They did it twice in the bathroom. By the second time, Shao Wu was completely exhausted and his consciousness had gone hazy.
He had no idea how Yang Shuyi managed to get him into a hospital gown. All he remembered was sitting limp in the chair when Yang Shuyi finally touched his back. While they were having sex, Yang Shuyi had kept his arms locked around Shao Wu’s waist but had not touched the rest of his body. Now Yang Shuyi pressed a fingertip against his shoulder blade and asked quietly, “Is this a scar?”
“Oh… yeah,” Shao Wu answered groggily. “You don’t remember?”
“What?”
“The first time I went to an internet café with you, we ran into Wang Yujun… my brother… He shoved me into a wall.”
“…”
Shao Wu knew he did not remember.
“There was a nail sticking out of the wall. It jabbed me.” Shao Wu narrowed his eyes and smiled. “I haven’t seen Wang Yujun in years. I wonder if he ever found a boyfriend.”
“…”
Shao Wu touched Yang Shuyi’s face. “Sleep for a while with me.”
“Okay.”
So the two of them lay down together on the hospital bed. The bed in the private room was a little wider than an ordinary hospital bed, and with them pressed tightly together, they fit exactly. Shao Wu lay on his left side while Yang Shuyi lay flat on his back. They were both too tired to say much, and sleep quickly washed over them.
The last thing Shao Wu remembered thinking before he fell asleep was that, as he looked at Yang Shuyi’s profile, this was probably the closest he would ever be to him in this lifetime. So he gently took Yang Shuyi’s hand and closed his eyes.
When he woke again, the sky had turned orange-red with sunset.
The pain from his wound woke him. Shao Wu moved first, and then Yang Shuyi woke too. He looked dazed, staring at Shao Wu for several seconds before his eyes finally came into focus.
“What time is it?”
Shao Wu fished his phone out from beneath the pillow. “Quarter past six.”
Yang Shuyi sat up. “I need to call my supervisor.”
“What’s wrong?”
“They’re still in Aba,” he said flatly. “I have to go back.”
Shao Wu was silent for a few seconds. “You’re leaving now?”
This time it was Yang Shuyi who fell silent. He picked up his shell jacket and felt through it, then went into the bathroom and brought out his jeans. Shao Wu watched him pull his phone from a pocket, press a couple of buttons, then put it away again.
“I got back to Chengdu in a herder’s car,” Yang Shuyi said. “I’m taking his car back tomorrow morning, so tonight… I have to make it to Chengdu.”
“…Oh.” Shao Wu wanted to say, Looks like I caused you trouble, but he could not bring himself to say it.
“Can I borrow your phone to make a call? Mine’s dead.”
“Mm.”
Shao Wu handed him the phone. By then Yang Shuyi had already dressed. He walked to the window and stood with his back to Shao Wu.
Soon he began speaking, using a pronunciation that sounded slightly unfamiliar to Shao Wu. After listening for a few sentences, Shao Wu realized it was the distinctive cadence of Chengdu speech. Unlike the crisp, clipped sound of Chongqing dialect, Chengdu speech was formed with a slightly flatter mouth shape, with certain words and phrases drawn out longer.
Shao Wu wondered whether living in Chengdu had gradually pulled Yang Shuyi’s accent in that direction, or whether he was deliberately imitating his supervisor’s way of speaking. In another few years, would Yang Shuyi’s pronunciation habits change completely? Chengdu speech was so soft. Coming from Yang Shuyi, it really did sound a little strange.
“Shao Wu.” Yang Shuyi came over and handed back the phone.
“Huh?”
Yang Shuyi stood beside the bed looking down at him. His lips moved as though he wanted to say something. Shao Wu thought, Is he about to say goodbye?
But instead Yang Shuyi said, “I accidentally saw your text messages just now.”
Text messages.
“At first I was wondering when I’d ever sent you that many messages.”
Right. The weather service. He had seen that Shao Wu had saved the contact name as “Yang Shuyi.”
How embarrassing. Shao Wu almost wanted to close his eyes so he would not have to look at him, but then he remembered that he probably would not have many chances to look at him in the future and could not bear to close them.
“I changed the name for fun,” Shao Wu said. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“You subscribed to Chengdu weather forecasts.”
“…Mm.” What else could he say?
“Cancel it,” Yang Shuyi said hoarsely. “There’s no need for this.”
Shao Wu obediently agreed. “Okay. I’ll go to the service hall and cancel it in a few days.”
Yang Shuyi said, “You can unsubscribe just by replying to the message.”
Shao Wu looked at him and thought, So this is our unspoken understanding. They both knew that after today, they could no longer be friends. In that case, the more thorough today’s goodbye was, the better. Were they going to settle every last account between them? But could everything between them really be settled?
Clutching the phone, Shao Wu held it out to Yang Shuyi. “You do it.”
Yang Shuyi really did take it. A moment later he handed it back. Almost immediately, the phone buzzed in Shao Wu’s palm with a message from China Mobile: “Hello, you have successfully unsubscribed…” Shao Wu quickly backed out of the message, unable to bear looking at it.
It was hard to imagine that only a few hours earlier they had been pressed together kissing, doing the most intimate thing two people could do.
Unfortunately, that intimacy had only proved one thing: in this lifetime, this was as far as they would go.
Yang Shuyi had already put on his shell jacket. Behind him was one of Yongchuan’s rare sunsets, and for a moment Shao Wu almost had the illusion that Yang Shuyi was merely going out to buy dinner, that in a little while he would return carrying two boxes of stir-fry. Then they would eat together, just as they had in high school.
Shao Wu said, “When you get married, remember to invite me.”
“…Okay.”
“I mean it.” He smiled at Yang Shuyi. “At the very least, we’re old classmates, right? Don’t worry. I’ve already… already given up.”
Yang Shuyi looked at him in silence, his gaze heavy and full of disbelief.
“I really have given up. Right now. I’m giving up.”
“I’m sorry.” This was the third time Yang Shuyi had apologized to him.
“It’s okay.” This time Shao Wu accepted the apology. “Yang Shuyi, let me ask you one last question.”
“What?”
“A lot of girls like you, don’t they? Are you like this with them too, or… only with me?”
“…Only with you.”
“Okay,” Shao Wu said. “Goodbye.”
Yang Shuyi stepped back and said softly, “Goodbye.”
Then he turned and strode quickly out of the hospital room.
To Shao Wu’s surprise, he was unexpectedly calm.
Just as he had expected, they could never be friends again. At the same time, however, he could now be certain that he mattered in Yang Shuyi’s life, or rather, that he was special. Yang Shuyi was a filial grandson, a dependable older brother, and someday he would also be a gentle husband. He treated his family and lovers well, and even treated kindly those girls who liked him though he was destined never to return their feelings. He was so good that it almost seemed impossible. How could a boy who had walked through hell at seventeen have survived with such stubborn strength?
Shao Wu knew he was the only person who had ever touched the reverse side of Yang Shuyi. It was a bottomless darkness brought back from hell, the adulthood forced upon him overnight, the guilt imposed by an uncaring heaven and earth, all of it: Yang Shuyi’s selfishness, coldness, and violence.
But that was also precisely what proved Shao Wu was special to him, wasn’t it? He was the only person in the world who knew Yang Shuyi’s selfishness, coldness, and violence. Together they had thrust their hands into that bottomless darkness and then pulled them back out dripping with blood. Because it hurt so much, it had cut so deeply. They both understood without saying it. They would never forget.
Never forget.
Two days later, Shao Wu’s parents arrived at the hospital. He knew he could no longer hide it. In the same hospital room, he knelt before them for the first time, not to ask forgiveness, only to apologize.
“Dad, Mom,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m gay.”
End of Volume Four