The Long Night - Chapter 3

Yan Liao took the milk. “Is it hot?” he asked after holding it in his hand. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Protection money,” Tang Shaocheng said as they walked. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Oh—I’m not cold at all,” Yan Liao said with a disdainful drawl, but he quickly shoved the bottle into the side pocket of his messenger bag. “I’ll take it then.”

He had even forgotten what he was about to say. He walked lazily beside Tang Shaocheng, his hands in his pockets, his back straight. Under his school uniform, he wore a white turtleneck, and his dyed black hair was as dark as ink, making his skin look even fairer. The silver stud by his eyebrow was also gone, leaving a small round mark like a mole.

A smile was hidden in Tang Shaocheng’s eyes. At this moment, Yan Liao looked like a little boy, easily placated.

Even as an adult, he was easily placated. Many times when they fought, all Tang Shaocheng had to do was kiss him, and Yan Liao would no longer be angry.

But at that time, Tang Shaocheng couldn’t even manage that simple thing.

The first day of school was a Saturday. The streets were sparsely populated in the morning, filled with a hazy fog and a sense of desolation.

Tang Shaocheng took a deep breath, silently relieving the heavy blockage in his chest.

Yan Liao walked beside him, quiet for only two seconds before he couldn’t help but speak again. “The only reason I’m walking with you is because I don’t know my way around,” he said with reason. “I just moved here; I don’t know how to get around…” He then quickly glanced at Tang Shaocheng. “You’ve grown taller since last semester,” he complained with dissatisfaction. “How am I still the same height?”

Tang Shaocheng looked at him, remembering the way he used to lean against his chest, and paused. “You’ll grow more.”

“You’re not that tall either,” Yan Liao quickly added.

The two walked a little further. Yan Liao suddenly turned his head and stated very seriously, “I could’ve not gone to school today.”

Tang Shaocheng hummed, gesturing for him to continue.

“My art exams are done, and the training school has teachers for cultural classes now,” Yan Liao turned around, walking backward with ease. “I don’t have to go to school this semester, and I don’t have to take the city-wide mock exams.” His dark, bright eyes looked at Tang Shaocheng before quickly darting away. “My homeroom teacher doesn’t even care.”

If he were telling this to other classmates, they would probably think he was showing off his freedom.

Tang Shaocheng’s lips curved upward. He turned his face slightly, his high nose casting a small shadow. He said cooperatively, “Thank you for walking with me to school today.”

“I wasn’t!…” Yan Liao’s eyes widened. He retreated two steps as if facing a great enemy, his face slightly flushed, his head seeming to emit steam.

Tang Shaocheng tried not to laugh. He never knew Yan Liao was so easily embarrassed.

When they had met as adults, Yan Liao had already lost all sense of shame and would say anything. Making him blush back then was a difficult task.

Now, he was just too adorable.

“I have questions to ask my teacher,” he explained, as if making a solemn vow. “I’ve decided to study hard starting now.”

There were only three months left until the college entrance exams.

“You don’t believe me?” Yan Liao heard a soft chuckle from beside him and glared at him, unconvinced.

Tang Shaocheng controlled his smile. “I believe you.”

Yan Liao raised an eyebrow proudly. He had been walking backward the whole time without realizing it, and he had a lot of nervous habits. His hands squeezed the sides of his pants, creating ripple-like folds. He would sneak glances at Tang Shaocheng and look away nonchalantly when caught.

As he was walking faster and faster, a delivery motorcycle suddenly sped past behind him.

Tang Shaochéng was quick. He grabbed Yan Liao’s arm and pulled him back.

“Damn,” Yan Liao stumbled and fell hard into him, his forehead hitting Tang Shaocheng’s chest. He stood up, still shaken. “You scared the life out of me.”

He covered his forehead with one hand and looked up, seeing a hint of annoyance in Tang Shaocheng’s eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Yan Liao pouted. “Seriously? You’re angry already? Should I give you a rub?”

Tang Shaocheng furrowed his brows and blocked his outstretched hand. “Turn around and watch where you’re going.”

“Okay…” Yan Liao guiltily pulled his arm back and obediently walked beside Tang Shaocheng, mumbling softly, “This way, I can see you.”

After saying it, he quickly added with red ears, “And walking backward is good for you. It helps with your balance.”

Tang Shaocheng’s fingers twitched, and he really wanted to reach out and ruffle his hair, but he managed to hold back.

After crossing two roads, they arrived at the school gate. “Twenty-Third Middle School” was engraved on the white wall in black letters, newly painted.

For the first day of the new semester, the school had put up a banner that read, “Welcome Home.” The returning students’ expressions only became more miserable at the sight. The security guard, an old man, sat on a stool by the gate, enthusiastically greeting the students. He gave an even more enthusiastic greeting to a few regulars who liked to sneak in by climbing the wall.

Tang Shaocheng felt a sense of displacement as he walked into the school gate. After graduation, he never returned. He never attended the appreciation dinner after the exam results were announced or any of the later class reunions.

After all, he was a cold-blooded creature.

The two parted ways in the main hall of the teaching building. The staircases to their classrooms were on opposite sides of the corridor, separated by a giant bronze statue of a figure with eyes as big as light bulbs, supposedly the first principal.

“I’m leaving,” Yan Liao said, walking a couple of steps away from him. “My classroom is over there.”

“Go ahead. Study hard.”

Tang Shaocheng waved at him, a familiar gesture as if he had done it countless times. He felt like a parent.

Yan Liao rolled his eyes nonchalantly. “Tch.”

He was even more like a child now.

Tang Shaocheng followed his memory to class 6 of the senior year.

The glaring countdown to the college entrance exam was written on the blackboard. The student on duty had just erased it, and the remaining water marks shimmered.

It was as if he had stepped into an old, yellowing photograph. The past rushed in like a tidal wave. He still remembered his seat by the back window, where he could turn his head and see the flourishing sycamore trees below.

Tang Shaocheng returned to his seat amidst the surrounding noise. The familiar desk and chair and the textbooks he had left in the desk drawer at the end of last semester were all waiting for him.

This subtle feeling lasted for a minute.

It was only when he picked up the math test that Tang Shaocheng realized a critical issue.

…Oh, no.

Life really was full of surprises.

The prominent countdown on the wall would soon drop to a two-digit number. He looked at a question on trigonometric functions and quickly flipped the page to a conic section question.

They felt as foreign as if he had learned them in his previous life… which he had.

If Yan Liao had been the one to be reborn, he might have chosen to stay dead.

Tang Shaocheng sighed, muttering, “What’s done is done,” and resignedly opened his old notes. At least he could still understand what he had written.

The privilege of being a good student meant he didn’t have to listen to the lecture. Teacher Yang spoke eloquently from the podium. He was very lenient with Tang Shaocheng, only worried that a slow pace would hold back the top students.

Little did he know that the person below was starting from scratch, struggling desperately.

Senior year had no morning exercises. There were five classes in the morning, and the break after the fourth class was extended to fifteen minutes.

Tang Shaocheng once again marveled at the high metabolism of young people. The people around him were all complaining of hunger. The student in front of him had already wolfed down an entire pie.

“Tang Shaocheng.”

Lu Xiao, who sat behind him, patted his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you all break. Can you help me move a desk?”

The two sentences, with no logical connection, were spoken so naturally.

A friend from a distant land must first be put to work.

At this moment, Tang Shaocheng had a more genuine feeling of being back in his school days. He and Lu Xiao had been friends for many years, but later, when he needed a favor, there were always polite pleasantries and full gift boxes. They rarely communicated on We Chat, only sending perfectly structured holiday greetings.

It was difficult for them to have such a simple, direct exchange anymore.

There was a row of new desks in the corridor, set aside for replacement. Lu Xiao said his desk was missing a screw and wobbled whenever he rested his head on it to sleep.

“What happened to your arm?”

Tang Shaocheng moved a new desk in front of him and saw his arm in a thick cast. The person, who was nearly two meters tall, was squeezed into his seat as if trapped.

Lu Xiao coughed awkwardly. “I haven’t told anyone yet. It’s too embarrassing,” he whispered. “I fell when I was trying to get a wasp’s nest. My face swelled up like a pig’s head… Thankfully, the swelling has gone down, or I wouldn’t have dared to come to school.”

That’s right, that had happened.

Tang Shaocheng laughed. “That is embarrassing.”

It had been a long time since he had such a relaxed conversation, one where he didn’t have to think for a long time or give a polite, pre-made answer.

“So, please keep it a secret, or I’ll lose my reputation,” Lu Xiao said, making a pleading gesture with one hand, a bit like a monk begging for alms.

The bell for the end of the fifth class rang, and the class slumped over their desks as if they had been shot. The two went downstairs to get lunch and returned to the classroom. A few diligent students were still writing furiously in their seats, thinking even going to the cafeteria was a waste of time.

Lu Xiao had his own cafeteria. The menus of a row of restaurants across the street were in his desk, along with the phone number of each owner. The school’s rule was no delivery allowed at the gate, so the owners would pretend to be Lu Xiao’s father every time to sneak past the guards.

Slowly, other classmates would ask him to help bring them food, and Lu Xiao’s desk became a sort of delivery service hub. He was very popular. Those close to him knew he was carefree but good-natured, and those who didn’t know him well were instinctively intimidated, treating him with politeness.

His tall, burly figure was intimidating on the basketball court, let alone in the classroom. He was like a wall. One could pray to him directly.

Seniors had a ninety-minute lunch break, and those who lived close by could even go home for a nap. The school’s rules were very humane. Rest up and then study until midnight.

Tang Shaocheng walked to the other side of the corridor for the first time, circling outside Yan Liao’s classroom. There was no chance encounter.

The students inside were napping. The thick curtains blocked the midday sun completely, and the corridor was dim and hazy.

Tang Shaocheng slowly walked back. From a distance, he suddenly saw Yan Liao standing outside their classroom, tiptoeing to peer through the glass window.

His face seemed a little disappointed, like a small fish left alone in a tank. He retreated two steps dejectedly and then absently looked up, his eyes suddenly meeting Tang Shaocheng’s.

Their gazes connected in mid-air. Yan Liao flinched and immediately looked away.

It was as if the light had faded, or as if this person had been separated into a different layer.

Yan Liao quickly regained his nonchalant demeanor, but his steps unconsciously quickened. The corridor was dim and quiet in the afternoon. Tiny specks of dust danced in the air, gathering and then scattering like a nebula in a vast universe.

Tang Shaocheng asked him softly, “Why are you over here?”

Yan Liao looked at the wall, leaning against it with his hands in his pockets. “I was going to the restroom.”

“You came all this way to use the restroom?”

He stared straight ahead at the two shadows on the wall close together, the tips of his ears slightly red. “It’s none of your business.”

The light was hazy, and from inside the classroom came the faint sounds of students’ breathing as they napped. Both of them deliberately lowered their voices. When they were close, they could smell the scent of laundry detergent on each other’s clothes. Their short conversation felt like a clipped scene from a pirated film: rough, blurry, and ambiguous.

“Did you ask the teacher?”

“What?”

Tang Shaocheng pursed his lips and smiled. “You said this morning that you wanted to ask questions.”

“Ah…” Yan Liao couldn’t be stubborn this time and spoke plainly. “No, I didn’t. I can’t even understand what he’s talking about.”

In his previous life, Tang Shaocheng had no impression of whether he attended school during his senior year. He only remembered that he got into the art program at a comprehensive university with good grades, so he must have gone to an art training school.

He asked tentatively, “Then do you want to…?”

“No, I don’t,” Yan Liao pouted, as if he had anticipated the question. He answered quickly and then reluctantly explained, “…There’s only half a year left. I’m going to miss my classmates.”

He would miss someone else entirely.

Tang Shaocheng smiled and didn’t expose him.

He mentally calculated the scores. It was impossible for him to get into A University as smoothly as he did in his previous life, but… maybe he could get into the same school as Yan Liao.

It would be best if they never had to be apart.