Morning and Evening Chapter 15

Chang Ming’an threw himself onto the bed. The blankets were still warm, reminding him of the warmth of their bodies when they had been pressed together, and the unique plum blossom scent that He Mu carried. Was it perfume? He had never seen him wear it before. He could smell it usually, but not like now, when it was steaming up.

He turned over, closed his eyes, his mind a jumble of thoughts, and couldn’t fall asleep for a long, long time. He had just relieved himself in the bathroom, his hands covered in the white, cloudy liquid, which he washed clean, even washing them three times with hand soap, and felt an indescribable sense of guilt.

He Mu was a contradictory being, bold yet timid, charming yet sensitive. His repeated help to He Mu suddenly turned into ulterior motives after tonight. He suddenly remembered seeing He Mu at the movie theater with a male companion, the screen light shining on his face, and how indifferent he was to his companion’s desire and intimacy.

He turned over again, the blanket rustling irritatingly.

Chang Ming’an rarely had trouble sleeping at night. He stayed up until he heard birds chirping outside the window before he finally drifted off to sleep. When the alarm rang, he felt as if he hadn’t slept all night.

He opened the bedroom door and found He Mu still asleep, curled up on the sofa like a cocoon. He went over and saw that He Mu was still frowning in his sleep, with half of his shoulder sticking out of the blanket, as if he was shivering from the cold. Chang Ming’an reached out to pull the blanket up for him, but found that he was curled up tightly, so he picked up the blanket that He Mu had carelessly thrown aside and covered him with it.

When He Mu woke up, he found a blanket draped over his shoulder, which smelled of Chang Ming’an.

All day long, he was very anxious. The area on his thigh that had been scalded by hot water the night before was red. He had been teaching all day and had sweated a lot. Covering himself up all day made the scalded area even more uncomfortable. When he took a shower in the evening and lifted his nightgown, he saw that his thigh was red and there were signs that the skin was about to peel off.

As he was watching, Chang Ming’an came home, opened the door, and took off his coat in the entryway.

For some reason, He Mu’s first reaction was to cover the hem of his nightgown. Chang Ming’an didn’t say a word, went into the room, gave him a bottle of cool mint balm, and then went into the bathroom to wash up.

He Mu examined the peppermint balm in his hand for a while before applying a thick layer to his legs.

He Mu initially thought that Chang Ming’an was no longer angry, but in the following days, He Mu discovered that Chang Ming’an was resisting him.

Of course, Chang Ming’an didn’t use cold words or a cold expression. He was still as warm as a spring breeze as ever, but he was a bit more distant than before. When the two of them were talking, his eyes would always unconsciously look away.

He Mu felt both disappointed and anxious, but what could he do?

He was like a little snail tentatively extending its tentacles, touching something, and then quickly retracting them back into its shell.

Gradually, He Mu became less willing to speak to Chang Ming’an. The two were eerily quiet at the dinner table, often not exchanging a single word until the meal was finished. He Mu reached out to clear the dishes, and his hand just touched Chang Ming’an’s outstretched hand. Both of them withdrew their hands simultaneously.

Chang Ming’an paused for a moment, then reached out again to gather the chopsticks together and said, “I’ll do it.”

He Mu found it very boring and thought to himself, “I’d rather not stay here anymore.”

To everyone’s surprise, Chang Ming’an said while tidying up the dishes, “My research project is almost finished. I don’t need to work overtime for the next few days, and I plan to go back to the city to live.”

He Mu felt a sudden jolt in his heart, but his face remained calm and composed, and he didn’t even know what he was saying.

“OK.”

The next day, He Mu returned home after class and sat on the sofa in a daze, watching the setting sun gradually stream in through the French windows of the balcony, then slowly recede, shrouding the living room in night. He was still alone. Mumu hadn’t been taken away; she was circling around his feet. After a long while, the phone rang. He Mu picked it up and saw that it was Chang Ming’an calling him.

“Hello.”

He Mu’s voice was a little hoarse, so he cleared his throat before replying, “Hello.”

Chang Ming’an was taken aback when he answered so quickly, and asked somewhat awkwardly, “Have you… eaten yet?”

He Mu lied through his teeth: “I ate it.”

“Oh,” Chang Ming’an said, “I didn’t water the flowers when I left home this morning.”

“Okay, I’ll water it.”

“That…”

Chang Ming’an suddenly fell silent, and He Mu didn’t know what to say in response. The two of them were speechless on the phone, and for a moment they could only hear each other’s breathing.

Chang Ming’an said softly, “Well… I’ll hang up now, goodnight.”

“Good night.”

They said goodnight to each other, but neither hung up for a long time, as if waiting for the other to hang up first. He Mu didn’t want to hang up, but he was afraid of hearing the busy tone the moment the other hung up, so he put his phone aside. When he picked it up again after a while, the call had already ended.

He collapsed onto the sofa, staring at his phone, his head spinning. He drifted off to sleep, only to be woken in the middle of the night by the cold wind blowing in from the wide-open balcony door. He sneezed twice, shakily got up, picked up the cat sleeping at his feet, and crawled into bed.

When he opened his eyes in the morning, he knew he was sick. His throat was parched and burning, and his head ached. No matter how tightly he rolled himself up in the blankets, he was still cold. He got up, grabbed the thermos, and gulped down a bellyful of water that had been boiled yesterday and was now lukewarm. He then fell back into bed, pulling Chang Ming’an’s blanket over himself, making it hard to breathe. He also tucked Chang Ming’an’s pillow into the blankets, hugged it to his chest, and fell asleep again.

He liked to go barefoot and didn’t like to wear clothes. When the season got cool, he easily caught a cold. Usually, he would curl up in bed and sleep for a day or two until he recovered. But this time, the illness seemed to come on fiercely. His bones ached all over. When he struggled to wake up, the sun was already setting. He had actually slept all day. When he picked up his phone, he found that it was out of battery and turned off.

There was a knock on the door.

He Mu didn’t want to pay attention; Chang Ming’an had the key, but it wasn’t Chang Ming’an.

To everyone’s surprise, Chang Ming’an’s anxious voice rang out from outside the door: “He Mu! Are you home!”

He Mu propped himself up on the bed, his feet feeling like they were walking on cotton, and walked out like a lost soul to open the door for Chang Ming’an. Chang Ming’an stood outside the door, his hand still raised in the air, ready to knock again, his face full of anxiety, and even in this chilly late autumn, beads of sweat were seeping from his forehead.

When Chang Ming’an saw him open the door, he breathed a sigh of relief, but his heart jumped again when he saw He Mu’s appearance. He Mu’s lips were pale and cracked, while his cheeks were flushed with a sickly flush. He looked listless and turned to sit on the sofa as if he couldn’t stand up. His eyes were unfocused as he stared blankly at Chang Ming’an.

“I came to get something, but I forgot my keys. I couldn’t reach you on your phone, and it was switched off. I called your advisor, and he said you didn’t go to class today,” Chang Ming’an explained in a rambling voice as he wrapped He Mu in a blanket.

Who knew that He Mu wasn’t listening at all, and sneezed loudly, looking pitiful.