The Long Night - Chapter 17

After that day, it was as if an unspoken agreement had formed between them. The response to every “I like you” wasn’t “I like you, too,” but rather, “I like you more.”

The confession and the acceptance happened as a matter of course.

Yan Liao also pretended to casually mention that “there was no upperclassman from the Chinese painting department after all.” Thinking about these things much later, it all seemed so funny. They were such obvious truths, yet they had caused both of them a great deal of trouble at the time.

After a little more than half a month had passed, Yan Liao remembered to ask a very important question.

“Why do you like me?”

In the previous life, it was Tang Shaocheng who had asked this question. But back then, they were two adults in their twenties, and he didn’t use a youthful word like “like.” He had asked, “Why do you love me?”

Yan Liao didn’t have to think for long before giving his answer.

“I started loving you the first time I saw you. So, I guess it’s a primal instinct of my soul.”

And so, in a time that was neither “before” nor “after,” the leaves stirred by the breeze were like fragments of time, and their voices from different timelines seemed to overlap. Tang Shaocheng slowly said, “It’s a primal instinct of my soul.”

“…”

Yan Liao was startled and astonished, his face flushing. It took him a long time to just say, “Ah.”

He looked at the curve of Tang Shaocheng’s mouth and silently clenched his fists, angrily and incoherently sputtering, “But, but you… that’s not right… it’s… not.”

“Do you not think I like you enough?”

Tang Shaocheng put a hand on the back of his neck and squeezed it twice, like he was comforting a kitten.

Yan Liao tilted his face up. “If you like me, then why didn’t you let me know sooner?”

He seemed to have a point.

Tang Shaocheng raised an eyebrow, wanting to say, “You didn’t let me know so early either.” His hand moved to Yan Liao’s cheek, giving it a light pinch, his voice filled with a happy laugh. “It’s not too late,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure you know I like you every day from now on.”

“…I will, too.”

Yan Liao grabbed Tang Shaocheng’s wrist, then changed his mind and took his hand. He pushed each of his fingers through the gaps between Tang Shaocheng’s fingers, holding him very tightly.

The temperature dropped sharply this year even before the start of winter. All kinds of colored down jackets could be seen everywhere on campus.

The biting wind felt like it was slicing his face. “Going outside feels like getting plastic surgery,” Yan Liao heard a girl whisper behind him in class. The comparison made him chuckle.

The girls were surprised when they saw him smile. “Why are you always so happy, Yan Liao?”

“Am I?”

He manually pressed down the corners of his mouth, reverting to his cool expression.

Besides being very mindful of his facial expression, a person who wants to be cool also needs to be resistant to the cold. Even with the temperature dropping to zero degrees Celsius, Yan Liao only wore a thin jacket. He also refused to wear hats, scarves, and gloves—things that looked silly to him.

However, he wore the wool hat that Tang Shaocheng gave him the very next day.

There was a small white pom-pom on top of the hat. His classmates teased him about it for a long time before class started, but Yan Liao said with a straight face, “You don’t understand fashion. This looks good.”

Tang Shaocheng, on the other hand, looked trim even in his down jacket. Standing in the winter sunlight, he was like a tall, straight cedar tree. He looked up and saw Yan Liao two stories above him, his gaze long and gentle.

So, when the bell rang for the end of class, Yan Liao was the first to rush out of the classroom.

Before his mouth could turn up in a smile, his eyes would crinkle in a laugh.

It was hard not to “always be happy.” There was no way to keep up the cool guy act anymore.

After about half a month of campus romance, Yan Liao was no longer content with the status quo. When they were about to part ways outside his dorm, he grabbed Tang Shaocheng’s hand and asked, “Anyway, this semester’s classes are almost over. How about we live off-campus?”

“I’ve been painting, and I’ve saved up some money.” He had been planning this for a long time. The streetlights shone in his eyes like stars. “A lot of my classmates are renting places off-campus.”

Tang Shaocheng had also been thinking about moving out of the dorm. He quickly contacted a real estate agent, and it only took a few days to find a place and sign a contract.

They found a two-bedroom apartment in a complex next to the school. One room would be the bedroom and the other a study. At over sixty square meters, the price was also very reasonable.

The previous tenant had left a few pieces of furniture. Over a weekend, they went to a market and bought some new appliances and daily necessities. In less than two weeks, the empty apartment was filled again.

It was slowly becoming their complete little home, a “cozy harbor” as described in language arts textbooks.

Tang Shaocheng had his law firm internship in the afternoon, so he could only eat lunch with Yan Liao. As they were walking to the cafeteria, someone who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere stopped them.

The person was carrying a stack of flyers and enthusiastically promoted, “The Skateboarding Club is recruiting! Students, are you interested in…”

“No.”

Yan Liao rudely cut him off before he could finish, not even bothering to lift his eyelids. The flyer was thrust so close, almost to his nose, that he had to take it impatiently.

When he looked up, he was startled. The person was wearing a white skirt and had very long hair. Their face was as small as a palm, with drawn-on eyelashes and eyeliner, making them look like a girl.

But they had an Adam’s apple.

“Are you a guy?”

Yan Liao asked bluntly without much thought. The person’s expression became awkward. They mumbled and didn’t say anything. Yan Liao glanced at the card on their chest. “Chen Si-tiao.” He had some recollection of hearing a classmate casually mention that there was a guy in this class who liked to wear women’s clothing.

“I… Students, you know, our club also welcomes people with no experience.” Chen Si-tiao’s face flushed then turned pale. In his embarrassment and nervousness, he subconsciously pursed his lips into a smile. He noticed his odd expression and finally returned to the topic of the skateboarding club.

Tang Shaocheng frowned. He suddenly grabbed Yan Liao’s wrist and gave it a discreet squeeze.

Yan Liao thought he was being urged to leave. He tried to hand the flyer back. “Forget it. I’m not interested.”

Chen Si-tiao hadn’t reacted, forgetting to reach out and take it. The colorful flyer spun and drifted to the ground.

Yan Liao was about to walk away, but Tang Shaocheng’s grip on his hand didn’t loosen, forcing him to stop.

“Pick it up.”

Seeing that he hadn’t moved, Tang Shaocheng repeated himself. This time, his expression was still good-natured, and his voice wasn’t too stern.

So Yan Liao didn’t take it seriously, and he asked, bewildered, “Why do I have to pick it up?”

“I’ll pick it up, I’ll pick it up,” Chen Si-tiao quickly crouched down and picked up the flyer. When he stood up again, he bowed apologetically. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Tang Shaocheng politely took the dirty flyer. His gaze then shifted to Yan Liao, his face now a little hard, and his voice growing serious. “Yan Liao, apologize.”

“Apologize to him?” Yan Liao’s expression was as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why should I?”

“Apologize for what you said.”

Tang Shaocheng’s brows were tightly furrowed. He stared at him with a stern expression, his voice as cold as ice, allowing no room for argument.

Dust motes floated quietly in the sunlight. A startled gaze and a cold one crossed paths in the air, like two silent undercurrents colliding in the deep sea.

The anger seemed to come from nowhere, like a tsunami without warning, and it was too late to control it.

“I was already being very polite,” Yan Liao bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. His dark eyes seemed to hold a hidden fire. “Freak, pansy, sissy,” he said, raising his eyebrows in a challenge, his words painfully clear. “I didn’t say any of those things just now.”

It was as if an alcohol lamp had ignited his chest, fueling his anger. There was also an indescribable feeling of grievance, like a moist, salty wad of cotton stuck in his throat.

“Do you know what you’re saying?”

Tang Shaocheng gripped his wrist. The force was so great that the skin there turned red. His unquestionable gaze was as taut as a bowstring. “Apologize.”

“Apologize now.”

This seemed to be the first time he had ever spoken to him in such a cold tone, using his full name.

Both of their expressions and moods were at their worst.

Chen Si-tiao held the flyers, his face full of regret and self-blame. He tried to mediate in a low voice. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. It’s fine.” He was used to those names.

“Fine,” Yan Liao quickly wiped away the tears that were about to overflow. “I’m sorry,” he glared fiercely at Chen Si-tiao. “Is that good enough? Can I go now?”

“Y-yes, you can…”

The moment the force on his wrist was released, Yan Liao immediately pulled his arm away and walked forward with a determined stride. His black silhouette was a blur in the backlighting. Tang Shaocheng pursed his lips and stayed where he was, not chasing after him.

Chen Si-tiao looked awkward and humiliated, and even a little afraid that Yan Liao would retaliate against him.

“I’m sorry,” Tang Shaocheng patted Chen Si-tiao’s shoulder, his voice a little weary. “What he said today was too much.”

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s really okay…”

…

Yan Liao ran to the cafeteria, then turned around to look back, only to realize that no one had followed him.

The tears he had held back in his eyes immediately poured out like a flood. Both of his eyes were like broken faucets, no matter how much he wiped away the tears, he couldn’t stop crying.

The cold wind blew against his damp face, and his eyes felt like they were being pricked with sharp needles. A stinging sensation.

A while later, Tang Shaocheng sent Yan Liao a message saying that he was going straight to the law firm and that Yan Liao should eat by himself.

Throughout the afternoon, Tang Shaocheng was preoccupied. He sat at his desk, unscrewing and screwing the pen cap, not even noticing the marks it was leaving on his fingers.

It seemed that Yan Liao had been like this when he first met him six months ago, but with the college entrance exams approaching, he didn’t have the time or energy to deal with his social problems.

Tang Shaocheng had always felt that Yan Liao was still young and needed enough room to grow freely. However, after the heavy schoolwork of high school was over, other problems, like an iceberg hidden beneath the sea, slowly surfaced.

He suddenly realized that even in his twenties, Yan Liao had not been good at handling his social relationships.

He would only show the kind side of his personality to people he liked or had a crush on, but even then, he often had no sense of proportion. He would frequently offend friends by saying inappropriate things, driving away those who were close to him, and then pretend not to care.

Only those who could put up with him could get close to him.

He had few close relationships. When the incident happened, Ge Dong-lin came to see him but was unceremoniously chased away.

In those few years when he was bedridden, he would often say cruel things to Tang Shaocheng, as if he couldn’t wait to be left to fend for himself.

Even with the “kidnapping incident,” the suspects were all colleagues with whom Yan Liao had conflicts, and there was more than one. But at the time, no one would blame a disabled person for “not being a perfect victim.”

Tang Shaocheng frowned, reviewing everything in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that it was very necessary to do something now.

The setting sun painted the city with a color of stillness.

When he got home that night, Yan Liao was still very upset.

He leaned against the sofa. Tang Shaocheng pulled up a chair and sat across from him. He kept his temper in check and asked in a gentle voice, “Did you not like the person we met today?”

Yan Liao glanced at him and let out a cold snort from his nose. “No, I didn’t. You, on the other hand, seemed to like him very much.”

Tang Shaocheng automatically ignored the second half of his sentence, treating it as a sulky remark. He still asked patiently, “Why not?”

“Why would a guy wear a skirt?” Yan Liao sneered. “He’s like a pervert.”