Chapter 4 This matter is known only to heaven, earth, him, and Jiang Ran.
"Sir, sir? Are you alright?"
The flight attendant's voice carried a professional consideration as her gaze lingered on Su Mu's abnormally flushed face: "The flight has ended. I see you... are you feeling unwell? Do you need our help?"
"No...no need, thank you."
Su Mu was stunned, as if he had just been forcibly dragged back to reality from some distant dream.
He subconsciously raised his hand to touch his forehead, which was burning hot to the touch, and the skin on his neck and behind his ears was also extremely hot.
I think I have a fever.
Su Mu stumbled down the plane steps, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. His feet felt like they were walking on thick cotton, making him stumble and fall. Dragging his small carry-on suitcase, he mechanically followed the flow of people, his mind feeling heavy and sticky, like it was filled with overnight paste, working slowly.
Back in that old neighborhood, he didn't turn on the lights. He groped his way to throw the suitcase in the corner and collapsed onto the single bed, completely exhausted.
The bed frame creaked under the weight.
My phone vibrated a few times in my pocket.
Su Mu struggled to pull it out, squinting through his eyes, which were blurred by the intense heat. It was a WeChat message from Skinny Monkey.
Skinny Monkey: Bro, what happened to that huge bruise on your neck? It looks like you got beaten up. I was so busy chatting about other things that I forgot to ask you, was it some kind of poisonous mosquito bite? It looks pretty scary.
On the side of Su Mu's neck, near her collarbone, was an ambiguous bruise with slightly purplish edges, which stood out conspicuously against her fair skin.
Su Mu's mind went blank for a moment, and the heat seemed to rise even higher.
What kind of mosquito bites that have this shape and color? It's a hickey!
These were kiss marks left by Jiang Ran's careless sucking and biting.
Although he didn't have much sexual experience, he knew perfectly well that the sudden, fierce fever he was experiencing was inextricably linked to the almost out-of-control entanglement he had yesterday in Jiang Ran's luxurious yet cold apartment.
His body felt like a precision instrument protesting from overuse; every joint ached, especially the unspeakable, burning pain in his private parts, which was clearly visible even through his clothes, constantly reminding him of the absurdity and intensity of the previous night.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, the text message came from an unknown number.
The content was concise, yet it caused Su Mu's already flushed cheeks to heat up even more.
Unknown number: [Image]
These are photos of the outer packaging of several anti-inflammatory drugs.
Unknown number: Remember to buy it, don't force yourself.
Unknown number: Also, although there was no blood, I checked and it should swell up, so please be careful.
After reading those words, Su Mu was so shocked that he almost dropped his phone.
It's Jiang Ran.
Unknown number: Take a few days to calm down, and I'll come back to you.
Su Mu also added this new number to his blacklist.
He stared at the dusty ceiling light, and an untimely, somewhat absurd question popped into his head: Does Jiang Ran's house... run a business store?
How come there are always so many phone numbers that I can't use them all? It's like playing whack-a-mole; you block one, and a new one pops up.
The thought flashed through his mind, but was quickly overwhelmed by the exhaustion surging from deep within his body and the dizziness brought on by the high fever. Su Mu closed his eyes, a soft groan of discomfort escaping his throat, and curled himself even deeper into the not-so-soft bedding.
Su Mu no longer had the strength to go out.
He got out of bed, poured himself a glass of water, and rested his forehead against the cold metal door of the refrigerator for a while. He then placed an order on a food delivery app, paid for it, and dropped his phone onto the pillow.
Su Mu is usually not sick, and his health is quite good. He rarely catches a cold or fever.
This time, however, it was as if all the weakness that had been building up for a long time was suddenly unleashed, coming on fiercely.
The medicine finally arrived, the plastic bag rustling. Inside were fever reducers, pain relievers, and a small tube of anti-inflammatory ointment for external use.
After finally finishing tidying up, he lay back down on the bed. The effects of the medicine, combined with his physical exhaustion, made him feel drowsy, his consciousness floating between sleep and wakefulness.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, the screen of his phone, which was placed next to his pillow, suddenly lit up again, accompanied by a short message notification sound.
He struggled to open his eyes and reached for his phone. It was a new message, from another unknown number without a contact name.
The content is very short, just one sentence.
—I'm sorry, I think I used too much force yesterday.
Su Mu stared at the line of text for a good ten seconds. Then, a surge of anger welled up inside him.
How come he never noticed before that Jiang Ran... speaks in such a flirtatious way?
I swiped my finger across the screen, found the block option, and pressed it.
A thought suddenly popped into my head: Does Jiang Ran... like men?
But that's unlikely.
During her university years, Su Mu happened to witness a boy confessing his feelings to Jiang Ran.
Su Mu knew that boy; he was from the neighboring college and was very popular back then, the undisputed heartthrob of the department.
He's really good-looking, with broad shoulders, long legs, and well-defined features. He's especially eye-catching when he plays basketball; his smile is sunny with a touch of just the right amount of roguish charm—his charisma is simply amazing. Su Mu himself had been in the basketball club and had interacted with this campus heartthrob a few times. He had a good impression of him, finding him to be cheerful and a good basketball player.
That day, Jiang Ran came to wait for him.
Jiang Ran doesn't like playing basketball, finding it too physically demanding and causing him to sweat easily. He prefers tennis, a sport that emphasizes more skill.
After finishing training and changing his clothes, Su Mu didn't see Jiang Ran at their usual meeting place, so he followed the path behind the gymnasium. There was a small, secluded bamboo grove beside the path, rarely visited by anyone.
Then he saw it.
The most popular guy in the department stood with his back to him, ramrod straight, head slightly bowed, seemingly a little nervous. Jiang Ran, on the other hand, was facing him. The distance wasn't far, and Su Mu could clearly hear the guy's tense voice, as if he were saying something like, "I've been watching you for a long time," or "I think you're very special."
Jiang Ran listened without any expression.
After the most popular guy in the department finished speaking, there was a few seconds of silence in the air.
Then, Jiang Ran spoke, her tone a cool one that was somewhere between polite and distant.
“I’m sorry,” he said, without any hesitation or embarrassment, “I’m probably not the same kind of person as you…”
They're not the same type; isn't it just that she doesn't like men?
Before meeting Jiang Ran, Su Mu had never, or rather, never felt the need to, deeply consider the issue of his sexual orientation.
He had always been a well-behaved child. From childhood to adulthood, he studied diligently and achieved good grades, making him the kind of student that his parents and teachers found easy to manage.
The middle school I used to attend was considered a key school in our county. Naturally, there were some precocious or clever students in the class. When the boys got together, they would occasionally lower their voices and exchange knowing glances about the resources they had secretly obtained, which had pixelated or suggestive covers. During computer class, some of them would also take advantage of the teacher's inattention to quickly switch to certain web pages that they shouldn't be opening.
Su Mu had encountered it a few times, but he wasn't bothered by it. He just found it noisy and even a little boring.
Those deliberately displayed, straightforward, and crude sensory stimuli did not arouse his interest in the slightest.
Every day, he's thinking about which English grammar points he hasn't memorized yet, and how to raise his combined science score by ten points in the next mock exam.
His world was filled to the brim with exercise books, cut-off scores, and a vague but correct university major for the future, leaving no room for anything else.
Later, when he went to university, he had more free time, but out of habit, he still followed the rules.
When he was choosing his courses, he originally wanted to select a more relaxed sport, such as Tai Chi or yoga. However, the school's course selection system malfunctioned that day, and the network was very slow. By the time he finally managed to log in, the popular courses had already been taken.
After much deliberation, Su Mu finally settled on international standard dance. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, then reluctantly signed up.
He's not particularly coordinated, let alone dancing closely with a stranger; just thinking about it makes his scalp tingle.
He mentioned it to Jiang Ran as a joke.
To everyone's surprise, Jiang Ran didn't say anything after hearing this. Instead, she turned around and canceled the tennis class she had already chosen, and then promptly signed up for the same doubles dance class as Su Mu.
Popular courses like these are usually full, so Su Mu couldn't join, and Jiang Ran had to leave to keep him company.
When Skinny Monkey and Fatty Knife found out, they winked and teased him in an exaggerated tone: "Oh, is our young master Jiang channeling the domineering CEO? He's even giving up his beloved tennis for Little Wooden Head? He's going to spoil him rotten, isn't he?"
Jokes between straight men are always like this: unrestrained, risqué, and tinged with a rough intimacy.
But nobody takes it seriously.
And so, Jiang Ran became Su Mu's dance partner.
During class, they learn basic waltz and tango steps.
At first, Su Mu was very stiff, not knowing where to put his hands and feet, and kept stepping on Jiang Ran's feet.
Jiang Ran was very patient, guiding him through the basic steps again and again, showing him how to position his arms.
I don't know if it's because I've been in contact with Jiang Ran too much, but during class we would put our arms around each other's shoulders, support each other's waists, breathe similarly, and make eye contact. After class, sometimes we would practice a little longer in an empty dance studio or a corner of the multimedia hall in order to practice the movements.
To accommodate him, Jiang Ran volunteered to take on the female steps, which required more spinning and following techniques. Jiang Ran had excellent proportions, and her posture while dancing the female steps was surprisingly graceful and beautiful, without feeling awkward at all. Instead, it had a unique, pleasing, and neat feel to it.
Until one ordinary night.
Su Mu had a dream.
There were no specific plots or particularly clear scenes in the dream, only a strong, lingering sensory memory: Jiang Ran's lips, warm and real, pressed against his. The feeling was so real that his heart pounded like a drum in the dream, and when he woke up, his forehead was even covered in a thin layer of sweat.
He sat on the bed, stunned for a long time.
His heart was still beating irregularly, and the lingering warmth and throbbing from his dream washed over his usual perceptions like a tide.
There was no panic, no self-loathing, only a belated, slow-rising realization.
His sexual orientation might indeed... be a bit problematic.
It was near the end of the semester, and in order to complete the final assignment, each dance partner was required to record a complete dance video and submit it.
Su Mu and Jiang Ran danced a waltz, choosing a classic slow waltz. It was recorded on a tripod with their phones in the school's old multimedia hall, with its dark red wooden floors and worn-out curtains.
The lighting wasn't great, even a bit dim, and the phone's image quality was just average, but the resulting shot surprisingly had a hazy yet harmonious feel.
In the video, Su Mu is wearing a simple white shirt and black trousers, while Jiang Ran is wearing a dark gray shirt with the top button undone at the collar.
As the music flowed, Su Mu spun and glided under Jiang Ran's guidance. Although her movements weren't exactly professional or sophisticated, they were natural and fluid. The eye contact and body language between the two revealed a strange harmony in the slightly blurry image.
I don't know who it was, probably some lively classmate, but they casually uploaded this video to the school's internal social networking site with the title "Final dance assignment, these guys actually danced pretty well, huh?"
Normally, such posts would sink quickly, but perhaps it's because Jiang Ran is already somewhat well-known at school, comes from a wealthy family, has outstanding looks, and possesses a cool and unique temperament.
In addition, the two of them did cooperate quite well in the video, so the post was actually bumped up and got some clicks and replies.
When Su Mu saw it, there were already quite a few comments.
Most of the comments were positive, praising the dancers' good performance and excellent teamwork, but a few were mixed in with comments that had a slightly different tone.
Gender aside, the atmosphere is absolutely amazing...
To be honest, these two actually look quite good together.
A passerby said he was hooked (whispering).
Su Mu flipped through the entries one by one, and when he saw that they actually matched the words, he felt a subtle, slightly smug feeling.
He looked up and saw that Jiang Ran was also looking at her phone screen, her brows slightly furrowed. Her expression was neither angry nor happy. He leaned over and saw that she had also seen the post.
Su Mu: "How about... I send a private message to the person who posted it and ask them to delete the video?"
Upon hearing this, Jiang Ran turned to look at him and asked, "You don't mind?"
Su Mu: "It's alright, I think... it's quite funny, people online just love to stir up trouble."
Jiang Ran looked at him for a while, then looked back at her phone screen: "It's okay, don't worry about it."
The video was not deleted, but the topic did not escalate further.
But Su Mu couldn't help but wonder if Jiang Ran was this nice to everyone else? Could it be just because they were roommates, classmates, or close friends that she was being so polite?
But he seemed to treat Skinny Monkey and Fatty Knife, who were also good friends, as just ordinary buddies, playing games together, splitting the bill for meals, and occasionally bringing each other food. Jiang Ran never showed any extra or excessive consideration.
Thus, through repeated confirmation and self-doubt, Su Mu harbored a secret crush on Jiang Ran for several years.
At first, I felt somewhat inferior.
I consider myself ordinary. My grades aren't outstanding here, my family background is average, and my personality isn't particularly lively or interesting.
Later, I graduated and got a job.
The realities of society make many things that were ambiguous on campus exceptionally clear and sharp.
Jiang Ran's starting point is a platform that many people struggle their entire lives to reach.
As for Su Mu himself, he found a job that matched his major, working from nine to five, taking the subway, and working overtime until late at night in his cubicle for a project.
Their connection wasn't completely severed; they would occasionally meet for meals. However, their conversations gradually shifted from campus anecdotes and future aspirations to trivial troubles encountered at work or insignificant current events.
You'll see Jiang Ran mention a merger or acquisition deal, or which country she's going to on a business trip next week. The chasm between them, as they get older and their circumstances diverge, not only doesn't shrink, but gets deeper and wider.
Su Mu sometimes felt a belated, almost childish regret.
If I had known... if I had known I would fall this deep, I would have taken advantage of the time when we were still on campus, when our identities were still innocent, and when we were closest in physical distance, and struck first without thinking.
Even if I was rejected, even if we couldn't even be friends, at least... I tried, so I wouldn't be stuck in this predicament, hanging in mid-air, unable to move forward or backward.
Su Mu stayed at home for a whole day.
The next day, he went to the company. He had just sat down at his workstation and hadn't even had time to turn on his computer when his direct supervisor walked over, wearing shiny leather shoes and with a stern face.
The leader looked down at him, his brow furrowed: "Su Mu, what happened to you yesterday? You didn't reply to a single message I sent you! Are you even going to follow up on the project schedule? You've got some nerve, haven't you? Don't you want to work here anymore?"
A few colleagues around me glanced up briefly, then quickly looked down again, pretending to be busy.
Su Mu had experienced this kind of public, humiliating reprimand far too many times.
In the past, he would bow his head, apologize, and endure his discomfort, explaining that he might not have been paying attention to his phone or that he wasn't feeling well. Then he would take on more unreasonable work, listening to those empty and oppressive promises and sermons about young people needing to exercise more and that the company giving him a platform was a sign of respect.
But today is different.
That belated self-examination of his life made him unwilling to continue this draining process.
Su Mu raised his head and calmly met the leader's angry gaze. Before the other party could even finish speaking, he pulled out a letter that had been printed, signed, and neatly folded from the folder he carried with him.
The envelope was plain white, with the words "Resignation Letter" neatly written on it in black pen.
He placed the letter on the table and pushed it across with his fingertips.
“That’s right,” he said. “I’m quitting.”
Su Mu had really had enough.
I'm fed up with those options and futures that only exist in words, fed up with meaningless overtime and the blame that can be shifted onto me at any time, fed up with this suffocating feeling of being constantly denied, belittled, and exploited like cheap fuel.
If this continues, he suspects that he's not just having emotional problems, but his hormones are probably going to become completely out of balance.
The leader glared at him, his face turning from astonishment to ashen. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something to salvage the situation or make a threat, but in the end he only managed to stammer out, "You...you've thought this through? The job market isn't good right now!"
Su Mu didn't respond to that.
He stood up and began tidying up the few personal belongings on his desk: a thermos he had used for several years, a worn-out professional book, and a USB drive with some paint chips.
He felt that he was now truly outside the three-party loan system, and at least for this moment, he had the freedom to resign.
Leaving a job isn't as simple as it seems, nor is it as dramatic as one might imagine. Su Mu has been so worn out by this job that he has no energy left to get angry. He still has to go through the handover process. After the HR department talks to him, he'll be promoted to the next level.
After confirming that he was determined to leave, we then handed over the responsibilities to him.
Su Mu didn't go home immediately that day. Instead, he searched on his phone and found a restaurant that he had saved for a long time but had never been able to afford.
It's a well-regarded Japanese yakitori restaurant, hidden in a quiet alley.
He went inside and found a seat by the window.
We ordered a table full of chicken skewers that were grilled to a crispy golden brown and glistening with oil, tender and juicy taro, steaming hot ochazuke (rice with tea), and a small pot of sake.
Without considering the budget, I thoroughly enjoyed the food and celebrated voluntarily jumping out of that suffocating quagmire.
When he got home that evening, he received a video call from his parents. Two familiar and concerned faces appeared on the screen, and they exchanged a few pleasantries.
"Mumu, have you found a girlfriend lately?" Su's mother asked tentatively.
Su Mu held her phone: "...No, Mom, I'm not thinking about that right now."
Mom started nagging: "You can consider it, but you must let Mom know first, okay? You can't be like some young people these days, doing whatever you want. You can't... you can't have premarital sex, you know? You can't mess around with other people either."
His parents are surprisingly open-minded, unlike people from the countryside.
"Okay, okay, I'll be careful."
Unfortunately, your son has already done it.
It's not with any girlfriend.
Instead, it was with a man. A man named Jiang Ran.
However, this matter is known only to heaven, earth, him, and Jiang Ran.
No third person will ever know.
He was about to turn off the light and go to sleep when his phone screen suddenly lit up again. It was a text message from an unfamiliar number in Jiangzhou, offering some post-coital tips: avoid spicy food, eat a bland diet, and ask if Su Mu seemed to have neglected to clean up properly, and if he was sick.
Su Mu thought that Jiang Ran seemed to be constantly reviewing the situation.
How many accounts do you actually have?
send.
The reply came almost instantly, as if the other person had been staring at their phone the whole time.
—These are my secretary's numbers. Today, I had people I know go to the service center and get three new numbers for me.
Damn it, Su Mu thought, now quite a few people know!
A note from the author:
Future Child: I know that too.
Young Master Jiang: I seduced him so much in college, and he still thought we were good brothers. He was completely clueless. I should have just slept with him.
Little Wood: Sorry, I just ate something greasy.
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