Under Clear Skies Chapter 47: He’s Spoiled

Chapter 47: He’s Spoiled

Translated by Fefe of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

The two squeezed onto that twin-sized bed, bodies overlapping. Fortunately, the bed was sturdy enough and didn’t produce any embarrassing noises. The sky outside the window darkened bit by bit. Tang Heng spaced out as he gazed at the small glass. Li Yuechi’s breathing sounded in his ears. He buried his face in Tang Heng’s hair; his breaths brushed against Tang Heng’s cheeks—they were warm.

After embracing like that for a while, Tang Heng whispered, “What time is it?”

“It’s all dark.”

“Mn, it’s gonna rain.”

Not long after this conversation, it indeed started drizzling outside the window and the sky darkened even more. The patch of sky framed within the window was like an inkwell full of water. Tang Heng looked for some time and lightly closed his eyes.

“The doctor’s diagnosis was BPD,” he murmured.

Li Yuechi’s breathing stilted. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Borderline personality disorder. A kind of… mental condition.”

“When were you diagnosed?”

“Can’t remember.”

“Tang Heng.”        

“Hm?”

“Tell me everything.”

“It’s not much, really.” Those images flashed past his mind and Tang Heng’s brows furrowed. “Just going to the doctor’s, taking pills, follow-up visits… That stuff. I recovered pretty well. Even stopped the medication.”

Li Yuechi was silent for a few seconds. “It’s because of me,” he stated, like it’s a declaration.

“One of the reasons.” Tang Heng tightened his arms around Li Yuechi’s waist. “It was messy at the time. I thought about everything.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

 “No.”

“Really?”

“Really. It must hurt so much. I can’t stand it.” Tang Heng laughed. “I just lay there every day. The evenings were unbearable.”

“Evenings.”

“Yeah. The house I rented was close to the church—those Gothic-style ones. In the evenings, the lights would turn on. I could see the sky get illuminated from my window.”

“And then?”

“And then I’d lay in bed, watching the sky darken, the lights brighten, and then night falls.”        

Staying quiet, Li Yuechi lifted a hand to caress Tang Heng’s back. Their sweat had dried and, perhaps because of the rain, it was a bit chilly in the room. Li Yuechi placed the blanket over their bodies and his palm rubbed against Tang Heng’s skin under the blanket. There were calluses on his palm, making it slightly ticklish. Tang Heng yawned. He was actually sleepy.

“Sleep, then,” Li Yuechi murmured.

Tang Heng made a noise in reply. “Can you keep me company?”

Li Yuechi answered, “Okay.”

“With you by my side, it seems that evenings aren’t too bad.” Tang Heng smiled after saying that and closed his eyes, lying beside Li Yuechi.

Perhaps because the rain sounds outside the window were too lulling, or perhaps because his body was too exhausted after sex, he slept so heavily that he didn’t even dream. When Tang Heng woke up, his limbs were sore and weak—of course, there was probably another reason for this.

Li Yuechi was beside him, softly holding his waist, while his leg was propped over Li Yuechi’s leg.

Tang Heng was confused for a second. “You really are here,” he said.

“It’s real,” Li Yuechi repeated.

“Mn…” Tang Heng blinked. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty.”

“What date?”

“April 11.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll go get water and wipe you down,” Li Yuechi said. “Then we’ll eat dinner.”

With that, he got up and changed his clothes before leaving. Tang Heng pulled the blanket up until it covered his chin. His behind felt painful. It was probably swollen. Tang Heng lowered his head and sniffed, whiffing the faint fragrance of lotion—it was the one that Li Yuechi had used on him.

Even though Li Yuechi had closed the door, wooden houses like this were barely soundproof. Tang Heng could still hear Li Yuechi’s voice as he curled up under the blanket. “Ma, don’t heat the food yet. I need to boil water.”

“Boil water for what?”

“Teacher Tang needs a bath.”

“Aiya, doesn’t he have a fever? Don’t bathe…”        

“He needs to.” Li Yuechi paused. “He’s used to being spoiled.”

Tang Heng: …

A short while later, Li Yuechi came into the room with hot water, but he left again after setting down the basin. When he returned, he held a towel with one hand and a pair of underwear with the other.        

He tossed the towel into the basin and the underwear at Tang Heng. It was a pair of dark blue boxers, the edges a bit worn. “Is this yours?” Tang Heng whispered.

Li Yuechi nodded. “I don’t have any new ones.”

“Oh…”

Li Yuechi glanced at him. “You don’t have to wear it.”        

Tang Heng’s face grew hot. “That’s not what I meant,” he said hurriedly.

“Mn.” Li Yuechi was silent for a moment, like he was pondering seriously, and then asked, “Do you not like this color?”

“…”

It was just that he’d suddenly thought of something from six years ago. It was strange—he couldn’t even remember what day or month today was, but he could precisely remember something form six years ago. Six years ago, they’d often spent the night in that rented apartment. Their clothes had often been in a messy pile too—but it was easy to distinguish. After all, Tang Heng’s clothes had brand logos, while Li Yuechi’s were cheap stuff from street stalls. The clothes were easy to distinguish, but not the underwear. They had similar body size and often tossed the underwear together in a hurry. They couldn’t figure out whose was whose after waking up.

Later, Tang Heng had bought two boxes of new underwear and kept it in the apartment. One box of dark blue underwear for Li Yuechi, one box of white ones for himself.

He was shocked that he could remember this kind of detail—it was like he’d left these memories in that apartment. He thought that they would disappear into the darkness when he closed the door softly at night.

Now, the door had been pushed open. He only needed a ray of light to discover that they were still there.

Li Yuechi wrung a towel dry and lifted the blanket. “Turn around,” he said softly.

With the lights on, Tang Heng felt a little shy. “I’ll do it myself.”

“You can’t see.”

“It’s okay. It’s just—”

“Turn around,” Li Yuechi repeated. “Wasn’t it always like this.”

Tang Heng flipped over, burying his face in the pillow, unmoving as if he’d given up the fight. His body was tensed—it was like all of his other body parts were numb, save for the place that the towel was wiping. It was as sensitive as a river, rippling continuously. 

Indeed, it had been like this in the past. That apartment had been too cramped, too stuffy. Even after they’d installed air conditioning, they’d still be drenched in sweat after sex. Sometimes, they’d do it until midnight and then Tang Heng would use Li Yuechi’s arm as a pillow and drawl lazily, “Xuezhang, I want to wash up.”

Li Yuechi’s voice wouldn’t be as clear as before, always having a tinge of exhaustion as he said, “Then go.”

“I can’t get up.”

“Oh.”

“Xuezhang.”

Then Li Yuechi would sigh and obediently get out of bed to heat up water.        

“Tang Heng.”

“Huh?” Tang Heng snapped back to reality. “What’s wrong?”

Li Yuechi held his phone before him. “Call from Director Xu.”