CH 37

Chapter 37: An Imitation Life

Song Yu didn’t respond to him, just like usual.

Most of the time, Yue Zhishi didn’t need a response. He had been like that since he was young, always able to openly divulge his affection for gege at any time, any place, and never feeling that it was inappropriate to express his feelings.

But the current him had slightly changed — sometimes he hoped gege would be able to give him a bit of a response, even if the response was a decisive rejection like when they were children, telling him, “I don’t like it when you say stuff like that. Don’t do it again.”

If Song Yu didn’t say a single thing, then Yue Zhishi would want to guess. But he didn’t like guessing.

He didn’t get an allergic reaction, but he still decided to take an antihistamine just in case. That night, Yue Zhishi found it hard to sleep, tossing and turning until about 2am in the morning before finally falling asleep.

He had a very strange dream. He initially lay on a very beautiful meadow, the sky very heavy and clouds very puffy. He reached out a hand, and one dark cloud dropped to press onto his body without leaving any room for him to move. Yue Zhishi immediately had no way to breathe. He tried to break free, and the cloud gathered together and turned into a human figure — a tall male figure without a face, and yet it felt very familiar.

The cloud wrapped very tightly around him, almost completely airtight, and the sexually intimate-like embrace suffocated him. That sense of impending death felt just like an allergic attack, pressing and constricting all of his nerves. But the strange thing was — in the midst of this struggle for air, he was compelled to feel something wondrous.

At the end, the cloud in his dream turned into a pool of hot rainwater without any warning and drenched him completely. At 5am in the morning, Yue Zhishi was shocked awake from his dream.

In the many days after, Yue Zhishi kept trying to further understand his feelings through online searches. He didn’t want to keep being caged in between ignorant curiosity and fear, so he read many articles, performed many tests and even watched many movies by himself. Most of them were art films, created very beautifully and were very emotionally affecting — but Yue Zhishi fell heavier into doubt the more he watched.

He looked at photos of many highly attractive men without much feeling. He did tests set by set and didn’t get any clear results: not every test gave him the same result.

All of this left Yue Zhishi at a loss.

His bewilderment showed quite clearly as he was often lost in thought, frowning. When he watched television dramas with Lin Rong, he’d either stare blankly at the scenes with the male and female leads acting against each other or show a very serious, probing expression as he watched, as if he really needed someone to give him an answer. So on a certain day later, as the entire family spent a day outside, Song Yu looked at Yue Zhishi, who was staring blankly at a field of lotus flowers, and said, “Do you remember your fortune stick?”

Yue Zhishi looked at him a bit absently, his arms carrying a peaceful Cotton Candy.

“Let nature run its course,” Song Yu said.

He vaguely felt Song Yu understood and knew why he was feeling so lost. And he’d always relied on Song Yu, never once erecting any barriers between them.

“I don’t want to be different from other people.” Yue Zhishi very honestly revealed his thoughts to Song Yu, his hand lightly caressing Cotton Candy’s furry head. “It’ll be really weird.”

“Why?”

Cotton Candy sneaked out and away to Lin Rong’s call.

Yue Zhishi sat on the grass next to the lake, grabbed a full lotus pod and started picking out a few tender lotus seeds. “People have always given me special attention since I looked different from everyone else when I was young. I don’t want to stand out too much now that I’m older.” He broke off the green shell around a seed, revealing the white and delicate lotus nut inside, and gave it to Song Yu.

Song Yu took it but didn’t eat it. He silently felt it was natural for Yue Zhishi to be worried since he was about to start high school and needed to face a new and different social circle. The two of them sat next to each other. It was the end of June, right as the lotus flowers were starting to bloom. The wind blew the lotus leaves until they flipped upside down and covered the newly born, very unsteady flower buds. Song Yu said, in a low voice, “Do you know what the most contradictory thing about humans is?”

Yue Zhishi shook his head, eyes focused on the side of his face.

“In order to avoid getting hurt, we imitate and copy the way other people live until we’ve changed ourselves to be like them, until we’ve merged into society. This is instinctual for humans to survive in a social setting. Just like the mimicry you see in nature — in order to protect themselves, animals have evolved to fuse with their environments. It’s safer that way.”

“Mn.”

“But humans are much more complicated compared to animals.” Song Yu stared out at the lake in the distance. “Sometimes, we carry a certain kind of hope. We think we’re not the same as other people, and occasionally, we even want to be a bit more special — we don’t want to be part of the ordinary and unremarkable majority. So we all fall into an inner struggle with ourselves, struggling to understand the contradiction. And in order to remove the contradiction, we need to give up ourselves.”

He looked at Yue Zhishi as he spoke. “If you’d rather be part of the multitude of people, then you will need to give up the part of you that’s unwilling to be mediocre.”

Yue Zhishi was also looking at him, his light-coloured pupils very clear. Under the swaying rays of sunlight, even his dark brown eyelashes were semi-transparent.

The kind of hesitation that came from deliberation lay deeply in his eyes.

Having finished what he needed to say, Song Yu turned his face away. Song Jin called him from behind, asking him to get new fish bait. Song Yu responded and stood up.

He’d taken only two steps when Yue Zhishi couldn’t help but turn around and call out to him.

“Then how do you think I should choose?”

Behind him, a single flower bud swayed uneasily in the warm breeze.

Song Yu stopped walking and turned his body halfway. “You need to choose for yourself. I can’t give you any helpful suggestions. Because to me, you don’t have a choice.”

Yue Zhishi frowned in doubt.

“You were special from the moment you were born.” Song Yu raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you?”

The wind by the lake blew away the wildly growing flowers and plants and also blew away the fog lingering around the wetland park. The round leaves fluttered as they covered the entire surface of the lake, separating and then coming back together, and the pond of lotus flowers changed from scattered little flower buds to flower petals blossomed across the entire lake. The height of summer arrived at the end of August, and everything became bright and luminous.

The news of the college entrance examination score release had already entered the hot searches, and even people who hadn’t participated were very nervous. Only Song Yu remained calm and composed, and when he went to check his score, he even looked like he was checking it for someone else, his entire person acting as if this matter had nothing to do with him. It was Yue Zhishi, pulling and pushing, who was anxious on his behalf.

His score was as calm as his person. Even his class adviser called and congratulated him, saying he’ll have no problem getting into Tsinghua and giving him many suggestions on where to register for university. After finishing his phone call, the school headmasters called. Song Yu was later too lazy to deal with them and gave them all to Lin Rong, pretending to be ill.

Yue Zhishi was one hundred times more overjoyed compared to Song Yu. He was more excited than when he found out his own score was enough to enter Peiya’s advanced class stream. He immediately sent a message to Jiang Yufan to brag, even saying his ge only lost two points in math and stressing the news twice.

Song Jin rushed home from his company after learning his son tested well. He said they needed to celebrate, but knowing Song Yu didn’t like to publicise his personal matters, he temporarily didn’t invite guests to a grand celebration. After discussing it with Lin Rong, they decided to throw a private celebration before Song Yu registered for university.

“These are all dishes you guys like, hurry and eat up.” Lin Rong placed a bottle of red wine on top of some ice. “Since we’re celebrating today, we can drink a little bit. Le Le can’t, though.”

Yue Zhishi didn’t mind. “That’s okay, I like Sprite.”

Song Jin stood next to the table, cutting grilled lamb chops while he asked Song Yu, “Didn’t you already choose a school earlier? You’ve kept it to yourself for so long, isn’t it about time you told us?”

More than anyone else, Yue Zhishi cared about Song Yu’s answer. He thought about what Xia Zhixu said a while ago, that they were going to study in Beijing — he wanted to know if Song Yu would also be going to such a faraway place.

If even his class adviser and high school director were urging him, then Song Yu should be going, right?

Lin Rong brought out three wine glasses and started to joke, “If you really are going to Tsinghua or Peking, then we definitely need to invite everyone for dinner. Even though I don’t really want to see sister-in-law and the rest of the family, we still have to follow the rules and invite friends and family…”

“I’m not going to Beijing.” Song Yu sat on his chair and was very calm. “I want to register for Wuhan University.”

“Your score…”

“There is no such thing as a score that requires you to go a particular university, only the field you want to go into and the university you want to attend.”

Song Jin clearly hadn’t expected this at all, his face subtly changing because of this unexpected news before he once again displayed his usual understanding. “That’s fine, as long as you’ve already decided.”

“Wuhan University is also good.” Lin Rong’s mindset changed very quickly. Tsinghua or Peking would be always be the secret first choice for every parent, but she was also very happy to learn her son was willing to stay in his home city. Plus, Lin Rong knew Song Yu’s personality — before he announced his choice, he would’ve already gone and planned everything out. She didn’t want to show too much opposition, so she tried to ease the situation by saying, “Wuhan U’s close to home, you can come back whenever you want. I think that’s a good choice.”

Yue Zhishi was secretly very happy, but even he knew how to tailor his behaviour to other people’s reactions. He didn’t say much.

“Then have you already thought about what you want to study?” Song Jin asked.

“Geomatics,” Song Yu replied. “I’ve already learned a lot about it over the summer vacation. I’ve learned the foundations, and even took the chance to get familiar with some of the relevant software knowledge. It’ll be easier for me later after enrolment.” He looked at Song Jin and added, “Wuhan University is the best in this field. Not only is the university ranked number one for this discipline, even their academic resources and the depth of their research are the best. I’ve also considered my academic research plans for the future.”

Song Yu had matured much earlier compared to his peers. As his parents, they’d long known this, but Song Jin was still slightly surprised — he never expected Song Yu to have planned out his future so far ahead.

And he never even thought that Song Yu would want to study this field.

For a moment, Song Jin couldn’t quite control his facial expressions, and Yue Zhishi noticed it from the corner of his eye.

“It doesn’t matter, that’s all in the future. All that matters is our son’s good score.” Lin Rong urged Song Jin to sit down. “Let’s just celebrate first.”

As he ate, Yue Zhishi asked Song Yu many questions, like what was geomatics, what did it teach, what could he do after graduating. Song Yu gave each of his questions a succinct answer, leaving him with a basic understanding of what geomatics was.

“No wonder.” Yue Zhishi abruptly caught Song Yu’s wrist. “The drawing you gave me last time.”

Song Yu pulled his hand away. “Hurry and eat.”

“What drawing?” Lin Rong chimed in to tease, “You two have more and more little secrets.”

“Not at all, I tell you everything.”

“I don’t believe you. Then tell me if there’s a girl you like.”

Yue Zhishi dryly laughed. “I really don’t.”

Even Song Jin laughed. “How could a mom be like you, every day trying to gossip with your child to find out if they’re dating.”

“But that’s completely normal, if he tells me then I can give him hints or ideas.”

Song Yu gave Lin Rong a piece of beef. “You should eat.”

“Xiao Yu can’t stand me again!”

“……”

After dinner, Yue Zhishi and Song Yu gave Cotton Candy a shower. When the Pomeranian was dry, he was as woolly and fluffy as a cloud, but once he was soaked in water, his entire body would shrink by half. Cotton Candy didn’t like showering and kept trying to run away, so they needed to have one person hold onto him while the other washed him.

Yue Zhishi was more than half-drenched by the time they finished cleaning him halfway. Song Jin appeared in front of the downstairs bathroom door and mildly said, “Song Yu, come out with me.”

After Song Yu was called away, only Yue Zhishi and Cotton Candy were left in the bathroom. Both of them were wet, and both of them were also very nervous.

But Song Yu wasn’t nervous. He’d already expected his father would call him out for a talk and wasn’t surprised. Song Jin held a basketball as they went down and brought his son to the neighbourhood’s basketball court.

The two of them played carelessly, one on defence and the other on attack, and would switch roles after landing a basket. Song Yu would always remember — it was Song Jin who’d taught him how to play basketball when he was a child, telling him this sport not only needed explosive power, it also needed patience and persistence.

“It’s been too long since we played together.” Song Jin stood in the middle of the court. He took a shot, and the ball flew in a parabolic curve until it hit the rim and fell into the net, bouncing on the ground. He shook his head, two hands resting on his hips. “I’m too old now, my body can’t keep up with yours.”

Song Yu picked the ball back up and went to the vending machine on the side of the court, buying two bottles of sports drink before giving one to his father. The two of them sat down to rest. Facing the empty basketball court, Song Jin released a sigh. “I still remember when we used to play here together. We’d face off against each other, with you on defence but still really wanting to win. You wanted to steal my ball, but you ended up hitting the ball out in a rush and smacking your brother’s head.”

Song Jin laughed out loud as he thought of that memory. “Le Le was so dazed, his butt plonked directly on the ground. He didn’t get up for such a long time, and yet he didn’t cry. He only stared blankly at the ball on the ground.”

He looked at Song Yu. “You must’ve also been very scared at that time.”

Song Yu stayed silent as if in unspoken admission. His memory of that time was already blurry and indistinct, but he could still remember how nervous he was — and because he had been so nervous, he couldn’t remember how Yue Zhishi reacted.

“But he didn’t really mind. You ran over to him, and he babbled something, maybe for you to carry him — if you didn’t pick him up, then he wouldn’t get up.” Song Jin smiled. “Le Le’s personality is truly so similar to his dad. He’ll definitely be like your Uncle Yue after he grows up. He may look like he doesn’t understand anything like a child, but for many things, he’s already well aware of what he should do. He just isn’t willing to think too much about them.”

Song Yu knew what his father was saying was correct. But unconsciously, he’d always considered Yue Zhishi as a child even though he clearly already knew Yue Zhishi was grown up. He’d even occasionally looked at him like someone he needed to protect, as if he could gain some sort of pleasure from it — when in reality, he only gained an ever-increasing burden.

“Tell me your thoughts.” Song Jin knocked his sports drink against the one in Song Yu’s hand. “Why do you want to study geomatics? It sounds like it should be related to your Uncle Yue.”

Song Yu gazed steadily at his father, realising he actually already understood everything.

“I feel like Yue Zhishi’s really similar to you too,” Song Yu suddenly said.

Song Jin knew he wasn’t trying to change the conversation. He laughed, “He’s also really similar to your mom. After all, he is a child we raised. But as for you, it’s like you grew up by yourself and don’t really need us.”

Song Yu shook his head, denying his father’s words. “I really need you guys. Every single one of you.” It was rare for him to be so honest, but even then it was only just to this point.

There was a sudden gust of wind, and the shadows from the surrounding trees rocked in response as the summer cicadas screamed. Song Jin said, “I know you’ve liked geography since you were a child. Maybe it has to do with your Uncle Yue as well. I was too busy running my business, so Yue Yi brought you to many places, climbing mountains and viewing oceans.”

He held onto Song Yu’s shoulder as he spoke. “When I think about it, my son’s actually really amazing. You followed him at such a young age and ran around the country to so many different places. You must’ve seen landscapes even many adults haven’t seen.”

In the family, Song Yu was actually the person most unwilling to bring up Yue Yi. To him, Yue Yi was another father figure who’d taken him to see a different world as he emerged from his infancy years.

He would always remember Yue Yi standing at the peak of the mountain, shouting out to the surrounding mist and clouds — shouting that he hoped every single person by his side would be blessed with happiness.

That he hoped his future child would also be blessed.

Song Jin laughed as he said, “Sometimes I would wonder, how would he be like if he was still alive? He was such a chatty person, such a good person. If Le Le had grown up under their care, would he be in better shape than he is now?” He paused, and then continued. “So your mom and I, we really are trying our best to raise him. We always feel that Yue Yi guy is looking at us from the heavens.”

He looked towards Song Yu. “Just think about how well he treated you when you were a child. If he was still here, just how dearly would he love Le Le?”

Song Yu’s nose started to burn. He was a bit resistant to continuing this conversation further, because it felt like he was falling into a contradictory, difficult choice. On the one hand, he was well aware that if this premise was real, Yue Zhishi would definitely be happier. But on the other hand, he couldn’t imagine the existence of a Yue Zhishi in this world who didn’t grow up together with him, a Yue Zhishi who was completely independent from his own life.

It was truly scary, Song Yu thought.

“My heart is a bit resistant to hearing that you want to learn geomatics, and that you even want to continue researching into this area.” Song Jin openly said to him what was on his mind. “You probably guessed it already.”

“You’re afraid it’s not safe.” Song Yu knew he would think this way. After all, no matter how advanced modern technology was, to surveying and mapping workers, it was hard to avoid heading out to the wild. It was very likely they would face and be tested by very dangerous terrain.

Song Jin dipped his head. “You’re probably aware that your Uncle Yue’s accident left me with a little bit of a traumatic experience.”

He spoke too subtly. Song Yu knew it wasn’t just a ‘little bit’.

“It’s not the same,” Song Yu tried to explain. “No matter what, there’s still a long time to when I can head out for work. It’s too early to talk about these things. Besides, it’s different doing it for work or doing it as a hobby. The levels of security arrangements are different.”

Song Jin knew all this and knew things were no longer the same as the past. It was no longer common to head out to the wild.

At the end of the day, it was merely his heart that couldn’t accept it.

He patted Song Yu’s knee, sighing. “Go. Even if I’m worried for you, I’ll still support you.” He gave Song Yu a smile. “But if you could rely on us more in the future, that would be even better.”

Song Yu lowered his eyes and nodded.

Song Jin’s cellphone rang — it was his wife rushing them to come home. He stood up and stretched. “Let’s buy some ice cream for your mom.”

“Sure.”

“That’s right. You probably don’t know, but it was your Uncle Yue that helped your mom and me get together.”

Song Yu actually hadn’t known; no one had mentioned this before. “Really?”

“Your mom had a good background and was beautiful. There were so many people chasing after her.” Song Jin joked, “Although I, your father, also had a beautiful face and a good body, my family background was worse than hers and was even more terrible compared to your Uncle Yue’s. He knew I liked your mom when we were in university, and he knew your mom was also interested in me. I was too embarrassed to chase after her, and Yue Yi kept encouraging us as he ran back and forth between the two of us. It took a lot of effort for us to get together.”

“Without your Uncle Yue, you might not even exist.” Under the street lamps, Song Jin’s smile carried a few measures of nostalgia. His smile gradually faded, and he said some words, full of feeling.

“Our large lucky star’s gone, but he left us a little lucky star. Isn’t that good too?”

Song Yu watched their shadows on the ground, shrinking and lengthening as they weaved through the tree shadows. He nodded.

“Mn.”

After buying some ice cream, Song Jin suddenly needed to take a business phone call before heading up. He gave the convenience store bag to Song Yu and told him to go upstairs first, saying he’ll head up after his call.

So Song Yu opened the door of his home by himself, giving to his mom the ice cream his dad had bought for her and refusing to accept her affectionate attacks. He went up the stairs, but as he passed Yue Zhishi’s room, the door to Yue Zhishi’s room abruptly opened and gave him a scare.

Yue Zhishi stood in the entrance of his room. “Song Yu gege, are you okay?”

Song Yu found his question very random. “Do you need me for something?” He prepared to walk towards his own room, but then Yue Zhishi dragged him into his room and even closed the door.

“What are you doing?” Before Song Yu could figure out what was happening, Yue Zhishi pushed him against the door. One of Yue Zhishi’s hands pressed on his rib cage, and the other held onto the door handle.

“Did Uncle Song just pull you out to scold you?” Yue Zhishi looked into Song Yu’s eyes, his own gaze very certain. “He didn’t seem to be too supportive of you going to Wuhan University.”

“No.”

“If you say he didn’t, then he definitely did.” Yue Zhishi thought he already figured out everything that happened. “What did Uncle Song say? Did he want you to go to Tsinghua?”

He’d heard Lin Rong talk on the phone with a friend of hers earlier as he was blowdrying Cotton Candy. She had also felt it was a pity Song Yu didn’t want to go to Tsinghua.

Everyone said it was fine, he could go anywhere he wanted — but secretly, they all wanted to urge Song Yu to reconsider.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt his thinking was correct. Yue Zhishi released the hand pressing onto Song Yu and pulled open the door, preparing to go downstairs. “Let me talk to Uncle Song for you. I can convince him.”

One leg had just passed the door when Song Yu grabbed and pulled him back. “Come back here.”

Yue Zhishi faced him, and seeing how Song Yu looked a bit helpless, he couldn’t help but ask, “How come your face looks like you want to laugh without being able to?”

He was surprisingly perceptive this time. Song Yu let go of his hand and said, “What do you keep thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about you.”

Song Yu froze for a moment.

Yue Zhishi’s voice was too sincere for Song Yu. “When you said you wanted to study geomatics at dinner, I felt Uncle Song and Aunt Rong weren’t really supportive. If it were me, and I saw everyone giving me reactions like that, I’d definitely be frustrated. Who wouldn’t want other people to approve the path they want to take?”

“So?” Song Yu gazed at him.

He raised his head, eyes firm. “I support you. I support you no matter what. Just then when you were gone, I went and did some research. Wuhan University is the best school for geomatics, and some people even say it’s the best in Asia. Besides, I also know many people don’t know what they want to study after college exams. You’re not like that, you’re already very clear about what you want to do. I’m really happy that you can go to the best, and the most suitable, place to study what you want to study. I don’t want to see you change your mind because of someone else. Because you’re very mature — you know what you want, right?”

Yue Zhishi clasped Song Yu’s hand as he spoke. Even though he didn’t know he’d made a mistake in his reasoning, the heart that rushed to convey its support — Song Yu could feel its heartbeats.

“Gege, I’m always standing on your side.”

In a daze, Song Yu remembered what had happened at the basketball court when he was a child. He finally remembered what Yue Zhishi had actually said to him after being knocked hard enough that he fell onto the ground.

He had been very small, and yet he held back his tears and didn’t cry. He even stretched out his arms and said to him, Xiao Yu gege, you know how to play ball now, you’re so amazing.

Can you pick me up?

The author has something to say:

Big time skip warning (but it’s nothing like having become of age and then getting together immediately, don’t worry, I’ve only written 150,000 characters hhhh)

Song Yu didn’t stay back and choose Wuhan U because of anyone. He has his own desires and has even already considered his future research area. Wuhan U’s geomatics is the strongest in the country (at one point, it was also called Asia’s #1. Everyone can search online how often academicians teach undergraduates. Tsinghua or Peking shouldn’t be chosen just because they’re Tsinghua/Peking — you should focus on what you want to do). He considers everything he does, and earlier when he chose to stay in the country, it was also because he already knew what he wanted to study professionally.

Gege is a very logical, very mature person who does nothing without thinking over it. And besides, not every main character in a story needs to go to Tsinghua or Peking; just like a commenter said, geomatics belong to Wuhan U and dentistry belongs to Sichuan U. There was some news a while ago about a Yunnan college entrance examinee being admitted into one of Peking’s medical specialities, dentistry related, and then wasn’t satisfied after going there for a while. He chose to take the entrance exams again, got 712 points and registered for Sichuan U. It’s the same kind of logic.

And here, to every person preparing for exams and every person who will face the college exams in the future — I wish that you can all go to the school you want and study the field you want to study~ I support you all~