The next day, though they had only just returned to Bei City, Lu Congzhi and Wen Rui boarded a train bound for Guang City, where they would transfer to another train for Meizhou. Yu Binbin was heading in the same direction, so they bought their tickets together and ended up in the same sleeper compartment.
After boarding, they stowed their various bags and were about to decide who would take the lower and middle bunks when a familiar figure appeared in the corridor. It was Song Xiuzhu.
Yu Binbin cursed his rotten luck inwardly and asked, “You’re in this compartment too?”
Song Xiuzhu’s lips curved into a faint smile. “What a coincidence.”
It was no coincidence. He had seen Yu Binbin going to the railway station to buy tickets and secretly followed him. Yu Binbin was careless and never once looked behind him while queuing, while Song Xiuzhu wore a baseball cap and mask as a disguise, so nobody noticed.
They bought their tickets one after the other, on the same train and both in sleeper accommodation, which naturally put them in the same compartment.
Song Xiuzhu’s goal was to get close to Wen Rui.
Whenever the director spoke with Song Xiuzhu on the phone, she would ask, “How are things with you and Wen Rui? I had your fortune told, and he’s your benefactor. You must stay on good terms with him.”
Song Xiuzhu scoffed at such feudal superstitions. Yet he knew the director wasn’t wrong. Given Wen Rui’s identity and family background, he could be anyone’s benefactor.
He had also told the director about Wen Rui’s confession of love. He found the whole thing shocking and revolting, but the director had been beside herself with delight.
She had babbled almost obsessively, “Our little Bamboo is finally going to leap over the Dragon Gate! You were adorable as a child, and you’ve grown up handsome, kind, and brilliant. How could Wen Rui not fall for you? Little Bamboo, once you’re with Wen Rui, you’ll have everything you could ever want. Bring Wen Rui home to have dinner with Mom one day, and Mom will help make things official between you.”
Overwhelmed by her eagerness, Song Xiuzhu had complained, “Mom, you know gay people disgust me!”
The director had immediately lost her temper. “Disgusting? Song Xiuzhu, who do you think you are? What status do you have? What family background? What right have you to find anything disgusting? If your father hadn’t died, your starting point in life would have been no lower than Wen Rui’s. But now you’ve got nothing. You’re at the very bottom of society, and you have to climb. There’s a ladder straight to the heavens before your eyes, and he can take you all the way to the top. Other people spend their entire lives wishing for an opportunity like that! And you have the nerve to call it disgusting? If you were standing in front of me, I’d slap some sense into you!”
Song Xiuzhu had been speechless for a long time. He felt deeply humiliated, yet he knew the director was right.
The director gave her next order in an icy voice. “You think coming first in the college entrance exam makes you special? In a little place like Meizhou, you’re a dragon among men. But in Bei City, where even the pond seems to reach the heavens, you’re nothing but an insignificant shrimp! You must bring Wen Rui home to meet me as your boyfriend. Otherwise, I’ll cut off your financial support!”
After a long silence, Song Xiuzhu could only agree. The director seemed desperate to gain control over Wen Rui, but she had no direct access to him. Song Xiuzhu was her route in.
Song Xiuzhu needed the director’s financial support badly and had no power to refuse. So he inserted himself into their compartment, hoping the two-night, one-day journey would allow him to tie Wen Rui’s heart to his own again.
He lifted his suitcase toward the luggage rack, but it was so heavy that he dropped it halfway up.
“Class monitor, could you help me put my suitcase up? I can’t lift it.” He turned a troubled look on Wen Rui.
Wen Rui had a strong sense of duty. If Song Xiuzhu had called him by name, he might have ignored him. But with so many people passing along the corridor, Song Xiuzhu had called him “class monitor,” and he couldn’t very well refuse to help.
After all, a class monitor was supposed to set an example.
He came over, hoisted the suitcase in one motion, and easily slid it onto the luggage rack. Then he carefully adjusted its position, since a badly placed suitcase might fall on someone walking past.
Yu Binbin clicked his tongue. If Brother Lu couldn’t stand someone, neither could he, and he certainly wasn’t going to help! Call him class monitor, call him Dad, it wouldn’t make a difference!
After securing the suitcase, Wen Rui glanced back at Lu Congzhi. Lu Congzhi was fiddling with a packet of wet wipes and hadn’t so much as looked his way.
Wen Rui’s heart relaxed, then tightened again. He felt anxious, and a little disappointed.
Song Xiuzhu gently tugged his sleeve and smiled. “Thank you. I’ve packed so much in that suitcase, it’s really heavy. You’re so strong. I may have to trouble you again when we get off.”
Wen Rui said nothing and silently sat down beside Lu Congzhi.
Lu Congzhi abruptly tossed the packet of wet wipes into his lap. “Wen Rui, can you help me open this seal? I can’t tear it.”
Wen Rui immediately pulled off the adhesive sealing strip.
Lu Congzhi narrowed his long eyes, apparently smiling. “Thanks. You’re so strong. Once I finish this packet, I might need your help with the next one too.”
Wen Rui finally understood. Lu Congzhi was imitating Song Xiuzhu. Every one of those odd remarks was a jab at Song Xiuzhu for feigning helplessness and at him for being such an indiscriminate do-gooder.
He was momentarily stunned. His earlier anxiety and disappointment had somehow turned into complete satisfaction. Who knew Lu Congzhi could be so amusing when he was jealous?
The sweetness was enough to make Yu Binbin’s teeth ache. He covered half his face and grimaced.
Song Xiuzhu pretended not to understand and busied himself arranging his belongings.
Lu Congzhi took out a packet of dried little fish and frowned. “Wen Rui, can you open this packet for me? I can’t tear it.”
Wen Rui took the packet and ripped it open.
Lu Congzhi praised him. “You’re so strong! Once I’ve finished this packet, I might need your help with the next one too. From now on, I’ll leave all my package-opening projects to you.”
Wen Rui: “…”
Yu Binbin turned his head away, his shoulders shaking as he struggled desperately not to laugh.
Wen Rui wiped his hands with a wet tissue, picked out a small dried fish, and popped it into Lu Congzhi’s sharp-tongued mouth. Then he leaned toward his ear and whispered helplessly, “Stop making fun of me. I’ll try to keep my distance from Song Xiuzhu from now on, all right?”
“Why would I make fun of you? I’m just warning you that Song Xiuzhu is no good! Get too close and he’ll cheat you out of everything you own.” Having made his point, Lu Congzhi bumped Wen Rui away with his shoulder.
Only then did Wen Rui smile with relief and pass the dried fish to Yu Binbin. “Binbin, have some.”
Yu Binbin sat opposite them and began snacking on the dried fish.
Lu Congzhi opened a plastic bag, took out three pairs of disposable slippers, and announced, “Everyone, change into these. You’ll be more comfortable.”
Yu Binbin waved a hand. “Just leave mine there for now. I’ll put them on after I finish eating.”
Wen Rui bent down to change his shoes.
Lu Congzhi kicked off his own leather shoes, then abruptly raised one black-socked foot toward the tip of Wen Rui’s nose, a wicked smile at the corner of his mouth.
Wen Rui tilted his head away, then remembered the older man they’d encountered on their last train ride and let out a low laugh.
Lu Congzhi teased, “No need for a gas mask this time.”
Wen Rui raised a hand and covered Lu Congzhi’s mouth and nose with his palm. Lu Congzhi didn’t dodge. Instead, he cradled the hand and took several deep breaths against it.
They both burst out laughing at the same time.
Song Xiuzhu sat in the corridor seat and quietly watched their horseplay. An atmosphere seemed to surround them that nobody else could enter. Every word they spoke and everything they did contained secrets and amusement known only to the two of them.
Wen Rui was someone whose emotions rarely showed. When they had first met, he’d displayed confusion and fear, but later he’d buried those feelings deep, because he knew himself to be a monster the ordinary world would never accept.
Yet the Wen Rui before him now laughed, grew nervous, and blushed with embarrassment, no different from the ordinary people around him. Had Lu Congzhi brought about this change?
Why couldn’t he have any influence on Wen Rui at all?
Song Xiuzhu’s fingers dug into the tabletop, his heart in turmoil.
The train slowly began to move. The two upper bunks were empty; perhaps their occupants would board at the next station. Lu Congzhi relaxed further, stood up, unzipped his backpack, and instructed, “Wen Rui, let’s change the bedding.”
Wen Rui arranged his own leather shoes and Lu Congzhi’s neatly together, straightened up, and agreed.
Lu Congzhi took out three sets of freshly washed bedding. Something occurred to him, and he suddenly laughed. “Wen Rui, I’ll teach you a new way to put on a duvet cover. It’s really easy. You can do it in under twenty seconds.”
“Twenty seconds? That fast?”
Putting on a duvet cover was the most troublesome part of changing bedding, so Wen Rui was skeptical.
“Stand up straight,” Lu Congzhi ordered.
Wen Rui straightened.
Lu Congzhi turned a duvet cover inside out and pulled it over Wen Rui’s head. Wen Rui looked utterly puzzled but didn’t try to dodge, allowing the thin fabric to envelop him completely. Through it, he heard Lu Congzhi laughing.
Was this some kind of prank? Wen Rui smiled too, without the slightest resistance. Lu Congzhi teased him in ways he teased nobody else. That was special treatment.
Lu Congzhi grasped the top two corners of the duvet insert and pushed them into Wen Rui’s hands. “Hold tight.”
Wen Rui held on.
Lu Congzhi flipped the cover upward over the duvet. In less than twenty seconds, Wen Rui was holding a fully covered duvet. One gentle shake and it lay perfectly smooth.
Yu Binbin applauded enthusiastically. “Wow, impressive! Brother Lu is a domestic genius!”
Wen Rui folded the duvet, set it at the foot of the bunk, voluntarily stood upright again, and said, “Next.”
Lu Congzhi dropped another duvet cover over him. This time, instead of handing him the insert, he shoved him onto the bunk opposite and vigorously rubbed his head with both hands, laughing. “Wen Rui, did you know this is how you put a sack over someone’s head too?”
Wen Rui: “…”
He’d known it. Lu Congzhi simply couldn’t get through a day without playing a prank on him.
The duvet cover had been washed very clean, carrying a faint scent of lily of the valley. Lu Congzhi’s hands tousled his hair, two joined fingers poked his chest and back, and a palm gave his bottom a light smack.
Wen Rui’s smile was easy and delighted, yet held a touch of bittersweet helplessness. This kind of roughhousing belonged to friends. What he truly wanted, however, went far beyond that.
Yu Binbin rushed over to join in with a flurry of punches, but Wen Rui caught his wrist with unerring precision, making him howl in pain.
“Class monitor, let go! You’re crushing my bones!”
Wen Rui released Yu Binbin, tightened his embrace around Lu Congzhi, who was straddling him, and swiftly flipped the duvet cover with his other hand. He freed himself and trapped Lu Congzhi inside instead.
Lu Congzhi struggled and begged for mercy, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Wen Rui closed both arms around him. He didn’t rub or smack him. He simply held him, very tightly.
Lu Congzhi soon wore himself out and begged pitifully for mercy.
In just a few minutes, both men were sprawled helplessly across the bunk, and the air seemed full of happiness.
Sitting in the corridor as an onlooker, Song Xiuzhu felt a hollow place being eaten away inside him. He wanted friendship, love, and family affection too. Why did every version of those things he obtained come to him twisted and deformed?
After resting for a while, the two men finished changing the remaining bedding and sat in the now spotless, freshly made compartment.
Wen Rui took out a book and reclined on the lower bunk to read. He deliberately turned onto his side to leave plenty of room, knowing that a bored Lu Congzhi would inevitably come over to read with him.
Sure enough, a warm body soon pressed into his arms, and Lu Congzhi naturally settled his head on Wen Rui’s shoulder.
“What are you reading? Let me see.”
Wen Rui showed nothing outwardly, but flecks of pleasure glimmered in his eyes.
“Hannibal,” Lu Congzhi read out slowly, then commented, “That’s a pretty intense story.”
Without smartphones, long train journeys were terribly boring. Reading a novel with Wen Rui was one way to pass the time.
Suddenly remembering a joke from his previous life, he leaned close to Wen Rui’s ear and whispered, “Tell me, what’s the most important thing about being a person?”
Wen Rui considered the question seriously, then turned toward him. “Sincerity?”
Lu Congzhi adopted an air of profound wisdom. “Wrong. What matters most is getting the heat just right.”
Elio’s Notes: Huohou (火候) means the heat or timing needed when cooking, but it can also mean knowing the right moment or degree. Lu takes it literally here because they’re reading Hannibal.
Wen Rui frowned in confusion.
With a long, slender finger, Lu Congzhi lightly tapped a passage in the book describing Hannibal preparing ingredients.
Wen Rui understood immediately. Sunlight caught his handsome face as he laughed softly. With no one else did he ever experience this vivid feeling of his heart racing one moment and slowing the next.