Between Us : Chapter 13: Wronged Puppy

After eating hot pot, the smell of grilled meat clung to every part of his body down to each strand of hair. Chen Qian spent considerable effort in his bathroom, washing up, shampooing, showering, and even made efficient use of the time while blow drying his hair to put on a butt mask.

Timing it to leave fifteen minutes for Xu Jue, Chen Qian turned off the phone playing music on the wall shelf, grabbed the clothes from the laundry basket and opened the bathroom door.

However, without the music surrounding him and without the door panel blocking sound, the clearly articulated roars from the living room at this moment pierced through Chen Qian’s eardrums, startling him so much he nearly couldn’t hold the clothes in his arms steady.

“I just temporarily moved out of the house, I’m not dead!” Xu Jue’s right hand clenched into a fist cracked his knuckles, “what do you mean by tolerance? Did I get a 141 in Chinese for nothing? Letting Ding Xuezhou run wild in my room is tolerance? When I’m dead and looking up from the underworld, seeing him dancing on my grave, do I still have to applaud?”

Chen Qian set down the clothes and walked softly on plush slippers to stand behind Xu Jue.

Xu Jue lifted his foot about to kick the sofa leg to vent his emotions, then changed direction and kicked the backpack next to the coffee table instead: “Laughable, my room isn’t mine, I’m just living under someone else’s roof. Mom, if you thought this way from the start then you shouldn’t have taken me with you when you divorced. I’d be much more comfortable living with dad.”

The backpack flipped over and fell, and the thermos from the side pocket rolled out with a clatter, hitting the TV stand and stopping. Chen Qian bent down to pick it up.

Probably realizing his own rashness, Xu Jue tried his best to calm his anger, but he also didn’t want to waste any more energy arguing: “Yes yes, I’m rebellious and unfilial, Ding Xuezhou is the most sensible one with unlimited prospects who wins you face, nothing more to say, hanging up.”

The north wind carrying dampness blew in from the balcony. Xu Jue stood rooted in the draft as if he weren’t afraid of the cold, his heaving chest still not fully suppressing the resentment brought by this phone call.

Chen Qian couldn’t stand the cold, ran over to close the balcony door, came back and picked up Xu Jue’s backpack and tossed it on the sofa, and put the books that had fallen out back inside.

After all this bustling about, Xu Jue was still standing stiffly. Chen Qian grabbed his wrist and pulled the burning hot phone from his hand, setting it aside.

“Sit down, you’re so tall, always standing there aren’t you worried about punching a hole through my ceiling?” Chen Qian pushed his shoulder, and Xu Jue suddenly lost all his strength, letting this force send him tumbling into the sofa.

The old secondhand sofa creaked, catching this person whose eyes were full of turmoil.

The unhappiness between the young man’s brows, Chen Qian had seen once before. It was that day at the quiet bar when Xu Jue poured out his troubles to him. All other times, Xu Jue was gentle and bright.

Chen Qian lacked experience in coaxing children. He himself had a stubborn personality, and he didn’t know whether his spur of the moment idea was right or wrong. He curled his finger and pressed his knuckle against Xu Jue’s brow, sliding down along the bridge of his nose to the tip.

“What are you doing?” Xu Jue didn’t dodge, his tone completely different from just now.

Chen Qian said: “Coaxing you.”

“Do you usually coax people this way?”

“I normally don’t use this method.” Chen Qian pulled out two pieces of clothing from the pile on the sofa and stuffed them into Xu Jue’s hands, “go shower first, the water pressure is already starting to drop.”

Unlike the previous night when he still had the energy to jerk off after stumbling upon Chen Qian’s cabinet full of private items, Xu Jue’s belly was full of broken matters tonight. He washed up hastily and came out rubbing his hair. Passing through the living room he saw Chen Qian with his legs draped over the sofa armrest, applying body lotion one area at a time, the silk robe sliding down from his raised thigh and piling up softly at the base of his legs.

Having grown accustomed to his dorm mates’ hairy legs, this was the first time Xu Jue had seen a man’s legs that could be so slender and pale, without a single bit of extra flesh, as if a slightly hard pinch would leave a red mark.

“Did you catch the hot water?” Chen Qian looked up at him.

Xu Jue quickly lowered his neck and rubbed his hair: “Yes.”

“While you’re at it help me throw the clothes in the washing machine,” Chen Qian pointed toward the storage cabinet outside the bathroom, “it’s over there.” Xu Jue carried the clothes to the balcony, lifted the washing machine lid and tossed them in, then leaned against the railing to blow in the cold wind for a while before coming back inside.

“Your clothes I’ve folded and put on the study bed,” Chen Qian screwed on the body lotion cap, lowered his legs from the sofa armrest, the hanging hem of his robe swaying back down to his calves. He patted the spot next to him, “sit.”

Chen Qian’s gaze was a gentle knife that Xu Jue dared not look directly at. This knife excelled at dissecting the shell he thought was steady and fearless, picking out the rebellion, stubbornness, and childishness inside.

These bad traits were often completely exposed in front of Chen Qian. Many people didn’t like them, so Xu Jue was also afraid Chen Qian wouldn’t like them.

Even though he himself couldn’t figure out why he cared so much about Chen Qian’s opinion of him.

His hair ends still carried damp coolness. Xu Jue found an excuse: “I’m going back to the room to blow dry my hair.”

“Have you decided to sleep here tonight?” Chen Qian asked.

Xu Jue was instantly speechless. The first night he stayed over at Chen Qian’s place, he said “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.” The second time, he said “put me up for one night.” And today, it seemed he hadn’t even gotten the host’s permission.

Chen Qian didn’t force him to sit either, just propped his chin in his hand and looked up to meet his eyes: “Xu Jue, that snowy night, you ran away from home, didn’t you?”

That gentle knife started working again.

Xu Jue didn’t hide it: “Yes.”

“Your dad is on a business trip, so these days you’ve been staying at a hotel, right?”

The shell was cut open. Xu Jue admitted everything: “Right.”

“Yesterday there was a video that went viral in the WeChat group all night…”

“The motel where I was staying, someone jumped off the building. The person in charge notified us the place was closed.” Xu Jue picked up the thread, “I couldn’t find suitable lodging for the moment.”

Chen Qian paused the interrogation. He was thirsty, got up to get water from the kitchen. Passing by Xu Jue, he asked: “When you can’t recite the English text during a spot check, do you also get punished to stand for half a day like you are now?”

Xu Jue argued back: “When have I ever been punished to stand?”

Chen Qian said: “Then sit down already.”

The Chinese expert who scored 141 repeatedly lost his language skills in front of Chen Qian, choked into speechlessness, and could only yield and submit under the other person’s eyes that held a hidden smile.

While getting water, Chen Qian took out the boxed milk he had forgotten in the pot during the day. The milk had already cooled, but Chen Qian remembered the warmth of Xu Jue getting up early to buy him breakfast.

Beyond that, today at the hot pot restaurant Xu Jue hadn’t let him touch a single whiff of the seafood area, not even a seashell or a shrimp head.

On the way back, Xu Jue had always walked on the outer side of the road, giving him the side that was less likely to get rained on, even though the coral fleece jacket on Xu Jue that got soaked was his.

The ointment was also very effective. After only two applications, the wound was no longer oozing pus. He didn’t know how Xu Jue, who was extremely lopsided in English, had learned about this imported product.

Thinking of the ointment, Chen Qian opened the map on his phone and checked the distance from Honglian Motel to the art studio. There was a stretch of road that was a food street, including many affordable fast food restaurants. After class at the studio, passing through here to solve dinner before returning to the motel was the optimal route choice.

And Yi’an Plaza, where imported ointment could be bought, was far more than half a stretch away from the motel, the studio, or the food street, not to mention the “bought it on the way” situation Xu Jue described.

Unless Xu Jue had specifically made a detour to buy it.

Actually none of it seemed like deliberate flattery. Chen Qian couldn’t sort out the reason within, but the one thing he could be certain of was that Xu Jue was nothing like what his mother described.

Chen Qian put away his phone, pulled out another cup from the wall cabinet, washed it clean, filled it with water and brought it out, setting it in front of Xu Jue.

“I have a water cup here.” Xu Jue set down the photography magazine he was flipping through and pointed to the thermos on the coffee table.

Chen Qian didn’t care about his water cup, trophy cup, or beaker. None of them compared to the wide mouth ceramic cup he had just washed clean: “This is more convenient at home.”

Xu Jue thought convenience was only convenient for the moment, and it would be better if Chen Qian put him up for one more night.

“You’re living outside, your mom has no objections?” Chen Qian asked.

He had deliberately poured Xu Jue steaming hot water, aiming to delay the time Xu Jue stayed in the living room, giving himself enough time to resolve all his confusions.

Xu Jue held the cup, and indeed didn’t easily take a sip: “I told her I’m staying at dad’s place, she won’t say anything.”

“Then if your dad found out you’re actually drifting around outside, would he say anything?”

The word drifting sounded very subtle. In a nice way it was carefree, in a bleak way it was vagrancy. Xu Jue was neither: “I’m eating well, drinking well, sleeping well, where am I drifting?”

Chen Qian hit where it hurt: “Compared to your little brother?”

This question was like hot water splashing out from the rim of a cup, landing on the back of the hand and pulling up a slight burning sensation. Not strongly aggressive, but hard to ignore.

Chen Qian pulled out a tissue and wiped Xu Jue’s hand: “Set it aside for now, drink it later.”

Xu Jue knew his bad roots couldn’t be hidden in front of Chen Qian anymore. He had reined them in for so many years, forced to stitch together a satisfying outer garment to play the good brother and good stepson. His mother was satisfied with this appearance of his. Only Chen Qian tore it open, looked at him, listened to him speak.

He vented the unhappiness of eight years since Ding Xuezhou was born, his annoyance at being the proud loner in a seemingly harmonious family, his regret at not grasping the choice to live with his dad when he was little.

“I just won’t accept it,” Xu Jue poured out tonight’s phone call to Chen Qian, “Ding Xuezhou wants to throw a party then throw a party, he let those classmates stay overnight in my room and he’s in the right? Mom just indulges him to the point of no return. He wants to pour drinks into my trophy and she lets him, he wants to paint on my wall with pigments and she lets him. Now mom is even asking where the glass cabinet key is, wanting to take out the models I painstakingly assembled for them to ruin!”

Chen Qian remembered how neat and serious Xu Jue was when installing the coat rack for him, not to mention models with tens of thousands of parts. Anyone would turn red with anger.

He listened patiently, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. When Xu Jue finally stopped talking and glanced at him seeking validation, Chen Qian raised both hands and cupped Xu Jue’s face.

Like coaxing the wronged puppy at the neighbor grandma’s house.

“Does your brother have any trophies? Go back and pour instant noodle broth into his trophy.”

“He doesn’t have any damn trophies! He’s got several children’s rinse cups hoarded up though.”

“Then master who scored 141 in Chinese and full marks in physics, take his watercolor pens and grade his homework?”

“If I had that kind of time can’t I memorize a couple more words?”

“Or you could throw away all the toys in his Kinder Surprise eggs, let him be disappointed when he eats them.”

The more Xu Jue listened the more something felt off: “Is this how you educate people?”

Chen Qian used the web between his thumb and index finger to hold Xu Jue’s jaw and rubbed it back and forth: “I’m not your parent, not your teacher, and not a certified psychologist. What qualification do I have to educate people?”

Those hands that had applied body lotion rubbed the fragrance all over Xu Jue’s face. He was dazed, not even making a move to resist: “Then what are you doing?”

“I told you, coaxing you.” Chen Qian lowered his hands, “You disdain retaliation, and can’t be bothered to pursue the matter, you just want to defend your position. It was the same when the homeroom teacher lectured you last time, and the same when you argued with your family this time.”

Those comforting hands left his face, and Xu Jue felt somewhat reluctant, but he couldn’t deny that his emotions had been completely soothed.

He had originally wanted validation, but Chen Qian didn’t judge his right or wrong, purely analyzing his psychology, so fitting and concrete that he couldn’t help but agree with the other person.

“Xu Jue,” Chen Qian called him back to attention, “if you don’t want to hand your things over to others, then before deciding to go home, take your things out.”

Taking his things out meant he had to find a stable place to stay. Xu Jue couldn’t manage that for the moment: “I haven’t found suitable lodging yet.”

The wide mouth ceramic cup on the coffee table was no longer steaming. Chen Qian picked it up and put it in Xu Jue’s hand: “The study bed is empty anyway.”

The temperature transmitted through the cup to his palm was distinct and comfortable, replacing the burning pain from the hot water splashing on the back of his hand just now. Xu Jue asked somewhat uncertainly: “You mean you want to put me up?”

“Or else why would I bother adding a cup for you?” Chen Qian got up and left his seat, a corner of his sleeping robe fluttering lightly past Xu Jue’s knee, “sleepy, going to bed, we’ll set ground rules when there’s time.”