sugar

The bell for Friday evening study had just rang, its quivering fuzzy tangles rustling in the evening breeze when Li Huaizhou's fingertips, spinning his pen, suddenly paused. His gaze fell on the corner of his deskmate, Xie Mo, and even his breathing subconsciously slowed. Xie Mo was folding his workbooks, the silver pen clip between his fingers reflecting the cool glow of the classroom's overhead light. The matte, logo-less Swiss mechanical watch on his wrist exuded a refined elegance that stood out against the clamor of the surroundings. He rubbed the tip of his finger repeatedly on the question number of "The Last Big Question", and his fingernails turned light white. This small action was exactly the same as when he grabbed the back collar of Li Huaizhuo's school uniform on the rainy night last time: his knuckles were obviously tense, and the veins on the back of his hand were faintly visible, but he chose to use very light force, as if he was afraid of crushing the cheap cloth stained with rain. At that time, Li Huaizhuo's neck was against Xie Mo's palm, and he could feel the thin calluses on the other's fingertips, which were the result of years of playing the piano and holding custom pens. It was clearly different from the rough touch of his own palms caused by lifting heavy objects and wiping wine glasses.

On the corner of the table, a light pink paper package was folded flat, revealing the wrapper of half an orange-flavored hard candy. The orange-pink lines were interspersed with fine icing sugar. This was imported candy that Xie Mo brought from home. Li Huaizhou didn't recognize any of the foreign words on the packaging, but he remembered that when Xie Mo handed it to him, he pinched the edge of the candy wrapper with his fingertips, afraid to touch his hand, and the tip of his ear turned red. The color of the candy wrapper and the pink dot at the end of the pine branch that Xie Mo secretly embroidered on the left chest of his school uniform seemed to be copied from the same mold.

"Let's go." Li Huaizhou deliberately knocked his washed-out black shoulder bag against the edge of the table. The metal zipper made a slight sound, and the hangover candy in the side pocket of the bag rustled past. He had taken it from the "Neon" bar last night. The candy wrapper was wrinkled by the water stains at the bottom of the high-heeled glass, and the edge was stained with a light yellow mark of lemonade, like a faint scar.

Leaving the teaching building, the neon pink sign across the street shone brightly, its warm glow shimmering through the stagnant water, making one dizzy. Just as Li Huaizhou was about to step over the curb, he felt a light touch on the inside of his wrist—Xie Mo's fingertips, cool as Evian water fresh from a constant-temperature refrigerator, not a trace of moisture. Xie Mo stood in the shadow of the streetlight, his white shirt a custom-made Egyptian cotton. The collar was lifted by the wind, revealing a small section of his cold, pale collarbone, his lines as clean as finely carved jade. In his hand, he held an unopened box of glucose tablets, the cardboard edge slightly creased—this was the cheapest thing Xie Mo had ever bought at the school convenience store. The last time Li Huaizhou caught him standing in front of the shelf for a long time, his fingers repeatedly rubbing between the imported vitamin tablets and the three-and-a-half-dollar box of candy. Finally, he stuffed the glucose tablets into his canvas bag, where he kept it warm for half a class, even the edges softened by his body heat.

"I saw you in the cafeteria at noon, and you only took two mouthfuls of rice." Xie Mo's voice was colder than usual, like the coolness of the evening breeze, but his eyes were fixed on the mud spots on the toes of Li Huaizhou's shoes - they were brought from the back alley of "Neon", mixed with cigarette ashes, embedded in the lines of the soles, and compared with the spotless Italian handmade sneakers on Xie Mo's feet, they were like traces of two different worlds. When Li Huaizhou took the glucose tablet, his fingertips rubbed against Xie Mo's fingertips, and he found that the other party's nails were trimmed neatly and round, and the gaps between his nails were so clean that there was not a speck of dust - compared with his own nails that were always embedded with ink and could not be washed clean, one was like fine porcelain, and the other was like coarse pottery. He stuffed the box into his sweatshirt pocket, and his fingertips rubbed against the wrinkled hangover candy inside.

At 2:30 in the morning, the phone vibrated incessantly under the bar, the plastic shell poking Li Huaizhou's curled calf, and his old knee injury ached slightly - it was the bump from moving the wine crate last time, and now it still hurt when it touched anything hard. He answered a call from his friend Ji Jiancheng, and the other party's tongue-curling voice mixed with nightclub music: "Huaizhou... Your classmate has been standing at the door for a long time, clutching a thermos, his face as white as paper." The wine glass in Li Huaizhou's hand clattered against the cup holder, and the wine stains splattered on his sequined shirt like scattered stars, but he didn't bother to wipe it off - he could imagine what Xie Mo looked like: he must still be wearing that white shirt, and the thermos in his arms was imported from Germany. The last time he accidentally caught a glimpse of the logo on the bottom of the cup, Ji Jiancheng said it was worth half a month's salary. Xie Mo must have secretly sent his family driver away and drove the silver-gray Porsche here himself. When the car was parked at the school gate, it looked as low-key as an ordinary family car, but it was three times more expensive than the "Neon" boss's car. Xie Mo rarely drove it, saying it was "too conspicuous." Only at times like this would he quietly drive it out, worried that it would be unsafe for him to walk on the night road.

When he opened the door, Xie Mo was standing under the streetlight. A silver-gray car was parked beside him with the window slightly open. The wind blew the strands of hair on his forehead, revealing the red corners of his eyes - he must have been cold from standing in the wind for too long, but he didn't dare get in the car and wait, for fear that he wouldn't see anyone when he came out. Li Huaizhou was about to speak when his stomach suddenly churned. He squatted down, holding onto the door frame, his knuckles pressed against the cold glass door, and smelled the scent of Xie Mo drifting in the wind: it wasn't an expensive perfume, but the light scent of his home laundry detergent, mixed with the sweetness of orange candy - the same smell as the laundry detergent Xie Mo used when he helped him wash his school uniform last time. Only then did Li Huaizhou realize that Xie Mo even used imported laundry detergent to wash his clothes, but was willing to squat at the sink in the school bathroom, rubbing his ink-stained school uniform with his hands, and even rubbing the sweat stains on his collar repeatedly with soap.

"Get in the car first, it's windy." Xie Mo's footsteps were hurried, not as gentle as usual. When helping Li Huaizhou to walk into the car, Li Huaizhou subconsciously moved to the side - afraid that the perfume on his body would rub against Xie Mo's white shirt. When he was stuffed into the passenger seat, he glanced sideways and saw that the side pocket of Xie Mo's schoolbag was not closed tightly, and the light pink paper package was exposed. There was one orange candy missing - the candy wrapper was folded neatly, so Xie Mo must have eaten one while waiting for him, and he was afraid to wrinkle the candy wrapper. Li Huaizhou took out the hangover candy from his pocket and gently placed it on Xie Mo's leg.

Xie Mo didn't say anything. When he bent down to pick it up, his fingertips slowly smoothed the wrinkles of the candy wrapper, and even rubbed the lemon water mark on the edge with his fingertips, as if he was rubbing some treasure. He took out the thermos from his schoolbag. The lid was screwed on tightly. When he unscrewed it with his fingertips along the anti-slip grooves, hot air wrapped in the sweet aroma of honey wafted out, suppressing the smell of alcohol: "Drink a sip of hot water first, to warm your stomach." When Xie Mo handed the cup, his wrist was slightly tilted, afraid that the edge of the cup would touch his lips, and his fingertips were suspended in the air, not daring to touch the cup.

When Li Huaizhou took the cup, his fingertips touched Xie Mo's hand, which was as cool as an iced crystal glass, but much steadier than the last time at the sink - the last time Xie Mo helped him rub the ink stain on his school uniform, his hands were shaking slightly, afraid of damaging the fabric, and afraid of not being able to wash off the ink stain and embarrassing him. When Xie Mo started the car, Li Huaizhou leaned back in the chair and pretended to sleep, staring at the steering wheel out of the corner of his eye. The brand that couldn't be given up looked very expensive.

The car stopped downstairs of Li Huaizhou's rental house. Raindrops drifted down, as thin as sugar threads, leaving water marks on the car windows. He unbuckled his seat belt and was about to push the car door when Xie Mo suddenly called him, "Wait a minute." He bent down and took out a small off-white towel from the passenger storage compartment, holding a corner and handing it over - the towel was made of Egyptian long-staple cotton, and felt as soft as a cloud. It was embroidered with small pine branches, with crooked stitches, and at the end of the pine branches was an even smaller pink dot, as light as crushed sugar. Li Huaizhou recognized the towel. It was left behind by Xie Mo's mother when she came to the school to deliver something last time. It was originally embroidered with the Xie family crest, but Xie Mo secretly removed it, embroidered pine branches with silver thread, and embellished dots with pink thread. Even the corner of the towel was embroidered with a faint word "Zhou", and the stitching was so shallow that he was afraid of being seen - as if he was afraid of revealing the "identity" of the towel, and afraid that he would discover the cautiousness of the young master hidden under the ordinary appearance.

Li Huaizhou got out of the car clutching a towel, and watched the silver-gray car slowly drive away. The taillights of the car disappeared at the end of the alley like two red candies. When he went upstairs, he took out the candies in his pocket. The orange-flavored hangover candies and glucose tablets were stacked together, and rubbed them against the silver thread pine branches on the school uniform - this school uniform had been washed three times, the silver thread had not loosened, but the pink dots were as light as melted candies. The fabric still had the stitch marks of Xie Mo's embroidery pattern. It felt rough, but more precious than all other clothes. He spread the towel next to the pillow, smelled the faint scent of soap, and suddenly felt that the wind at three o'clock in the morning was not so cold

The next morning during self-study, Li Huaizhou placed the heated milk on the corner of Xie Mo's desk. The cup was a cheap paper cup from a convenience store, but it was wiped clean. There was a sticky note on the wall of the cup, with a crooked orange candy drawn on the tin foil from the glucose tablet box.