Deep in the Act: Chapter 31

Steam rose, making his eyes feel a bit rusty. Zhang Zhun blinked, accidentally meeting Zhen Xin’s gaze across the table. That feverish gaze, the kind that wanted to swallow him whole. He looked away, down at the steaming hot pot. It was a split pot, yin yang style. The spicy side was already boiling, while the clear broth side was still simmering lukewarm.

One red and one white pot of soup, like him and Zhen Xin. On the surface it seemed the other person had already come to a boil, while he was still stewing quietly. But actually he knew that the pot bubbling with oil was himself. Zhen Xin was the one who was still muddled and confused. That scene today, he and Zhen Xin had stayed in the restroom, staring at each other for a long time, neither speaking. It was Zhen Xin who walked toward him first, reaching to touch his eyes. “Last night you… cried?”

Zhang Zhun slapped his hand away and turned his head.

Zhen Xin couldn’t reach his face, so he traced down the curve of his jaw, circling around a neck so slender it could be grasped in one hand. Zhang Zhun allowed him. That hand passed over the hollow of his collarbone, then his flat chest, until it reached his warm belly. Zhen Xin, as if possessed, grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him forward. Zhang Zhun was certain it must be his own imagination, yet he actually felt that Zhen Xin was about to kneel down right there.

“You’re crazy!” He shoved him hard.

Zhen Xin’s back slammed into the shower fixture. The metal showerhead bent and fell off with a clang, landing headfirst on the tile floor. He hunched his neck and didn’t move for a long while. Zhang Zhun suddenly doubted his own judgment again. He stepped forward wanting to help him up, but Zhen Xin suddenly shot out a hand and grabbed his shirt collar. Those big wet eyes glared at him, sparkling. “I’m not scared!”

Zhang Zhun of course knew what he meant. Those dangerous mutual probes, those secret desperate entanglements, those seeming indifferent glances. He forcefully pulled his hand away. “I am!”

Zhen Xin seemed to feel some grievance, angrily straightening his body. But Zhang Zhun didn’t let him speak, pointing at the temporary prop door of the restroom. “This is fake. We’re filming!” It was clear he was very afraid, afraid of falling in, afraid of being discovered. “The director, the camera, your girlfriend, they’re all outside!”

Zhen Xin seemed unable to bear it. His slender eyelids grew wetter and wetter. “Damn it!” He bit his lip in grievance. “Damn it!”

His mind cleared, and he realized his own recklessness. That audacity just now, those things he had done to Zhang Zhun, at this moment made his heart ache so much it felt about to explode. He had never felt this kind of pain before. It was as if he had grown together with another person, living and breathing as one. One cut of the knife, and two places bled raw. Tears streamed down his cheekbones. He casually wiped them away, looking strangely at those liquids. He never cried. When he realized what they were, he was too ashamed and angry to look at Zhang Zhun, cursing in Mandarin. “Fuck me!”

Zhang Zhun also hadn’t expected him to cry. It felt like a blade was buried in the pit of his heart, tightening and stabbing with pain. “Zhen… Xin?” He pulled him close, lightly wiping the tears from his face. Zhen Xin dodged like a child. As he dodged, Zhang Zhun pulled him into his arms, holding him tight without a gap. He was taller than Zhang Zhun, his neck folded over Zhang Zhun’s shoulder, his whole face hiding in the crook of his neck. His tears were silent. For the first time, he released them in front of someone other than his parents. “Am I… just the biggest coward!”

“No,” Zhang Zhun slowly stroked his back like an older brother, like a mother. “You’re just confused. This film has confused both of us.” He comforted him, as if also comforting himself.

“I’m suffocating, I can’t take it,” Zhen Xin enjoyed his gentleness while sinking into his own fear. He didn’t know how in this relationship where everything was “his move first,” he had fallen to this state. Like a wild dog that had bared its belly, so vulnerable he pitied himself. “I just want to be with you!”

Want to be with you. These words were like a wedge, driven deep into Zhang Zhun’s heart. “I want to be with you.” Between a man and a woman, this is something understood with just a smile, just a glance. But for them, they exhausted all their strength, struggling until they were hoarse. “What do you mean ‘you want to be with me’?”

“Just…” Zhen Xin racked his brains but couldn’t say it. “I don’t know.”

“Go to bed? Make love?” Zhang Zhun rubbed his hair, as if throwing all caution to the wind, speaking recklessly. “Tonight we can.”

“No,” Zhen Xin denied it. “I want more. I want to get more.”

Zhang Zhun closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh from deep in his chest. “You’re too greedy…”

“Teacher Zhang, where are you from?” Feng Yun Ting interrupted his thoughts, sweet as a half melted candy, sitting close to Zhen Xin, tilting her head to lean on his arm.

The clear broth pot had come to a boil, bubbling with lively bubbles. Goji berries, cinnamon bark, and ginger slices tumbled in the milky white soup. “I’m from Sichuan,” Zhang Zhun smiled lightly. “I like it spicy.”

The clear broth pot had come to a boil, bubbling with lively bubbles. Goji berries, cinnamon bark, and ginger slices tumbled in the milky white soup. “I’m from Sichuan,” Zhang Zhun smiled lightly. “I like it spicy.”

Saying this, he lifted his chopsticks and put the lamb and beef into the spicy broth. Zhen Xin watched him through the steam, his gaze also steaming hot along with it. Feng Yun Ting had to serve the food herself. “It’s a shame Zhen Xin and I can’t eat spicy,” she pouted, looking regretful, putting spinach and crown daisy into the clear broth. “But we still manage to eat together pretty well.”

Like a casual remark, yet also like words with hidden meaning. Zhang Zhun lightly stirred his oil dipping dish. “How long… have you two been together?”

“Quite a while,” Feng Yun Ting was in high spirits, speaking in a cutesy voice as she asked Zhen Xin. “Almost a year, right?”

“Not that long,” Zhen Xin corrected her. “A bit over half a year.” He glanced at Gao Zhun guiltily. “We both have work. We don’t see each other once a month.”

“That’s exactly why it’s not easy,” Feng Yun Ting put the cooked tofu into her mouth. “I’m starting to think it’s true love!”

True love. Zhen Xin and Zhang Zhun exchanged a glance. Neither spoke. Zhang Zhun looked away first. Zhen Xin seemed a bit anxious. Under the table, he hooked his foot around Zhang Zhun’s, rubbing back and forth with his protruding ankle bone.

Zhang Zhun’s face reddened. Maybe it was from the spice. He couldn’t lift his head to face Feng Yun Ting. “Pretty good,” he murmured. “You two are pretty good.”

“Teacher Zhang, what about you?” she suddenly asked.

Zhang Zhun’s hand holding the chopsticks paused. “I…” He hadn’t wanted to say it. “I’m getting married soon. After this film wraps up.”

Feng Yun Ting’s eyes went wide. “Congratulations!” She clapped her hands playfully. “You must invite us when the time comes.”

In comparison, Zhen Xin almost had no reaction. His face, warmed by the steam, went cold. Like a child who had fallen out of favor. Just then a call came in. He saw it was Chen Zheng Sen, wiped his hands, and answered. “Eating,” his tone was sharp. “I’m free. Go ahead.” He stood up and walked out of the private room with a sour face.

Without him rubbing against him, Zhang Zhun felt the top of his foot was a bit cold. With one person missing, the atmosphere immediately dropped. He made small talk with Feng Yun Ting. “How do you have time to visit the set? Is your schedule free?”

“Teacher Zhang,” she didn’t answer his question, her demeanor seeming somewhat different. “Why were you holding his hand?” She snapped off the hot pot’s power switch. “Last night.”

Zhang Zhun was stunned, his mind a complete blank. She questioned him sharply. “If I hadn’t come, what were you planning to do?”

She used “you,” not “you two.” She was blaming him nakedly. Zhang Zhun felt shame, and also panic. He had never been as desperate as now for Zhen Xin to come back.

“Two pots of soup. Yours and mine,” she used her chopsticks to tap the edge of the pot unhurriedly. “I don’t care what’s in your pot. Don’t touch mine. Besides,” she arrogantly flicked back her long hair, “what kind of ‘pot’ is yours anyway.”

Zhang Zhun felt all the blood in his body freeze solid. The crackling red oil couldn’t melt him. He wanted to explain, wanted to retort, but couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t even find where his voice was coming from. Cold sweat seeped through his back. He was speechless.

“Alright alright, I got it,” the door opened, Zhen Xin came in talking on the phone. As soon as he entered, he sensed something was off. Feng Yun Ting still had that meticulously fake look, while Zhang Zhun’s face was deathly pale. He realized something was wrong. “Alright, we’ll talk when we get back.”

“Why is the fire off?” He pulled out his stool and sat down. This was directed at Feng Yun Ting, with a hint of interrogation.

“Afraid it would boil dry while you were gone,” she answered extremely naturally, one hand turning the power back on, the other hand under the table touching his thigh. “Waiting for you to come back to turn it on.”

Zhen Xin didn’t hold back, directly pushing her hand away. Zhang Zhun was about to stand up. “You two take your time eating. I have something…”

Zhen Xin grabbed his hand. “Eat a bit more.” Zhang Zhun didn’t dare pull his hand away. If he pulled away, it would only make things more obvious. Zhen Xin pulled at him somewhat pleadingly. “Eat a bit more.”

Zhang Zhun suddenly hated him terribly. The kind of hate that made him want to embrace him. His eyes reddened at the edges. He hung his head and sat back down, not daring to look toward Feng Yun Ting. Soon, both pots were boiling again. One red, one white. Like the Chu River and Han Border, impossible to cross. Zhang Zhun ate alone from his pot. Over there, chopsticks came in pairs. Without warning, Zhen Xin stretched his chopsticks over and picked up the glass noodles from Zhang Zhun’s pot.

Feng Yun Ting saw this and hurriedly pulled his hand. “Honey, you’ll get a stomachache!”

Zhen Xin pushed her away. “My stomach, my choice.”

He didn’t stop at one bite. Like he was making a point, he stuffed bite after bite into his mouth. Who he was putting on this show for, Zhang Zhun knew all too well. Tears were about to break free. He grabbed his coat and fled in panic. He hadn’t run two steps out of the restaurant when his phone rang. He felt Zhen Xin was driving him mad. He didn’t even look at who it was and answered. “What the hell are you calling for? If you’ve got guts, come chase after me!”

There was no sound on the phone. His steps unconsciously slowed. Just as he was about to glance at the caller number, the other end spoke. “It’s me.”

A gentle voice, as if he hadn’t heard it in a long time. Since that over the line bed scene last time. It was Xie Dan Yi.

This time it was Zhang Zhun’s turn to be speechless. In the moment of helplessness, Xie Dan Yi asked, “Alone?”

Somewhat dazed, he softly called her name. “Dan Yi…” He swallowed. He answered honestly. “I was with… a friend.”

The long street at night. In the distance were brilliant neon lights from tall buildings. Up close were dimly lit food stalls, and dirty oil flowing along the ground toward the drains. Walking alone along this small street, he seemed to be talking to himself. “How are you?”

“Not too good.” She spoke lightly.

After a pause, “I’m sorry…” he apologized. It felt like something was violently churning in his stomach, so uncomfortable he wanted to vomit.

There was also a pause on the other end. “The friend you mentioned… was it Zhen Xin?”

“He…” Zhang Zhun had never lied to her, and didn’t want to lie now. “His girlfriend came. We were having a meal together…” He felt he must be crazy to be telling her these things, but he couldn’t stop. “It’s too awful…”

Intermittent sighs came through the receiver. Xie Dan Yi’s voice suddenly grew distant, not very clear. “It’s fine. Don’t think about it. Let things take their course.” There was no resentment in her words, no emotion. Like a purely concerned friend. It made Zhang Zhun feel fragile. He suddenly missed her scent terribly, her embrace, those little flowers she arranged around the room.

“Right, it’s about to turn cold where you are. I sent you thick socks. Don’t forget to get them from Xiao Deng,” her words drew close again, warm. “The old injuries on your body, take care of yourself.”

Zhang Zhun obediently answered, “Okay.”

“I’ve been a bit busy with work lately. Might not be in touch often.”

“Okay.”

“Will you come back?” she suddenly asked.

Zhang Zhun was taken aback. She seemed to have gathered all her courage. “After this film wraps up,” her voice trembled slightly. “Will you come back?”

“I…” Zhang Zhun very much wanted to give her a definite answer, but in the end didn’t say it. “I don’t know.”

Xie Dan Yi accepted this calmly. “Alright then,” she sounded somewhat reluctant. She said, “Be in touch.”

Zhang Zhun was about to hang up when she hurriedly added, “I’ll wait for you. I mean… if you want to come back, I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

“Okay.” Zhang Zhun didn’t know what kind of mood made him agree. He put away his phone and walked forward in a daze. As he walked, he felt like someone was following behind him. He suddenly turned around. About ten meters behind him was a bright red spark.

“I chased after you,” tall, curly hair covering his eyes, a hint of HUGO perfume. “You were on the phone. I followed behind, like a stray dog,” the spark fell straight to the ground, extinguishing in a flash. “Four hundred seventy two steps.”

Zhang Zhun strode toward him, so recklessly, so impulsively. When he reached him, he slammed to a halt. It was dark. People coming and going were sparse. Yet he didn’t dare move a finger, didn’t dare embrace, didn’t dare touch. Zhen Xin gazed at him from an extremely close distance, only able to trace the lines of his brows and eyes by the weak kerosene light of a grilled cold noodle stall. Cheap light, yet the person shone brilliantly. He couldn’t help pushing him. Zhang Zhun didn’t resist. He pushed him again, pushing him all the way into the dark alley on the side of the street.

Everything was so natural, or rather, it was what they had been desperately seeking. Stepping on what might be broken plastic or rotten leaves, Zhen Xin pressed Zhang Zhun against the crumbling brick wall of an old lane. His nostrils filled with the pungent smell of scallions and garlic. Their lips seemed to have gained a soul, become enchanted, sucking together on their own, wildly entwined as if there were no tomorrow.

Zhang Zhun seemed to hear the wind, wind as loud as a train rushing past his ear. In the howling wind, Zhen Xin’s words broke into fragments. “I’ll break up with her, break up with her…”

He repeated it like an incantation. Zhang Zhun embraced him more passionately, crushed by his brute strength without measure. At this moment, they were willing to use their whole hearts to love each other, to forgive each other, even if it meant giving themselves up completely.

“Do you know what Chen Zheng Sen said?” Zhen Xin took Zhang Zhun’s powerless finger, which hung by his lips, into his mouth.

“He said we’re done for.”

“He said I’m as naive as a fool!”