The narrow bell tower was filled with the musty scent of old, decaying wood. A boy lying on the creaky floor shifted his position, causing the wooden boards to creak under him. The air was so dry it made his skin itch, and Wang Xiao sniffled a bit before stuffing a rolled-up piece of tissue into his nose, sighing as he looked at the two people lounging on the couch.
“Fu Zhi’an, isn’t this favoritism a bit too obvious?” Wang Xiao’s voice had barely faded when the two boys lying on the floor raised their heads with pained expressions, their drooping mouths showing their frustration. The boy holding a test paper, however, acted as if he hadn’t heard. He glanced at the paper in his hand, then reached out to tug at the person sprawled out on the couch beside him.
With an expression that barely concealed his impatience, Chi Yu clicked his tongue a couple of times, but he leaned over and let his head drop to look at the paper. Fu Zhi’an gently removed the pen tucked behind Chi Yu’s ear, his fingertips lightly brushing against the boy’s earlobe. Chi Yu instinctively turned his head, his heart skipping a beat when their eyes met. Clearing his throat, he quickly averted his gaze, crossing his arms over his knees and sitting up straight to focus on the paper dotted with red marks.
“This part’s in the wrong tense,” Fu Zhi’an pointed out, his slender fingers circling the error with a pen. His gaze moved down, and he marked a star next to the final fill-in-the-blank question. “You should refer back to Unit 17 for this.” Chi Yu pressed his lips together, mumbling an acknowledgment before taking the paper and slumping back onto the couch. Only then did Fu Zhi’an look up, his face expressionless as he addressed Wang Xiao’s aggrieved expression. “What were you saying just now?”
Wang Xiao threw his head back in exaggerated despair, and the other two boys, Lin Chuan and Hu Yushan, who were lying in a corner, also lifted their heads in protest. They felt that their study group leader was blatantly biased. With the winter break approaching, the already restless students in the class were becoming even more unruly. Led by Wang Xiao, a few boys spent their days in the classroom playing games, with Hu Yushan even bringing in a rice cooker to try making hotpot in class.
So, when their homeroom teacher, Lin Jing, announced that there would be a school exam on the last day before the break, Hu Yushan’s chopsticks dropped in shock, and Wang Xiao let out an irritated click of the tongue, contemplating whether to pick up the fallen meatball and eat it after blowing it clean.
“This time, the results will be sent to your parents’ phones around New Year’s,” Lin Jing continued, pausing as she noticed the dazed looks on her students’ faces, smiling in satisfaction. “The results will include your class rank, grade rank, and a comparison with your previous monthly exam scores.”
“To help everyone review better, you can form study groups of five to help each other out.” Lin Jing thought for a moment before asking, “Would you prefer to choose your own groups, or should I assign them?”
In the end, they chose to form their own groups. Wang Xiao immediately turned around, cupping his face with both hands and squeezing out a ring of chubby flesh. He licked his lips and pleaded with Fu Zhi’an, “Big Brother, my future depends on you.” The boy who had been dozing with his head buried in his arms suddenly looked up, squinting as he muttered, “Depends on what part?”
Fu Zhi’an finished writing the last word in his notebook, closed it, and handed it to the person next to him. “He meant his future.”
The final group formed consisted of Fu Zhi’an at the center, with Chi Yu, Wang Xiao, Hu Yushan, who had shamelessly insisted on joining, and Lin Chuan, who had been left feeling abandoned by Ji Xiaoxiao. Hu Yushan was especially pleased with the grouping, confident that clinging to Fu Zhi’an’s brilliance would ensure a prosperous New Year, financially speaking.
But things didn’t go as planned. After evening self-study, the group of boys dragged their school bags to the bell tower, where the only piece of furniture was an old couch. Chi Yu, who was last to arrive, swaggered over, sprawled out on the couch, and stretched lazily. Fu Zhi’an followed suit, sitting on the couch with his test papers. “When should we start?”
The others resigned themselves to hardship for the sake of their studies. They sat cross-legged on the floor, papers in hand, gazing at Fu Zhi’an like he was a golden Buddha statue, their eyes filled with reverence. Fu Zhi’an circled a few questions on their test papers and handed them over before turning to Chi Yu with a gentle smile. “Do you want to start with English or math?”
The bell tower had likely been neglected for years, and the wooden window had cracked open, allowing a chilly breeze to seep in. Wang Xiao sniffled and sneezed, grumbling, “Chi-ge, the bell tower your family built isn’t great quality, huh?” He continued stuffing his nose with tissues, complaining in a nasal voice, “The wind’s really coming through.”
Chi Yu, who was wrestling with various verb tenses, lifted his head, his lips curling into a cold smile. “How about letting your family build the next one?” Wang Xiao laughed nervously, suddenly remembering something. “Oh, Chi-ge, your family donated another batch of lab equipment.” Chi Yu responded with a nonchalant grunt. He had thought that when Chi Yu knew about his relationship with Fu Zhi’an, he might at least be called home for a talk. But, as usual, his father just used money to smooth things over. Still, it was probably for the best.
The wind howled outside, rattling the bare branches of the trees. With his hands in his pockets, Chi Yu followed Fu Zhi’an closely, Wang Xiao’s incessant chatter buzzing in his ears. Chi Yu had the urge to snap at him several times but held back whenever he caught sight of Fu Zhi’an’s calm gaze. At the school gate, Wang Xiao waved goodbye to them, took a few steps, then suddenly ran back. “You’ve got to invite me to your birthday party, Chi-ge. We’ve got revolutionary friendship now.”
Wang Xiao stood there until Fu Zhi’an gave a slight nod. Only then did he grin and walk away.
The street was shrouded in the vast night, with the damp car lights casting long shadows as they passed over the two boys.
“What are you planning to do for your birthday?” Fu Zhi’an asked, his voice soft and carrying a hint of warmth in the cold wind. He turned to look at Chi Yu, whose sharp profile was all he could see.
“Spend it with you,” Chi Yu replied simply. Fu Zhi’an’s voice was light as he continued, “Nothing else matters.”
This guy’s getting better at talking, Chi Yu thought as he lay in bed later that night. He replayed the scene in his mind, remembering Fu Zhi’an’s eyes that always seemed to be smiling. He placed his hand on his chest, feeling the strong, burning heartbeat stirred by those three words. It seemed like the word “like” only grew more overwhelming once it was spoken aloud. Chi Yu pulled out his phone, staring at the slightly blurry face of Fu Zhi’an on the wallpaper, a smile unconsciously curving his lips.
He opened his contacts and hesitated for a long time before dialing but didn’t press the call button. Instead, he pursed his lips, quickly typed out a message, and sent it. Rolling over, he noticed that his still-damp hair had soaked the pillow. Just as he was about to change it, his phone buzzed, and he stopped in his tracks, barefoot in the living room. Opening the unread message, the bright light illuminated his trembling eyelashes and the softening corners of his eyes.
Forgetting about the wet pillow, Chi Yu hugged it to his chest, clutching his phone as he returned to the bedroom.
“What are you doing?”
Fu Zhi’an’s reply was a screenshot, showing the message Chi Yu had just sent, along with a draft of an unsent message Fu Zhi’an had been typing at the same time. The words on the screen were clear: “What are you doing?”
Peeking into the room, Chen Yifang noticed Fu Zhi’an grinning at his phone. She gently knocked on the door, and Fu Zhi’an quickly tucked the phone into a drawer, turning to face her with an overly calm expression. She forced a smile, walked in, and set a glass of milk on the table.
“Are we going to your uncle’s house for your birthday again this year?” Chen Yifang adjusted the bedsheet, her gaze sneaking over to the desk. Fu Zhi’an put down his pen, rubbed his temples, and replied, “No, I’ve made plans with friends.” Chen Yifang’s hands paused for a moment. She smiled and said, “Could Xiao Chi come over to our place?”
“There’ll be other classmates too,” Fu Zhi’an sighed, turning his head away. “You don’t need to overthink it.”
Chen Yifang, feeling awkward, quickly finished making the bed and started to leave, muttering to herself. But just as she was about to close the door, she peeked her head back in. Meeting Fu Zhi’an’s gaze, she hastily said, “It’s not about the birthday.”
“Didn’t you mention that there was a scholarship nomination?” she asked.
Fu Zhi’an’s eyes returned to his test papers, and after reading the entire problem set, he responded with a vague hum. Chen Yifang left the room, smiling brightly as she shut the door. Only after she had gone did Fu Zhi’an look up. He pulled out his phone from the drawer, where there was an unread message from his homeroom teacher. It said there were many strong contenders for the school scholarship this semester, and he might not win it.
He probably hadn’t won. Fu Zhi’an typed a short reply: “Got it. Thank you, Teacher” and then deleted the message. Apart from the lonely text from Chi Yu, his inbox was almost entirely empty. Leaning back in his chair, he opened the text, but nothing came to mind to respond with. Feeling stifled, he slipped on a jacket and left his room. Passing by his mother’s curious glance, he quietly said, “It’s a bit stuffy; I’m going to get some air on the balcony.”
The streetlights cast a dim yellow glow, occasionally interrupted by the whizzing of a passing car. Cold wind slipped through the open collar of his jacket, seeping in relentlessly. Fu Zhi’an pulled out his phone and dialed a number, pressing it against his ear. The ringtone had barely started when the call was answered, and neither of them spoke. After a moment, a stiff “Hello?” came from the other end. Fu Zhi’an smiled, but he stayed silent.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Chi Yu’s voice was tense. “Don’t scare me, okay? Fu Zhi’an? Are you alright?”
The concern was unmistakable, even through the phone. Fu Zhi’an could hear the soft shuffling sounds as if Chi Yu was slipping on his shoes, ready to rush over if he didn’t respond soon.
“I’m fine,” Fu Zhi’an murmured. “I just forgot to tell you in the text.”
“I really miss you.”
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