Chapter 9: Want a Hug
A strange autumn rain fell in the evening. One moment it was pounding the earth like hail in a fit of madness, and the next, it stopped abruptly, decisive as a warrior severing his own wrist.
Zhang Chulan’s eyelids were heavy and fighting to close, yet his head felt like it was filled with a thousand little men tugging at his nerves, denying him any peace.
He couldn’t sleep at all.
He forcibly suppressed the urge to toss and turn, feeling as though ten thousand fleas were dancing on his body.
Only after hearing the even rhythm of Chi Wu’s breathing did he let out a long, silent exhale. He turned over quietly, and like a thief, fished his phone out from under the pillow, switched it to night mode, and began looking up travel guides behind Chi Wu’s back.
“Stop looking. Go to sleep.”
“Eh.” Zhang Chulan’s body stiffened, and he hurriedly hid the phone.
“I dimmed it all the way down… did I still wake you?”
Chi Wu was the most fastidious sleeper; he couldn’t tolerate noise, and light was absolutely forbidden.
As far as Zhang Chulan knew, in the entire boys’ dormitory, only Chi Wu had a bed curtain that resembled a mosquito net—a fully enclosed one that blocked out all light once zipped shut.
“You tossed and turned.”
“Ah…” Zhang Chulan realized immediately; his movements had been too loud.
He turned back around, resting his head against Chi Wu’s back and naturally draping his arm over Chi Wu’s waist.
“Sleep, sleep.”
The next day at 7:40 AM, everyone was woken up as usual by Wang Yuechu’s alarm.
Zhang Chulan shivered the moment he got out of bed. A glance at his phone confirmed the temperature had dropped significantly.
He quickly and familiarly grabbed a hoodie and a pair of casual trousers from Chi Wu’s closet, shivering as he spoke.
“Wubao, wear this set. It dropped more than ten degrees today.”
Wang Yuechu, standing to the side, was already used to the “old married couple” dynamic between these two. He turned around, pulling on his jacket while complaining.
“It’s already autumn, yet it was like summer just yesterday. The weather is getting more and more fickle.”
When they walked to the outer room, they realized it was even colder outside. The uneven potholes on the ground had filled with water, forcing them to tiptoe carefully.
“Freezing!” Zhang Chulan pressed closer to Chi Wu, his arm skillfully wrapping around the other’s waist.
Even though they stuck close together, two tall guys over 1.8 meters wearing shoes, huddled under a standard-sized umbrella, meant their shoulders still got a bit wet.
Arriving at the classroom, Zhang Chulan bounced over to turn on the heater. Turning on the AC in autumn seemed a bit out of place, but his face was thick enough to be a city wall. Aside from a few sharp-tongued complaints, those who had dressed too lightly looked at him with gratitude.
“Wubao, take off your jacket. It should be dry by the time class ends.”
Chi Wu gave a hum of acknowledgement.
“Lan-ge, you’re definitely going to be a pa er duo (henpecked husband) in the future,” Flower Arm, sitting nearby, couldn’t resist teasing as he sat down. “This is exactly how one serves an ancestor.”
“Shoo, shoo, shoo…” Zhang Chulan spat. “You’re just jealous, envious, and hateful.”
Flower Arm pursed his lips, thinking, What do I have to be envious of? But seeing Chi Wu’s appearance, he swallowed his words. If it were Chi Wu…
Tsk tsk.
Thinking about it, it actually was kind of thrilling.
Zhang Chulan’s attentiveness didn’t last the whole day because, in the afternoon, the leading teacher sent Chi Wu the itinerary for a competition.
Because it was a national competition, it was decided that they would be away for a week.
Zhang Chulan was still riding the high of planning a trip with Chi Wu, brainstorming travel routes to discuss with him.
And now, the other party involved was about to fly away.
He couldn’t control his questioning tone: “You’re only telling me now?”
“Is there a problem? I told you about it,” Chi Wu recalled greeting Zhang Chulan about it earlier, though he hadn’t mentioned it was a national competition.
But he participated in all sorts of competitions and had never reported in such detail before.
Zhang Chulan felt a lump in his throat. Chi Wu had said it.
But he had assumed it was just a campus competition where he could still see Chi Wu at night, squeeze in chats whenever possible, or even run to the venue if he really missed him.
Zhang Chulan couldn’t suppress the feeling of being deceived, even though Chi Wu hadn’t lied to him; it was just his own presumptuous fantasies falling through.
“No problem. Stay safe.” Zhang Chulan ended the conversation with that sentence.
He started a unilateral cold war—didn’t go to see him off, didn’t reply to messages, didn’t answer calls.
Chi Wu seemed to realize something was wrong and eventually stopped contacting him.
On the sixth day after Chi Wu left, Wang Yuechu finally sensed something was off and looked at Zhang Chulan as if watching a xi yang jing (peep show).
“Lan-ge, are you having a lover’s spat with Wu-ge?”
“Do I dare have a spat with him?”
“That’s true…” Wang Yuechu rubbed his chin, thinking, then spoke with great hesitation.
“But Wu-ge doesn’t look like the type to throw a tantrum either.”
Zhang Chulan didn’t reply. He stared at his phone for a while, then angrily went to scroll through videos and Moments, only to return to his chat with Chi Wu a moment later.
It was still Chi Wu’s lonely, unanswered message: “I’m on the plane.”
He typed out words on the keyboard, deleted them a moment later, then looked at the bright red missed call notifications. He wanted to tap them but stiffened his neck, refusing to budge. He shoved the phone under his pillow.
“So annoying.”
Zhang Chulan didn’t consider himself an indecisive person. In fact, he could adjust his emotions quickly and well—at least on the surface, no one could tell.
But every time his composure broke and Wang Yuechu guessed something, it was because of Chi Wu.
This made Zhang Chulan angry for no reason.
That heartless guy didn’t even know to offer him an out one more time.
Although he had already come to terms with it deep down, the lingering anger was because he realized that nine times out of ten, he was the one initiating their chats.
“Ei…”
Wang Yuechu clicked his tongue.
“Lan-ge, stop looking like a resentful husband. Check the group chat. The bro across the hall has his birthday today. He sent a message inviting us out for a big meal. The address is already up.”
“Oh…” Zhang Chulan fished out his phone again. “Alright then.”
“There are girls,” Wang Yuechu chuckled, “Heh heh. Aiyaya, feast for the eyes tonight.”
“Can you not make such wretched exclamations?”
“Lan-ge, what’s wrong with you? Usually, you’re the one shouting the loudest at times like this.” Wang Yuechu looked as if he had been slandered.
“We’re two peas in a pod; let’s not look down on each other.”
Roommate Tian Jiahui, who rarely spoke, suddenly chimed in from the side.
“Hasn’t Lan-ge already turned over a new leaf?”
Wang Yuechu suddenly realized: “That is true.”
Zhang Chulan couldn’t be bothered to argue with them. He clicked on Chi Wu’s Moments.
One blessing a year.
And it was always Zhang Chulan forcing the other to post it on his birthday. There was nothing to see.
He twisted around on the bed like a maggot, and finally, closed his eyes and turned on the CET-4 and 6 listening audio as a lullaby.
He drifted in and out of a daze, seemingly sleeping but also not, until he was woken up by Wang Yuechu’s excited shouting.
Waking up, he found the listening audio had long finished playing, and his phone battery was mostly drained.
He clicked into WeChat again. His groggy brain sent a “Want a hug” sticker to Chi Wu.
He didn’t know what Chi Wu was doing, but a “Hug” sticker came back instantly.
The irritation of being woken up vanished. Zhang Chulan’s foggy nerves instantly became active, almost dancing with joy.
He threw another message back.
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