MM | Chapter 49

Subtle

This time of year, the sky still brightens early. Just past 5 a.m., the clear morning light gradually creeps in from the balcony, illuminating the window glass and metal railings, casting reflections on Sheng Wang’s face.

The morning temperature is low, with a hint of autumn chill. He never sleeps soundly, with the blanket only half covering him, arms and legs exposed. After a restless night, he finally feels the cold.

He turns over, pulling his limbs into the blanket, wrapping himself up to his chin like a cat nestled in its spot.

Jiang Tian uses the same shower gel as him—sea salt mixed with wood fragrance, a light and refreshing scent. Yet, on their respective beds, it carries different undertones, familiar yet unique.

Surrounded by this scent, Sheng Wang squints in the reflected light from the railings, finally feeling a bit drowsy. But just as he’s about to drift off, the aching in his ankle wakes him.

Annoyed, he wraps himself tighter in the blanket, sulking for a while before reluctantly sitting up. His ankle throbs painfully. He lifts the blanket to find it swollen again.

Auntie Sun’s theory of “eat what you need” seems to have some truth. His ankle really does look like a pig’s trotter now.

Suddenly, there’s a noise from the upper bunk. Sheng Wang covers his “pig trotter” and turns to see Jiang Tian climbing down.

The other two in the dorm are still snoring. Sheng Wang whispers, “Did I wake you by turning over?”

“No,” Jiang Tian replies. “I just woke up.”

He doesn’t look groggy, as if he’s been awake for a while.

“Awake this early?” Sheng Wang asks in surprise.

Jiang Tian moves his lips slightly. “Biological clock.”

Sheng Wang grabs his phone. It’s 5:20.

Biological clock, my foot.

The boarding students at the Affiliated High School don’t have morning classes. The dorms are less than a five-minute walk to the classrooms, with the cafeteria in between. He Jin once said that if they want to sleep in, they can bring food to the classroom, just don’t be too blatant about it. The biggest perk of boarding is being able to sleep a bit earlier and wake up a bit later.

It’s not like they’ve just moved in. Any “biological clock” should have adjusted by now.

Sheng Wang shoves the screen in front of Jiang Tian, exposing his lie. Jiang Tian glances at it and simply takes his phone away.

“Resorting to anger?” Sheng Wang blurts out, then lowers his voice. “Where are you taking my phone?”

Jiang Tian slips the phone into his pocket and heads to the sink. Moments later, he returns with a minty coolness.

“Hey, do me a favor,” Sheng Wang says.

“Sure.”

“The ointment is on the cabinet. Could you grab it for me? I make too much noise walking right now,” Sheng Wang whispers.

Jiang Tian picks up a cotton swab, unscrewing the ointment cap as he walks back.

“Let me see,” he says, standing by the bed, signaling Sheng Wang to uncover his foot.

Sheng Wang hesitates. After all, the “pig trotter” isn’t a pretty sight. For some reason, he doesn’t want to show his less-than-handsome side to Jiang Tian, even though he’s embarrassed himself countless times before.

Jiang Tian scrapes some ointment onto the swab and, seeing Sheng Wang’s reluctance, gives him a questioning look.

Reluctantly, Sheng Wang extends his foot.

“Why is it so swollen?” Jiang Tian frowns.

“I don’t know,” Sheng Wang laughs awkwardly. “Doesn’t it look awful?”

He reaches for the swab, but Jiang Tian moves it away. Then Jiang Tian bends down, gently pressing Sheng Wang’s foot while applying the ointment with the swab.

Having someone else apply the ointment feels completely different. The ointment is extremely cool, and Sheng Wang wasn’t prepared for it. The sudden chill on his skin makes his foot tense up.

“Hey, you—”

“Does it hurt?” Jiang Tian stops immediately, thinking the ointment might be too strong.

“No, it’s not pain.” Sheng Wang doesn’t know how to explain. The ointment works quickly, turning from cool to warm, like a towel soothing the throbbing pain. He moves his ankle, feeling relieved. “Never mind, just apply it. You don’t have to be too gentle.”

The ointment is brown, and Jiang Tian applies two layers before straightening up. Sheng Wang leans on the bed, looking at it, and jokes, “It looked like a bun before, now it looks like a fried bun.”

Jiang Tian pauses while screwing the cap back on, then says, “Stay in the dorm today. Don’t go to class.”

“Why?” Sheng Wang sits up.

“You walked on it yesterday, and now it’s this swollen. You want to go again today?” Jiang Tian throws the swab into the trash. “Are you planning to lose your foot?”

Sheng Wang can’t argue with that logic, so he just glares at Jiang Tian. But Jiang Tian doesn’t give him a chance to retort, reaching up to grab something from the upper bunk.

Jiang Tian is wearing light gray cotton sweatpants in the dorm. When he raises his arm, a white drawstring is visible at his waist, and there’s a sharp angle protruding from his right pocket—where he put the phone.

Sheng Wang squints and suddenly makes a move, reaching into that pocket.

He regrets it immediately.

Jiang Tian didn’t expect this, instinctively bending down. He grips Sheng Wang’s hand through the pocket. In the struggle, they both lose balance—one leaning against the bedpost, the other almost falling.

But they’re too close, close enough to hear each other’s breathing.

“Trying to sneak attack?” Jiang Tian looks up.

Sheng Wang presses his lips together, his hair slightly tousled. His breathing is a bit rushed. After a beat, he says, “Why don’t you mention who took the phone first?”

The position is awkward, and he wants to pull his hand back. After a couple of tugs, he realizes the pocket is pressed against Jiang Tian’s leg.

Both of them pause, a subtle atmosphere suddenly spreading in the cramped space.

And then there’s the dorm’s oblivious member—

Shi Yu, who drank a lot of water last night to ease his nerves, now faces the consequences. Before the alarm even rings, his bladder wakes him. Rubbing his eyes, he sees two figures tangled at the bedhead.

He opens his mouth, sleepily saying, “Oh my god…”

Sheng Wang snaps back to reality at the sound.

Jiang Tian glances away, releases the pocket, and stands up straight. Sheng Wang quickly withdraws his hand, though his wrist isn’t twisted at all, he still shakes it instinctively. It feels like if he doesn’t do something, that subtle atmosphere won’t dissipate.

“What are you two doing?” Shi Yu, barefoot, searches for his slippers, still half-asleep.

“Lost my balance,” Jiang Tian says.

“Getting my phone,” Sheng Wang adds.

Two unrelated and illogical statements, yet Shi Yu nods. Yawning, he shuffles to the bathroom, muttering, “Thought something happened, scared me.”

Jiang Tian retrieves the phone and hands it to Sheng Wang, then goes to the wardrobe to find clothes for going out. Sheng Wang scratches his head, slides down the bed, and curls back under the covers.

After that, silence prevails.

The other three leave around 6:45, and at about 6:50, Sheng Wang receives a call from their homeroom teacher, He Jin.

On the phone, Old He elaborates on the theme of “a hundred days to heal bones and tendons,” scolding him a bit, and finally orders him to stay in the dorm and not go anywhere.

He responds with a series of “okay, okay, okay,” coaxing Old He into hanging up. Then Qiu Wenbin rushes back in.

“I forgot my papers.” He places three lunch boxes on the table and turns to rummage through the upper bunk for his sheets. “Just as well, the master got you breakfast, so I brought it back.”

“So much? Feeding a pig?” Sheng Wang hops over on one foot to the table, checking the boxes. “Why didn’t he come back himself?”

“Ran into your math teacher, Teacher Wu, right out of the cafeteria and got called away,” Qiu Wenbin explains.

“Oh.”

Sheng Wang opens the last box to find a neat row of fried buns, rolling his eyes.

Even when he’s not around, he can still annoy him from afar.

Thanks to those buns, Sheng Wang decides to have a one-sided cold war all morning. Usually, he’d tease Jiang Tian whenever he could, but today he doesn’t even open WeChat, burying himself in three sheets of practice questions to vent.

When he finishes the last question, stretching and loosening his neck, he realizes it’s already past noon. Outside the balcony, there’s a sudden uproar, like water about to boil.

Sheng Wang hops over to the wall and sees a flood of heads rushing toward the cafeteria, a spectacular sight from this angle.

Gao Tianyang, tall and imposing, stands out in the leading crowd.

Perhaps there’s some brotherly intuition, as he suddenly looks up and spots Sheng Wang on the balcony. He waves and shouts, “Sheng-ge—”

Sheng Wang smiles, wanting to crouch down in embarrassment. That loud voice draws countless eyes his way, utterly mortifying.

He gestures toward the cafeteria, signaling Gao Tianyang to shut up and get moving. But the fool misinterprets, thinking Sheng Wang is hungry. He immediately shouts again, “Wait there, Tian-ge is getting lunch for you—”

“…”

Great, now twice as many people are looking up.

Sheng Wang turns and leaves, shutting the balcony door behind him.

Since the second day of boarding, the whole school has heard that the famous Jiang Tian and the overachieving transfer student Sheng Wang are brothers. But hearing is one thing; there’s no concrete evidence. Jiang Tian is notoriously aloof, and those curious don’t dare be too blatant, only whispering in small groups. Occasionally, they catch glimpses of clues in daily interactions.

Gao Tianyang’s two sentences practically throw him into the sea of gossip. As Sheng Wang retreats, he’s surrounded by a barrage of questions—

“Yang-ge! Are they really brothers?”

“I remember hearing they didn’t get along at first?”

“Yeah, I heard that too.”

“Your Class A is amazing. With Sheng Wang’s rapid rise, he’ll definitely be a big shot. Two like that in one family, my god, that’s awesome.”

“Not necessarily. The higher you go, the harder it is to move up. You think someone like Tian-ge can be mass-produced?”

“Even if he doesn’t make the top five, top ten is impressive.”

“You can’t predict the future. I was top in the joint exams in middle school, and now I’m not even in the top 20.”

…

Gao Tianyang’s head is about to explode, seriously reflecting on his loudmouth tendencies for the first time. He’s squeezed by the crowd, unable to move, watching the cafeteria fill up, and asks in despair, “Aren’t you guys eating? Is gossip going to sustain you? Brothers, yes, they’re close, ask again and I’ll die.”

While his good brother struggles downstairs, Sheng Wang hears the dorm door key turn.

Jiang Tian walks in with a bag of food containers, closing the door behind him.

“The cafeteria just opened, right?” Sheng Wang didn’t expect him back so soon. “Old Gao hasn’t even made it there yet, and you’re already back?”

It’s not that Jiang Tian runs slower than Gao Tianyang, but Jiang Tian never rushes to lunch.

“It’s not from the cafeteria.” Jiang Tian takes out the containers, and the first dish is something the cafeteria wouldn’t have.

Old Man Ding’s cooking is exceptional, with a few signature dishes that no one can replicate. Among them is this minced meat tofu. Sheng Wang had mentioned it to Auntie Sun, and both she and Jiang Ou tried to make it, but the tofu was either overcooked or the meat not finely minced, and the flavor was different.

“You went to Wutongwai?” Sheng Wang asks.

Jiang Tian replies, “The old man made it early and had Uncle Mute bring it over.”

His words skip over countless details. First, someone had to inform Old Man Ding that Sheng Wang had sprained his foot, then tell him Sheng Wang was back at school, and then that his foot was swollen again and he couldn’t go up and down stairs. Lastly, someone had to know what he most wanted to eat.

Sheng Wang sits respectfully at the table. As he opens the container and the aroma wafts out, he ends the morning’s cold war, deciding to reconcile with Jiang Tian and shake hands to ease the awkwardness.

He takes a spoonful of tofu, thinking Sheng Mingyang and Jiang Ou’s worries are unnecessary—

See, he can have meals delivered to him in the dorm, living even better than at home.

Sheng Wang hasn’t been holed up in the dorm for long when National Day arrives. The Affiliated High School doesn’t adjust the schedule, so when they say three days off, it’s just three days, but that’s enough to delight the students.

Only then does Sheng Wang realize how awkward his timing was to return to school. If he had waited a few more days, Jiang Tian would have gone home. Now it seems like he was in such a hurry before.

Setting aside pride, would he really limp home with Jiang Tian today and then limp back three days later? That would be like having a vendetta against his foot.

So, the two of them discuss and decide to stay in the dorm for the three-day holiday.