FQ chapter 20

Luan Ye walked over and turned on the light, brightening the room. His actions and tone were all very natural, and Fan Qing, caught in his excitement, didn’t sense anything unusual.

“I’ll call my aunt tomorrow.”

“As for my grandma… I think I’ll go home this weekend and tell her in person.”

Fan Qing straightened up, still leaning one hand on the desk.

“She’ll definitely want me to go up the mountain and tell my parents too.”

“As she should.”

Luan Ye plopped down on the sofa, crossed his legs, and casually pulled a throw pillow onto his lap. The distance between them was about five or six steps. He turned his head to glance at Fan Qing and smiled.

“Isn’t it time to apply for colleges next?”

“Yeah.”

After saying that, some of Fan Qing’s excitement seemed to fade.

“Don’t know where to go?”

Luan Ye studied his expression. “Didn’t you already start reading the guidebook last time? You didn’t look at it seriously?”

“…No,” Fan Qing said, a bit helpless.

Every time he saw that mix of exasperation and helplessness on Fan Qing’s face, Luan Ye found it especially amusing and laughed for a while before speaking.

“Can’t decide where to go?”

“I have a major I want to study, but the good schools are all far away.”

Fan Qing said, “If I leave… my grandma will be home alone, with no one to take care of her.”

But with his scores, going to college within the province would be a waste.

Luan Ye looked at him for a moment.

Since they met, Luan Ye thought the most interesting thing about Fan Qing was that no matter what he looked like or how he acted, the core of his personality was kindness.

He had sensed it the first time they met.

And it was exactly because of that innate kindness that Fan Qing shouldered a lot on his own.

“Talk it over with your family. See what they think.”

“My grandma doesn’t really understand these things… My aunt would probably just say don’t worry about the family,” Fan Qing said in a low voice. “She’d tell me to go wherever I want.”

“Then take her advice,” said Luan Ye.

“The truth is, there are a lot of things you can’t shoulder yet, and you don’t need to for now, so don’t pressure yourself too much.”

“Think more about the things 18-year-olds should care about,” Luan Ye added. “First thing I thought of after my exams was where to go have fun.”

Fan Qing laughed a little. “Then how did you choose your school?”

“Someone else chose it,” Luan Ye took a sip of water. “He wanted to go to California, so we went.”

Someone else.

Someone who could decide where Luan Ye went to school.

Fan Qing immediately realized who it was.

“Your… boyfriend?”

“Mm,” Luan Ye answered.

“…Oh.”

Fan Qing took his hand off the desk and stood up straight. His gaze swept across the window and only then did he realize it was already dark outside.

It was pitch black outside, with only the warm light in the room and the two of them inside.

“Take your time deciding. It’s four years, after all. What you like is most important—tsk.”

Halfway through his sentence, Fan Qing looked up. Luan Ye had just finished drinking water and set the cup back down, accidentally knocking the pillow off his lap. It rolled away slightly.

Too lazy to stand, Luan Ye hunched over from the sofa and stretched out an arm to grab it, like a cat stretching out. As he bent forward, a small patch of smooth skin on the back of his neck was revealed. A few strands of hair had fallen there, trailing from his neck to behind his ear, disappearing into his shirt.

Fan Qing’s gaze landed on that patch of skin. After a few seconds, he looked away, walked over, picked up the pillow, patted it twice, and handed it to Luan Ye.

As he took the pillow, Luan Ye sighed. He really was kind of lazy.

“I’ll get going,” Fan Qing said. “Bit tired from the mountain today.”

“Oh.” Luan Ye paused. “Alright.”

Fan Qing walked two steps toward the door, then stopped as he opened it.

“Thanks… for checking my results.”

“…No need to thank me.” Luan Ye laughed. “You weren’t this polite when you insisted I do it earlier.”

“I have to go home for a couple days this weekend to see my grandma,” Fan Qing added awkwardly, changing the subject.

“So I might not send photos.”

“Got it. I’ll probably be rested by the time you’re back,” Luan Ye raised an eyebrow, not expecting Fan Qing to specifically mention that.

“Let me know ahead of time where you’re going next.”

Fan Qing nodded, walked out, and gently closed the door behind him. Right before it clicked shut, he paused again.

“Good night,” Fan Qing said.

Luan Ye smiled at him. “Good night.”

…..

From where Luan Ye stayed to Fan Qing’s place, you had to pass through a section of the main street. There weren’t many people out, and the stream running through the roadside gutter made a constant rushing sound.

Fan Qing’s thoughts wandered like the water, in all directions.

Which school should he choose? Stay in the province or go out?

His grandma would definitely say not to worry about her, but his aunt only came home once or twice a year for business. If he left, his grandmother would be alone.

Luan Ye said the most important thing was what he liked… but his own school had been chosen by someone else.

Fan Qing looked up. The moon had risen, gentle and white, like that patch of skin on the back of a neck.

“He wanted to go to California, so we went.”—when Luan Ye said that, he was drinking water, his expression unreadable, tone calm.

His boyfriend.

Did he even like it himself?

…None of your business.

Fan Qing snapped out of it, frowning slightly, suddenly feeling a bit annoyed.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking.

His grandma had returned and said her checkup went well. She didn’t know much about university tiers—just that the exam was to get into college. She had called a few times to ask if he’d get in.

He had to go home and tell her. Just like Luan Ye said, even if she didn’t fully understand, he still needed to discuss it with her.

He also needed to buy a few things to bring back. New shoes, new clothes—his grandma never splurged on herself. Last time she even said her little knit hat had a hole and needed mending.

And food—he should go to town and buy a few pieces of her favorite sponge cake…

Last time he went to town was to take Luan Ye to the supermarket. Luan Ye had bought a ton of stuff—mostly necessities, not like a tourist. More like a refugee.

And he couldn’t even speak—Fan Qing had mistaken him for mute.

Why was he thinking about Luan Ye again?

Fan Qing furrowed his brows and sighed softly.

…..

The weather in Yunnan was unpredictable. Rain made it chilly, but the afternoon sun was hot when clear. The big tree in the yard blocked most of the sunlight. The breeze felt cool and pleasant.

Luan Ye reclined in a lounge chair, a random book from the teahouse resting on his face, half-dozing.

Fan Qing hadn’t sent any photos in two days. He was probably home now. 

Luan Ye let out a long sigh—he should have asked that night when Fan Qing was coming back.

Granny Mu happened to come in just then and gently patted his back.

“Young people shouldn’t sigh so much. You’ll sigh away your blessings.”

Luan Ye smiled wryly, took the book off his face, and mumbled a reply.

Granny Mu continued, “The next couple of days, we won’t be eating at home. I’m taking you to a gathering.”

“A gathering?” Luan Ye turned his head.

“Grandma Yuhua passed away. Her family’s receiving guests. I need to help out, won’t have time to cook.”

Granny Mu put down the bag she was carrying, sat on a small grass stool beside him, and began pulling out stacks of golden and silver foil paper.

“You and Xiao Qiao will eat there too.”

Luan Ye looked at the stack of paper and instantly understood what “passed away” meant.

“…I’m a stranger. I don’t even know her,” Luan Ye straightened up slightly. “Is it okay for me to go?”

Granny Mu glanced at him. “What do you mean you don’t know her? When you were sick after just arriving, I went to her house to ask for loquat leaves to boil for tea. The pears were from her too. You even bought her calcium tablets once—don’t you remember?”

Luan Ye immediately recalled.

“She lived to ninety-four, passed in her sleep at night. No illness or pain her whole life. At that age, it’s considered a blessing.”

Compared to Luan Ye’s solemn demeanor, Granny Mu appeared much calmer, skillfully folding paper foils. Her rough, skinny hands bore the traces of time.

“In our village, we call it a ‘joyous funeral.’ The whole village helps out,” Granny Mu said. “You’re living here now, so you’re half a villager. Just come along and eat.”

Where I’m from, this would probably be called crashing a wake… or a funeral meal…

“Crashing a meal, huh? Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?” Luan Ye chuckled.

“What, you’re superstitious now? Think it’s unlucky?” Granny Mu laughed.

“…Not that,” Luan Ye wanted to sigh but held back, worried she’d scold him. “It’s just… we weren’t very close.”

“A birth is a banquet, a death is a banquet—it’s all part of the same cycle, welcoming and sending off.”

With a few quick folds, the paper in her hand turned into a gold ingot. Granny Mu picked up another sheet.

“Weddings or funerals, both are lively occasions around here. There’s really no difference.”

This was the first time Luan Ye had heard this philosophy—it left him slightly dazed.

“Then I—”

He couldn’t really say no and felt a little anxious. “How much should I bring for a condolence gift?”

This place was full of ethnic minorities, right? What if there were taboos? If he gave too much or too little and accidentally offended someone, would they kick him out?

The condolence gift should be cash… so he’d have to go withdraw money too.

Granny Mu waved her hand firmly. “No need. Just come with me.”

“…That’s so casual.” Luan Ye nodded. “Alright.”

Even though he agreed aloud, when Granny Mu bowed her head again to focus on folding the ingots, Luan Ye still sent a message to Fan Qing.

Luan Ye: “How much do you guys usually give for condolence money at funeral banquets?”

Fan Qing didn’t reply right away. Luan Ye didn’t know what he was busy with. After dinner, he returned to his room, picked up his phone, and saw there was still no response.

Aside from the call on score-checking day, their WeChat conversation still sat at the last photo Fan Qing had sent. It hadn’t been that long, really, but since Fan Qing was his only contact during this period, the sudden silence was a bit unsettling.

Wasn’t he supposed to be the ever-available guide?

Luan Ye tapped Fan Qing’s profile picture twice, and a line of small text popped up:

“You patted Fan Qing and he replied: Don’t pat. Just say it.”

…What the hell?

So cool. Luan Ye was amused. After a while, he tapped twice again.

“Don’t pat. Just say it.”

I’ll pat. I’ll pat, I’ll pat.

He repeated this five or six times before Fan Qing finally responded—the chat window showed he was typing, but no message came through. Luan Ye grew impatient and tapped him again.

The next second, a voice call popped up.

Luan Ye could already imagine Fan Qing’s expression. He laughed for a while before picking up.

On the other end, it was very quiet. Luan Ye heard Fan Qing sigh, probably pretty annoyed, but when he spoke, his tone had a hint of a smile.

“What are you doing?”