Li Ran had heard Qi Zhi mention it.
Their banquets were more like marriage markets.
Qi Zhi was an adult now; it was inevitable.
Rich or poor, everyone had woes. Li Ran said, “Not really short on money… just nothing to do.”
“Come travel with me.”
“I don’t have that much cash.”
“I said I’d cover expenses.”
Li Ran shook his head. “No thanks.” He advised, “Go with your friends.”
Qi Zhi’s brows furrowed. “Aren’t you my friend? You don’t see me as one?”
“No…” Afraid of hurting Qi Zhi, Li Ran explained hurriedly, “I mean, go with your other friends.”
“I’ve already planned with the others. Just you won’t join.” Qi Zhi turned away irritably. “You’re so dull every day, zero enthusiasm.”
Li Ran didn’t know either.
He felt down, like he’d messed up again.
He just wasn’t used to this… friendship that seemed to demand nothing in return.
Qi Zhi’s family was loaded—Li Ran knew that. He splurged on every girlfriend. Smart, sunny, generous, great personality—fans everywhere.
Only Li Ran always felt a barrier. But it wasn’t Qi Zhi’s fault; Li Ran was just boring and withdrawn.
…
Finals ended after two days, and the high school emptied for break.
Backpack slung over his shoulder, Li Ran headed straight to the affluent villas instead of home.
He’d eaten dinner here these past few days.
Chi Mo said before moving in, Li Ran had to familiarize himself with the house.
And treat it like home.
Cheng Ai Mei cooked personally, Ye Ze assisted, and sometimes Li Ran helped if he arrived early. In just days, he’d strangely started feeling a sense of belonging.
Today, he parked his mountain bike outside the garage when the Cullinan pulled in behind.
Chi Mo was back from work.
Li Ran stood by with his backpack, waiting.
The villa courtyard boasted a vast garden with many trees. Western sunset filtered through the branches, casting dreamy, flickering light spots.
Moments later, Chi Mo emerged and walked to Li Ran’s side. He brushed a half-yellow leaf from his shoulder, then casually took the backpack, slinging it over one arm.
The bag had some weight—thick textbooks and test papers inside, no doubt.
Homework piled up even on break.
Still, Chi Mo asked, “Summer homework?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm.” Chi Mo glanced down, noting Li Ran’s glum gait, same as the past couple days. Now that finals were done, no more waiting—he could press. “What’s up these two days?”
“Huh?” Li Ran scratched his cheek. “Nothing…”
“Why the long face?” Chi Mo smirked silently. “Who’re you thinking about?”
“Really nothing…” Li Ran defended softly. “It’s just… a few days ago, because of me, my classmate got upset. I’m thinking how to apologize.”
“Oh, buttering someone up.”
“Not buttering…”
“Your desk mate’s gay.”
“Huh?!” Li Ran gaped, eyes wide and round in shock.
Chi Mo stopped, bent down, leaned in—stopping at a safe distance, close enough to see the rare misty purple in his pupils quiver.
Adorably tempting to devour.
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Chi Mo said.
Li Ran took ages to recover.
His… desk mate… was gay…
Chi Mo straightened. “Still gonna coax him?”
“…No more coaxing.” Li Ran said, doubting his life choices as he followed closely behind Chi Mo, treating him like his only safe harbor.
The students officially entered summer vacation.
It was a good thing school was out, or Li Ran truly wouldn’t know how to face Qi Zhi.
It definitely wouldn’t feel as natural as before.
He wasn’t good at pretending anyway…
While diligently packing at his old home in the rundown neighborhood, Li Ran’s mind exploded with that one sentence from Chi Mo, buzzing nonstop. He didn’t even think deeply about how Chi Mo knew Qi Zhi’s sexual orientation, let alone question if it was true.
On his last night sleeping in the rental room’s bed, the bedsheets, quilt, and pillow had all been thoroughly sunned in the daytime light, warm and carrying a special dry, cozy scent.
Li Ran pulled the quilt up to his nose and sniffed the fading sunshine, reminiscing about the irretrievable past.
He lay still. Tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Before he turned twelve, this house had been full of noise. Bai Qingqing always quarreled with Li Ang. Only after being cursed until he lost all face, his manly pride shattered on the floor, would Li Ang flush red and plead, “Can you stop cursing? And right in front of the kid!”
It was less a retort and more a plea for mercy.
Pushing a man too far usually escalated things into a full-blown war. But Bai Qingqing only cursed up to that point. Once Li Ang actually fought back, she would breathe a sigh of relief in triumph, ending the battle.
It was as if, to her, Li Ang’s silence hurt more. She hated his indifferent attitude toward everything, his emotions so stable it was inhuman. Normal annoyance from others looked like a mental breakdown in front of him.
Bai Qingqing preferred to see him angry—piss him off until he exploded, that’s what made her happy.
A couple like that could never make it work.
Then the house was left with only Li Ran, no other voices.
Silence. Quiet. Darkness. Loneliness.
He got used to it.
Li Ran was accustomed.
The curtains were thin, blocking little light. Every morning, before the sun rose, the pale light from the horizon woke him.
For a while, his sleep quality suffered, and Li Ran considered buying two cloud-like blackout curtains to sleep in properly.
They were hyped online as 100% light-blocking. But expensive.
Nearly a hundred each, and Li Ran didn’t have that much on his phone, so he let it go.
Li Ang sent money every month, and Li Ran withdrew it from the bank each time. He never kept money on his phone.
At such a young age, his caution rivaled that of a stodgy old villager who’d never left the countryside.
Outside, the streetlights faintly pierced the thin curtains, the glow minimal and soft. Li Ran sat up and peeked out from a corner of the curtain.
He slept in the secondary bedroom, moderately sized with the bed against the window. When he couldn’t sleep, he’d sit cross-legged at the foot of the bed and watch the night scenes of the vast world.
Across the way, the wealthy district glittered. Li Ran zeroed in on Chi Mo’s house.
After watching for a bit, he lay back down and fell asleep.
Actually slept.
The next day, Li Ran didn’t go straight upstairs to find Auntie Wang. He ate breakfast at home, fished out a cooled egg from the small pot, went downstairs to feed the cats, then wandered around below.
He wanted to “bump into” Auntie Wang.
He didn’t want the move to seem too formal.
Auntie Wang was kind-hearted; he feared she’d blame herself if she learned he was leaving, feeling guilty.
After the last fight, Black Cat probably hadn’t scrapped again—his ear wound had healed, and he devoured the two yolks quickly.
His throat rumbled contentedly while eating.
The sound kept going.
It used to rumble too, but more like angry growls.
Different now.
Li Ran didn’t speak cat, but he could tell good vibes from bad. He could hear it in the cat’s tone too.
Before, Brother Black menaced him to guard his food. Now Brother Black trusted him, enjoying his meal right in front of him.
White Cat stood guard behind Black Cat.
After so long, she was familiar with Li Ran, but she wouldn’t eat on her own—she waited for Black Cat to carry it over for her.
Cat queen.
Li Ran stared at her belly.
Not big.
Would she give birth or not?
If not soon, summer would be over.
Did she even have kittens inside?
Or maybe not?
Was Black Impermanence impotent…?
Had he been neutered?
If neutered, good—no stray kittens.
All four yolks went into the cats’ bellies. Li Ran reluctantly tore his eyes from White Cat’s tummy, then gazed at Black Cat with faint sympathy and affection.
Last summer vacation, Li Ran worked as a cashier at the nearby supermarket, earning 1,600 a month.
If they were still hiring, he could go this year too. If not, he’d improvise.
Li Ran knew he wouldn’t idle—he’d find summer work—but he wasn’t anxious about the job itself. If available, great; if not, he’d search.
He wandered downstairs for half the day before finally spotting Auntie Wang and her husband returning from the supermarket with bags.
“Auntie Wang…”
Li Ran approached and softly explained he was leaving. Before he finished, Auntie Wang sighed heavily, saying her chat with those women that day was just idle gossip. Her son was coming back, but he didn’t have to live in this neighborhood—urging Li Ran not to overthink and stay comfortably.
Her words flowed like a barrage; Li Ran had no opening to interject, finally understanding how Li Ang felt under Bai Qingqing’s onslaught. He floundered, grabbing at his hair.
His hair had grown a bit long lately…
When Auntie Wang’s husband saw her talking herself dry and handed her a water bottle, Li Ran seized the chance: “I’ve already told Dad and Mom about moving out—it was planned before. This is just executing it. It’s not because of you or the other aunties’ chat…”
Li Ran wasn’t a liar, but on that last point, his gaze and tone were firm. Auntie Wang had to believe the kid wasn’t leaving because of her.
