Under Clear Skies Chapter 37: Free

Chapter 37: Free

Translated by Fefe of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

“Where do you not feel good?” Tang Heng asked softly.

Li Yuechi didn’t answer. He just rested the side of his head on Tang Heng’s shoulder and shook his head lightly. Tang Heng could feel his breathing—it was heavy, like he had to exert so much strength for each inhale and exhale.

“I’ll bring you back,” Tang Heng said. “You’re drunk.”

“No.”

“…”

“Walk with me.” Li Yuechi suddenly grabbed Tang Heng’s waist hard as if to emphasize his words. “Accompany me.”

All Tang Heng could do was ask, “Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere.”

Tang Heng grasped Li Yuechi’s wrist. “Get up first.”

Li Yuechi obediently let go of the embrace and stood up straight. Even though he was tipsy, he was still straight-backed.

Tang Heng clutched Li Yuechi’s wrist and quickly circled the crowd, walking into a dark alley. The music gradually faded away. There was nobody on the street; he could only hear their footsteps. Just how drunk was Li Yuechi? Tang Heng didn’t know. Not only was his back straight, he also walked steadily, so Tang Heng even felt that if he told Li Yuechi to go back to his dorm alone, Li Yuechi could get there safe and sound too.

Maybe he should let go of Li Yuechi’s hand, but he didn’t want to.

“You were there, singing, the first time I saw you.” Li Yuechi’s voice was muffled. “You were singing there. Everyone was looking at you. I was looking at you too.”

“The last time they held the grass concert?”

“Mn, I was going home after tutoring. I passed by.”

“…”

“You had a ponytail, a black t-shirt, standing there, singing. Didn’t think I’d meet you later.” Li Yuechi seemed to smile in the dark. “Didn’t think you’d like me.”

Tang Heng’s cheeks burned from his words. “Were you surprised?” he asked in a low voice.

“What’s there to like about me?” Li Yuechi continued by himself. “I don’t have money and I’m in debt. I’m boring too. Do you like my face?”

“I—”

“But you’re so attractive, so my face isn’t that special either, right?”   

Tang Heng wanted to say that these things had nothing to do with each other, but he swallowed those words. Li Yuechi was so drunk right now. How could he reason with him?

Li Yuechi continued, “I don’t know why you like me, Tang Heng.”

 

Feelings were feelings. Why was the reason important? Tang Heng didn’t answer and just walked forward silently while holding his wrist. The two walked out of that scraggly alley and arrived at Luoyu Road. The circular streetlights were illuminated, making the night sky hazy.

“I think that everything, everything in this world has its cost, you know?” Li Yuechi’s voice went even softer, lower, as if he was telling himself. “If I receive something, then I have to pay the equivalent cost. They’re all equal.”

Tang Heng listened wordlessly. He didn’t actually understand.

“Nothing is given to me for free. The cost of my education was my dad working elsewhere. The cost of me coming to Wuhan for university was that my mom sold our family’s cow… Everything has a cost, just like how you have to pay for food. What’s the cost of you liking me?”

Tang Heng stopped walking, suddenly not knowing if he should laugh or cry. He thought of Pan Peng’s words, because maybe Pan Peng was right. Li Yuechi was indeed obsessed with money—but this didn’t mean he loved money.

He was just used to measuring everything with their cost. How could someone be like this? Could it be that every instant that he ‘received,’ he would already be calculating the consequences?

Tang Heng turned and looked at Li Yuechi. There was some confusion in Li Yuechi’s eyes—not shock, but the feeling of being lost. The white streetlight splashed onto his body. He was like a wild stallion that had accidentally come into the city, studying everything in confusion.

“Me liking you,” Tang Heng said, “it’s free.”

 

Li Yuechi stared straight at Tang Heng as if he couldn’t understand the meaning of that sentence. Tang Heng added, “I mean… I don’t need you to give up anything for me to like you, got it? You just need to be liked.”

“Really?” Li Yuechi asked softly.

“Really,” Tang Heng said. Actually, he didn’t quite understand what Li Yuechi meant by ‘cost.’ Like how he said his dad had to work to support his studies—didn’t most parents in the world work to support their families?

The corners of Li Yuechi’s lips quirked and his dark eyes shone. He was smiling. Tang Heng threw all his thoughts to the back of his mind and gaped at Li Yuechi. He felt like all light was shining in this direction and Luoyu Road rose up into mountains under their feet, soaring mountains—he could pick a star with his hand. Tang Heng couldn’t help but reach out and touch Li Yuechi’s face.

His fingertips had light calluses from playing guitar. He stiffly grazed Li Yuechi’s cheeks, followed the jawline down, and touched his slightly messy stubble.

Li Yuechi closed his eyes but didn’t hide.

Tang Heng’s throat tightened. “Which way do we go?” he asked.   

But Li Yuechi said instead, “Is this really free?”

“Yes.”

“Then, can I hold your hand?”

“…Yes.” Just this once, Tang Heng thought self-depreciatively. Just this once, he could forget that Li Yuechi had a girlfriend.

Thus, Li Yuechi grabbed Tang Heng’s hand and their fingers intertwined.

And then Li Yuechi said, “Can I kiss you again?”

Tang Heng didn’t know what he was supposed to say. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he could only squeeze out a few words. “Anything is okay.”

Fortunately, they weren’t at a very busy street. They were at the entrance of 627 Hospital and most of the clinical departments had long closed, so there were very few passersby around. If they walked a few more minutes ahead, Tang Heng thought, they’d pass the dental hospital to Wuhan Uni’s South Gate, then to Yintai Creative City. There’d be more people coming to and fro, and he wouldn’t be able to do this.

Li Yuechi took a step forward, not giving Tang Heng any time to prepare mentally, dipped down, and kissed him. He pressed against the back of Tang Heng’s head and kissed hard. Tang Heng suddenly thought back to that night by the river. He’d held him down like this too and Tang Heng had thought that he was getting irritated. Now, he finally realized: had Li Yuechi been afraid that he’d run away?

Tang Heng closed his eyes and his lips parted slightly. Li Yuechi’s breath surged in. He’d smoked again. Was it the Huangguoshu, five-kuai per pack? The tobacco was a bit harsh, but it wasn’t bad. Tang Heng suddenly thought of how, in his childhood, autumn in the north always had many red and yellow fallen leaves. The workers would sweep the leaves into tiny mountains and burn them. Sometimes, his dad would stand to the side and watch with him in his arms. A sliver of blue-gray smoke would scatter from the autumn breeze and the burning scent would crash around, bringing with it the crackling noises. His dad would say, Tang Heng, the things remaining after it finishes burning are called inorganic compounds. Tang Heng didn’t know why he suddenly thought of this small thing. He was a liberal arts student and had nothing to do with biology. Inorganic compounds. He’d thought that he’d long forgotten this term.

Li Yuechi’s hand moved from the back of his head to his cheek, his rough palm cupping his face, kissing him soundlessly. Tang Heng shivered. He felt like a pile of fallen leaves, rustling as licks of flames burned him. Bone knocked against bone, sounding like pounding heartbeats. He realized that kissing was such a painful yet satisfying thing—even if he’d burn into ashes, inorganic compounds, he accepted it.

 

After a long, long time, the two separated slightly. Li Yuechi seemed even more intoxicated. “Do you often go down Luoyu Road?” he asked.

“Yes,” Tang Heng said in a daze. Luoyu Road was right outside the South Gate. There was a business district, the subway station, and when spring changed into summer, there’d be old grannies selling gardenias.

“Me too. When I tutored during uni, I walked down it on the way there, on the way back.” Li Yuechi sighed. “Why didn’t I meet you earlier?”

Tang Heng felt that his heart was like one bubble in bubble wrap. Li Yuechi squeezed it and it shattered.

There didn’t seem to be a way back. Tang Heng clutched Li Yuechi’s hand tightly, knowing he was making a mistake. Perhaps he often made mistakes—mistakes in other people’s eyes, such as insisting on going abroad, such as arguing with Fu Liling, such as suddenly deciding to go on an exchange to Tokyo. But he never cared. If they had to believe that he was wrong, then so be it.

But this time, it was different. He knew that he was making a mistake—subjectively, objectively, it was all wrong.

How could he take advantage of the other? Li Yuechi was drunk and his girlfriend was still in Central Hospital, but right now, at this moment, he was holding onto Li Yuechi’s hand hard and the scent of Li Yuechi’s cigarettes was still between his lips. It wasn’t just a mistake. It was extremely shameful. He’d lived boldly and without guilt for more than 20 years. This was the first time that he wished he could forget who he was. If only it could rain now and have the thunderstorm and hail fall onto his body like nails, hurt him, wake him up. But there was no rain tonight. The night sky was so foggy that there wasn’t even moonlight—perhaps even the moon thought that they were too lowly to be seen or heard.

Just this time, Tang Heng thought. He admitted to his crime, but just this once.

“Where are we going?” Tang Heng asked hoarsely.

Li Yuechi lifted his other hand, rubbing Tang Heng’s cheek with his thumb. “I wanna hear you sing.”

“Here?”

“My place.”

 

Thus, the two set off, holding hands. It all seemed so natural—so natural that it felt despicable. They held hands in that dark alley, passing by the various old buildings waiting to be torn down, footsteps so fast that it was like an escape. In the end, they started running. They couldn’t bother with the reeking garbage pile either. They clambered up the stairs, almost tripping, fell into the apartment as soon as they opened the door, and started kissing again.

“Don’t move,” Li Yuechi ordered harshly. Pressed him against the wall, sucked on his lips hard. His trembling arms hit the glass jar filled with Sichuan peppers and almost knocked it onto the floor, but Li Yuechi didn’t care at all. He just forced his head back, forcing him to look at him.

Their breaths intermingled. “Xuedi,” Li Yuechi said.

Tang Heng reached out and caressed his sweaty hair.

“Sing,” Li Yuechi said.

It was Summer Night’s Breeze again. When he’d sat on the grass and sang this song tonight, he’d thought that it would be his last time.

Tang Heng’s voice trembled as if his vocal cords weren’t his own. The summer night’s breeze, swayed you in my arms. Li Yuechi lowered his head, burrowing his cheek in the crook of his shoulder. It was warm. The moon hangs in the starry sky, entangling with your pleas. When their skin pressed against each other, their sweat blended into one another. He couldn’t tell which was his and which was Li Yuechi’s. The love of a lonely heart, a love that is still waiting… Tang Heng couldn’t sing on. He rested the back of his head on the bumpy wall and closed his eyes.

Li Yuechi didn’t look up. He asked, “You’re crying?”

“Do you still not feel good?” Tang Heng asked in response, clenching his jaw.

“Yes.” Li Yuechi spoke slowly. “I drank too much. My head hurts.”

Yes, Tang Heng thought. Otherwise, how could I appear in this place, at this time?

“Her dad treated me to a drink. Said I worked too hard this past year.” Li Yuechi’s voice was almost inaudible. “She’s in critical condition.”

Tang Heng didn’t know what he should say. After a moment of silence, he said, “Condolences.”

“This isn’t actually the first time. We’d gotten the notice before too, but this time… She might not be able to survive.” Li Yuechi exhaled and looked up. “See, I was right. Everything has a cost.”

“She’s a cost too?”

Li Yuechi shook his head and didn’t answer. 

 

That night, Tang Heng stayed in Li Yuechi’s apartment, the two squeezing onto the twin-sized bed. Li Yuechi fell asleep quickly. His breaths were heavy, like he was extremely exhausted. Meanwhile, Tang Heng kept his eyes open and gazed out the narrow window. It turned out that he couldn’t hear Long Love’s music from here, it turned out that Li Yuechi had seen him early on. He looked on until past midnight. He knew that after tonight, Li Yuechi would definitely regret it.