Chapter 26 Part 2

Flustered, he ran back to his room. Lu Qingyuan was no longer there.

Chen Annan pushed his test papers aside. Just as he was about to pull out his English workbook, he suddenly noticed that, neatly placed where his brother had been sitting, was his assignment.

The open practice book had pencil marks and circles around each question, indicating the grammar points tested. Subjects, predicates, and objects were parsed. Morphological changes were noted. All the key points to memorize were neatly written on a blank piece of paper—along with the most crucial thing: the answers.

Chen Annan stared at the scratch paper, his heart shouting: Answers! No need to copy from someone else tomorrow morning! He could sleep an extra ten minutes!

The summer evening breeze wafted in through the screen window, fluttering the edge of the paper to reveal, at the very end, a line of thin, hasty small characters: This won’t happen again.

In Chen Annan’s mind, this matter was considered closed. He never imagined that, because Lu Qingyuan suspected him of early romance, Lu Qingyuan hadn’t relaxed for a long time.

He felt as if a seed had been planted in his heart, swelling boundlessly with the arrival of puberty.

Chen Annan went to school with his brother every morning. Their junior high division and senior high division weren’t originally on the same campus. Due to the temporary expansion of the junior high, they merged with the senior high campus. Subsequently, to unify teaching schedules, the junior high’s daily routine was almost synchronized with the senior high’s, except for evening self-study.

Therefore, whenever he had the chance, Lu Qingyuan would keep a close eye on Chen Annan.

When Chen Annan saw that the person in front with a red armband, inspecting and deducting points, was actually Lu Qingyuan, he froze solid for several seconds.

Also frozen was the junior high Disciplinarian, who was specifically assigned to inspect junior high: “Senior, I don’t think you’re assigned to inspect the junior high division.”

Lu Qingyuan didn’t speak. He just glanced sideways. The Disciplinarian immediately turned his head and said, “Oh dear, I’m sorry, my mistake. I’ll go inspect senior high right away.”

Chen Annan: “…”

Lu Qingyuan was indeed a cold and somber person. Although his looks were not inferior—well-defined features, a sharp and attractive jawline—his slightly upturned eyes, when looking at someone, were filled with an oppressive, scrutinizing force. This made people feel he was gloomy and hard to approach.

Just like that, Lu Qingyuan, wearing a red armband, would frequently visit the junior high division to deduct points whenever he had free time. Furthermore, he especially loved deducting points from Class 5, Grade 7.

So much so that the students of Class 5, Grade 7 were somewhat afraid of him. This senior’s unsmiling, rigorous point-deducting manner was truly intimidating. Many times, they suspected someone in the class had offended the senior high people and they were secretly carrying out retaliatory strikes.

Only Chen Annan remained unmoved, lying on his desk copying song lyrics.

A near-transparent sheet of thin paper was laid over the lyric sheet. He carefully traced the fonts stroke by stroke. The girl behind him was again talking about how she’d begged her mom to buy a limited-edition vinyl record and invited Chen Annan to her house next time to listen.

Chen Annan responded excitedly, “Okay, okay,” completely oblivious to the pair of eyes outside silently watching him.

Thus, Chen Annan was like a spring—under pressure, bound to rebound with endless elasticity.

Even though Lu Qingyuan practically had his eyes glued to him 24/7, had even confiscated his phone, Chen Annan still found ways to contact his “little girlfriend.” Once, he even sneaked off to an internet cafe and was caught by the Dean of Students, resulting in a scathing two-class-period public criticism.

Lu Qingyuan saw Chen Annan standing on the sports field talking to that girl several times. When they got to the exciting parts, Chen Annan would cover his face and tilt his head, laughing. The afternoon sunlight, like shattered gold, beat down, stinging one’s eyes.

Just when Lu Qingyuan finally couldn’t bear it anymore and was ready to have a frank talk with Chen Annan, another major incident happened at home.

That evening, Lu Qingyuan arrived home after evening self-study. From a distance, he saw wisps of black smoke drifting from his house.

Startled, thinking the house was on fire and remembering Chen Annan was inside, he stood up on his pedals and rode as if taking flight. Gasping for breath, he rushed into the yard—only to find Chen Annan squatting on the ground, burning things in an enamel basin.

The flames greedily licked the papers tossed inside, leaping high in the night, illuminating Chen Annan’s face, which was streaked with tears. He squatted there quietly, his face smudged grey with soot, looking exactly like a little calico cat.

Lu Qingyuan’s heart lurched. He tossed his bicycle against the wall, rushed over, and pulled Chen Annan up. “What’s wrong with you?”

But Chen Annan refused to stand. He wept sorrowfully, hugging his knees, sobbing, “My idol’s house collapsed…”

“Huh?” Lu Qingyuan looked up at the house standing perfectly intact behind them and wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Patiently, he asked, “Where did the house collapse? Or did your junior high building collapse? An earthquake? Are you okay?”

Chen Annan’s thin pale blue veins trembled under his delicate eyelids. He lifted a pair of damp eyes, wiped his tears, and said, “Brother, if someone you really liked—”

“I don’t like anyone,” Lu Qingyuan cut him off.

“Fine…” Chen Annan rephrased, still immersed in his own little world of sorrow, both hands propping up his chin. “If someone you really care about did something horrible behind your back, would you forgive them?”

Lu Qingyuan was momentarily speechless, unsure how to answer. But he also related it to himself: if his future girlfriend betrayed him, he would absolutely never forgive her. However, speaking of which… was Chen Annan asking this because he’d also been heartbroken?

Seeing Chen Annan burning things, with his face covered in tears, only solidified Lu Qingyuan’s suspicion.

The emotions he’d been suppressing finally erupted. The words of harsh scolding had already risen to his throat, but before he could spit them out, Chen Annan suddenly hugged him.

“Brother… wuwu—” He wrapped both arms around Lu Qingyuan’s waist, burying his face deep. The tears streaming down, mixed with black ash, smeared all over Lu Qingyuan’s chest.

Brother’s school uniform was oversized. It seemed to cover tightly, but actually, the sides were quite loose. Getting close, one could smell the faint scent of laundry detergent.

It was the same detergent for both, but the scent on Brother always carried warmth. Hugging him gave Chen Annan a gently, safe, enveloping feeling. He had loved this since he was little.

The reprimand that had surged to Lu Qingyuan’s lips never fell. He raised a hand and patted Chen Annan’s head. “Being heartbroken is nothing. No one at this age can guarantee forever.”

Hearing this, Chen Annan paused. He looked up, his watery eyes staring at Lu Qingyuan. After a long moment, he opened his mouth and asked, “Does failing as a fan count as heartbreak?”

“…” Lu Qingyuan was silent for a moment. A string in his mind seemed to be plucked. He said, “When you said ‘house collapse’… you don’t mean your idol’s scandal, do you?”

Chen Annan thought for a second. “If the school building collapsed, I could accept that too.”

The two faced each other under the night sky. Lu Qingyuan suppressed his emotions, then suppressed them again, but still couldn’t help throwing out the question he’d held for days: “The day you lied… I saw you and a girl exchanging a love letter.”

Chen Annan searched his memory carefully and suddenly remembered. “Oh, wait a sec.”

Before Lu Qingyuan could figure out what was happening, Chen Annan had dashed back inside. Moments later, he dashed back out, holding a pink envelope.

It was the same envelope Lu Qingyuan had seen that day, the one Chen Annan had practically wanted to kiss.

Without any hesitation, Chen Annan opened the envelope. Lu Qingyuan’s heart jumped to his throat with the motion. Adhering to the principle of not prying into others’ privacy, he turned his face away. But when he heard Chen Annan say “See?”, he couldn’t help sneaking a glance.

That look, and he recognized it—what love letter?! It was a small photo card with a picture of a young, handsome boy printed on it. A current popular singer, wearing bell-bottom pants nearly dragging on the floor, hair long enough for a tiny ponytail, holding a guitar in his arms, performing passionately on stage. In the bottom right corner was a soaring, flamboyant autograph.

The fire in the basin was dying but not yet extinguished. Watching the edges of the photo being slowly consumed, Chen Annan sniffled hard. “Sigh, Miaomiao went to the concert and specially brought this back for me.”

This feeling of pouring your heart into something, only to have it suddenly hollowed out… was probably the same as heartbreak.

Lu Qingyuan frowned. “If this wasn’t a love letter, why did you hide it that day?”

Chen Annan blinked, not understanding.

Lu Qingyuan said, “That day, I saw you hide something. Weren’t you trying to cover it up?”

Chen Annan replied honestly, “But if you had seen it, you definitely would’ve said I wasn’t focused on my studies and confiscated it.”

“And the internet cafe…”

“My phone was confiscated by you. I had to promote his new song! I swear I’ll never go again. Please don’t be mad, okay?”

“And lying to go to a classmate’s house?”

“We arranged to watch DVDs together. I was afraid you wouldn’t agree.”

Actually, it wasn’t that he wanted to watch TV at someone else’s house. It was just that their own TV had broken recently. Since Lu Qingyuan wasn’t in the habit of watching TV, and Lu Wenyuan came home late and didn’t watch either, no one had noticed.

Chen Annan knew everyone was busy, so he hadn’t bothered anyone with this small matter.

Moreover, Miaomiao’s house had lots of different discs—movies and music videos. They gathered at her place every day to watch DVDs. Sometimes they watched variety competition shows, voting with their phones in solidarity. They shared their idols’ new songs over QQ. They were having a great time.

Everything was suddenly crystal clear. The huge boulder in Lu Qingyuan’s heart finally landed safely on the ground.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb across his little brother’s cheek, leaving a dark smudge. Disgustedly, he said, “Stop crying. You look awful.”

The words weren’t pleasant, and his face held little expression. But the yard light softly cast its glow, illuminating the corners of his eyes and brows—they were clearly gentle.

Before, Chen Annan would’ve been unhappy and talked back eight hundred times. But this time, he just impatiently threw out an “You’re so annoying,” wiped his face haphazardly, and ran back inside.

The summer quietly faded with the weakening sound of cicadas.

Not long after, Chen Annan discovered the TV at home had been fixed. That day, Lu Wenyuan also brought home a brand new DVD player. He inserted a shiny disc. As the white noise flickered, a blue screen with a panda logo appeared on the LCD screen.

That night, the three of them curled up together watching discs for the whole evening, from movies to music videos.

Chen Annan stared at the people on the TV, utterly entranced, not even blinking. His mouth hung open in amazement.

On the screen was a Korean group that had swept across Asia in recent years. They wore completely ill-fitting, oversized clothes and had exaggerated long hair and bangs. An electric guitar seemed to fly between their fingers.

Lu Wenyuan stroked Cotton Candy’s white fur and teased, “Cub, do you really like them?”

Chen Annan nodded, sprawled bonelessly on his brother’s stomach, keeping the beat. “So cool.”

Lu Qingyuan shoved him aside, finding him annoying.

Days passed swiftly amidst these trivial moments, and in the blink of an eye, it was the tail end of 2007.

During this time, Lu Wenyuan found his son increasingly strange. Finally, one day, he couldn’t help but say to Lu Qingyuan, who was combing his hair, “Cub, your hair is so long you could tie it in a braid now. Why not get a haircut? Doesn’t the teacher say anything?”

Of course, the teachers said something. The Dean of Students even conducted spot checks at the school gate every few days.

But no one had discovered that Lu Qingyuan secretly tied his hair into a tiny bun every day. The winter school uniform jacket was oversized, and he could wear a down jacket underneath. When the jacket was zipped all the way up to his chin, that little ponytail was perfectly hidden. He hid it very well.

Lu Qingyuan paused. “Isn’t it cool?”

“…” Lu Wenyuan really didn’t have the heart to dampen his son’s confidence. He pretended to be very busy and changed the subject. “Right, I’ve noticed you’re quite into the guitar lately. If you really like it, Dad can also sign you up for a class? You and Nannan can go to lessons together. It’ll save you from figuring it out alone at home.”

Even a doting father like Lu Wenyuan couldn’t stand Lu Qingyuan’s daily demonic ear-piercing practice at home anymore.

Lu Qingyuan didn’t speak. He silently brushed his very cool hair back behind his shoulders. Then he silently hugged the guitar to his chest. Finally, he dialed Xiao Qingxiang’s number:

“Mom, see how I play this time—”

But before he could finish, he heard the busy signal’s beep beep from the other end.