Chapter 8: The Past and the Probe

At the entrance hall, Qu Yan was blocked on his path.

Standing in his way was a boy with a fair and youthful face, dressed in an exquisite white suit, like a prince who had been cherished since childhood.

Qu Yan furrowed his brows slightly and stepped aside to let him pass. The boy spoke first, “Tonight is my birthday party. Can you come home early, brother?”

Qu Yan glanced at the watch on his wrist and replied, “I have a piano lesson scheduled for tonight.”

After a pause, seeing the boy’s eyes instantly fall into a lonely sadness, he added, “If there’s anything you want, I’ll bring it back for you.”

The boy’s eyes brightened, and he grabbed Qu Yan’s wrist, shaking it gently with an affectionate tone, “The cake from the shop at the school gate, matcha flavor, please.”

The warmth from someone else’s touch through the thin shirt always made Qu Yan uncomfortable. He suppressed the urge to pull away and nodded, “Alright.”

The boy released his hand, a smile blossoming at the corner of his brow.

Qu Yan’s gaze shifted to the side and he noticed someone standing behind the boy—a tall figure in a black suit, wearing a cold expression that seemed unwelcoming.

A quick glance revealed the man’s nervousness and embarrassment.

Nervous, because his fists clenched involuntarily at his side and his jaw was tense; embarrassed, because the black suit he wore was clearly several sizes too large.

His hair was over-sprayed with gel and not styled well, but fortunately, his face held firm.

For some reason, Qu Yan felt a little amused. He withdrew his gaze and turned to leave.

Behind him, the boy continued speaking, his tone laced with a hint of coaxing: “Come hang out in my room for a bit, Yan Zhuo. I’m really tired right now...”

During the first semester of his second year in high school, Qu Yan was busy with a physics competition and had extra tutoring every night, which made him one of the last students to leave school.

The classrooms were on the second floor, and at that time the school was undergoing renovations. For safety reasons, one side of the staircase was temporarily closed, forcing students to exit through a long corridor on the first floor.

It was just a minor inconvenience—until the day the power suddenly went out. Walking down that corridor became a test of courage, and Qu Yan happened to be the most afraid of the dark.

Perhaps wild beasts lurked in the darkness. The light from his phone offered little comfort. The silent school building echoed faintly, accelerating his heartbeat. After a few seconds, he suddenly broke into a run, rounding a corner to see the corridor ahead bathed in a strong beam of light.

Qu Yan instinctively closed his eyes. “Who’s there?”

The beam shifted, then footsteps approached. After a few light taps, they stopped in front of him. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

A voice caught between boyhood and youth.

Qu Yan opened his eyes to see a somewhat familiar face. This time, no gel-sprayed hair, but soft and falling naturally, much more pleasing to the eye.

The flashlight beam shone on the wall, illuminating the entire corridor. Qu Yan asked uncertainly, “Are you... Yan Zhuo?”

“You remember me?” The tall, slender boy was incredulous, his eyes glowing in the flashlight’s beam. “It’s me, Yan Zhuo. Yan as in the swallow, Zhuo as in shining eyes.”

Qu Yan suddenly thought the name was perfect, for his gaze was indeed scorching, giving off a burning sensation.

The two walked side by side down the corridor, a person’s distance between them. Qu Yan suddenly remembered and asked, “By the way, you said you came back looking for something. Did you find it?”

Yan Zhuo’s tongue seemed to flutter, and he mumbled, “I found it.”

His vague answer piqued Qu Yan’s curiosity, so he pressed on, “What was it?”

“Nothing, it’s not important...” His voice grew even more indistinct.

Approaching the corridor’s exit, Yan Zhuo switched off the flashlight, his hair flickering in the air. He waved at Qu Yan. “I found what I was looking for. I’ll go ahead.”

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, falling squarely on the pillow. Outside, the sun shone brightly, the sky was blue with white clouds—peaceful and calm, as if those monsters had never appeared.

Qu Yan’s fingers twitched slightly; the memories of the past in his dream felt vivid once more. As he was about to sit up in bed, a familiar voice came from outside the door: “Qu Yan, are you awake?”

It was Yan Zhuo.

He threw back the covers, his voice still lazy from just waking up: “I’m awake. I’ll be out soon... Wait, can you come in?”

He changed his mind in an instant; the person outside must have been taken aback, as it took several seconds before the door opened.

Yan Zhuo looked fresh, no sign of fatigue, and said to Qu Yan lying in bed, “Is it okay if we have self-heating porridge for breakfast?”

“Sure.” Qu Yan stretched lazily. “We can eat breakfast later. Can you help me with something now?”

Yan Zhuo stepped closer. “What’s up?”

Qu Yan lifted his injured hand, the bandages askew. “I accidentally got it wet yesterday, and it seems swollen. Dressing myself might be difficult. Can you help me?”

Yan Zhuo halted.

Qu Yan continued as if unaware: “It’s simple. It won’t take long.”

“Qu Yan, I…”

“The clothes are in the wardrobe.” Qu Yan interrupted, tilting his head with a smile. “After all, you caused this injury. You’re not going to refuse, are you?”

Those words left Yan Zhuo with no room to retreat. He opened the wardrobe and, under Qu Yan’s direction, took out a set of clothes.

Qu Yan stretched out his arms slightly. “Unbutton them.”

The pure black buttons were peeled off by trembling fingertips, the bare chest freed from its bindings, finally touching the cool air. Qu Yan lowered his gaze to Yan Zhuo’s hair whorl, seemingly unaware of the quickened breaths beside him. His tone remained casual: “I dreamed last night—it seemed like high school again.”

Unbuttoning all the buttons felt as if half a century had passed, like unwrapping a gift. Yan Zhuo shook off the packaging, revealing before him a young, frail, pale body.

White, pink, warm.

Flustered, he lowered his head, but no matter where he looked, he was only trying to cover up the truth.

He bent over again, repeating the previous motion, but this time buttoning the buttons. Yan Zhuo breathed softly. After witnessing the beauty of this gift, all he wanted now was to hide it away—inside the clothes, where no one but him would see it.

“Do you remember? One time during a blackout, we bumped into each other at the corridor entrance. You said you were looking for something. I asked what it was, but you hesitated to answer...”

Buttoning the second-to-last button, Yan Zhuo saw Qu Yan lean closer, his voice low: “I think you did it on purpose. You were waiting there for me. You didn’t actually lose anything, did you?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as sweat formed in his palms. He barely knew what he was saying. “N-No... I really lost something.”

Qu Yan stared intently at him, then suddenly leaned back, collapsing onto the bed again. “Thanks for helping. I can manage the rest myself.”

Yan Zhuo curled his body, one hand propping himself on the bed, a lingering flush on his cheeks. He stammered, “Okay.”

The wolf tail under the sunlight didn’t move, just as its owner remained at a loss.

Author’s note: Good night.