Resisting Arranged Marriages: Starting with Myself - Chapter 8

Ye Jiming held Le Xiao for a full two or three minutes before he was willing to let go. Once the two separated, Le Xiao lowered his head and panted heavily, as if he had just survived a breathtaking catastrophe.

Several more minutes passed before Le Xiao finally regained his composure, and the monitors on their wrists, which had been chiming incessantly, finally fell silent.

However, when he quietly touched his own face, it still felt scalding. He feared he looked like a red-faced general straight out of a traditional opera.

Ye Jiming, showing perfect restraint, stopped teasing him and smiled. “The next step is wax painting, Xiao Xiao. Do you want to try?”

Wax painting, as the name suggests, involves using liquid wax to draw designs on fabric. During the subsequent dyeing process, the waxed areas will not be colored, eventually revealing beautiful blue and white patterns.

Le Xiao struggled to calm his turbulent emotions and, pretending as if nothing had happened, said, “I will give it a try.”

He picked up a nearby wax knife and dipped it into the melted wax to draw on the cloth. The wax knife was somewhat similar to a utility blade used for crafts, featuring a long handle connected to a fan-shaped blunt blade. By dipping the edge of the blade into the wax, the liquid followed the trajectory of the knife across the fabric.

When the teacher demonstrated it earlier, Le Xiao thought the process looked fascinating. Now that they had reached this stage, he was eager to begin.

However, every profession has its specialties. While wax painting looked simple and fun, it also required significant skill.

As Ye Jiming and Le Xiao each held a wax knife and lowered their heads to trace the patterns, Le Xiao could be heard making occasional hissing sounds, looking very much like a tense little snake.

Ye Jiming pressed his lips together, forcing his smile into a straight line to hide his amusement.

“Hey, it went crooked again!” Le Xiao looked up, putting down his wax knife in frustration. “It looks so ugly.”

Ye Jiming leaned toward Le Xiao and smiled, gently ruffling his hair to comfort him. “It is your first time. You have already drawn it very well.”

In truth, for a beginner, Le Xiao’s work was quite good. There were no messy lines or obvious blunders. It was simply that, as a first-timer, he had not yet mastered the pressure and the amount of wax, leading to some uneven strokes.

“Here, I cannot maintain the direction while drawing; it keeps going crooked,” Le Xiao said dejectedly, pointing at a spiral pattern. “It is your fault for choosing such a complicated design.”

“Let me try,” Ye Jiming said, smiling as he accepted the baseless blame. He took the wax knife and began to trace one of the spirals.

His pace was slow, but his hand was incredibly steady. The weight of his touch, the curve of the turns, and the amount of wax were all perfectly controlled. As he drew further inward and the circles grew smaller, he became even more cautious, eventually using only the very tip of the blade to finish the detail.

After finishing one, he turned to ask for Le Xiao’s opinion. “Is this one alright?”

Indeed, the circle was nearly perfect. The pressure was even, the lines were smooth and flat, and there was not a single mistake.

“Your hand is so steady,” Le Xiao praised sincerely. He then looked at his own work with a sense of disappointment. “My hand always shakes.” In reality, it was not nearly as bad as Le Xiao thought; he was simply dissatisfied with himself.

“Try drawing another one,” Ye Jiming said with a smile, handing the knife back to him. “It already looks very beautiful.”

Le Xiao took the knife reluctantly and dipped it in the wax, muttering, “It still will not be as perfect as yours.”

The moment the wax knife touched the fabric, Ye Jiming’s hand reached out from behind him and firmly covered his hand.

Le Xiao nearly dropped the knife in surprise. Just as he was about to turn around, Ye Jiming’s voice sounded in his ear. “Do not move. Follow my rhythm, slowly.”

Ye Jiming’s hand was much larger than Le Xiao’s, and Le Xiao’s hand felt as small as a toy inside his palm.

A steady warmth radiated from Ye Jiming’s palm into the back of his hand. Le Xiao could almost feel the lines of the other man’s palm.

His hand was powerful and warm, like a solid, reliable harbor or a strong, reassuring shield. He held Le Xiao’s hand firmly, and the shaking vanished completely. Every stroke became even, smooth, and precise.

The monitor began to wail again, but Le Xiao no longer had the capacity to care.

After they finished drawing a circle, Ye Jiming finally released his hand and smiled. “See? Was that not drawn well?”

“Just like that, keep your heart quiet and your hand steady. It is not hard to draw,” he added. He then turned back to his own section as if the previous interlude had only been a storm in Le Xiao’s mind.

Le Xiao stared intently at Ye Jiming’s back, his gaze seemingly strong enough to burn a hole through it. However, Ye Jiming appeared completely oblivious, keeping his head down and focusing on his work without a single extra glance.

Le Xiao opened and closed his mouth several times but could not find a single word to say. Finally, he gave Ye Jiming a deep glare and lowered his head to continue drawing.

He gripped the wax knife, slowly recalling the sensation of Ye Jiming holding his hand. He remembered the pressure, the speed, and the movement of the turns. As he explored these feelings, he gradually found the knack for it, and his drawing became increasingly fluid.

Seeing that Le Xiao was immersed in his own world, Ye Jiming finally stole a glance at him. Le Xiao thought he was unaware, but only Ye Jiming knew that from the moment he held Le Xiao’s hand, the monitor on his wrist had not stopped vibrating.

He became lost in thought while watching Le Xiao, and for a split second, the wax knife in his hand lost control and veered off course.

He quickly withdrew his gaze and looked with amusement at the stray line of wax on the fabric. It was his first mistake so far.

After taking a few deep breaths, he finally regained his focus and resumed his work. On the other side, Le Xiao had also gotten the hang of it, drawing faster and better.

Both of them entered a state of flow. For a while, the only sounds in the quiet courtyard were the rustling of leaves in the wind and their shallow breathing.

Before long, both put down their wax knives at nearly the same time. All the patterns were finished.

The next step was dyeing.

Indigo and White

The dye had been prepared in advance. They only needed to skim off the blue floral foam floating on the surface and then submerge the patterned fabric to ensure it was soaked evenly. Le Xiao enthusiastically dipped the shirt into the dye vat and pulled it out once it was fully saturated. The fabric dripped with greenish-blue water, and Le Xiao’s forearms were stained blue, looking as if he were wearing a pair of gloves.

“Why is it not blue?” He stared at the dripping shirt, looking it over. “Could there be a problem with one of the steps?”

Compared to the finished products they had seen earlier, the freshly dyed shirt did indeed look more green than pure deep blue. Ye Jiming explained, “The teacher said earlier that the dye needs to fully oxidize before it turns blue. Let us wait and see.”

Le Xiao nodded and hung the dripping shirt on the clothesline to dry naturally. He then looked down at his own blue-stained hands.

And then, he subconsciously rubbed them against his T-shirt.

“Xiao Xiao!” Ye Jiming tried to stop him, but it was too late. Le Xiao was wearing a pure white cotton T-shirt today, and now there were two blue handprints on his waist.

“Oh, I forgot,” Le Xiao realized, laughing awkwardly. “When I was a kid and got grease on my hands, I would always secretly rub them on my clothes. My mom scolded me, but it never worked. Over the years, it just became a habit.”

He looked at the two handprints on his waist and asked, “Can this still be washed off?”

“Probably not,” Ye Jiming said with a laugh. “It is fine. It is just a T-shirt. This way, it is quite a nice souvenir.”

“Alright.” Le Xiao was also amused by his own mistake. Then, as if he had thought of something, he pulled Ye Jiming toward the dye vat.

He grabbed Ye Jiming’s hands and submerged them both into the vat. Ye Jiming, confused, tried to pull back, but Le Xiao held his hands firmly underwater. He stopped struggling and watched Le Xiao’s eyes. For a moment, the four fair forearms submerged in the dye vat were strangely eye-catching.

After a while, Le Xiao touched him gently underwater, signaling that they could take their hands out. Now, both of their forearms were dyed a greenish-blue, with dye still dripping down. They looked like a pair of aliens.

“Now we have become Avatars,” Ye Jiming said, looking at his arms and laughing.

He thought it was just Le Xiao’s childish nature, wanting Ye Jiming to be stained since he was. Just as he was about to look for a towel to dry off, he suddenly heard Le Xiao say, “Let us have an embrace.”

“What?” For a moment, Ye Jiming doubted his ears. His brain briefly stalled.

“An embrace.” Saying it once was impulsive, so he did not feel awkward, but repeating it made him feel a late-coming sense of embarrassment.

Le Xiao grinned and explained, “My band always does this. Before every concert, we paint our arms and then hug each other so that we leave handprints on the backs of our T-shirts.”

“I think it is quite meaningful, so…” His voice grew smaller and smaller until it was barely a whisper.

Ye Jiming understood and smiled so broadly his eyes squinted. “Then let us embrace.”

With that, he took a step forward and pulled Le Xiao into his arms. He wrapped his hands tightly around Le Xiao’s slender waist, as if he wanted to do more than just leave dye on the T-shirt; he wanted to let it touch the skin, blend into the blood, and eventually be carved into the bone. Le Xiao was held so tightly he could barely breathe, but he did not resist. Instead, he placed his arms on Ye Jiming’s back and hugged him back. The warmth of the skin and the scent of mint leaves and dye felt like a gentle paradise tailored specifically for him, making him unwilling to let go.

The monitor beeped dutifully for a full half-minute before Ye Jiming reluctantly let go.

Pretending not to hear the beep-beep of the alarm, he walked behind Le Xiao with feigned nonchalance. “Good, the dye is very even.”

“Is that so?” The awkwardness of the situation and the blush creeping up his cheeks finally arrived. Le Xiao was like a late-blooming child finally realizing something for the first time, responding with a clumsy, dull stammer.

After speaking, his face flushed red as he ran quickly to stand in front of the hanging shirt, fanning it to help it dry faster. His back was to Ye Jiming, and the two symmetrical blue handprints on his waist were strikingly clear.

Under the bright sun, the clothes dried quickly. By the time the shirt was dry, the greenish dye had completely oxidized into a pure deep blue.

“It is so beautiful.” Le Xiao looked the clothes over, unable to put them down.

The next step was de-waxing, which was the final stage of batik production. Wax has a low melting point, so by boiling the dyed clothes in hot water, the previously drawn wax would automatically melt away, revealing the original white of the fabric and the beautiful patterns.

The de-waxed shirt was hung back on the clothesline to dry. Now it was the final product, still dripping water. Le Xiao and Ye Jiming stood before it, looking as proud as parents watching a child grow up.

“This is much more beautiful than I imagined!” Le Xiao said, his smile widening. “Ours must be the most beautiful one!”

His face, slightly flushed with excitement, looked as innocent and lovely as a child to Ye Jiming. He smiled and pushed up his glasses. “What did you think it would look like?”

Le Xiao shrugged. “I do not know. I just did not expect the color to be so beautiful, and the patterns look great too.”

The two chatted casually until the sun began to set in the west. The horizon looked as if it had been set on fire, and the white clouds were dyed a brilliant gold by the flames. The golden sun slowly descended, sinking behind the clouds and leaving only rays of light shining through the gaps.

A gentle evening breeze caught the deep blue shirt. As night fell, the shirt finally dried. Le Xiao put the newly made shirt over his white T-shirt and, hooking his finger with Ye Jiming’s, walked toward the courtyard of the homestay.

The night wind blew the deep blue garment, and the patterns on the hem fluttered in the breeze like ripples dancing on water.

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