Why did he like Yang Ke? What did he like about Yang Ke? When did he start liking him, and how much did he like him?
No one would be interested in these questions, and no one ever asked him, but Yu Zhinian longed to answer, so he asked himself.
But unlike addition and subtraction problems, feelings aren’t that clear-cut, and it’s even harder to write out the steps. Yu Zhinian’s feelings for Yang Ke stretched across a long time and many places, so he himself might not even have the exact answer.
After a few rounds of selection and careful thought, he felt that the answer to the third question probably dated back to when he first moved into Yang Ke’s home.
Once he settled on his answer, Yu Zhinian recorded it and resolved not to change it again.
Fourteen-year-old Yu Zhinian moved into Ning City. As soon as the typhoon passed, Yang Zhongyun arranged for some teachers from the school to come and assess his academic level at home.
The test lasted an entire afternoon, but the results weren’t great. The teachers had to repeat themselves several times for Yu Zhinian to understand what they were saying.
Around six o’clock, Secretary Xu, who was there with him, received a call from Yang Zhongyun, urging him to take Yu Zhinian to dinner, so they ended the test quickly.
As he walked out of the conference room with Secretary Xu, Yu Zhinian felt a bit down, as if he wasn’t worthy of being one of Yang Zhongyun’s sponsored students since his academics weren’t up to par.
Secretary Xu mainly handled Yang Zhongyun’s personal affairs, and his temperament was gentle, speaking in a calm, unhurried manner.
As they walked, he comforted Yu Zhinian, saying that his previous school system and curriculum were different from his new school, as was the language, so it was normal for the test results to fall short of expectations; he shouldn’t feel pressured. He also assured him that they had arranged for tutoring sessions before school started. Then he handed him a new phone, saying it was from Chairman Yang and already equipped with a Ning City SIM card.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Yang Zhongyun and Yang Ke were already waiting for him to join them for dinner.
Feeling upset, Yu Zhinian didn’t eat much.
Yang Zhongyun seemed to already know that Yu Zhinian’s test results weren’t ideal. He comforted him, saying that there was still about a month before school started and that he would find the best tutors for him. He also said that as the chairman of the school’s board, no one would dare look down on him.
“Yang Ke will also look after you,” Yang Zhongyun said, turning to Yang Ke.
Yang Ke had been silently eating, but when his grandfather mentioned him by name, his hand paused while picking up food. He glanced at Yang Zhongyun, expressionless.
“Right?” Yang Zhongyun’s tone suddenly grew firmer. “Yang Ke?”
Yang Zhongyun didn’t like overly bright environments, so only the surrounding lights were on in the dining room. The sun had set outside, but an orange dusk lingered, casting a dim light in the room.
From Yu Zhinian’s angle, the lines on Yang Zhongyun’s face seemed more pronounced.
He wore a dark blue Tang suit, his back straight, eyes sharp, but the corners of his mouth drooped with age, gazing intensely at Yang Ke as if he wouldn’t let go without an answer.
After a moment under his grandfather’s stare, Yang Ke casually muttered, “Mm.”
“Will you look after Zhinian?” Yang Zhongyun pressed on, dissatisfied with his attitude.
Yang Ke put down his chopsticks, glanced at Yu Zhinian again, and replied, “I will.”
Finally, Yang Zhongyun turned to Yu Zhinian, offering a reassuring smile. “See, Zhinian? Grandpa said so; there’s no need to worry.”
After the strange dinner ended, Yang Zhongyun left the house.
Yang Ke didn’t acknowledge Yu Zhinian and went upstairs on his own, so Yu Zhinian returned to his room as well.
Having nothing for entertainment, he looked over the answers the teachers had provided, then used his new phone to call his aunt.
She gave him a lot of advice, saying she was worried about him, that she’d come to check on him in a while. She urged him to behave in his boss’s home, study hard, and not be willful.
Yu Zhinian agreed to everything. After hanging up, he went to the balcony and looked down at the vast lawn and plants below, lost in thought.
It wasn’t too hot outside, not hot enough to make him sweat, and the air was filled with the scent of greenery.
Yang Zhongyun liked traditional Chinese gardens, so the greenery around the villa was elaborate, casting various depths of shadows under the night sky and ground lights.
He vaguely saw Yang Ke walking along the corridor toward the swimming pool and, for some reason, felt a strong urge to follow him and take a look. But Yang Ke probably wouldn’t welcome that, so he only entertained the thought.
•
The tutoring schedule that Yang Zhongyun arranged was much more intense than Yu Zhinian had imagined.
It started at 8 a.m. and went until 9:30 p.m., with one teacher after another. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he even had to go out for some sports training.
After more than a week of this, Yu Zhinian was so exhausted he had dark circles under his eyes and could barely walk straight.
Yang Zhongyun would come home for dinner almost every day, often quizzing him at the dinner table. The questions were usually simple, and whenever Yu Zhinian answered correctly, he would show a pleased and satisfied expression, showering him with praise.
Yang Ke was cold towards him. If they happened to meet, a nod was already considered a good response.
One night toward the end of the second week of tutoring, things took a slight turn.
That evening, Yang Zhongyun didn’t come home for dinner. He arrived around eight o’clock and immediately pushed open the door to Yu Zhinian’s study room. Yu Zhinian, who was working on a problem, jumped at the sound and looked up to see Yang Zhongyun approaching him.
His suit jacket was unbuttoned, his face slightly flushed, and as he got closer, Yu Zhinian smelled alcohol.
Secretary Xu followed him in, told that night’s tutor, “That’s enough for tonight,” and escorted the teacher out, leaving only Yu Zhinian and Yang Zhongyun in the study.
“Zhinian,” Yang Zhongyun lowered his head slightly, staring at him across the desk. After a long pause, he said, “Grandpa had some drinks today.”
Yu Zhinian was in the middle of a problem, and when he looked up at him, he felt a strange unease and didn’t speak.
“Would you keep Grandpa company in the study?” Yang Zhongyun said slowly. “It’s hard having no one around after drinking. Yang Ke doesn’t like to keep Grandpa company, and Grandpa feels lonely.”
Yu Zhinian’s heart raced, but he couldn’t find a reason to refuse. Almost on autopilot, he followed Yang Zhongyun to the study.
But it turned out that “keeping company” was just that—keeping company. Yang Zhongyun had him sit in a single armchair, telling him to read quietly, while he sat for a while and then got back to work.
Secretary Xu stayed outside the door, occasionally coming in and out. Half-distracted, Yu Zhinian tried reading La Dame aux Camélias. Before long, he felt drowsy, his eyes starting to close, when he heard Yang Zhongyun calling his name.
“Zhinian, Zhinian.”
Yu Zhinian jerked awake, looking up to see Yang Zhongyun smiling at him.
“Tired?” Yang Zhongyun looked at him, then at the clock. “It’s eleven. It’s late.”
Flipping through some files, he said, “Zhinian, Grandpa is really happy today that you kept me company. It’s been a long time since Grandpa felt this at ease.”
Not knowing how to respond, Yu Zhinian listened as he continued, “Yang Ke has never stayed with me like this, not from a young age. In the future, if you have time, could you keep Grandpa company occasionally?”
“I’ll set up a little desk for you here. Grandpa feels at peace with you around, and work goes smoother too. Would you help Grandpa with that?”
He looked at Yu Zhinian, smiling as if seeking his consent, though Yu Zhinian sensed he didn’t have much choice.
In the end, Yu Zhinian agreed, and Yang Zhongyun’s smile deepened. He said it was late, told him to go to bed, and mentioned he had a small gift waiting for him on his bedroom nightstand.
Yang Zhongyun’s study was on the fourth floor. Yu Zhinian went downstairs to his room, and when he opened the door, he saw something red on the bed. Walking over, he saw it was a large red envelope.
He picked it up and felt its weight, opening it to find stacks of cash and a note that read, “A modest allowance, a little good fortune. Zhinian has been with us for a month now,” signed by Yang Zhongyun.
Looking at the money and the note, he felt a mix of fear and helplessness flooding his heart.
He didn’t understand why Yang Zhongyun was so invested in him and felt a sense of fear toward this vast, empty house.
Sitting dazed for a while, his mind a mess, he walked to the balcony, trying to clear his head, when he saw Yang Ke in the lit corridor, returning to the main house from the pool.
•
Standing at the corner of the hallway, Yu Zhinian softly called Yang Ke’s name twice. Yang Ke stopped.
His hair seemed dry, no longer dripping, and he was dressed in sportswear. He turned and looked at Yu Zhinian.
“What’s up?”
Yang Ke’s tone was cold, making Yu Zhinian hesitate. But with no one else in the house to talk to, he mustered up the courage and asked, “Can I come in to talk?”
Yang Ke looked at him for a moment, seeming to think it over, then opened the door and said, “Come in.”
Yang Ke’s room was on the same floor as Yu Zhinian’s, located on opposite ends of the hallway, with a layout similar to his own.
The room was neatly arranged, with more personal items in the guest area than in Yu Zhinian’s. There was a wooden and glass display shelf beside the sofa, holding medals and trophies. The door to his bedroom was closed.
“Go ahead,” Yang Ke sat down first.
Yu Zhinian sat across from him, hesitating before saying the words he had prepared. “Do you know why Grandpa decided to sponsor me?”
Yang Ke glanced at him, answering bluntly, “I don’t.”
“Tonight, Grandpa came back after drinking and asked me to sit in his study, to read while he worked,” Yu Zhinian recalled, struggling to put his experience into words. “He said you wouldn’t keep him company, that he was lonely, and hoped I could keep him company from now on.”
Yang Ke paused, frowning.
“Then, when I got back to my room, there was this huge red envelope,” Yu Zhinian continued. “It had a note saying it was a welcome gift for my first month here.” He asked Yang Ke, “Were there any other students like me before?”
“No,” Yang Ke replied quickly. “I don’t know what he’s thinking.”
“Then… can I return the envelope?” Yu Zhinian asked hesitantly. “It’s too much money. I’m scared to accept it.”
“You can’t return it. He’ll get angry,” Yang Ke dismissed the idea, then looked at Yu Zhinian. “Just take it. It’s just a red envelope. How much money could it hold?”
Yu Zhinian didn’t respond. Then Yang Ke added, almost as if he’d just remembered, “Oh, I forgot—you’re a scholarship student.”
After that, he fell silent, staring off into space. His facial features and the shape of his eyebrows fell somewhere between rough and gentle. One hand rested on the sofa arm, his skin healthy and his forearm muscles defined, veins faintly visible, like a detail in an oil painting under the warm light.
After a few seconds of silence, Yu Zhinian couldn’t help but add, “It’s more than my aunt makes in two years.” Then he felt like he was playing the pity card, but it was too late to take it back.
Yang Ke looked up at him without reacting, then, as if thinking it over, said, “My grandfather has never brought a student home before or asked anyone to keep him company in the study. Don’t be so nervous; maybe he sees you as a pet, like a little cat or dog.”
“When I was a kid, he had a dog,” Yang Ke said. “Then he didn’t like the smell of it and gave it to a friend. Don’t worry—he doesn’t mistreat pets.”
Yu Zhinian didn’t know what to say, looking at Yang Ke before awkwardly murmuring, “Oh.”
“If things get too bad,” Yang Ke said, “you can call the police. I’ll be your witness. He’s definitely not normal.”
Yu Zhinian was startled. “I didn’t mean that.”
“…” Yang Ke glanced at him without much expression.
After a while, the two fell silent. Finally, Yu Zhinian called his name, “Yang Ke, can I have your phone number?”
Yang Ke responded with a simple “Mm,” then recited his number. As Yu Zhinian entered it, he suddenly asked, “How’s your studying going? I see you’re in tutoring every day. Weren’t you awarded a scholarship? Why do you need so much tutoring?”
Yu Zhinian froze for a moment, feeling embarrassed, and explained defensively, “There are a lot of courses I haven’t studied before.”
But Yang Ke didn’t seem particularly interested. “Alright then,” he said, asking if there was anything else before saying he was going to sleep. Yu Zhinian left his room.
Back in his own room, Yu Zhinian sent Yang Ke a message, letting him know, “I’m Yu Zhinian. This is my number.” Yang Ke replied “Okay” the next day.
During high school, Yang Ke would occasionally reply to Yu Zhinian’s messages, though eventually, he mostly stopped.
But it seemed that the only thing Yu Zhinian could recall was Yang Ke’s kindness to him.
As for the second question, “What do you like about Yang Ke?”—with Yu Zhinian’s analytical nature and academic inclinations, he could probably write an extensive thesis on the subject.
But to put it simply, he thought he probably liked Yang Ke’s straightforwardness, his integrity, his individuality, and the fact that Yang Ke never bothered to lie to him.
