Chapter 66
Thirty seconds of silence.
Even Jian Wenming, the spectator, was so startled that he dropped his treat stick.
“Why?” Song Shuci’s voice was soft.
“You’re so afraid of pain, you didn’t even dare to get your ears pierced with me, how could you…” He shook his head, as if unable to comprehend, “How could you take a knife for someone?”
Jian Wu lowered his eyes, looking at Song Shuci’s fingertips, wanting to touch him but hesitant. He took a deep breath and held Song Shuci’s hand, “It wasn’t like that.”
Song Shuci’s voice was slightly strained: “Then what was it like?”
Jian Wu avoided Song Shuci’s gaze, “The knife was small, just a utility knife, and I wasn’t seriously injured.”
“Not seriously injured?”
Song Shuci’s emotions suddenly surged, and he pulled his hand away from Jian Wu’s. He pressed his index finger against Jian Wu’s abdomen, pointing at different spots as he spoke.
“This is the liver.”
“This is the spleen.”
“This is… the abdominal aorta.”
“Did you even think, even if it was just a utility knife…” He choked, unable to continue, and after a few deep breaths, shouted: “How could you!?”
The cold finger on his abdomen made Jian Wu shiver. Song Shuci’s emotions triggered his own.
“I’m fine, aren’t I?” He also raised his voice slightly, “I don’t understand, why are you imagining things that didn’t happen? And he was my student, I was his teacher, were you expecting me to just watch another child bully him with a knife?”
“Fine? Teacher Jian,” Song Shuci closed his eyes and said, his tone mocking as he emphasized the word “Teacher,” “You’re truly noble.”
“Song Shuci, can you stop being sarcastic?” Jian Wu pushed him away, sat up, adjusted his clothes, stood up, and explained patiently, “I thought it was just a small fight between students, I didn’t expect him to actually stab me.”
“Am I being sarcastic?” Song Shuci also stood up and, seeing him about to leave, blurted out, “Jian Wu! You’re an adult, can you have some self-preservation instincts? Seeing a knife and not running away, even trying to reason with him, are you insane?”
“Who are you calling insane?”
Jian Wu angrily walked towards his bedroom, but Song Shuci followed him and pushed him onto his bed.
“Fuck!” Jian Wu instinctively cursed, “What are you doing?”
Song Shuci, pinning him down, continued to ask: “Who called 120?”
Jian Wu, seeing the blood seeping through the gauze on his finger, forgot his anger and reached out to touch him: “Your hand!”
Song Shuci, his eyes red, swatted his hand away: “Tell me!”
Jian Wu glared at him, silent for a moment, then turned his head away: “Me.”
Song Shuci asked again: “At the hospital… was there anyone else with you?”
“Yes… some staff from the school went.”
“Who signed the surgical consent form?”
“I did.”
“And during your recovery?”
“Also me.”
Although it wasn’t cold, Song Shuci’s teeth chattered slightly: “Why… even if you didn’t call me… why didn’t you call Auntie Jian?”
“Why would I call her? To make her worry?”
“Jian Wu,” Song Shuci’s voice was strained, each word filled with difficulty, “Did you even think, if you had died in the operating room, we wouldn’t even be able to see you one last time?”
“If I had really died in the operating room, what difference would it make whether you saw me or not? And I’m alive and well now, aren’t I?” Jian Wu said, “I admit I shouldn’t have hidden this from you, but I hid it precisely because I knew you would react like this. It’s unnecessary, Song Shuci, why are you worrying about things that didn’t happen?”
Song Shuci looked at him: “You’re so calm, so indifferent, then tell me, do you dare to tell your mother about this?”
Jian Wu looked away at the pattern on the bedsheet, silent.
“It’s fine, I’ll tell her,” Song Shuci stood up and reached for his phone, “I’ll tell her her precious son almost died in a foreign land!”
Jian Wu grabbed him: “Song Shuci, can you stop being crazy!?”
“Who’s the crazy one!?”
As he shouted, a tear rolled down his cheek.
Jian Wu, seeing the unexpected tear, froze.
Song Shuci’s anger seemed to be drained by this single tear, his voice softening, as fragile as a wisp of smoke, “Even if you had to help your student, why didn’t you contact us when you were in the hospital? Even if it was just… to let us take care of you. Did you even think about us? Did you ever think that there was someone who was thinking about you day and night, wondering when they could see you again?”
He was clearly trying to control himself, but his voice still trembled, filled with grievance.
Jian Wu couldn’t hold back anymore.
What was he doing?
He wiped his face, feeling guilty.
He had finally understood Song Shuci’s emotional baggage before coming back, vowing to communicate properly with him, to help him move on from that shadow, so why were they arguing again? Why was he adding new shadows?
What was he even doing?
Jian Wu’s mind was a mess, countless thoughts swirling, he didn’t know where to begin.
But Song Shuci didn’t give him time to think. Seeing him reach for his phone again, Jian Wu hurriedly snatched it, gripping it tightly, and said: “You really can’t tell my mom, she’s finally living a carefree life now, don’t scare her.”
Song Shuci glanced at the phone, then at him. His eyes were still red from the tears, but the emotions within were deep and complex, making it impossible for Jian Wu to discern his thoughts.
Jian Wu was silent for a moment, bit his lip, and finally chose the method he was used to for resolving conflicts in their relationship.
—He leaned forward and kissed Song Shuci’s lips.
He knew Song Shuci wouldn’t reject him.
This was how they used to solve their problems. Nothing couldn’t be masked by a night of passionate lovemaking.
Song Shuci’s breath hitched.
But if you looked closely, you could see it wasn’t from desire, but from anger.
Song Shuci looked at his face, feeling the tension he had been holding back since hearing Jian Wu’s words in the car finally snapping.
He had been suppressing his emotions for too long, forcing himself to appear to meet Jian Wu’s needs, to avoid triggering him.
The imagined loss triggered intense anxiety and insecurity, along with a strong possessiveness and desire for control. And these intense emotions reached their peak when Jian Wu tried to use their old methods to avoid and mask the issue.
It was always like this, the stronger the feeling of losing control, the stronger the desire for control.
He remembered that night in City A, his question, the young man who shared his “pleasure” that night, their seven years together, and the overly sweet cream on the cake on his birthday not long ago.
Jian Wu’s silence amplified his pain. He struggled between reason and emotion, then finally couldn’t help but bite Jian Wu’s lips as he kissed him. He held Jian Wu’s neck and forcefully invaded his mouth, until the taste of blood filled their mouths, until they were both out of breath, then he let go.
His eyes red, he watched Jian Wu cough and catch his breath, then look back at him.
“Jian Wu… after all these years, are you still using this method to solve our problems?” he asked, his voice almost pained.
Jian Wu looked at him, a trace of blood on his lips: “I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Then what did you mean?” Song Shuci asked.
Jian Wu didn’t answer him.
Jian Wu probably didn’t know how to answer him.
The emotions in Song Shuci’s eyes gradually cooled.
“Okay, fine.”
Song Shuci glanced at the date on his phone, tossed it aside, nodded, and, with a self-deprecating chuckle, resumed his cold and distant demeanor.
He took off his watch: “Today is September 30th, seven days until the National Day holiday.”
“For these seven days,” he lowered his head and bit Jian Wu’s collarbone, “You don’t have to get out of bed.”
