side by side.
Haiqing was not surprised by that.
“Don’t you think rivers are fascinating? They begin high up in the mountains, then keep flowing and flowing… flowing through cities and villages and valleys and all sorts of places, and eventually they always reach the sea. Somewhere along the way, they might even merge with another river.”
Yan Fei studied Haiqing’s profile. In those deep, melancholy eyes, he seemed to see an entire journey through nature. It was something that happened every day, every moment, yet in Haiqing’s eyes it was utterly unique.
“I suppose you’re right.” Yan Fei had to agree. “There are so many rivers in the world. Every river is like a journey, and no two rivers are the same.”
Haiqing laughed softly. “What about you?”
“I like the sea.” Yan Fei was frank about it, with no attempt to flatter anyone by saying something he did not mean.
Haiqing turned to look at him, his eyes asking the question without a sound.
“The sea is mysterious. I can’t really explain it. I can’t even tell whether I like it or I’m afraid of it.”
“Like you?” Haiqing’s lips curved. Mysterious, unfathomable, sometimes so domineering that he would not allow Haiqing to refuse, and at other times so gentle that Haiqing could sink into him and lose himself.
Yan Fei seemed to see straight through what he was thinking, and his laugh sounded pleased.
“Like fate.” He caught Haiqing by the arm, instantly closing the distance between them. “I can’t imagine what my life would be like now if we hadn’t met again.”
“Would it really be that different?” Haiqing could not imagine how much difference there could be. Someone missing from one’s life did not necessarily change anything. They would simply go on living separate lives.
“Isn’t the difference between being happy and unhappy big enough?” Yan Fei looked straight at him, and the meaning behind the words was unmistakable.
I’m happy. What about you?
Haiqing was not stupid. He understood.
“Maybe you’d have met someone else and still been happy.” Haiqing turned his face away, unable to meet his eyes. He thought of Pinjun. Pinjun was the “someone else” in Haiqing’s own life.
“All those maybes are too late now. I met you again. None of the other possibilities are going to happen.”
“Then what about me?”
“You’re waiting for me.” Yan Fei sounded far too certain, like someone who already had the whole situation under control. A questioning resentment, almost bordering on aversion, rose in Haiqing. How can you say that?
“No. After I got together with Pinjun, I almost forgot you completely.” That was the truth.
There had been moments when Haiqing remembered him again, but never for long. The irony was that Haiqing now realized he could not deny one fact: he had never truly forgotten Yan Fei.
The place Haiqing had once made for him in his heart had never been occupied by anyone else.
“Is that so?” Yan Fei pulled him into his arms. His eyes were hawklike, always able to see through Haiqing’s thoughts at a glance, including his guilt and the truth in his heart.
“Then why did you remember me the instant you saw me again? You never forgot me, did you?”
Yes.
Haiqing stayed silent, but they both understood the answer.
“I know. You’re waiting for me to say it now, to give you an option for the future so you can make a decision. But that’s not going to happen.” Yan Fei watched Haiqing’s eyes shoot up in denial. “If you want something, you have to say it out loud. Otherwise no one will know.”
What do I want? Haiqing was suddenly at a loss.
The things he wanted had always been forbidden, while the things that were approved, even enthusiastically praised, were never what he wanted. Over time, Haiqing had almost stopped thinking about what he wanted or how much he was willing to give in exchange. Instead…
I don’t want to be abandoned.
I don’t want to be rejected.
I don’t want to spend my whole life walking only the roads other people chose for me.
I don’t want…
The sound of the waves was right beside them. Haiqing closed his eyes and felt the soft, lingering kisses brushing over his lips. The sea wind howled in his ears. He still thought of Pinjun, but the thought was immediately driven away again by Yan Fei’s burning heat.
Yet one question kept circling in Haiqing’s mind.
On the drive back, while the car was parked downstairs from his building, Haiqing turned to Yan Fei. “Right now… you’re not with anyone else, are you?” He remembered the scene he had witnessed when he went to the school to find Pinjun, Yan Fei passionately kissing someone in the car.
Why, when you know I have Pinjun, can you still insist so fiercely on being with me? Haiqing could not understand whether Yan Fei was simply too confident or whether there was some other reason. Otherwise, how could he fail to understand how difficult it was for Haiqing to be caught between two people? Haiqing liked them both. Both treated him well. More importantly, each occupied a different but equally important part of his life…
How was he supposed to choose?
Haiqing had tried talking to someone, only to find that it made things worse. Xiao K scolded him but also felt sorry for him. Pinjun, who knew nothing, only treated him with greater and greater care. All of it became pressure on Haiqing and made him judge himself even more harshly for wavering between Pinjun and Yan Fei.
Yan Fei took in every change in Haiqing’s expression. He understood Haiqing’s conflict and unease, but he did not think this was something Haiqing needed to torment himself over so badly.
“Yes, but it’s almost over.” He said it calmly, as though there were nothing wrong with two relationships overlapping.
“What do you mean, almost over?” Haiqing did not understand. Could a relationship be “almost over”? In his mind, there were only things that had not started yet, things that were ongoing, and things that had ended.
Haiqing’s eyes and question confirmed Yan Fei’s guess.
“We’re in the process of breaking up. I’ve brought it up many times, but he won’t agree.”
“Why do you want to break up?” Haiqing’s face grew tense, his emotions churning at Yan Fei’s words.
“We aren’t happy together anymore.”
“If you’re unhappy, you just break up?” Or was it enough for only one person to want the breakup? Haiqing did not say the second question aloud, but his melancholy eyes said plenty.
“It’s not exactly like that… You know, when two people are together, once the happiness is gone, everything starts getting difficult.” Yan Fei sighed. Explaining this part was genuinely troublesome for him.
“When I first got together with him, I never planned for us to live together, but he insisted on moving in. Being together with someone and living together with someone… you wouldn’t understand what I mean.”
Some of his words reached Haiqing’s heart, while others did not. Haiqing silently chewed over what Yan Fei meant and tried to understand it. Images of his own life with Pinjun kept weaving through his thoughts, beautiful memories mixed with unpleasant ones and even dark ones. Pinjun had shared his darkest and most helpless moments with Haiqing. Haiqing believed that was proof of love. Wasn’t loving someone deeply enough exactly what made it possible to accept all of that?
Haiqing could say with certainty that he loved Pinjun.
But what about Yan Fei?
After the initial rush of passion, Haiqing seemed to have rarely been truly happy. The search for him had hit wall after wall, to the point that Haiqing had even begun questioning his own motives and feelings, unable to understand why he was so obsessed. To Xiao K, all of it made him look like a fool. After they met again, there had been surprise and awkwardness, along with a great deal of guilt. Yan Fei unquestionably attracted him, but by Yan Fei’s definition, was Haiqing actually happy? And did this truly count as love? Haiqing found himself sinking into a mire he could not reason his way out of.
“Does it only count as love if you’re happy?” Haiqing could not help asking.
“If you’re unhappy, would you still want to see me?” Yan Fei gave a bitter smile. “I think that if two people are together and they’re unhappy, then there’s no point in it. That’s why I want to break up. Life is already hard enough. There’s no need to make it even harder on yourself.”
Haiqing stared at him. The words still made no sense to him. Was being unhappy really not allowed?
Yan Fei saw Haiqing’s expression grow more and more serious and knew Haiqing was taking his words too heavily, so he gave him a small, reassuring smile and took his hand.
“I’ll solve my problem. As long as you’re ready, I won’t let you be wronged.”
After saying that, Yan Fei leaned down and kissed him again, but Haiqing felt a chill in his heart.
What is this? He tells me nothing, just says, “You wouldn’t understand,” and “I’ll solve my problem,” while refusing to take a real position and throwing all the decision-making onto the other person. How is that supposed to keep anyone from being hurt?
Haiqing felt miserable, but his body still responded. The confusion and struggle inside him intensified. He reached out and grabbed Yan Fei’s shirt, meaning to push him away, but to Yan Fei it felt like an invitation. Yan Fei grew more unrestrained in his caresses, while Haiqing’s legs and body opened beneath him to receive Yan Fei’s affection.
Things were getting dangerously heated. Just as Yan Fei was about to pull Haiqing’s clothes down past his shoulders, Haiqing abruptly shoved him away and stared at the front of the car in shock, panting, his expression thick with fear.
A figure had appeared out of nowhere in front of the car. The dim streetlight and the harsh glare of the headlights made his face look unnervingly strange, but what froze Haiqing in place was the expression on that face, as though the end of the world were right before him.