Zhou Zhuoli was dumbfounded.
After saying that, Zhou Zhuoyuan stood up to leave.
Anxious, Zhou Zhuoli jumped to his feet as well. “Eat a bit more. I won’t nag you anymore…”
Zhou Zhuoyuan’s tone was icy. “I’m done.”
He took a few steps before realizing Zhou Zhuoli was trailing behind him.
This irritated him to no end. “I’m fine right now. I don’t need your pity—stop following me!”
What was this? It was as if Zhou Zhuoyuan had lived such a tragic life that even those who despised him couldn’t help but sympathize with his plight.
Zhou Zhuoli didn’t dare argue with him. “Then let me buy some snacks for you to take back.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan shot back, “Can’t I buy them myself?”
Zhou Zhuoli was at a loss for words. He could only watch helplessly as Zhou Zhuoyuan’s figure vanished through the cafeteria doors.
Two years ago, Zhou Zhuoyuan would wishfully ask him for cheap birthday gifts. Now, all he could muster was a sarcastic, “Can’t I buy them myself?”
~~~
The dorm was empty when Zhou Zhuoyuan arrived. He caught sight of the academy ornament on his desk and swiftly averted his gaze, sitting down to do his homework.
The sound of the door opening made him look up. Seeing it was Guan Qi, he promptly lowered his head again.
Guan Qi placed a pack of cookies next to his hand. “Eldest Young Master, you’re working so hard—you’re not giving me any room to breathe here.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan had no appetite. “Don’t bother me.”
By the time Pei He returned, Zhou Zhuoyuan had finished studying and was taking a nap.
He didn’t climb into bed. Instead, he sat motionless in his chair, quietly gazing at the mound of blanket on Zhou Zhuoyuan’s bunk.
Fifty minutes later, Zhou Zhuoyuan woke up right on time. He didn’t meet Pei He’s eyes or say a word.
Perhaps the news of He Qinglan’s misfortune hadn’t disrupted his life too much.
Aside from a slight case of losing his voice.
During the first class that afternoon, he noticed his throat wouldn’t produce sound easily.
Zhou Zhuoyuan pretended not to know the answer, shaking his head at the teacher. Then he feigned low spirits and ignored his friends’ questions.
That evening, Zhu Wan showed up too. She and Zhou Zhuoli sat across from Zhou Zhuoyuan, gently coaxing him to go home and rest. No matter what they said, he didn’t respond, as if he wasn’t ready to end the cold war yet.
He barely touched his dinner again. Afterward, instead of heading straight back to the classroom, he hid in the bathroom searching “how to quickly recover from losing your voice.” Most of the results were about treatments for overuse or throat infections.
Zhou Zhuoyuan stared at his screen with downcast eyes. Just before it locked, he tapped the search bar and changed it to “how to quickly recover from psychogenic aphonia.”
The webpage titles leaped out at him—somatization, depression, and other alarming keywords.
He bit his lower lip and searched again: “Does psychogenic aphonia always mean depression?”
After wrestling with it for a while, he finally found a doctor saying that intense emotions could temporarily impair vocal cord function, but proper rest would restore normal movement.
Zhou Zhuoyuan let out a long sigh of relief.
He’d head back to rest right after self-study that night.
~~~
Zhou Zhuoyuan hadn’t been back in the dorm long when Pei He returned. He wasn’t sure how to act around Pei He now, so he busied himself tidying his bed.
Distracted as he was, he accidentally pinched his finger. He reflexively jerked back and shook it.
“What happened?” Pei He was right beside him. He immediately grabbed Zhou Zhuoyuan’s hand in alarm and slipped the bruised fingertip into his mouth.
Zhou Zhuoyuan stared at him in bewilderment, unable to fathom why Pei He still worried about him like this.
After sucking on it, Pei He asked anxiously, “Does it hurt?”
Zhou Zhuoyuan glanced at his fingertip—still faintly purple, now slick with saliva. It probably did hurt.
The heart was connected to the fingers, after all. It must hurt a lot.
Pei He said, “If it hurts, cry it out. I swear I won’t laugh at you.”
Did it really hurt that much? Enough to cry without being mocked?
Zhou Zhuoyuan’s nose suddenly stung fiercely. He took a few quick breaths, staring at Pei He’s face until it blurred. He couldn’t make out Pei He’s features anymore.
Fat teardrops rolled down. He squeezed his eyes shut to force them out, but when he opened them, his vision cleared only briefly before blurring again.
How embarrassing, Zhou Zhuoyuan thought.
Pei He didn’t mock him. Instead, he pulled him into an embrace.
Zhou Zhuoyuan buried his face in Pei He’s shoulder, quickly soaking a large patch.
He opened his mouth, managing only a breathy whisper. “Don’t you hate me?”
Pei He’s heart twisted painfully, like it had been crushed. He cursed him fiercely. “What kind of dumbass logic is that? Why the hell would I hate you?”
Hearing the scolding only made Zhou Zhuoyuan cry harder. Speaking in whispers was exhausting. “If I… hadn’t been so petty… demanding the Buddhist prayer beads back… he wouldn’t have… had his accident.”
Pei He said, “How are you so superstitious? And those beads were yours to begin with. By that logic, every accident in the world is your fault?”
Zhou Zhuoyuan had always come up short in their exchanges, and now that he couldn’t even speak, he had no choice but to sob and repeat himself. “Why don’t you hate me? Why don’t you hate me?”
Pei He stroked his back soothingly, like he was comforting a child, but it did nothing to stem the flow. Zhou Zhuoyuan had bottled up so many tears that this time he was letting them pour out all at once, making the most of it.
After what felt like an eternity, Pei He finally stilled his hand. He leaned close to Zhou Zhuoyuan’s ear and murmured softly, “There’s no shame at all in feeling sad for him. It just proves how seriously you took that relationship.”
“I’m hurting too. I snuck out this morning to cry it all out before coming back.”
“Once you’ve gotten it all out of your system, you can start living properly again.”
“Little Yuan, you’ve already been incredibly strong.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan had been run ragged without a proper break, and he’d just pinched his finger in frustration moments ago. Suddenly, a choked whimper escaped his throat.
~~~
Guan Qi leaned against the doorframe, keeping his voice low as he spoke into the phone. “He’s finally crying it out now. He really doesn’t want me around, so I’ll have my roommate try to get some food into him later.”
Zhou Zhuoyi pressed his lips together. “Sorry to trouble you. Mom won’t let me go see my brother, so thank goodness you’re there.”
Guan Qi brushed it off. “No trouble at all.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan’s eyelids were puffy and red from all the crying; there was no way he could study anymore. After a quick rinse, he headed for bed, but Pei He handed him a pack of XX Brand Biscuits and a glass of water. “Top up your energy and hydration. That way you can keep the tears flowing after lights out.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan stared at him. “…”
“Do you… think… you’re… funny?”
Pei He looked earnest. “I’m dead serious. No joke.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan felt a spark of irritation, but as he eyed the XX Brand Biscuits, his stomach did rumble—he really was hungry.
Back over the past few years, whenever he’d gotten sick, Aunt Wu would always bring his favorite XX Brand Biscuits to cheer him up.
Zhou Zhuoyuan crunched through the entire pack and drained the glass of water. But to prove he wouldn’t cry once he was in bed, he squeezed his eyes shut and fell asleep almost immediately.
Pei He waited until his breathing evened out into deep sleep before heading off to wash up and turn in himself.
In the middle of the night, though, Pei He got up to use the bathroom and caught sight of the covers on the lower bunk quivering faintly. A slender hand snaked out, snatched a couple of tissues, and retreated back inside. The quiet snuff of a nose-blow followed—polite enough not to wake his roommate.
When Pei He returned, he settled at the foot of the bed and stayed there, keeping vigil for as long as Zhou Zhuoyuan cried.
For the first time, he decided He Qinglan was a thoroughgoing, self-righteous asshole.
That said, if their positions were reversed, Pei He doubted he could’ve handled it any better himself.
That morning, the news had hit Pei He like a punch to the gut too. He’d bolted out the door right away to check on He Qinglan.
Thankfully, the call went through quickly. He Qinglan’s voice shook as he explained that he hadn’t boarded the flight. “I got to the airport and regretted it instantly—wanted to head straight back to school. I checked my seat assignment, and if I’d gotten on… it would’ve been a death sentence. Pei He, I never imagined they’d stoop so low—over twenty lives lost! I can’t stay here. Just tell Little Yuan I’m gone…”
Pei He’s relief curdled into dread, then icy fury. He cut in sharply. “So did you ever stop to ask what he wants?”
He Qinglan’s tone grew heated. “How? Ask him to drop everything and come abroad with me? Risk his neck too? Or leave him here at school, scared out of his mind? He wants X University more than anything, and the Gaokao’s right around the corner. You want me to torpedo his future?”
Pei He always went straight for the jugular. “So you never gave him a say in it? Were you afraid his worrying would mess up your exam prep, or that it’d make you waver on charging back into danger?”
He Qinglan fell silent for a beat, and when he spoke again, his usual mildness had darkened into something brooding. “Cut the act. You think I haven’t noticed you carrying a torch for him?”
Pei He’s face drained of color. It took him a long moment to rasp out, “When did you figure it out?”
He Qinglan: “That hiking trip last time.”
Pei He: “That’s why you passed on the interviews at A University and C University?”
He Qinglan: “Not entirely.”
From there, a heavy silence stretched between them.
He Qinglan broke it first. “Sorry. I lost it for a second. I know you’re not the type. I’m just… not ready to let go. Take care of him for me from now on… Nah, who am I to ask that?”
Pei He knew exactly what he meant. “I’ll look after him.”
More silence.
He Qinglan let out a sigh. “Thanks. I’ll ditch this number. If I make it back, I’ll reach out.”
Pei He offered his childhood friend one last heartfelt wish. “Just stay alive.”
Back then, hiding the truth that He Qinglan was still out there hadn’t seemed all that difficult.
Pei He sat alone in the four-person dorm room, gazing at the small bundle huddled on the bed that was Zhou Zhuoyuan. He could only hope that tomorrow his eyes wouldn’t be so swollen he couldn’t open them. Otherwise, if he couldn’t make out the teacher’s writing on the blackboard, he’d probably feel even worse.
cried too- wow- MY POOR BABYYY