Chapter 13#
Chapter 13#
Zhang Xingchuan had kept it in mind ever since hearing Tan Xiao say he wanted to “gap” over the phone, worried if Tan Xiao had encountered some problem.
“Why the sudden holiday for yourself?” he asked.
“It’s nothing,” Tan Xiao explained. “The results of the blind review for my thesis won’t be out for another month. Preparing more for the defense now might be a waste of effort, so I might as well take a break.”
Hearing him say this and seeing that he seemed to be in a good state personally, Zhang Xingchuan was temporarily relieved.
As they were talking, Tan Xiao looked outside and found that Secretary Feng was still pretending to work while secretly observing them.
Zhang Xingchuan looked out following his gaze and also noticed this.
“After being teased by you like that once,” Zhang Xingchuan said amusedly, “Secretary Feng could probably dig out a whole Ming Tomb under his workstation with his toes (from embarrassment).”
“Then I’m truly sorry to him.” Tan Xiao’s sweet-talking skill was triggered; he would praise the CEO’s newly favored talent no matter what. He said, “Secretary Feng is quite good-looking, and I heard his resume is also excellent.”
Zhang Xingchuan, an overt lover of beauty, wouldn’t proactively judge people by their looks when screening talent, but based on his subconscious, it was hard for him to pick an ugly person.
Secretary Feng was a delicate-looking young man; special assistant Jiaxin was also a tall beauty.
The previous “little colt” Tan Xiao, who was chosen by Zhang Xingchuan but was bent on “kicking” (resisting/refusing), was even a beautiful college guy of 1.87 meters with some abdominal muscles.
Zhang Xingchuan hadn’t paid much attention to Secretary Feng’s looks; overall, he wasn’t bad-looking.
He was never stingy with praising others and said, “His looks are okay, clean and neat. His resume is decent, and he’s also a young alumnus of mine.”
It turned out Secretary Feng had done his Master’s at the same Ivy League school as Zhang Xingchuan. Zhang Xingchuan’s major was Computer Science, while Secretary Feng studied Management. There was an age gap, so they hadn’t met before.
Tan Xiao said with a smile, “Nice, that’s good.”
In his heart, he was actually thinking: “Also an alumnus.” What did “also” mean? From where did this “also” come?
Secretary Feng just happened to “also” sit at that workstation.
Was it that, inside and outside that partition glass, Zhang Xingchuan “also” had nothing to do but exchange messages and have private chats with Secretary Feng?
No, this “CEO-bro,” why was he so fond of private contact with employees? Why be an entrepreneur? He should go be a celebrity.
Tan Xiao didn’t know he was coolly deducting points, and because he had accumulated a thick layer of “health” (points) earlier, they wouldn’t run out for a while. However, he had already been demoted from “Brother” (Gege) to “CEO-bro.”
CEO-bro was still blathering on: “Secretary Feng’s personality is a bit ‘slow-to-warm,’ but he’s very serious and meticulous in his work, which makes him very suitable for administrative work.”
Tan Xiao couldn’t manage a smile and said flatly, “That’s truly quite good.”
Zhang Xingchuan noticed that Tan Xiao wasn’t very fond of Secretary Feng.
Tan Xiao, this “little social bandit,” had rarely met a “soft nail” (polite refusal/lack of response) from Secretary Feng. Zhang Xingchuan thought this was the reason.
The CEO also rarely misunderstood the meaning.
Mainly, he never imagined that the generous and open-minded Tan Xiao would suddenly start being petty—even a casually said “also” could annoy him.
The CEO, as if possessed by Vice President Sun, said a stupid thing he thought was humorous: “He’s not like you, playing with whoever you see and getting close to whoever you play with.”
Okay, okay, okay, he’s not like me. He’s so good, go be close to him then.
Tan Xiao was truly going to be infuriated by CEO-bro.
He wasn’t originally targeting Secretary Feng; Secretary Feng was just looking for a job and working seriously, not bothering anyone.
It was CEO-bro who loved the new and loathed the old. Who knows who gets close to whoever they see?
Tan Xiao pursed his lips and stopped speaking.
“…” Zhang Xingchuan noticed something was wrong and thought the sudden “gap” might have another hidden meaning. He said, “Did something happen at school?”
“No,” Tan Xiao said. “The flowers you took care of are quite good; I’ve seen them. There’s nothing else. I’ll head back now; there are many things to do at school.”
Zhang Xingchuan finally realized he seemed to have made someone unhappy.
But had he done anything? The CEO was momentarily bewildered.
When Tan Xiao said he wanted to leave, he didn’t really want to; he was actually waiting for Zhang Xingchuan to persuade him to stay.
“Then I’ll drop you off at school on my way?” Zhang Xingchuan said. “I have nothing else to do either; I can go home after work.”
I’ll ask more on the way, he thought.
With Secretary Feng and other employees watching outside the partition glass, he didn’t want to ask the “kid” here and make him cry. The pressure of a PhD is great—look at what it’s done to the kid.
Tan Xiao took a sharp breath. Eager to send me away, aren’t you?
But Tan Xiao’s expression management was still there, and he said politely, “No need, I’ll take the subway. I don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”
Neither of them moved, looking at each other.
They were standing by the desk, and that blue butterfly orchid happened to be right between them.
Tan Xiao looked into Zhang Xingchuan’s eyes. Zhang Xingchuan had very affectionate, gentle eyes.
He could probably look at a dog with such affection that the dog would be mesmerized.
In this moment, it was as if a lump of cotton had been stuffed into Tan Xiao’s chest, making it a bit uncomfortably blocked.
What was this feeling? He had never had it before.
Zhang Xingchuan suddenly laughed, his voice very gentle. He said, “What’s wrong with you today?”
With this laugh, Tan Xiao’s head suddenly cleared, and he objectively realized that his inner monologue just now was way too much—he was acting like a neurotic.
He was sure Zhang Xingchuan had seen through it a bit.
“I…” Tan Xiao was instantly embarrassed. Forcing himself to save face, he said, “I was joking with you.”
Zhang Xingchuan said, “Where is the punchline of this joke?”
Tan Xiao said, “To see if you, this ‘capybara,’ really never get angry.”
It was the first time in Zhang Xingchuan’s life he had heard someone use “capybara” to describe him.
It was a metaphorical description he could quickly understand—it meant he was emotionally stable.
In his view, Tan Xiao was the active and gentle-tempered college guy.
Today’s situation was very unusual.
“You’re the one like a capybara,” Zhang Xingchuan said with a smile.
He reached out wanting to touch Tan Xiao—a pat on the shoulder or a squeeze of the arm, a very common physical interaction between guys.
But his hand made a turn in mid-air and didn’t touch Tan Xiao. Instead, he placed it on the Wencheng mascot next to the butterfly orchid, gently stroking the ornament as if petting a cat.
He already had a vague understanding of what Tan Xiao was angry about. As soon as this thought started, he instinctively refused to think deeper.
Zhang Xingchuan liked Tan Xiao as a young friend and cherished their relationship very much. The more he cherished it, the less he wanted to scrutinize it, not wanting to ruin everything they currently had.
Tan Xiao was still annoyed and felt a bit apologetic toward Zhang Xingchuan. He was very good at self-reflection and immediately understood where the problem lay.
He wanted too much—he wanted Zhang Xingchuan to like him best, just as he liked Zhang Xingchuan best. He also wanted Zhang Xingchuan not to like anyone else. What kind of bandit logic was this? Zhang Xingchuan didn’t owe him anything.
His idea of treating a friend as private property was as arrogant and domineering as an impolite child, and it had little possibility of realization.
He understood the logic.
He looked at Zhang Xingchuan and said, “Actually, it’s because I was jealous just now. I was a bit envious of Secretary Feng.”
Zhang Xingchuan’s hand, still on the mascot, twitched, almost knocking the mascot over.
He didn’t expect Tan Xiao to just say it out loud. For a moment, he was “down” (frozen), not knowing what to say in return.
Tan Xiao understood the logic, but he also believed that keeping this “dark and damp” possessiveness in his heart would only foster its growth the more it was kept out of the light. It was better to say it out loud and tell his friend Zhang Xingchuan candidly.
“Brother,” Tan Xiao said, “I know it’s wrong for me to be so domineering, it’s very bad. I don’t want to be, but this isn’t something that can be achieved just by not wanting it.”
Zhang Xingchuan’s Adam’s apple moved, but he didn’t speak.
Tan Xiao said, “If you have any opinions to express, please say them.”
Zhang Xingchuan’s expression was relatively calm, but his heart was in turmoil.
Did this “zaizai” (kid) even know what he was saying? Suddenly… was this a confession?
Zhang Xingchuan believed he was completely outside the range of potential partners for gay men.
His self-categorization was a “cis-straight man”: a cis-straight man with ancestry from the Jiaodong Peninsula, very “red and expert” (politically correct and professional), and loved to “compete” (work hard).
Gay men probably wouldn’t choose a partner from this group.
Not to mention Tan Xiao was such a beautiful, fashionable, lively, elegant, intelligent, well-informed, multi-talented… universally-loved post-00s little gay man.
“I need some time to think,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “I’ve never experienced what you said, and I’ve never thought about it.”
Tan Xiao nodded, expressing understanding.
He understood very well. This kind of petty jealousy was indeed very immature. It was normal that Zhang Xingchuan hadn’t experienced it.
Zhang Xingchuan said, “Is it because I did something that made you misunderstand? Or…”
He couldn’t quite go on, for fear that saying any word wrong would hurt Tan Xiao.
Tan Xiao heard the familiar, “deja vu” sentence structure. He was a bit bewildered, thought for a moment, and said, “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I’ve never met a friend as much to my liking as you, so I might have gotten a bit ’too into it’ (infatuated/overly emotional).”
Zhang Xingchuan was also feeling a bit “too into it”—the problem was so tricky it made him a bit dizzy. He said, “This… I…”
Tan Xiao gradually became confused. Did such a small matter trouble Zhang Xingchuan so much?
“Forget it then,” Tan Xiao said. Having spoken out his jealousy, he indeed felt much better. He said, “Just act as if I never said anything.”
He thought Zhang Xingchuan probably really couldn’t understand this kind of possessiveness. He had never been like this with any friend before, and he couldn’t have understood his current self before today.
Tan Xiao said, “Forget it quickly. How about I treat you to dinner? I know a Lu (Shandong) restaurant that’s very good.”
Zhang Xingchuan: “…”
Zhang Xingchuan felt like he was on a drop tower ride; he was already a bit “dead.”
Tan Xiao, however, returned to his usual self and said, “Or do you have any other good recommendations?”
“I… don’t,” Zhang Xingchuan said.
“Then this one it is,” Tan Xiao said.
During dinner that night, Zhang Xingchuan spoke very little and picked up his phone from time to time, as if he had many messages to reply to.
Tan Xiao was also absent-minded, regretting being petty and even more so for showing that pettiness to Zhang Xingchuan.
Later, Zhang Xingchuan drove Tan Xiao back to school. Before parting outside the school gate, Zhang Xingchuan asked one last time, “Are you sure you really want me to forget what happened just now?”
“I’m sure,” Tan Xiao said, unfastening his seatbelt. “Don’t mention it again; I’ve already started to feel embarrassed.”
Zhang Xingchuan stared at him for a full ten-plus seconds before saying, “Okay, then I’ll forget it.”
Before getting out of the car, Tan Xiao reached his hand to Zhang Xingchuan’s ear and made a crisp snap of his fingers, saying like a spell, “One, two, three—forgot, forgot.”
A few more days later, in the evening, at “Lover’s Slope,” one of the romantic spots on the Tsinghua campus.
Chen Shu, a junior architecture student, had just finished a leisurely and sweet date here with his girlfriend.
His girlfriend had left for something, and he was still savoring the moment with a “lovesick” face when he suddenly saw a “single dog” sitting to his front right. It was Tan Xiao, a third-year PhD student in the Finance Department.
Tan Xiao had returned from a run, passed by a lawn, and sat down to space out. His thoughts had flown far away, and he hadn’t noticed that this was actually Lover’s Slope.
“Senior?” Chen Shu called him, asking curiously, “What are you doing here alone?”
Tan Xiao said, “Absorbing the essence of heaven and earth.”
Chen Shu said, “And then?”
Chen Shu wanted to ask where Tan Xiao was going next, and they could go together if it was suitable.
But Tan Xiao was a bit bewildered by the question—and then? He didn’t know either.
“I have some troubling things,” he asked Chen Shu. “Are you free? Give me some advice.”
Chen Shu said, “Sure! I’m best at giving advice; I’m the king of giving advice.”
The two “abstract” college guys sat face-to-face on the lawn, jointly holding a “Lover’s Slope Symposium.”
After Tan Xiao’s narration of “this and that, that and this.”
“So you mean,” Chen Shu seemed to understand but also not quite, “you told him you’d be jealous if he was good to others. He didn’t say anything at the time, and afterwards he hasn’t contacted you for a week?”
Tan Xiao corrected him: “It hasn’t been a week yet; today is the fifth day.”
It wasn’t that he was ignoring him; if he sent a message, Zhang Xingchuan would still reply, but he hadn’t taken the initiative to contact him.
Chen Shu added, “Let me confirm again. You two play very well together, had New Year’s Eve dinner together, spent the Spring Festival together, always have a response when messaging each other, he buys you clothes, you give him flowers, he finds you whenever he’s free, and you want to find him whenever he’s free. Is there anything incorrect in this information?”
Tan Xiao felt strange hearing it, but still respected the objective facts and said, “It’s all correct, no mistakes.”
“Senior,” Chen Shu was too bewildered and said, “are you two really not in a relationship?”