Chapter 46

“…That’s just unreasonable, isn’t it? Those are two different things, okay? You call me ‘Bro,’ and I ask how you’re feeling, and suddenly I’m the one who’s uncomfortable and unreasonable?” Jiang Chu really hadn’t expected Qin Zui to frame his “unreasonableness” from this angle.

More than that, he hadn’t expected that in Qin Zui’s eyes, he was the one feeling “uncomfortable.”

Was he uncomfortable?

Jiang Chu did a bit of soul-searching.

Wasn’t this just… showing concern?

Or was he overdoing the concern? Did it look to Qin Zui like he was uncomfortable?

What kind of uncomfortable?

Before he could sort it out, they reached the bottom of the escalator. Qin Zui glanced at him, didn’t say another word, and just walked on ahead.

Jiang Chu frowned, following behind him, staring at the back of Qin Zui’s head with a mix of bewilderment and disbelief.

He wasn’t exactly slow with words, but whenever he was facing Qin Zui, he always managed to get caught in that trap of “either saying nothing at all, or saying something that just kills you.”

And every time Qin Zui dropped one of those sudden, blunt questions on him, no matter what he said or how he said it, the moment he looked at Qin Zui, he’d get this strange feeling that “maybe he’s not entirely wrong.”

After all, usually, Qin Zui was right there with him wherever he went, someone he could turn his head and see. Today, he’d looked back several times, only to find empty air, and honestly, it felt pretty strange.

Chatting with Old Du earlier, thinking about a future where Qin Zui would fly the coop without even a backward glance… yeah, that made him pretty uncomfortable too.

Back in the hotel room, Qin Zui finally spoke to him again. “Did you take your medicine at noon?”

“No.” Jiang Chu wasn’t very diligent about that sort of thing. He only ever took medicine when he remembered, anyway. A cold, for him, was something you just had to tough out.

Qin Zui filled the electric kettle with water, then tore open two packets of Ganmaoling and poured them into a cup.

Jiang Chu curled up on the sofa, watching him bustle around. He felt like he should say something, but couldn’t figure out how to start.

Explaining to his own little brother that he wasn’t uncomfortable just because he was hanging out with friends? That was way too weird.

It felt like… coaxing a girlfriend.

The word “girlfriend” popped into his head, and Jiang Chu’s train of thought completely derailed. It took a while before the whistle of the boiling water brought him back.

Then, thinking about the tone Qin Zui had used with him just now, and the look in his eyes, a vague suspicion surfaced in Jiang Chu’s mind.

Was Qin Zui…

It was too vague. So vague that before the thought could fully form, he instinctively dismissed it.

While he was still floundering, Qin Zui had already swirled the cup to dissolve the Ganmaoling and handed it over.

“Thanks.” Jiang Chu took it and set it on the coffee table to cool.

Seeing Qin Zui turn around like he was about to wander off somewhere, Jiang Chu called out again, “Qin Zui.”

“Yeah?” Qin Zui turned back.

Jiang Chu stared at him for a moment. He seemed the same as usual.

“Nothing,” Jiang Chu rubbed his forehead, “just seeing if you’re still unhappy.”

Qin Zui suddenly felt a strong urge to sigh.

He shouldn’t have said those things on the escalator. Jiang Chu had been silent the whole way back, and Qin Zui himself felt a bit adrift.

He knew he shouldn’t have said it.

Feelings and emotions are impossible to control once they arise, but people can choose to control them. They have the capacity to do so.

It’s like how he couldn’t just command his brain to suddenly develop feelings for someone he didn’t care about. And he couldn’t just instantly shut off his longing for Jiang Chu just because he knew it was wrong.

As Jiang Chu himself had said, he should exercise some control.

Even though he’d failed to control himself a few times, whenever his head cleared, he always knew Jiang Chu was right.

Qin Zui hadn’t been physically by Jiang Chu’s side today, but his attention had been glued to him the whole time.

He watched Jiang Chu laugh and joke with his old friends, and could almost see his smooth, successful future ahead. No worries about food or money or work. He’d find the right person to marry and settle down. This group of friends was the kind you’d still be bringing your wives and kids out to hang out with ten years down the line.

Jiang Chu’s life was good, just as good as he was. The people around him were all excellent too.

But Qin Zui had absolutely no idea what he himself wanted, or what he wanted to do.

Jiang Chu wasn’t petty about small things, and he was very tolerant of Qin Zui’s occasional lapses in control. But that didn’t give Qin Zui the right to do whatever he pleased.

Like yesterday, when Jiang Chu saw through his intentions and swished the curtain shut. Looking back on it now, it felt like a slap in the face.

Was he really going to take advantage of the fact that Jiang Chu wouldn’t kick him out, and just keep trying to mooch off him and act like a punk?

Was that all he wanted?

To get a cheap thrill before leaving Jiang Chu’s life for good, so he could only ever be a “little brother,” watching Jiang Chu get married and have kids, and nothing more?

Qin Zui didn’t want that.

But right now, he couldn’t think of any other way.

He couldn’t imagine what could possibly develop between him and Jiang Chu. He couldn’t think of anything to say to Jiang Chu. He knew Jiang Chu would just think he was a kid having a weird episode.

Whether Qin Shuman had done it on purpose or not, she’d placed him back in the second year of high school. Qin Zui hadn’t cared much about repeating a year at first, but today it just made him feel restless and irritable.

The Gaokao. University. A job. Money.

He was still so far away from true independence.

He wanted to become as good as Jiang Chu. No, wait, he wanted to become better than Jiang Chu. Someone who could take care of Jiang Chu the way Jiang Chu took care of him now, someone who could return the favor, not just be a burden.

He just had a long way to go.

He shouldn’t let Jiang Chu catch on to his stupid, restless feelings now, making him wary and annoyed.

He had to grow up first.

Grow up until he had the right to calmly envision the future. The right to calmly voice his desires, instead of just being a reckless idiot.

“I really am not unhappy.” Qin Zui let out a soft sigh through his nose and sat down next to Jiang Chu.

“If you’re not unhappy, you’ve definitely got something else going on. You’ve been off all day.” Jiang Chu propped his arm on the back of the sofa and rested his head on his hand, looking at him. “Spill?”

“I already told you,” Qin Zui glanced at the bamboo curtain on the bathroom wall, and decided to pull that thread back up, half-jokingly. “To keep myself from getting into too much mischief.”

The instant he heard that answer, Jiang Chu felt like there was no saving either of them.

He felt it was hopeless that Qin Zui had to physically distance himself from him to keep his thoughts in line. And he also felt it was hopeless that he himself felt… relieved.

“Really, just for that?” He pointed at the bamboo screen, staring at Qin Zui.

Qin Zui didn’t argue. Seeing Jiang Chu’s reaction was kind of funny, so he just lowered his eyes and curved the corner of his mouth.

“You really are…” Jiang Chu stumbled over his words for a moment, then turned away and chugged the Ganmaoling in one go. “Un-fucking-believable.”

A moment later, he looked at Qin Zui with a complicated expression and asked again, “Be honest with me. Are you…”

Are you only like this with me? Or would you think crooked thoughts no matter who you lived with?

Is it just pure teenage hormones driving your reactions to me, or is there something more… some emotion…?

The questions stuck in his throat for a long time, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them out loud.

This is way too awkward, how am I supposed to ask this?!

Jiang Chu’s logic for thinking about these things was still based on male-female relationships. He tried putting himself in Qin Zui’s shoes. If a girl cornered him asking about something as stupid as whether he had an impulse towards her, that would be so unnecessary. It would be the kind of thing that could give someone ideas even if they didn’t have any.

And from that perspective, Qin Zui didn’t seem so abnormal either.

If he were living with a girl, and the bathroom had a frosted glass wall, regardless of whether he liked her or not, his mind would wander a bit.

Jiang Chu stopped mid-sentence, but Qin Zui could still guess what he wanted to ask from his hesitant tone. His heart involuntarily gave a little thump.

“What am I?” He locked his eyes on Jiang Chu.

“Do you have an addiction or something?” Jiang Chu deflected. “Like, a sex addiction?”

Now it was Qin Zui’s turn to be speechless. He was stunned for a second before awkwardly asking, “Is that any way for an older brother to talk?”

“Now you’re calling me your older brother.” Jiang Chu let out a dry laugh. This whole evening’s conversation was just plain bizarre. He turned his head, sneezed, and then, his voice all stuffy, delivered his conclusion: “Forget it. Once you actually get yourself a… friend… in the future, you’ll be normal.”

“I guess,” Qin Zui replied.

Jiang Chu turned his head to look at him back.

So… he does want a relationship?

“And until then?” Before Jiang Chu could look away, Qin Zui added, his eyes lifting.

“Until then what?” Jiang Chu met his gaze for two seconds, then managed to get a kick in. “Until then, you suck it up! I said suck it up!”

Qin Zui smiled. He actually really enjoyed these private conversations with Jiang Chu.

They felt honest, without exposing his real feelings too much, and at the same time, they sparked a whole lot of… imagination.

“When was your last relationship?” he asked Jiang Chu.

“About two years ago now.” Jiang Chu fished out his cigarette pack and bit down on one.

“How long did it last?” Qin Zui pressed on.

“Little over a year, I guess,” Jiang Chu thought about it. “A year and a half.”

“You remember pretty clearly,” Qin Zui observed.

“It was only a year and a half, if I couldn’t even remember that, would my brain even be working?” Jiang Chu wondered what exactly he was supposed to be so moved about from that comment.

“Did you break up with her?” It was a question Qin Zui was genuinely curious about. From his perspective, there shouldn’t be any reason to break up with someone while dating Jiang Chu.

“No.” Jiang Chu shook his head.

A flicker of surprise showed in Qin Zui’s eyes.

Jiang Chu thought back to his relationship history. There really wasn’t much to say.

All done by the book, all standard procedure.

They felt a mutual connection, so they got together. Then, later, the other girl probably felt he wasn’t that into it, so they broke up.

Every single one was pretty much the same.

“You don’t seem the type,” Qin Zui said.

“The type for what?” Jiang Chu asked.

“The type who doesn’t know how to be in a relationship,” Qin Zui said.

He could imagine how Jiang Chu would act with a girlfriend. He’d be thoughtful and meticulous, considerate about everything. He could joke and laugh, and mainly, he was good-looking enough to bring anywhere and not feel embarrassed.

“That’s how I used to rate myself too.” Jiang Chu laughed. “I did the holidays, I bought the gifts. Didn’t really fall short anywhere. Maybe it’s just…”

“No passion?” Qin Zui interrupted.

Jiang Chu’s first instinct was to smack him, but seeing the serious expression on Qin Zui’s face, he realized his mind had just gone to the gutter.

“Where am I supposed to get all that passion? It’s not a movie.” He tapped his ashes. He didn’t really want to talk about this stuff. It was meaningless. “If it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t fit. There’s no spark. If there is a spark, you can have passion even if you’re doing nothing.”

“Oh.” Qin Zui’s gaze drifted down from Jiang Chu’s face ever so slightly. “Then, in the past two years… have you found any sparks?”