The Long Night - Chapter 27

They met briefly during the October break, and then the two were in a long-distance relationship again for three months. From autumn to winter, the leaves fell, and in the blink of an eye, it was Christmas. Since it wasn’t a holiday, Yan Liao didn’t expect Tang Shaocheng to visit.

On one hand, Tang Shaocheng wanted to give him a surprise, and on the other, he had a subtle, nagging feeling of unease. He could tell from their calls and video chats that Yan Liao’s mood and state of mind were off.

As the days passed, Yan Liao’s silence grew thicker, like winter fog. He wasn’t texting as often as before. At first, Tang Shaocheng was relieved, thinking he was becoming more independent, but after a while, Yan Liao’s replies became slow and short, only a few words at a time. Video calls at the time he usually got out of class were all rejected without exception.

“Don’t you have anything else to do?” That was the longest sentence Yan Liao had sent in those few days. Even through the screen, Tang Shaocheng could imagine the feigned nonchalance in his tone. The sight of that line of text made his teeth ache. The boy needed to be disciplined.

He took two extra days off after New Year’s Day, giving himself a full week. He bought a late-night flight on Christmas Eve, and as he boarded, he felt a rare excitement and anticipation. The joy of preparing a surprise was no less than receiving one.

The plane landed in the evening, and as soon as he stepped off, he was enveloped in a strong Christmas atmosphere. A cold wind howled, and Christmas trees decorated with red bows and gold bells were everywhere. Reindeer sleighs were positioned as if swooping down from the tops of shops. It rarely snowed there, so some windows were decorated with cotton and sea salt to create snowy scenes.

Tang Shaocheng walked into A-University, surrounded by the sound of laughter rising and falling like waves. When he arrived at Yan Liao’s dorm building, he was about to text him with an excuse like, “Your food delivery is here,” to trick him into coming out for a surprise. But then he saw Chen Yu walking towards him with a basin of water on the steps.

Tang Shaocheng squinted, remembering that this person must be Yan Liao’s roommate.

Their eyes met, and Chen Yu looked puzzled. “I remember you. Are you here to see Yan Liao?” Without waiting for an answer, he shook his head. “He’s not here. He moved out during the National Day break.” He paused, startled by the sudden change in Tang Shaocheng’s expression. “You didn’t know?”

Tang Shaocheng controlled his face and asked calmly, “Do you have his new address?”

“I don’t, but the dorm manager might. Everyone who moves out has to register.”

The dorm manager was off somewhere, so Chen Yu suggested the class monitor might know. The class monitor was busy with the student union, helping to organize a college competition. Chen Yu enthusiastically offered, “I can take you there.” Tang Shaocheng politely declined and followed his memory to the student union building, passing many familiar faces along the way.

After Tang Shaocheng explained his purpose, the class monitor helped him get the address from the system. Seeing the name “Yan Liao” brought up some unpleasant memories, and he started to complain about Yan Liao’s lack of awareness. He criticized him for avoiding college activities and not having a sense of community. Tang Shaocheng was annoyed. It was one thing for him to say it, but another for someone else to.

After getting the address, he thanked the class monitor politely. As he left, he saw many familiar faces in the bright, empty corridor, but they all seemed strangely unfamiliar, not glorified by memory. He was preoccupied with the other person and didn’t linger on old memories for a second.

With no source of income, the rent in Pingcheng was expensive, so Yan Liao couldn’t afford a nice place.

It was a part of the city that seemed to be in a state of hibernation, where all holiday festivities were blocked out like an unwanted signal. The multi-unit building was in a chaotic alley, reached by a winding, bumpy dirt road. It was a mixed bag of people, and the dry, chaotic winter air smelled of different households cooking. The lights were dim, and people squatted idly by the roadside. Forget a Christmas atmosphere; there wasn’t even a sense of normal social order.

Tang Shaocheng followed the navigation deeper into the dark alley, where a thick white fog had set in. The blood in his veins felt like a tidal wave. His steps were heavy, and he felt like a shattered ship swaying in a tsunami.

The navigation announced, “You have arrived.” Through a blurry window, he saw a dark room. The light from the hallway illuminated a faint outline inside.

Yan Liao was wearing a white sweater with an apron that looked like a spilled palette. He was walking slowly and unsteadily, exuding a sense of decay and dejection.

From a distance, he looked up, and his gaze suddenly stopped, as if he had seen a figment of his imagination. He stared in disbelief. After a few seconds, his wrist shook violently, and the cup of hot water in his hand hit the ground with a loud clang. He was a half-second too slow, and a small part of the pale, bare skin on the back of his hand was scalded red.

Yan Liao picked up the cup, enduring the pain. He took two steps forward, and they faced each other in slow motion. When he could finally see the other’s expression clearly, Yan Liao’s dark pupils filled with a sense of bewilderment. “Why are you here?”

The quiet corridor was lit by a faint overhead light, which illuminated Yan Liao’s instantly pale face. He stood frozen, unable to move forward or back. Tang Shaocheng stood a few feet away, silently watching him.

“You live here?”

Tang Shaocheng’s voice and expression turned grim. He grabbed Yan Liao’s wrist with such force that his knuckles cracked. Yan Liao winced in pain. As he pushed him away, his back hit the wall with a loud thud.

Tang Shaocheng felt like he had been hit by something too, a blow to the head. A draft from the open window howled in, and his limbs felt frozen.

“Go run some cold water on your hand.”

“… Okay.”

Yan Liao led him to the room at the end of the corridor. The price of the quiet was a secluded and damp environment. The musty smell stung Tang Shaocheng’s eyes. He closed the door. Yan Liao hesitated before turning on the light. The dim light from outside the window filtered in like a hazy fog.

He ran cold water over his scalded hand, which was fine. His thoughts were a tangled mess. After coming out of the bathroom, he stood a little farther away from Tang Shaocheng and spoke slowly.

“Don’t be mad. I’m okay here… It’s not too bad…”

Tang Shaocheng stared at him, then asked, exhausted and slow, “Okay enough to want to stay here forever? What are you trying to prove, that I was wrong or that you won?”

His face had been grim since he arrived. Yan Liao lowered his head. “Why are you talking to me like this?” He pouted and leaned against the wall, a sudden surge of anger rising in him. He decided to let it all out. “How could I ever win? You don’t care if I live or die anyway.”

“Say that again?”

Tang Shaocheng’s expression was icy. He watched him calmly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

“So you were wrong.”

Yan Liao glanced at him with swollen eyes. “You’re the one who told me to try first.”

“Well, this is how my ‘try’ turned out. This is me.”

He lowered his gaze, pretending to be nonchalant. “Maybe I’m just suited for a place like this. You were wrong. You thought too highly of me. I’ve never been the person you expected me to be.”

Maybe, for a brief moment when he decided to live here, he had hoped for a look of regret and pain on Tang Shaocheng’s face when he found out.

Because he knew him well enough, he knew how to find the exact spot that would hurt him the most, even when he was in the most pain himself.

Just a slight change in his expression was all the proof he needed.

Tang Shaocheng looked at him emotionlessly, his voice faint, as if pushed by the wind from a great distance, noncommittal. “So, what? What do you want to do now?”

He couldn’t detect any emotion in his voice.

Outside the window, a few scattered stars, the light from a streetlamp, the cold air, the rustling of leaves, and the low, bustling sounds of people came through the drafty window. The light and shadows flickered across Tang Shaocheng’s face—his eyebrows, his eyes, his nose, his jaw. He looked so tired he was almost a statue.

He leaned wearily against the wall in the dim light, his tall body like a collapsing mountain ridge, a dark silhouette against the gray. In the small, cramped space, no matter how hard they tried to keep their distance, they were only a few feet apart, yet they had never been so separated, divided by an endless winter and the smell of mildew everywhere.

“… I want to.”

Yan Liao’s throat bobbed, and as he said the two words, his eyes instantly reddened. His upward inflection took a sharp turn downward. “I don’t want to…”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He choked back a sob, his face as white as the wall. His fingers unconsciously rubbed the edge of his pants. He was still wearing the colorful apron, looking like a bewildered, motionless tropical fish, awkward and comical.

Tang Shaocheng looked at him. “Do you really think that? You never say what you’re actually thinking. Every time, you speak in riddles and say the opposite. What if I get it wrong one day? Would you feel relieved? Free?”

It was as if his body couldn’t handle the pressure anymore, and the immense burden broke free. The ground beneath his feet instantly gave way, and he fell infinitely.

“No!” Yan Liao suddenly walked forward and grabbed his sleeve, like a student who had made a mistake. His mind went blank for a moment; all he could do was shake his head. “… It’s not like that.”

He didn’t know how to articulate his messy thoughts more clearly, so he instinctively retracted his words, stammering.

“I didn’t think that… that I was fine here… I’m not doing well without you.”

“… I’ve already told you before, I can’t be without you. You didn’t believe me.”

“I don’t want to be apart from you…”

It was hard to say whether he had deliberately moved here just to make Tang Shaocheng feel heartbroken when he found out, to get love from his pain. But when it came to it, he realized how stupid that idea was.

“Will it be okay if I don’t do this again?”

Yan Liao’s hand trembled as he clutched Tang Shaocheng’s clothes, his prominent knuckles looking like they were trying to hold on to him with all his might. His back became more and more hunched, and he felt a sudden sense of despair. Just as he was about to bend over and squat down, he was pulled forward.

He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

“You don’t have to do this every time.”

Tang Shaocheng’s heart softened when he saw him like this. He dropped his stern tone, and his face and voice became gentle. He sighed. “Even if you want to get back at me, don’t do it by hurting yourself.” He shook his head, pushing away old memories that felt like they were in a thick fog. He wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes.

Yan Liao moved his lips. Tang Shaocheng almost instinctively reached out and pinched his chin. “Don’t bite your lip.” His hand moved helplessly to Yan Liao’s face. “What can you do besides…”

When Yan Liao heard those three words, he automatically filled in the rest of the sentence in his mind: “What can you do besides causing trouble?” “What can you do besides making a mess for me?” As he bit his lip without a sound, he heard Tang Shaocheng’s voice. “What can you do besides making my heart ache?”

It felt like a sudden flurry of snow was falling on him. Yan Liao’s eyes instantly turned red, and he dug his fingernails into his palms. The next second, he couldn’t hold back and hugged him, his arms wrapped around him as tightly as possible, as if he wanted to embed the other person into his body. Tears seeped into Tang Shaocheng’s sweater. Tang Shaocheng’s hand stroked the hair on the back of his head, and after a long time, his body relaxed as if he were sighing. He lowered his eyes and asked in a low voice, “Are you not getting along with your roommates at school, either?”

Yan Liao slowly nodded in his arms.

Tang Shaocheng raised his hand and wiped away his tears. They were cold, and they ran from his fingertips to his sleeve, a damp chill. “Didn’t I tell you to tell me first, no matter what happens?” Tang Shaocheng sighed as he wiped away his tears. “Why are you crying now?”

Yan Liao released his teeth, but the pale marks were still on his lower lip. His eyes felt dry and sore, as if they would split open. “I miss you.” When he finally said those words, he felt a sense of relief. He grabbed Tang Shaocheng’s hand and pressed it against his pale face. His low, wet eyelashes were clumped together. “I just want to cry when I see you.”

Anger and heartache mixed together, inseparable. It shouldn’t have been like this. You made everything this way. Unconditional love, meticulous care, and yet you still hoped he would grow into an independent individual.

You can’t try to change him and expect the story to be the same as it was in the beginning.

Tang Shaocheng sighed, suppressing the frustration in his heart. He started to think about solutions. “Winter break is coming soon. Let’s stay in a hotel for the next two weeks. Next semester, I’ll come at least twice a month. You need to focus on your classes and come home after school.”

“If you don’t want to live in the dorms next semester, then don’t. We’ll find a new place, but not here.”

“From now on, tell me what happens. Even if you don’t have time to tell me right away, don’t hide it from me.”

He looked around the room. The furniture had a blurry outline in the dim light. There were very few things, so they weren’t in a mess. “Start packing your things now. Just take what you’ll need for the next few days. I’ll take you out.” He paused, his face straight. “Pack it yourself.”

Yan Liao looked at him, his tear-filled eyes slowly glistening. “Okay,” he said, rubbing his cheeks, which still had dried tear streaks. “Don’t be mean.”

Tang Shaocheng stood by as Yan Liao slowly packed his things and changed his clothes. He didn’t pack much. He lacked life experience, and after moving out of the dorm, he left behind a lot of unnecessary things but threw away a lot of useful ones. Tang Shaocheng frowned for a moment and realized that many of the things Yan Liao couldn’t bear to throw away were things he had given him.

“I’m done packing.”

“Let’s go.”

Yan Liao walked submissively next to Tang Shaocheng, pushing a suitcase. They walked out of the dark hallway one after the other. It was quiet. Each room had its own story, and no one knew what had happened there.

Every second, things happen quietly in the world—a light is turned on, a light is turned off, love and hate, life and death. The wheels of the suitcase rolled on the bumpy road, and a stray black cat scurried out of the alley, its eyes wide with caution.

They walked one after the other, past the many lights in the crowded hallway, past the joys and sorrows of different families, and through the cold, long night.

Tang Shaocheng had booked a room before he arrived. The price was several times higher on Christmas Eve. In the hotel lobby, someone was playing Christmas piano music. It was then that Yan Liao remembered to ask how many days Tang Shaocheng had taken off. When he heard the number, he didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. It felt like time was stolen.

As they rode the elevator up, Yan Liao wrapped his arms around Tang Shaocheng’s shoulders, his forehead nuzzling his neck. He smelled a faint perfume on his clothes and thought it was funny that Tang Shaocheng had put on cologne to come find him. But a few days later, he was afraid that mentioning it would remind Tang Shaocheng of his trip to find him and coming up empty-handed, so he didn’t dare to ask what perfume it was. It was funnier when he secretly took his clothes to the counter to ask after Tang Shaocheng left.

That night, when they were in each other’s arms, Yan Liao was no longer in a bad mood. He rubbed his nose against the hollow of Tang Shaocheng’s neck. His skin, after a shower, was slightly cool and damp. The familiar touch, as if etched into his bones and blood, made him feel safe and a little wronged. “You scared me to death. I thought you were really mad at me.”

Tang Shaocheng patted him twice through the comforter. “Did I not look like I was really mad?”

“Ay.” Yan Liao snuggled into his arms, climbing up to his neck. The moist, crimson corners of his eyes looked like beautiful peach blossoms. “It’s different,” he said, slowly moving closer, his light, gentle breaths softly blowing on Tang Shaocheng’s skin. “I’ll be good and obedient from now on.” His lips slowly moved closer, brushing against him. “Please don’t stop loving me.”

“Mm.” Tang Shaocheng watched him for a while, then ruffled his hair. Some of his bad mood had been dispelled. “I won’t.”