Chapter 8: “But Lu Liu is indeed very gentle…”

Lin Zhi was a bit shocked. He knew that Lu Liu had a good character and often helped others, but he had never realized that Lu Liu also had this “hospitable” side, eagerly offering to take him home.

Wasn’t Lu Liu always indifferent to him?

When something seems out of the ordinary, there’s often a reason. Lin Zhi hesitated even more about accepting the ride home, though squeezing into a bus each time he went home was genuinely uncomfortable.

“Really, it’s fine…” Lin Zhi quickly grabbed his own suitcase. His eyes met Lu Liu’s face, and in his haste, his pinky finger accidentally brushed against Lu Liu’s thumb.

The warm sensation made Lin Zhi instinctively pull his hand back and repeat awkwardly, “It’s fine.”

“Don’t be polite.” Lu Liu took advantage of the situation, pulling the suitcase fully toward himself and turning to leave.

Three minutes later, Lin Zhi and Lu Liu each sat on opposite sides of the back seat of the sedan.

Unlike Lu Liu, who sat upright in the center of the seat, Lin Zhi was almost pressed up against the car door.

“Where does your family live?” Feng Shuyun, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned around to ask.

At the sound of her voice, Lin Zhi quickly adjusted his posture to be similar to Lu Liu’s, sitting up straight, and politely smiled as he answered, “My family lives on Yanghu Street, in Biyuan District.”

“That’s pretty much on the way,” Lu Xueyi, the driver, continued, “Lu Liu also passes by Yanghu Street on his way home. When we get close to your place, just let us know, and I’ll find the nearest place to park so you can get off.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Lin Zhi didn’t expect Lu Liu’s claim to be true, and politely added, “You can drop me off under the overpass there.”

“Why is this little student so polite?” Feng Shuyun chuckled. “You’ve thanked us so many times since you got in the car.”

Lu Liu chimed in at the right moment, “His name is Lin Zhi.”

“Lin Zhi is very polite,” Feng Shuyun quickly corrected herself, “He’s more likable than Lu Liu.”

“No, no,” Lin Zhi shook his head repeatedly, “The class monitor has a better personality, everyone in our class—teachers and students alike—likes him.”

After hearing this, Lu Liu turned to look at Lin Zhi with a somewhat ambiguous expression.

“Really?” Feng Shuyun asked humbly, but was clearly pleased to hear praise for her son. “You’re not just saying that because we’re here, are you?”

“No,” Lin Zhi half-lied, flattering, “Lu Liu has a great reputation in our class. He does well in school, is handsome, and is really gentle…”

“I’m gentle?” Lu Liu interrupted before Feng Shuyun could speak, asking in a low voice, “You think I’m gentle?”

“Yeah,” Lin Zhi replied, not understanding the question, “Is something wrong with that?”

“…No problem.” Lu Liu sighed quietly.

In the front seats, both Feng Shuyun and Lu Xueyi laughed. Feng Shuyun said, “Lin Zhi may not know, but Lu Liu really doesn’t like being called gentle.”

“Why not?” Lin Zhi asked, confused.

“I’m not sure,” Feng Shuyun shook her head with a smile. “He just doesn’t like it. Back in middle school, one of his classmates praised him for being gentle in front of a lot of people. After that, he immediately deleted that classmate’s contact.”

How coincidental, Lin Zhi thought. He had accidentally hit a nerve with Lu Liu. Now, Lu Liu would probably dislike him even more. Maybe when he got off the car, Lu Liu would delete his contact too. But…

“But Lu Liu is really gentle,” Lin Zhi insisted on his first impression.

And it was exactly the kind of personality he liked. Lu Liu was like this when he had a crush on him earlier, and later, “Zhi” was also the same type of person he ended up with.

Lin Zhi had always felt that being around such a person gave him a feeling like being embraced by a spring breeze—gentle and comforting.

Feng Shuyun smiled even more happily, laughing while saying, “That’s exactly what Lu Liu’s father and I think, but Lu Liu just refuses to admit it.”

She then turned to look at Lu Liu: “See, even your high school classmate says that. You’re not going to be childish and delete him from your contacts again, are you?”

Lu Liu smiled helplessly, looked seriously at Lin Zhi, and said firmly, “No, I won’t.”

The speed of the private car was much faster than the bus. In less than an hour, the car stopped at the parking spot under the overpass. Lin Zhi got out of the car, took his suitcase, thanked Lu Liu’s parents a few more times, and watched the car drive away before heading towards his own home.

In the short half hour, Lin Zhi could sense that Lu Liu’s family atmosphere was very harmonious.

A person’s character is largely shaped by the family environment they grow up in.

A harmonious family raised Lu Liu to be polite and sensible, while a broken family shaped Yao Wenjing into an insecure and anxious person.

As for Lin Zhi, who had grown up in a single-parent family, though Lin Qingye was a competent father, he couldn’t make up for the lack of maternal love that Lin Zhi had always felt. To a large extent, Lin Zhi’s own personality was also incomplete.

The summer days were long, and when Lin Zhi got home, it was still bright outside. Since Lin Qingye didn’t have work on Sundays, he had cooked a few dishes to wait for Lin Zhi.

When the doorbell rang, Lin Qingye was in the kitchen, skillfully wielding a spatula.

“Wait a minute.” Lin Qingye shouted hoarsely, not caring whether the person outside could hear, before turning off the stove and going to open the door.

“Dad,” Lin Zhi greeted with a smile from outside, “I’m back.”

Lin Qingye immediately felt that his son, who was about to enter his senior year of high school, had suddenly become more sensible, and he felt very pleased in his heart. “I’ve been waiting for you. Didn’t you bring your keys?”

“I did,” Lin Zhi replied, bringing in his suitcase, “But I just wanted to wait for you to open the door.”

He really didn’t like the feeling of coming home to an empty house.

Lin Qingye chuckled a few times. “Alright, alright, I’ll open the door for you. Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m not tired. I got a ride from a classmate’s family.”

“Well, then we really should thank them,” Lin Qingye said with a slight tone of apology. “It’s a shame we don’t have a car. I couldn’t come to pick you up during the break.”

“I don’t really need someone to pick me up. I don’t have many chances to take a car when I’m at school, and during the break, I just bring a suitcase home.”

In the past, he might have felt some envy during his teenage years, but now he didn’t care about those things. His father was alive, his friends had dreams, and the person he liked was in his heart—this was enough.

“Is there something good to eat?” Lin Zhi changed the subject. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m stir-frying right now, it’ll be ready soon,” Lin Qingye, as expected, was distracted by the change in topic. “Go wash your hands, and you’ll be able to eat.”

Lin Qingye’s cooking was average—nothing outstanding, just enough to fill the stomach—but Lin Zhi still ate happily, as it carried the taste of home.

After dinner, the father and son casually half-lay on the sofa, watching TV, without washing the dishes or doing any post-meal exercises to maintain their physiques.

After all, a day or two of slipping won’t hurt. Lin Zhi thought he would start exercising again once he found “Zhi.”

That night, as usual, Lin Zhi searched for “Zhi” on WeChat before bed. As expected, the account showed as non-existent, but during his aimless scrolling, he came across Lu Liu’s WeChat.

Unlike three years later, when almost everyone was on WeChat, in high school, most of his classmates still used QQ. Lin Zhi had added all his classmates on QQ, but he had very few friends on WeChat and used it even less to contact people.

Lin Zhi had long forgotten when he had gotten Lu Liu’s WeChat, but the reason for adding it was easy to guess—he just wanted one more way to contact the person he secretly liked, as if that would bring him closer to him.

“Such childishness.” Lin Zhi muttered quietly to himself in the dim light, then turned off his phone, rolled over, and went to sleep.

The Next Day, Lin Zhi woke up to the sound of his alarm ringing.

He had a lot of things he regretted in the past, small things like spending an entire afternoon playing games, only to find no sense of satisfaction, or staying up until 3 or 4 in the morning, only to sleep until the afternoon the next day and feel drained.

Back then, Lin Zhi thought that if time could be turned back, he would only play games for two hours at most, and go to bed by 12:30 at the latest.

Now that time had really gone back, Lin Zhi decided to do fewer things he would regret, and one of those things was to maintain an early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine during the holidays.

But to be honest, waking up too early was also quite boring. Lin Qingye had already gone to work, so Lin Zhi wandered downstairs for breakfast. By the time he returned, it was still early, and he waited around for a while but couldn’t get in touch with Yao Wenjing. In the meantime, Lin Zhi washed the dishes that had been soaking in the sink the previous day and even mopped the floors of the house.

Finally, Lin Zhi took out a pen and paper, leaned on the coffee table, and wrote out his holiday schedule.

What time to wake up, what to do after waking up, what to do after that, and what time to study—he roughly wrote out time blocks and noted everything he could think of.

Lin Zhi was very sure that this schedule would only last for two days at most. He was writing it down now just as a form of consolation and to kill time.

As he wrote the time he planned to go to bed, his phone, which had been sitting idle, finally rang with a cheerful tone.

“Hello, Xiao Jing,” Lin Zhi quickly answered the phone call from Yao Wenjing. “Are you here yet?”

“Not yet, just arrived…” Yao Wenjing named a station, then said, “It’ll probably take another fifteen minutes before I can get off the bus.”

“Alright,” Lin Zhi clicked the pen cap with one hand, “I’ll wait for you where you get off.”

Lin Zhi changed his shoes and went out. In the fifteen minutes it took, he walked to the bus stop where Yao Wenjing was supposed to get off. However, Yao Wenjing’s estimate was a bit off, as he was already there holding his bag when Lin Zhi arrived.

“Xiao Zhi.” Yao Wenjing came over, carrying a large and a small bag.

“Give that to me.” Lin Zhi took the largest one from him.

“This one has a lot of books in it,” Yao Wenjing held onto the bag, “It’s too heavy, you should take the other one.”

“It’s fine,” Lin Zhi pried Yao Wenjing’s hand away, “Let’s go.”

Yao Wenjing’s father didn’t have a stable job. He was often seen hanging around private gambling places. When he won money, he’d give Yao Wenjing some living expenses, but when he lost, it was good if he didn’t hit him. It was only when he had no money that he’d go take on some odd jobs.

Yao Wenjing had often found himself in situations where the living expenses had run out when he was younger, which led to him being somewhat malnourished. Lin Zhi was the same age as him, but he was much taller.

After entering high school, Yao Wenjing would find part-time work during the holidays. But since he was still underage, there were many restrictions. He didn’t earn much in a month, and it couldn’t improve his standard of living. Even now, he was still thin and frail-looking.

Yao Wenjing’s home was in an old, crowded neighborhood with poor lighting. The motion-sensor lights in the hallways probably hadn’t worked for centuries.

Lin Zhi turned on the flashlight on his phone. “Did you tell your dad you’re coming home?”

“No,” Yao Wenjing, walking ahead, whispered, “Actually, I don’t even know when he’ll be home. I hope he’s not home now.”

“If he is, it’s fine,” Lin Zhi reassured him, “I’m with you, he won’t do anything.”

“Thank you, Xiao Zhi,” Yao Wenjing said sincerely.

When they reached the fourth floor, Yao Wenjing turned into the left hallway and pulled out a key from his backpack.

Lin Zhi pointed the flashlight at the door, and Yao Wenjing inserted the key into the lock, turning it halfway clockwise before stopping.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Zhi asked.

“…The door’s not locked,” Yao Wenjing’s voice trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly.