CH 89

Chapter 89: Peeling Away the Darkness

“You don’t need to let everyone know when you like someone. I’m not trying to force you.”

The smile on Zhang Siyun’s face slightly faded away. “But your parents seem to really care about your love life and future marriage. If you don’t tell them, they’ll still think they can introduce suitable girls to you in the future. There’ll only be more and more problems between you and your girlfriend, and once more time has passed, she really might end up leaving you. Do you know how hard it is for a girl when she’s tired? Please — that shouldn’t be what you want, right?”

Seeing Song Yu’s tightly drawn eyebrows, Zhang Siyun held her chin in her hands. “I’m serious. I’m saying all of this from the bottom of my heart.”

Song Yu looked at her with some uncertainty as he heard her encouraging him once again. “What are your plans?”

“Me?” Zhang Siyun blinked. “Plans?”

“Didn’t you just say you were temporarily shelving your plans.” Song Yu blandly explained to her, “I’ve liked this person for many years already. I will acknowledge only him in this lifetime.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I don’t have any more plans.” Zhang Siyun took a sip of her coffee and put the cup back down. “I only said ‘temporarily shelving’ in order to leave myself some face. It was so rare for me to fall in love at first sight, only for you to already have a girlfriend. I ended up wasting my heart. I’m actually quite hurt, but I care more about how I look than my broken heart. I don’t want to blubber and spill a cup of coffee over you — how terrible would that look?”

“Ah yes, saying we could be friends was also to leave some dignity for the both of us since I can’t just disappear after yelling at you. Don’t mention that plan anymore; it was just talk. Don’t take it seriously. I might be dating a new handsome guy next week, and having a friend like you around would only affect my peach blossoms. We’re not the same kind of people. You hold love sacred while me — I intend on enjoying my life to its fullest.”

Standing up, she paid the bill before saying to Song Yu, “Hey, I’m being serious. What if your parents end up accepting her if you just try? Someone who could make you like them — wouldn’t they be the kind of treasure found only in the heavens?”

“True love is very powerful. You should believe in fairy tales for once in your life, classmate Song Yu.”

He stayed by himself in that cold and deserted cafe for a very long time, thinking.

In the few days after, Song Yu submitted his application to change his graduation thesis topic three times, only for them to all be turned down. He was swamped with needing to submit all different kinds of data every day, needing to run back and forth among different offices, and yet he still wasn’t able to get the answer he wanted.

When he’d first been guaranteed a spot in the postgraduate program, Song Yu had already looked for Professor He, who was in charge of the research area he liked. But the professor had been too busy — Song Yu had waited for him outside his office for several days in row. He’d only bumped into him the last day he’d gone, and Professor He had been very surprised to see him.

“I know you.” Professor He had hesitated. “You’re very famous. Why are you thinking of coming to me?”

Song Yu had talked to him for a long time, and old Professor He had finally agreed, patting his shoulder. “Young fellow, our research area here is the most tiring, most bitter kind — it’s also really dangerous. It’s completely only to serve the people.”

“I know.”

“Fine, I can see you’ve already decided. Come over once you’ve graduated.”

Thinking of what Professor He had said, Song Yu held onto his rejected application and knocked on Professor Zhang’s office door.

Professor Zhang looked at ease, inviting Song Yu to sit down and chat, but Song Yu rejected his offer.

“Song Yu, I’ve said this before. I have no problem with you changing research areas during your postgraduate studies. We can talk about it again when you start postgrad, there’s no rush.” Professor Zhang poured a cup of tea and pushed it in front of Song Yu. “But why do you want to change your graduation thesis topic now too? That’s not common practice at all. Have you seen anyone else do so?”

Song Yu looked at his eyes and said apathetically, “Professor Zhang, I’ve said before that I don’t want to be forced into a direction by other people. When I first chose you for my research, you’d hoped I would follow you for postgrad. I told you then that my future postgrad research would be in a different area, and you’d said that was fine, no problem. But your later actions didn’t follow what you’d said. There should be boundaries between people. You’ve done too much now, and have also interfered with too much.”

“Yes, I did say that, but Song Yu — you yourself know that your best future will be from following me. Your father agrees too; I’ve discussed this with him for a long while, and he’s also really satisfied with the future plans I’ve created for you…”

“Professor Zhang,” Song Yu interrupted him, “my father is different from you. He might’ve been convinced by what you said, but he will respect my interest. Also…”

“There is no possibility between your daughter and me. Please respect me, and please respect her.”

“All of that is stuff to be talked about later, Song Yu.” Professor Zhang crossed his arms. “You’ve already almost finished the first draft of your thesis, and your research results are also ready to be used. Even if I let you be the first person to change your thesis like this, would you still be able to successfully graduate? Do you not want your previous work anymore? Child, be realistic. You still have a very long road ahead of you.”

Song Yu finished listening and then laughed. “Professor Zhang, I don’t want it anymore. If you’re willing to let me change, I’ll be grateful. If you’re not willing, I can apply for an extension.”

“Your postgraduate spot’s already confirmed and yet you’re talking about an extension? Song Yu, is there something wrong with you?”

“I can take the entrance exams again. Based on my abilities, there’s no way I won’t be able to get in. Just like you said — I still have a very long road ahead of me.” The expression of Song Yu’s face was transparent yet cold. “Why is why I will not be controlled by other people. I will only walk the road I choose.”

He then turned around and left the office, tearing apart and throwing that rejected application into the bin.

As he walked downstairs, he received messages from his mother — many of them.

[Ms Lin: Xiao Yu, let mom borrow the computer in your room! I need to urgently edit a menu, but I can’t use photoshop on my laptop anymore.]

Song Yu sent her his password as he continued walking.

[Xiao Yu: Remember to turn it off for me.]

In order to prevent seeing Zhang Siyun again, Song Yu moved out of the research lab. Very fortunately, on the day he was moving things out, Professor He saw him; he was on the same floor, and he allowed Song Yu to follow him into his research lab with his boxes.

“You can sit there.” Opening the door to the research lab, Professor He pointed at an empty spot. “Your senior brother’s gone to an internship and won’t be back until graduation.” He patted Song Yu’s shoulder. “Young man, work hard. There’s nothing that can’t be overcome.”

Later, Professor He left, and Song Yu placed his boxes onto the desk. The senior brother next to him swivelled his chair around to him and said, “Junior brother, are you coming to our group?”

“I hope I can,” Song Yu briefly said.

His phone rang again; it was still messages from Lin Rong.

[Ms Lin: So strange, why can’t I find where your photoshop saves files?]

[Ms Lin: Heavens, I wouldn’t have lost all of my work, would I?]

[Xiao Yu: You’ll be able to find it if you just search around. There are only so many folders in the computer.]

“We all know about your fall out with Old Zhang. What a terrible person, what kind of person would use his power to pressure a student?” The senior shook his head. “Even Old He’s heard about it. So awkward.”

Another senior sister laughed as she said, “What’s so awkward for Old He? He was even laughing the other day in his office, saying if he’d known earlier that such a popular student liked him so much, he would’ve gone and agreed to take the student for his graduation thesis. But he was too busy and ended up missing out on a treasure.”

“Old He’s just like a old naughty child. He’s not afraid of Old Zhang.” The senior brother clicked the ballpoint pen in his hand. “Good luck, junior brother.”

Song Yu thought, if he really did end up pushing back his graduation, it’d be fine as long as he could still test in. There was no difference in coming in a year earlier or a year later.

As he left the classroom building, Song Yu wanted to give Yue Zhishi a call, but a call came through first from Nan Jia. He hesitated for a bit before picking it up.

“Is something the matter?”

“Yes.” Nan Jia said over the phone, “I’ll be succinct. Are you and Le Le arguing? Why did I see him at the hospital to get checked out by himself? I don’t know what happened, it’s also possible that he just didn’t want you to worry. I just saw him at the register on the first floor when I went to get my meds. I wanted to stay with him, but then I thought, he should be needing you more right now.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You should hurry.”

Song Yu didn’t know how he actually drove to the university hospital — it felt like his brain was an utter mess. There had been too, too many ‘last straws’ pressing down on him lately; he honestly couldn’t count nor distinguish them apart anymore.

But there was no way he could’ve thought that Yue Zhishi would sneak away to the hospital by himself instead of choosing to rely on him.

The hospital was filled with people as it always was, chaotic and messy, and the pale white lighting fell onto many sorrowful and worried faces. The disinfectant solution violently crushed all the complicated smells together and sent the mixture directly into noses, making people uncomfortable. Struggling to maintain his calm exterior, Song Yu searched through each full injection room before finally seeing him at the end of the corridor.

Yue Zhishi was wearing a thick, cotton-padded jacket in black, and he was sitting on the bench in the corridor; Song Yu’s checkered grey scarf was around his neck, and a black woollen cap was on his head. His entire face, ghostly pale, was sunken in, and his eyes were wide as he stared at the phone held horizontally in his hands.

An IV pole was next to him with only a small bit remaining of the drip. The veins on the back of his lowered hand were sticking out, a needle poked into one of them, but Yue Zhishi had no expression on his face. He looked very docile, not crying nor making a fuss.

For a moment, Song Yu’s emotions surged; there was a slight burning in his eyes. He walked towards Yue Zhishi and then crouched down halfway in front of him.

There was a tiny freeze in Yue Zhishi’s movements, those large pale-coloured eyes gazing at Song Yu blankly. His dark brown eyelashes trembled; at last, he let go of the phone in his hand and lifted it to touch Song Yu’s forehead.

Only then did he say, “How are you here?”

Song Yu couldn’t say a single harsh word now that he was in front of Yue Zhishi. He caught Yue Zhishi’s hand, not really caring that this was the university hospital and someone they’d know might show up — he held his hand, and kissed the back of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Song Yu looked at him, his voice very soft. “Do you have a fever?”

“A low one, 38 degrees.” Yue Zhishi gave Song Yu a smile and pulled him up, not wanting him to keep crouching. “You’re so busy. I can come by myself.”

In the corridor filled with people passing by, Song Yu reached out and pulled Yue Zhishi into his arms.

“People aren’t allowed to see the doctor by themselves when they’re sick.”

Yue Zhishi had initially felt a bit uncomfortable at how openly they were touching within the university hospital, but after hearing the words come out of Song Yu’s mouth with such certainty, he wanted to laugh. “There’s no such rule as that.”

“We have that rule in our family.” Song Yu stroked his face and then added, “Our future family.”

Yue Zhishi wanted to say when did we ever have a family, but he felt like it would be too hurtful — and so he raised his head and looked at the drip.

“I think it’s finished.” He patted Song Yu and reached out to pull out the needle himself, but Song Yu stopped him.

Song Yu said, “You can’t pull it out yourself, have you gone dumb? You also don’t have any cotton for the blood.” But very quickly, his voice gentled. “Be good, I’ll go call a nurse.”

Seeing Song Yu’s receding figure, Yue Zhishi felt the entire last few moments hadn’t been quite real. He nudged the needle — it hurt.

He thought of how dizzily he’d left his self-study classroom, lining up at the hospital and then paying his fees; he’d even taken the wrong medicine script and had been scolded by the dispensing doctor. The injection rooms has been full of people, and so he had only been able to sit in the windy, cigarette smoke-filled corridor with his drip.

After two hours, Yue Zhishi finally thought his suffering was about to end. It was a large step forward in his personal life, but at the final moment, as everything was about to come to a close, Song Yu still ended up appearing.

Yue Zhishi really wanted to learn how Song Yu had mastered the ability of being to find him no matter when and where he was. Perhaps if he could learn it too, then maybe one day, during Song Yu’s most painful moments, he wouldn’t appear so slowly.

A nurse took out the needle as he was lost in his thoughts and even told him very gently that he needed to come tomorrow, too. Yue Zhishi thanked her. Song Yu grabbed his hand, pressing a piece of cotton onto it for him, and pulled him outside with their hands linked together. He took him back to the apartment.

As he drove, he told Yue Zhishi the good news about Professor He actively letting him into his research lab. Yue Zhishi was very happy, and he kissed him a good few times during red lights.

Song Yu didn’t mention anything else.

Once back at the apartment, Song Yu turned on the aircon and left it on high, urging Yue Zhishi to take his meds and rest. Yue Zhishi obediently took off his outside clothes and crawled into bed before he suddenly remembered something — he pulled out a chocolate wafer bar from his jacket, putting it on top of the bedside table.

“Let’s check your temperature again.” Holding onto the thermometer, Song Yu sat onto the side of the bed and handed it to Yue Zhishi. He looked at the bar as he did so.

“I’ll give it to you since I can’t eat it anyway. I think the inside is made of flour.”

“Where’d it come from?” Song Yu grabbed the bar and gave it a look before putting it back down. “Someone gave you candy again?”

Yue Zhishi nodded. “There was originally another four year old boy on the bench where I was sitting. He gave it to me.” A cute look appeared on his face, and his eyes glowed as he described to Song Yu, “He looked a bit like you. His hair was so black, and so were his eyes. He was a very good-looking child. Plus he was particularly hard to get along with.”

Song Yu gave him a perplexed look, but Yue Zhishi continued, holding onto his arm. He even imitated the boy as he repeated his words. “The kid said, you’re so strange-looking, why are your eyes like that? His mom told him off, saying he didn’t have any manners, and then he apologised to me really stiffly. He took out a piece of candy from his pocket and gave it to me. He said, this candy’s not nice, I don’t like it. You can have it.”

Yue Zhishi started to laugh. “His mom later told me it was his favourite candy, and he’d never given it away before.”

And then, he looked at Song Yu. “Isn’t that really similar to you?”

Song Yu looked entirely reluctant to admit it.

“I wondered then if you were as adorable as that when you were four.” The smile on Yue Zhishi’s face slowly faded away, his eyes losing focus. “Gege, you probably really like children, right?”

Song Yu frowned. “Why are you asking?”

Yue Zhishi’s voice came lightly. “Because you keep talking about me having a baby.”

The lights in the room were very warm, and it made even the fine hair on Yue Zhishi’s fair face look soft. He spoke softly, voice drifting, “You know that, right — no matter how many times we have sex, we’ll never have a child.”

There were some things that could never come to pass, just like how there were some candies Yue Zhishi could never eat.

Song Yu’s heart felt like it’d been brutally yanked by that one sentence.

“I was teasing you.”

If he’d known that these things would happen, that there was a possibility of him being forced to marry and create a family, Song Yu definitely wouldn’t have chosen such a poor joke that could give Yue Zhishi pain.

It was just that he’d been too happy. Every minute, every second that he’d been with Yue Zhishi, he’d felt so happy, so free. He’d never been able to find those feelings from anyone or anything else. The joy felt a bit foreign to Song Yu; it was why he had been so unsure about what to do after he managed to grab hold of it, only able to move slowly, cautiously; it was why he’d said some absurd and laughable things to amuse his own lover — in front of Yue Zhishi, he’d turned into an immature child.

“I don’t like kids at all. They’re noisy, always crying and making a fuss, and they take up too much energy.” Song Yu truthfully confessed, “I know we won’t have any, which was why I dared to joke about it. To be honest, to me, the significance of having a child is simply obtaining another identity. Such as ‘your child’s father’, or ‘your partner’. Wouldn’t it be harder for you to leave me the more identities based on love and duty we have between us?”

“But it’d be best if we don’t have any.” Song Yu even said somewhat spitefully, “I don’t want anyone to take away the feelings that belong to me. If you have a baby, you’ll definitely put all your focus on them. I don’t want a child. In our family, we only need two people — you and me.”

Yue Zhishi was a bit surprised; he didn’t think Song Yu would answer him like this.

He dubiously asked, “You really don’t like babies?”

“No.” Song Yu leaned over, touching his lips to Yue Zhishi’s forehead, and caressed his cheek.

“Besides, I already have a baobao. I want to take care of only him.”

Yue Zhishi’s nose suddenly started to burn. His heart hurt, but he didn’t cry. Song Yu held him, soothed him to sleep, told him don’t worry, don’t be sad, he was with him no matter what.

He said very tenderly that everything would get better soon — as soon as Yue Zhishi woke up, everything would’ve gotten much better, they’d feel much more relaxed than now, much freer.

The flu medicine gradually started to work, and Yue Zhishi started to feel woozy; he fell asleep in those secure arms.

He didn’t know how long he’d slept for, abruptly feeling his heart twist in his dreams. Yue Zhishi blinked open his eyes, and he uneasily called out Song Yu’s name. He could only see the medicine and the milk candy he could eat on the bedside table. There was a note underneath them, and it said, [I’ll be back very soon. I’ll bring you back something delicious, wait for me to come home.]

He stared at the note and then looked at the clock on the wall. It was already 11pm, and the anxious, uneasy feeling in his heart dragged at him. For some reason, he remembered Song Yu’s actions in the hospital; he’d not cared about other people’s eyes. He remembered the words Song Yu had said as he’d soothed him to sleep, and it felt like he faintly, indistinctly, found multiple clues.

Yue Zhishi grabbed his phone and gave Song Yu a call. No one picked up. He calmed down and called Lin Rong.

Once again, no one picked up.

His thoughts having been verified, Yue Zhishi ran downstairs. He couldn’t find Song Yu’s car, so he immediately took a taxi and returned back to the Song family’s home.

He ran to the elevator, frantically waiting for the doors to open; his hands were trembling as the doors opened. In that moment, he realised he was wearing cotton slippers — the fever plaster was still on his forehead, and he looked very muddled, very panicked.

After taking two seconds to collect himself, he opened the door and heard Father Song’s voice. Ever since he’d arrived at Song Yu’s home at three years old, this was the first time Yue Zhishi had heard Song Jin so angry — he might not have sounded irrational, but his voice had lost all of its previous gentleness.

“Song Yu, as a father, I’ve never asked for anything from you. I’ve never held you back from anything you wanted to learn, and that includes the day you said you wanted to change research directions. You said you wanted to research natural disaster emergency mapping, and even though I really wasn’t willing to let you do it, did I say a single thing to you? Have you ever considered that after all these years, I would still have nightmares at night and think about your Uncle Yue after seeing people dying from disasters on the news?”

His voice was shaking. “You said you wanted to do something so dangerous because emergency mapping relief could mean there’ll be less children like Le Le in the world. After you said something like that, no matter how fearful or unwilling my heart was, I still agreed and let you do what you wanted.”

Yue Zhishi froze in place after hearing those words.

Song Yu had never told him.

“But you? What have you done? I brought back your Uncle Yue’s only remaining flesh and blood and hoped for him to grow up well. I didn’t bring him back for you to pull him onto such a path and have him suffer! When I die in the future, how can I face your uncle in the afterlife?”

“Song Jin, since Xiao Yu came back and told us himself, that means he’s already considered it…”

Yue Zhishi heard Lin Rong’s voice; it sounded faintly tearful, and suddenly, his heart felt very painful.

“Considered it? He’s admitting that he likes men. If it weren’t for you accidentally seeing that letter, would he have come out and told you the person he’s dating is Yue Zhishi?”

Lin Rong held back her tears, saying, “Then what would you have your son do? Of course he wouldn’t want things to be like this — do you really think Xiao Yu is someone who would purposefully influence Le Le? Wasn’t that letter already clear enough? Xiao Yu, he… he never wanted anything.”

Song Jin fell silent for a few seconds.

To Yue Zhishi, those seconds passed as though they were years.

“Song Yu, you say you like men. There are so many men in this world, so why does it have to be Le Le? He grew up with you, almost exactly like real brothers — don’t you think that’s strange?”

Song Yu’s voice finally appeared. “To be honest, I don’t like men. I only like Yue Zhishi. Yes, there are so many people in the world, and yes, to fall in love with the little brother I grew up with — I did find it strange and abnormal. Dad, do you think I didn’t suffer?”

After a long time, only then did Song Jin open his mouth. The emotions in his voice had changed.

“Of course you can say you like Le Le now, that you will accept no one else but him. But what about later? Nowadays, young people break up so easily. What if one day your heart changes and you break up with him and want to be together with someone else? Song Yu, what would you have Yue Zhishi do then? Would he still be able to continue living with us? How would other people look at him — how would they talk about him?”

“He lost his family at three years old. If a day like that really happened, the two of you wouldn’t be able to go back to being brothers. Do you want him to once again taste how it feels to no longer have a family? Xiao Yu, the path you’re walking on is a path of no return!”

“I know.” Firmly and unwavering, Song Yu said, “I’ve never thought about turning back.”

Yue Zhishi stepped forward, walking from the entrance to the living room. It was only a few short metres, yet every step was so difficult.

He finally needed to peel away the protective shell of darkness and reveal his true self underneath the light.

It was as though Lin Rong’s voice was right next to his ear. “Xiao Yu, you’ve never thought about turning back, but what about the other way around?”

If one day, Yue Zhishi wanted to be with someone else.

“Other way around…” Song Yu chuckled bleakly. “Yue Zhishi can turn back whenever he wants, I’m willing to let him go. But as long as he doesn’t want to leave me, I will definitely not let go.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

Yue Zhishi walked out of the entrance corridor, the blinding living room lights falling on his body.

The arguing parents looked at him, but Yue Zhishi’s eyes landed onto that printed piece of paper on the floor. He bent over, picking it up.

[To a certain someone who’ll appear in the future:

I don’t really want to say hello. I don’t even really want you to appear. But I know a day like this will come, and in order for you to take better care of Yue Zhishi, to prevent any danger from happening at the beginning of your relationship, I’ve prepared this ahead of time. I’ve written this ‘Manual to Dating Yue Zhishi’ — please read it carefully.

Firstly, Yue Zhishi suffers from a very severe wheat allergy. Obviously, he has no fate with anything that has to do with wheat. I hope you won’t let him eat cake just because he asks (he’s very good at whining). Even just the smallest bit could take away his life. His allergy symptoms are extremely dangerous. In mild cases, he’ll get rashes and diarrhoea. In severe cases, his asthma will flare up.

This is the second thing I need to tell you. You have to carry his medicine with you at all times, and it’d be best if you could master how to give emergency first aid for asthma. It’s not hard — if you need, I can send you the videos I used to learn. They’re very useful. Please make sure you appear by his side when he needs you.

His parents passed away a long time ago. I hope you won’t bring them up too often. Even though he doesn’t say so, but he really cares about that (and don’t take him to watch too many movies about families, his head will hurt if he cries too much).

Also, he’s really scared of thunder, he’s been like that since the first day he came to my family. Please don’t laugh when you see this — don’t look down on being scared of thunder. He really is afraid, and you have to respect his fear. Overcoming it is actually very simple. You only need to cover one ear for him and sleep next to him at night, it’s fine even if you don’t hold him (of course, you can hug and kiss him, you’re not me).

Yue Zhishi really loves sweets and small animals. For breakfast, he likes eating soup buns (you need to eat the skin) and rice noodles. He’s obsessed with anime, please don’t question his hobby. And he’s also really good at drawing and making things by hand — please treasure his work and don’t carelessly leave them around. He’ll be hurt if he sees. If he gives you stickers that could be used on anything, I sincerely hope you won’t misuse them.

Even though all the things above might make you want to retreat, you’re actually really lucky. Yue Zhishi is the world’s kindest, gentlest child. He won’t ask you for too many things, and he doesn’t have a temper either. He actually finds it very hard to reject other people, so I hope you can teach him how to say no — I also hope you can tolerate his dietary restrictions and can forgive his small temper tantrums when he’s sick (he’s actually really cute when he starts fussing).

I ended up writing a lot despite getting rid of a lot of things. If I think of anything new, I’ll add it in. You might think I’m overstepping my boundaries, that I have no right to say anything of this. But if I could’ve received a letter like this when I was six years old, before meeting him, I would’ve been very grateful.

Please treat him well. Don’t let Yue Zhishi cry; he really likes crying. If you find him annoying, please send him back or contact me immediately to take him back home. Please don’t leave him by himself.

Yue Zhishi’s older brother, Song Yu]

What Yue Zhishi didn’t see was — the document was named [5201010 (manual, draft 4)], saved five years ago.