Time Has Grown Dim, And Evening Has Already Fallen - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Cheng Xun went to the supermarket. He was fine before he entered, but by the time he came out, he looked completely wilted.

“?” Xie Qiubai expressed his confusion. “What’s wrong now? Did you run into an enemy at the supermarket? Didn’t that guy transfer schools already?”

Cheng Xun paused, then realized who Xie Qiubai was talking about—the culprit behind the previous KTV incident. He had forgotten that person even existed.

“No.” Cheng Xun stabbed the straw into his yogurt with unnecessary force. “I told you it’s nothing. Stop overthinking.”

Xie Qiubai gave an “oh” and instinctively rubbed his nose. “I’m just worried about my bro.”

Back in the classroom, Cheng Xun found Lu Xingchu already asleep, leaning against his desk. The lines of his arms were smooth and lean; his hands, resting relaxed on the table, were long and elegant with well-defined knuckles.

Cheng Xun realized he was staring at Lu Xingchu for no reason again. He quickly shook his head to banish the strange thoughts and quietly placed a pineapple bun and a Coke on Lu’s desk.

Cheng Xun remained distracted all day. Even the subject teachers noticed his poor state. He even received a warning from his English teacher, telling him not to slack off just because his recent grades were good—final exam scores for the second year would be crucial for class placement.

But his heart simply wouldn’t settle. For the entire afternoon, he didn’t even dare to glance in Lu Xingchu’s direction. He didn’t even know if the guy had eaten the pineapple bun.

He finally endured until the last period of the day: Physical Education. The more energetic boys had already sprinted down to the field. Following the usual routine of warm-ups and a lap around the track, they were dismissed for free activities.

As mentioned before, PE classes at No. 9 High were mixed; Cheng Xun’s class and Xie Qiubai’s class happened to be scheduled together. Sure enough, Xie Qiubai came charging toward Cheng Xun clutching a basketball.

“Cheng Xun, let’s play basketball.”

“I don’t feel like moving today,” Cheng Xun refused without a second thought.

Xie Qiubai didn’t press him but instead grabbed his arm and started pulling him along. “Then just watch us play.”

Cheng Xun’s mind was heavy with worries, but he didn’t forget to roast him. “Who wants to watch you play?”

“Fine, fine, you don’t want to watch, but plenty of ‘fangirls’ do.” Xie Qiubai’s confident look was particularly punchable.

Cheng Xun rolled his eyes at him, speechless.

When they reached the court, he realized Lu Xingchu was already there. Apparently, the sports representative had dragged him into a game right after dismissal. At that time, Cheng Xun had vanished faster than a rabbit, hiding in the equipment room to “play dead,” only to be caught by Xie Qiubai the moment he stepped out.

“If you won’t watch me, at least watch your Lu Xingchu play. He’s plenty handsome, right?”

Xie Qiubai’s mindless teasing felt entirely wrong to Cheng Xun’s ears today. What do you mean, “your Lu Xingchu”? Xie Qiubai had been shouting nonsense like that for a long time, but today, Cheng Xun actually cared.

“I’m not watching.” Cheng Xun glared at Xie Qiubai, stole one glance at Lu Xingchu dribbling and shooting on the court, and then headed off to the shade of a tree to cool down.

Despite saying he wouldn’t watch, his eyes were honest, constantly stealing glances at a certain figure. But the moment Lu Xingchu looked in his direction, he immediately averted his gaze and pretended to sleep.

Eventually, Cheng Xun actually did fall asleep. The early June weather was sweltering, and the shade was comfortable. Gradually, sleepiness took over…

“Cheng Xun!” “Cheng Xun—!”

Two shouts rang out simultaneously. Cheng Xun jolted awake and tried to turn his head to see what was happening. A basketball, carrying the force of the wind like an arrow, came flying toward him and slammed directly into the side of his face.

This time, Cheng Xun truly heard a ringing in his ears. It was followed by the wet sensation of a nosebleed dripping down onto his white T-shirt…

At the sight of blood, he felt like fainting again.

Cheng Xun tried to cover his nose, but the blood seeped through his fingers. Through his blurred vision, he thought he saw Xie Qiubai rushing toward him, but the person who finally knelt before him was Lu Xingchu.

Lu Xingchu supported Cheng Xun’s thin back with one hand while the other moved to scoop under his knees, attempting to pick him up in a bridal carry.

Cheng Xun grabbed Lu’s collar and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear: “No! Absolutely no bridal carry!”

He wanted to keep at least a shred of his dignity. If everyone saw Lu Xingchu carrying him to the infirmary like a princess, he might as well stop living.

Lu Xingchu gave him a long, deep look before eventually hoisting him onto his back to carry him to the infirmary instead.

Cheng Xun’s nosebleed wouldn’t stop, and it had stained Lu Xingchu’s short-sleeved school uniform. He watched his blood slowly ruin the snowy-white T-shirt, feeling an inevitable pang of guilt.

“Crap… why are you so tense? I’ll just stuff it with some tissues and I’ll be fine.” Cheng Xun’s words were strained; the nosebleed showed no sign of stopping. “Your clothes are all dirty,” he muttered softly.

The boy’s back was broad and warm, giving him an odd sense of security.

Luckily, the school nurse hadn’t left yet. She stopped the bleeding before hurrying out to handle some business, instructing them to return to class after resting and not to forget to lock the door.

Cheng Xun lay back on the simple cot. A pure white curtain divided the narrow infirmary in two, giving the space a sense of privacy. Lu Xingchu sat in a chair beside him, doing nothing but staring fixedly at Cheng Xun.

Being watched by those dark, beautiful eyes was incredibly high-pressure. Cheng Xun finally couldn’t stand the stifling, awkward silence anymore and bolted upright, making the cot creak loudly.

With tissues still stuffed in his nose and bloodstains on his collar, he looked disheveled and pitiful, yet he clearly had something to say. Lu Xingchu just looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Lu Xingchu,” Cheng Xun called his name, then bit his lip indecisively. “You… you couldn’t possibly like me, right?”

He was the type who could never hide a secret; his joys and sorrows were written all over his face. If there was something he wanted to ask, he had to say it.

Lu Xingchu’s brow furrowed imperceptibly, but he didn’t answer.

“I only kissed you because I was drunk. You know I was just acting crazy because of the alcohol. It was just a misunderstanding, you get it, right?” Cheng Xun’s eyes were wide, his voice full of hesitation. “We’re both guys.”

“Let’s just forget it. It was a misunderstanding anyway. It was just a kiss on the mouth, it’s not like I lost a limb. People do that all the time during Truth or Dare…” Cheng Xun blinked, his voice trailing off as he tried to justify it.

“Just because you’re a boy, I’m not allowed to like you?”

Lu Xingchu’s tone was calm—so calm it seemed almost mismatched with such a world-shaking statement.

Cheng Xun’s eyes flew wide. “What are you saying…”

Before he could finish, Lu Xingchu’s face was suddenly inches away. In those beautiful eyes, Cheng Xun saw his own shocked reflection.

Then, his lips were sealed.

The boy’s hand rested against the back of his neck; he wasn’t using much force, yet it felt impossible to break away. His lips were warm, and his kiss was not gentle. Unlike the previous two brief, tentative touches, Lu Xingchu was clearly using force this time. He parted his lips slightly, tasting the corners of Cheng Xun’s mouth.

The boy’s lips gradually became wet and flushed. Even without a deeper exchange, the kiss was lingering and intimate.

Cheng Xun felt he should resist, yet he allowed Lu Xingchu to take what he wanted without pushing him away. His chest felt scalding; his body felt both rigid and weak.

Even after Lu Xingchu released his lips, Cheng Xun couldn’t snap out of it for a long time.

“Before was an accident, a misunderstanding. But this time, it isn’t.” The boy’s hand gently stroked his face, his low, magnetic voice ringing in Cheng Xun’s ear. “Cheng Xun, I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

The boy who was always indifferent, who looked so unapproachably cold, had an indescribable tenderness in his eyes as he confessed. The burning passion of youth set the summer aflame.

Cheng Xun didn’t know how to answer. It felt as if no words were enough to carry the weight of this intensity. He frantically turned his face away, broke out of Lu Xingchu’s embrace, and scrambled off the bed as if escaping.

“You’re not allowed to say it! Don’t say another word!” Cheng Xun’s voice grew softer and less confident. “Have you thought about Grandma? If she found out, she’d be heartbroken. You’re her grandson, her pride. You can’t go down the ‘wrong’ path. She would hate me… she would hate me to death.”

The tissue in Cheng Xun’s nose fell out, and the nosebleed that had finally stopped began to flow again. He covered his nose haphazardly, his expression a mess of panic. “I’ll act like I didn’t hear anything you said today. Let’s just forget everything that happened today, okay? In the future… we’re still friends.”

He held his nose and turned to leave, the bright red blood dripping through his fingers. Just as he turned away, Lu Xingchu grabbed him from behind. His arms wrapped around Cheng Xun’s waist, and he rested his chin on Cheng Xun’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Lu Xingchu’s breath fanned against the side of Cheng Xun’s face—warm and ticklish. His voice was husky. “I’m sorry, Cheng Xun.”

“Do you hate me?” Lu Xingchu’s voice held a trace of hesitation. “Or is it because of Grandma?”

Cheng Xun wanted to shake his head and tell him to stop, but he found he couldn’t speak. After a long silence with no response, Lu Xingchu slowly released the embrace and stood up straight. His stunning eyes were filled with emotions he couldn’t voice.

“Okay.” “I promise you.” “Still friends.”

Hearing his answer, Cheng Xun felt he should have been relieved, yet his heart was filled with an inexplicable bitterness. He didn’t know what was wrong with himself. He grabbed some tissues, hurriedly stopped the blood, pushed open the infirmary door, and ran out as if fleeing for his life.

Lu Xingchu stood there for a long time—so long that he didn’t react until the bell rang. He cleaned the blood off the floor and locked the infirmary door as he left.

He stared blankly at the door handle, then gave a self-mocking smile.

“…Just friends.