The Long Night - Chapter 26

It suddenly poured in the evening.

Outside the window, storm clouds billowed, and lightning flashed intermittently, causing trees to sway. Their afternoon outing was canceled, leaving the two of them stuck at the hotel. Just then, Li Yiyun called with some last-minute work assignments.

No matter where he went, Tang Shaocheng always brought his laptop. As he typed on the keyboard, Yan Liao lay beside his leg, growing more and more bored watching words he recognized but couldn’t understand when they were put together.

The heavy rain outside was hypnotic. Yan Liao struggled to keep his eyes open, his voice soft and fuzzy, but he insisted on talking. He nudged his head against Tang Shaocheng’s stomach, pressing against the soft pajamas, and complained in a low voice, “Are you done yet?”

Tang Shaocheng pulled Yan Liao’s head into his arms, his fingers gently massaging the soft black hair. “You should get some sleep first.”

“I’ll wait for you, so we can sleep together.”

Yan Liao climbed up and hugged him from behind, his chest against Tang Shaocheng’s back, and nuzzled his chin into the man’s shoulder. The message was clear: stop working and spend time with him.

“Want a kiss?”

Yan Liao lowered his head, and Tang Shaocheng bit his earlobe, gently grinding with his teeth. Yan Liao whimpered, his voice trembling slightly, and his dark, moist eyes misted over.

He hadn’t even done anything yet but blurted out, “I can’t take it. I’m going to die.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Tang Shaocheng freed a hand to touch Yan Liao’s face, while his other hand closed the laptop and set it aside. Yan Liao expertly straddled his lap and tilted his head up to kiss him from his nose to his lips.

Tang Shaocheng’s fingers stroked his neck, finding the spot where his carotid artery pulsed. Yan Liao shivered violently, his legs tensing up. “Relax.” The warm palm rested against the cool skin, and Yan Liao’s face flushed hot. He broke out in a thin sweat, rolled off to the side, hugging the comforter, his throat bobbing. “I have to go back for class tonight.”

He flirted, then ran away. Tang Shaocheng, both amused and annoyed, patted his butt. “Just lie down and get some more sleep.”

The last two days they were together, they didn’t pursue much on an emotional level. Yan Liao’s legs were weak as he walked down the stairs.

Tang Shaocheng had been in a good mood the last two days, and his usual accommodating nature was even more indulgent. Yan Liao was also quick to take advantage, with the proportion of his “sweet talk” skyrocketing, and he was glued to Tang Shaocheng’s side.

This continued until the day Tang Shaocheng was leaving.

Yan Liao repeated like a broken record, “I miss you.”

Tang Shaocheng stroked his head. “I haven’t even left yet.”

“I miss you every second.” Yan Liao drew out his words. They were sitting on a bench in the departure lounge next to a charging station. A few people were standing and charging their phones, and one guy was calling his “baby” in a mushy voice while tapping on the screen.

Yan Liao squeezed Tang Shaocheng’s fingers and, as if struck by inspiration, said, “Baby.”

“… Hmm?”

Yan Liao pursed his lips and smiled. He called him again, “Baby.” He became more pleased with himself as he said it. “Baby, call me as soon as you land.”

The corners of Tang Shaocheng’s mouth curved upward. “Okay, baby.”

It seemed like all the star-crossed lovers in the world were at the airport. A couple next to them hadn’t stopped kissing, treating the lounge like a hotel room.

Yan Liao suddenly felt rebellious. He didn’t want to be like others, so he put his hands in his pockets, even though he wanted a hug. Tang Shaocheng saw the look on his face and knew he was acting difficult again. He took the initiative to hug him. “Let me know when you get back to school, too.”

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the wind was blowing the clouds across the blue sky.

Leaving home had never felt this sad. When he started college with Tang Shaocheng last September, he was only filled with anticipation for freedom and a dramatic sense of two people relying on each other. But now, as they were separating at the airport, Yan Liao couldn’t help but cry. He pressed his lips together tightly, but his eyes still grew redder. Tang Shaocheng rubbed the skin under his eyes with his index finger, then gently caressed his cheek, trying to lighten his mood with a joke. “You love crying so much?”

“I’m not crying.” Yan Liao quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Come here,” Tang Shaocheng said, opening his arms again. “Be good.”

This time, he didn’t hesitate and stepped forward to hug the man tightly.

The boarding announcement was made. Tang Shaocheng walked toward the security checkpoint, the winding blue barriers separating them.

Yan Liao stood still, his legs feeling a little stiff. He watched Tang Shaocheng’s back slowly disappear into a blurry dot in the crowd, then stared at the distant spot where he could no longer be seen for a long time. An unfamiliar emotion ran through his body; his chest felt hollow, a sense of loneliness washing over him.

Fine dust motes floated in the dim light, and the hazy glow rose like a tide.

He returned to school alone, not wanting to do anything. He lay on his dorm bed. Tang Shaocheng had bought the sheets, and they had been dried outside, smelling of warm sunshine. In the dead of night, he opened his phone. The WeChat chat was a sea of green, all messages from him, stretching out like a vast, desolate grassland. Tang Shaocheng was on the plane by now. Yan Liao tilted his head to look at the clear blue sky outside the window but still felt so far away. As far as Antarctica from the Arctic Ocean.

Tang Shaocheng’s time was mostly taken up by work and social engagements. He occasionally went to the gym. This semester, he was busier with school matters, leading Li Qiaohai and others in the University Innovation and Entrepreneurship Competition. Even at the project proposal stage, he was swamped. His adviser was the strictest professor in the department, overly dedicated and responsible. A single proposal would be sent back hundreds of times with no feedback, just a demand to rewrite it.

And he still had to make time to check in with Yan Liao every day.

They hadn’t seen each other in over two weeks, and they had a video call every night, but it wasn’t the same as living together. When they couldn’t touch each other, they relied on their imaginations, which created an even more unique kind of magnetism.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Yan Liao sent hundreds of “I miss you” and “I love you” messages every day. He’d never had a passionate relationship like this in his life; kids just had more energy, in every aspect. One night on the phone, without any preamble, Yan Liao blurted out, “I’m hard.” The wind rustled the leaves outside the window, and Tang Shaocheng on the other end of the line couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, go take care of that in the bathroom?”

Yan Liao groaned vaguely, mumbling in a low voice, “I need you to help me.”

Tang Shaocheng leaned back. It was a good thing Yan Liao was living in the dorms now; otherwise, he didn’t know what he’d get sent in the middle of the night. How did he grow up to be such a hooligan right under his nose? It was baffling.

Yan Liao still didn’t know his roommates’ names. He didn’t go out with classmates after class, spending all his time on his phone, texting and calling.

He still hadn’t adjusted after half a month of school. He hadn’t even cried from homesickness when he first started college, but now, whenever he said “I miss you,” tears flowed as if it were a natural phenomenon.

He cried so hard that day he felt his breathing become unbalanced, his shoulders still twitching. He let out a hiccup, and the mood shifted from sad to a little funny. Tang Shaocheng was typing on the keyboard with one hand, working on his project proposal, and he asked him helplessly why he had become so emotional.

The sun was slowly disappearing below the horizon. The evening wind was cool and humid; you could feel the tiny water droplets floating in the air.

Yan Liao squatted under a flowerbed, his fingers stroking the damp, soft grass blades. He whispered, “I dreamed about you two nights in a row.”

Tang Shaocheng’s heart softened. He was about to say something sweet to comfort him when he heard a clear voice in the background, “Yan Liao, are you hiding here smoking again?” He couldn’t hear the rest, as the microphone was hurriedly covered. Tang Shaocheng narrowed his eyes, considering the word “again.” “Yan Liao?”

“I put it out,” Yan Liao said, a chill running down his back. He dutifully extinguished the burning cigarette, knowing Tang Shaocheng couldn’t see him, and held the phone. “Don’t be mad.”

“Okay,” Tang Shaocheng said. “How’s class been lately?”

“It’s alright.” Yan Liao picked at his fingers. “The teacher likes to speak in dialect, and I can’t understand what he’s saying.”

He didn’t seem to care much, deliberately lowering his voice to sound pitiful and earn sympathy.

Tang Shaocheng frowned. Economically developed areas often have some level of exclusivity, and he had experienced it himself. Over the phone, he comforted Yan Liao, telling him the teacher wasn’t professional enough and that he shouldn’t take it to heart. He also suggested he go out and explore, and he mentioned some good restaurants near the school. Yan Liao held the phone, surprised. “How did you know? My senior sister said that place is really good too.”

“You’ve already met a senior sister?”

Yan Liao said, “Ay,” “Don’t be jealous. You’re the only baby I have.”

Tang Shaocheng laughed along. He wanted to ask how his relationship with his roommates and classmates was and suggest he treat them to a meal sometime, but thinking about Yan Liao’s personality, he decided against it. Forget making friends; it would be good enough if he just avoided conflict.

September had already passed a dozen days in the blink of an eye.

Tang Shaocheng’s birthday was approaching. From the moment he decided to go back, Yan Liao couldn’t stop talking about it. He had originally planned it as a surprise but couldn’t keep it to himself.

They had only been apart for half a month.

“Is it worth the trouble of traveling all that way, just for my birthday?” Tang Shaocheng said over the phone, but his voice and tone sounded happy.

Yan Liao hummed cheerfully, “And to sleep with you.”

“Can’t you ever be serious?”

The person on the other end of the line smoothly replied, “Then, is it okay if it’s so you can sleep with me?”

Tang Shaocheng switched hands on the phone and glanced at the tent pitched under his blanket. This kind of thing was contagious. He told himself it was just because his physical fitness was so good.

After the plane landed, there was a long bridge to walk, followed by a shuttle to the baggage claim. It took a while to get from the plane to the terminal.

Yan Liao had been on the phone with Tang Shaocheng since he got off the plane, reporting his every move and asking, “Do you miss me?” every three seconds, as if it were a comma. Tang Shaocheng stood at the very front of the crowd waiting to pick people up, ensuring “you’ll see me the moment you walk out.” In reality, he saw Yan Liao first.

Maybe it had been too long since they’d last seen each other, but the boy looked thinner. That’s what it felt like when you saw a person you missed dearly, their body looking a little gaunt; it was a squeezing sensation in the heart. Yan Liao ran up to him and threw himself into his arms. Tang Shaocheng heard a muffled voice from his chest, “I missed you so much.”

“Running so fast, aren’t you tired?” Tang Shaocheng stroked his back and took the handle of the suitcase. Seeing him still looking so lively, like a little sparrow, he felt a little relieved.

When they got back to the house, it was already getting dark.

Yan Liao was in the bathroom, and through the frosted glass, Tang Shaocheng could see the warm yellow light and a blurry silhouette. The sound of water stopped after a few minutes. Yan Liao opened the door, his face flushed red from the steam. He hadn’t finished washing. He stood soaking wet behind the door. “I’m so tired.” Water dripped from his eyelashes. “Can you help me wash?”

Tang Shaocheng said, “Mm,” “I’ll go grab a stool.”

The bathroom was filled with misty steam. Yan Liao sat on the stool, his head looking like it was topped with whipped cream. Tang Shaocheng patiently rubbed the white foam into his hair. Yan Liao closed his eyes, listening to the rushing water and the soft sound of Tang Shaocheng’s fingers massaging his scalp, a comfortable tingling sensation spreading across his skin.

“All done,” Tang Shaocheng said, washing his hands. “Make sure you dry off before you come out.”

“… Wait.”

Yan Liao came over and hugged his legs, a very natural posture. Tang Shaocheng turned around. His hand touched Yan Liao’s face and moved back, from his soft, wet black hair to his long neck, then gently pressing the back of his head, bringing him in closer.

…

His jaw was a little sore when he came out of the bathroom.

They went to bed early that night.

Yan Liao had set an alarm. He thought he’d be too excited to sleep, but he was tired from a day of travel. Lying next to Tang Shaocheng, he quickly fell into a deep sleep. It wasn’t the midnight alarm that woke him up but a knock on the door ten minutes earlier.

Yan Liao groggily opened his sleepy eyes. The person next to him looked a little confused. He suddenly remembered something and got out of bed first, shouting, “Coming, coming!” as he ran to the living room. Tang Shaocheng was dazed for a moment; his mind hadn’t fully woken up, but his voice did. “Button up your shirt.”

The delivery platforms were closed. This cake shop had its own delivery service, and the delivery was scheduled for 11:50, not a minute early or late.

Yan Liao carefully held the cake. He had thoughtfully bought his own favorite matcha flavor. He walked silently on the floor in his socks. Tang Shaocheng nagged, “Put on your slippers.”

Being woken up at midnight for a birthday was a magical experience.

Yan Liao put the candles one by one on the cake and used a lighter to light them. The warm, bright candlelight reflected on Tang Shaocheng’s face, softening his sharp features.

“What’s your wish?”

“Hmm?” Tang Shaocheng’s gaze shifted from the flickering candlelight to a pair of overly bright eyes. He looked at him for a moment and was about to speak when Yan Liao, as if reading his mind, put his index finger to his lips. “It can only be about you.”

He knew Tang Shaocheng would say something like, “I hope Yan Liao…” It was a formulaic opening for wishes.

Tang Shaocheng glanced at him with a smile. “Then what did you wish for on your birthday last year?”

Yan Liao blushed a little. “To be together forever” was still about him, wasn’t it? Tang Shaocheng, coerced and cajoled, wished for himself and Yan Liao to be healthy. He couldn’t help but smile as he blew out the candles, as if saying it out loud would make it come true.

Tang Shaocheng cut the cake and put it on a small plate, his finger naturally smearing some frosting on Yan Liao’s face. Yan Liao squinted, grabbed his wrist, and licked the frosting off his hand, then kissed each finger from his thumb to his pinky.

“…” Tang Shaocheng said, “What do you learn every day?”

Yan Liao stayed for three days, and it felt like they were back to their old lives, living in their small home together. They went to a nearby market in the evening, bought some vegetables and meat, and cooked a meal together.

But on the last day, he couldn’t get excited about anything. He didn’t even have an appetite for his favorite plum and pork ribs. The meat was stewed so tenderly that it fell off the bone with a poke, but Yan Liao just propped his face up lazily and didn’t want to eat.

Tang Shaocheng watched him. Although he had been happy when he first came back, he could tell the boy’s state was off.

He seemed anxious, his eyes often spaced out, and he had lost a lot of weight.

Tang Shaocheng asked him again, “How are things at school?”

This time, his answer wasn’t the usual “It’s alright” or “It’s all good.” Maybe because they were about to part again, he revealed his true feelings. “I stare at the calendar every day,” Yan Liao said, his head resting on his arm. He unconsciously picked at the skin around his thumb’s nail bed, which was a strange, tender, and fresh pink color, where it had been torn and new flesh had grown back. “I feel like an empty-nest senior citizen in a nursing home.”

He still had the humor to make jokes.

Tang Shaocheng felt a little something he couldn’t quite put into words. He frowned, got the first-aid kit, and put a bandage on his hand. Yan Liao said it was just an artist’s eccentricity. He even argued, “I have a classmate who likes to eat hair.”

Alright. Tang Shaocheng sighed. “Get a stress ball or something. Stop picking at your hands.”

“I know.”

Yan Liao’s visit was short, and they both subconsciously wanted to make each other happy. Neither of them said anything that would ruin the mood.