Chapter 112: Side Story 12

The transition between spring and summer.

The background of the shot was the main thoroughfare of T University. Deep green trees blotted out the sky, and a telephoto lens sat on the sidewalk; its excellent depth of field made the road stretch into infinity, making the features of the people under the trees stand out even more.

Dressed in a sharp, capable black suit—yet with every button left undone, including the collar of his white shirt—Dou Sheng exuded a sense of unrestrained freedom. He rested his left hand on Xie Lan’s shoulder and raised a defiant eyebrow at the camera.

“To the great Yingzhong!”

Xie Lan, just as in high school, wore a simple white T-shirt. “To the beautiful Teacher Hu.”

Dou Sheng reached his right hand forward and snapped his fingers crisply in front of the lens. “To the wise Old Ma!”

Both spoke in unison: “Happy 50th Anniversary!”

Bicycles sped past with the sound of the wind, and nearby was the clicking sound of a camera’s autofocus. But Dou Sheng and Xie Lan fell into a mutual silence for a moment.

Dou Sheng was the first to frown. “I suddenly feel like there’s something wrong with the message you wrote.”

Xie Lan rolled his eyes toward the sky, reciting the lines under his breath. “Great Yingzhong, beautiful Teacher Hu, wise Old Ma… Eh, it seems… something is indeed wrong.”

Dou Sheng clapped his hands, laughing so hard he almost fell off Xie Lan’s shoulder. “Old Ma and Old Hu aren’t fifty! It’s Yingzhong’s birthday, not theirs. You can’t put them in the front like that!”

Xie Lan was dazed for two seconds. “Oh, right. Then… let’s start over. I’ll think of something else.”

“No rush.” Dou Sheng took down the camera and picked up the tripod. “You think. I’ll take some scenic shots around here to edit in later.”

Xie Lan hummed and sat down on a nearby public bench. A gentle breeze blew, feeling very comfortable on his face.

He watched Dou Sheng across the way—his steady, professional attire still couldn’t erase the unchanging youthful spirit he’d held for years. As he strode along clutching the tripod, he looked as if he were holding the whole world, his dark eyes bright with joy.

In the blink of an eye, it was senior year.

He and Dou Sheng had applied for graduate school at Cambridge together recently because Dou Sheng said he wanted to live for two years in the city where Xie Lan grew up. The offers had arrived over two months ago. Dou Sheng had immediately entered a law firm for an internship, while Xie Lan continued to leisurely take on commercial music arrangements, occasionally pondering what he would do in the future.

Speaking of the future… Xie Lan let out a slightly lost sigh.

His friends all seemed to have more of a plan than he did. For example, Ye Si had just finished his professional master’s at the hospital and was heading abroad for a PhD project, with He Xiu transferring to accompany him. Zhong Chen was doing swimmingly in investment banking, and Jian Zixing’s medical robot project was finally seeing the light of day. Their neighbor “Gouzi” (Wang Gou), studying Finance at P University, had the life ideal of benefiting the whole world, focused entirely on the civil service exam to enter a ministry.

His other friends were mostly staying for their master’s degrees with clear career goals, busy with internships or research. Even Dou Sheng had fallen in love with Law; over the years, his “Douzi’s Case Files” column had attracted countless fans, and barring any surprises, he would join a law firm directly after grad school.

But Xie Lan still didn’t know what he should do. The department leadership wanted him to pursue a PhD at Cambridge and return to be a professor, but he didn’t think he had the eloquence for teaching. In the future… would he just keep doing what he was doing now? Holding concerts, selling compositions?

It wasn’t impossible, and thinking about it made him happy. Studying math for both bachelor’s and master’s didn’t matter; it was all for fun.

“Xie Lan!” Dou Sheng waved his phone from the other side of the road. “What are you dazing about? Check if the clips ‘Herring’ and the others sent are okay.”

Xie Lan gave an “oh” and pulled his phone from his pocket. For Yingzhong’s 50th anniversary, Physics & Math Class A was submitting a celebratory video. Xie Lan was the director, Dong Shuijian was in charge of gathering people, and Dou Sheng was handling post-production.

Before he and Dou Sheng had even finished recording their part, everyone’s assignments were flooding in.

• Gouzi Wangwang: I felt so embarrassed recording this, hehe.
• Cherries (Che Ziming): Get out of here, yours is the only serious one.
• Latte Coffee (Dai You): True, true. Che Ziming, your video is way too moronic.
• Cherries: How is it moronic? This is the style of J University!
• Crystal (Dong Shuijian): This dress makes me look a bit fat.
• Liu Yixuan: Not fat at all, you must have secretly lost weight again.
• Chen Small-Boat (Chen Ge): Not fat.
• Herring (Yu Fei): So annoying. @Xie Lan, is it okay or not? We’re still waiting at the shoot location.

Xie Lan hurriedly replied: “Checking now.”

Wang Gou was indeed the most serious. He stood in a sharp suit in front of P University’s gates. “I am Wang Gou, a Finance major at P University. I used to be biased toward certain subjects in high school, but Teacher Ma scouted me from a small village to Yingzhong. The school gave me a full scholarship, allowing me to knock on the doors of top institutions through math competitions. This kindness is like being born again! I hope to carry Yingzhong’s teachings to help more people. Fifty years of my alma mater, may it create more glory!”

This speech was ridiculously formal and would have been awkward from anyone else, but it suited Wang Gou perfectly and was even a bit moving.

Xie Lan clicked the next one. It was from Dai You. About ten people from the class had gone to F University; they stood together in the video singing the Yingzhong school song. Class President Dong Shuijian was at the center, Dai You to her right, and Chen Ge—who had left in junior year but returned in university—to her left.

After the song, they took turns reporting their majors. Dong Shuijian was second to last. She had been a decisive president, but this time she looked a bit shy. She had tied her hair into the high ponytail she wore in high school. “Dong Shuijian, Information Management and Systems at F University. Happy birthday to my alma mater!”

Chen Ge naturally put his hand on her shoulder and smiled faintly. “Chen Ge, Flight Vehicle Design and Engineering at F University. Happy birthday to my alma mater! Here’s to the next fifty years.”

“And after the next fifty, another hundred,” Dong Shuijian’s cheeks were a bit red, but she smiled happily. “I wish my beloved teachers students all over the world. Physics & Math Class A: gathered, we are a fire; scattered, we are a sky full of stars!”

Dai You laughed: “Scattered, we are a sky full of owls.” (Note: A pun on their “owl” nickname for the class).

The group of ten burst into laughter. Xie Lan couldn’t help but post a “cat-thumbs-up” emoji in the group.

Xie Lan: F University’s clip is great.

Cherries: Agreed. “Sky full of owls” had me dying. “The moon sets, owls cry, frost fills the sky”?

Herring: Get some culture. Do owls “cry” like crows (wū)?

Gouzi Wangwang: Xie Lan knows! Lan! Tell him what an owl is!

Xie Lan: …It’s a xiāo (owl/hawk).

Douzi: Are you guys sick? Attacking each other, why bring Xie Lan into it?

Crystal: Break it up, Douzi is protecting him again, how boring.

Chen Small-Boat: Boring.

Douzi: @Chen Small-Boat, isn’t being a broken record boring?

Chen Small-Boat: Very exciting.

Liu Yixuan: You guys are so sweet it’s killing me.

Herring: Yu Fei and I (Croissant) are still the most low-key.

Cherries: Hehehe shut up. Dai You, Gouzi, let’s start a new group to isolate these couples!

Douzi: Tsk, don’t know who is isolating whom.

Cherries: …Damn!!

Gouzi Wangwang: Uh… Che-Che… I have something to tell you.

Cherries: What is it?

Gouzi Wangwang: I actually, about two months ago… uh, got a girlfriend, so maybe…

Cherries: DAMN??!!

“Cherries” immediately started a group voice call. Xie Lan had already met Wang Gou’s girlfriend, so he didn’t join and continued watching the videos.

The third was from J University—a group including Che Ziming, Yu Fei, and Liu Yixuan. Coincidentally, besides Che and Yu, everyone else from their class at J-U was female. Liu Yixuan had choreographed a short ancient-style dance; the girls danced gracefully in the back while Yu Fei and Che Ziming stood on either side like two pillars, which was quite comical.

When the dance ended and the girls finished the message, Che Ziming waved his arms: “Confetti!!”

Yu Fei was about to raise his hands, but pulled them back halfway and sighed, looking at Che Ziming like he was an idiot.

Che Ziming stared back. “Stop looking at me like that, your girlfriend planned this.”

“That’s the thing…” Yu Fei muttered. “When I heard the plan, it was supposed to be elegant with a hint of playfulness. I didn’t expect it to be this ‘low-IQ’… maybe it’s just you who’s low-IQ.”

Xie Lan, sitting on the bench with his headphones, nearly laughed out loud. He exited the small group and went to the class group to collect the rest of the clips.

Dou Sheng returned from his shoot. “The light is perfect today. I’ll apply for drone permission later to get a few cinematic seconds.”

Xie Lan hummed. Dou Sheng set down the tripod and laughed: “So, Director Lan, have you thought of our message yet?”

“No,” Xie Lan sighed, looking up at the lush leaves above. “There’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know what to say anymore.”

Almost four years had passed, but every bit of life at Yingzhong was still fresh in his memory, as if it would never fade.

Dou Sheng laughed: “Think some more. I’ll go do one more round over there.”

“Mm.”

Xie Lan watched his back recede and watched the people and bikes on the road, not thinking about the message at all. His head was full of the fact that it was May again—soon the plane trees would bloom. Auntie Zhao said the weather was warm this year and it hadn’t rained much all spring, so they would likely bloom well. When they did, the entire Yingzhong campus would be soaked in pale purple and white petals, just like back then.

Soon Dou Sheng was back with something in his hand. Before Xie Lan could see what it was, something cold was dropped into his lap. A purple package of grape ice.

“If you can’t think of it, we’ll film tomorrow afternoon. Isn’t the deadline tomorrow night?” Dou Sheng took the grape ice back, tore it open, and held it to his mouth. “Eat some ice to refresh your brain.”

The cool air spread across his lips. Xie Lan took it. “It’s not even that hot yet.”

He said so, but still took several bites before naturally holding it to Dou Sheng’s mouth. Dou Sheng took a bite along the round tooth marks and laughed, “Can’t eat ice if it’s not hot?”

He suddenly turned his head and pecked Xie Lan on the lips, whispering, “I’m eating it anyway.”

Three or four bikes whizzed past. Panicked, Xie Lan instinctively pushed him away, but the students were rushing downhill and didn’t spare them a glance. Dou Sheng’s low laughter echoed in his ear.

“Little Xie Lan, if you don’t let go, what’s the difference between this and me kissing you the whole time in public?”

His hand was still clutching Dou Sheng’s collar, wrinkling the sharp white shirt. Xie Lan coughed and let go, saying calmly, “There’s a difference. They might think I’m about to punch you.”

“Would you have the heart to?” Dou Sheng dragged the tripod, walking backward to face him. “Your boyfriend is so handsome, would you really punch him?”

Xie Lan curled his lip. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Tell me first if you have the heart to.”

“I do.”

“Tsk, then tell me if saying you have the heart to punch me is true or false?”

“It’s true.”

“And was that last sentence true or false?”

Xie Lan froze. “True.”

Dou Sheng’s smile widened. “Is it? I think you’re lying. Do you think I’m lying or telling the truth?”

“…”

In broad daylight, Xie Lan slapped Dou Sheng’s black suit jacket, snapping, “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

Dou Sheng laughed until he coughed. “How do you still fall for it? We’ve played this so many times… Whoa! Stop! Don’t hit! My god… you’re serious!”

Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, Dou Sheng ran like the wind with his tripod, his features as vivid as in their youth. Perhaps even more vivid than when Xie Lan first saw him.

---

“Go go go!! Push!!”

The room was filled with the noisy clicking of keyboard and mouse. Dou Sheng sat cross-legged in his gaming chair, staring tensely at the screen. His pajama sleeves were rolled to his shoulders, revealing the muscle lines from his recent workouts.

“There’s an AK here, come loot it.”

“That 98K should be dead in the small warehouse. I’m going for his 8x scope, cover me.”

“Wait wait wait… damn, what are you doing? You can’t even hold the angle.”

The bedroom door was ajar, and Dou Sheng’s dissatisfied expression was arrogant to the extreme. He cleared out an ambushing enemy and muttered while looting, “Seriously, in the future, for our monthly gaming streams, let’s just play ‘retirement’ games. Mahjong, building blocks, anything but competitive stuff. If I don’t invite you viewers, you beg; if I do, you’re all so ‘trash’.”

A teammate’s voice immediately rang out: “Hey, we gave you all the good gear and you call us trash?”

Another deep-voiced guy cursed back: “I’m at a 6000 rating, I’m carrying you, alright? Stop the BS.”

The only female fan in the squad said: “Douzi, uh… you are kind of trash.”

Dou Sheng looked at the screen wordlessly. The chat was exploding.

• I’m going to die laughing.
• You’re the only one without a sniper rifle, what do you need an 8x scope for?
• Started a competitive game but still playing like it’s Mahjong.
• Viewers: Mmp, terrible host, don’t invite me next time.

Dou Sheng glanced at the chat and raised his voice: “Are you guys still—”

“Dou Sheng.”

Xie Lan pushed the door open, holding an iPad with Bluetooth earbuds in. The moment he appeared, the chat shifted direction.

• Hi Wife!!
• Lan-zai is here!
• Good evening, Lan-zai!!
• Lan-zai, come see how trash your (fake) boyfriend is!

Xie Lan didn’t look at the chat, only frowning at Dou Sheng. “Can you be a bit quieter? I’m editing the anniversary video.”

The arrogance and indignation on Dou Sheng’s face vanished instantly. He nodded repeatedly at the camera. “Right… sorry… was I being loud? The teammates were too trash, I couldn’t control my temper.”

Teammates protested through the speakers:

“Crap, you—”

“You f*cking—”

Click. Dou Sheng muted the output.

Waves of laughter rolled through the chat as he smiled at Xie Lan, acting as if nothing had happened.

Xie Lan hummed. “Just have fun, I’m just reminding you. Wutong is sleeping, you woke him up.”

“Understood,” Dou Sheng said solemnly.

Xie Lan turned and left. Not long after, through the door crack, Dou Sheng’s deliberately lowered voice sounded.

“Friends, cover me, I’m going for the car.”

“Can you guys!—Can you even do it, uh.” After a sudden roar, he lowered his voice again. “Sigh, forget it, I’ll crawl over myself.”

Xie Lan sat back down on the beanbag in the living room and stroked Wutong, who was sleeping spread-eagle. Wutong was six now and fat as a pig. To be precise, Xie Lan didn’t even know if a six-year-old pig could be as fat as Wutong. When a cat has too much meat, it seems to lose sensitivity to touch; he just lay there and let himself be petted without resisting.

Actually, he had finished editing the video already; he just needed to record a clip with Dou Sheng tomorrow to add to the end. The iPad screen was currently on the official website for an apartment in London.

After his thesis defense in late June, he and Dou Sheng would fly to London in August. Xie Jingming had suggested several times that they stay with him during grad school, but Xie Lan had refused. London rent was expensive, and luxury apartments in the city center were sky-high, but he’d calculated that his income from commercial commissions this year would be enough for them to live there until graduation.

The apartment he’d chosen was luxurious, but it had great lighting to meet all of Dou Sheng’s filming needs. The balcony also overlooked the Thames, which Dou Sheng liked.

Xie Lan followed the booking process, choosing the room type, size, orientation, and facilities… until the system popped up a best match. He checked the floor plans and photos before filling in the order information.

Number of occupants: 2

Relationship: Couple

Occupant 1: Sheng Dou

Occupant 2: Lan Xie

He quickly entered the ID info and switched to credit card payment. A deposit of £3,400 was instantly transferred.

“Eh?” Dou Sheng suddenly shouted from the room. “Xie Lan! You seemed to have received a bank notification!”

Xie Lan then remembered his phone was on Dou Sheng’s desk. “Oh! I… uh, bought a piece of clothing.”

Dou Sheng hummed. “Quite expensive.”

Xie Lan kept quiet. It was a little surprise he wasn’t ready to tell Dou Sheng yet.

Dou Sheng went back to his game without asking further. But out of guilt, Xie Lan secretly opened the livestream to see Dou Sheng’s expression. He was immediately startled by the chat.

• You’ve got guts, daring to question how your (fake) wife spends money!
• Dared to ask, but didn’t dare to ask fully.
• LOL, only dared to ask a little bit.
• Only dared to complain about the price in a tiny, tiny voice.
• No, you’re all wrong. Dou is annoyed that he missed the chance to buy the clothes for his (fake) wife.
• I’ve always wondered, who manages the money?
• That depends on if Lan-zai wants to.
• Look at the host, does he look like he has any status in the household?

Dou Sheng glanced at the chat while playing. “You guys know jack-sh*t.”

• He’s getting defensive.
• He’s mad.

Xie Lan curled his lips and tossed the iPad aside. The Cambridge offers were in, their visas were approved, the house was rented, the car and insurance dealers were contacted, and even Wutong’s export quarantine was done. Everything was ready.

In two months, they would bid farewell to this small home that had accompanied them for four years and start a new life in London. He remembered how he’d once resisted going back to the UK—the place where he grew up—even for a day. But perhaps the years had softened him. He felt that going back was fine now; it was just for grad school, and they would return eventually.

Or perhaps, it was Dou Sheng who had softened him.

After a while, the gaming sounds stopped. Dou Sheng said a quick goodbye to the viewers, shut down, and opened the door. “Shower? Together?”

Xie Lan snapped back to reality. “Let’s film the message.”

“Now?” Dou Sheng looked down at his pajamas. “In the house?”

Xie Lan shook his head. “Go back to where we were this afternoon. Wear the same clothes. Bring a ring light.”

It was a strange request, but Dou Sheng didn’t hesitate. He snapped his fingers with a grin. “Your wish is my command.”

---

In the final cut, Xie Lan and Dou Sheng’s segment was placed at the very end.

On a deep, quiet T-U night, two tall boys stood together. The one in the suit had his arm lazily draped over the shoulder of the one in the white T-shirt.

Dou Sheng laughed: “To the great Yingzhong!”

Xie Lan raised his chin slightly toward the lens: “Fifty years.”

“Happy Birthday!”

“Happy Birthday!”

“Teacher’s grace is as deep as the sea. May Old Hu shake the four seas!”

“Students all over the world. May Old Ma receive wealth from all directions.”

Dou Sheng burst out laughing. Xie Lan glanced at him and whispered, “Be serious.”

“Oh, right. Serious, serious.” Dou Sheng stood straight.

Xie Lan smiled gently at the camera. “Thank you, Yingzhong. Thank you, teachers. Thank you, Physics & Math Class A, for sending us to such a great university.”

The screen then transitioned into a montage of university life from all over. There was Wang Gou doing volunteer teaching in his sophomore year, covered in dirt while grinning with dozens of village kids. There was Chen Ge participating in an Aerospace Agency project, shaking hands with technical directors only seen on the news. There was Liu Yixuan organizing a thousand-person dance flash mob at F University.

…

There was the moot court, with Dou Sheng in a suit standing at the defense table. His words were sharp and resonant, every gesture carrying the confidence of a great lawyer. Then there was Xie Lan in formal wear, sitting in a shell-structured concert hall. He drew his bow and led the orchestra, the beautiful bowing causing a tremor as a hundred instruments rose behind him. A wave of sound, like a solemn and elegant wind, swept through the T-U campus architecture.

…

The university lives of Class A were scattered across the world, but each held a cluster of light. Until the clips ended and returned to the quiet T-U campus at night. The two warm, familiar youths were still there.

“Dou Sheng, Physics & Math Class A.”

“Xie Lan, Physics & Math Class A.”

“Respectfully submitted.”

---

Author’s Note:

Lan-Egg: Happy Birthday to our great Egg House!

Dou-Egg: May wealth roll in and may there be eggs every year!

Lan-Egg: To our favorite Keyboard-thumper!

Dou-Egg: Click-clack, bang-bang-bang-bang!

Lan-Egg: The cutest Lan-Egg.

Dou-Egg: The most dashing Dou-Egg.

Lan-Egg & Dou-Egg: Respectfully submitted!

Keyboard-thumper: Well, thank you very much.