The Long Night - Chapter 29

The second semester had fewer classes, and Tang Shaocheng, now interning at the law firm, didn’t have to travel around with clients for appraisals. He could work remotely, which gave him time to travel back and forth.

In late February, they returned to Pingcheng to look for a place near the school.

Last time, Tang Shaocheng handled everything, and Yan Liao just followed along with his hands in his pockets. The boy had been spoiled pretty well, but if this continued, it would become a problem. This time, Tang Shaocheng didn’t let him be a hands-off manager. They went to look at apartments with a real estate agent. At each step, Tang Shaocheng patiently explained everything to him. “First, you need to check the property ownership, the landlord’s information, and the lease term. Also, who’s responsible for appliance repair fees, and the costs for water, electricity, security deposit, breach of contract clauses, and compensation.”

“Before signing the contract, remember to take pictures of the water, electricity, and gas meters. You also need to test all the appliances in the room.”

Tang Shaocheng babbled on, detailing every little thing. The real estate agent walking in front of him was so nervous he was stuttering, as if an official from the Market Supervision Bureau had arrived. He would constantly turn around and reassure them, “Don’t worry! We are completely legitimate and honest.”

After the contract was signed, Yan Liao handed Tang Shaocheng a key without him even having to ask. It was a simple one-bedroom apartment, which would have been a large flat in another city.

They moved all of their belongings, which were only a few cardboard boxes. Tang Shaocheng told Yan Liao to unpack everything himself, occasionally standing on the side and giving him directions. Wherever he pointed, Yan Liao would huff and puff to move the things, a little like a cat being teased with a cat toy.

When he was done unpacking, Yan Liao came and hugged him, refusing to let go. Wherever Tang Shaocheng took a step, Yan Liao would be dragged along, clinging to him like a conjoined twin. “Are we eating or not?” Tang Shaocheng, like a turtle with a heavy shell on his back, walked toward the kitchen. Yan Liao, as if he could read his mind, hummed, “I’m not learning to cook.”

They ate a simple dinner. The sun had not yet set, and golden light poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, flooding the floor. Yan Liao walked barefoot over the light, which flowed like a creek in deep and shallow ripples. He squinted; this window was what he loved most about this one-bedroom apartment.

He went back to the bedroom and lay on the bed for a while. Thinking back on the partitioned room he used to live in, he now realized that he had endured a period of hardship. He also remembered how Tang Shaocheng’s eyes had turned red when he saw him living there; no wonder he reacted that way.

Yan Liao licked his lips. He hadn’t yet realized that what he did was wrong and was still very pleased with himself. He turned his head and saw a small bruise on his arm, which he had no idea when he got. He quickly called Tang Shaocheng over. “I’m hurt,” he said, deliberately dragging out his voice. “It hurts a lot.”

Tang Shaocheng had just finished putting two bags of trash by the door. He washed his hands and walked over, touching his arm. “Where did you get that?”

Yan Liao sat up, looking pitiful. “When we were moving, I bumped into the stair railing.”

“I told you not to walk so fast,” Tang Shaocheng said, sitting on the edge of the bed and blowing on the bruise. He saw that Yan Liao’s eyes were as bright as a searchlight and knew what the boy was thinking. Every time he got hurt, he would want to be consoled as if he were presenting a treasure. Tang Shaocheng said slowly, “I like obedient boys.”

Yan Liao’s head shot up, his ears twitching, and his face flushed slightly. “…Then I’m an obedient boy,” he swallowed. A little shy, he decided to just go for it and throw away all shame. “…So you have to reward me.”

“Mm.”

Tang Shaocheng watched him with a smile, his fingers slowly moving from his flushed earlobe to his neck. He lifted Yan Liao’s elbow and kissed the injured spot.

“No, my blood pressure is a little high.” Yan Liao fell backward, lying stiffly on the bed. He covered his chest and pretended to have a medical episode. He said seriously, “Listen to my heartbeat.”

Tang Shaocheng cooperated, leaning down and pressing his ear to his chest. He heard the “thump-thump” sound of his heartbeat. “It’s beating just fine.”

“How is it?” Yan Liao laughed proudly. “Can you feel how much I like you?”

Tang Shaocheng listened to his heartbeat, the steady, powerful rhythm hitting his eardrum. It was the sound of a living, healthy life.

It was just a moment of flirting, but in the dim glow of the setting sun, he suddenly felt a different kind of emotion. More than “I like you,” he wanted to say, “thank you.”

It was as if, for the entire year after that, he thought more about missing him than reminiscing about him. Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for letting me come back to you.

“I can feel it. I can also feel that I like you very much.”

Tang Shaocheng lay down next to him, his finger hooking his chin, and his thumb slid to his earlobe, where he rubbed it. He made him turn his face, then kissed the corner of his mouth, their lips pressed together without moving. Yan Liao narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth. “Come in.” Tang Shaocheng laughed with a puff of air, leaned his face closer, and his nimble tongue slipped through the gap in his lips, prying open his teeth, their tongues entwining in a slow, languid dance. Yan Liao hummed twice through his nose, his bones feeling weak. He swallowed the excess saliva with a frown, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth a little more.

Tang Shaocheng pressed the back of his head toward himself, his warm palm stroking his spine from top to bottom. His soft tongue swept over every inch of the other person’s mouth, then gently bit his lip. He lifted his eyelids and saw Yan Liao’s trembling eyelashes and wet streaks overflowing from the corners of his eyes.

He couldn’t help but smile. “You cry even when I kiss you.”

Yan Liao sniffled and argued, “I’m not crying. These are physiological tears.”

Tang Shaocheng’s mouth curved, and he kissed away his tears.

Tang Shaocheng stayed with Yan Liao for a few days. It was the last semester. Yan Liao bought a new calendar, and the first thing he did every morning was tear a page off the calendar, and the second was to sulk. At this rate, the third thing he would do was likely invent a time accelerator. Didn’t he dream about Einstein last time?

It rained a few times in late February. The plants downstairs were growing well, and in just a few days, it looked like spring.

The windowpane was covered in a misty fog, and the steam from the black tea rose slowly inside the room. Yan Liao lazily wiped away the white mist with his hand. He couldn’t understand why this person had gone straight into the tea-drinking phase. He had never seen him drink a soda, always paying attention to his sugar intake and not even eating fruits that were too sweet. No wonder he felt like he had missed out on meeting the B&B owner before. Yan Liao still felt annoyed thinking about something that happened a year ago.

Just like Tang Shaocheng was annoyed when he saw Yan Liao’s transcript.

That day, he first saw an audio recording of a class on Yan Liao’s computer. He was surprised and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know the boy was so studious. What was even more unexpected was that he was so studious and only got a 61 on the test. That wasn’t Yan Liao’s achievement; it was the teacher’s, who had barely helped him pass.

Yan Liao was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, drinking a soda and watching TV. Tang Shaocheng, on the sofa behind him, was moving the mouse. He saw a folder named “Class Recordings” and asked suspiciously, “Do you listen to these recordings again?”

“Yeah,” Yan Liao said, his words muffled by the straw. “Sometimes when I have insomnia, I play them, and I fall asleep right away. They work better than melatonin. They won’t give me sleeping pills without a prescription.”

…So it was ASMR.

“Why do you have insomnia?”

Yan Liao blurted out, “I have erotic dreams as soon as I close my eyes. It’s so bad for my health, I’m afraid to sleep.”

…

He looked up at Tang Shaocheng’s speechless expression, retracted his last statement, and rephrased it. “I miss you so much I can’t sleep.”

A moment of sincere concern turned into sharing hooligan sayings. Tang Shaocheng ignored him and pulled up his transcript from the academic system. He saw a list of GPAs so low it seemed they were allergic to numbers above three. He kicked Yan Liao’s butt from behind. “This is all you learned in half a year.”

The person on the carpet jumped up like a little puppy with its tail stepped on. He looked at the screen in shock. “How did you log in?”

Tang Shaocheng’s expression was serious. “I’m a hacker.”

In reality, he remembered that the passwords for all the university systems were the last six digits of their ID cards, no matter which college.

“Oh,” Yan Liao deliberately drew out the word, glancing at him. “That’s great. Then you can find the private folder where I keep your nude photos.”

Tang Shaocheng crooked his finger. Yan Liao thought he wanted him to lean in for a secret, but as soon as he lowered his head, Tang Shaocheng pinched his face. Tang Shaocheng pointed at the computer screen. “Look for yourself. Every class is barely a passing grade. Don’t fail and have to retake them next semester.”

Yan Liao looked at the uniformly low GPAs on the screen and still talked tough. “You’re the one who’s affecting my studies.”

He dumped a huge bucket of blame on Tang Shao-cheng’s head. Tang Shaocheng had never been so wrongly accused. He held a grudge and brought up old scores. “That’s nonsense. I only called you every few days during your exam month.”

“How is it nonsense? You’re in my head every day. When I see the blackboard, chalk, podium, and desks, I think of you. I think of you when I eat and when I sleep. When I think of you, I don’t have the energy to think about anything else. My brain and my heart are filled with you.”

Tang Shaocheng, who was saying, “Stop it, I’m not that easy to win over,” was won over.

He closed the laptop and went to the kitchen to cut some fruit for Yan Liao. The little emperor, who was lazy and knew nothing about manual labor, was too lazy even to peel grapes himself. His exercise for the morning was just opening his mouth and swallowing.

In the evening, Tang Shaocheng was sitting on the head of the bed reading a book. Yan Liao came over after his shower with a towel wrapped around his head and handed him a hairdryer. “Here.”

Then he sat down. “Dry.”

He was speaking in single words. Tang Shaocheng, while telling him that he was becoming more and more spoiled, meticulously dried his hair with the hairdryer. Yan Liao changed into his pajamas and got into the comforter, arguing, “You should be a kind father sometimes. Don’t always be so strict with me.”

“How can you even say that?” Tang Shaocheng was amused by his righteousness. He rolled up a few scattered sketch papers on the nightstand and lightly tapped his head. “Be serious in class next semester.”

“Okay!” Yan Liao covered his head and rolled around on the bed twice, trying to find a safe place. He ended up in Tang Shaocheng’s arms. He grabbed his wrist and promised, “I will study hard and improve every day, okay, baby? Okay, hubby?” His voice at the end was full of emotion, like a meandering wavy line.

Tang Shaocheng tried to hold back but couldn’t help but laugh. He lowered his head and kissed his lips. “Okay, baby.”

Yan Liao’s face was flushed with love. He lifted the comforter and climbed onto him, lying on his chest and looking up at him, saying whatever came to mind. “When I make a lot of money in the future, you won’t have to work.”

This conversation sounded so familiar. Tang Shaocheng narrowed his eyes, remembering how Yan Liao had said the same thing in his previous life when he sold his first painting, saying he would keep him and support him. He really hadn’t forgotten his original intention. What did he think about all day? He never studied properly.

He chuckled and reached up to squeeze Yan Liao’s butt. “Okay, I’ll be waiting for you, baby.”

Yan Liao lay obediently on his chest and fell silent. The only sounds in the room were their two breaths and the occasional rustling of a book page.

This was a book Tang Shaocheng hadn’t finished in his previous life. After all this time, he finally knew how the story ended. After all this time, Tang Shaocheng had never considered telling Yan Liao about his rebirth.

He thought, isn’t it better this way? For Yan Liao to feel that there was someone in his life who loved him unconditionally, just like in his previous life, Yan Liao had appeared like a gift from the sky, coming to him and saying he loved him.

A week later, as the time for Tang Shaocheng to leave drew closer, Yan Liao became more and more irritable, like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. But when he actually got mad, he would cry after just a few words.

He cried so often that Tang Shaocheng was getting used to it and even started to appreciate it. “He looks kind of cute when he cries.” He would occasionally have this thought, filled with a sense of guilt.

But sometimes, he would still be like a worried old father, telling him not to cry all the time. Crying could only vent emotions, not solve problems. Yan Liao briefly stopped sobbing, and he even managed to roll his eyes. “I never cry outside, okay? What’s the point of crying?” Before Tang Shaocheng could feel relieved, he heard him say something big again. “It’s only useful to cry to you.” Then he would immediately start crying again, as fast as a galloping horse.

Tang Shaocheng looked down at Yan Liao, who was curled up like a shrimp, focused on wiping his tears. It was hard to connect this boy to the one from three years ago who stood downstairs from his house, hands in his pockets, with bright yellow hair, looked up disdainfully, and said, “What are you looking at?” with a cool and defiant posture.

Who would have thought that a bad boy was actually a crybaby?

He didn’t cry this much in his previous life, except in bed.

Where did he go wrong to become like this? Tang Shaocheng couldn’t figure it out, but he wanted to laugh. This was also good.

In early March, Tang Shaocheng and the crybaby parted ways at the airport again.

After checking in, they sat on a bench in the hall, both wearing the same style of dark gray coat. Every time they were here, Yan Liao felt like he was outside a surgery room. He muttered, “We’re going to be apart for a long time again.”

The phrase “long time” could be used in this context. Tang Shaocheng raised his hand to smooth out his furrowed brows. “It won’t be long. I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“A blink of an eye is a long time.”

Yan Liao lowered his head and squeezed Tang Shaocheng’s hand. He was getting annoyed by the cold, mechanical voice on the broadcast urging passengers of other flights to board. His nails were almost digging into Tang Shaocheng’s flesh, but he suddenly remembered this wasn’t his hand and tried to find another target. Before he could use any force, his hand was held tightly. “Don’t do that again.” Tang Shaocheng ignored the red crescent marks on his fingertips, frowned, and sighed. “Can’t you make me worry less?”

Yan Liao glanced at him and reluctantly said, “Mm,” then he paused, his voice full of surprise. “When have you ever worried less?”

Tang Shaocheng almost couldn’t catch his breath.

Well, the child was grown. It was time to sail away with the oars of wisdom and happiness.

They sat for a while longer. When it was time, Tang Shaocheng went to security. It was a very familiar process, and they separated in front of a transparent box filled with colorful, discarded lighters.

The sounds of the airport broadcast, the chatter of the crowd, and the rolling of suitcase wheels on the ground all receded like a tide. The place where they stood became a small island. Tang Shaocheng patted his back and asked, “Did you remember everything I said?”

“Mm.”

Yan Liao lowered his head, experiencing separation anxiety. Every time they had to separate, he looked wilted, as if he hadn’t had sunlight or water for days. He slowly repeated the words he had heard so many times his ears were calloused. “I have to tell you first what I’m doing and where I’m going.”

Tang Shaocheng was very pleased. He touched his head. His soft hair had just been cut and wasn’t prickly. “Who’s a good boy?”

Saying something like that in public made Yan Liao’s ears turn red at a visible speed. He pursed his lips and asked in a low, gritted voice, “Are you sick?” Then, like a buzzing mosquito, he leaned closer and whispered so only the two of them could hear, “…I am.”

Yan Liao opened his arms to hug him. Tang Shaocheng took the opportunity to pull him into his arms. Everyone at the airport was in a hurry, and no one stopped to wonder about their relationship. Tang Shaocheng felt the other person’s body temperature and heartbeat through his clothes. “I never want to leave you again.” He was taken aback to hear the boy say this, as if making a solemn vow. He patted Yan Liao’s back. “Good.”

In late winter and early spring, the weather warmed up, and pink and white flower buds sprouted on the branches.

Yan Liao no longer wanted to be on the phone with Tang Shaocheng 24/7 like he did two months ago. He no longer lived in a hotel, where someone would come to deliver food and take out the trash with a press of a button. He had to do everything himself. During the day, he would go to school for classes, and at night, he would ride his bike home to start his first real-life experience of living alone.

At first, he wasn’t used to it. When he threw green onions and ginger into the frying pan, it was as if he had thrown a bomb in. The oil would splash out like rain. He had no choice but to put on a raincoat, gloves, a mask, and sunglasses. He believed that if he persevered, he would make progress, like becoming Iron Man or a cultivator who only drank dew instead of eating.

The project Tang Shaocheng participated in last semester won first place. He split the prize money with his roommates. The professor also appreciated him and asked him if he wanted to join another project and if he had plans for graduate school. He didn’t decline the professor on the spot, saying he would think about it, and only refused that night.

His plans for the future were still rational and clear. He didn’t want to try and find a different kind of fun just because it was a new life. He still chose the most stable path possible.