Part 2
With his left arm around Tang Yue’s shoulder and his right hand held by Tang Yue, Jiang Shulu watched as Tang Yue, seemingly finding it fun, swung his hand and laughed at their shadows on the ground.
Tang Yue: “Nobody liked me before.”
This alley wasn’t very long. With most people gone, it felt particularly empty. If he were alone, Tang Yue wouldn’t have come here at all.
He always liked lively places, yet he drifted on the periphery, easily arousing pity.
“Impossible,” Jiang Shulu said.
He instinctively looked down. Tang Yue, nestled in his arm, pinched Jiang Shulu’s thumb. In the dim light, the young man’s voice sounded a bit dejected. “Because where I’m from is a bit different from here.”
Tang Yue told Jiang Shulu about Planet 9787, about his parents’ work, and about the rigid class system that was hard to cross.
About his boring youth.
And the expensive interstellar spaceship tickets, and his dream of going to another planet to see a concert.
They walked very slowly, so slowly that Tang Yue could hear the scattered residents cooking upstairs in the narrow alley.
A stray cat passed by leisurely. Jiang Shulu listened to a world completely different from the one he had imagined that morning.
He thought: No wonder.
No wonder Tang Yue was so different.
But the other’s strangeness made the existence of this world’s Tang Yue seem reasonable. To some extent, the fates of these two people were somewhat similar.
Both drifted away from the crowd, friendless.
It was just that the Tang Yue he got, because he was in a world without stages, lost any possibility of shining.
Tang Yue spoke slowly, occasionally stopping to look at the dim buildings, then burying his face in Jiang Shulu’s chest to take a deep sniff.
Jiang Shulu rubbed his hair. Before he could offer much comfort, Tang Yue said, “I feel so sorry for the Tang Yue of this world. I’m afraid he won’t adapt over there.”
“His survival skills are much better than yours. Didn’t you read his resume?”
Thinking of how the other Tang Yue had the same naturally good voice, but while it was a gift for this Tang Yue, it was a curse for that Tang Yue (tone-deafness).
At the beginning, the manager had worried about how to cure his tone-deafness. Later, the car accident and the “switch” turned out to be a good thing for Away.
Tang Yue: “I’m afraid he’ll get bullied.”
“He once cracked a drunk man’s head open for bullying a kid and got a reward for bravery.”
Tang Yue let out an “Ah” and whispered, “Then why wasn’t that exposed?”
Even the video of the junior high choir had been leaked.
Tang Yue still remembered the tremor in his soul when he heard it.
The other person didn’t seem exactly like him either.
How on earth was he selected as a trainee idol?
“Sister Lin suppressed it,” Jiang Shulu said. “She felt it was too different from you after the amnesia.”
To some extent, the excuse of amnesia was very useful; no one had ever suspected it.
Plus, Tang Yue’s eyes were pure. The manager had wanted to ask more questions many times but felt like she was interrogating a prisoner, so she eventually let it go.
It turned into telling the team to be nicer to Tang Yue.
Even during outside activities, the seniors were asked to look after the youngest brother of the group.
The next second, Tang Yue lifted his head from Jiang Shulu’s chest and asked with some surprise, “Aren’t you scared at all?”
“I’m an alien, you know.”
“I can even give birth. A normal person would probably drag me to a research institute or something.”
Jiang Shulu laughed out loud, cupping Tang Yue’s face and pressing his lips firmly against Tang Yue’s.
“But you are the person I love. Why should I be afraid?”
Jiang Shulu had always given off a strong sense of security; Tang Yue had felt it back when they were in the group.
It was just that back then, his own anxiety followed him like a shadow, making everything feel unstable.
“Didn’t Sister Yi tell you?” Jiang Shulu asked. “There are precedents for men having children.”
He paused. “Do you want everyone to know that Xiao Mie is our child?”
“I do, but I’m afraid Xiao Mie will be isolated by his classmates because of this.”
He didn’t want Tang Mian to experience the same gray adolescence he did.
Even though Tang Yue was happy now, thinking of the past still made him sad.
At this moment, the visitor from the stars had found fertile soil suitable for his growth alone, encompassing enough for Tang Yue to roll around freely.
Even the kiss surged into love, making him hold on tighter.
“You’re holding me too tight,” Jiang Shulu said. “I can’t breathe.”
Tang Yue leaned in. “Then I’ll give you some air.”
Jiang Shulu couldn’t help but laugh, resting his chin on Tang Yue’s shoulder. “You are so cute.”
“Really? But many people say ‘cute’ because they have nothing else to praise.”
He was occasionally quite literal.
“I have nothing else to praise.”
Tang Yue hummed twice and let go, seeming hurt, as if he wanted to leave.
He had just turned around when he was hugged from behind.
“Because you are too good,” Jiang Shulu said, “that I don’t know how to…”
Tang Yue asked impatiently, “How to what?”
“Love you more.”
His words came from the heart.
Even though they were in a dim alleyway, the scattered lights seemed like the solitary lamps on Jiang Shulu’s life path before.
On the verge of closing down, just like this alley facing demolition.
But Jiang Shulu unexpectedly obtained the brightest star.
Because it was too precious, he felt panic, afraid he wouldn’t cherish it enough.
Tang Yue couldn’t hold back his joy. He let out an “Oh,” dragging the sound out long.
“So there are things Shulu-ge doesn’t know how to do.”
“I thought you knew everything.”
“It seems our Captain isn’t omnipotent either.”
“I’m not a genius like you,” Jiang Shulu said.
“If Second Brother heard you say that, he’d definitely scold you.”
“Let him.”
The next second, he pointed to the second floor of a small door ahead and said to Tang Yue, “That’s where I used to live.”
The building next door was still inhabited, so a low-wattage light was on, enough for Tang Yue to see the narrow stairs illuminated through the open door.
The conditions here were very poor. And this was more than twenty years later; one could imagine that twenty years ago, it might have been even worse.
Although no one liked Tang Yue from Planet 9787, his parents had inherited the landfill job.
Even though the work meals were simulated flavors, they had their own independent living space.
Not this kind of obviously dilapidated dwelling. Just now, a child passed by on the second floor carrying a basin to dump water at the end of the corridor.
The man standing beside him was tall, handsome, and extraordinarily noble. He looked like he had absolutely nothing to do with such an environment.
But Zhou Chou had grown up right here.
Jiang Shulu was about to lead Tang Yue up, but he had only taken half a step when the corner of his clothes was tugged.
The beautiful young man lowered his head, his voice sobbing as he called out Jiang Shulu’s childhood name.
Jiang Kaicheng and Zhu Qiong knew this name, but they would never call it.
It represented Jiang Shulu’s past that should remain unknown, and the woman who died deep in the passage of time.
But every time Tang Yue called it, ripples formed in Jiang Shulu’s heart.
“What’s wrong?” Jiang Shulu asked.
Tang Yue looked up and suddenly threw his arms around his neck, hugging him as if trying to strangle him.
“I… I-I-I don’t know what to say, I just…”
He was nearly hyperventilating.
Recommended Reads
