Morning and Chapter 35

He Mu changed into his usual hoodie, hands tucked into the front pocket, waiting for Chang Ming’an to go out with him. Chang Ming’an came up behind him, wrapped both arms around his waist, and slipped his hands into the same pocket so that all four of theirs rested together. He Mu blushed and tickled Chang Ming’an’s palms with his fingers.

They had become suddenly intimate. In bed it had felt natural, but now that they stood fully clothed and looking at each other it felt a little strange. They liked it, yet they were shy.

Chang Ming’an pulled his hands free, ears turning red, and said in a serious tone, “I have only one class. Why don’t you sleep a little longer? I’ll come pick you up afterward.”

He Mu would not hear of it. He wanted to stay glued to Chang Ming’an’s side and insisted on going out together.

Chang Ming’an was in the habit of arriving early. He usually went to his office first to gather materials before heading to the classroom. He Mu did not follow him there. Instead he went straight to the lecture hall. Taking advantage of the early hour, he slipped in the moment the previous class ended and claimed a seat in the very center of the first row. He even took out a book and laid it face-down on the desk so that it looked as though he belonged. Professor Chang’s classes were still popular; the room filled quickly. The front row was packed with students who had come to listen attentively, unlike last time when the seats on either side had been occupied by girls who were only there to look at him.

He Mu sat in his place feeling a tangle of emotions. The last time he had sat in this classroom listening to Chang Ming’an lecture, he had felt uneasy, sensitive, and bitter. Now the moment he saw Chang Ming’an walk through the door an indescribable joy rose in his chest, like a balloon inflated to its fullest.

Chang Ming’an stood on the podium, removed his coat and draped it to one side, put on his glasses, glanced up, and met He Mu’s eyes. He looked away at once, then looked up again. He Mu was watching him with his chin resting on one hand, more focused than the most diligent student in the room.

Class began. Chang Ming’an wore a dark gray turtleneck sweater that day, neatly pressed. He lectured at his usual unhurried pace, yet every so often he paused for the briefest moment. Before any student could notice he would pick up the thread and continue. The reason was simple: while everyone else was bent over their notes, He Mu looked up and smiled at him.

Under the eyes of the entire class the two of them played a private game. The rules were narrowed eyes, upturned lips, and flushed cheeks.

When the lecture ended He Mu stood quietly to one side while Chang Ming’an answered students’ questions. One girl had been struggling with a problem for a long time. Chang Ming’an explained it patiently. In the end she felt embarrassed, thinking He Mu was also waiting for help, and apologized to him before she left.

“Oh, classmate, I’m sorry. Please go ahead and ask.”

He Mu leaned against the podium, watching Chang Ming’an pack his things. He winked and said, “Teacher Chang, there’s something I don’t understand.”

Chang Ming’an played along, pretending ignorance. “What don’t you understand?”

He Mu extended two fingers, making them walk like a little person’s legs across the desk until they landed on Chang Ming’an’s hand. In a drawn-out voice he sighed, “Are we still doing it tonight…?”

Chang Ming’an caught the fingers, tossed the last book into his bag, and bent down to peck him lightly on the lips.

When it came to the bedroom He Mu was rarely shy, yet this brief, chick-pecking-at-rice kind of kiss made his face burn and he pulled his hand away.

Like any ordinary couple they did the ordinary things a date required: watched a movie, had dinner, and sat close in the dim theater. He Mu found everything endlessly interesting. Even the bucket of popcorn Chang Ming’an bought for him tasted especially good, and he finished every kernel with gusto.

They could not hold hands openly, only brush the backs of their hands together now and then or let their fingers tangle for a moment. Near the end of the film He Mu leaned close to Chang Ming’an’s ear and whispered, “Next time we go out I can wear a cheongsam. Then we can hold hands properly and go on a date.”

A sharp, aching pain went through Chang Ming’an’s heart, as though someone had squeezed it tight. When the movie ended he took He Mu’s hand and refused to let go even after they stepped into the brightly lit lobby. He Mu was terrified. “What if you run into someone you know?”

Seeing him look like a startled rabbit, Chang Ming’an finally released him, led him around a corner into a quieter place, cupped his face, and kissed him until they were both breathless.

Before going home Chang Ming’an took He Mu to a suit shop to have a suit made. He Mu shook his head at once. “Why? I don’t wear things like that.”

Chang Ming’an answered, “You’ll be a senior next year. It’s time for graduation photos. How can you not have one?”

He Mu had never thought about it. Every graduation season the campus filled with students in formal clothes and gowns, posing with their families in every corner, standing with the friends and classmates who had been beside them for four years, tossing their caps into the air before walking out of the gates.

He had never planned any of that, nor imagined himself in a suit. He hesitated. “Renting any old one would be fine.”

“No.”

Chang Ming’an refused him gently but firmly and asked the sales assistant to take his measurements, insisting the clothes fit perfectly and look good on him.

After the measuring was finished they headed home, still talking on the way.

“The clothes are beautiful. All my suits are made here. I’ll take pictures of you later. I wish I were a teacher at your college so I could move your tassel.”

He Mu listened in silence, fingers fiddling with the seatbelt. Once they were inside the apartment, before Chang Ming’an could even change, He Mu pounced on him, kissing and clinging, trying to pull him toward the bed. Chang Ming’an pinched his waist. He Mu groaned. He had been up all night and out all day; his lower back was still sore.

Chang Ming’an tugged lightly at his ear. “Take a bath and go to sleep.”

He Mu buried his face against Chang Ming’an’s chest and said in a muffled voice, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Chang Ming’an kissed the top of his head. “Thank you too.”

He Mu bumped his forehead against the solid chest. “What are you thanking me for? I didn’t give you anything.”

“The movie you chose was good.”

He Mu protested, “What’s so good about it? I didn’t even watch carefully.”

Whenever the leads on screen held hands, Chang Ming’an had squeezed his fingers. When they kissed, He Mu had put a piece of popcorn into his mouth, and he had eaten it and even licked the tip of He Mu’s finger. Yet he had genuinely enjoyed the film and felt extremely happy afterward.

Chang Ming’an thought for a moment and chuckled. “I didn’t watch carefully either.”