Chapter 9

You want to find the answer and escape from that bizarre dream.

But when you sit in front of that small-screen, clunky desktop computer, you seem to have an epiphany. You hesitate for a long time without pressing the mouse, as if you are holding a Pandora's box, and nothing will change until it is opened.

But you are not a gullible or indecisive person.

Like a simple quadratic function equation, the equation has only one real root, which is not equivalent to the number in parentheses. The former is a necessary but not sufficient condition for the latter. You need to prove it reasonably and finally circle the answer as yes or no.

The male classmate watched you sitting in front of the computer, looking at the screen with you, his expression changing from calm to puzzled, then to speechless.

You turn your head, and the two of you look into each other's eyes, creating an awkward atmosphere.

Holding the copied book title, you hesitated for a moment, but still thanked him.

The male classmate pulled out a few books from the bookshelf and handed them to you: "I have Freud's 'The Interpretation of Dreams' and 'The Ego and the Id.' I can also lend you Li Yinhe's 'Homosexual Subculture' after I've finished reading it. In addition, I can also help you borrow those relatively academic books that you searched for."

You take the books he hands you; each one has creases from being turned over. The male classmate leans against the bookshelf with one hand in his pocket, looking at you with a gentle gaze.

You looked down and touched the cover, then said earnestly, "Thank you. Um, I apologize for my behavior that day."

The male student smiled and said, "Is it an apology for the behavior, not for the reaction?"

You understand what he means. The male classmate is also a top student and the first debater on your high school debate team. He is good at grasping the key points. You are facing him and unconsciously start to argue: "Yes, at present, I am not gay and do not know about it, so it is normal for me to avoid you, but those behaviors are not good."

"Now I know that your behavior is not an isolated case, that you are normal, and that I need to verify this with myself."

“Normal…” The male student’s eyes flickered. He lowered his head to hide his expression and said after a while.

"Actually, I thought you would be hysterical. It took me a long time to accept myself, but seeing how professional you are, I feel like I'm a bit superfluous."

The male student paused for a moment: "Xiaofei, you don't need to tell anyone about this. Don't discuss it with anyone except me."

"Why?"

"Is it because of the terms I saw when I searched?"

You asked two questions in a row, which is why you gave up on learning about homosexuality online. Apart from the initial popular science, most of the entries on the later pages are related to "mental illness," "health," and "cure for homosexuality." As a student who knows nothing and has no way to learn about it, you can't understand it and will instead be misled by public opinion.

The male student smiled slightly: "Yes, this is your own secret, you must keep it safe."

"Don't tell even your closest relatives, including your parents. You need to wait until you are completely calmed down."

You nodded. His expression was very serious, and it seemed that he had always done so. You vaguely sensed a secret weight pressing down on your shoulders, heavy and unsettling.

...

Go back and read all the books your male classmate lent you.

After we got back, I couldn't help but secretly talk to him during the break between classes. Several of his classmates looked like they'd seen a ghost when they saw you two had made up. He laughed and put his arm around your shoulder.

The trees were lush and green, casting dappled shadows, and the Athletes' March was playing over the loudspeaker.

At sixteen, in your second year of high school, you're crammed with countless exams and knowledge points, leaving very little time for anxiety.

The classmates around you are laughing and joking, and he puts his arm around your shoulder and leads you forward without any hesitation.

You followed the flow of people, discussing libido theory and Li Yinhe with great interest. You told him that you knew who the boy in your dream was. The male classmate said, "Is it the boy who was waiting for you at the door?"

You didn't answer him, and he understood without saying a word.

You keep the secret you both know, struggling and fearful, silent in your fear, suppressing your sexuality to the extreme, and not telling anyone.

The future fills you with apprehension, and you carefully conceal your differences. You are filled with anxiety, yet you forge ahead relentlessly, unaware of the obstacles ahead, and thus ignorant and fearless.

Time flies by, and the future rushes in.

You are moving up from the second year of high school to the third year.

Your male classmate was still sitting in front of you. You were fighting a sea of ​​questions every day, working hard for your future. Back then, it was from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., eating was like a battle, and you didn't go back to the dormitory for lunch break. You would just take a nap and then get up to continue doing test papers.

With very little time to rest each day, you have no time to spare and are fully committed to your studies.

By chance, you notice that the people around you seem to be talking about the student in front of you.

At first, it was just a vague rumor that didn't cause any waves. It was like a small thorn stuck in the flesh; it was uncomfortable, but not something to worry about too much.

Gradually, more and more people started talking. They imitated the actions and tone of voice of the person in front of them, and burst into laughter without warning when he turned around.

The student in front of you is engrossed in studying and is encouraging you to do more practice problems, but ignore them.

“Anyway, the college entrance exam is coming up soon,” he said.

But things escalated further, and the person sitting in front of you was intentionally or unintentionally ostracized and alienated. Occasionally, when you walked with him, you could hear someone spitting behind you.

Once, when handing out homework, the class monitor accidentally dropped the notebook of the student in front of you. The student looked up at the monitor, squatted down to pick it up, and you asked the monitor, "What are you doing? Why did you throw it? Couldn't you just pick it up properly?"

The class committee member paused, looking surprised by your outburst, and awkwardly said, "I'm worried about infectious diseases, is that okay?"

You frowned: "What illness? Explain yourself."

The class representative responded with an "oh," his tone dismissive: "AIDS."

Several people around burst into laughter.

You waved away the hand that was pulling you from the desk in front of you, stood up, stared at the class committee member for a while, and said, "Okay, since you say so, then come with me to find the homeroom teacher now and produce evidence to prove that what you said is true. If the homeroom teacher can't explain it clearly, then we'll go find the discipline teacher."

The class committee member's lips stiffened.

You look at the other students in your class and feel strange about what is happening, but your long experience in fighting bullying has taught you that you must never compromise.

The class committee member got angry at your gaze: "Fine, you're so great, everyone knows you're the teacher's darling."

“But Nanfei, let me tell you, so what if I discriminate against special groups? These kinds of people are either mentally ill or physically ill. I just don’t want to associate with them. If you want to find the teacher, fine, I’ll go find the teacher today and make him move out.”

He spat angrily, "Damn it, disgusting."

You were stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized what the problem was.

The student in front of you let go of your clothes, his tone very insistent: "Nanfei, the exam is coming up soon, don't go to the teacher, do the test first."

However, this matter could not be resolved peacefully.

It wasn't everyone, but a segment of the class, who started targeting the student in front of them, mocking, ridiculing, and behaving rudely.

The student sitting in front of me has been getting worse lately. Coupled with the immense pressure of the college entrance exam, his originally cheerful personality has turned gloomy. He is always silent for a long time before saying a few words.

You understand his pain, and it is because of this understanding that you feel constrained.

"Wait until the college entrance exam is over."

"Xiaofei, I can't let my parents know. They're scary. So don't talk to the teachers, don't pay attention to them, don't do anything. Just wait until you pass the exam, that's all."

...

But you never got to see it. The student in front of you suddenly disappeared for a period of time before the college entrance exam, without any warning.

You asked the teacher, and the teacher said that his parents handled the leave of absence.

You called him, contacted his QQ account, sent him emails, and even went to his house, but you couldn't find him. All your attempts ended in failure.

The last month before the college entrance examination.

Thirty days to go.

My deskmate disappeared for two months.

One morning, he, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly sent you a message.

Lin: [Southbound]

Lin: [I was once so close to my dream, but now I'll forever regret it.]

Lin: [I like you, my friend]

A day had passed when you replied to him. You were very excited about his appearance and sent him many messages, but they all went unanswered. His profile picture never lit up again. You planned to visit his house during your monthly holiday.

Two days later, you carried the test paper into the classroom and heard from a classmate who had just returned from sick leave that Lin Xuebing's wreaths were piled up from the corridor to the door, and his parents were crying their eyes out.

You took leave to verify it in person.

You see the newly erected tombstone, his name, and fresh soil still bearing traces of paper money; he should be lying in there.

You have confirmed the name, biography, and photo.

You feel bewildered and unable to breathe; death is too heavy a burden for you to bear.

Your best friend just died like that. You desperately want to ask why. You try to move your lips, but only a series of incomprehensible shrieks escape your lips. It's as if something has pierced your eyes. You feel the pain is extremely sharp and must be soothed with tears. You want to scream, but it's as if your mouth has been sealed shut with a branding iron, making it a terrible and helpless thing to do.

Why?

You went to see his parents, and you didn't understand why their eyes were red, yet they said, "Lin Xuebing's things? In the garbage dump, go find them if you want them."

[You don't want any of it?]

[I don't want it anymore]

You don't understand why your classmate is laughing.

Is Lin Xuebing's death something to laugh at for them?

"His tolerance is too low, it's just a few words."

"If he himself had no problems, why would it be him who died, and not someone else? He must be guilty."

"The world would be at peace without him."

"I hope his parents didn't get infected with AIDS. I heard that people in his neighborhood have a lot of complaints and want them to move."

Does he really have AIDS?

"Who knows? I'm just kidding. Maybe he really does have it."

"That kind of person is disgusting to be alive."

If there is a hell, then this must be hell.

You sit in your seat, unfold the exam paper, wondering why you can't understand the questions, why you can't read a single word. Your body is cracked from the pain, and you feel that you can't bear so many negative emotions.

Freud said that there are three selves in a person: the ego, the id, and the superego.

The ego, or social self, often dominates our thinking. The id is the instinctive self, and the superego is the spiritual self.

Your instinct tells you that if you can't bear it, then don't bear it.

So you stood up, walked over to the class representative, lifted your backpack, and dumped a bag of books over his head. The round book cut his eye, and he flew into a rage, swore, and started fighting with you.

You kick over their tables, tear up their books, and dump everything you can't take anymore. You can't just let it go like that.

The teacher called you all to the office and gave you a long and earnest talk.

You nodded and admitted your mistake with a good attitude. On the way back to the classroom, you whispered in the class committee member's ear, "I'm gay too. Are you scared?"

If pain is a needle in a net, are you willing to be trapped in that net with them, experiencing it repeatedly? If its very existence is a huge mistake, and you must tolerate the malice of others, you will reciprocate with the same malice, sparing no expense.

...

Countdown to the National College Entrance Examination (Gaokao)

[17 days]

You stand outside the office, and the Chinese teacher and your aunt say, "Nanfei's personality has changed a lot in the past few weeks. He hates several classmates. When one student accidentally knocked over his book, he threw all of those students' reference books into the toilet."

"He bumped into someone, and he turned around and started fighting with a broom, beating the other person until his head was bleeding. The other person's parents even came to the school."

The math teacher said, "His grades have always been very good, but today when I asked him to stand up and get his test paper, he actually said to two classmates on the podium, 'You did so badly on the test, it must be because you're too stupid. You might as well die, since you can't get into a good school anyway, no matter how hard you try.'"

"Those two students were already experiencing emotional ups and downs due to their unstable grades, and when they heard him say that, they broke down on the spot."

The Chinese teacher said, "He has been getting into arguments with his classmates a lot lately, and sometimes he deliberately swears at them. I've caught him doing it several times."

"To be honest, he has seriously affected the learning of several students in the class. I have talked to him several times, but he has refused to talk about it."

"I didn't want to talk about this, but now that things have come to this, I have to. Nanfei's roommates also have a lot of complaints about this kid..."

You hear the teacher's voice lower as she speaks to your aunt. Your aunt's voice suddenly rises, then falls again: "That's impossible, teacher, Nanfei..."

You stare idly at the camphor tree outside the teaching building. The lush green camphor tree has many leaves, and the sunlight casts dappled shadows.

A long time has passed.

As the teacher opened the door, she said to her aunt, "Anyway, I've already talked to Nanfei. He said he's been under too much pressure lately, and I can understand."

"Take him home and rest for a few days. I will call him every day to go over the test papers with him. Don't worry, I will make sure his grades don't fall behind."

Your aunt kept bowing to the teacher to express her gratitude. You, carrying your schoolbag, had no expression on your face. You simply nodded to the teacher and left the school with your aunt.

The dark clouds hanging over your head have not dissipated.

After returning home, my aunt seemed preoccupied. She would fall into deep thought halfway through shelling beans, and you can probably guess what the teacher said.

That day, your older brother and second brother came back from their holiday. They were overjoyed to see you and kept talking to you. Your aunt went in and out of the kitchen several times, and every time she saw them next to you, she couldn't help but frown.

"Lin Jiangjie, go buy me a bag of salt."

"There's not half a pack left."

As soon as my older brother got home, he went into the kitchen to check out tonight's dinner. My aunt said, "Just go when I tell you to."

The aunt kept trying to get her two older brothers away because she did such a poor job that you couldn't ignore it.

When you go to bed at night, your bedding is damp and you can't sleep because your cat peed on it.

The older brother said, "No problem, Nanfei, you can sleep with me."

The aunt slammed her apron down: "Lin Jiangjie!"

She glanced at you, then held back, her expression strange, as if she was holding her breath and couldn't exhale: "What nonsense are you talking about?"

It's too obvious.

It's so obvious.

So you smiled and said, "No need for that. It's just cat pee. I can go to sleep."

...

You suddenly realize that you are an ugly monster, and you try hard to disguise yourself as a human being, but in the end you are not; it is just your clumsy illusion.

You tell yourself not to worry, because the hurt has already solidified into a strong armor, and no amount of sharp thorns can help.

You fall asleep, wake up, and fall asleep again at night.

Qiu Li came to find you. You were taking a walk on the path when his motorcycle was parked in front of your house. Seeing you from afar, Qiu Li angrily kicked the motorcycle and ran towards you.

He was holding the helmet, looking furious: "How long are you going to hide from me? I texted you, you didn't reply; I called you, you didn't answer; and today you even delivered this to my house. Nanfei, are you out of your mind?"

He throws a wad of cash in front of you.

You glanced at it and said, "This is the money for my phone; I've saved enough."

Qiu Li asked incredulously, "What do you mean?"

You said, "It doesn't mean anything. Don't come looking for me again."

Qiu Li's eyes widened, she grabbed your collar, looking like she was about to devour you, her teeth grinding: "You son of a bitch..."

You are forced to close the distance, your breaths mingling with his.

As you look at him, from his eyes to the bridge of his nose, and then to his lips, you can't stop your heart from pounding. Your soul feels empty and sinking with each heartbeat. It's as if someone has punched you hard in the stomach, making you feel so uncomfortable that you want to curl up and hide.

You hear a faint voice struggling inside you, "Maybe I should just give up, it's really not necessary." You want to push him away and tell him I was just joking, "Can we be friends, forever and ever? Please promise me." But you can't.

So you said, "There's a secret I've never told you, Qiu Li. I'm gay. One night I dreamed about you. I like you, so we can't be friends."

Your presentation is straightforward and concise.

You see his expression gradually freeze. He releases his hand in astonishment, looks at you with suspicion, and finally almost flees in panic.

The heavy stone in your heart has finally fallen, shattering your heart. You stand under the shade of a tree, the afterglow of the moonlight lengthening your shadow.

That's settled then.

You looked at the moon.

That's good enough, no regrets.

Your aunt is getting more and more awkward. You rarely stay at home and spend most of your time wandering around the mountains before returning to school.

You follow the path you took as a child, climbing halfway up the mountain. The clouds and mist below are thick, and the lush greenery of midsummer is vibrant. The trees and flowers are thriving, radiating unparalleled vitality. You take a deep breath and squat down, wondering if you can find some mushrooms.

"Fly south!"

Upon hearing this voice, you stiffen. Qiu Li has climbed up here without you noticing. He is covered in sweat and panting heavily as he walks towards you. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks haggard.

"What are you doing?"

You're like a robot with a broken part.

Qiu Li leaned closer; he was so hot it made you uncomfortable. He sat down next to you, panting heavily.

"I know everything."

He slammed a stack of crumpled papers in front of you, straightened his back, and raised his voice fiercely: "I've done several of these questionnaires, but I don't think I'm gay."

You chuckled, a little confused by his train of thought: "What?"

He said to himself, "But it's okay, the internet says there's an even more direct way." He cupped your face and kissed you without warning. His lips were so hot that it felt like you were touching molten lava.

You are stiff all over and your mind is blank.

Qiu Li released your face, feeling immense pressure, and kissed you several more times.

You see his expression gradually become serious, as if he has made an extremely difficult decision, and he is actually very sad.

"I'm sorry, Fei, I'm not gay, so we can't date. But I'm your best friend, and that will never change no matter what happens."

He said,

"I've been researching a lot these past two days. Are you under a lot of pressure because you like me? You should have told me sooner, and I would have helped you solve it."

“I asked your aunt, and she said that something bad happened to you at school, but you didn’t tell me any of it. To be honest, I was very angry when I first found out, but then I thought that you probably had a lot of concerns, so I couldn’t get angry at you.”

“I called my uncle and asked him what to do in this situation.”

He took a deep breath, put his arm around your shoulder, and said earnestly what he had prepared beforehand: "It's okay, don't worry, you're normal. I'm very grateful for your affection. You can be your true self in front of me."

He looks you in the eyes: "That's all."

Long, long afterward, when you recall this scene, you'll find it funny, but also grateful. Grateful that you weren't armored because of pain, but because you were treated with sincerity and gentleness, told, "I appreciate your affection. You are normal. Please be your true self."

Author's Note: