Chapter 63

The night wind, carrying the sweet scent of osmanthus, brushed past Zhou Chiyu’s ear as he wandered alone in the He Family’s small courtyard. He had already forgotten He Zhao’s surprised expression.

Wouldn’t it have been better to just say it outright?

He hated it when others probed him.

Besides, even if He Zhao had noticed something, he shouldn’t have alluded to it through a literary work.

This was, after all, a private matter between him and Gu Yuan.

His phone buzzed with vibrations.

Zhou Chiyu opened it to find an apology message from He Zhao.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he tapped on Gu Yuan’s profile picture. He realized that Gu Yuan hadn’t messaged him all day.

Over the years they’d been apart, even while undergoing treatment, Gu Yuan had insisted on voice calls. In those two thousand-plus days, they had never lost contact.

Back home, Zhou Chiyu took a sullen shower, then wandered aimlessly around the house. Eventually, he ended up at their Secret Base.

Gu Yuan loved stargazing, and he had taught Zhou Chiyu how to use the Astronomical Telescope.

He lay on the carpet, smiling up at Venus in the distance, and gently waved his hand.

If all had gone smoothly, his family members should have been thirteen years old by now.

At that moment, a WeChat notification chimed.

He quickly grabbed his phone, only to see that the message wasn’t from Gu Yuan, but from Zhou Junyi.

[Little Fish, I’m back in the country. Got time for dinner tomorrow?]

In fourth grade, Zhou Junyi had gone back to Britain to study. Their contact over the years hadn’t been close, but they always exchanged birthday wishes.

Zhou Chiyu replied absentmindedly with “Sure” and continued clutching his phone, waiting for Gu Yuan’s message.

He could have called Gu Yuan himself, but he was being stubborn, hoping Gu Yuan would take the initiative.

The starlight traced paths across Zhou Chiyu’s body. He curled up against a pillow and, in his dream, saw five-year-old Gu Yuan.

…

In the morning, the Gu Family’s dining room was filled with the faint aroma of oatmeal.

Gu Lao was reading the newspaper when he saw Zhou Chiyu trudging downstairs listlessly. He pushed up his reading glasses. “What’s wrong with you?”

Zhou Chiyu slumped into a chair dejectedly. “Didn’t sleep well.”

Thin wontons like cicada wings floated in chicken broth, emitting an enticing savory fragrance. He held the porcelain bowl, looking wilted like a frost-bitten eggplant, with no appetite at all.

Seeing Zhou Chiyu’s droopy demeanor, Gu Lao grew even more puzzled. He pondered it all the way until Zhou Chiyu left for school.

That morning, Zhou Chiyu had no classes and met Zhou Junyi at a famous dim sum restaurant.

Compared to when he was ten, Zhou Junyi’s features had become strikingly refined and handsome. His 1.9-meter height made him stand out on the street. Zhou Chiyu walked beside him for a bit and already drew countless stares.

He kept glancing at his phone from time to time, but the message list remained empty.

“Little Fish, are you feeling unwell today?” Zhou Junyi blinked at him. “Or does this dim sum place not suit your taste?”

He noticed that Zhou Chiyu hadn’t touched his chopsticks since sitting down.

“Not unwell, just a bit sleepy.” Zhou Chiyu picked up a crystal shrimp dumpling and smiled at Zhou Junyi. “You’ve gotten even more handsome.”

“Really?” Zhou Junyi’s brows arched playfully. “How do I compare to Gu Yuan?”

“My Brother?” Gu Yuan’s face floated into Zhou Chiyu’s mind again, stirring up irritation. “You’re way handsomer than him.”

“That’s high praise coming from you.” Zhou Junyi sipped his tea, his tone gossipy. “Didn’t your Brother come back to the country? With his personality, he should’ve come with you. He seems super clingy with you.”

“He’s gone back to the USA.” Zhou Chiyu sighed. “There’s a competition.”

“That makes sense.” Zhou Junyi thought for a moment and smiled faintly. “So, has he dated anyone? Or are you two already together?”

“Together?”

Zhou Chiyu’s mind went blank for a moment. Over the years, he was sure he had never told Zhou Junyi anything about Gu Yuan. Why would he ask that?

“Yeah, he likes you. Didn’t you know?” Zhou Junyi took a bite of glutinous rice chicken claws and raved, “Domestic food is still the best.”

Noticing Zhou Chiyu’s stunned expression, he continued, “When we were little, he treated me like a romantic rival and kept provoking me.”

“I was puzzled back then. You’re brothers, so why was Gu Yuan so possessive of you?”

“But later I figured, you don’t share blood ties, so being together is no issue.”

Zhou Chiyu took a long time to process those words.

So, Gu Yuan had liked him since way back.

Even through the afternoon classes, his mind lingered at the dim sum place, slow to return. The afternoon lectures dragged on, and the students were listless. The tiered classroom filled with the faint scent of coffee.

Zhou Chiyu stared blankly at the blackboard until he finally received a message from Gu Yuan.

[My Sweety, good afternoon.]

He had to admit, seeing those words lifted his mood noticeably. But then he snapped back and resentfully set the phone face-down on the desk, continuing his notes.

His roommate nearby looked at him curiously. “Fighting with your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Zhou Chiyu kept a straight face. “Don’t wanna talk to him.”

The roommate flashed a mischievous grin of surprise. “When did you get a boyfriend?”

Zhou Chiyu’s hand froze on his Fountain Pen.

He had automatically slotted Gu Yuan into the boyfriend role!

“Not a boyfriend.” Zhou Chiyu propped his cheek evasively, but the others had already caught the whiff of gossip. They winked and nudged, ignoring the lecture.

When class finally ended, he slung his Schoolbag over his shoulder and bolted, panting hard. Only after confirming no one followed did he relax.

The late autumn daytime still carried some stuffiness. His fingers hovered over the keyboard repeatedly before typing: “I’m not your Sweety.“

He shoved the phone into his pocket, his heart pounding wildly. He anticipated Gu Yuan’s reaction but also feared making him angry. Yet Gu Yuan had ignored him first yesterday.

The incoming call rang persistently. Zhou Chiyu glanced and saw it was Gu Yuan. He secretly curved his lips and hit decline.

[Little Fish? You busy?]

Zhou Chiyu’s smile deepened. “Nope.”

[Then why didn’t you pick up?]

Zhou Chiyu sent a voice message, his tone sarcastic. “Worried you’re busy, duh. After all, you didn’t have time for me yesterday.”

Silence stretched on the other end. Zhou Chiyu grew extremely anxious waiting.

Then, a voice message from Gu Yuan popped up: “Little Fish, I was sick yesterday. Got an IV at the Hospital.”

Zhou Chiyu froze for two seconds, then immediately called back.

“Hello.”

Gu Yuan’s cool voice carried a heavy nasal tone. “My Sweety’s finally talking to me.”

Zhou Chiyu sounded anxious. “How’d you get sick? Didn’t the doctor say your illness was cured?”

“Don’t worry.” Gu Yuan’s hoarse voice held a light laugh. “I was busy with the competition yesterday, no rest. Temperature dropped lately, caught a chill, so fever.”

“Then wear more clothes!” Zhou Chiyu’s voice trembled from the effort. “Gu Yuan, you’re an adult now. Learn to take care of yourself.”

Silence fell briefly on the line. Gu Yuan chuckled lowly. “First time hearing you call my name.”

Unknowingly, Zhou Chiyu had reached the lakeside. He frowned slightly. “Bro.”

“But what if I can’t learn to take care of myself?” Gu Yuan’s cough came muffled and intense, yet laced with amusement. “Doctor said even though my illness is cured, my constitution’s still far from normal. When I’m old and sick, no one’ll care for me.”

“How could no one care for you?” Zhou Chiyu knew full well Gu Yuan said it for his ears. Recalling Bai Wenran’s words, he felt inexplicably aggrieved, imagining Gu Yuan marrying someone else after Gu Lao passed, leaving him the lonely one.

His voice choked. “You’ll have your wife. Maybe sons and grandsons later. Plenty of people to care for you!”

Faint sobs leaked from the phone. Gu Yuan gripped it, eyes filled with deep resolve.

“Little Fish, I won’t marry or have kids. Even if you don’t end up with me, I won’t marry anyone else.”

The lakeside wind grew stronger. Zhou Chiyu sat dazed on a rock, head bowed, wiping tears from his eyes.

If that was the case, what could be worse for Bai Wenran than Gu Yuan never marrying?

But it was a selfish thought. What if Gu Yuan changed his mind someday and wanted marriage and kids?

“Whether I marry or not has nothing to do with you.” Gu Yuan seemed to read his mind, piercing his exact worry. “It’s my choice. No one can change it.”

Zhou Chiyu’s emotions gradually calmed. He gently smoothed his wind-tousled hair, like a drenched puppy, and pulled a bag of Animal-Shaped Cookies from his Schoolbag.

He hadn’t eaten much breakfast or lunch and was starving now.

He popped five small cookies into his mouth at once, frowning aggrievedly.

All Gu Yuan’s fault!

The crisp crunching sounds reached the other end. Gu Yuan guessed he was eating and held the phone up carefully while on his IV. “Windy there, right? Face away from it when eating, Baby, or your tummy’ll hurt.”

Zhou Chiyu marveled at Gu Yuan’s perceptiveness and obediently complied.

Hugging his Schoolbag, he ambled along the lakeside to a wind-sheltered pavilion and, like a child, focused intently on his treat.

“I wanna give you a gift.” He remembered the Jade Pendant and said softly, “It has great meaning.”

“Thanks. I prepared a birthday gift for you too.” Gu Yuan seemed to sense some shift in Zhou Chiyu. “Wait till I get back.”

“Mm-hmm.” Zhou Chiyu probed again. “You sure you can make it back for my birthday, right?”

“I promise.” Gu Yuan’s voice softened into a gentle drawl. “How could I miss my Little Fish’s birthday?”

Zhou Chiyu smiled softly. “When you get back, I wanna tell you something important. It’ll be a surprise.”