MM | Chapter 57

[Title]

The bathroom door lock clicked, and soon the sound of clothes rustling and water flowing could be heard.

Jiang Tian looked at the narrow, tea-colored door. Light steam seeped out from the louvered vent below, leaving a damp mark on the floor in front of the door.

His long eyes blinked slightly, and his gaze shifted from the door as he asked Shi Yu, “What’s up with him?”

“What’s up with who?” Shi Yu feigned ignorance. It was rare for Jiang Tian to initiate a conversation, and Shi Yu was both flattered and genuinely surprised, feeling guilty as if caught doing something bad.

Jiang Tian walked in and placed his backpack on the table. Sheng Wang’s bag was right next to it, the zipper untouched, nothing taken out, as if it hadn’t been moved since he brought it back.

He recalled the pitch-black state of the dorm when he entered and looked at Shi Yu with curiosity, “What were you guys doing?”

Shi Yu was just about to stash his laptop under his pillow, and his hand shook at the question, nearly dropping it.

He gave Jiang Tian a nervous laugh and avoided the topic, “Actually, before you came back, we were watching a horror movie. I don’t watch much of that stuff, and Sheng Wang happened to come back, so I asked him to watch with me for courage.”

“Asked him for courage.” Jiang Tian glanced again at the closed narrow door, unable to resist saying, “And you both ended up shaking?”

“Of course not.” Shi Yu used the horror movie to cover up the “action movie,” speaking naturally and at length, “Sheng Wang is really brave. I was almost scared to wet myself, but he didn’t even blink, helping me with the music and skipping scenes. He even intended to shower midway.”

Jiang Tian was momentarily stunned, his expression finally showing a hint of surprise. He listened to Shi Yu’s chatter for a while and finally asked for confirmation, “You said Sheng Wang is brave?”

“Yeah.” Shi Yu nodded, “He said he’s seen almost all the thrillers and horror movies out there. He used to watch them alone at home as a kid to build courage, and now he’s numb to them.”

He rambled on, suddenly realizing that the person in front of him was Sheng Wang’s brother. Surely, they didn’t need an outsider like him to explain. So Shi Yu stopped himself and said, “Oh right, you must already know all this, Tian-ge.”

However, Jiang Tian didn’t know. Sheng Wang had never mentioned it.

He suddenly recalled that night when the dorm supervisor and security were discussing the intruder, their voices gradually fading into silence.

He had asked Sheng Wang if he was afraid, and Sheng Wang, with sleepy eyes, had made room and patted the bed.

Something lightly scratched at Jiang Tian’s heart.

Shi Yu was busy packing up his laptop, drawing the bed curtains, and pulling out his phone, bustling around. Jiang Tian stood by the table for a while, suddenly feeling a bit thirsty, so he took out a bottle of water from his backpack.

*

Sheng Wang took a long shower, and when he came out, even his eyes seemed to have a layer of clear water. He lowered his eyes, drying his hair with a towel, and almost bumped into Jiang Tian by the wardrobe.

The two paused for a moment at the close distance, then each stepped aside. Sheng Wang blinked away the water on his lashes and said while drying his hair, “What are you doing standing here? You scared me.”

If it had been Gao Tianyang or someone else, Jiang Tian might have said, “Aren’t you brave? You still get scared?”

But he didn’t mention it. He just took some folded clothes and a towel from the wardrobe and said, “I’m going to shower.”

“Oh.” Sheng Wang stepped aside to let him pass.

The bathroom was still filled with warm steam, and the scent of body wash lingered, like traces left by the previous person. Boys weren’t particular about such things, but Sheng Wang inexplicably said, “Maybe wait a bit? It’s pretty hot in there.”

Jiang Tian gave him a questioning look.

With a towel on his head, Sheng Wang’s damp hair fell messily over his eyes. He waved his hand, “Never mind, go ahead.”

Jiang Tian entered the bathroom, and Shi Yu finally settled down after some fuss, surprisingly picking up a book to read, though it was unclear if he was actually absorbing anything.

Sheng Wang pulled out a chair and sat at the table, hunched over, drying his hair. After a moment, he looked up to see Shi Yu had put down the book and was happily chatting on his phone, a smile he couldn’t suppress, oblivious to anyone watching.

Watching Shi Yu, Sheng Wang suddenly remembered when Big Mouth Xu confiscated his phone outside the track and field, asking if he was in a relationship. At the time, he was puzzled by the strange assumption. Now… he probably understood.

“Who are you chatting with, smiling like that?” Sheng Wang asked casually.

“Huh?” Shi Yu glanced up, his silly grin slightly restrained, “Who else, He Shu.”

Of course.

Sheng Wang paused in drying his hair, then took the towel off and held it in his hand.

Shi Yu didn’t notice anything unusual.

At this age, relationships were partly secretive, partly boastful. After replying to He Shu’s messages, Shi Yu aimlessly scrolled through their chat history, unable to resist sharing with Sheng Wang, “You know, even the fiercest girls are pretty cute when they’re in a relationship.”

Sheng Wang nodded absentmindedly, uninterested in whether the person Shi Yu mentioned was cute.

Shi Yu didn’t care if Sheng Wang was listening or not, as long as he nodded. He went on about He Shu, how she had dimples when she smiled, how the sun made her hair look great, how she was competitive but cute if not stubborn, and especially praised her fair skin, good looks, and long legs.

Sheng Wang, with his eyes downcast, was a bit distracted. He let the earlier comments go in one ear and out the other, but the last part he heard clearly.

As Shi Yu praised, Sheng Wang’s mind conjured an image of Jiang Tian—

After playing basketball, Jiang Tian liked to push his damp hair back and throw his jacket over his shoulder. His fingers were long, his legs were long, and his skin was pale and cold.

Sheng Wang blinked, pushing these thoughts away. Then, out of nowhere, he asked Shi Yu, “How do you know you like her?”

“Huh?” Shi Yu was taken aback.

“There are so many girls with fair skin, good looks, and long legs. How do you know the one you like is He Shu?” Sheng Wang asked.

Shi Yu had never been asked this way and was momentarily stunned.

He actually thought about it seriously and tried to answer, “I don’t really notice other girls. At the sports meet, I won first in sprints and triple jump. Our class came to give me water and towels, and among all the girls, I only saw her. When I took the water from her, I accidentally touched her and got really nervous, my hand was sweaty. And I also, I really wanted to kiss—”

“—Forget it, forget it, that’s all nonsense.” His face turned as red as a monkey’s butt, as if he hadn’t just pulled out a risqué video earlier, “You don’t need to think about these things. You just know who you like.”

Sheng Wang rested his elbows on his knees, loosely holding the towel between his fingers. After a moment of silence, he simply said “oh” and didn’t speak again.

He went to the balcony to wash the towel and hang it up, then climbed to the top bunk.

“Sleeping so early?” Shi Yu was still eager to chat, but his audience had already left.

“Exam tomorrow morning, man.” Sheng Wang replied casually, then turned toward the wall, wrapping himself in the blanket.

After a while, the bathroom door opened, and Jiang Tian came out after his shower.

Sheng Wang heard footsteps stop by the bed, and Jiang Tian asked softly, “Asleep?”

Shi Yu answered from the opposite side, “Probably asleep. Said he wanted to sleep early for the exam tomorrow.”

Jiang Tian stood for a moment, then the bed moved slightly as he sat on the edge. After a while, Qiu Wenbin returned from studying, and they exchanged a few words in low voices before the lights-out signal sounded.

By early November, autumn was ending, and the night was chilly, seeping through the window cracks.

In the middle of the night, distant thunder rumbled, and rain fell without warning. Raindrops slanted onto the balcony, tapping against the window glass, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, a constant patter.

Sheng Wang finally turned over lightly, lying flat on his back.

The streetlights outside cast a faint glow on the rain-soaked glass, creating a blurry patch of light.

He stared at that light for a while, then reached for his phone by the pillow and turned on the screen—it was 3:14 AM. The Affiliated High School had arranged a bus to the Nan High exam site at 7 AM, leaving him less than four hours to rest, but he was wide awake.

He plugged in his earphones, intending to listen to some soothing music, but noticed a WeChat message he hadn’t seen—

Jiang Tian: Really asleep?

Sheng Wang was startled and looked down at the lower bunk, seeing Jiang Tian lying on his side, one hand habitually resting on his neck, his elbow almost covering most of his face, his features hidden in shadow.

Perhaps it was the shadows creating an illusion, but even asleep, he seemed to frown, as if not very happy.

Sheng Wang watched him for a while before turning back.

He lay on his back, scrolling through their chat history, finally noticing the time the message was sent—11:20 PM, during lights-out, when all sounds were masked by the signal, not waking those already asleep.

Staring at the time, Sheng Wang thought that might be the reason.

The person on the lower bunk seemed cold and hard but was more attentive than anyone. And he happened to be sensitive, always noticing these subtle details.

He must have been lonely for too long, and Jiang Tian was too close, which is why he felt this way.

He had no experience, so he could only find this reason.

Shi Yu was right; you don’t need to think about these things. You just know who you like.

He should have known long ago…

He liked Jiang Tian.

But that’s not possible, you’re my brother, Sheng Wang thought to himself.

He stared at his phone screen for a long time, finally entering Jiang Tian’s contact page and changing the name he’d used for a long time.

When he exited, the WeChat interface had updated. The cat named “Captain” was still at the top of the screen, lying quietly on the gray-white courtyard wall, looking down at him through the years.

The chat avatar hadn’t changed, but the remark name had, now simply “Ge.”