Chapter 38 – He had always understood

Translator: Abo Dammen

After seeing the students to their dormitory building, Fu Nan’an tapped his white cane and began walking back alone.

It felt strangely unfamiliar to suddenly have no one by his side, but he had to get used to it again. Hadn’t he walked alone all those previous years? But it’s hard to be content with less once you’ve had the best; it’s difficult to go from extravagance back to frugality.

Things had reached a point where it was no longer up to him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. He had sought out Chi Zhao several times recently, but Chi Zhao was always busy, never having a spare moment.

He walked on step by step, with only the rhythmic tap of his cane in his ears. Fu Nan’an turned a corner and suddenly heard someone call out.

“Professor Fu?”

It was Chi Zhao’s voice.

Fu Nan’an’s footsteps halted.

Chen Kaiji, who hadn’t gone upstairs yet, called out excitedly from not far away. “Chi-ge! Weren’t you handling things at the school? How come you’re back?”

“Yeah, I just got back. Just finished my business,” Chi Zhao explained to Chen Kaiji, his tone warm and familiar. Hearing this, Fu Nan’an’s momentarily frozen steps began to move again.

Right. Chi Zhao was back, but what did that have to do with him?

He had so many friends. Perhaps he had just come for a friend.

Fu Nan’an turned around. He tapped his cane on the ground, preparing to continue his journey back, when suddenly Chi Zhao grabbed his wrist. Chi Zhao’s palm was warm. He had chased after Fu Nan’an without even stopping to exchange more than a few words with Chen Kaiji. His tone was somewhat urgent. “Professor, are you in a hurry to leave?”

“You…” The moment their skin touched, Fu Nan’an was momentarily stunned, but he quickly conjured a faint smile. “Why, is there something you need from me?”

He very naturally suggested many reasons for Chi Zhao. “Is there no one in your dorm? Did you forget your key? Did you leave something with me?”

There were too many possible reasons. Fu Nan’an didn’t, wouldn’t, and couldn’t let himself think of any others. Given how things were, what else was there to think about? He listed many reasons, but Chi Zhao denied them all. Chi Zhao just held tightly onto his wrist.

“There are people in the dorm, and I didn’t forget anything. I really haven’t been back because I was busy,” Chi Zhao said. “Didn’t you say before that you wanted to talk with me? So I came as soon as I was done.”

By the time Chi Zhao arrived near the hospital, it was already past nine in the evening. Knowing he had likely missed the dinner gathering, Chi Zhao’s original plan was to wait for Fu Nan’an directly at his doorstep. He never expected to run into Fu Nan’an and the others just as he was leaving the dorm.

Fu Nan’an’s fingers twitched slightly. He was just about to speak when he heard someone else say, “Hey, if it isn’t Xiao Chi! What brings you back!”

They were right at the entrance of the men’s dorm. Several senior brothers who hadn’t made it upstairs yet spotted Chi Zhao and immediately gathered around, even calling out the senior sisters from the neighboring dorm who had just returned. They insisted that Chi Zhao join them for a meal.

Pushed and pulled along like this, Chi Zhao was separated from Fu Nan’an. The senior brothers practically carried Chi Zhao off to a nearby barbecue stall.

Everyone still remembered the incident Chi Zhao had reported. Their initial lack of understanding had now transformed into profound gratitude. To persist and hold onto one’s convictions in such an isolating, helpless situation with no evidence was incredibly rare. If Chi Zhao had hesitated or retreated even for a moment, their entire project might have fallen through. Amidst their chatter, they directly steered Chi Zhao towards the nearby food stall. Chi Zhao was still holding Fu Nan’an’s hand, but he was forced to let go.

For the rest of the entire gathering, Fu Nan’an didn’t get a chance to speak to Chi Zhao alone.

The lab seniors were too enthusiastic. They were completely unaware of the undercurrents between Fu Nan’an and Chi Zhao. They simply seated Chi Zhao firmly in his place. The only fortunate thing was that Fu Nan’an, as the project lead, was also pressed into joining this second round of festivities.

It was unavoidable. It’s hard to refuse such genuine hospitality.

Skewers and beer were quickly served. Everyone had already eaten their fill at the first gathering, this round purely for Chi Zhao. They piled more than half of the skewers in front of him and took turns toasting him one after another.

The first to raise his glass was the senior brother who had been most critical of Chi Zhao during the reporting incident. “I was wrong about you, Xiao Chi. Back when you filed that report, I thought you were reckless and immature. But thinking about it now, if it weren’t for you, our project wouldn’t exist.”

The senior sister who had advised Chi Zhao many times also raised her glass. “No need for many words, Xiao Chi. I admire your courage.”

Everyone sincerely thanked Chi Zhao. They all circled around him, inadvertently leaving Fu Nan’an somewhat on the sidelines. This neglect was natural. Everyone knew the project’s success was inseparable from Fu Nan’an’s efforts. They wouldn’t deny what he had done. But Chi Zhao had truly displayed remarkable courage in this matter. Fu Nan’an understood this and felt it was what Chi Zhao deserved.

So he just sat quietly listening, occasionally lowering his head to take a small sip of tea.

The tea at this place seemed to have been steeped too long. It was overwhelmingly bitter on the tongue. The bitter sensation spread through his mouth, yet Fu Nan’an continued to sip it, one mouthful after another, experiencing its bitterness and astringency, and that faint, subtle fragrance of the tea leaves.

Chi Zhao was too good a person. He was brave, resilient, and unyielding in the face of power. He possessed too many wonderful qualities. He was too bright. Even though his eyes couldn’t see, Fu Nan’an felt the direction where Chi Zhao sat was like a ball of light. Chi Zhao was too outstanding. Realizing this filled Fu Nan’an with restlessness and helplessness. A soul like his deserved an equally passionate and radiant love. But Fu Nan’an couldn’t offer that same passion, or rather, he didn’t dare to be that passionate.

Fu Nan’an was not a brave enough person. The pain and trauma associated with his eyes were too longstanding and too sharp. Even though Fu Nan’an had always striven to achieve a state of perfection, he ultimately was not a perfect man. It wasn’t just physical imperfection. A small part of his heart was also incomplete.

In the eyes of outsiders, Fu Nan’an was a gentle, steady, erudite, and highly intellectual professor. But he was also an utterly ordinary person, a person with a disability.

He was more prone to insecurity and less firm than others. The flaw of his eyes was his eternal wound. He could prove his capabilities through hard work, but he didn’t dare try to parse an emotion as complex as love. Love was too all-encompassing; it was different from all other feelings. All joys and sorrows would be bestowed by one person. Fu Nan’an didn’t believe in love and didn’t dare to love. He hadn’t agreed to Chi Zhao’s confession precisely because he felt that love could change. Age was never the issue for him. He was afraid that after Chi Zhao saw his imperfect side, he would regret it.

But now, everything was over. Listening to the sound of Chi Zhao chatting with the others at the table, Fu Nan’an’s mood was exceptionally heavy.

It was heavy, yet steady. When Chi Zhao’s voice had first sounded by his ear, a flicker of anticipation had sparked within him, but now he had completely cooled down, like ashes after a fire had burned out.

He quietly listened to Chi Zhao’s conversation with the others, enduring the entire gathering. When the dinner ended, everyone tried to get Chi Zhao to go back with them, but Chi Zhao shook his head and said, “I still have something to do.”

A senior brother asked, “What is it?”

Chi Zhao said, “Something very important.”

The meal was over, and he had received everyone’s gratitude. Chi Zhao was growing impatient. After saying goodbye to the others, he took Fu Nan’an’s hand. Right there, in the small grove of trees next to the food stall, Chi Zhao took hold of Fu Nan’an’s hand again.

“Professor Fu.” Chi Zhao had come to apologize to him. “I’m late. I’ve been so busy these past few days. I really didn’t mean to not come find you. Please don’t be angry.”

His voice was low, but his hand was warm, like a small animal yearning for its long-absent owner. He was so intimate and dependent. Consequently, a sudden, restless irritation surged from the depths of Fu Nan’an’s heart. “Why?”

Chi Zhao was taken aback. “Why what?”

“You don’t need to apologize to me. You shouldn’t be looking for me,” Fu Nan’an asked him. “Why are you still coming to find me?”

Chi Zhao’s presence was too scorching that Fu Nan’an felt he was about to be set aflame too. It was unbelievable, incomprehensible. Chi Zhao was so outstanding, while he was not. Why, after realizing that Fu Nan’an wasn’t nearly as good as he seemed, did Chi Zhao still choose to draw near?

“Everything you said that day was right. You saw everyone’s attitude at the dinner today,” Fu Nan’an tried desperately to keep his thoughts calm, analyzing things for Chi Zhao. “I’m not as perfect as you imagined, nor am I that gentle and strong. Don’t you understand yet? I’m just an ordinary blind man. I get lost and make mistakes because of what others say. Stop coming to find me. I’m not worth your affection—”

“You are worth it. If I say you are, then you are.”

Fu Nan’an fell silent before he could finish his sentence. Chi Zhao looked up and kissed him on the lips.

Chi Zhao had regretted it the moment he left Fu Nan’an’s place that day. In the end, he had been impulsive, carried away by emotion. He never meant to say such harsh words. He could have chosen a more peaceful way, but he didn’t. He had clearly seen the pain and struggle in Fu Nan’an’s eyes.

“Be strong, be brave, defy authority, fight courageously”—saying these things is simple. Even a child knows these principles. But unless you’ve experienced it yourself, it’s hard to truly understand another person’s pain. Chi Zhao didn’t know what Fu Nan’an had been through.

Hadn’t Professor Fu ever struggled bitterly only to be denied anyway? Did he himself not want to be strong, to be brave, to be unyielding?

In the heat of the argument, Chi Zhao had indeed said hurtful things. But the moment he ran down from the rooftop, he regretted it. He wasn’t angry or disappointed, but what he actually felt was heartache. He ached that he couldn’t be there for Fu Nan’an during his most difficult and painful moments. His heart hurt for him. He wanted to hold him.

He wanted to hold him, and so he did.

Outside the small grove, the sounds of traffic came and went. Chi Zhao reached out and wrapped his arms around Fu Nan’an’s waist.

“I was frantic and said cruel things that day, but I was never disappointed in you. Whether you are worth it or not is for me to decide. I remember all the kindness you’ve shown me.”

As he spoke, Chi Zhao thought of many things. The cotton candy Fu Nan’an had once handed him, and the words Fu Nan’an had said the day he rejected him. His mind was filled with memories: the happiness Fu Nan’an had given him, and the sadness too. But all of it together formed the most genuine fabric of his affection.

Chi Zhao slowly closed his eyes, his tone softening. “Professor, I never thought you were a perfect person. I knew that from the day you said you liked me but then pushed me away.”

So, Chi Zhao had always understood. He had seen through him all along.

He knew he would be afraid, would be insecure. He had seen through the heart that was neither brave nor steadfast beneath that gentle exterior. He had never run away from him, nor had he pressured him. He had just quietly accompanied him by his side, silent and without words.

Quiet and small things can have power, too. Chi Zhao was like that. He wasn’t old, nor was he profoundly learned or wise, but he carried a light within him, brighter than any other.

Chi Zhao buried himself completely in Fu Nan’an’s embrace. He knew Fu Nan’an wasn’t perfect, nor did he need him to be. Love should be a process of two souls drawing near and healing each other. Chi Zhao’s tone was firm. “If you make a mistake, I’m willing to walk through it with you. If you don’t want a relationship, then I’ll wait. It’s you, the person you are, that I like. I like all of it, everything that comes with you. I’m willing to wait. Don’t push me away, alright?”

So it was true. There really were people who, even after witnessing all your vulnerability and awkwardness, were still willing to stay by your side. So it was true that there really were feelings that could ignite a dormant heart.

Chi Zhao’s voice was scalding, and so a single spark kindled a prairie fire, setting Fu Nan’an’s long-dormant heart ablaze. Whether it was fire or ashes no longer mattered. When the flames roared, all that remained before them was light.

He didn’t want to endure it anymore, and he couldn’t. Fu Nan’an lowered his head and kissed Chi Zhao’s lips.

Chi Zhao’s body fit perfectly into Fu Nan’an’s empty arms, and so the piece that was missing from the depths of his heart was, in this moment, finally made whole.