CH 85

Chapter 85: Romantic Direction

After hearing Yue Zhishi’s words, for a moment, Song Yu thought he was the luckiest person in the world.

The best child in the world had arrived to his side, had become his lover and had given all of himself to him.

There was nothing else worth regretting.

“What do you think?” Yue Zhishi rubbed the back of his neck, not quite daring to look at Song Yu’s face after saying so much. “I only just managed to hold back from telling you. Ah, that’s right,” he caught Song Yu’s sleeve and rolled up the cuff of the inner shirt for him to see, “I stitched this.”

It was a row of numbers, and at first glance, it looked like a row of cold and indifferent binary numerals.

11011010

He revealed a very adorable smile and said to Song Yu in a very quiet voice, “Our birthdays.”

“This could be considered as one of your birthday gifts. Out of all the outfits, I made only this shirt by hand.” He said to Song Yu, “Xiao Qi taught me, and it took me a long time to finish it. It’s for you.”

“Then why were you prepared to let someone else wear it?” Song Yu made things difficult for him on purpose. “The shirt’s first time wasn’t even left to me.”

“It’s not like that.” Yue Zhishi held his arm. “Chen Yu wasn’t wearing this one…”

“There’s another one, and that one doesn’t have our birthday numbers on it. That one’s not made by hand. It’s in a box in the changing room, I put it there after Chen Yu took it off. I grabbed this one from my bag — it was meant to be for you.”

Seeing him explain so docilely, Song Yu lifted a hand; he wanted to stroke Yue Zhishi’s face, but with so many people around, he could only ruffle his hair.

He was very clear: Yue Zhishi, at nineteen years old, was already very mature and could calmly handle any problems. Even if he hadn’t appeared today, it wasn’t as if Yue Zhishi wouldn’t be able to complete this fashion show; he would’ve had many, many ideas.

But when he remembered how Yue Zhishi had looked when struggling to hold back his surprise, when he saw these deeply hidden little heartfelt thoughts, Song Yu felt Yue Zhishi was still the same as when he’d been three years old, when he’d been six years old. In expressing his love, he was forever a pure and simple child, never asking for anything in return.

As they walked towards the changing room, Song Yu had his head down, examining the cuff. The numbers had been stitched neatly and carefully, and the remnants of the traced stitching pattern could still be seen. He unexpectedly discovered a dark blue embroidered decoration to the side of numbers — it looked like a set of Libra scales. There was a scorpion in its left scale, and a love heart in its right.

In the past, Song Yu would always sink into a kind of pessimistic anticipation that was very much out of character for himself, thinking that perhaps what Yue Zhishi felt for him was something similar to a nestling who had no way of parting with its childhood companion. He’d thought Yue Zhishi would one day understand what love was, leave him and then run towards the person who had actually stirred his heart.

But now, Song Yu understood — from the beginning to the end, it had simply been himself who had been too arrogant, too conceited.

The person he liked was a natural born romantic.

No one knew how to love someone better than Yue Zhishi did.

“Do you like it?” Yue Zhishi hoped to get a single word of praise, and so he slightly exaggerated as he told Song Yu just how long it’d taken him to make the shirt, just how hard it had been to use the sewing machine.

“I failed so many times, but good thing I’m pretty smart. I didn’t prick my hands when embroidering.”

“Stop talking.”

Yue Zhishi was a bit startled when he heard those words from Song Yu; he even slightly widened his eyes, thinking he’d said something wrong. But Song Yu lowered his head, shortened the distance between them and told him, in the bustling and crowded backstage —

“If you keep talking, I won’t be able to hold back from kissing you in here.”

His heart leaped out of his control.

“You should hurry and change, your hair’s all wet.”

He was so very cute as he pushed Song Yu away with his head lowered, his soft white sweater faintly rising from the press of his thin shoulder-blades.

Thinking of Yue Zhishi’s bare back, Song Yu reached out to touch those blades before heading inside to change his clothes in satisfaction.

Yue Zhishi called the injured Chen Yu as he waited for Song Yu. He asked after his injury, and he’d initially thought Chen Yu wouldn’t be in a good mood — but unexpectedly, Chen Yu was almost floating from happiness, excitedly telling Yue Zhishi he was no longer single.

That was fantastic news. After hanging up the phone, Yue Zhishi happily stretched; as soon as he lowered his head, he saw Xu Lin walking towards him. He was still as usual, ‘Mixed Sweetheart’ coming out of his mouth as soon as he opened it.

“Stop calling me that.” Yue Zhishi glanced back at the changing room, worried Song Yu would hear.

“Why? Are you worried about me having feelings for you?” Xu Lin crossed his arms over his chest. “I do think you look good, but I prefer the tall, handsome, bright and cheerful active type.”

Yue Zhishi frowned in confusion. “Your description…”

His first reaction was — he knew someone like that. His second reaction was — no matter how he thought about it, those words didn’t seem to describe a girl at all.

Just as Yue Zhishi was pondering whether he should first introduce a friend to Xu Lin or whether he should first politely ask his sexual orientation, Xu Lin held out a hand to him.

“I heard you designed the closing show outfit. It was very well-done. I’m impressed.”

It was probably habit for Yue Zhishi to reach out and hold a hand that’d been stretched out; he only felt something was off after he clasped Xu Lin’s hand in return. “Wait, why are you like a different person today? Shouldn’t it be something like, ‘you guys are too weak, I’ll pound you into the ground’?”

The look on Xu Lin’s face shifted as he saw Yue Zhishi imitating him, quickly pulling back his hand in both awkwardness and embarrassment. “Then what do you want? Should I bow and apologise, and then say I shouldn’t have called the law school useless? That I shouldn’t have asked you to model for me?”

Yue Zhishi laughed, the memory of their first meeting emerging in front of his eyes. He then went to hold Xu Lin’s hand again and gave it a firm shake. “Thank you.”

Xu Lin froze for a bit. “You’re so weird… Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you’re also someone very talented. I’m very happy at being recognised by you.”

After finishing their handshake, Xu Lin was a bit lost at where he should put his hand. He wanted to frantically stuff it into his pocket, but he realised his current jacket had no pocket.

In handling cats and everything similar to cats, Yue Zhishi was very adept.

Song Yu came out of the dressing room and just so happened to see Xu Lin and Yue Zhishi exchanging their WeChats; he stood by the side and watched, arms around his chest.

Xu Lin saw him as well. There was still some lingering fear in his heart towards Song Yu, and so he didn’t talk for much longer. “Mixed Sweetheart, I’m off.”

“I have a name…” Helpless, Yue Zhishi watched as he walked off. He saw the meaningful look on Song Yu’s face as soon as he turned around.

Song Yu repeated Xu Lin’s name for Yue Zhishi, each word clearly and distinctively leaving his mouth. “Mixed Sweetheart.”

Yue Zhishi immediately declared his innocence. “He just said he’s not interested in me.”

“He better not be.”

Having gone through what they’d felt was a war, everyone in the law school team stayed behind to clean up backstage. The event had finished by the name they came out again, and they followed the instructions from the organiser’s workers, arriving at the assigned seating area for all of the competitors. The law school’s seats were at the furthest right in the front row, close to the exit corridor. There was an extra seat there, and so Yue Zhishi implored Song Yu to sit with him.

Their hearts that had taken so much effort to calm down once again turned anxious. Even though everyone had consistently comforted each other by saying the results weren’t important, now that they had truly arrived at that moment, there was not a single person who didn’t care.

“Next, let’s have one of our judges, Ms Zhang Yunqing, announce the results of our clothing design competition in this year’s arts festival.”

Chen Pi leaned over to Yue Zhishi. “She’s that classmate of Xu Lin’s mom. She’s also a designer.”

“I hear Xu Lin’s mom ordered a celebration cake for her son a long time ago.”

Cake…

Yue Zhishi tugged Song Yu’s sleeve and looked at him under the dim lights. “I want to eat cake too.”

“I’ll make one for you.” Song Yu touched the back of his hand.

His heart instantly steadied; Yue Zhishi naturally stopped caring anymore — no one else’s recognition was worth Song Yu’s.

Ms Zhang stood on stage, her demeanour outstanding, and took hold of that sealed envelope, saying a few opening words. The workers called out towards the law school team, and they gathered with the other competitors before heading onstage together, standing in front of the large screen as they waited for the results.

Zhang Yunqing opened the envelope, glanced at it and then announced into the microphone the third place winner, a faint smile on her face.

Before the first and second place winners were announced, the audience yelled out the teams they supported. The screams for the law school and the journalism school were particularly loud.

“Being the dark horse doesn’t feel too bad,” Qu Zhi said, chewing on some gum. She didn’t really care about their result.

“Am I imagining things? I feel like there’s a bit more people yelling out our name?” Zhou Yi continued to speak without much confidence.

Qu Zhi shook her head. “No, you’re not imagining it.”

“I hope the judges can hear the cries of the common people…” Chen Pi sighed. “But the other team really is well-connected, people like us with no connections shouldn’t place our hopes too high.”

But Yue Zhishi didn’t agree. “I don’t think so, Xu Lin definitely isn’t the type of person to rely on connections. Even though his mother can help him hire the best stylists and clothing production factories, he’s a really dignified and very prideful person. He won’t use his family background to fix the competition.”

Zhang Yunqing didn’t immediately announce the winner. “I’d like to say a few things. As the judges were deciding between first and second place, there was a small disagreement among us. This competition was honestly very spectacular. Comparatively speaking, the construction of one school’s clothing designs were extremely excellent, and their clothes were also highly fashion-forward. Many of their clothings looked very professional, and if we displayed them to the public, there’s a chance many people wouldn’t believe the clothes were made by students.”

She should be talking about the journalism team. Yue Zhishi admitted that every single outfit from the journalism team’s ‘millennium’ theme was created very exquisitely — they looked like they were made from very experienced designers and productions.

“But,” Zhang Yunqing chuckled, “there was another team today that taught us the significance of design. It doesn’t matter how much professional experience we have, how many master craftsmen we know — what matters is whether we have creativity. Creativity is the eternal spring of design, its endless source of power, and the battle between these young adults today allowed us to see formidable sparks of inspiration. It gave us a wonderful surprise.”

“I must say that the allocation of themes in this competition wasn’t very fair. Some themes were inherently ripe with aesthetic power, while others had no relation to fashion at all. All of us as judges couldn’t imagine that such a common theme based on nature with no link to fashion could actually be developed to this extent. If this theme had been given to me, I myself might not be able to create such designs. And that must be the value behind a design competition.”

She smiled. “Especially that moment when rainbows appeared after the rain and everyone chose to accept the storm…”

Without waiting for her to finish, the audience started to cheer, shouting out law school’s name exactly like they’d done during their show. The sounds of their joy overwhelmed the auditorium, spreading deeply into the corners of the room.

“So…”

She looked over at the several people sitting in an unremarkable corner. “Congratulations to the law school, winner of this year’s arts festival clothing design competition!”

The entire audience burst into well-deserved screams.

Yue Zhishi hugged Song Yu in happiness and also gave Chen Pi, who was sitting on his left, a hug. With those teammates he’d battled shoulder to shoulder with for so many days, they walked together towards the stage to receive their award.

“And at the same time, congratulations to our journalism and new communications school, second place in this year’s arts festival clothing design competition!” Zhang Yunqing said, “We also have two special awards: a Best Production Award and a Most Creative Award. The teams in the journalism and law schools are respectively awarded them as well, congratulations to the two of you!”

It was as though they were dreaming. The moment he walked onstage, Yue Zhishi gazed towards Song Yu’s direction. Song Yu was peacefully sitting below, applauding, and a gentle lake seemed to be reflected in his dark eyes. He was Yue Zhishi’s source of inspiration, as well as the direction to which his heart turned.

After receiving their award, it was actually Lin Rong who was the happiest; she ran to embrace him as soon as Yue Zhishi came off the stage, excitedly bouncing a good few times on her stiletto heels.

“Our darling’s too amazing.” Lin Rong smooched both of Yue Zhishi’s cheeks. He was already used to it, and so he didn’t expect to be teased by the people around him.

“And our Xiao Yu, such a handsome boy, who gave birth to such a good-looking son…”

Sensing danger, Song Yu turned sideways and dodged his mother’s kiss attack, circling to the right of Yue Zhishi. He said to Lin Rong, “Ms Lin, calm down.”

As Yue Zhishi laughed at them, Song Jin arrived behind him and kept giving him praises. “The concept for your third round was really quite good. Even though people of our generation would feel the impact of it more than people your age, it could be considered as a breakthrough in perception to a certain extent.”

Nan Jia joked with Song Jin, “Uncle, are you referring to the transgender model when you say you felt a large impact?”

“Ah, so that’s the correct term.” Song Jin nodded. “Not bad, not bad, I’ve learned a bit more about the world today.”

Lin Rong thought today was a day that must be celebrated, so she invited the entire team and all the friends who’d come to watch the show to dinner. The large private room was filled to the brim with people, and everyone chatted with great delight.

After dinner, Lin Rong and Song Jin prepared to go home — they told the two of them to come home next week before they left, saying they needed to celebrate gege’s birthday together. The large group of people sent off that pair of adorable parents, and then headed back to campus.

Everyone continued to make a fuss on the way back, swiping through their Moments and Qzones to watch the videos many people uploaded of the clothing design competition.

“I think senior Song Yu might have more and more people chasing after him in the future.” Chen Pi clicked his tongue a few times and then asked Song Yu in curiosity, “Senior, what’s your type?”

Yue Zhishi had initially been incredibly sleepy, but his drowsiness disappeared as soon as he heard Chen Pi’s question — but he was next to Jiang Yufan, and so he didn’t turn around to look at gege.

Qin Yan had lots to say. “Oh him — he doesn’t consider anyone worth a second look. He’s going to stay single for his entire life.”

Nan Jia laughed and said, joking, “That’s not necessarily true, Song Yu might be the kind of tragic guy who’s head over heels in love with someone he can’t get for many, many years.”

Everyone cracked up; only Yue Zhishi didn’t dare laugh. Song Yu was someone who very much held grudges, and if he laughed now, who knew when Song Yu might randomly decide to retaliate.

Song Yu didn’t answer, an attempt at a smile on his face. Everyone thought his lowering of eyes meant he didn’t want to answer, but actually, he’d been gazing at the shadow of Yue Zhishi on the ground the entire time.

Once they’d walked all the girls back to their dorms, Qin Yan could tell Song Yu wasn’t planning on going back to his dorm. “S.Yu, are you going to your apartment?”

“Mn.”

“Then Le Le, what about you?” Qin Yan wrapped an arm around Le Le’s shoulders. “Why don’t you spend some time at your Qin Yan gege’s place. I have lots of games, want to play together?”

Song Yu flung Qin Yan’s hand away and said to Yue Zhishi without any expression on his face, “His apartment’s not nice, it doesn’t have ceiling to floor windows.”

“Hey! What’s up with you?”

Song Yu looked back at Qin Yan. There was no inflection in his voice as he asked, “Where would he sleep if he went to your place? In between you and your girlfriend?”

Qin Yan was lost for words, and he agitatedly pointed at Song Yu for a good long while before he turned to Yue Zhishi, deflated. “Uh, Le Le, how about next time. We two brothers will have a fun night in the next time my wife’s out.”

“Who are you brothers with?” Song Yu icily scoffed.

“You and I are brothers, you two are brothers — therefore, Le Le and I are also brothers. What kind of university tyrant are you if you can’t even understand a simple calculation like that.” Qin Yan threw down his words. He then saw Le Le following them out of campus and asked, “Are you staying over at your brother’s?”

Yue Zhishi nodded. “Mn.”

“Not bad. Even though your brother doesn’t have a good temper, has a dead face and doesn’t know what it means to be gentle and considerate”—Qin Yan took a breath—“he still saved you guys today and cared for your brotherly relationship. Give your brother a massage once you’re back, so he won’t threaten you in the future with it like someone extremely petty.”

Yue Zhishi was just about to retort back and say his ge was gentle and super considerate and knew very well how to take care of someone, but Song Yu responded to Qin Yan with simple and blunt three words.

“Shut up, you.”

They weren’t in the same building, so the three of them separated after entering the neighbourhood.

Now that there were only Song Yu and Yue Zhishi left, everything suddenly turned peaceful, no other noise except their offbeat footsteps. Evergreen trees were planted everywhere in this city, and so there was no such thing as the withering of autumn and winter. In the darkness, underneath the shadows of the lush trees, Yue Zhishi shifted closer to Song Yu and reached out to hold his hand, but Song Yu moved his hand away.

Song Yu placed his hands behind his back, his eyes turned towards him. Yue Zhishi thought this was a kind of provocation, so he went this way and went that way, circling around Song Yu without success all the way until they entered the elevator.

“I haven’t held your hand all night.”

That sentence truly sounded pitiful. After opening the door to their apartment once they left the elevator, Song Yu held out his hand — only to have Yue Zhishi smack it, the noise very loud.

Seeing Song Yu’s eyes slightly widen from astonishment, Yue Zhishi gave him a sly smile.

“Yue Zhishi, you’re going to regret that.”

Before he could react, everything around him spun; Song Yu directly plucked him up, his lower belly pressing against Song Yu’s shoulder. Yue Zhishi flopped around like a sad little fish, but none of his movements were of any use at all.

His head started to feel a bit woozy from the blood rushing downwards, and his face started to redden. He kept calling out Song Yu’s name, begging him to put him down, and all he saw were the wooden steps as Song Yu climbed up them one by one, as well as the motion sensor lights, now lit up, on the edge of each step. He and Song Yu had knelt on the steps and installed each of them together.

The door to their room was pushed open, and the light was also turned on, the carpet on the floor pure white. He was thrown onto the soft bed, and Song Yu pressed down on him like a shower of heavy rain predicted long ago. Closing his eyes, Yue Zhishi thought of the final words Song Yu had said, as well as the kind of punishments that were very likely to happen.

But things didn’t happen according to his imagination.

There was a light tug on the hair at the top of his head. Yue Zhishi squinted open his eyes uncertainly, and then realised Song Yu had gently taken away a golden oriental plane leaf from his hair. He held onto that leaf, spinning it around in front of the dimly yellow bedside lamp, before finally placing it down on the white nightstand.

With this unexpected movement, it was as though the intense rhythm of before had been thrown into disarray by Song Yu’s subconscious tenderness. Both of them were slightly stunned when their eyes met.

Song Yu wasn’t romantic at all, always realistic and orderly in everything he did. In everyone’s eyes, he was someone not affected with strong emotions, but only Yue Zhishi knew — all of Song Yu’s frenzied and tender feelings of love had solidified into a ray aimed clearly in one direction, the tip of that arrow pointing towards Yue Zhishi himself.

No one else could see this kind of Song Yu.

Yue Zhishi raised his slender neck, lifting his head to briefly give Song Yu a kiss, and then he smiled, wrapping his hands around his neck. “Song Yu, you really have a vindictive heart. I just smacked you once, it’s not like it hurt.”

He held out a hand. “Here, you can hit me.”

Song Yu gave his hand a glance. And then, contrary to Yue Zhishi’s expectations, he lowered his head and kissed the palm Yue Zhishi had willingly opened.

But it was just for one moment — the look on his face quickly changed.

“I don’t want to hit your hand anymore.”

He pressed Yue Zhishi’s wrist onto the bed, his other hand moving downwards and opening buttons.

“I want to hit somewhere else.”

Struggling, Yue Zhishi wriggled around a few times. He didn’t use Song Yu’s name anymore, calling him gege with a whine in his voice. “But I won an award today. You haven’t even rewarded me yet, you only know how to punish me.”

The cold air of the autumn night flowed through the unclosed window and very quickly attached itself to skin — but even faster, Song Yu’s dry and broad palm surrounded him, the heat of it opening those fine pores.

And his legs.

“There’s not much of a difference,” Song Yu said, arching an eyebrow. “You can take it as a reward.”