CFHE Chapter 74.1

Ge Ran returned to her seat in a daze.

 

Her daze was so obvious that Xu Qianyi looked back at her several times.

 

“What, is the blow of rejection that big?” She leaned over to whisper.

 

Ge Ran shook her head blankly: “I think I learned something incredible…”

 

Xu Qianyi happened to be eating breakfast, with a box of yogurt in her mouth. Hearing this, she raised an eyebrow and teased: “What big thing? Did you discover that Wen Yu and Fu Yuhan are a couple?”

 

Ge Ran’s dazed eyes suddenly widened: “You know?!”

 

“…I was just guessing.” Xu Qianyi drank her yogurt, “It’s really true? I always felt they were weird… no wonder Wen Yu went out. Where are they now?”

 

“They’re…” Ge Ran murmured.

 

They were in the empty building, in the dark corner where there were no lights and sunlight could barely reach directly.

 

Two slender figures overlapped together, veins faintly visible on the long neck, hot breath clearly present in the cold air.

 

Wen Yu pressed Fu Yuhan’s shoulders firmly, turning passionate entanglement into light, dragonfly-like kisses.

 

Moist and shallow.

 

He bit his lips, kissed between his teeth, reached down to touch the other’s drooping fingertips, inserting into the gaps between fingers, interlocking their ten fingers.

 

Compared to his rapid breathing and urgent movements, this kiss seemed overly cautious.

 

Fu Yuhan seemed stunned, not moving for a long time, only passively accepting the other’s nibbling.

 

Wen Yu kissed for a while, gripped his hand tightly, quietly pulled back a little, looked at him and smiled: “You didn’t push me away.”

 

“I…” Fu Yuhan finally found his voice, murmuring quietly, “I wanted to push you away.”

 

Wen Yu’s gaze darkened, and his fingertips unconsciously loosened.

 

“But I don’t want you to misunderstand.” Fu Yuhan looked down at their clasped hands, “I don’t want to push you away because I hate you, I’m just… a bit angry.”

 

“Angry about what?” Wen Yu asked, “Honestly, I still don’t know why you suddenly got angry… and opposed me?”

 

Fu Yuhan rolled his eyes at him.

 

“I misspoke, you would never do something so childish.” Wen Yu quickly corrected himself, “Then why?”

 

Fu Yuhan lowered his head and thought.

 

“That box of stars… were some of my old drawings that I specially folded and brought over just to burn.” He said quietly, “There was no ‘wanting to give them to Yang Fan but not daring to.’ You overthought it.”

 

Rectangular sketch papers cut in half, the square parts folded into eight-pointed stars, the remainder torn into strips to fold other stars, unknowingly accumulating a whole jar.

 

Wen Yu was stunned.

 

Old drawings…?

 

“What old drawings?” His voice suddenly trembled slightly, and his hand unconsciously gripped Fu Yuhan’s tighter.

 

“Just some pointless old sketches without beginning or end.” Fu Yuhan looked up at him, “Hey, Yu-ge, you kissed me, don’t you have anything to say to me?”

 

Wen Yu held his hand in silence for a moment, then said softly: “The old sketches… do you mean Yang Fan?”

 

Fu Yuhan glanced at him.

 

“I saw them by accident…” Wen Yu looked up, and the moment he saw Fu Yuhan’s expression, he hurriedly explained, “I didn’t mean to look, really, I just casually pulled out a notebook from your drawer to flip through that day, I thought it was scratch paper…”

 

“…Forget it, if you saw it, you saw it.” Fu Yuhan smiled self-mockingly, “Yes, that’s right, they were old drawings of Yang Fan.”

 

He paused here, suddenly sniffled, and when he spoke again, his voice carried an indescribable melancholy: “Those were all scenes I imagined. Before… when I missed him terribly, I’d take them out and draw one. But once when I went out with him, I realized I’d been drawing his nose a bit too long all along, and his eyes weren’t quite right either.” He chuckled lightly, “Actually, he doesn’t look like what’s in my mind at all.”

 

Unrequited love was like having an invisible little person in your brain pick up a paintbrush, with memories as the canvas, and as days passed, painting that scroll more and more beautifully.

 

Looking back, you realize reality had long since diverged thousands of miles from the mental idealization.

 

But it was all in the past now.

 

“Is that all you wanted to say?” Fu Yuhan said, glancing at him after finishing.

 

Wen Yu didn’t speak for a moment.

 

Seeing him like this, Fu Yuhan’s mouth twitched, and he lifted his leg to leave: “Then I’m going.”

 

“Hey, don’t,” Wen Yu pulled him back, “Xiao Han! Be with me!”

 

Fu Yuhan looked down at the hand holding his, silent.

 

“No.” After a long while, he said, “I’m still angry.”

 

“What exactly are you angry about?” Wen Yu was helpless.

 

“You asked me before if I wanted to be with you. At that time I thought you were joking, but later I realized you were serious.”

 

“You discovered it early on?” Wen Yu was stunned, “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“It was precisely because I discovered you were serious that I didn’t say anything.” Fu Yuhan looked up and took a long breath, “I hadn’t even sorted myself out yet. Even if I had asked, what response could I have given you?”

 

He had thought about asking on the night of the coming-of-age ceremony, but then thought it wasn’t necessary.

 

If the other person was serious, how could he not be serious too?

 

Wen Yu was speechless—he had no idea Fu Yuhan had thought about so much.

 

“During this time, I bought new sketchbooks and drew you. I didn’t want to draw the same things. Those drawings of Yang Fan were all imagined by me, but the drawings about you are all ‘diary entries.'” Fu Yuhan pressed his lips together, his gaze drifting elsewhere, his voice cold, “In front of Yang Fan, I burned all the drawings I made of him… For me, this was a ‘ritual’—”

 

He took a deep breath, “‘I’ve sorted myself out, I want to get close to you.’—But you… Wen Yu.”

 

He finally turned his gaze back, staring at the other person, the corners of his eyes tinged with a faint redness that hadn’t yet emerged.

 

“You’d rather be blindly jealous, rather sulk in silence than ask me one more question. So I want to ask you—”

 

“Since you already like me, why won’t you trust me a little more?”

 

“Xiao Han…” Wen Yu gripped his hand, urgently wanting to say something.

 

“Is it so hard to tell me you’re jealous? Oh, having one-sided feelings for someone, never speaking up means never being rejected, almost invincible—I understand that feeling, that’s how I got through it.” Fu Yuhan smiled bitterly, “You’re right, after all, I did reject you several times before, I deserved it—it’s just that I thought, since we’re together every day, you could at least sense that I’m not that indifferent either…”

 

His voice grew quieter and quieter until Fu Yuhan finally couldn’t continue.

 

He sniffled lightly and turned to leave.

 

Wen Yu snapped back to his senses and lunged forward to hug him from behind around the waist—

 

“Let go!” Fu Yuhan frowned, trying to pry off his arms that were like iron hoops.

 

In the struggle, his palm touched something cold and hard. Looking down, he actually saw an almost identical watch on Wen Yu’s wrist, which should be a pair with the one given to him.

 

Winter clothing was thick, and he had hidden it in his sleeve before, so Fu Yuhan hadn’t seen it. Just like that resin ball necklace he didn’t know how long he’d been wearing.

 

Wen Yu was always like this, doing everything in secret, unwilling to claim any credit.

 

Speaking of which, was it “unwilling” or “not daring”?

 

“I won’t let go!” Wen Yu gritted his teeth, “I know I was wrong, Xiao Han, it’s my problem, I made you suffer… I’ll change, okay? You told me to drink less, told me to live more authentically, I’ve been trying hard to listen!”

 

Fu Yuhan’s movements paused.

 

“But you’d rather secretly buy couple’s watches than say one more word.” He looked down at Wen Yu’s hand and said coldly, “Let go!”

 

“I won’t let go,” Wen Yu said, “I won’t let go, I’ll never let go again. Even if you beat me to death, I won’t let go!”

 

Anger rushed to his head, and Fu Yuhan didn’t think much before actually elbowing him back.

 

He didn’t hold back this time, but Wen Yu, who usually had strong reflexes, didn’t dodge and took the hit directly.

 

“Hiss—you actually hit me…” His abdomen struck, Wen Yu instinctively arched his back, the pain making his mouth twitch. He recovered a bit, loosened his arms and said: “Fine, if hitting me can make you feel better, then hit me. I absolutely won’t dodge—just don’t leave.”

 

Fu Yuhan turned around, clenching his fist and staring at him.

 

Wen Yu spread his hands toward him, his face completely unguarded: “Come on.”

 

The young man’s rich, mellow voice, the cool, damp morning air, strangers jogging in the distance, and their occasional glances when passing by.

 

Fu Yuhan narrowed his eyes, raised his fist and walked over.

 

Wen Yu took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and prepared to take a hit.

 

The footsteps got closer and closer until they were right in front of him. Fu Yuhan raised his hand—

 

Then embraced that upright figure completely.

 

Wen Yu was stunned and opened his eyes, his gaze momentarily confused.

 

His waist was narrow, usually hidden under clothes supported by broad shoulders, giving him an unexpectedly fragile quality.

 

Like a vulnerable soul hiding in a hard shell.

 

Fu Yuhan buried his face down, breathing in the scent of his clothes.

 

That person used sandalwood-scented laundry detergent and cypress-scented body wash, his whole being saturated with woody fragrance, like a tree—cold, hard, and reserved.

 

Actually, he was clearly a very soft person, but unfortunately no one was willing to peel him open layer by layer—

 

An onion? No, the scent wasn’t that strong.

 

Fu Yuhan thought this person was probably a coconut spirit—crack it open and it would be clear and sweet.

 

“Xiao Han?”

 

Wen Yu’s voice was very light, as if afraid of disturbing something, and also like he was confirming, “Xiao Han?”

 

“I’m here.” Fu Yuhan’s ear tips tickled from being called, “What are you calling me for?”

 

“Lift your head up.” Wen Yu hugged back his slender body, lightly sniffing the hair by his ear, using his lips to peck and kiss the other’s ear tip and cheek, “I can’t kiss you like this.”

 

“Then just don’t kiss me.” Fu Yuhan dodged his annoying movements, moving his forehead to the side.

 

“That won’t do.” Wen Yu thought for a moment, “Let go of me.”

 

If they weren’t pressed together, he could kiss him.

 

He thought quite optimistically, but Fu Yuhan didn’t understand at all and said coolly: “You really want me to let go?”

 

That rising intonation seemed to contain deeper meaning. Wen Yu was choked by him and instinctively blurted out: “No.”

 

He paused, his mind slightly clearing from the dizziness caused by this embrace, and a thought hidden deep in his heart quietly emerged.

 

“Don’t let go of me.” He said, “Stay, be with me…”

 

Fu Yuhan chuckled softly twice and reached out to hold him tighter. After a moment, he turned his head and tried to place a light kiss on Wen Yu’s neck.

 

In the faint fragrance of cypress, he said softly: “Yu-ge, you need to trust me more, don’t be afraid. Since I’ve decided to stay, I won’t leave.”

 

Self-protection that keeps others at a distance could be called “maturity,” but it could also be called “cowardice.”

 

The openness of embracing the world with an open heart could be called “naivety,” but it could also be called “courage.”

 

Wen Yu was a coward, and he wanted to pull him up to stand.

 

Wen Yu lowered his eyes: “This is the fourth request you’ve made of me… I’ll try hard to change.”

 

“What were the other three?”

 

“Be more real, drink less,” Wen Yu smiled, “and learn to do housework.”

 

“…” Fu Yuhan wanted to laugh a little, “So have you done housework?”

 

“If you come to my house tonight, I can fold blankets for you to see.”

 

“…Weirdo.” Fu Yuhan punched him lightly, “Let’s go, time to go back.”

 

The bell for morning self-study had already rung not long ago. The students jogging on the playground had long since left, with only the occasional young teacher without classes exercising and passing by.

 

“Xiao Han!”

 

The arm around Fu Yuhan’s waist tightened, and Wen Yu forcibly pulled him back, his right hand threading through the pleasant-feeling short hair at the back of his head, kissing him again, “Wait a bit more before going back…”

 

“Mmph…”

 

–

 

The two embraced for a while before leaving. There were no longer any morning exercisers on the playground, the sun had fully risen, and the playground was bathed in golden light.

 

The snow had melted—today was a good day.

 

The two walked on the rubber track one after the other.

 

“What’s wrong now? Why are you unhappy again?” Wen Yu followed about a meter behind him, saying helplessly, “I just suggested you come to my house tonight, didn’t I? You used to stay over before. How come now that we’ve talked things through, you’re unwilling to go? Can’t you keep me company?”

 

Fu Yuhan stopped and looked back at him.

 

Wen Yu caught up and stood in front of him.

 

They had already left the empty building—this was the playground, a public area where people could come at any time. He couldn’t directly embrace him.

 

But his body unconsciously wanted to get close to his new boyfriend. His entire upper body leaned forward, as if he might fall onto the other person at any moment: “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t leave? What’s wrong with keeping me company?”

 

Strangely, his tone clearly had no fluctuation and his expression was natural, but Fu Yuhan still felt like he was acting spoiled.

 

Fu Yuhan thought for a while, his mouth twitching: “Staying at your house is no problem, but…”

 

Wen Yu lazily: “Mm?”

 

“We have class tomorrow, Yu-ge.” Fu Yuhan tactfully reminded him.

 

Wen Yu was stunned, then turned his head and laughed out loud.

 

After a while he said: “Where did your mind go? I won’t do anything, okay? Today is Valentine’s Day—it wouldn’t make sense for you to go home, would it?”

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)