Chapter 7

"Birthday..." Yan Huai was stuck.

Had he ever given Shang Zhier a gift? How come he didn't even remember it? He couldn't find any trace of it in his memory. Or maybe the past ten years had made him forget a lot of things, both important and unimportant.

Shang Zhier spoke slowly, "During the second semester of my senior year, in winter, on my January birthday, you gave me this digital watch. I was so happy for a long time."

That year, apart from the gifts his family prepared for him on his birthday, the only people at school who gave him gifts were his deskmates Tao Ning and Yan Huai. Tao Ning gave him a fountain pen, and Yan Huai gave him a black and white digital watch.

The numbers on the dial were clearly visible back then, but now they are almost worn away.

Yan Huai searched hard in his mind, but found nothing: "Sorry... I don't remember."

"It's okay." Shang Zhier glanced at the time. "I'm going home. Good night."

"Good night." Yan Huai looked at his back as he left, feeling extremely guilty.

The things he casually gave away, Shang Zhier wore them for so many years as if they were treasures.

Yan Huai had a lot of pocket money when he was in high school, so his parents were worried that he didn't eat well and didn't have enough money to spend, so they sent him money every day. In addition, he was popular and remembered most people's birthdays. Occasionally, they would give him a small, reasonably priced gift on his birthday. By the time of his birthday, there were two tables full of gifts.

Speaking of birthdays, Yan Huai suddenly realized that he had even forgotten Shang Zhier's birthday.

He picked up his phone and searched online. 1.11, such a neat number? It was the end of November, just over a month away. He had to prepare well this time.

With such an uneasy feeling of guilt, Yan Huai washed up and got into bed.

Shang Zhier stood at the floor-to-ceiling window looking at the night view, feeling a little bitter.

Yan Huai no longer remembers it.

Smoke slowly trickled out of his mouth. Shang Zhier knew Yan Huai had always been like this. He'd never lacked friends, let alone people who liked him. Even more so after his debut. Shang Zhier thought, whether it was ten years ago or ten years from now, he was the only one who felt lonely.

When Shang Zhier learned that Yan Huai had entered the entertainment industry, he was almost in despair and even more jealous of those people. So many people knew that Yan Huai appreciated his beauty and listened to his moving voice. The muse, work of art, and secret love that originally belonged only to Shang Zhier became everyone's.

Fans can tell Yan Huai openly and honestly that they love and like him.

The feelings that Shang Zhier had no time to express were buried in high school.

In the crew, Yan Huai and He Xuan returned to the room again and continued the sex scene from yesterday.

According to the plot, He Xuan needs to be the active party this time. He holds Yan Huai's face, unable to speak for a long time, "Despair."

Lu Zheng's voice came through the intercom, roaring earth-shakingly: "What's so hard about you not being able to kiss him? If you really have to, just treat him like a woman! You have to get this scene done today! We have to finish it even if we shoot until the early morning!"

The two sat on the edge of the bed, confused and at a loss, and could not achieve the effect that Lu Zheng wanted.

There was only a stove burning in the room, but the fire was too small and the weather was too cold, so it was of no use. I had to take off my down jacket and put it on again naked, and I had done this many times.

Yan Huai was wearing a long white down jacket, and the fluff of the hat rubbed his cheek, making him feel a little itchy. He looked through the frozen glass window and saw Shang Zhier wearing a coat.

I’m wearing navy blue today. Why does Shang Zhier have so many coats?

The photographer came in and told them that the shooting was about to begin.

The two took off their down jackets and continued filming as soon as the word "start" was spoken.

In a trance, Yan Huai was distracted and he felt that the person who kissed him should be Shang Zhier.

Is it because of the desensitization test? That’s why I think of Shang Zhier at this time.

Yan Huai covered his eyes with the back of his hands. He heard a click and passed.

He Xuan also breathed a sigh of relief, put on his down jacket and walked out of the room.

Yan Huai was still lying in bed, thinking about Shang Zhier's various actions towards him.

"Put on your clothes," Shang Zhier threw his down jacket on him.

Yan Huai said slowly, "When did you come in?"

"It's been a while. They're worried that you haven't finished your performance yet, so they don't dare come in." Shang Zhier stared at his lips. "Let's go back to the hotel."

On the way back, Yan Huai was very confused and distracted. When he came to his senses, he was already in the room with Shang Zhier.

"Can we not kiss today?" Yan Huai turned on the air conditioner with the remote control. "Can we hug for a while? Just like friends."

"As in the friend type?" Shang Zhier repeated the word with interest. "Sure."

After getting his consent, Yan Huai reached out and hugged him.

A large, strong, warm embrace, a pleasant smell, and a steady heartbeat.

Yan Huai couldn't help but wonder, did Xiang Shui have the same thought when he hugged Zhao Yan?

Shang Zhier stroked his back, thinking, "Would you do a so-called desensitization test with your friends? Is this the boundary between you and your friends?" Or, Yan Huai, when will you look back at Shang Zhier?

"It's a bit hot." Yan Huai said in a low voice with his head down.

Shang Zhier smiled and said, "Because the air conditioner is on." He let go of her hand, sat on the sofa and wiped his glasses.

Yan Huai sat next to him, staring at the TV, and suddenly asked, "Does Zhao Yan really love Xiang Shui?"

"Of course," Shang Zhier said, "Even if they don't love each other now, they will love each other in the future. It's just that their feelings need time, and the ending is enough to prove it."

Yan Huai, however, began to doubt Zhao Yan's feelings. Knowing that Xiang Shui was a good student, he took him to skip classes and go to various places to play. Did he really love him?

He maintained the same posture even after Shang Zhier left.

The next day, filming began, and the film's scenes shifted from winter to summer.

Winter passes and summer comes.

Xiang Shui held the test paper in his hand, his face pale. He failed the mock exam.

His deskmate called him for a long time but he didn't respond. He turned around and looked at the paper: "That's not right, you fell asleep during the test?"

Xiang Shui hurriedly stuffed the test paper into his bag, but the way home was so difficult to walk. His feet felt like they were filled with lead, heavy and sinking.

The scene shifted to the doorstep of his home as he walked.

Xiang Shui took out the key and opened the door, but saw Xiang Zhang's leather shoes in the shoe cabinet.

He bent down to put his sneakers into the shoe cabinet, but he couldn't stop feeling nauseous and his body was shivering.

Xiang Shui nervously washed his hands in the bathroom and sat down at the dining table.

"Dad." Xiang Shui spoke.

"Well," Xiang Zhang glanced at him, "how much did you get in the first mock exam this time?"

Xiang Shuikuaizi paused, his eyes evasive: "I didn't do well in the exam."

Zheng Fang held out her hand to him: "How many points did you get if you didn't do well on the test? Let me see your paper."

Xiang Shui trembled as she pulled the test paper out of her bag and handed it over carefully. Zheng Fang sneered and slammed the paper on the table. "Is this all you got? Is this enough for me to get up early and work late every day to cook for you? Is this enough for the school district apartment we bought? If it weren't for you, who would squeeze into this small house?"

"For you, for you, and for you again"—that kind of talk suffocated Xiang Shui. He'd had enough. It was always like this. They were all doing it for his own good, not caring what he liked to eat, not caring if he had friends, not caring if he was bullied. They wanted him to live up to his parents and elders, but the grades they cared about were just something to brag about. Xiang Shui felt the one he felt most sorry for was himself.

Xiang Zhang suddenly stood up and pulled out the belt from around his waist.

Zheng Fang took the key and left home.

Meanwhile, Zhao Yan waited at the school gate for a long time but saw no one. He sent messages and called Xiang Shui, but received no response. Worried that something had happened to Xiang Shui, he rushed to his home without a care in the world.

"Is anyone there?" Zhao Yan knocked on the door.

After waiting for four or five minutes and no one opened the door, Zhao Yan took out a card, inserted it into the crack of the door, and swiped it twice to push the door open.

Zhao Yan stood at the entrance in a daze. There was a person tied to the beam.

It is towards the water.

His head was drooped and his eyes were closed.

"Towards the water...towards the water!" Zhao Yan shouted.

Xiang Shui opened his eyes tiredly: "You are calling my soul."

"You scared me to death," Zhao Yan brought a bench, stood on it, untied the rope, and carried him down.

Zhao Yan lowered his head and found that Xiang Shui's skin was covered with scars, which were caused by beatings. The cuts were bleeding and had stained his school uniform red. Even half of his face was swollen, painful and hot.

Xiang Shui just looked at him: "Take me away."

Zhao Yan carried him back home. Lying on the bed, Xiang Shui said, "They've been very strict with me since I was little. I had to get high scores and be number one. Even if I got first in the class, I wouldn't get praised because they'd ask why I wasn't number one in the grade. If I was number one in the grade, they'd ask why I wasn't number one in the city."

"If I didn't do well on the test, he'd beat me. He'd use charging cables, clothes hangers, belts, brooms..." Xiang Shui said slowly, "The whole building could hear my screams. Once, he even broke two brooms. Then he'd hit me with a piece of wood as thick as my thigh."

"I was beaten for being disobedient, for being picky about food, for leaving leftovers in my bowl, and for buying snacks," Xiang Shui said. "I never had snacks before. They didn't give me pocket money. Occasionally, when others bought spicy snacks or candies at the canteen, I envied them."

Zhao Yan wiped the tears from her face and said, "I'll give you whatever you want."

Xiang Shui smiled. "Some kids act like dogs for other people just to get snacks. I was one of those kids. I knelt on the ground every day in elementary school. If anyone gave me some food, I would let them ride on my back and crawl around the classroom. I had no sense of shame in elementary school, and I never did it again in junior high school."

“Crack!”

He Xuan sighed, "How pitiful! He has to pay such a price just for a snack. If I were in this movie, I would never let him do such a thing. I've never seen any parents treat their children like this."

Yan Huai thought for a moment and said, "There are many things in this world that we don't know about. It's not surprising that something like this happens."

"It's just that growing up like this is too suffocating," Yan Huai said, putting on his down jacket. "In psychology, Freud emphasized childhood experiences. The fate of neurotic patients is actually shaped in their childhood."

He Xuan said, "Many children who suffer long-term domestic violence from their parents will become weak or violent. Because they suffered domestic violence as children, their minds haven't transformed into adults. At heart, they're still the child who was beaten. But they couldn't resist then, but now they have the ability."

"It's a personal choice," Yan Huai said, "to choose to let go or remain trapped in childhood. But even if these kids call the police, it's almost useless. They'll say they just got hit a few times by an adult and they're calling the police. Who didn't get hit as a child? These words are enough to make a child feel hopeless."