Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
14
After filming, the guests were invited onto the red carpet for the press event.
Zhou Yewang was there too, but he had another engagement beforehand, so we arrived separately.
Instinctively, I started toward him.
My manager caught my shoulders with a pained smile.
“Your Majesty, we have work to do first.”
I obediently followed him to my red-carpet partner.
Xiao Jian took delight in my misfortune.
“Got scolded? You do nothing but stick to Zhou Yewang. Like a newly hatched chick.”
We were in the same acting cohort.
Impeccable before the cameras.
An incurable chatterbox in private.
I punched him without hesitation.
“What’s it to you? Going around provoking everyone. Feeling neglected because Wei-ge’s away on business?”
That shut him down.
I was delighted.
A camera turned toward us.
I quickly withdrew my fist and put an arm around his shoulders instead, pretending we were close.
“A chameleon couldn’t act as well as you,” he muttered, his smile still perfect.
“You’re one to talk.”
I tightened my grip on his shoulder.
Then I felt something and looked around.
At the far end of the carpet, Zhou Yewang was watching us.
I had nothing to feel guilty about.
I still let go.
“Hey. I’ll be generous today.”
Xiao Jian raised an eyebrow.
“Help your romance along.”
“Really? How?”
I pricked up my ears, though I knew nine things out of ten that came out of his mouth were nonsense.
“You’ve got an eyelash on your face. Come closer. I’ll get it.”
Unsuspicious, I leaned in, still waiting for his answer.
Suppressed screams rose around us.
I looked about in confusion.
Cameras had surrounded us.
Flashes burst like white flowers, dazzling my eyes.
Behind us, fans were whispering nonstop.
“I ship it!”
“Sorry, Wangwang, just letting myself have one little taste!”
“It’s fine. I ship Cheng Can with everyone!”
Only then did I understand.
From another angle, Xiao Jian looked as though he were kissing me.
Even though there was room for another person between us.
“What the hell?”
My expression slipped.
Disgust showed plainly on my face.
Before I could step away, Zhou Yewang strode over, caught my wrist, and pulled me off.
I jumped.
Had he teleported?
How had he moved that fast?
He said nothing.
Just led me away.
Looking back, I saw that Xiao Jian’s smug expression had turned ashen.
He was staring at a man in a leather jacket and dark glasses beyond the carpet.
Wei-ge was back.
I couldn’t help laughing.
What went around really did come around.
“In a good mood? Still laughing?”
Zhou Yewang put an arm around my waist.
His eyes looked dangerous.
With no one nearby, he pushed me into the car, locked the doors, and leaned close.
“When you said you wanted to get closer… how close did you mean?”
“Where are you putting your hands? You’re creasing my shirt!”
“The red carpet’s over.”
He caught the tail that had suddenly appeared and used it to bind my wrists.
“Let’s go home.”
15
We sped all the way back.
The moment we entered, my jacket was pulled off.
His gaze was like bubbling syrup.
Hot.
Churning.
Had his feelings always been this intense?
His kisses fell in a disorderly trail, moving lower and lower.
The heat nearly burned me alive.
Collarbones.
Chest.
Waist.
Each place seemed to catch fire beneath him.
I caught his hair.
“What’s the rush? Xiao Jian was only playing to the camera angle. You could tell…”
At the mention of that name, a wave of warmth engulfed me.
“I know. I know he planned it too.”
His voice was muffled.
“So why not give him what he wanted?”
In the entryway mirror, I saw my own flushed face.
The little wings on my back fluttered endlessly.
Too small to fly.
Yet every beat intensified the sensation.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed at his forehead.
He only held me closer.
A noisy joy spread through my blood, leaving me numb.
I was a feather beyond its own control, tumbling through still air.
But he did not stop.
He kept advancing on a fortress that had surrendered long ago.
At last, I could bear no more.
I passed out.
16
I dreamed of the past.
When we first met, Zhou Yewang barely spoke.
Long bangs covered his eyes.
He was thin as a stick.
Even before he arrived, the words transfer student had been discussed over and over.
A rare trace of sweetness in the flavorless gum of daily life, chewed until there was nothing left.
“I… I’m Zhou Yewang. Wang.”
He stumbled a little during his introduction.
Strange looks passed around the room.
Cruelty in the young was always so direct.
Some deliberately copied the way he spoke.
Others knocked over his desk.
He seemed remarkably immune.
He kept moving through the laughter alone.
“You’re so boring.”
When they tried another childish provocation, I frowned.
They lost interest and left, swearing.
I turned around.
Zhou Yewang was looking at me.
We were deskmates.
But this was the first time we had looked each other in the eye.
“Strange…” he murmured. “Your face… isn’t like theirs.”
I stared.
“Everyone looks different… Unless you’re face-blind?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded.
I hadn’t expected to guess correctly.
After that, naturally, we became friends.
Gradually, I discovered how little he wanted materially.
What looked like calm was really a lack of interest in anything around him.
The earlier provocations had barely stirred him.
Those faces simply couldn’t remain in his memory.
They were forgotten almost at once.
Like water dissolving into water.
I once asked what face blindness felt like.
“Everyone looks drawn in the same style. Little dots for eyes. Like rough sketches.
“Even my own face.”
By then, his speech was much more fluent.
He brushed snow from my hair.
“But you’re different, Cheng Can.
“The moment you appear, my world goes high-definition.”
I had heard countless compliments about my looks.
His was the most unusual.
Being the only person he could see clearly gave me a satisfaction I had never known.
I was taller than him then.
To hide my warming face, I hooked an arm over his shoulders and pushed him down.
“Then you’re lucky I’m the one you can see. This handsome face is all-natural. No technology required!”
He laughed softly.
Neither argued nor tried to pull away.
He had always indulged me.
17
When I woke, my head rested on his chest.
My legs tangled with his.
We were practically knotted together.
I had squeezed him to the edge of the bed.
Dark circles marked his eyes.
“Sorry. I took up almost your whole bed.”
Guilt pricked me.
“That’s fine,” he said. “But when are you going to stop groping in your sleep?”
Embarrassed, I buried myself beneath the blanket like an ostrich.
He pulled me straight out.
“Why hide? Not planning to take responsibility?”
His smile was gentle as a spring breeze.
His arms held me as firmly as a cage.
I broke into a cold sweat and tried to change the subject.
“I dreamed about the old days… You were shorter than me in middle school.”
“Yes. I remember.”
He tightened his embrace before I could escape.
“You were always putting an arm over my shoulders.”
“I was deeply wounded.”
His gaze fell to my lips.
“So I need a little compensation.”
Outside, magpies chattered, as though answering the rush of my heartbeat.
…
My lips swelled again.
Like a flower blooming on my face.
The gardener licked his lips, eyes curved with laughter.
Everything collapsed.
Spun.
Dissolved.
At that moment, nothing mattered except kissing the Zhou Yewang in front of me.
I held his hand tightly.
Laced our fingers together.
In my daze, we seemed to be stumbling down a sunlit road.
Love was coming toward us.
And looking into each other’s eyes, we knew.
Flowers would keep blooming along that road.
The sunlight would only grow brighter.
Our happiness would have no ending.
1
The world was a gloomy dream.
I was a pair of eyes suspended inside it.
Watching coldly.
Everyone’s outline was blurred.
Gray eyes.
Indistinct faces.
Because of my parents’ work, I moved with them from city to city.
A migratory bird without rest.
A shadow passing over the earth.
“We’re sorry.”
They stroked my head.
“Always moving. You never have time to make friends.”
Perhaps their expressions were guilty.
“It’s all right,” I always answered sincerely.
I had no attachments.
Nothing to miss when I left.
No one ever stood behind me in tears, hoping I would turn back, like a slow-motion scene in a film.
No one.
2
The day I transferred was not the first time I saw Cheng Can.
A rainy day.
A convenience store.
A boy holding an umbrella over a stray cat.
An odd little scene.
Normally, I would have walked past.
Then he looked up.
It is no exaggeration to say my world changed in an instant.
Before then, I could see no one clearly.
Not even myself.
Faces were meaningless lines on scrap paper.
Nothing that would stay in my memory.
But he was a kaleidoscope exploding in that colorless world.
Throwing bright fragments straight into my eyes.
Everything around him filled with color.
Forcefully.
Leaving no room to refuse.
“Cheng Can!”
“Coming!”
He answered his friend and ran through the rain.
Passed me without noticing.
I stood motionless.
The ground seemed to turn beneath my feet.
When I came to my senses, I took his umbrella.
Left mine for the cat.
3
Transferring to his school was no coincidence.
I still had a photograph on my phone.
Him running through the rain.
The school’s name clear behind him.
I truly wanted to see him again.
I never expected to share his desk.
“You’re so boring.”
That was what he said, frowning at the people bothering me.
Even angry, he was vivid.
4
We gradually grew close.
Whenever someone came to speak to me, he leaned over and whispered their name.
He needn’t have.
I could recognize people by voice and gait.
But when he reminded me, he came very near.
With the slightest glance, I could see his eyes.
Bright as stars in daylight.
Why was he so good to me?
I did not understand.
But if that was a privilege he gave me, I would not refuse.
5
Cheng Can was forgetful.
After a few visits to my home, his belongings began filling the empty places in my room.
He gave me all sorts of strange things too.
By the time I noticed, I was surrounded by his gifts.
He looked very pleased.
Then carried on like a little squirrel storing things away.
6
He liked to share.
I was his faithful audience.
So the songs I loved were ones he had recommended.
The films I loved were ones he had dragged me to see.
I became a faint mosaic assembled from all the things he loved.
“Wangwang. Try this.”
Still playing his game, he put food in my mouth.
His soft finger touched my lips.
“I like it.”
Looking at his back, I whispered.
What it tasted like, I couldn’t have said.
All night, I remembered only his finger.
7
I went to the gym to burn off excess energy.
It only seemed to make him like touching me more.
Every time, I came undone.
But I could not refuse.
Even if there was a trap ahead.
8
Living together was unexpected.
When he learned we had been admitted to the same university, he hugged my waist and wheedled.
“Wangwang, live with me? You’re the best. Mom doesn’t trust me to rent a place alone.”
“…All right.”
I struggled not to smile.
Perhaps one day I would tell him about the umbrella hidden in my cupboard.
About how he had changed my world.
I believed that day was not far away.
The End