Reply to Keats - Chap 57
57. Mount Fuji Is Not Far
News of Zhao Shengge being attacked on Ting Island spread quickly. That night, Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian both called him.
Zhao Shengge assured them he was safe and would be returning to Haishi soon. Upon hearing this, Tan Youming went off to play video games, while Shen Zongnian stayed on the line.
“You still have something to say?”
Shen Zongnian replied, “Don’t you?”
Zhao Shengge was silent for a moment. “No.”
“…” Shen Zongnian said, “I heard Chen Wan locked you in the secure compartment?”
“You know?” Zhao Shengge said. “Chen Wan confessed to me.”
“?”
Zhao Shengge confided, “But we’re not together yet.”
“?”
“He’s pursuing me now.”
Shen Zongnian hung up.
Maybe the incident had shaken Chen Wan. When Li Shenghui hosted a dinner to apologize to the group, Zhao Shengge stepped out to take a work call. He was gone a little long, and Chen Wan came out with a tense expression. He looked like someone trying to grasp the moon reflected in water, each step finding no solid ground.
Zhao Shengge saw him from a distance and didn’t call out. He simply crossed his arms and watched quietly.
When Chen Wan wasn’t smiling, he looked truly cold. As if, if he didn’t see Zhao Shengge again in the next moment, he might just reach for that Beretta.
Only when Chen Wan’s expression turned grim did Zhao Shengge approach from behind and tap him on the shoulder. “Looking for me?”
Chen Wan realized a bit too late that he might be coming on too strong and worried Zhao Shengge would think he was being clingy. So he said, “I just came out to get some fresh air.”
Zhao Shengge lifted his chin slightly. “There’s a rooftop for that, isn’t there?”
“…” Chen Wan didn’t want Zhao Shengge to think he was being awkward or dishonest. He gave a helpless smile and told the truth. “I came out to find you.”
He quickly explained, “I didn’t mean to follow you. I was just afraid something might happen.”
Meeting Zhao Shengge’s calm gaze, he said seriously, “If it made you uncomfortable—”
“It didn’t.” Zhao Shengge stood very close, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But…”
“Hmm?”
Maybe it was the alcohol, but Zhao Shengge felt a little stifled and loosened his tie. Chen Wan’s fingers twitched, wanting to help, but he held back.
“Chen Wan,” Zhao Shengge said, “you don’t have to be so polite when you’re pursuing me.”
Chen Wan was good in every way: attentive, considerate, gentle, and loved him with unwavering devotion. But he was too polite—always overly careful, constantly putting Zhao Shengge’s feelings first.
But Zhao Shengge didn’t need that.
“Huh?” Chen Wan still found it a little unreal.
Zhao Shengge rarely saw that expression on his face—so vivid, so full of life.
He looked at him intently and said, “I prefer someone who takes the initiative.”
Chen Wan immediately volunteered, “I’m very proactive.”
“Really?” Zhao Shengge gave him a doubtful look. “Doesn’t seem that way.”
Chen Wan said firmly, “I am.”
“Can you tell me more? What else do you like?”
That earnest and passionate gaze, full of determination to be the best, startled and softened something in Zhao Shengge’s heart. It was as if, no matter how high the bar or how difficult the standard, Chen Wan would fight to be first.
The latent arrogance in Zhao Shengge’s nature flared up again, wild and restless.
He looked at Chen Wan for a moment, then leaned in slightly, his lips hovering near his ear—brushing it ever so lightly before pulling back. His voice was low and deep. “Maybe I like something a bit more real.”
Chen Wan froze, his ears turning red.
Zhao Shengge gave him time to process it. But when no response came, he didn’t wait any longer. He simply pulled Chen Wan into his arms and began teaching him how to cheat, step by step. “For example, if you want to call me, then call. If you want to text me, text me whenever you want.”
“You can make requests too.”
Chen Wan’s shoulders twitched slightly. Suddenly wrapped in Zhao Shengge’s warm, pleasant scent, his expression turned dazed, a little doubtful. He seemed surprised that someone as rational and composed as Zhao Shengge, someone with the perfect career-driven personality, could actually be clingy and needy.
But Zhao Shengge looked at him with certainty. “This is what I like.”
Chen Wan thought for a moment, then said seriously, “Okay. Sure.”
Zhao Shengge felt he was being very obedient, so he lowered his head and brushed a light kiss across his lips as a form of encouragement.
Chen Wan looked dazed. He felt a kind of happiness he had never known since birth. He didn’t understand why he had been granted it.
This unreal, uncertain happiness compelled him to ask, “Zhao Shengge, you must have a lot of people pursuing you, right?”
“No,” Zhao Shengge glanced at him and said, “I don’t let people pursue me.”
“Then why let me?”
Why was it someone as ordinary as Chen Wan who got this chance? He truly wanted to know. He was just one of the countless people gazing up at Mount Fuji, yet he had somehow touched a handful of snow from its summit. Was it because he had been the most persistent, the most devoted, the most fearless?
Zhao Shengge thought for a moment and said, “That’s a question I can only answer with time.”
Chen Wan pressed his lips together and smiled faintly. In a soft voice, he said, “It doesn’t feel real.” In fact, not even in his dreams had this moment appeared.
Zhao Shengge looked at him for a long time, then said, “Then let’s make it a little more real.” And with that, he leaned down and kissed Chen Wan deeply.
Chen Wan could hardly breathe. He closed his eyes and carefully raised his arms to hug Zhao Shengge in return, like holding a handful of snow: cautious, restrained. It was his first time truly touching snow, and he didn’t know the right strength or posture to use.
He wanted to hold tight because he truly longed for it and had come so far. But he didn’t dare to squeeze too hard, afraid the snow would melt and become nothing more than cold water in his palms or foam in a dream.
But Zhao Shengge’s forceful kiss seemed to tell him: Mount Fuji is not far, and the moon really can be yours.
Chen Wan felt his heart overflow, filled with a sweet sort of ache. He finally understood that when a dream you never dared to hope for suddenly comes true, it’s not just sweet, but also tinged with sourness, laced with bitterness. Yet the aftertaste lingers, winding through your chest, making you want to cry.
In the sixteen years he had watched Zhao Shengge from afar, Chen Wan had never once felt the urge to cry. But on this night, as Zhao Shengge kissed him, he felt a twinge in his nose.
He didn’t cry. He only clutched Zhao Shengge’s clothes carefully, yet tightly, as if hoping the snow would remain in his hands forever, hoping the moon could be embedded in his heart.
Zhao Shengge felt Chen Wan’s body trembling slightly, his emotions subtly off. He stroked his back, patiently waiting for him to calm down, and asked, “Having trouble adjusting?”
Chen Wan pressed his lips together, feeling rather embarrassed.
Zhao Shengge said, “I can give you some time to adjust, but it can’t be like before.”
“Hmm?”
“Chen Wan,” Zhao Shengge looked at him, “is your way of liking someone always the same for everyone, never overstepping boundaries?”
Chen Wan opened his mouth, but had no words in his defense.
Zhao Shengge said calmly, “What you’ve given me is nothing more than a freebie.” Be it with Zhuo Zhixuan, Tan Youming, or just anyone at all.
He reached out and gently touched Chen Wan’s cheek, as if puzzled and faintly reproachful. Clicking his tongue, he murmured, “Your face is so soft, but your heart is so hard.”
“You’re not a freebie!” Chen Wan frowned, sighing inwardly, but didn’t know where to begin. After a moment, he tentatively tugged at Zhao Shengge’s sleeve, trying to comfort him, to make a promise. “From now on, I’ll treat you well.”
Feeling that wasn’t enough, he added, “Super well. The best.”
Zhao Shengge gave no reply.
The moon hung just behind him. To Chen Wan, he looked like a god who had descended from far away. And the god said, “Chen Wan, actually—”
“I don’t want what you give to others.”
He lifted his chin slightly, his expression almost unfeeling. “If you want to pursue me, you have to give me what you can’t give anyone else.”
Chen Wan was bewitched and said, “Zhao Shengge, whatever you want, you can take it from me.”
Zhao Shengge looked at him, expression unreadable, then turned his gaze away. “Just empty words.”
Chen Wan smiled again, but in the depths of his eyes lingered a persistent darkness.
Li Shenghui had sent someone to look for Zhao Shengge, so Zhao Shengge pulled Chen Wan into a corner to hide. Chen Wan turned to shield him from view. In the shadows, Zhao Shengge kissed him again.
***
What Zhao Shengge said that night, before leaving the island, filled Chen Wan with guilt.
Love that had been repressed for years now surged like an awakening volcano. Unfortunately, Chen Wan was well-versed in unrequited love—this was the first time he had ever tried to pursue someone.
He turned to Zhuo Zhixuan for help and nearly scared him to death.
“What did I say! What did I say! What did I say!” Zhuo Zhixuan was overwhelmed, unsure what exactly he was being emotional about. After a moment, all he could ask was, “Well? Did you do it!”
“…” Chen Wan explained, “We’re not together yet. I’m still chasing him.”
“…Oh.” After a pause, Zhuo Zhixuan asked sincerely, “Is this some kind of new dating style?” He had been through countless romances and had never heard of such a thing.
“…” Chen Wan suddenly said, “Zhuo Zhixuan.”
The other end fell silent.
Chen Wan lowered his eyes and said softly, “I want to go to Monica and quit.”
“I’ll go with you.” Zhuo Zhixuan thought for a moment, then asked, “Are you going to tell him?”
“No.” Even though several days had passed since leaving Ting Island, Chen Wan still seemed a little dazed. He had thought about it countless times. “Why… do you think it’s me?”
“It can only be you.” Zhuo Zhixuan thought back to Chen Wan’s youth and everything that had led to this point, convinced that Zhao Shengge would never find anyone who loved him more than Chen Wan did.
“I often feel like it’s an illusion.”
“It’s not an illusion,” Zhuo Zhixuan replied immediately, firm and righteous. “Zhao Shengge is completely bewitched by you.”
“…”
“Don’t doubt it. No matter how impossible it seems to you, it’s real. All you have to do is grab it boldly. Whatever you do, I support you.”
“Zhixuan, thank you. Actually,” Chen Wan smiled, gazing out the office window at the lights of the tall buildings, his eyes pitch-black, “whether it’s real or not, I can’t let him go now.”
“……”
With his wealth of experience, Zhuo Zhixuan offered an array of strategies for pursuing someone.
***
When the second assistant entered carrying a bouquet, Zhao Shengge looked up from a week’s worth of stacked documents and raised an eyebrow.
White peonies and pink hydrangeas.
He admired them for a moment, then said, “Find a vase for me.”
The scent of peonies and hydrangeas was faint and delicate. Zhao Shengge was reminded of Chen Wan’s skin.
Chen Wan had a certain kind of magic. Every day used to feel the same for Zhao Shengge, but with Chen Wan, life and time became tangible emotions, heartbeats and memories. They became the sunset over Central, the Cantonese opera playing on the radio during a typhoon, the burning desire that surfaced in the depths of night.
Word of Zhao Shengge’s injury on Ting Island had leaked to some extent, though no one knew the full story. As a result, rumors swirled in every direction.
To put an end to it, Zhao Shengge attended a banquet in person, silencing the gossipers once and for all. The crown prince was alive and well; don’t even think about using the chaos to stir up trouble.
He hadn’t made a public appearance in a long time, so more people than usual came to toast him. After all, who knew when the reclusive Zhao Shengge would appear again?
He didn’t turn anyone away, but only sipped sparingly. He had always been a man of few words, and few dared to disturb him for long.
Chen Wan also had his own social engagements, but he kept texting Zhao Shengge throughout the evening, sending random thoughts to help pass the time.
Chen Wan: [Not done yet?]
Zhao Shengge replied neither quickly nor slowly: [Almost.]
[Does your head still hurt? You could drink some warm hangover soup.]
Zhao Shengge, who had barely drunk: [A little.]
[Should I come pick you up?]
[If it’s too late, don’t bother.]
Chen Wan sent a photo of a streetlamp outside the car window: [Already on my way.] [kitty running full speed.jpg]
Chen Wan had been drinking, so the driver was at the wheel. They soon arrived at the underground parking lot and pulled into an inconspicuous corner.
Chen Wan’s car was parked so discreetly that Zhao Shengge had to search for a while before finding it. When he opened the back door, Chen Wan looked at him with a gentle smile and reached out his hand. “Zhao Shengge.”
Zhao Shengge’s expression remained calm, and he stood still. He had originally planned to get into Chen Wan’s car in front of everyone.
But with Chen Wan smiling at him like that, eyes crinkling at the corners, Zhao Shengge still placed his hand into Chen Wan’s.
Chen Wan cupped it in his palms as if it were something precious, warming it gently.
Zhao Shengge loosened his tie and asked in a low voice, “What are you looking at?”
Chen Wan stared at him, slightly entranced, and switched to Cantonese as he softly said, “Zhao Shengge, you might not realize this, but you’re seriously good-looking.”
“……”
Zhao Shengge turned his head and let out a brief laugh—a helpless kind of laugh.
He wasn’t drunk, but his gaze lacked its usual composure. There was a kind of idle wildness to it, like a languid beast.
He looked at Chen Wan for a while, then gently pulled him onto his lap to sit face-to-face, studying him with intent seriousness.
After a few days back, Chen Wan’s hair had grown longer, giving him a kind of classical handsomeness.
Zhao Shengge suddenly recalled the many figurines he’d owned as a child, though they had all been destroyed by Zhao Maozheng.
Still, he remembered each one clearly. If Chen Wan could be his figurine, he would be the most beautiful, the most expensive, the one Zhao Shengge played with the most.
Chen Wan’s heart pounded under that indescribable gaze. He felt a little shy but allowed him to look.
Not wanting the driver to see, Chen Wan raised the partition. Zhao Shengge held his waist to keep him from moving and asked coolly, “Weren’t you sitting quite skillfully back in the secure cabin?”
“…” Chen Wan’s face turned hot.
Zhao Shengge really did treat his hand like a figurine for a while, and Chen Wan let him play with it obediently.
He gently spread Chen Wan’s right index and middle fingers, then brought them together, then apart again.
It tickled, and Chen Wan laughed.
Zhao Shengge pressed his thumb to the pads of Chen Wan’s fingers, rubbing them for a long moment. Eyes lowered, he murmured, “How come I never noticed this before?”
Chen Wan felt like he was playing with the paw of some small animal. He grabbed Zhao Shengge’s hand and said, “It’s hard to notice something that’s there.”
Zhao Shengge gave an “Oh,” and asked, “No one’s ever noticed?”
Chen Wan felt his strong heartbeat through his palm and said with a mix of amusement and exasperation, “Who would stare at my hands?”
Zhao Shengge glanced at him but said nothing.
