Yue Zhishi was doubtful of his answer, but he currently didn’t have enough air and was too busy to ponder over it. He just continued hugging Song Yu’s waist, resting on his body for a while. He waited until he felt better, and then he raised his face, very docilely pecking Song Yu’s lips and whispering I really missed you multiple times.
They were in an enclosed environment, and the bathroom smelled very strongly of an aromatherapy product. Worried it would irritate Yue Zhishi’s breathing, Song Yu didn’t want him to stay here for too long. He kissed Yue Zhishi’s forehead, took off his windbreaker for him to wear and took him away.
The cold wind rushed straight at them once they went back onto the street. Yue Zhishi followed Song Yu into his car, wrapped in his windbreaker, and he’d just sat down when he straightforwardly asked, “Are you going back to the dorm? Or the apartment?”
Song Yu fastened his seatbelt. “The apartment. My dorm mates are still in Beijing.”
Yue Zhishi twisted over when he heard this and placed his hand on Song Yu’s arm. “Then can I go too? I want to go.”
Song Yu didn’t immediately respond. He turned on the car, and then looked towards Yue Zhishi after a few moments. “You really aren’t afraid of me at all.”
That question came out as certainly as a declarative sentence, as though Yue Zhishi should actually guard against him a bit. After all, he had lost control just then — he hadn’t cared about what time it was or where they were, let alone his own obsession with cleanliness.
“Why would I be afraid of you?” Yue Zhishi was slightly confused, adding a few seconds later, “Oh, but I am a little bit. I was really afraid of you getting angry when I was younger. Even though you wouldn’t lose your temper at me, you wouldn’t speak at all. I don’t like it when you brood.”
They were completely not on the same page at all. Song Yu gave up. He saw Yue Zhishi still clutching that sketchbook, and he was reminded of that paper bag he had been prepared to give him when they first saw each other; the entire matter had been tossed to the back of his mind because of that unplanned kiss. He pulled it over and handed it to Yue Zhishi.
“You can put that in here.”
“Is there anything else inside?” Yue Zhishi saw it earlier and had been curious about why it was so large, thinking it was to only carry the milk tea. Glancing inside, he realised in astonishment that it held a new sketchbook with a dusty blue leather cover, and a block of cheese was also etched onto it.
“You managed to get it?” Yue Zhishi was very happily surprised. “That’s fantastic, I really like this sketchbook.” He stroked the small cheese design on the cover and curiously asked Song Yu, “Is this the brand’s logo?”
Song Yu vaguely said, “Something like that.”
“It’s so cute,” Yue Zhishi said from the bottom of his heart. He even hugged the new sketchbook together with the old one.
“How is it cute…..” Song Yu’s voice sounded uneasy.
Giving up on trying to understand Song Yu’s tastes, Yue Zhishi switched to ask about his Beijing conference. He only then learned that Song Yu had given up on the group activities on the final day — the academic conference had ended that morning, and he’d bought the final flight back.
“You should’ve gone to the Great Wall with them.” Yue Zhishi felt sorry for him.
“It’s too boring. I didn’t want to go.”
The sky darkened very rapidly, and by the time they arrived at the apartment, the sky had turned into full night. As Song Yu parked the car, Yue Zhishi suddenly realised: the car didn’t smell of a scent diffuser. It held only the fragrance from Song Yu’s body, as well as the very faint scent of leather that drifted up from the seats.
Song Yu asked him about the arts festival when they were in the elevator. “How’s your preparation going?”
“Can I say not well?” Yue Zhishi leaned against the elevator wall, looking at him. “I really don’t know what I’m doing.”
Song Yu didn’t blindly encourage him like other people; instead, he very seriously asked why he felt that way.
“I’m not professional at all.” The elevator arrived at their floor. Yue Zhishi shifted the backpack on his body and followed behind Song Yu. “I read through a lot of books lately, and I only just realised how hard it is to design clothes. There’s so much professional knowledge I don’t have, and so far, I still don’t know how to differentiate between different kinds of fabrics.”
He sighed. “And I don’t have any inspiration right now. The theme for the preliminary round is ‘lake’. I thought it was a really simple theme at first — since we see lakes so often — but I wasn’t satisfied with any of my designs after sketching out a lot. Plus the preliminary round’s tomorrow.”
“You still have some time.” Song Yu sounded like he was the organiser of the competition. “The preliminary round won’t be that strict. As long as you give them completed design drafts and ideas, there’s no reason for them not to pass you.”
“Really? Then what should I do in the later stages? I’ll need to personally make the clothes…”
Song Yu swiped the keycard, pushing open the door, and took Yue Zhishi’s bag to place it down in the entrance hall. He then put his hand on the top of Yue Zhishi’s head. “How remarkable. You’re a child who can even make clothes with his own two hands now.”
That sentence, paired with the imperturbable look on his indifferent face, sounded cute in a strange way. It was like he was a robot complimenting his little master according to his inbuilt programs, and at this thought, Yue Zhishi burst into laughter and glommed onto Song Yu.
“You’re so funny.” He rested his chin on the top of Song Yu’s shoulder.
Song Yu found it very peculiar — no matter if it was ‘cute’ or ‘funny’, both of those descriptions didn’t match him at all. But he still hugged Yue Zhishi back, even lifting him up in his arms without a single prior warning. He only let him down after Yue Zhishi called out ge in alarm.
“What are you doing?”
“You haven’t lost weight,” Song Yu said, as if to himself.
Yue Zhishi laughed again. “It’s only been a few days, how could I lose weight?”
Song Yu’s hand lay on his lower back, and he said, very mildly, “It feels like it’s been a long time.”
At these words, Yue Zhishi’s heart stumbled slightly.
He didn’t know where he found the courage, but he caught Song Yu’s hand and tugged him towards into the apartment. The curtains in the living room had yet to be pulled down, and the semi-dark space looked almost dark blue, like another lake. They headed towards the island in the middle — the soft sofa. Yue Zhishi loosened his hand and lightly pushed Song Yu’s shoulder, hinting at him to sit on the sofa; he himself sat on top of Song Yu’s thighs.
In the dimly lit space, he could see the touch of uncertainty in Song Yu’s eyes. Yue Zhishi took off the windbreaker and circled his arms around Song Yu’s neck. “I keep remembering about the kiss that was interrupted last time.”
His voice seemed thin and flimsy in the empty room — but it was because it was too quiet here, and even the sound of his breathing became very obvious.
“And I remember how it was interrupted. I also remember how much pain you were in afterwards, because we did something bad and because it might hurt your mom.”
The puffs of air from Yue Zhishi’s nose approached Song Yu, and there was a minute change in the tone of his voice.
“But for some reason, I think I like this feeling.”
Song Yu found it odd how this person, who had no knowledge of sexual desire at all, could display such a delicate, inexperienced allure at this very moment.
“What feeling?” He wrapped his arms around Yue Zhishi’s waist.
“The feeling of doing wrong things with you.” Once those words left his mouth, Yue Zhishi lowered his head, leaned in and did what he really, really wanted to do.
Song Yu’s lips were a bit cold, but they were very soft and supple; Yue Zhishi’s breathing was unsteady almost in the span of one moment.
He tried copying what Song Yu did in order to become the person in control, but he sensed that he wasn’t doing it well as he pressed their lips together, gently rubbing or sucking. He could even sense that his movements were making Song Yu impatient, because he tightened his hold on him until their chests pressed together.
He felt constricted, and it became even harder to breathe.
Within this clumsy kiss, like a child filled with reluctance to leave, Yue Zhishi intermittently called out for his gege, but little by little, he lost that brief moment of control. Song Yu’s entire person lurched forward to save the body that subconsciously pulled away in shyness — he clamped onto Yue Zhishi’s waist, and Yue Zhishi’s upper body arched backwards under the rising moon.
Song Yu’s kiss swallowed his breaths like lake water, the illusionary feeling of having an allergic attack once again appearing. Yue Zhishi tightly grasped onto Song Yu’s clothes, and his mouth opened, separating from the kiss, in the fluster of him tilting backwards. He was like a drowning man desperately struggling for the surface of the water, seeking just one breath.
So Song Yu’s lips started to move downwards, leaving behind traces of moisture on his flushed neck.
“Ge…”
Only one sound had left his mouth when Yue Zhishi’s entire world spun. He was set down onto the sofa, his back sinking deeply into softness.
Song Yu rushed on top of him, and he watched as the gleaming shimmer of the lake outside the window suddenly landed on Song Yu’s right eye and temple. The cool toned ray of light floated suggestively on his handsome face, as though it yearned to rise and fall.
He was the lake that was about to swallow him whole.
Song Yu propped himself up with a hand on the edge of the sofa, just about to lower his head to kiss — and then abruptly, Yue Zhishi prevented him from doing so. “I got it!”
Seeing him like that, Song Yu paused, puzzled. Yue Zhishi’s eyes were bright and luminous, and the look on his face changed from the dazed confusion from before to a vivid liveliness, as though he’d been suddenly injected with something.
“Gege, wait a bit. Get up first. I just had a great stroke of inspiration.” He wormed out from the narrow gap in between Song Yu’s arms, ran to the entrance hall and turned back to him after rummaging through his bag, the sketchbook and pens in his arms.
“What’s wrong?” Song Yu noticed his voice was somewhat hoarse, so he cleared his throat.
“I know how to express the theme now. It doesn’t have to be the richly green lake water of lovely weather days — the lake is also very beautiful in the dark.” Yue Zhishi was extremely excited. He pretty much forgot that the collar of his hoodie had been pulled to one side, a stretch of his glowing, pale collarbones still exposed.
Song Yu turned his face away and didn’t look at it. Yue Zhishi even ran over on purpose and kissed Song Yu’s cheek very generously. “The light from the lake on your face just then was so beautiful, and it was that moment that inspired me. Thank you.”
He sat down on the floor, cross-legged, as soon as he finished speaking. He borrowed the shimmers from the lake, his pen flying across the paper as he outlined the design. He shared his thoughts with Song Yu, saying, “I want the base to be a wide swath of black and dark blue colours. And then with something like silver tulle, the raised neckline would make it look almost submerged — as well as with silver embellishments.”
Yue Zhishi raised his head and looked towards Song Yu. “I’ve even thought of the make-up. I want the same kind of effect as when you were on top of me.”
Song Yu nodded, looking like he was slightly dissatisfied. He half-crouched in front of Yue Zhishi and pulled up his chin, forcing him to give him a kiss. He acted a bit ferociously and rose up before Yue Zhishi realised what was happening, turning on the lights in the living room for him.
As he picked up the windbreaker from the floor and turned to leave, Yue Zhishi reached out a hand and caught Song Yu’s calf. His eyes were still focused on his sketchbook, and yet his voice carried a coquettish lilt that was hard to detect. “Where are you going?”
“To shower.”
“You have to turn the water up a bit warmer, or else you might catch a cold.”
Song Yu rather suspected he said it on purpose.
Since he now had an idea, Yue Zhishi was filled with energy, and he was swiftly immersed into his work.
He first drew out his general ideas on paper, and then he went upstairs with his bag, sitting down in front of the desk in his room. He completed his first draft with his drawing tablet and laptop. Even though it was just the preliminary round in his school, Yue Zhishi still wanted to do his best, unwilling to just go through the motions. Following the theme of ‘lake’, he drew five pieces, the main colours being a subdued black, navy blue and dark turquoise, and used thin, sheer fabrics on the clothing shapes to portray the sensation of rippling water.
Song Yu came out of the bathroom in his pyjamas and went to stand behind Yue Zhishi, staring at the screen.
“How is it?” Yue Zhishi freed up a hand to search for Song Yu’s hand, but he couldn’t find it no matter where he groped — Song Yu caught him instead.
“Don’t cause trouble again,” Song Yu quietly said.
Yue Zhishi felt like he wasn’t causing trouble at all, let alone ‘again’. He squeezed Song Yu’s hand, assuring him, “Wait for me, I’ll go shower once I finish.”
This wait took a few hours. By the time Yue Zhishi finished colouring in his last piece, it was already close to midnight. Looking over, he realised Song Yu was already asleep on the bed, so he softly creeped to the bathroom downstairs, speedily cleaning up before he crawled into Song Yu’s blanket.
He’d just gotten in when Song Yu appeared to wake up, his eyebrows drawing together. Yue Zhishi was somewhat dismayed, but in the next second, the semiconscious Song Yu wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his embrace.
“Have you finished….” Song Yu’s voice sounded very muffled, very hoarse.
“Mn.” Yue Zhishi kissed his neck. “Thankfully I have you, or else I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done tomorrow.”
Song Yu made a vague noise in response, and his hand slipped under the edge of Yue Zhishi’s pyjamas, touching the bare skin of his back.
“Still want to do wrong things?”
Yue Zhishi’s face suddenly burned, his lower back tingling. “Ah…”
A very light noise came from Song Yu’s noise, and it sounded like a laugh. He caressed Yue Zhishi’s spine. “Sleep.”
With an early class that morning, Yue Zhishi got out of bed early together with Song Yu. He arrived on campus in Song Yu’s car and edited his drafted designs after lunch, quickly putting them into a powerpoint.
The preliminary round was each school’s selection of competitors — the ones who got through would enter the university’s competition in a team. The rules for the preliminary round were relatively simple because of that reason; everyone only needed to submit their design drafts. They were not required to actually construct the clothes. The preliminary rounds for both the law school and journalism and communication school were both on the 9th, and they were also in the same multimedia classroom.
The round for the journalism and communication school was booked for 2pm to 4pm, while the law school was for 4pm to 6pm. Yue Zhishi couldn’t stand waiting in his dorm after finishing his powerpoint, so he went over at 3pm.
“Don’t be nervous don’t be nervous.” Jiang Yufan went with him, and he squeezed Yue Zhishi’s shoulder. “You definitely can get in. It’s not easy getting into the school team, so don’t you worry.”
There were other people other than the two of them in the corridor; there were quite a few law students who’d arrived early just like Yue Zhishi. Song Yu couldn’t come with him because he had a class. Yue Zhishi sneaked a look at the window, but he couldn’t see anything — the curtains on the inside were drawn.
“Let me through.” A voice came from behind them, and Yue Zhishi subconsciously shifted to the side, his back supported by the wall.
A guy wearing streetwear with vintage translucent orange glasses walked passed him, his chin jutted high. He carried a set of sample clothes that were covered.
“Let me through, I want to go in.”
Jiang Yufan scoffed in contempt once that guy went inside. “He must be a crab to have to walk sideways.”
“Wow…” Yue Zhishi couldn’t stop himself from emotionally sighing; he’d watched him the entire way until he entered the classroom.
That guy definitely wasn’t someone simple. The preliminary round started at 2pm, and yet he arrived fashionably late at 3pm. He wasn’t nervous at all, even going above and beyond the requirements to make clothing samples.
“What’s so amazing about him?” Jiang Yufan grasped Yue Zhishi’s shoulders very protectively and shook him. “You are the best. Understand?!”
“He’s pretty strong.” Next to them, a girl also from the law school spoke, looking as though she recognised the person who’d just gone in. “My boyfriend’s in journalism, and he says that guy is most famous person in the school’s new students. He’s called Xu Lin. His dad’s a television news anchor, and his mom is quite a famous fashion designer. Both of them could be judges for our competition.”
It was like Jiang Yufan was suddenly enlightened. “Ooh, so the child’s following his mother’s footsteps. No wonder he looked so arrogant.”
That girl said again, “Yeah, I didn’t expect him to participate as well. Looks like the first place this year will belong to the journalism and communication school.”
Jiang Yufan nudged Yue Zhishi’s shoulder when he saw he wasn’t speaking. “Don’t be nervous.”
“Mn, I’m okay.” He had been so panicked before yesterday, but Yue Zhishi felt like he’d already stopped being nervous — he didn’t know why. He was only a bit curious about how everyone else’s designs looked.
He took out a piece of milk candy from his pocket, chucking it into his mouth.
The journalism school’s preliminary round finished at the same time he finished his candy.
The door opened, a bunch of people coming out, and the guy called Xu Lin took the lead in exiting. This time, his orange glasses were pushed to the top of his head, his long and narrow eyes full of confidence. He was even leisurely chewing bubble gum, and he was still holding his set of sample clothes.
There were quite a few people surrounding him. A short guy next to him was flattering him, saying, “You’ll definitely get into the school team. You’re already giving the competition face by participating in the preliminary round, and you even prepared so seriously — it was virtually an overpowered attack.”
Xu Lin arched an eyebrow, and he didn’t give either a response or an opinion; it seemed like he tacitly agreed.
When he passed Yue Zhishi, Xu Lin gave him a long look before walking past and turning around again. Yue Zhishi’s brain was currently filled with all the commentary he needed to say, so he walked around him to enter the classroom, not realising someone was looking at him at all.
“Hey.”
Yue Zhishi still wasn’t aware of what was happening, until someone circled around and ran in front of him — it was Xu Lin.
“What school are you from? The law school?” Xu Lin asked.
Jiang Yufan didn’t like his attitude. “What are you ‘hey’ing for, don’t you know how to say fellow student.”
Yue Zhishi had a good temper, so he nodded at Xu Lin. “Yes.”
“Are you also participating in this?” Xu Lin’s eyes measured Yue Zhishi from top to bottom once. “As a model, right? Models actually didn’t need to come today.”
He walked over to study Yue Zhishi’s profile, nodding to himself. “Your body proportions are quite good, and your features are also outstanding. It’d be such a pity if credentials as good as this went to be a model for the law school… Why don’t I hire you, and you can be my model?”
Jiang Yufan laughed in anger, seeing how confident he was. “Don’t you journalism students have people? Poaching from the law school — who would the championship belong to if you win?”
He’d been misunderstood completely.
Yue Zhishi looked at Xu Lin and said, extremely candidly, “Fellow student, you’re mistaken. I’m not a model. I registered for the clothing design competition.”
The look on the other person’s face changed — disbelief covered his entire face, and he even pulled down the orange glasses on top of his head to put them on his nose again. He sized him up once more. “Are you serious? Does the law school not have anyone else to design if they’re planting a model seedling into the hill of design?”
“No one said what a model should look like or what a designer should look like.” Yue Zhishi smiled at him. “You’re someone from the fashion industry. You should be more open and tolerant than us.”
But this Xu Lin had a strange personality as well, and he refused to give up. “You really don’t have to go. I’ll tell you directly, the law school doesn’t have much talented people. It’ll be a waste even if you get into the team. Why don’t you come to me — I can guarantee that I’ll absolutely make you shine at the fashion show.”
Jiang Yufan was rather worried. Yue Zhishi was famous for being soft, unable to reject anyone. It would be terrible if he really did end up being persuaded by this guy.
“Le Le…”
Unexpectedly, Yue Zhishi spoke first. It was an ill-timed thought, but he thought of those words Song Yu had said not too long ago — and decided to take the first step towards being a qualified adult.
“Thank you for recognising my outer credentials.” He spoke gently, a sincere smile on his face. Xu Lin thought he’d been convinced, crossing his arms across his chest in extreme satisfaction, but Yue Zhishi’s next words deviated from what he imagined.
“But I apologise, I still refuse your offer. I decided to participate as a designer from the very beginning, and if I can enter my school’s design team and contribute, I’d be honoured beyond measure. I have never considered any other option.”
Xu Lin looked like he couldn’t understand him at all. He even looked as though he was about to roll his eyes at him, before he held himself back. But his chin was still angled highly, and he still held that utter confidence in himself. “You’ll regret it.”
“I won’t.”
Yue Zhishi was still smiling, and he shrugged.
“And I don’t need other people to make me shine. I can do it myself.”