elder brother?

Fang Chi got up very early the next morning. Seeing that Xing Jiayan was still asleep beside him, he did not wake him. He greeted Xing Jiayan's parents and then left.

That day after school, Fang Chi stayed in the library until closing time, as usual. By the time he returned to his rented apartment, it was completely dark. He turned on his computer, logged into his school email, and prepared to check the competition organizing committee's notification. Among a pile of unread emails, one titled "Annual Report on the Xing Jiayan Alumni Scholarship" caught his attention. The sender was his alma mater's alumni foundation.

Xing Jiayan?

It's not Xing Jiayan.

An unfamiliar name, yet carrying an undeniable connection. Fang Chi's heart skipped a beat. He recalled vague rumors he'd heard before, about Xing Jiayan supposedly having a deceased older brother, which he'd dismissed as mere speculation and hadn't investigated further. But this email…

As if possessed, he opened the email.

The email was very formal, an annual report for alumni and donors, detailing the distribution of the scholarship named "Xing Jiayan," testimonials from the recipients, and the foundation's future plans. At the end of the report, in the "Memorial" section, there was a black-and-white photograph and a brief biographical introduction.

The boy in the photo was about sixteen or seventeen years old, with handsome features, a bright smile, and a smart and warm light in his eyes. His facial features were six or seven parts similar to Xing Jiayan's, but softer and lacked Xing Jiayan's sharp sense of distance.

Fang Chi held his breath. He scrolled the mouse, looking at the text:

"Xing Jiayan, an outstanding graduate of our school in 2012, a gold medalist in the National Physics Olympiad, was admitted to the Physics Department of Jiangnan University without taking the entrance exam. During his time at university, he excelled in both character and academics, was optimistic and positive, and was deeply loved by teachers and students. Unfortunately, he passed away unexpectedly in the summer of 2012. To commemorate Jiayan, his parents established this scholarship to encourage students like him who love science and pursue their dreams..."

Fang Chi couldn't make out the words after that. His gaze was fixed on the four words "accidental death," and he could almost hear Xing's mother's sorrowful sigh at the door of the storage room that day: "...That child was exceptionally talented, good at everything, a role model for Jia Yan. After the accident, Jia Yan seemed like a different person..."

It turns out that those rumors were not unfounded.

It turns out that Xing Jiayan's maturity beyond his years, the occasional seriousness he exudes, and his almost obsessive pursuit of "excellence" are indeed backed by such a figure.

The shadow of an older brother who was so outstanding, yet died so young.

Fang Chi leaned back in his chair, feeling a cold numbness spread from his fingertips. Xing Jiayan… Jiayan, Jiayan. Such similar names, like echoes. He recalled Xing Jiayan's fierce dunks on the basketball court, his calm answers in the exam room, his precise criticisms in the seminar room—how much of this stemmed from himself, and how much was an unconscious pursuit of that unattainable figure?

The words that Xing Jiayan had once spoken in a joking tone, yet carried an undeniable force, echoed in his ears once more: "In this life, your name, Fang Chi, can only be written together with mine, Xing Jiayan."

At the time, he thought it was exclusiveness, recognition. But now, those words seemed to carry a different meaning. Was it also a declaration, a declaration to his brother, to fate, and even to Fang Chi—look, I can do it, I can stand here, I can have a name alongside you, I… am not anyone's substitute, nor am I an orphan living in the shadows.

And what about himself? What role does he play in Xing Jiayan's long, silent struggle to prove himself? A seemingly perfect, yet ultimately unmatched, opponent? Someone who allows Xing Jiayan to temporarily forget the shadows... a companion?

Those qualities that once seemed unique to him and drew him closer—Xing Jiayan's keenness, strength, and occasional displays of understanding—now seemed to be shrouded in a hazy glow under the name "Xing Jiayan," making it impossible for him to distinguish which ones belonged exclusively to Xing Jiayan and which ones came from that invisible template.

A mixture of shock and inexplicable loss weighed heavily on his heart.

He didn't have the courage to confront Xing Jiayan immediately. The discovery was too sudden and too heavy. He needed time to process it.

Over the next few days, Fang Chi became unusually silent. He still went to school on time and participated in discussions, but he always subconsciously avoided direct eye contact with Xing Jiayan. Xing Jiayan clearly noticed his abnormality, casting probing glances at him several times, and even stopping him directly after school one time.

"Fang Chi," Xing Jiayan frowned slightly, looking at his obviously uneasy face, "What's wrong with you these past few days?"

Fang Chi lowered his head, staring at the tips of his shoes, his fingers unconsciously gripping the straps of his backpack. "It's nothing," he said in a dry voice, "The competition questions were a bit difficult, I didn't sleep well."

The excuse was so flimsy that even he himself didn't believe it. Xing Jiayan didn't speak, but gave him a deep look, a gaze that seemed to pierce through his fragile facade and see the turbulent waves in his heart that had just been stirred up by the name "Xing Jiayan." But in the end, Xing Jiayan didn't ask anything, but simply stepped aside to let him pass.

"Get some rest," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Fang Chi left almost as if he were fleeing.

This continued until the weekend. They had planned to go to the city library together to look up information, but Fang Chi sent a message beforehand, claiming he wasn't feeling well and canceling. He locked himself in his room, staring blankly at Xing Jiayan's photo on the computer screen for a long time.

The doorbell rang in the evening.

Fang Chi didn't want to pay attention, but the doorbell kept ringing. Frustrated, he got up and looked through the peephole, seeing the tall figure outside the door—Xing Jiayan.

He was also carrying an insulated bag.

Fang stood frozen behind the door, unsure of what to do.

Xing Jiayan, standing outside the door, seemed certain that Fang Chi was there, and his voice came calmly: "Fang Chi, open the door. I know you're in there."

After a few seconds of silence, Fang Chi finally turned the lock on the door.

Xing Jiayan walked in, his expression normal, as if he had just come to deliver something. He glanced around the slightly messy room, his gaze lingering for a moment on the lit computer screen—on the screen was the open scholarship report and Xing Jiayan's photo.

Fang Chi's heart clenched. He wanted to rush over and turn off the screen, but it was too late.

Xing Jiayan's face paled almost imperceptibly for a moment, then returned to calm, and he even tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a very faint, almost self-deprecating smile.

"So that's why," he said softly, his tone unreadable. He placed the insulated bag on the table. "My mom made this soup and asked me to bring it to you. She said you haven't looked well lately."

Fang Chi stood rooted to the spot, his fingers icy cold, his throat tight. He looked at Xing Jiayan, at this man who always seemed so at ease in his presence, yet whose eyes now held an unfathomable depth. The question about the "substitute" choked him like a poisonous thorn, something he desperately needed to answer, yet feared that the answer he uttered would utterly destroy everything.

“Xing Jiayan,” he heard his own voice hoarse, trembling almost imperceptibly, “your brother… Xing Jiayan…”

Xing Jiayan turned around to face him, his gaze so calm it was unsettling. "Yes, my brother." He admitted it readily, without any intention of hiding anything. "He's very talented, isn't he? Everyone says so."

“So…” Fang Chi mustered his courage, raised his eyes, looked directly into those deep eyes, and asked the question that had tormented him for days, “All that you did—getting first place in the exam, winning awards, even… getting close to me—was it all to… prove that you’re no worse than him? Or, to live the life he’s supposed to be?”

He finally asked the question. Those words were like a rusty knife, cutting into himself, and perhaps also severing a facade that Xing Jiayan had carefully maintained.

Xing Jiayan stared at him silently for a long time. The afternoon light streamed through the window, casting interplay of light and shadow on his face. Fang Chi could almost hear his own heart pounding like a drum.

“Fang Chi,” Xing Jiayan finally spoke, his voice low and slow, each word as if carefully considered, “My brother is my brother, and I am me. His excellence is his, and my path is my own.”

He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Fang Chi could smell the clean scent of soap on him, mixed with a hint of the cool autumn air.

“That’s right. After he left, for a while, I lived like a fool trying to fill the void left by him. I studied physics, which he was good at, and tried to win the awards he might win, as if that would bring him back, or... make my parents less sad.” Xing Jiayan’s voice was very calm, as if she were telling someone else’s story, but beneath that calmness, Fang Chi could hear a deep-seated weariness and pain.

“But that was a long time ago.” Xing Jiayan’s gaze was fixed on Fang Chi, not allowing him to look away. “Fang Chi, do you think everything I did afterward was just to live in his shadow?”

"The first time I noticed you wasn't because your grades were neck and neck with mine, but because in physics class, you solved that problem that stumped the whole class using a 'detour' method that I had never thought of before, a method that was almost clumsy yet strangely effective. At that moment, I wondered, what exactly is in this person's head?"

“I met ‘Chaos’ online and was drawn to his core ideas, not because his thought process was like my brother’s—in fact, he and my brother are completely different. My brother is meticulous and orthodox, while he is… chaotic and unique.”

"When I'm injured, you'll silently open the window, 'accidentally' push a water glass closer, and make excuses to walk with me down a gentle slope. Is this careful concern because you think I'm imitating my brother, or because... you just want to do it?"

Xing Jiayan took another step closer, and Fang Chi could almost feel his warm breath brushing against his cheek as he spoke.

"Fang Chi, look at me." Xing Jiayan's voice was even lower, with an unprecedented, almost fragile seriousness. "Tell me, what you see now, is it the shadow of Xing Jiayan, or Xing Jiayan himself?"

Fang Chi was rendered speechless by his question. He looked into those eyes so close to his own, and saw his own panicked reflection clearly in them. Those things he thought were "imitations," those traits he attributed to the "shadow," seemed to be given new meaning under Xing Jiayan's candid words.

What he saw was Xing Jiayan. The Xing Jiayan who could be arrogantly provocative, yet also silently protective; who could shine brightly on the court, yet also discuss obscure theories with him late at night. The unique Xing Jiayan, who was both his adversary and strangely complementary to him.

His older brother, who died young, may have shaped a part of Xing Jiayan, making him mature earlier and burdening him with more responsibilities, but he was never Xing Jiayan's entirety, nor was he the reason for everything between them.

A surge of immense relief and a deeper sense of sorrow welled up within him, and his eyes involuntarily welled up with tears. He felt ashamed of his own dark speculations and heartbroken for the past that Xing Jiayan had carried alone.

"I..." Fang Chi opened his mouth, his voice choked with emotion.

He didn't finish speaking. Xing Jiayan suddenly raised his hand, his warm fingers gently stroking his cheek, wiping away a tear that he himself hadn't even noticed slipping down.

The touch felt like it carried a faint electric current, making Fang Chi shudder.

"Idiot." Xing Jiayan sighed softly, but the sigh no longer contained the usual teasing; instead, it was filled with an overwhelming tenderness and an almost resigned indulgence.

Then, before Fang Chi could react, Xing Jiayan lowered her head and kissed his lips.

The kiss came suddenly, yet without any aggression. It began as a gentle touch, tentative and with a precious, cautious tenderness. The moment their lips met, Fang Chi's mind went blank; all his thoughts, all his questions, all his chaotic emotions were shattered by this sudden intimacy.

He stood there stiffly, forgetting to breathe, forgetting to push away.

Xing Jiayan's lips were cool, yet unusually soft. He seemed to sense Fang Chi's stiffness, paused for a moment, then stepped back slightly, his forehead touching Fang Chi's, their noses meeting, their breaths mingling. His eyes were fixed on Fang Chi at such close range, his deep gaze surging with an intense emotion Fang Chi had never seen before, like a torrent finally bursting forth.

"Now, do you still think of yourself as someone's substitute?" Xing Jiayan's voice was deep and husky, with a magnetic quality that was filled with emotion, and his unique, unquestionable certainty. "Fang Chi, all I've ever wanted is you."

As soon as he finished speaking, he kissed her again.

This time, it wasn't just a fleeting encounter. His arms encircled Fang Chi's waist, pulling him closer into his embrace, his lips and tongue gently yet firmly parting his teeth, deepening the kiss.

Fang Chi finally snapped out of his shock, his cheeks flushed crimson, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of his chest. He should have pushed her away, he should have resisted, he should have… but he did nothing. His body reacted before his mind could process it; he closed his eyes, his fingers unconsciously clenching the fabric of Xing Jiayan's shirt, awkwardly and clumsily trying to respond to this long-overdue, yet seemingly destined kiss.

Outside the window, the autumn sunset is slowly sinking below the horizon, dyeing the sky a warm orange-red.

Inside the room, the two boys embraced tightly, confirming each other's existence in the most primal and direct way, dispelling all suspicion and shadows.

He is no one's shadow.

He is no substitute for anyone.

They are Xing Jiayan and Fang Chi.

That's all, but it's enough.