Chapter 44: “It’s Normal to Be Attracted to Your Peers…”

The door panels in the old building were really not soundproof at all. Just how clearly Qin Ji’s footsteps and the sounds of him opening and closing cabinets could be heard was exactly how transparent the sound of Tong Xilin making or receiving a call was.

He gripped his phone and looked at it for a moment, then put in one earbud to answer. He just listened, without making a sound.

Kong Ji’s first words had nothing to do with Qin Ji. He asked Tong Xilin: “Have you eaten?”

Tong Xilin grunted “Mm.”

“Are you both at home?”

Tong Xilin grunted “Mm” again.

There was a brief silence on Kong Ji’s end. Tong Xilin’s phone screen lit up. He had sent a red envelope.

Unlike those usual transfer amounts, it was a small two-hundred-yuan red envelope.

“The weather’s been very hot on your side lately. Go out and buy a cold drink,” Kong Ji said, “or some fruit.”

Many times, understanding between people happens in a single flash of clear insight.

Tong Xilin didn’t accept the red envelope, but he didn’t refuse either. Wearing his earbud, he opened the door and went out. He just happened to meet Qin Ji’s gaze as he came out of the outer room, holding clothes, preparing to go shower.

“I’m going out to buy something,” he proactively told Qin Ji, his tone and attitude no different from usual. “Need me to bring anything back?”

“No,” Qin Ji replied very politely. “Thank you.”

Tong Xilin nodded and said “Okay.” Holding his phone, he went downstairs and exited the building. It wasn’t until he stepped into the residential compound’s path that he let out a shallow breath from his chest.

So strange.

Even if both he and Qin Ji pretended nothing had happened, that feeling of awkwardness still made it impossible not to feel stifled.

Hearing him sigh, Kong Ji in his earbud actually chuckled once.

“What are you laughing at?” Tong Xilin didn’t walk out of the compound. He slowly strolled along the path between the buildings and muttered softly.

“How did you end up discussing sexual orientation with your classmate?” Kong Ji finally spoke, lighting a cigarette unhurriedly. “What exactly did he say?”

The sky was on the border between twilight and full darkness. The streetlights were already flickering on. The road surface still carried the summer heat, with a dry smell of baked cement from the heat of the day.

An elderly woman leading her grandchild passed by. Tong Xilin changed direction and walked towards the small square in the compound.

“I don’t know how he suddenly brought it up either.” Tong Xilin recalled the conversation just now, unable to make sense of it. Starting from applying medicine for Qin Ji, he recounted the events of the evening.

He walked slowly, spoke slowly. Kong Ji didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask questions, just listened quietly.

Only when Tong Xilin’s voice fully trailed off did Kong Ji respond. His first sentence was: “Tong Xilin, I’m very glad you didn’t keep this worry bottled up inside.”

Tong Xilin’s footsteps halted. He sat down on a stone bench at the back of the small square, gazing distantly at the elderly people playing ping-pong and chatting with children in tow ahead.

“That’s progress,” Kong Ji continued to praise. “Well done.”

Hearing his childish way of complimenting, Tong Xilin felt his ears flush. He lowered his head to grind a small pebble under his foot.

Truthfully, he couldn’t quite explain his mindset in talking to Kong Ji about this. There was an element of probing, but more so, it was bewilderment and absurdity.

This wasn’t something he could discuss with others. He had already promised to keep Qin Ji’s secret.

“So, what are you feeling right now?” Kong Ji continued asking, exhaling a stream of smoke gently. “I remember you had a very good impression of this Qin Ji.”

Tong Xilin’s heart skipped a beat, feeling he detected a different nuance in Kong Ji’s words.

When he didn’t respond, Kong Ji spoke again: “So you’re interested in him too?”

This word “too” made Tong Xilin feel astonished.

When hearing Qin Ji’s words, Tong Xilin’s first reaction was shock, followed by intense awkwardness—awkward to the point where he didn’t even taste the watermelon, and when he returned to his room to space out, it was purely mental replay, repeated awkwardness.

Because Qin Ji’s angle was simply too bizarre.

If he was just revealing his own orientation, Tong Xilin would have felt he was trusting him even more as a friend, willing to share a secret.

If it were a confession—according to Tong Xilin’s understanding, a confession should be direct, declaring and expressing “I like you.”

But Qin Ji was neither.

He told Tong Xilin his orientation, but what he expressed next was “you should be interested in me,” using example after example of Tong Xilin’s kindness and respect towards him.

This mindset was truly arrogant, carrying a strange confidence that was deeply uncomfortable.

“Why did you say ‘too’?” Tong Xilin couldn’t help asking. “Him saying that—does it mean he’s interested in me?”

“Not everyone’s personality is the same as yours,” Kong Ji answered him. “His circumstances are poor. Sometimes, extreme self-consciousness can cause someone to confuse the boundary between kindness and affection. People like this habitually refuse to give. Even if they have feelings, they prefer to guide the other party into offering benefits and affection first, always leaving themselves room to back out.”

“It’s a manifestation of selfishness.”

Kong Ji’s words were too blunt. In just a few short sentences, he painted Qin Ji in a very unfavorable light.

Despite the awkwardness, Tong Xilin was still reluctant to think of Qin Ji that way. After all, Qin Ji had helped him with finding part-time work.

“Are gay people like that too?” he instinctively retorted.

“Gay people are still people,” Kong Ji laughed. “Especially men. I’ve seen too many.”

Among all those men he’d seen, the first one was Tong Yuzhi.

Tong Xilin fell silent, not knowing if Kong Ji’s words contained an allusion to Tong Yuzhi.

“That’s why I’m asking you,” Kong Ji returned to the previous topic, “What about you towards him? Any interest?”

Tong Xilin’s thoughts fermented in the silence. Following Kong Ji’s line of questioning, a scenario surfaced in his mind.

If he really did develop something with Qin Ji, what would it look like?

They say people are most easily attracted to two types: those completely different from themselves in all aspects, and their own kind.

For Tong Xilin, Kong Ji was undoubtedly the former, and Qin Ji was precisely the latter.

Tong Xilin indeed had a very good impression of Qin Ji. Not just his appearance and personality, but he could deeply empathize with all the carefulness and caution Qin Ji displayed due to his financial struggles.

Even thinking it through carefully, he could even understand what Kong Ji called Qin Ji’s “selfishness.”

Understanding the most vulnerable parts of each other’s dignity, sharing similar living habits and conditions—they’d probably be able to be more considerate of each other.

Moreover, they were even close in age. It definitely wouldn’t end up like the situation between him and Kong Ji—where the matters of a young heart were as transparent as a fragile sheet of thin paper in the eyes of a middle-aged man seasoned in the game of love, all emotions easily manipulated with casual finesse.

Yet he felt absolutely nothing for Qin Ji.

This wasn’t something he could fool himself about. Feelings either existed or they didn’t. Having them meant carrying pain without being able to fully let go—like with Kong Ji. And not having them was simply not having them.

Tong Xilin was lost in his own thoughts and didn’t speak. His silence, heard through Kong Ji’s ears, meant something else entirely.

“Tong Xilin.”

Kong Ji called his name again, his pronunciation and articulation this time very clear, carrying a touch of formality.

“Do you still remember what I said to you when I went to find you during the New Year?”

Tong Xilin, of course, remembered.

It was precisely because of that wasted plane ticket, because of what Kong Ji flew over to say to him, that his heart was thrown back into turmoil. He was both moved and unable to grasp the change in Kong Ji’s attitude.

“I said, at your age, you should go make friends, see more of the world, experience the life that belongs to you.”

Kong Ji’s pace was still slow, but every sentence was earnest.

“It’s normal to be attracted to your peers. If you want to try things out, I won’t stop you.”

“But I also said: use the standard of what I provide for you.”

Don’t compare to your former self. Use the standard of what I provide for you. Anything that can’t compare to what I can give you is subpar.

Kong Ji’s original words were vivid in his ears. Tong Xilin could recite every character from memory.

“Even when it comes to relationships, you deserve the best.”

Perhaps sensing Tong Xilin had been silent for too long, Kong Ji’s manner softened again. His voice, transmitted through the communication device, sounded fine and magnetic.

“Never settle, no matter what.”

“If you can have that kind of resolve with me, you should be able to have it with others too. Right?”

Someone who, facing their first crush and infatuation, could refuse to be a substitute—how could that person settle for a “confession” that couldn’t even be spoken openly and honestly?

Tong Xilin understood Kong Ji’s meaning. Of course, he wouldn’t recklessly go and “try things out” with Qin Ji.

But at the same time as understanding, his heart, which had been bouncing along with Kong Ji’s questions, now sank deeply.

Won’t stop you.

He really had become the perfect uncle.

Tong Xilin suddenly very much wanted to ask Kong Ji: If it were you twenty years ago—the seventeen-year-old spirited Kong Ji, the one who had no resistance to Tong Yuzhi—facing Tong Yuzhi, could you say the same thing?

The corner of his mouth twitched. The words had already risen to his throat, but he forcibly swallowed them down.

This question was meaningless.

Comparing to Tong Yuzhi was even more meaningless. What he needed to do now was keep moving forward, thoroughly shake off Tong Yuzhi’s shadow, and become a better version of himself first.

Slowly kicking aside the small pebble underfoot, Tong Xilin nodded and said, “Okay.”

“Want to come home?” Kong Ji changed the question. “There’s still a month of summer break left. Living together with just the two of you, it’s bound to be a bit awkward.”

“No, thanks.” Tong Xilin refused this suggestion. “I can handle it, Uncle.”

“Mm,” Kong Ji smiled. “I believe you.”

After hanging up the phone, Tong Xilin sat alone on the stone bench for a while longer.

The sky had completely darkened. The people playing ping-pong and chatting had gradually dispersed. In the shrubs behind him, insects chirped. Stretching his legs, he got up and walked towards the convenience store inside the compound. He randomly bought a tube of toothpaste and two bottles of water.

On the way back, Zhou Qi sent him a photo: a pair of hands clasped together.

The guy’s hand was clearly Zhou Qi’s own. The girl’s hand rested in his palm. Both looked quite nervous.

Zhou Qi: Damn.

Zhou Qi: Met up. So nervous I could die.

Tong Xilin had been so caught up in his own matters all day that he’d forgotten to check how Zhou Qi’s meetup was going. Seeing he was safe and sound now, he felt relieved.

He was sending a message back to Zhou Qi while unlocking the door to the old building. Qin Ji happened to be coming down from the second floor, holding a few clothes hangers.

Seeing that Tong Xilin had indeed returned with things he bought, Qin Ji proactively greeted him: “You’re back.”

Tong Xilin opened the bag and handed him a bottle of water.

Qin Ji took it and squeezed it with his head lowered. When he looked up at Tong Xilin again, his eyes carried undisguised embarrassment.

“What I said earlier this evening… just pretend I never said it,” he seemed uncharacteristically nervous and cautious. “When you were putting medicine on me, I just got carried away in the moment and…”

“People tend to be vulnerable when they’re hurt. It’s the same for everyone.” Tong Xilin interrupted him, smiling openly and generously. “We’re friends. I don’t have many friends, and I treasure them all. So when it comes to sharing secrets with me, you truly can be at ease.”

A sincere attitude is something you can’t fake.

Qin Ji quieted down. Looking at Tong Xilin, a smile gradually emerged on his face too.

“Right,” he raised the bottle of water in his hand. “Good friends.”