FQ chapter 50

Luan Ye withdrew his gaze. “You listed your school as the delivery address?”

Fan Qing stood still, staring at the message. “Yeah. When we were filling out applications, the school said if anyone was worried about packages getting lost, they could have it sent to the school. He—Lao Yu—lives at school, so he could keep an eye on them for us.”

“You going to pick it up today?” Luan Ye asked.

“Right now?” Fan Qing looked up.

“If it’s not urgent, we can eat first. If it is, let’s go now.” Luan Ye smiled. “Why are you spacing out?”

Fan Qing finally put away his phone, pursing his lips a little shyly. “Just… still processing it.”

Even though only two months had passed, so much had happened over the summer that the college entrance exam felt like a lifetime ago. Receiving that message so suddenly gave Fan Qing a strange sense of unreality.

That feeling lingered as they ate rice noodles and drove into the city to the high school. On the way, Fan Qing got a call from his homeroom teacher. Luan Ye listened beside him—the teacher must’ve told him the admission letter had arrived and asked when he could come pick it up. When he heard Fan Qing was already on the way, he asked him to stop by the office afterward.

After hanging up, Luan Ye finally said, “Your teacher’s pretty responsible.”

“Yeah,” Fan Qing replied. “He’s about to retire. We all call him Lao Yu. When we were applying for universities, he helped each of us calculate our scores and recommended schools. He’s pretty accurate. After the college entrance exams, lots of parents seek him out.”

“Did he recommend your school too?” Luan Ye asked.

“…He suggested a few after calculating my score,” Fan Qing replied. “I picked one.”

Luan Ye turned to glance at him upon hearing that.

At the school gate, Fan Qing parked the car by the roadside. The school gate looked grand, like traditional architecture, with upturned eaves. Below, the sign read “City No. 1 High School.”

The security office was on the left just inside the entrance. Lao Yu must’ve already come by—he’d pulled Fan Qing’s letter out and placed it on top. It stood out with its bright color.

Fan Qing showed his ID to the on-duty teacher. When he held the package in his hands, he was unexpectedly nervous.

As soon as he stepped out of the security office, he opened it quickly for a glance.

“Fan Qing, as approved by the Yunnan Higher Education Admissions Committee…”

Luan Ye’s eyes fell on the letter. “You picked Nanjing, huh.”

“Yeah,” Fan Qing replied.

After tallying the scores, Lao Yu had listed schools in Liaoning, Hunan, Harbin, and Nanjing…

Luan Ye looked at him for a while, then smiled. “I thought you’d pick Zhejiang.”

“I looked into it, but none of the schools really suited me,” Fan Qing continued naturally. “The top ones felt out of reach, and the lower ones…”

“Would be a waste of your score,” Luan Ye finished.

“Exactly.” Fan Qing smiled.

“So rational. Not even love-struck when it really matters,” Luan Ye laughed.

“There are over 100 high-speed trains from Nanjing to Hangzhou every day. Fastest is 1 hour 10 minutes, slowest is 3 hours 35,” Fan Qing said.

“I checked on application day.”

Luan Ye stared at him, momentarily speechless.

It was quiet and empty at school during summer break. The two stood beneath the school gate. The wind blew gently. No one else was around.

Luan Ye sighed.

“There are way too many surveillance cameras at your school. Two just at the main gate.”

Fan Qing instinctively looked up, puzzled. “Huh?”

“Kissing you here feels like committing a felony,” Luan Ye said.

“You—” Fan Qing’s face turned red instantly, though he also couldn’t help laughing. “Can you act normal?”

“Didn’t your teacher say he wanted to see you?” Luan Ye laughed for a long time before continuing. “Go on, I’ll wait here.”

“You can walk around a bit. Our school’s quite nice,” Fan Qing tucked away the letter and glanced at the time. “I’ll be right back.”

He was right—the school was nice. The greenery was lush, with little bridges and flowing water in a quaint, old-fashioned style. It must be a long-established school.

On the school plaza bulletin board was a bright red list—students who scored above the first-tier university threshold. Luan Ye scanned through it and found Fan Qing’s name.

Ranked quite high.

Luan Ye took out his phone to snap a photo, then realized he was acting like a parent.

After strolling around campus, he returned to the gate just as Fan Qing came out of the office. As they left the school, not far to the right of the gate, the stone-paved road clattered with the sound of suitcase wheels. A sign nearby read: “No motor vehicles allowed inside the old city.”

“Your school’s inside the old city?”

“Right next to it,” Fan Qing replied. “Wanna look around?”

It was probably the city’s most famous and largest old town, with big crowds and a well-developed commercial setup. Luan Ye strolled leisurely through the old town. “Did you guys ever sneak out during school?”

“After the first session of evening study. If we were really hungry, we’d sneak out to buy rice cakes or milk tea,” Fan Qing pointed at a few shops. “But there were too many people, and we only had 20 minutes, so we had to run. The grade director would be waiting downstairs to catch late students.”

Luan Ye pictured Fan Qing sprinting out in his school uniform at night to buy snacks, then running all the way back with food in hand—and laughed to himself.

What a great time. Full of youthful energy.

The old town was huge. The two strolled for half the day. Since they were already in the city, they also dropped by a shopping district, bought some stuff, and had dinner.

By the time they got back to Xuehu Village, the sun was setting. Granny Mu was busy in the kitchen. On the little table in the yard sat a bamboo tray of freshly baked flower pastries.

When she saw them come in, she waved. “Come, come, have a taste.”

Luan Ye handed one to Fan Qing and took a bite of his own—fresh out of the oven, warm and fragrant.

“Delicious,” he nodded.

“Of course,” Granny Mu grinned proudly. “Homemade is always better than store-bought. Later, take a tray upstairs.”

“You made so many?” Luan Ye laughed. “Can we finish them all?”

“Xiao Qiao asked me to. His parents are coming tomorrow or the day after. Told me to make some for them to take home.”

Granny Mu placed each hot pastry onto the bamboo tray. “They even wanted to book a hotel. I said why bother? Just stay in the empty room downstairs. It’s only a few days.”

Fan Qing glanced at Luan Ye. The latter looked calm and nodded. “I’ll take some. Don’t tell Xiao Qiao.”

“Of course not,” Granny Mu chuckled, eyes crinkling. “I’ll sneak you some.”

Luan Ye brought a tray upstairs, showered, and got to work editing the photos and videos he’d taken for Li Hongkuo.

The desk chair was wooden and uncomfortable, so he moved his laptop to the coffee table, sat on the rug with a pillow, and leaned back against the sofa—completely sinking into the softness.

He always wanted to smoke when working, but Fan Qing was next to him. They were sitting pretty close, and if Luan Ye leaned just a little, he could rest his head on Fan Qing’s leg.

So he put the cigarette away.

After more than two hours of work, Fan Qing had only stepped out once to take a call—otherwise, he’d been quiet the whole time. When Luan Ye finally put down his mouse and massaged his neck—

Fan Qing reached over and rubbed his shoulders. Luan Ye shifted, lying fully into Fan Qing’s arms, face turned to the side, eyes closed, resting against Fan Qing’s firm abdomen.

Fan Qing continued massaging his shoulders and asked, “Tired?”

Luan Ye, still with his eyes closed, murmured in comfort: “With the videos, it’ll take three days.”

“That long?”

“Feeling bad for me? If you are, share some of the profits with me, Boss Fan.” Luan Ye chuckled. “Did Li Hongkuo talk to you?”

“Yeah, he called earlier. We talked about product issues and revenue shares.” Fan Qing pressed gently on his neck. “He offered me 20 percent and asked me to handle product development and coordination.”

“Sounds professional. Did you tell him you’re going to school?”

“I did. He said it’s fine. As long as I hand things over before school starts, he can just call me if anything comes up.”

“That’s good.” Luan Ye didn’t move. “You talked for an hour just about that?”

Fan Qing blinked and looked down at him, laughing. “You timed it?”

“Of course. Gotta keep tabs when you’re in a relationship.” Luan Ye brushed his fingers against Fan Qing’s hand resting nearby.

“I also talked to my grandma,” Fan Qing laughed. “Told her I got the letter.”

“Oh.” Luan Ye opened his eyes and pushed himself up slightly. “Are you going to go back and visit her?”

Fan Qing turned his hand to hold Luan Ye’s: “Yeah, I’m about to start university soon, and I want to go home to spend some time with her.”

Almost forgot—his boyfriend is a soon-to-be college freshman.

“When does school start?” Luan Ye asked.

“September 4th.”

Still over twenty days left.

Fan Qing paused, then said, “Do you want to go back with me?”

Luan Ye met his eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah.” Fan Qing looked at him. “Qiao Feibai’s parents are coming. With so many people, you definitely won’t go downstairs, probably won’t even come down for meals.”

Luan Ye laughed, “You know me that well?”

“Why not come back with me then,” Fan Qing continued.

Luan Ye stayed quiet for a bit, seemingly deep in thought. After a moment, he said, “Forget it, Li Hongkuo’s still waiting for the photos.”

Fan Qing looked down at him, and Luan Ye added, “This came up too suddenly. I didn’t prepare anything. Let’s wait till next time.”

By “prepare,” he didn’t just mean buying things—he meant emotionally, mentally, and tying up unfinished business.

Fan Qing understood, and nodded. “Okay.”

Luan Ye lifted his hand to gently stroke Fan Qing’s face in reassurance. Fan Qing held his hand and asked, “Then after school starts… will you go visit your mom?”

Luan Ye was silent for a moment. Fan Qing continued, “You should go see her.”

“I’m kind of scared,” Luan Ye finally said, voice barely audible.

“I’m scared she’ll see the way I’m living and blame me for not listening to her. But I’m also scared that she won’t blame me at all,” Luan Ye said. “Then I’ll end up blaming myself.”

He laughed after saying it. “Sounds like a tongue twister.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Fan Qing said firmly, looking down at him.

“Buy a ticket to Hangzhou, take a cab home from the airport, knock on the door, call out ‘Mom’—”

“And then get scolded,” Luan Ye chuckled.

“You won’t.”

Fan Qing held Luan Ye’s fingers to his face, paused, then said, “I’ve dreamed about that scene so many times. Coming back from school, running home to knock on the door, my mom in the yard, and I call out to her…”

“She’s always smiling in the dream.” Fan Qing intertwined their fingers. “Your mom will be the same.”

Luan Ye looked at him. After a long silence, he spoke softly, “Got it.”

“I’m heading home tomorrow,” Fan Qing said. “If you don’t want to go downstairs these next few days, just eat out. Call me if anything comes up.”

He paused for two seconds. “You can call even if nothing comes up.”

“Okay baby,” Luan Ye said with a smile, rubbing noses with him. “I’ll wait for you to come back.”

They locked eyes for a few seconds before Fan Qing lowered his head to kiss him.

Luan Ye knelt on the sofa and tilted his head back slightly, tugging Fan Qing’s collar to bring him down. Their breaths tangled hotly, and Fan Qing’s hand slid under Luan Ye’s shirt, caressing up along his back.

The warm palm met heated skin, like striking a match. Luan Ye straddled him, face to face, clearly sensing the change in Fan Qing’s body.

He leaned back a little and looked up at Fan Qing. The moment their eyes met, he smirked, then slid down beside Fan Qing on his knees. He moved aside the barrier and lowered his head.

Caught off guard, Fan Qing instinctively placed a hand on the back of Luan Ye’s head.

His breathing rose and fell with Luan Ye’s movements. The sensation was so intense that Fan Qing felt a little dizzy, unconsciously thrusting his hips forward.

Luan Ye gave a muffled groan, panting slightly, and gripped Fan Qing’s thigh tighter, pressing into him.

……

That final second felt like a jolt of electricity—Fan Qing’s scalp tingled, his mind shattered, then slowly pulled itself back together.

Luan Ye’s voice was hoarse as he ordered, “Water.”

Fan Qing snapped out of it and immediately poured him a glass, handing it over. Luan Ye rinsed twice and spat into the trash bin. Fan Qing gave him a fresh glass.

Luan Ye sprawled on the sofa like an emperor being waited on, sipping half the glass before handing it back.

Fan Qing finished the rest, set the cup down, and returned to the sofa to hold Luan Ye again.

Their bodies pressed together, skin still warm and slightly sweaty. Luan Ye’s voice had improved but was still raspy.

“I really need a haircut.”

Fan Qing turned to him. “What?”

“You got a little too excited earlier and couldn’t help pulling my hair,” Luan Ye said with a low chuckle, eyes still closed. “Didn’t you notice?”

Fan Qing’s face burned all the way to his ears.

“I—didn’t notice.”

Luan Ye’s tone remained teasing, hoarse but light: “Mm, I can tell.”

Fan Qing pressed his lips together, reached over to brush Luan Ye’s scattered hair aside, kissed the corner of his mouth, then buried his burning face into Luan Ye’s neck, hugging him tightly.