Lovely Allergen - Chap 60
Yue Zhishi rested in the apartment the last few days a bit too well — he originally didn’t really lack sleep to begin with, and yet Song Yu turned him into someone with the habits of a long sleeper.
Knowing Yue Zhishi had a general education class at 10am, Song Yu got up at 7:30 and went out to the breakfast stalls outside the apartment’s neighbourhood, buying the osmanthus wine flavoured egg soup and fish porridge noodles Yue Zhishi liked. It was already 8am by the time he got back; he put down the breakfast items and entered Yue Zhishi’s room, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair all fluffed up and messy, Yue Zhishi was still sleeping deeply, hugging his pillow, and completely didn’t sense someone had come into his room.
“Le Le,” Song Yu softly called, his voice so soft it clearly wouldn’t cause a reaction. He bent over, leaning closely next to his ear. “Time to get up.”
Yue Zhishi shifted faintly, and his eyes squinted like a young baby chick. He released some vague noises through his nose before he flipped over, taking the pillow in his arms with him, and continued sleeping with his face towards the wall.
There was nothing Song Yu could do — it was still early, so he planned on letting Yue Zhishi continue sleeping. Picking up Yue Zhishi’s arm, he squeezed out a bit of the allergic rash salve onto his fingers and lightly smeared it onto the area where the rash had been. After a few days of the salve, the rash had already mostly disappeared.
“Don’t lick me… Cotton Candy, get out….”
Song Yu didn’t know if he should laugh or cry once he heard Yue Zhishi’s mumbles, and yet he found him too cute. He lifted up Yue Zhishi’s arm after finishing with the salve and kissed the palm of his hand.
Yue Zhishi started to mumble again, as expected. “Go away, I want to sleep…” He flipped again, his face now facing the ceiling, and a piece of hair on his forehead that’d been pressed down now drifted straight up — it made him look a bit silly.
Song Yu reached out and pushed it down for him, but that chunk of hair was more stubborn than Yue Zhishi himself. He tried pushing it down several times, but it continued to stand back up. He was just about to get up and collect all the things Yue Zhishi was going to need to take to class, and then he heard Yue Zhishi murmuring out gege.
What dream was he having now.
Supporting himself with one hand on the blanket, Song Yu bent over again, wanting to hear Yue Zhishi sleep-talking. Except Yue Zhishi didn’t continue, merely dropping back into his deep sleep. The shape of his lips was very pretty, the colour of them a pink blushing almost to red; combined with his curly, light-coloured hair and pale skin, he looked almost like an Adonis from one of those Middle Ages oil paintings. In mythology, someone like him was often portrayed as purely innocent and romantic to arouse desire from others. Song Yu very much identified with that desire, and so he lowered his head and kissed Yue Zhishi’s lips.
His kiss lingered, and yet it was a peaceful kiss. It was a simple meeting of lips without a layer of heavy desire — like someone in prison kissing an unrestrained skylark passing by the edge of his window.
After standing up, Song Yu lightly adjusted the hair on Yue Zhishi’s forehead. The cell phone next to Yue Zhishi’s pillow suddenly rang; it was his alarm, and the deeply slumbering Yue Zhishi wrinkled his eyebrows, groping around everywhere to find his phone without even bothering to crack open his eyes. Song Yu helpfully stuffed the phone into his hand. “Here.”
Yue Zhishi still didn’t open his eyes. He held the phone with one hand, and he used his other hand’s index finger to randomly poke at the screen, poking until he hit the button to turn off the alarm. The noise stopped, and he immediately fell back into sleep.
Song Yu felt both helpless and amused at the same time; he decided to let him sleep until he was happy, so he lay down, quietly gazing at him. He lay there until 9am, and he woke Yue Zhishi by brushing a finger around his neck. Yue Zhishi’s neck was extremely sensitive — he’d curl away at the slightest touch. Song Yu knew where he was weakest, and he hadn’t want to use it until the very last moment.
Sure enough, Yue Zhishi squiggled around a few times like an earthworm. He was finally awake.
“That was too much.” His voice was low and grumbly.
Song Yu said, very sternly, “If I didn’t do that, then you’ll probably be given a demerit point.”
Only then did Yue Zhishi remember he had a class that morning — he immediately patted himself on the face, flipped off the bed and rapidly cleaned up. Drops of water were still all over his face by the time he ran out of the bathroom.
“Dry your face.” Song Yu stood up from the bed. “No need to rush, it’ll only take us a few minutes by car. We still have plenty of time.”
Yue Zhishi flung his head around a few times, his movements no different from Cotton Candy’s after he was given a bath. But then he ran to stand in front of Song Yu and hooked his arms around his neck, saying, “I like the toothpaste you have here. It tastes like jasmine.”
“Does it?” Song Yu felt like there was no difference between toothpastes.
Yue Zhishi gave him a kiss, telling him the answer.
It didn’t matter what kind of person the prisoner was; after being treated so gently and tenderly, the skylark would still happily, fervently twitch its wings and gift him a soft feather in return.
His tiptoed feet returning back to the ground, Yue Zhishi observed Song Yu’s eyes — the contours of his face were stained with damp, as if he was within the morning fog. “Doesn’t it taste like jasmine?”
Every time he finished kissing, he would always look delighted with himself; he even thought he hid his delight well, as if Yue Zhishi truly thought he was a master at love. Song Yu saw right through his little game, and the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curve upwards.
“What are you smiling about?” Yue Zhishi blinked.
“You won’t be able to taste it that way.” Song Yu grasped his waist, easing him backwards, and he very gently pushed Yue Zhishi against the wall. Yue Zhishi’s chest was pressed down by Song Yu’s, and his heart was running so quickly — he once again experienced the physiological illusion of his breathing being constricted, and it felt completely different from when he went to kiss Song Yu himself. Losing his ability to act independently felt both dangerous and seductive.
Song Yu tightened the arms wrapped around his waist, and he lowered his head, covering his lips with his own.
If the skylark hadn’t left that feather behind, then the prisoner wouldn’t have desired to keep that bird with him.
Easily, languidly, he broke through Yue Zhishi’s line of defence. In between their thin breaths, the sensations of moisture, softness, slick teeth — they all merged together with the aroma of mint mixed with jasmine, and it was like an intricate chemical reaction in slow motion, taking away their resistance and ability to breathe.
Yue Zhishi’s face burned from the slight sound of sucking. It was almost as if Song Yu was leisurely, methodically sampling an exquisite appetiser, and his actions made Yue Zhishi’s lack of experience and immaturity all the more apparent.
Sensing Yue Zhishi’s weakening, Song Yu stifled his thoughts of going further and released him.
Both of Yue Zhishi’s cheeks and his neck were flushed from embarrassment. His lips were still glistening, and his heart had yet to return back to normal. He leaned against the wall, trying his best to calm his breathing.
“I managed to taste it.” Song Yu was composed to the point he could speak without shame, and he stretched out a hand to wipe Yue Zhishi’s wet lips. “The jasmine flavour’s very sweet.”
He might’ve been embarrassed, but the train of Yue Zhishi’s thoughts seemed to be a bit different from other people. He squared his shoulders. “So you’re more satisfied with a… kiss like that, right?” He wasn’t able to force out the words ‘french kiss’.
Song Yu stared at him for a little while, and he was suddenly no longer as relaxed. He turned serious, as if he was saying something extremely important.
“It’s not like that. I’m already very happy with whatever actions of love you find the courage to do. You can’t measure the things we do by whether I’m satisfied with them or not. You don’t need to please anyone, understand?”
Yue Zhishi pursed his lips, looking as though he understood, but he still persisted in saying, “But I want you to be satisfied by the things I do. In your heart, I… want to have a higher score.”
Song Yu stroked his cheek. “I know. But you don’t need to.”
Activities such as that would admittedly please Song Yu, but Yue Zhishi was too innocent; it would be very easy for others to take advantage of his habit of doing things in exchange for getting into their good graces. In order to stop Yue Zhishi from falling into a misconception about what he needed to give in this relationship, Song Yu spoke bluntly and straightforwardly for once.
“To me, you already have full marks. Even if you don’t do anything at all, you will still have a perfect score.”
Yue Zhishi’s heart abruptly jumped wildly — it felt like there was a small rabbit hopping desperately in his chest.
“Then… what if I turn in an empty paper?” He looked at Song Yu, asking a very childish question. “Will I still have a perfect score?”
“Mn.”
“Then what if I cheat?”
“How would you cheat?”
Yue Zhishi hugged his neck, smiling very sweetly. “I’d bribe the exam proctor and have a good relationship with the teacher. That way I’d get 101 points.
While his self-control was still operating, Song Yu lifted his wrist and showed Yue Zhishi the watch he’d given him. “Being late for class will still get your points deducted.”
“Okay, Teacher Song.” Yue Zhishi drooped his head, crestfallen, and decided to hate going to class for three seconds.
But he was able to complete another heroic feat: he managed to eat breakfast inside the obsessed-with-cleanliness Song Yu’s car, and he even managed to get Song Yu to finish the osmanthus egg soup he wasn’t able to drink. Luckily Song Yu drove; Yue Zhishi rushed into the classroom at 9:59am and sat next to Jiang Yufan.
“You wouldn’t have gone home, right?” Jiang Yufan didn’t know about the apartment. “Uncle and auntie drove you over so early? Or did you take the subway?”
“My ge.” Yue Zhishi circled around his question.
“Do you feel any better? You still have a fever?” Jiang Yufan asked again.
The professor came in at that moment, and Yue Zhishi shook his head, lowering his voice. “I was fine by yesterday.”
The doors closed by the professor were pushed open once again, Shen Mi entering two minutes late. Yue Zhishi glanced at him, feeling he didn’t look right. Jiang Yufan nudged his shoulder. “Shen Mi hasn’t seemed okay the last two days. He drank a lot, and I saw him sitting on the steps by himself when I was walking around the sports ground with my girlfriend.”
“Why was he drinking?” Yue Zhishi curiously asked.
“I asked him later on WeChat, and he said it was something to do with his family. He said it wasn’t important, and even told me not to tell you.” Jiang Yufan didn’t think that was a good idea. “As friends, it’s necessary to take care of each other.”
Yue Zhishi felt his words were very logical, so he sent Shen Mi a sticker of a doggy being patted on its head. Since Shen Mi hadn’t wanted to tell him, Yue Zhishi thought he wouldn’t want him to ask either.
And as expected, five minutes later, Shen Mi replied with a silly looking sticker and nothing else.
Yue Zhishi was pretty skilled with the content of this particular general education class, and he didn’t need to spend a lot of effort when listening. His notes were quickly well-written, and after just the first half of the class, three people had already come over to ask for his notes. Yue Zhishi sent over a copy of his word document and then sprawled onto his desk to rest for a while.
As soon as he closed his eyes, he would remember how it felt as Song Yu kissed him, and his heart would quicken, unable to be controlled. It made him almost afraid to close his eyes.
“Hey, I hear our university’s about to put on an arts festival. Are you going to participate?” Once the words left his lips, Jiang Yufan felt Yue Zhishi was definitely going to be dragged in — just with his looks, all the seniors in his faculty were going to fight over him. “What kind of event do you like?”
“Are there a lot?” Yue Zhishi was a bit curious. “I haven’t even heard.”
Jiang Yufan forwarded a WeChat message to him. Yue Zhishi pulled out his phone, but the first thing he saw was a message from Song Yu, saying he was going to head over to the law faculty and have lunch with him. Immediately, Yue Zhishi forgot everything else in his joy, and the message Jiang Yufan had sent him was thrown to the back of his mind.
Jiang Yufan stared at him. “Which one are you interested in? How come you’re so happy, the corners of your mouth are almost high enough to pluck the moon out of the sky.”
“What? Interested in what?” Yue Zhishi mumbled to himself quietly, “I’m not interested in anyone at all.”
“Aiyo.” Jiang Yufan laughed at him. “You’re definitely going to be dragged to be a model. Being born handsome is a crime by itself.”
The professor returned back to the classroom, and their mismatched conversation halted. Yue Zhishi was very focused during class, not looking at his phone at all, and he was still organising his notes on his laptop by the time the professor finished the second half of the class.
“I’m not going to eat lunch at the cafeteria with you today.” Jiang Yufan quickly packed up his bag. “I promised to go eat crab meat pot with my girlfriend.”
Yue Zhishi was focused on his laptop screen, and he spared a bit of his attention to reply, “All right, you dude who forgets his friends once he has a girlfriend…”
He’d just finished speaking when Yue Zhishi sharply woke up. “Girlfriend?” He didn’t even bother saying goodbye to Jiang Yufan, who was already running away, and stuffed all his things into his bag, turning on his phone. He immediately saw Song Yu’s messages.
[Gege: Tell me when you finish class.]
[Gege: Do you want some roasted chestnuts? Some place is selling them.]
[Gege: I’m heading over.]
Yue Zhishi headed out with the flow of people with his head lowered the entire way, wanting to type. He’d just typed out two characters when he received a new message.
[Gege: Don’t look at your phone while you’re walking. No need to reply, just come out — I’m waiting for you.]
Someone might’ve thought Song Yu had installed an eyeball next to him just to watch him. Yue Zhishi turned his head, making sure Song Yu truly wasn’t behind him.
Song Yu understood him too well. With just a simple ‘currently typing…’, he was able to guess what he was doing.
The flow of people swept him along until he reached the entrance of the classroom building. It was a noisy and rowdy place, and Yue Zhishi thought he’d have to search for a while — but as soon as he lifted his head, he saw Song Yu standing underneath the Chinese parasol trees. He gave Yue Zhishi a very faint smile, and when their eyes met, he walked towards him.
Even though Yue Zhishi hadn’t replied to him, Song Yu still bought some roasted chestnuts anyway. They were still warm.
“They smell so good.” Opening the package, Yue Zhishi glanced inside. Every single one of the chestnuts were round and bulging, and fragrant, sweet yellow flesh was exposed from the little cracks on them. He strolled closely next to Song Yu, their arms grazing against each other very intimately. “How’d you know I was still inside? What if I’d left already?”
“I guessed you might be asking questions or finishing up your notes.” Song Yu paused, and then he said, “Plus, Shen Mi just came out. He came over and told me you were still inside.”
He hadn’t said only just that. He’d even congratulated him on getting together with Yue Zhishi, the words coming out entirely against his will. “You need to treat him better, don’t forget how to do that just because you have him now.” When Song Yu asked him how he’d known, he pointed at him. “Look, I managed to trick it out of you.”
“Even an idiot would be able to tell. Don’t take me for an idiot. He didn’t come back to school for three days straight, and he was like a completely different person as soon as he came back. He was almost bubbling over with happiness. You think I wouldn’t be able to tell just by seeing how happy he was? But don’t worry, I’m not foolish enough to expose my loss. I’d just lose my own face.”
Song Yu watched Shen Mi, not saying a single word. He watched as a childish expression covered his face, as he pretended to be open-minded and generous.
“Even though you’re the person I least want to beg in this entire world, still — please don’t tell him what I said to you that night. Just pretend I was also suffering from a fever that day and was spouting nonsense. He won’t feel burdened if he doesn’t know.”
He said to Song Yu at the end, “You’re definitely a lot clearer than I am about whether this road is easy or not. Please make sure he doesn’t suffer so much. I’m giving up now, by myself. It’s a lot easier to be friends. Luckily I didn’t confess.”
Song Yu felt like he was trying to boast, and yet he didn’t want to expose him. Before Shen Mi left, Song Yu even thanked him.
“Don’t thank me, it was hard enough for me to catch an opportunity to educate senior Song Yu. I really didn’t expect this at all. This might be the highlight of my entire life.”
He was still a guy who liked running his mouth, even at the end.
A smile escaped from Song Yu — he, too, never expected he would one day say thank you and smoothly reconcile with a rival.
It felt like the entire world was finally revealing its inconceivable nature after getting together with Yue Zhishi.
“He didn’t say anything else, did he?” Yue Zhishi looked at Song Yu. “Jiang Yufan said he hasn’t seemed right lately, that he hasn’t seemed too happy.”
Song Yu hummed and said, “Maybe just a bad period in his life.”
“I hope he can get out of it soon,” Yue Zhishi sincerely said. He saw Song Yu wearing his AirPods with a lift of his head. “Are you listening to music?”
“Mn.”
“I want to listen too.”
Song Yu pulled out one of them and placed it into Yue Zhishi’s ear. When he saw his slightly reddened ear, Song Yu kept remembering how he looked as he stood on the road of love, the first time he’d kissed him.
Yue Zhishi adjusted the earbud with a hand, continuing to walk closely next to Song Yu. An English song was playing, and the melody of the guitar was beautiful.
In the past, Song Yu always used to wear his earphones by himself, immersed in his own world. Yet now, he was willing to share a piece of himself with Yue Zhishi. Every single person standing within this large campus was an individual, all by themselves — they were like the many isolated islands in the vast ocean. But Song Yu and Yue Zhishi were different: their bodies didn’t touch each other, and they looked as though they had no connection with each other — and yet they were able to hear the same music only they themselves could hear.
This connection was hidden, yet belonged solely to them; it was like a special ocean current, swirling around two small, ordinary islands. They were no longer alone.
The cafeteria was full of people, and Song Yu didn’t want him to line up, asking Yue Zhishi what he wanted to eat. Song Yu found a table, telling him to wait there for him, and he went to buy food by himself. He went too far — five metres, ten metres and then at a certain distance away, the earbud in Yue Zhishi’s ear went quiet. The sounds of his surroundings instantly poured in, just like a tidal wave.
Their ocean current was cut through.
“Le Le.”
Hearing a familiar voice, Yue Zhishi raised his head and saw Nan Jia, who was holding a plate of food. “What a coincidence. Did you guys just finish class too?”
“Mn. I’m eating lunch with Song Yu.” He intentionally didn’t use the words gege.
“Really? Then do you mind if I join?” Nan Jia smiled. “It’s a bit hard to find a spot.”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
Nan Jia sat diagonally across from Yue Zhishi, leaving empty the spaces directly across and next to Yue Zhishi for Song Yu. “I’ve been so busy today, I haven’t had a chance to even drink water the whole morning.” She threw the straw into her cup and took a large sip of her drink.
Curious, Yue Zhishi asked, “Why are you so busy?”
“It’s that arts festival. I’m helping out with both the debate and the fashion show. Our faculty entered all six events last year, but we only managed to get into two finals. Everyone wants a better result this year, so they’re all working hard.”
Yue Zhishi thought of what Jiang Yufan said during class. “So there are six events.”
“Yup, but the debate is the most competitive. You know our university is famous for its debating teams — too many people have signed up for this event. A lot of fourth year graduates or postgraduate students are planning on competing. But the other events are really amazing too.” Nan Jia’s eyes widened slightly at this point. “By the way, Le Le, do you want to join in? I can help you with whichever event you want to join. Would you like to sing, dance, act in a play or debate? Or you can go be a model for our faculty’s dressmaking team.”
“Ah?” Yue Zhishi thought for a bit. “By being a model, do you mean someone will design my clothes?”
“That’s right. A team of people will design the clothes, and then there’ll be a grand exhibition show. I feel like you’ll definitely look great on the walkway.”
Compared to walking a fashion show, Yue Zhishi was a bit more interested in designing and debating. He originally hadn’t been considering participating in the arts festival, but now he started to wonder.
Afraid of interrupting him, Nan Jia didn’t continue speaking once she saw Yue Zhishi lost in his thoughts. Unexpectedly, only thirty seconds later, Yue Zhishi came out of his daze and abruptly said, “My ge’s back.”
The invisible ocean current between them once again connected, the sound of the guitar having changed to a piano, slowly flowing.
Nan Jia looked up — Song Yu really was back. He stood only a few metres away.
“The telepathy between you guys is a bit too strong,” she couldn’t help but sigh.
Yue Zhishi looked over as well, and the moment he met Song Yu’s eyes, a smile appeared on his face. The music starting again was a hint, and it was also as if it was a hug, given to him in Song Yu’s place after he returned.
“No, we’re just cheating,” he said, smiling to Nan Jia.
The author has something to say:
To me, Song Yu is the best, Le Le is the best and they’re the best for each other.
Song Yu’s charm is in his maturity and restraint. I still stubbornly believe the older person shouldn’t take advantage of the younger person’s trust and already established emotions to ask for love. To me, the older person would lose their charm. If the age gap was larger, then guiding the younger person a certain way under the guise of ‘taking initiative’ is even more unacceptable.
The younger person in this story may be young, but he still has the right to take steps out of his own free will. Song Yu is protecting Le Le’s free will and ability to make his own choices, and isn’t asking for anything in return.
PS: the osmanthus wine flavoured egg soup is made from whisked eggs and osmanthus flowers, almost like a dessert. You can pretty much ignore the alcohol content hhhh of course, you shouldn’t drive after drinking, don’t drink if you’re driving — or else your relatives will have their faces full of tears.
