UI CH 5

On Thursday afternoon, he received a call from the library staff, saying that the materials he had previously registered for had arrived and asking him to pick them up as soon as possible.

The materials were important references for his assignments, so he took advantage of the free afternoon to ride his bike to school. Just as he was approaching the west gate, a voice called out to him.

He braked and looked back to see an unfamiliar face. A tall, burly guy stood with his hands in the pockets of his athletic pants, flanked by two other guys, all three of them looking at him with bad intentions.

He didn’t know these three people. Just as he was about to ask what they wanted, the leader spoke in a mocking tone, “Isn’t this the junior who managed to date our school’s beauty queen? How come you’re all alone today?”

The guy in the yellow shirt behind him chuckled and added,
“You don’t know? He’s famous all over campus as the ultimate sucker now.”

The guy in the black T-shirt next to the yellow-shirted guy also laughed exaggeratedly and even slapped the leader on the back. “Yeah, wasn’t it a big scandal last week? How could you forget so soon?”

Shen Ran had one foot on the ground, and his expression had already darkened as he listened to their words. Seeing his face change, the leader took two steps forward and said,
“What? Not happy? Even if you’re not, you’d better hold it in. After all, you can’t even measure up to a woman.”

“But I’m really curious,”
the guy’s gaze shifted suggestively downward, stopping at Shen Ran’s jeans zipper. He grinned sleazily.

“Are you really as useless as the rumors say? Is that why our school’s beauty couldn’t stand it and would rather find a girl—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a heavy thud echoed. His eyes widened, and before he could react, Shen Ran’s fist struck his left cheek, sending him stumbling backward.

The two behind him hadn’t expected Shen Ran to suddenly abandon his bike and attack, and both were knocked over as the leader crashed into them, all three ending up sprawled on the ground in a mess.

At the intersection ahead, Zhao Jiyu stepped on the brake and picked up the phone by the car door. After unlocking it, he glanced at WeChat.

His message list was filled with unread notifications, none of which he opened. He kept scrolling down until he stopped at a contact whose name was just a sun emoji.

This was someone he had actively added a few days ago, yet they hadn’t exchanged a single word since. He tapped on the profile picture, zooming in on the cool image of the person making a slam dunk. His fingers resting on his lips lightly brushed his slightly upturned smile.

Putting down his phone, Zhao Jiyu switched to a new song on the car’s stereo. The traffic light ahead was still red, and he looked around idly. When his gaze swept halfway across, he noticed a crowd gathered at the entrance of a nearby alley, some of them holding up their phones to record something.

He had never been interested in joining crowds, and he was just about to look away when he saw someone bolt out of the alley. The person was running so fast and looking back that they tripped and fell flat on their face.

The crowd watching let out a collective gasp. Soon, a second person ran out, helping the one who had fallen. They shouted something back, and shortly after, a third person appeared.

The three of them looked disheveled, with varying degrees of bruises on their faces. As they fled, the crowd burst into laughter.

At that moment, the traffic light ahead began its countdown. Zhao Jiyu rested his right hand on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping to the rhythm of the music. When the countdown hit six seconds, he saw the last person walk out of the alley.

The person was pushing a blue-and-white mountain bike, with blood at the corner of their mouth. Perhaps because of the recent fight, their expression was somewhat vicious.

Zhao Jiyu froze for a moment after just one look. The person’s walking posture seemed normal, and they ignored the crowd, heading straight to the McDonald’s nearby.

The thin lenses of Zhao Jiyu’s glasses reflected the figure until a honk from behind brought him back to his senses. He pressed the gas pedal, crossed the intersection, but couldn’t help looking into the rearview mirror at the McDonald’s again. At the next intersection, he turned the steering wheel and made a U-turn.

As Shen Ran climbed the stairs, he kept his head down. His injuries weren’t severe, so no one noticed anything unusual. Once he entered a bathroom stall, he leaned against the wall, bent over as if drained of energy, and clutched his lower abdomen, muttering a curse.

His mouth was full of the metallic taste of blood. He prodded his split lip with his tongue, the sharp pain making him want to curse even more.

During the fight with those three bastards, he had taken a few hits as well. However, they only had the size to intimidate people—when it came to actual fighting, they were nothing. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to gain the upper hand.

He lifted the hem of his T-shirt to check his lower abdomen. There was already some redness and swelling where he had been punched. His waist had also taken a kick, but luckily the angle was off, and it hadn’t hit anything critical. Pressing the side of his waist, he frowned, debating whether to visit the school clinic. He worried, though, about how to explain his injuries to the nurse.

He had started the fight in the alley. Even if he was the provoked party, being the first to throw a punch put him at a disadvantage. He sighed, dropped his T-shirt back down, and pushed open the door. At the sink, he started cleaning the blood from the corner of his mouth.

After parking in the temporary space, Zhao Jiyu pushed open the door to the McDonald’s and looked around. Not spotting anyone on the first floor, he followed the stairs up to the second floor.

This McDonald’s was right across from the school gate. Since it was summer break and not a peak mealtime, there were few customers inside. Zhao Jiyu didn’t find anyone upstairs either, so he went into the bathroom. Sure enough, he saw Shen Ran facing the sink, his back to the door, washing his face.

The sound of running water filled the room, and Shen Ran didn’t notice the movement behind him. After washing his face, he reached for a paper towel on the wall. When he looked up and saw the person behind him, his movements froze.

With both hands in his pockets, Zhao Jiyu’s eyes held no discernible emotion as he met Shen Ran’s gaze through the mirror. When Shen Ran finally looked away, Zhao Jiyu asked,
“Besides your lip, are you hurt anywhere else?”

Shen Ran pulled two paper towels, pressing them against the cut on his lip. He turned to leave, but after just one step, his wrist was grabbed.

Already fuming with anger and looking for a place to vent, Shen Ran found Zhao Jiyu—the last person he wanted to see—right in front of him. Despite his emotions, he restrained himself, only casting a sideways glance at his trapped hand.
“Let go.”

Zhao Jiyu wasn’t here to pick a fight. He released his hand immediately and advised,
“If you’re injured, it’s best to get checked at a hospital. Internal bleeding can be serious.”

Shen Ran left without a word. After the door closed, Zhao Jiyu lowered his head, looking at his now-empty left hand, and then pulled the door open to follow.

He trailed behind Shen Ran down the stairs. Shen Ran could feel his presence and wanted to walk faster to shake him off, but his injured waist made it difficult. Left with no choice, he endured it and pretended Zhao Jiyu wasn’t there, leaving McDonald’s and heading toward the pedestrian overpass ahead.

Zhao Jiyu also walked toward the school, maintaining a steady pace behind him. When they reached the entrance of the library, Shen Ran could no longer ignore him. He stopped, turned around, and glared.

The person following him stood bathed in the golden sunset, his elongated shadow stretching across the ground. Unlike his attire that night in the dark, today Zhao Jiyu wore a crisp white shirt with two buttons undone at the collar. His long sleeves were casually rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms as fair as his face.

When met with Shen Ran’s glare, Zhao Jiyu curled his lips into a flawless smile.

The breeze swept over the lawn, tousling Zhao Jiyu’s hair. He raised his hand to brush back his wind-messed bangs. As he walked closer, Shen Ran saw his smooth forehead and those slender, captivating eyes behind the glasses. His attempt at glaring lost some of its momentum.

Zhao Jiyu knew how to use his charm. He tilted his head slightly, his clear and bright eyes meeting Shen Ran’s. In a gentle voice, low enough for only the two of them to hear, he asked,
“Why did you stop? Were you waiting for me?”

His playful proximity snapped Shen Ran out of his daze. He frowned and took a step back.

The step was a bit too wide, with half his foot landing on the edge of the step. When he wobbled, Zhao Jiyu reached out and pulled him toward himself, his arm wrapping around Shen Ran’s waist. When they stopped moving, Shen Ran found himself held snugly in Zhao Jiyu’s embrace.

The sudden intimacy crossed a line for Shen Ran. He pushed Zhao Jiyu away, finally losing his patience.
“Zhao Jiyu, what do you want?”

Zhao Jiyu, still calm, looked at him with unhurried eyes.
“I was just worried you’d fall. Look behind you.”

Shen Ran had been to this library countless times. He didn’t need to look to know there was a row of steps behind him. He turned around anyway, took two steps up, and then stopped again.

Zhao Jiyu watched his back, thinking he might want to say something. But Shen Ran merely stood there for a moment before continuing up the stairs.

Zhao Jiyu followed him, observing as Shen Ran went to the duty room on the third floor of the library to pick up some study materials. Shen Ran moved normally going up the stairs, but on the way down, his struggle was evident—especially with that heavy stack of materials in a white plastic bag, awkward and difficult to carry.

Zhao Jiyu walked up to Shen Ran and took the bag into his own hand. When Shen Ran tried to take it back, Zhao Jiyu started walking down the stairs and said,
“I’ll walk you home.”

Shen Ran stood still, hesitating for a moment before finally managing to say,
“Aren’t you done with this yet?”

“Is this fun for you?”

Zhao Jiyu’s silhouette seemed to sigh. He then turned back, looking up at Shen Ran from below.
“Don’t be so hostile. I’m just trying to help since you’re hurt.”

He shook the heavy plastic bag in his hand and continued,
“Carrying this will only make your waist injury worse. A man’s waist is important—you wouldn’t want other women thinking you’re not up to par in the future, would you?”

His comment struck a nerve, touching on a man’s pride, and he even threw in the word “women.” Shen Ran stared at him, wide-eyed, but once again found himself speechless. Left with no choice, he walked behind Zhao Jiyu as they retraced their steps.

When they reached the pedestrian overpass, Zhao Jiyu stopped, looking down at a small stall selling seashells.

Xiamen was a coastal city, and it was common to see street vendors spreading out cloths to sell all kinds of seashells. Usually, only girls and kids showed interest in these things.

As Shen Ran walked past Zhao Jiyu, Zhao Jiyu suddenly asked,
“See anything you like?”

Shen Ran looked confused.

Zhao Jiyu shook his head and muttered to himself,
“Forget it. It’s more fun to dig them up yourself.”

He continued walking forward, leaving Shen Ran staring at his back in exasperation. When they both reached the area near where Shen Ran had parked, Zhao Jiyu turned back and, as expected, saw a gloomy expression on his face.

Shen Ran’s blue-and-white mountain bike lay on the ground, kicked over. The seat was slashed in over a dozen places, the wheels were bent, and even the middle frame had been battered out of shape.

Seeing his bike destroyed like this, Shen Ran didn’t feel anger—just an overwhelming sense of fatigue.

He had bought this bike as a reward for himself when he got into college. It had cost him most of his summer job earnings that year. He had always taken good care of it, keeping it looking nearly new, never expecting it to end up like this today.

Zhao Jiyu pulled out his phone and unlocked it.
“I’ll call the police for you.”

“No need.”
Shen Ran stepped forward to pick up his bike. As soon as he grabbed the handle, he realized it had been coated with super sticky glue—his hand was completely stuck to it.

The childishness of this prank was beyond ridiculous. Shen Ran gritted his teeth, trying to peel his palm away despite the sharp, tearing pain. After only a few tries, Zhao Jiyu pressed his hand down, saying,
“I have some oil in my car. Wait here.”

Before Shen Ran could respond, Zhao Jiyu had already walked off. Shen Ran called out, “Hey!” but Zhao Jiyu didn’t stop. Watching his tall figure stride away, Shen Ran’s gaze eventually landed on the plastic bag Zhao Jiyu was carrying.

There was nothing else to do but wait. Shen Ran continued to stare at his vandalized bike. The three guys who had messed with him earlier were probably just like the others who disliked him. Ever since he got together with Li Ting, they’d been holding a grudge. After what happened last week, they had taken the opportunity to mock him, waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Zhao Jiyu didn’t keep him waiting long. He soon returned with a bottle of oil and some tissues. He opened the cap, soaked the tissue with oil, and when Shen Ran reached out his free hand to take it, Zhao Jiyu said, “I’ll do it,” and started cleaning the glue himself.

Since Shen Ran only had one hand free and needed to hold the bike steady, it was difficult for him to manage on his own. However, Zhao Jiyu’s proximity as he cleaned was a bit too close for comfort.

Shen Ran couldn’t help but notice the faint scent of ink on him, the kind of clean and cool fragrance that lingered subtly around him.

Unlike the dampness of that night wrapped in rainwater and sweat, today’s scent was like a piece of dry wood soaked in ink fragrance, thick and distant with a subtle, lingering aroma.

This scent reminded Shen Ran of his childhood, when his father was still alive. He used to sit at his father’s desk learning to write with a fountain pen, and there was a similar scent on the writing desk.

The memories stirred his thoughts, drifting far away, until Zhao Jiyu finished cleaning.

Shen Ran snapped back to the present, still feeling a bit sticky on the palm of his left hand, but there were no broken skin. Instead, Zhao Jiyu’s fair fingers had turned red from helping him clean.

It felt right.

After packing up, Zhao Jiyu said to him,
“You can push the bike to the trunk of my car. I’ll drive you home.”