Chapter 12: Who could he possibly like

He didn’t want to dream about Ji Jixuan, but every time it happened against his will. He couldn’t control his dreams.

The Ji Jixuan in his dreams was different from the real one.

He was more outgoing. He would smile at Xu Lin, talk endlessly with him. The two would sit by the river embankment, watching the sun rise and set, watching spring turn to autumn. The sweetness of those dreams was a foreign sensation Xu Lin had never experienced before. So when he opened his eyes, the cold reality would strike him like a blow to the head.

The person in his dreams vanished, and it felt as if Xu Lin vanished along with him. His heart went still, as if it had stopped beating. His spirit, pulled out of his body, drifted and sank into an invisible deep sea, struggling, drowning, suffocating.

Being awake was unbearable.

That year, Yi Wei had joined a student theater club. At the end of the year, they would put on a performance. As the male lead, Yi Wei had a lot of lines. To be safe, he had to rehearse early, carrying his script around and memorizing it every day.

One day, only the two of them were in the dormitory. Yi Wei had been memorizing lines until he went crazy. He tossed the script on the table, covered his face, and wailed, “This is so annoying! These lines are impossible! What kind of dialogue is this?!”

Yi Wei’s play was about a nobleman from the last century and his love story with a commoner girl who worked as a maid. It was a tale of crossing class boundaries, struggling against a rotten, stubborn society and feudal aristocrats who valued matched social status and profit above all else. An old play about class, status, and love.

Yi Wei played the noble son.

Xu Lin picked it up and flipped through it. Seeing the flowery, archaic dialogue, he raised an eyebrow and understood Yi Wei’s frustration. He laughed. “Do people in Danshi even watch this kind of stuff?”

“You think it’s ridiculous too, right? And it’s adapted from an old movie!” Yi Wei agreed wholeheartedly. “It’s like a high-ranking Alpha from the main city falling in love with a low-quality Omega from the poorest slums. A pipe dream. Oh, I’m not discriminating against your hometown, I’m just making an analogy…”

Xu Lin knew he meant no harm and didn’t take it to heart. He flipped to a page and saw the nobleman’s confession to the commoner girl. He froze.

Yi Wei noticed his expression, glanced at the page, and immediately started complaining. “I’ve tried to memorize this part so many times. The lines are so cheesy they make my teeth ache. Hey, perfect! You’re free right now—help me run through the lines!” He said, “Help me practice!”

Before Xu Lin could object, Yi Wei found his fisherman’s hat, put it on backwards to serve as the nobleman’s crown, and struck a dramatic pose. “Quick, start from Sophia’s line!”

“…”

Xu Lin had no choice but to dryly read Sophia’s lines. “Love, what is love? Young master, you say you love me, but what do you love about me? We’ve barely spoken a few times, let alone met many times.”

Yi Wei clutched his chest, instantly immersing himself in his role. “Does love need a reason?”

“It happens in an instant, catching you off guard, leaving you defenseless.”

“Your warm, beautiful wooden house that feels like home. Your courtyard full of lilies of the valley. You playing with the stray dog you found among the flowers. And that glance you gave me when you saw me from afar, that smile—I became your shadow from that moment on.

“Through countless days and nights of dreaming of you, my feelings grew quietly in those moments. I cannot bear a single day without seeing you. Without you, I am no different from a soulless corpse.”

Xu Lin’s fingers curled around the paper.

“I believe you feel the same way.”

“You poured the same glass of milk for everyone, but you only added honey to mine. You brushed past countless people, but you only paused and turned back when you met me. If you only had one umbrella, on a stormy day, you would only hold it over my head.

“If you can give me a reason for treating me so specially, then I’ll admit I’ve been flattering myself, that I misread your intentions.

“Be honest with me.

“Are you happy when you’re with me? Do you look forward to the next meeting the moment we part?

“Please, hold your heart in your hands, ask it, and tell me.”

Xu Lin’s ears were ringing.

“My Sophia, you love me.”

For a while after that, Xu Lin felt like his soul had been drained. He drifted through his days in a daze, his head stuffed with cotton.

Especially when he saw Ji Jixuan at the embankment. Then the cotton would soak up water, clogging his mouth and nose, leaving him with very little oxygen. In front of Ji Jixuan, he would often forget to breathe—the simplest thing in the world.

Ji Jixuan came to the embankment less and less often, and the intervals between his visits grew longer.

Xu Lin had a nagging feeling that one day, Ji Jixuan would disappear completely. He could only try to hold on to this fleeting present.

The first autumn rain after the height of summer came with a vengeance.

It fell suddenly, pouring down from the clouds with overwhelming force. The dense raindrops seemed intent on turning the earth into a soggy mess of a biscuit.

At that moment, Xu Lin and Ji Jixuan were sitting side by side on the embankment. Both were drenched to the bone. Xu Lin’s sharp eyes spotted a bridge arch not far away. He grabbed Ji Jixuan and pulled him under the bridge to take shelter from the rain.

Ji Jixuan, being pulled along, stared intently at Xu Lin’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. His brow furrowed slightly.

Xu Lin didn’t notice.

With the downpour, the sky had turned dark and oppressive, tinged with an eerie red.

The curtain of rain was blown sideways by the wind, sweeping into the bridge arch. Xu Lin wrung the water from his clothes. When he turned to look at Ji Jixuan, he saw him with his head bowed, wet hair hanging over his forehead, dripping steadily.

It was the first time Xu Lin had seen him looking so disheveled.

He couldn’t help but laugh. He rubbed his own head and said, “Now you see the advantage of a buzz cut, right?”

He pulled a tissue from his pocket and handed it over. This had become a habit ever since he learned about Ji Jixuan’s cleanliness obsession.

Ji Jixuan pushed his wet hair back, revealing his forehead. His face, in the gray rain and mist, was as white as flawless porcelain.

A tiny speck of mud had splattered on his forehead.

Ji Jixuan wiped the rain from his face, but no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get rid of that insignificant speck of mud. Xu Lin took a tissue, tilted his head up slightly, and reached out to wipe his forehead.

They were now very close.

As he was about to pull his hand back, his eyes shifted to the right. He saw his own enlarged reflection in Ji Jixuan’s calm, amber-colored pupils.

For a moment, Xu Lin’s breath seemed to stop.

[Love, what is love?]

Boom!

Thunder in the distance crawled across the sky, jolting Xu Lin back to his senses. He stepped back, putting a meter of distance between himself and Ji Jixuan.

He leaned against the wall, staring down at his own shoes.

It took him several shaky attempts to pull out his cigarette pack. His hands were trembling.

There were two cigarettes left.

He put one between his lips. After a moment’s thought, he offered the remaining one to Ji Jixuan.

“They’re not… very good cigarettes. Want one?” His tongue felt tied, the words stumbling out.

Xu Lin bit his tongue in frustration, trying to get his stiff tongue to cooperate.

Ji Jixuan was silent for a long moment. Then he reached out and took the cigarette, placing it between his lips.

Click— Xu Lin lit his own first, then brought the lighter to Ji Jixuan’s mouth.

Click. Click.

The rain had killed the flame.

The lighter had given its life in vain.

In the dim bridge arch, only the ember of Xu Lin’s cigarette glowed red.

Ji Jixuan was still waiting.

Xu Lin’s fingers slipped—whether from rain or sweat, he didn’t know. He could no longer hold the lighter.

He lowered his hand and put the lighter back in his pocket.

He took a small step closer to Ji Jixuan, tilted his head back, and pressed his cigarette to the one between Ji Jixuan’s lips.

Smoke swirled, obscuring the faces so close to each other.

And so the embers were paired.

One touch, then apart. Xu Lin retreated back to a safe distance.

The two stood on opposite sides of the bridge arch, smoking in silence. The rain formed curtains on both sides, like two transparent veils, vaguely revealing their figures. The veils seemed to frame only the two of them in this small space, shutting out the rest of the world.

It felt as if, between heaven and earth, only the roaring rain remained.

No, that wasn’t right. There was also the sound of Xu Lin’s heart, pounding so loud it might burst his eardrums.

It threatened to drown out the torrential rain.

[“It happens in an instant, catching you off guard, leaving you defenseless.”]

When the rain eased slightly, Xu Lin couldn’t stay any longer. He felt that if he stayed, Ji Jixuan would hear his heartbeat.

He kept his head down, a pale strip of his neck exposed to the air. He stubbed out his cigarette and said quietly, “I’m going back to school.”

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Ji Jixuan’s face.

He fled into the rain that had yet to fully stop. Heavy raindrops pelted him, his clothes soaked through, his steps heavy. He hadn’t run far when he stopped.

Beneath his feet were soft blades of grass. Xu Lin blinked away the droplets clinging to his eyelashes. After a few seconds, he smiled, turned around, and said to Ji Jixuan, “See you next time, Ji Jixuan.”

Night and the dense, chaotic rain intertwined, the mist blurring Ji Jixuan’s figure under the bridge. Xu Lin could no longer see him clearly—only that tiny, firefly-like glow still burning bright.

It was the cigarette between Ji Jixuan’s fingers.

He didn’t hear Ji Jixuan’s voice. He couldn’t see his expression.

Ji Jixuan didn’t answer him.

Xu Lin was used to his silence; it didn’t bother him. He smiled, cupped his hand over his head, and walked away with light steps.

[“Are you happy when you’re with me? Do you look forward to the next meeting the moment we part?”]

Ji Jixuan stood alone under the bridge.

The sensation of Xu Lin’s touch still lingered on his forehead and wrist. All he could see was the face that had been right in front of him just moments ago—drenched, with eyes so dark they held no impurities, and droplets of water sliding slowly from the corners of his eyes and brows, down his neck, and into his collar.

How long was he going to keep using these tactics?

His tolerance and indulgence seemed to have encouraged Xu Lin to push further and further.

If Xu Lin could just stay content as a transparent wisp of air, maybe this place could still be a refuge. But he clearly wasn’t satisfied with simple conversation anymore.

Ji Jixuan rubbed his wrist with his thumb in irritation, but he still couldn’t erase the mark Xu Lin had left behind.

He had thought he’d finally found a quiet, undisturbed spot. But it seemed this place was no longer peaceful either.

There were always too many uninvited guests.

Ji Jixuan dropped the cheap cigarette between his fingers and crushed it underfoot.

That autumn rain sent away the sweltering summer.

And it took Ji Jixuan with it.

After the rain, no matter how many times Xu Lin went back to that embankment, he never ran into him again.

He’d said “see you next time,” but the next time never came.

His encounters with Ji Jixuan felt like nothing more than an ethereal dream. Those two months became an illusion in Xu Lin’s mind. Ji Jixuan had simply vanished, like a fog you couldn’t touch or see.

The only connection Xu Lin had to him was severed.

Yi Wei noticed Xu Lin’s change immediately.

“You’ve been so down lately. Did something happen?”

Late at night in the dormitory, Xu Lin leaned back in his chair, a paper dragonfly folded from a cigarette pack balanced on the tip of his nose. The only scent left on it was tobacco—the faint floral fragrance had long since faded away.

He didn’t move. “No,” he said.

Yi Wei pointed at his face. “You really should look in the mirror. With that dejected look, anyone would think you just got your heart broken.”

Heartbroken.

Why would he think that?

Xu Lin had never been in love, had never liked anyone. Growing up, all he’d ever done was struggle to survive; he’d never thought about anything beyond that. Since he’d never been in a relationship, how could he be heartbroken?

To be heartbroken, you first had to like someone, right?

Like. Like?

Who could he possibly like?

[“Through countless days and nights of dreaming of you, my feelings grew quietly in those moments. I cannot bear a single day without seeing you. Without you, I am no different from a soulless corpse.”]

The only person who appeared in his mind was him.

Xu Lin flinched. The paper dragonfly fell from his nose.

He bent down to pick it up, holding it in a daze.

[“Be honest with me. Please, hold your heart in your hands, ask it, and tell me.”]

Ji Jixuan.

[“My Sophia, you love me.”]