Desk-mate, Do You Like Me? - Chapter 60

Chapter 60

It was the third day of the Lunar New Year. The festive atmosphere had not yet dissipated, but the high school sophomores’ holiday was rapidly drawing to a close.

On the desk, towering piles of test papers and workbooks silently reminded them of the reality they were about to return to.

Li Mo sat cross-legged on the living room rug, leaning against the sofa, his brows furrowed. The tip of his pen repeatedly stabbed at a math derivative problem, leaving agitated ink dots.

The warm sunshine, the pleasant holiday, the companionship of the person beside him—all the tranquility they had just built seemed so vulnerable when faced with this sea of symbols. A familiar suffocating feeling, as if he were about to be submerged by the torrent of academic pressure, slowly gripped him.

Xu Qing emerged from the kitchen, carrying two cups of warm water. He saw Li Mo almost burying his head in the test paper. He walked over, placed one cup of water near Li Mo’s hand, and his gaze scanned the badly abused problem.

“Stuck?” His voice was calm as he sat down beside Li Mo.

Li Mo abruptly leaned his head back, resting the back of his head on the sofa edge, and groaned: “What kind of garbage question is this! It’s not meant for human beings!”

His tone was sharp, carrying obvious displaced anger, as if venting all his dissatisfaction with academic pressure onto this one problem.

Xu Qing didn’t mind his attitude. He reached out and took the test paper, looking down at it carefully. His profile looked serene and focused in the light, his long eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath his eyes.

After his outburst, the nameless frustration in Li Mo’s chest dissipated by more than half. He secretly glanced at Xu Qing, feeling a bit guilty.

Seeing that Xu Qing was just earnestly studying the problem and wasn’t affected by him, the inexplicable anxiety in his heart was strangely soothed. He quietly scooted closer to Xu Qing, his arm touching his, feeling that steady warmth.

“Here,” after a moment, Xu Qing pointed at one of the conditions in the problem with his fingertip. “The implicit condition is that the function is differentiable at this point. You can use L’Hopital’s rule when finding the limit.” He then accurately circled a spot in Li Mo’s messy scratch paper. “Here, the sign is wrong.”

His voice was low and his explanation was clear and logical, without the slightest hint of impatience.

Li Mo leaned in, following his finger, and the tangled mess in his mind was instantly cut open by a sharp light, becoming clear. “…Damn, so that’s how it is!”

He realized suddenly, snatched the pen, and started calculating again with a flurry of strokes.

Xu Qing quietly sat beside him, slowly sipping his water, watching him write.

Li Mo was not stupid; on the contrary, his mind was very sharp, but this sharpness was never focused on studying.

Li Mo’s mood lifted instantly after solving the problem, the previous gloom completely gone. He nudged Xu Qing with his elbow smugly: “Aiya, you’re still the best. Old Zhang definitely taught a similar problem in class; I must have zoned out.”

“Mhm.” Xu Qing put down his water cup, his gaze sweeping over the rest of Li Mo’s homework spread on the floor. “Did you finish the physics test paper?”

“Not yet…” Li Mo’s momentum instantly deflated. Physics was another disaster area for him.

Xu Qing didn’t say anything. He simply got up and took out his physics notebook and a few compiled collections of incorrect problems from his neat school bag, placing them in front of Li Mo: “I’ve marked the key points and typical problems. Look at these first. Ask me if you don’t understand anything.”

The handwriting in the notebook was meticulous, key points were differentiated with different colored pens, and there were concise annotations next to them. Li Mo looked at the items in front of him, then looked up at Xu Qing’s expressionless yet incredibly reliable face. His heart was violently struck by something, feeling a mix of soreness and softness.

He remembered that in the past, when his grades slipped, his mother, Yu Wenxiu, would only call after being notified, her tone filled with blame and disappointment: “Li Mo, can’t you give me a break? The family has provided you with the best conditions, and this is the grade you give me in return?” Then, she would likely send another sum of money, telling him to enroll in a more expensive tutoring class.

Although he had never attended them.

No one had ever quietly organized their notes like this, placed them in front of him, and said, in the calmest tone, “Ask me if you don’t understand anything.”

This wasn’t compensation; it was support.

Li Mo lowered his head, his fingers tightly gripping the edge of the notebook, his knuckles slightly white. He sniffed and mumbled: “…Thanks.”

“Hurry up and work,” Xu Qing picked up his own book again, his tone still flat. “I’ll check it tonight.”

For the rest of the time, only the rustling of turning pages and the scratching of pen tips remained in the living room. The sunlight slowly moved, stretching and overlapping their shadows.

When Li Mo encountered a difficult problem, he would still fretfully scratch his head, but he no longer flew into a rage as before. Instead, he would turn his head and poke Xu Qing’s arm with his pen cap.

“For this problem, is the force analysis wrong?”

Xu Qing would put down his book, lean over, look at the problem, occasionally draw a diagram on the scratch paper, and briefly explain a few sentences. His thought process was always very clear, and a few words could often illuminate the confusion.

Occasionally, when Li Mo was tired of studying, he would playfully rest his head on Xu Qing’s leg to read, calling it “changing my brain,” only to be tapped lightly on the forehead by Xu Qing and would grudgingly sit up straight. Or, he would suddenly interrupt Xu Qing, shove a piece of candy or half an apple toward him, insisting that the other person eat it.

These small interludes served as a lubricant during the dry studying, easing the feeling of fatigue.

In the early evening, Li Mo finally conquered a physics test paper, stretching out with a long yawn, feeling like his brain was almost empty. He turned his head and found that Xu Qing had also fallen asleep on the sofa at some point, his book slipping to the side, his glasses slightly sliding down his nose.

The last rays of the setting sun shone through the window, bathing him in a warm, golden glow, clearly illuminating even the tiny downy hairs on his face. He was deeply asleep, his breathing light and shallow.

Li Mo’s heart suddenly softened immensely. He cautiously leaned in, gently took off Xu Qing’s glasses, placing them on the coffee table. Then, like a thief, he quickly and lightly kissed Xu Qing on the forehead.

A touch-and-go kiss.

Xu Qing’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, but he didn’t wake up.

Li Mo held his breath for a few seconds. Seeing no reaction, he sighed in relief, a rush of smug, accomplished delight and immense satisfaction welling up in his heart. He sat back down on the rug, crossed his arms over the edge of the sofa, tilted his head, and quietly watched Xu Qing’s sleeping face.

Outside the window, the sound of a neighbor’s TV news, the clatter of woks and spatulas from cooking, and the faint sounds of children chasing and laughing could be heard. The scent of human life was strong.

And inside the house, there was a tranquil space that belonged only to them. There were finished test papers, a half-read book, a sleeping person, and a heart that was completely full and no longer adrift.

“Ding-a-ling-a-ling”

The peaceful atmosphere was broken by a phone call.

Li Mo felt annoyed. He picked up his phone and saw the contact name on the screen—Yu Wenxiu.

He hesitated whether to answer.

Logically, their family of three should be having fun in Sanya right now. Why would they suddenly remember their eldest son, who had virtually no presence?

Just as the call was about to automatically hang up, Li Mo pressed the connect button: “Hello… Mom.”

That single word, “Mom,” contained a mix of complex emotions.

On the other end, the background was noisy. After a while, Yu Wenxiu’s voice came through: “Why haven’t you accepted the New Year’s money?” Her tone was flat, even a bit stiff.

The red envelope had automatically been returned long ago, and Yu Wenxiu only found time to call Li Mo today.

Li Mo vaguely replied: “I’m a grown man. I don’t need New Year’s money… whether I accept it or not. Are you… having fun?”

He wanted to proactively mend the relationship between mother and son.

However, Yu Wenxiu didn’t reciprocate. She said coldly: “You know you’re grown up? Your eighteenth birthday is in two months, and you’re still throwing a tantrum over such a small thing.”

Li Mo instinctively clenched his phone, blood rushing to his head. He retorted sharply: “A small thing? Those things only count as small in your eyes?”

Yu Wenxiu also became angry: “Did your third grand-aunt and the others say anything that bad to you? And your dad, was he wrong to discipline you? Look at you that day, walking out on all those relatives. Where did you leave the family’s face?”

Li Mo’s knuckles turned white, and the phone case made a slight “creak” sound. He abruptly stood up from the rug, walked to the window in a few steps, turning his back on Xu Qing who was still asleep on the sofa. He lowered his voice, but couldn’t suppress the surging anger and grievance in his chest:

“Face? All you care about is face! Were those just ‘a few words’? They can call me a bad student, a hooligan, whatever they want, but why do they automatically group me with that father? And can Ye Zhong even be considered my dad?”

He choked up, the rest of the words stuck like stones in his throat.

Belatedly, he realized that the last sentence was a bit too much.

But the contemptuous looks of the relatives at the dinner table, the cold reprimands, saying he was “useless” and “a disgrace,” saying he was exactly like his cheating, abusive father—every word was like a poisoned needle, pricking his most sensitive and vulnerable spots.

And all of this, in Yu Wenxiu’s eyes, was just an inconsequential “small thing.”

“Li Mo!” Yu Wenxiu’s voice rose, carrying undeniable authority, genuinely angry and exasperated. “Let bygones be bygones! What family holds grudges overnight? How long are you going to keep throwing tantrums? Do you want our whole family to apologize to you? What has your current father done to you? Just because he said a few words?”

“I don’t need your apologies!” Li Mo almost roared, his temples throbbing. “I just wanted you to… just once, see things from my perspective!”

Silence fell on the other end of the line for a moment. When Yu Wenxiu spoke again, her tone was one of weary impatience: “How have I not considered you? Have I ever skimped on your food, clothes, or expenses? Since you were little, when have I not defended you? I worked hard to earn money, sent you to the best schools, hired the best teachers, isn’t that enough? Li Mo, you’re growing up, you’re not a child anymore. You should be sensible; stop being so willful!”

It was always like this. Always measuring everything with material things, always feeling that giving money was fulfilling her responsibility. Li Mo’s heart sank little by little, down to the bottom of an icy lake. He suddenly felt incredibly tired, lacking even the strength to argue.

He listened to the faint, cheerful shouts of Ye Jinlun and Ye Zhong’s gentle responses coming from the phone. The harmonious background noise was like tiny thorns, pricking his isolated eardrum.

“Fine,” Li Mo’s voice suddenly flattened, carrying an almost numb indifference. “You go enjoy yourselves. I’m fine. I’m hanging up.”

Without waiting for Yu Wenxiu to say anything else, he abruptly cut the call.

The room instantly returned to silence, save for his slightly heavy breathing.

He remained at the window, his back to the living room, watching the bustling crowds on the street below visiting relatives and friends, feeling an immense distance from all the liveliness. The heart that had just been warmed by the homework and companionship was now empty and cold, filled with a cross draft.

Suddenly, a slightly cool hand gently grasped his tightly clenched fist.

Li Mo froze and sharply turned around.

Xu Qing had woken up at some point and was standing right behind him. His face still held the haze of just waking up, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses, yet his eyes were clear and calm.

He didn’t ask “What’s wrong?” nor did he offer any comforting words. He simply and firmly pried open Li Mo’s tightly clenched fingers, which had nails almost digging into his palm, and then intertwined their fingers.

The warmth from his palm slowly transferred over. It wasn’t scorching like fire but like warm jade, steadily soothing his icy skin and restless nerves.

Li Mo looked at his serene eyes. There was no pity, no curiosity, only the silent companionship of “I am here.” The indifference and hardness he had fiercely maintained collapsed at that moment. His nose stung. He abruptly lowered his head, resting his forehead against Xu Qing’s lean shoulder, and said hoarsely:

“…They’re always like this.”

Xu Qing raised his other free hand and gently patted his back, like comforting a small beast that had put up its sharp defenses after being hurt but was now finally willing to show its soft underside.

“Mhm,” he responded, indicating he was listening.

“She says I’m willful… says I’m not sensible…” Li Mo’s voice was muffled, with suppressed sobs. “But I just… I just wanted them to…”

Wanted them to do what? Say a fair word? Show a stance of protection? Give a little bit of… genuine care?

He couldn’t say it out loud. It felt too extravagant, too sentimental.

Yet, Yu Wenxiu hadn’t always been like this before.

Is love really such an unequal scale?

Xu Qing listened quietly. After Li Mo finished his fragmented, incoherent account, he spoke calmly, his voice low but clearly ringing in Li Mo’s ear: “You are good.”

Not “Don’t be sad,” not “They are wrong,” but simply three words: You are good.

Li Mo’s whole body trembled, and he pressed his forehead harder against Xu Qing’s shoulder.

Xu Qing paused, then continued in his characteristic, unperturbed yet certain tone: “You made good dumplings, you solved the problem quickly,” he even added, “and you ate the apple cleanly too.”

The last sentence, with its almost clumsy seriousness, almost made Li Mo laugh, but his eyes grew warmer instead. He knew this was Xu Qing’s way of telling him: your worth doesn’t need to be judged by those who don’t understand you.

See, you made edible dumplings, you solved a difficult problem, and you didn’t even waste food.

You are good. I see it.

Li Mo lifted his head, his eyes and nose red, like a big child who had been wronged. He looked at Xu Qing, then suddenly extended both arms and hugged him tightly, burying his face in his neck, greedily inhaling the clean, cool scent that brought him peace.

“Xu Qing…” he called his name in a muffled voice.

“Mhm.”

“Here is still the best.”

“Mhm.”

“From now on… we’ll spend every New Year together.”

“Okay.”

The clamor outside continued, but this time, Li Mo no longer felt disconnected from it. Because he had found a more real, warmer world, right by this person’s side, in this small, shared haven they had built.

He held the person in his arms tightly, as if holding the entire world’s center of gravity.