MM | Chapter 62

The Wooden Block

Sheng Wang suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable.

It was as if someone pinched the corner of his heart, making it ache and soften instantly. Facing Jiang Tian like this, he couldn’t say “no.” He suddenly found himself amusing, busy for so many days, only to be brought back to square one by his brother’s words. He wanted to say, “You’re something else,” but he couldn’t open his mouth.

For a long time, he just held the notebook tightly, not speaking, not looking up, not moving. Until that sour feeling seeped through his blood and wasn’t so uncomfortable anymore, he blinked rapidly.

“I can,” he said softly, his voice still hoarse. He cleared his throat, then lifted the notebook and said, “If I can’t get my grades back with this, what am I even doing?”

Jiang Tian didn’t say anything.

His eyes were very beautiful, with thin eyelids and slightly upturned corners. His gaze always seemed cold and aloof, as if he didn’t care about anyone. But when he looked straight at you, with his eyes slightly lowered, reflecting the dim light, you stood in his eyes.

Sheng Wang stood in his eyes for a long time before Jiang Tian nodded and said, “Good.” Then his sharpness slowly softened, as if he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

In those few seconds, Sheng Wang even felt a tacit understanding with his brother. This illusion gave him an impulse; he wanted to say, “Ge, can I hug you?” But just as he was about to speak, the lights-out bell rang.

He was startled and came back to his senses.

Outside the balcony, there was a faint scent of osmanthus. In late November, the flowers had long fallen, yet a trace of fragrance stubbornly lingered. Sheng Wang’s impulse slowly calmed in the lingering scent.

He grabbed the notebook and stood up, asking Jiang Tian, “Shall we go in?”

“Yeah, it’s getting colder.” Jiang Tian glanced outside the railing and opened the balcony door, gesturing for Sheng Wang to go first.

Having gripped the notebook too tightly, his fingers felt numb and sore when he relaxed. Sheng Wang flexed his joints as he walked into the dorm. As he crossed the low balcony threshold, someone lightly patted the back of his head.

He didn’t know if it was meant to comfort or something else.

Sheng Wang froze and turned around sharply, but Jiang Tian had already entered. He walked straight past the long desk, took out clothes and a towel from the wardrobe, and said, “I’m going to take a shower.”

Shi Yu, lounging on the bed, was texting, while Qiu Wenbin clipped a charging lamp to the bed rail, reminding, “Master, you better be quick. The patrol teacher will be here soon.”

“Got it,” Jiang Tian said as he entered the bathroom.

“Sheng-ge, why are you standing there?” Qiu Wenbin got off the bed to get a book, as Sheng Wang was blocking the balcony door, making the space feel cramped.

“Huh?” Sheng Wang scratched his hair, saying, “Oh, nothing, just thinking about something.”

Jiang Tian quickly finished his shower, and Sheng Wang grabbed his clothes and towel to take his turn. The bathroom was filled with steam, and as the hot water cascaded down, he suddenly understood. Or rather, when he told Jiang Tian, “I can get my grades back,” he had already understood.

He just liked someone; what was the big deal? People live for eighty or ninety years, and he was just at the beginning. The future was so long, far beyond sight. He just happened to like Jiang Tian during this time. He didn’t know how long it would last, and he didn’t plan to say it, knowing there couldn’t be any result.

The future was a straight line, and he was just veering off at this point, destined to return eventually. Was it serious?

Not at all.

The hot water finally ran out, turning cold on his skin. Sheng Wang slapped the faucet and grabbed a towel to dry his hair.

In the dissipating steam, he sneezed, thinking: Forget about cooling down, I’m going back to Class A.

At sixteen or seventeen, it’s all about living in the moment.

Others might skim through life, but who cares if he looks at his brother a bit more? It’s not like it would cost him anything. Besides, his brother was a block of wood; what was there to be afraid of?

*

A teenager’s thoughts are like June weather—when it rains heavily, it feels like the clouds will never clear. But once the rain stops, the sun shines brightly again.

These days, Sheng Wang was the sun himself.

As Sheng Wang’s roommate and new desk mate, Shi Yu felt it most directly.

Before, Sheng Wang seemed to ignore everyone, burying himself in questions, finishing one book after another. It made Shi Yu restless, so he picked up a few sets of questions to compare, only to find he couldn’t catch up no matter how fast he went.

Recently, Sheng Wang suddenly became lazy. Often, while the teacher meticulously explained questions, he would be playing with paper cutouts. The question banks he had finished were picked through, some pages cut out, the rest piled into the wastebooks.

He stopped doing questions and wasn’t particularly focused in class. More often, he would spin a pen while looking at a dark brown leather notebook, occasionally jotting down a few lines in a notebook, sometimes pulling out his phone to chat on WeChat.

Shi Yu glanced over once, but it was too quick to catch anything, only seeing the first two characters of a contact’s name: “Chang Bai.” He puzzled over it for a while, unable to recall anyone named Chang Bai around him.

It wasn’t until Wednesday’s evening self-study that he discovered who the mysterious “Chang Bai” was.

Evening self-study for boarders began after the day students finished their classes. Students from each class would carry their bags and books to the designated lecture hall. A teacher was assigned to answer questions, usually rotating among the grade’s teachers.

The lecture hall was large, and seats were free, not assigned by class. Sheng Wang, as usual, sat in his old spot in the last row, with Shi Yu and Qiu Wenbin in front of him for convenience after self-study.

As the preparatory bell rang, most had settled in, and the classroom gradually quieted down.

The supervising teacher scanned the room, estimating that everyone had arrived, and went to close the door. Just then, a boy with a backpack slung over his shoulder walked in. The teacher was surprised and instinctively asked, “Why are you here?”

The students looked up, followed by a buzz of whispers.

The newcomer was Jiang Tian, causing a stir because everyone knew Class A had the privilege of not needing to attend evening self-study in the lecture hall.

Amidst the murmurs, Sheng Wang looked up. Jiang Tian was talking to the supervising teacher, and during a pause, he glanced around the back of the classroom, pausing on Sheng Wang before turning back to speak softly to the teacher. Then he casually walked up two steps at a time, weaving through the rows of desks.

Everyone in the classroom craned their necks to watch him. Shi Yu, sitting closest, accidentally caught sight of Sheng Wang’s phone.

The phone lay flat on the desk, unguarded, as if he didn’t care who saw it. The screen displayed a WeChat chat box, with the contact’s name at the top. This time, Shi Yu finally saw the full name: Chang Bai Mountain Sacred Tree.

This Chang Bai Mountain Sacred Tree had sent a message half a minute ago, asking Sheng Wang: Which row do you usually sit in during self-study?

Sheng Wang replied: The last row.

Then Jiang Tian arrived, making it clear who the Sacred Tree was. Shi Yu thought he couldn’t understand the nicknames between brothers; what were these names?

Jiang Tian ignored the attention, sitting next to Sheng Wang, pulling out a thick dark blue book from his bag, and taking out a pen. Only then did he lift his eyes and ask, “What are you daydreaming about?”

Sheng Wang opened his mouth, puzzled, “Aren’t you supposed to stay on the top floor for self-study?”

Jiang Tian flipped open his book, “Hmm.”

“Then why did you come down?”

Jiang Tian didn’t lift his head, “Sitting there alone is stupid.”

“Oh.” Sheng Wang’s heart stirred, and he lowered his eyes to continue reading. After a moment, he suddenly chuckled.

Jiang Tian frowned at him, and Sheng Wang said, “I imagined it, and it is pretty stupid.”

“…”

Jiang Tian ignored him for the rest of the evening self-study.

*

On Friday, Yang Jing found them and handed them two forms, saying the training would start next week and they needed to fill out the forms and prepare two two-inch photos.

“Photos again?” Jiang Tian asked, “Didn’t we submit them before?”

Yang Jing, annoyed, said, “They were all stuck on the honor wall by Director Xu from the Political and Educational Office. Do you want me to peel them off?”

Sheng Wang was planning to take a quick photo at the copy shop at the entrance when Yang Jing told him, “Find a good one, at least smile. If you do well, your photo will go on the wall too. Don’t make it look like a wanted poster.”

“Okay,” Sheng Wang drawled in response.

There was a print shop next to Xi Le. On the way, Sheng Wang kept flipping through his phone’s photo album. He seemed to have activated “auto-follow,” always half a step behind Jiang Tian. When Jiang Tian turned, he turned; when Jiang Tian stopped, he stopped, never looking up.

Jiang Tian told him twice to “watch the road,” but it went in one ear and out the other. Finally, Jiang Tian silently led him towards a tree. Sheng Wang only realized when he bumped his forehead and looked up. Jiang Tian’s hand was in front of him, just a step away from the tree trunk.

“Are you really not watching the road?” Jiang Tian asked incredulously.

Sheng Wang was even more incredulous, “You actually led me into a tree?”

Jiang Tian was momentarily speechless, scanning the surroundings with a blank expression.

Sheng Wang followed his gaze, seeing only leaves. “What are you looking for?”

Jiang Tian said, “A straight branch.”

Sheng Wang didn’t get it and pointed to a cluster of branches above, “That one’s pretty straight. What do you need it for?”

Jiang Tian: “To break it off and make you a blind cane.”

Sheng Wang never expected his brother to be so sarcastic, with a setup and all. He was at a loss for words. He imagined himself holding one end of the blind cane, Jiang Tian holding the other, both wearing round sunglasses… Oh my.

“What are you laughing at?” Jiang Tian asked, annoyed.

Sheng Wang’s heart skipped, and he extended his left hand, saying, “Here, a human blind cane, dare to hold it?”

He saw Jiang Tian hesitate, then pulled his hand back, pretending to sneer, “You actually need to think about it, let’s go.”

With that, he lowered his head, playing with his phone as he strolled ahead.

Ever since he figured things out that day, he’d been in this state.

“Chang Bai Mountain Sacred Tree” symbolized the aloof wooden block. It was as if a mischievous little person lived inside him, taking advantage of Jiang Tian’s ignorance, teasing him now and then, like a cat in a meme, standing on the edge, reckless and unrestrained.

After all, it was all just a facade. Jiang Tian wasn’t even on the same line as him; he could never truly reach him.

However, this mindset lasted just over a week before it was shattered.

That day was Thursday, one day before leaving for training. Yang Jing had already urged them to pack. They were given two evening self-study leave slips, but daytime classes continued as usual.

Thursday afternoon’s last period was a competition coaching session for Class A, focusing on physics. Recently, He Jin had been teaching part of university physics. But that day, He Jin wasn’t feeling well and went to the hospital, so Zhao Xi substituted for the competition class.

Sheng Wang had promised several teachers he would attend the competition class. Even though the incident in the alley had long passed, he still felt a moment of awkwardness seeing Zhao Xi in the classroom.

He thought he hid his discomfort well, but after class, Zhao Xi returned to Class A after dropping off his lesson plan in the office and sat on the edge of the desk in front of Sheng Wang.

“Xi-ge,” Sheng Wang greeted.

“Waiting for Jiang Tian?” Zhao Xi glanced out the window. The students from Class A had left for dinner or showers, leaving only Sheng Wang and him. “Did Director Zhao from the management office drag him off again?”

Sheng Wang nodded, “We’re not attending evening self-study today, waiting for him to go eat at Wutongwai.”

“Oh.”

“Xi-ge, aren’t you going back?” Sheng Wang asked.

Zhao Xi smiled, “No rush, I wanted to chat with you.”

Sheng Wang hesitated, “About what?”

“About why you’ve been avoiding me and Linzi lately?” Zhao Xi said.

Sheng Wang was instantly embarrassed beyond words.

“Hey, what’s there to be embarrassed about?” Zhao Xi’s conversational style was casual, unlike his teaching demeanor, more like a rogue senior: “I’m not embarrassed.”

Sheng Wang was stunned, “You know?”

“More or less.” Zhao Xi shifted to a more relaxed position, “I heard some sounds back then. That alley is usually deserted, the old houses long vacated, only Mute and the old man still live there. Older folks sleep early, unlikely to be out at that hour. The only ones likely to be there were you and Jiang Tian.”

“This matter could’ve just passed, but I talked with Linzi, worried it might leave some shadow on a teenager—” He joked, chuckling, “So I thought I’d chat with you since I had time today. Were you… scared?”

Sheng Wang realized he’d been so tangled up for days that he’d forgotten if his initial reaction was fear. He hesitated, then said, “Actually, not really.”

“Really? You’re that accepting?” Zhao Xi raised an eyebrow.

“It was unexpected, a bit surprising. But thinking about it later…” Sheng Wang’s expression turned complex for a moment, then relaxed, “It didn’t seem like a big deal.”

Zhao Xi studied him, nodding thoughtfully.

His eyes were slightly lighter than average, close to a watery brown. Or maybe the window glass reflected a large patch of light in his eyes, making Sheng Wang feel as if his thoughts were fully exposed.

He lowered his eyes, spinning the book in his hand a few times. Trying to change the subject, he asked Zhao Xi, “Weren’t you worried about leaving a shadow? Why only talk to me and not Jiang Tian? Are you and Lin-ge so sure I’m the only one who saw?”

“Not sure,” Zhao Xi said, “but it’s different.”

“What’s different?”

Zhao Xi said, “You don’t know about me and Linzi, but Jiang Tian does.”