Chapter 50 Part 1

At that time, Lu Wenyuan didn’t yet know the boy’s name.

But in his memory, he had seen him a few times. Once was in the school library. Lu Wenyuan was sitting by the window, intently reading in the golden patch of light dragged in by the sun.

“Professor Lu,” someone called him.

Lu Wenyuan looked up to see this boy sitting down opposite him. “The professor also comes to the library to borrow books?”

“The professor also eats rice,” Lu Wenyuan replied.

The boy laughed again, though silently this time. The library was quiet in the afternoon. He looked at the fine lines at the corners of Lu Wenyuan’s eyes and asked, “Does Professor Lu take on graduate students? If so, I’ll have to prepare to apply for a degree at this university.”

“Take the exam,” Lu Wenyuan said, “If you come, I’ll personally supervise you.”

“An honor, truly an honor,” the boy said. “You can’t go back on your word.”

Lu Wenyuan laughed. “I won’t. Hurry and come. Wait a few more years, and maybe I won’t be taking students anymore.”

The boy grinned at him cheerfully, blowing a big bubble with the chewing gum in his mouth.

Moved by this childlike gesture, Lu Wenyuan bowed his head slightly and laughed softly along with him.

Perhaps the essence of life is drama, or perhaps it’s even more dramatic than theater. This boy really did pass the postgraduate exam for the university, only he didn’t choose Lu Wenyuan’s major.

The next time Lu Wenyuan heard news of this boy, it was through strange, bizarre rumors.

Rumors of an unclear, improper relationship between him and his advisor’s wife. After his advisor found out, he furiously canceled his paper grade and demanded he withdraw from the experiment team’s project, swearing he would never acknowledge this student again.

Reunion with the boy came when the boy was lingering hesitantly outside his office door.

Lu Wenyuan smiled and invited him in. “Why do you always hide outside and secretly watch me? Do I have flowers on my face?”

The boy gave Lu Wenyuan an expensive wool sweater and said calmly, “Professor Lu, I have to leave. Thank you for the courage you’ve given me during this time. You are a good teacher.”

Lu Wenyuan didn’t outright refuse the gift. He said, “Such a nice piece of clothing. Your father would be happier than I am to receive it. When you come back to visit me at school after you start working, it won’t be too late to give me a gift then.”

But it was too late.

That very night, the boy jumped from the eighteenth-floor dormitory building, landing on his head. The blood, thick and sticky, congealed on the ground, a pungent, fishy smell assaulting the senses.

The ambulance arrived quickly. Death was declared on the spot. After the police took photos and inspected the area, staff came forward to remove the body.

A roar filled Lu Wenyuan’s ears. In an instant, all the sounds of the world faded and disappeared around him.

The ambulance kicked up fine black dust, its long siren wailing down the road, carrying away a young body. It slowed slightly through the narrow passage, as if for a final pause.

Then, in a flash, it sped out of his sight, leaving only dust swirling under the lights.

Lu Wenyuan was caught too off guard to have any reaction for a moment.

Because he was the last person the boy had seen alive, the police naturally had to start their investigation with him.

Lu Wenyuan actually couldn’t recall many of the small details. He didn’t even know why the boy had changed majors. He just vaguely remembered the boy standing in a patch of shadow untouched by sunlight, quietly watching him, his lips slightly moving as if saying something.

Lu Wenyuan couldn’t quite remember.

Until one night, a sudden roar erupted in his head, and those words echoed in his ears—weightless, light as air, yet incomparably clear.

He had said, “But Professor… I am a homosexual.”

Later, Lu Wenyuan attended the boy’s funeral. What kind of mood or scene that was, he never mentioned to anyone. It seemed like just a dream, a small interlude in his life, nothing much worth talking about.

Lu Wenyuan stood silently in an empty area of the crematorium.

That year, the crematorium had already been moved from Qingliang Mountain to the outskirts. Because it was so far from the city, not many people came to pay their respects.

Cold, white light fell on the ground, like the pale light of a show’s finale.

Flames flickered in the reflection of his thin glasses. Gray-black smoke drifted from a thin, brick-red chimney—plume after plume, particle after particle, floating into the pale cyan spring sky.

And then, everything was over.

Lu Qingyuan had kept this matter locked in his heart, yet somehow, Chen Annan still found out.

That day, Chen Annan sat on the edge of the bed, completely still and silent. Lu Qingyuan brought over a plate of cut fruit and held it out to him, but he didn’t even react.

“Chen Annan,” Lu Qingyuan called again.

Chen Annan blinked, his round eyes slowly focusing on his Brother’s face. Before, teachers always said his brain was attached below his neck while studying—head light, body heavy. Now he thought there was some truth to it.

His sensitivity was all hidden in his emotions, never in the twisted, convoluted math problems. Lu Wenyuan’s odd behavior couldn’t escape his eyes.

“Eat some fruit,” Lu Qingyuan said.

“No way. You cut this piece so big, it’s ugly. I don’t want to eat it.” Chen Annan had no appetite and was picking faults for no reason.

Lu Qingyuan crouched down. “That’s a bit much, Student Xiao Chen.”

Chen Annan huffed. “I already know everything. And you still tried to hide it from me.”

Lu Qingyuan put the fruit plate on the table and sat down beside him. “Well then, tell me what I was hiding. If you make a good point, I’ll apologize.”

“Uncle definitely has something going on. I told you last time, and you didn’t believe me. See, I was right!” Chen Annan slapped the bed angrily. “And you, Little Lu, you don’t even care properly about your own father. I was the one who noticed first! Look at you, really not acting like a proper son.”

Lu Qingyuan was amused, his mood actually lifting. “Are you seriously lecturing me now?”

Chen Annan kicked his slippers forward and climbed further onto the bed on his own. “What, can’t I say a few words anymore? So petty.”

Lu Qingyuan laughed despite himself. “Don’t be mad. Come here, let me hug you.”

Chen Annan froze.

Lu Qingyuan didn’t give him a chance to react. He directly bent over, scooped him up and lifted him bodily, making Chen Annan yelp in surprise.

“Yes, yes, yes, it’s my fault. Blame me for not noticing Dad had something on his mind sooner,” Lu Qingyuan said, pressing his back against Chen Annan’s, resting his chin on his crown as if drawing sustenance from him. “Ah, look at me, what a terrible son I am. Truly unbecoming.”

There was laughter in his eyes, invisible to Chen Annan.

His back was pressed tightly against his Brother’s chest. Brother’s embrace was too warm. Chen Annan’s heart pounded wildly. “Forget it, I don’t blame you. I overheard it myself. I heard Uncle talking on the phone with Auntie.”

Lu Qingyuan purposely drawled, “Oh~ I’m going to tell Dad you were eavesdropping on his calls.”

“That’s not the point!” Chen Annan emphasized. “Do you know what happened to Uncle?!”

“I don’t know,” Lu Qingyuan shook his head.

“He was taken to the police station! Someone at their school jumped off a building!”

“Good heavens, that’s really scary.”

“Right?! It scared me too. The police said he was the last person to see the deceased!”

“Really? Let’s just hope it has nothing to do with Dad…”

“Don’t worry, Uncle wouldn’t be a bad person. I believe in him.”

“Mm, I believe in him too.”

“Ah, no wonder I’ve been feeling uneasy lately. Talk about bad timing. I need to find time to go to Rooster Crow Temple and pray for a talisman.”

“Get one for me too then.”

“I won’t get one for you. People say sincerity makes the prayer work. Don’t just crowd in for fun. After I’ve explained your case to Guanyin Bodhisattva properly, then it’ll be your turn.”

“So I have to take a number?”

“Were you planning to cut in line?”

Lu Qingyuan was tickled into laughter. He held Chen Annan, the corners of his eyes and brows all carrying a faint smile.

The southern plum rain season had already passed. The drizzling rain had washed the dust from the moon, making the moonlight exceptionally clear and bright. It fell between them, thin, like a hazy gauze.

As the saying goes, fortune and misfortune lean upon each other; misfortune lurks within fortune—the patterns of this world are always unfathomable.

Before the family had a chance to settle down, something else happened, this time to Lu Qingyuan. Lu Wenyuan truly had no time to even catch his breath this time.

The call that came before the hospital’s was from the counselor.

Lu Wenyuan thought to himself, it must have been over a decade since he’d last heard a teacher say Lu Qingyuan had been in a fight at school. Last time was back in sixth grade, elementary school.

But this time was nothing like elementary school. The counselor told him Lu Qingyuan’s head had been smashed open and needed stitches, and he’d also suffered two broken ribs—fairly serious injuries.

Lu Wenyuan stumbled and staggered his way to Drum Tower Hospital. The sharp smell of disinfectant stung his nose—stifling, with a faint metallic tang. In his frantic rush, he nearly fell climbing the stairs.

His son, who had always been the most sensible and considerate, how could such a random disaster befall him? How could the heavens bear to make him suffer such hardships?

The operating room light stayed on for a long time. Outside, besides the counselor, several classmates and police officers were gathered. Listening to the jumbled accounts of what had happened, Lu Wenyuan felt his blood turn to ice, bit by bit.