The boy’s ears turned red, and he looked up like a thief, only to see the man hastily leaving the bathroom, with the door being closed behind him.
Walking into the dining room, a lavish dinner was already prepared, it was balanced and well-curated, with a mix of meats and vegetables. Yet, one key person was missing, the very one who should have been eating with him, Tunshe Nalin. Na Ran ate the meal in boredom, lacking the usual excitement. His godfather was not human and did not eat the food he liked. He had gradually realized this since he was young. Curious, he once asked about it, and his adoptive father told him a story: a dying tree spirit saved a human, and on the human’s deathbed, entrusted his son to the spirit. In return, the spirit raised the human child to repay the debt. It sounded like the strange and eerie tales in “Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio.” So much so that when people at school talked about the spirits, demons, and fairies in books or plays, he couldn’t help but feel a unique sense of superiority, he wasn’t like ordinary children, he was raised by a spirit! He once couldn’t hold back from mentioning it but only got a round of laughter in return, with everyone thinking he was making up stories. However, later, they all grew fond of the comics he drew, chasing him for the next chapter. Those ignorant people, if they knew that the very tree spirit they admired was his godfather, they would probably be shocked beyond words…
Lost in thought, Na Ran finished his dessert and walked towards his room. As he passed by Tunshe Nalin’s room, he couldn’t help but stop. The door, which was usually always open for him, was now tightly shut. He raised his hand and gently traced the ancient carvings on the door, tilting his head and pressing his ear against it. What was his godfather doing now?
The image of Tunshe Nalin sitting at his desk, carefully checking his homework, appeared in Na Ran’s mind. His heart swelled with sweetness, like cotton candy absorbing the sugar threads, expanding with a tender warmth. The restlessness that had just begun to fade from his youthful body now stirred once more, showing signs of returning.
He bit his lower lip, closed his eyes, and kissed the door panel. It was cold and hard, not warm, but it felt strangely similar to the sensation of being close to Tunshe Nalin’s body, like lying in his embrace. The feeling lingered, making him yearn for more.
Imagining the taste and scene of kissing his adoptive father, the boy tilted his head back, slightly opened his lips and teeth, and stood on tiptoe.
“Click”, the door opened unexpectedly, and Na Ran was petrified on the spot. When he opened his eyes, a tall figure stood in front of him, his red pupils slightly dilated, revealing a bit of surprise: “Ranran?”
When the boy saw what the man was holding in his hand, his ears turned red to his neck. He rushed into his room at the end of the corridor and slammed the door shut.
Tunshe Nalin froze in front of the door, and it took him a long time to come back to his senses. His eyes fell on the book in his hand, this comic strip hastily drawn in pencil was a story about a thousand-year-old tree demon and a little fox that used a tree hole as its nest… a story of love between them. If he had not had the urge to take a peek at Na Ran’s diary today, he would not have discovered that his sixteen-year-old lover had already had such thoughts about him before he recovered his memory.
It really… surprised him, delighted him, and also made him feel a little helpless.
—Discovered. His godfather must have discovered his improper thoughts about him. His actions just now and the comic strip… the adolescent boy covered himself completely in the quilt, curled up in shame, bit the corner of the quilt, and rolled around on the bed. What should he do? Will his godfather think he is a bad boy, hate him, and despise him? In the boys’ school where he attended, it was not uncommon for boys to secretly like and pursue each other, but once it came to light, they would be ridiculed by everyone and regarded as “psychopaths”. Would his godfather think the same of him, and avoid him from now on, or even don’t want him? The more Na Ran thought about it, the more scared and sad he became. He couldn’t help crying secretly in the quilt, but he didn’t know that outside the door, Tunshe Nalin stood silently in the dark, listening carefully to the movements in the room for a long time. The pale fingers on the door handle tightened, and the light blue veins twisted and undulated, like a snake dormant in a swamp.
When the faint sobbing in the room gradually became smaller and disappeared completely, he turned the door and entered, like a ghost, quietly coming to the boy’s bed. There was a small outline in the quilt, even the head was covered inside, revealing a small tuft of hair, like a little fox’s tail, sweeping across his heart and slightly lifting the corners of his lips. As if he had a dream, or maybe because he was growing taller, the boy suddenly shrank, turned over, and one foot stuck out of the quilt and kicked his knee. He lowered his eyes, and his gaze fell on the boy’s ankle, on the snow-white and slender ankle, there was an anklet woven from a vine, and a tender red camellia flower was about to bloom. This was what he put on him when he first came back to the world. It was a confinement and a vow.
His adam apple rolled up and down, he reached out his hand, carefully picked up the boy’s foot, and with great willpower controlled himself to put it back into the quilt, but in the end he couldn’t help it, lowered his head, and kissed the boy’s ankle through the quilt.
In a daze, he suddenly felt a chill on his ankle. Na Ran shivered and groggily opened his eyes.
Tunshe Nalin lifted his body, just like he did every night to prevent his little lover from having trouble breathing in his sleep, and reached out to lift the corner of the blanket that was covering the boy’s head and face.
At that moment, their eyes met.
