Time Has Grown Dim, And Evening Has Already Fallen - Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Cheng Xun’s face turned red inch by inch. With quick eyes and hands, he slammed the door shut.

The bathroom door, old and worn out, let out a loud clatter, successfully shielding the two of them from further embarrassment.

Lu Xingchu, standing outside: “…”

He truly had just happened to be passing by. Grandma had just called them down to eat fruit, but Cheng Xun hadn’t heard her over the sound of the shower.

After a moment of thought, he knocked on the bathroom door and asked, “Do you want me to get your clothes for you?”

“No need!” Cheng Xun’s refusal was decisive. Then he added in a smaller voice, “I’ll get them myself in a bit.”

The subtext was: Please go downstairs immediately.

Lu Xingchu naturally caught the implication. He lowered his eyes and said, “Grandma called us for fruit. Remember to come down.” With that, he turned and headed downstairs.

Hearing the footsteps fade away, Cheng Xun let out a soft sigh of relief. He cracked the door open and slipped out like a thief. Once he had changed into his pajamas, he shuffled downstairs in his slippers.

A plate of sliced red watermelon sat on the dining table. He walked over, gave Grandma a small smile, and began to eat slowly.

Not long after he sat down, Lu Xingchu stood up, cleared his finished watermelon rinds, and said to Grandma, “I’m done, Grandma. Going to shower now.”

Grandma smiled and nodded.

Cheng Xun kept his head down, focused on his watermelon as if he didn’t care at all, only stealing a glance at Lu Xingchu’s figure right before it disappeared through the door.

“Did you two have a fight?”

Grandma’s voice suddenly rang out.

Cheng Xun nearly choked on his fruit, his heart racing with shock at how she had noticed. He immediately shook his head. “No, we didn’t.”

Grandma didn’t buy it. She offered some gentle advice: “It’s normal to bicker. Boys have a lot of fire in them; it’s common to bump heads every now and then.”

Cheng Xun kept his head buried in his food, his expression sheepish. No matter what Grandma said, he just nodded obediently.

After that day, they still went to class together, ate together, went home together, and studied together.

It seemed as if nothing had changed, yet it felt as if everything had.

Cheng Xun couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he felt Lu Xingchu had become… polite?

Then again, Cheng Xun had never really had much of a concept of “social distance” to begin with. Now that things had suddenly shifted to this, everything felt wrong.

The final exams left everyone exhausted. This time, Cheng Xun had completely messed up.

His mindset wasn’t great. Ever since he noticed Lu Xingchu’s deliberate distancing, he had started sulking as well. Although he couldn’t wrap his head around it—after all, he was the one who insisted on remaining just friends—now that it had actually happened, he felt stifled and irritable.

When he hit a wall with a study problem, he stubbornly refused to ask Lu Xingchu for help. It looked like they were both testing each other’s resolve, but in reality, it was just Cheng Xun twisting himself into knots.

After the exams were over, Cheng Xun’s heart was a mess of emotions. Only one thought occupied his mind: I’m doomed.

Fortunately, class placement was based on the average score of several exams. Even if he couldn’t get into the experimental class, he should at least make it into a regular class. Everyone knew that official policies forbade “special teaching” or “tiered treatment,” but in practice, local schools all turned a blind eye.

Holiday makeup classes were inevitable. To keep the university admission rates looking good, No. 9 High would tilt all its resources toward the seniors. They fought to guarantee the results of the two “key” classes.

The “slow” classes were labeled as “foundation” classes, but students placed there undoubtedly felt they had lost a point before even stepping into their senior year. Of course, the senior class rankings weren’t permanent; they changed almost every month based on exams. Even if you started in a key class, you couldn’t relax; if your grades slipped, you’d be swapped out during the next adjustment.

Because of his poor final exam results, Cheng Xun was listless and had no energy during the break. After staying home for two or three days, he began looking for a part-time job. Now that he was an adult, it was perfectly reasonable to earn some tuition money over the summer.

Of course, wanting to avoid Lu Xingchu was also a reason.

Looking at Lu Xingchu’s cold, handsome face made him feel flustered. A simple greeting made him feel flustered. Even silence made him feel flustered. It felt like ants crawling slowly over his heart—a sensation that was tingly, numb, and empty all at once.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

Cheng Xun found a job at a cake shop. It wasn’t overly busy, but the tasks were tedious. Though it was called a cake shop, they also sold drinks like milk tea and coffee, so he had a lot to learn while also handling the cleaning.

The shop wasn’t a high-end professional establishment—otherwise, they wouldn’t have hired a student. It wasn’t a franchise either; just a small shop opened by the owner’s wife out of personal interest.

The owner’s wife was skilled and a great cook. Her mille-feuille cakes, soy milk boxes, and mochi were all delicious. Cheng Xun didn’t have to wear a full uniform, but the staff all wore black T-shirts because they looked better with the aprons.

The apron was dark green with vertical stripes and a cute little bear embroidered on the chest.

Xie Qiubai had visited a few times since finding out Cheng Xun worked there. He’d order a bunch of random things and pack up whatever he couldn’t finish. Since there weren’t many customers, the owner’s wife didn’t mind him hanging around to chat with Cheng Xun.

Apparently, because there were so few liberal arts students at No. 9 High, they didn’t bother with “key” or “foundation” classes for that track; the school leadership just made four parallel classes and called it a day. The school really favored the sciences over the arts to an extreme degree…

This worked out for Xie Qiubai, though, as he wouldn’t have to deal with his class being reshuffled.

Cheng Xun’s mood had been gloomy lately, as if a rain cloud were hovering over his head. Even the thick-headed Xie Qiubai could see it. But whenever he asked, Cheng Xun just said “it’s nothing” or “it’s fine,” until Xie Qiubai felt too embarrassed to keep asking.

However, Xie Qiubai was an expert at bringing up the one thing he shouldn’t.

“Cheng Xun, can you and Lu Xingchu still be in the same class for senior year?” Xie Qiubai asked mindlessly, taking a sip of iced lemon tea. “He’s a lock for the science experimental class. How did your exams go?”

Cheng Xun shot him a ruthless glare, not wanting to answer.

Seeing his expression, Xie Qiubai understood most of it and tried to laugh it off. “Whatever, you guys live together anyway. Being in the same class doesn’t really matter.”

Since the owner’s wife wasn’t in the shop, Xie Qiubai could sit there and chatter. Seeing him step on landmines repeatedly, Cheng Xun finally said, exasperated, “Enough. Don’t mention him to me.”

To his surprise, Xie Qiubai got a knowing look on his face. “I knew it! You guys had a fight!” His tone was oddly excited.

Cheng Xun: “?” Is it that obvious? Why can even Xie Qiubai see it?

“That time in PE… when you got hit by the basketball and got a nosebleed. Did you guys get into a fistfight? The school rumors are wild—they say you two were brawling in the infirmary, beating each other until you were covered in blood.” Xie Qiubai spoke with total seriousness, as if he weren’t joking at all.

Cheng Xun was once again speechless. He said with difficulty, “…Rumors are dangerous.”