Under Clear Skies Chapter 85: Cheers with a Cup of Rice Wine

Chapter 85: Cheers with a Cup of Rice Wine

Translated by Fefe of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

 

That afternoon, they had three rounds of sex. Li Yuechi stopped speaking in the last two rounds. He just trained his eyes on Tang Heng as he thrusted in and out of his body. At the end of the third time, they were completely drenched. Tang Heng’s black hair stuck to his face and he didn’t even have the energy to push it aside. Li Yuechi lowered his head and breathed into his ear, “I like the previous color more.”

Tang Heng was almost asleep. “What color?” he asked blearily.

“Your hair.” Li Yuechi reached over to push his hair aside and lightly rubbed the ends. “There used to be some red-orange strands.”

“Mm, my company forced me to dye it black… I’ll dye it again after some time.”

“It’s okay.” Li Yuechi smiled. “This is nice too.”

“I need to sleep.” Tang Heng’s voice was hoarse. “I can’t anymore. So tired.”

“Tang Heng…”

“Hm?”

Li Yuechi got up and brought their thermos over. “Drink some before sleeping. Your throat is too dry.”

Tang Heng eyed him. “Whose fault is that?” he asked with faux anger.

“My fault,” Li Yuechi answered sincerely.

 

The thermos contained warm rice wine. The sweet and sour taste slid down his throat. Tang Heng drank half the bottle in one breath. He squinted and puckered his lips up at Li Yuechi. The boy pulled out a tissue and wiped the glistening rice wine from Tang Heng’s lips.

Tang Heng fell back into bed. He poked Li Yuechi’s arm with his fingertip.

Li Yuechi got out of bed and turned on the air conditioning. Twenty-five degrees.

“Let’s sleep,” Tang Heng said softly.

“Mn.” Li Yuechi lay down beside him and hugged his waist.

Tang Heng fell asleep quickly—even quicklier than before, and he slept heavily. Li Yuechi knew that it was because of the drugs. The air conditioning hummed and the hot stuffy air cooled down. Li Yuechi’s fingertips were pressed lightly under Tang Heng’s ribs. He could feel that Tang Heng’s breathing had turned long and steady. Tang Heng’s back was to him. He couldn’t see Tang Heng’s face, but he didn’t need to. That’s how Li Yuechi comforted himself. He was too, too familiar with it—when Tang Heng was deep asleep, he would occasionally have some childish expressions: furrowed brows, pouting lips, wrinkle his nose like a puppy, as if he was arguing with someone in his dreams. If he felt cold, Tang Heng would subconsciously curl up. If he was hot, he would toss and turn uneasily.

Li Yuechi knew that they’d gone past the limit today. When he’d gone to find Tang Heng, he’d kept warning himself that he must hold back. Scientists said that muscle memory lasted longer than the memories in your brain. That was why some ice skaters could continue skating after memory loss, even if they forgot all the theories and knowledge. Li Yuechi didn’t want Tang Heng to have too many memories related to today, so he kept restraining himself. There were so many things that he wanted to say, but he held back; so many things that he wanted to do, but there wasn’t enough time to do them anymore.

But he hadn’t been able to hold back entirely. He knew he’d hurt Tang Heng—he’d come on too strong. If muscle memory really lasted longer than memories, then would it mean that after a long time, after Tang Heng had forgotten everything about him, at least his body would still feel a bit familiar? When making love, he might even think of him—in the future, would Tang Heng do this with another man? Would Tang Heng suddenly think of him when they did it? Muscle memory lasted longer than memories—even if Tang Heng only thought of him for an instant, that would be great.

These thoughts were fatal. It was like he’d already died once before he even did anything.

It was 5:17. He couldn’t keep dragging it out.

Li Yuechi slowly pulled his arm back. He unfurled the blanket and put it over Tang Heng. He really wanted to kiss Tang Heng’s cheek again, but he feared startling Tang Heng. Plus, they’d already kissed many times today. Li Yuechi was silent for a moment. He hooked a strand of Tang Heng’s hair with his forefinger, lowered himself and kissed the end of the hair.

He knew that he would probably never have a chance to see Tang Heng sleeping like this again in his life.

Li Yuechi quietly put on his clothes and took the keys. Finally, he pulled the cash out of Tang Heng’s pockets. There were 25.80. He knew that money was the least valuable thing to Tang Heng, so Li Yuechi decided to be selfish one last time. For the last time, he would take something from Tang Heng.   

Someday in the future, when he was aged and ailing, if both his muscle and brain memory didn’t count anymore, at least he could still see and touch this physical proof.

Li Yuechi silently closed the door. The one he loved was still fast asleep.

 

At 5:30, Tang Guomu finished his meeting and he strolled to his office. He suffered from high blood pressure these days and his vision wasn’t too good. The lights in the hallway hadn’t turned on yet either. So, when he saw a blurry figure outside his office, he actually felt a tinge of panic. Even though he’d personally compensated that couple 200,000-kuai, those country bumpkins hadn’t been sated and actually thought he didn’t give enough. In the end, the dean stepped forward and the school gave them 30 more thousand.

The figure before him was tall and thin. Clearly, a man. Could it be that they found some other rural relative to make a scene?

He took another step forward. When Tang Guomu saw the person, he let out a relieved breath.

Li Yuechi stood before him with lowered eyes. He wore a loose white shirt and jeans.

“Laoshi.” Li Yuechi didn’t look into his eyes. He said softly, “I… I have some things I want to say to you.”

Tang Guomu scoffed. He wanted to throw his papers into Li Yuechi’s face, but he decided against it because there were surveillance cameras in the hall.   

“Come in,” Tang Guomu said carelessly.

He opened the door and entered the room. He sat onto the leather chair. Li Yuechi followed him and closed the office door.

“What do you want to say?” Tang Guomu sipped his tea. “Kid, there’s no need to apologize.”

Li Yuechi looked up. “I’m not here to apologize,” he said, enunciating his words.

His clear eyes were very calm.

“Oh, then what is it?”

“Laoshi, I’ve decided to leave this university.”

 

As expected. Inside, Tang Guomu was relieved. This uppity bastard was finally leaving. Fu Liling would be satisfied too. When he told Fu Liling today about the girl committing suicide, Fu Liling seemed to have had a mental breakdown. Women were so easily scared.

“Then, what about you and Tang Heng?”

“Broke up.”

Great, Fu Liling will definitely be satisfied.

“Okay, I got it.” Tang Guomu smiled. “You need your teacher’s signature to drop out, right? Did you bring the form?”

“No.” Li Yuechi took two steps forward. “I don’t need it.”

Don’t need it? Since when did the school not require it?

No, he said, I don’t need it.

Tang Guomu looked at Li Yuechi with confusion. He suddenly found that Li Yuechi’s expression wasn’t just calm. It was cold. He stood before Tang Guomu. His back was to the light, so his eyes were pitch black and so deep, like a bottomless well.

Those shreds of fear were back.

Tang Guomu forced himself to calm down. Li Yuechi was just a poor student. What would he dare to do?

“Anyway, you can do the paperwork and come find me if you need a signature.” Tang Guomu wanted to end this conversation. “Okay, anything else?”

Li Yuechi smirked.

The next second, he strangled Tang Guomu.

 

His grip was too strong. Tang Guomu couldn’t even utter a sound—all he could do was struggle in vain. The lack of oxygen caused Tang Guomu’s eyes to widen and bulge as if they would crack apart.

He saw Li Yuechi pull a knife out of his loose shirt.

The sharp blade glinted, reflecting the white light of his office.

“This is for Tian Xiaoqin. You understand.” Before he could react, Li Yuechi already thrusted the knife into him.

He pulled it out. In an even clearer, even colder voice, he said, “This is for Tang Heng.”

With a squelch, the blade was forced into his abdomen again.

Li Yuechi loosened his iron grip. He stared into Tang Guomu’s eyes and said, one word at a time, “If you dare hurt him, no matter how long it’s been, no matter where I am, I will—kill you. This is just a warning, got it?”

The blade was still stuck in Tang Guomu’s body. He couldn’t say anything. He’d already lost control of his bladder.

Li Yuechi got up and fled the office.

 

It was 5:52. Only 27 minutes had passed since he’d walked down the stairs of the apartment to this moment. Tang Heng must still be fast asleep, right?

Li Yuechi walked out of the sociology department. He got onto his bike and dialed An Yun’s number while biking.

“I stabbed Tang Guomu,” he said.

“Wh-what?”

“Stabbed his stomach. He won’t die.” He passed the cafeteria that he and Tang Heng frequented. “I need your help with three things. One, Jiang Ya asked me to do data analysis for his graduation thesis. I finished it and the folder is on my dorm desk. Two, go to my apartment to find Tang Heng in one hour. I sent him a text. Show it to him. Three…

“The third is, don’t tell Tang Heng anything. Let him hate me.”

After Li Yuechi finished speaking, he hung up with without waiting for An Yun’s reply. He shut his phone down.

He rode quickly through the campus. Classes had just ended and it was extremely lively. Li Yuechi passed by the cafeteria, passed by the library, passed by the small path where he and Tang Heng hugged late at night. He hadn’t reached the police station yet, but he was already missing this place. This beautiful school seemed to have never loved him. He’d worked nonstop in order to study here; he’d thought that he could graduate successfully, but then Tian Xiaoqin died and he stabbed Tang Guomu. But he didn’t hate this place, because—because of this school, he met Tang Heng. If he hadn’t studied here, An Yun wouldn’t have called him to Long Love that night, and he wouldn’t have helped Tang Heng protect his guitar… He and Tang Heng would only have met once—through a crowd as he listened to Tang Heng finish a song. He wouldn’t have been confessed too, wouldn’t have been kissed, wouldn’t have been loved.

He didn’t hate this place. Just like how he didn’t regret anything he did.

Because he’d already had the best thing in the world.

He rode out of the South Gate. A bold, fiery-red sun sank at the end of Luoyu Road. People walked to and fro. The fragrances of bean curd and noodles floated out of the shops. The Mayans said that 2012 was the end of the world. If the end of the world looks like this, Li Yuechi thought, it’s not too bad.

Li Yuechi stopped and bought a cup of rice wine.

Tang Heng liked drinking rice wine. He liked it too.

He clutched the paper cup and looked back. The streetlamps had turned on and he couldn’t see the apartment building in Donghu Village. In the end, I couldn’t bid farewell in person, he thought. He swallowed the last mouthful of rice wine. Li Yuechi raised the empty paper cup and waved it in the direction of Donghu Village. Then he got on his bike and didn’t look back again.

Me liking you is free.

—Actually, me too.

 

Part 3: end

 

Author’s note: back to the present timeline now