To say he was sorry, Xiao Fengtai made over a hundred phone calls from the moment he saw the message.
"I'm sorry, I said the wrong thing in a fit of anger. Please give me a chance to explain."
"It was my fault for not considering things from your perspective. Can we talk again?"
"What do you want me to do to forgive me? I'll do anything."
...
Long blocks of text in a mix of Chinese and English filled the screen from his side, but there was never a reply. Jiang Tong’s silence grew in volume and weight as time passed. A flowing, viscous, stagnant silence gradually filled the air around Xiao Fengtai.
The more panicked he became, the more desperately he apologized; the lack of response only doubled his panic. Acting on instinct in his state of utter helplessness, he lowered himself further and further, pressing himself into the dust and then stepping on himself firmly.
Ultimately, he bribed Lu She, whom he hadn't contacted in a long time, to corner Jiang Tong at his doorstep. It was early morning, yet the man had only just returned home, reeking of cooking fumes. His T-shirt was spotted with sauce stains, and dark, bruised shadows hung beneath his eyes.
During their time together, they had initially disliked each other, then moved toward understanding, appreciation, ambiguous flirtation, and finally, sincere affection. No matter the setting—Singapore, Beijing, the Xiao residence, or the small woods near Jiang Tong’s university—Jiang Tong always maintained the same posture: rimless glasses, simple and clean clothes, a straight back, and neat short hair that only yielded a faint, almost imperceptible scent of mint shampoo when one drew close. It was an old-fashioned, almost boring kind of handsome. As a person, Jiang Tong was as comfortable as lukewarm water, yet he never drew a single unnecessary glance in a crowd.
The image of the indifferent, gentle young man in his memory overlapped with the disheveled figure before him, searing into Xiao Fengtai’s retinas. A sharp, physical sting followed; he felt his eyes grow hot, as if physiological tears were welling up from staring directly into a blinding light. Xiao Fengtai was swallowed by a deeper layer of guilt.
Jiang Tong wasn't surprised to see him at the door, but he frowned slightly. "Are you skipping class?"
Xiao Fengtai reached for his hand, but after taking a single step, he hesitated and retreated.
"I was wrong," he said softly. "You were right. I shouldn't have interfered in your life, and I definitely shouldn't have... shouldn't have said those things."
Jiang Tong turned his head to avoid his gaze. "Go back to class. We'll talk about our situation later."
He moved past Xiao Fengtai, pulling out his keys to open the door.
Xiao Fengtai followed him with a step back, his entire body practically pressed against the door to block Jiang Tong’s progress. "Teacher Jiang, please forgive me!"
Jiang Tong lowered his hand. Xiao Fengtai was finally able to look him in the eye; the young man's eyes were bloodshot and the rims were red. If he hadn't known Jiang Tong had been working through the night, Xiao Fengtai would have almost thought he had been crying quietly in the dark, just like himself.
"You weren't wrong; it's just that we aren't a good fit." Jiang Tong spoke without expression, looking so exhausted that he couldn't even move his facial muscles.
"Stopping here is for the best for both of us."
"You're lying."
Xiao Fengtai, drawing courage from some unknown source, lunged forward and threw his arms around Jiang Tong. The pungent scent of sour sweat and spicy seasonings stimulated his eyes, finally making his tears fall.
Jiang Tong’s body stiffened. He struggled slightly to break free, but he was too tired, and Xiao Fengtai held him so tightly that he eventually let his arms hang, allowing Xiao Fengtai to pin his body against him.
"I'll never like anyone else again," Xiao Fengtai’s voice was thick with sobs. "If we stop here, things will never be okay again. I won't be okay, and neither will you, Teacher Jiang."
"I know you don't want to part with me either."
"Teacher, I'm sorry. I know I was wrong."
Jiang Tong stood silently in place, motionless. After a few minutes—or perhaps it was hours, a century—Xiao Fengtai heard Jiang Tong let out a soft sigh.
"You little fool." He reached out and ruffled Xiao Fengtai’s hair. "I'm the one who should say I'm sorry."
It felt like just one of their usual arguments. Although the scale had exceeded the norm, it had ended without further disaster. When he heard Jiang Tong’s words and grew even more emboldened, hanging half his weight on the young man, Xiao Fengtai sincerely believed that.
The change happened imperceptibly.
Though they had reconciled, Jiang Tong still refused Xiao Fengtai’s financial assistance. Not only that, he was a man of his word; before the semester ended, he returned every cent of the surplus tutoring fees to Xiao Fengtai.
With expenses surging and income plummeting, Jiang Tong could only redouble his efforts, seizing every possible part-time opportunity. Just as his young partner had predicted, the time they spent together became pitifully scarce. Once final exams were over and Jiang Tong returned to Beijing, he could only find brief windows in his frantic schedule to contact Xiao Fengtai via video.
Jiang Tong and Xiao Fengtai didn't contact each other frequently, but there was a benefit to that infrequency. With the previous lesson fresh in his mind, Xiao Fengtai no longer poured out his emotions and thoughts to Jiang Tong as willfully as before. The young man's pride was a hidden landmine to Xiao Fengtai. By the time he realized the danger, he was already in the middle of a minefield, needing to be extremely careful with every step forward or backward.
Last weekend, he received an admission letter from an Ivy League school on the East Coast. Although the school wasn't his first choice, it was within an acceptable range. When he saw the "Congratulations" in the email, his first instinct was to call Jiang Tong. He even opened his contacts, but the moment he went to press the call button, he hesitated.
He felt vaguely that something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He could only comfort himself by thinking that Jiang Tong had a busy schedule and might not be reachable if he called out of the blue. So, he made an appointment with Jiang Tong. Besides sharing the good news, he mainly wanted to discuss their next steps.
Jiang Tong spent most of his time at the hospital accompanying his family. When the call connected, the background was always the mottled, grayish-white walls of the inpatient department hallway. One could faintly hear the rumble of carts, the chaotic footsteps of relatives and medical staff, and the crinkle of plastic bags—a type of irritating white noise.
The hallway had no windows, and the ceiling lights were underpowered. What was originally five parts exhaustion was magnified to ten in the dim light. Facing Jiang Tong’s weary, numb face, the mental draft Xiao Fengtai had spent all week refining rotted in his gut; he couldn't say a single word.
"What is it?" Jiang Tong was the first to break the silence. "You made a point to schedule a time; is there something you want to discuss?"
Xiao Fengtai cleared his throat and found his voice.
"Yeah, I have some good news to tell you." The corners of his mouth turned up, his eyes brightened, and the lift of his facial muscles was almost exaggerated. He forced himself to make a smile that could be called sweet. "I received an offer from a school in the US."
"It wasn't my first choice, more of a safety school," he added. "But at least it's certain I can go to America now."
Jiang Tong would be happy, right? The moment the words left his mouth, he heard his own heart beating violently. They rarely mentioned the future now, perhaps both having noticed the thick clouds gathering over their horizon. But now, those clouds seemed to have parted briefly, revealing a sliver of blue sky.
His happiness didn't seem to be contagious. For a split second, Jiang Tong’s pupils dilated and his gaze drifted, as if Xiao Fengtai’s offer was completely outside his expectations.
"Kenneth, that's amazing." Jiang Tong quickly adjusted his expression, looking sincerely happy for him.
"Even without experience, you successfully applied to a US school. That's truly incredible." Jiang Tong smiled. "You're much better than me."
Xiao Fengtai froze. "What?"
"Ah, I guess I haven't told you yet." The young man continued to smile, speaking in the casual tone one might use to discuss what to have for dinner. "I haven't received any offers yet. I might have to stay in Singapore to work."
"That's impossible," Xiao Fengtai said categorically. He didn't know if he was firmly denying the fact before him or the future Jiang Tong was pointing toward.
"If you haven't received them, just wait a bit longer. Check your spam folder; maybe there's something there."
"Five schools. Three rejections, one waiting list, and one result still pending." Jiang Tong spoke slowly, every word clear and complete, as if they had physical form and weight, launched from the other side of the screen to hit Xiao Fengtai in a rapid succession of thuds.
"The one that hasn't responded is the lab I want to go to most; they only take three people globally every year. Both of my safety schools sent rejections. My senior said it's because my CV was written too detailed and full, letting them see that my motives weren't pure—that I was treating them as backups."
"What should we do?" Jiang Tong’s smile seemed to broaden slightly, as if he were lamenting the absurd reality of their reversed positions. "Maybe next summer, it'll be my turn to see you off at the airport as you head to America."
"Remember to send me a postcard when you get to school."
