Nanke Yifu Chapter 17
bySeeking Chi Fu’s Whereabouts (Seventeen)
If you were to ask Chi Fu when he first realized he liked Yan Laixi, no matter which version of Chi Fu you asked—the one with or without memories—the answer would always be “I don’t know.”
Unconsciously, one kind of liking transformed into another. By the time Chi Fu registered the words “I like Yan Laixi,” he had already been consciously and actively pursuing him for some time.
But if you were to ask Yan Laixi when he realized he liked Chi Fu, he could state clearly that it was the day Chi Fu gave him the earrings.
There never seemed to be any particularly special moments between them; everything appeared to follow the arrangement of time, waiting for things to happen naturally.
So, those earrings didn’t actually hold any special significance. Yan Laixi had casually mentioned liking them but didn’t want pierced ears, so Chi Fu later modified them into clip-ons and gave them to him. That day also held no special meaning; it was just the day Yan Laixi sat at his computer desk that evening, holding the earrings, and suddenly asked himself a few questions.
This time, he didn’t ask himself what kind of feelings he had for Chi Fu; instead, he circled around the issue.
Yan Laixi asked himself: Could his current self accept a life without Chi Fu?
The answer was no. Chi Fu, to him, was probably like his only mobile phone. Normally, he didn’t feel it was special, and without it, a person wouldn’t get sick or die, but a person truly couldn’t live without a phone.
The second question was: Did he want to maintain their current relationship with Chi Fu? Or did he want to take it a step further?
The answer was the latter—at least, it was the latter without considering the ultimate trajectory of these feelings. This was beyond doubt.
That left only the final question: Would he… want to do the things with Chi Fu that only Lovers do?
Yan Laixi couldn’t answer.
He tried to imagine some scenarios, and he could only confirm that he wouldn’t reject them, and that was all he had time to confirm. With his ears burning red, Yan Laixi returned his attention to the computer screen, knowing that he had truly fallen for Chi Fu.
With the answers to the first two questions, the third question didn’t matter as long as the result wasn’t a complete negative. And the answers to the first two questions had already ensured that the third question wouldn’t receive a negative result.
For Yan Laixi, once various emotions reached a certain height, the boundaries between them became extremely blurred, almost nonexistent. So, when he wanted to confirm whether he harbored romantic feelings for someone, it was more accurate to say he wanted to confirm whether he harbored the expectation of establishing the deepest connection with that person. As long as the answer was “yes,” then whether that feeling was called friendship or love, whether it involved physical urges or was purely platonic, he could adjust it according to the other person’s preference.
It was precisely because of this that one person, completely unaware, hadn’t thought about which direction to take the relationship, while the other felt that any direction was fine, but after weighing the options, decided maintaining the status quo was the safest. A thin, transparent pane of glass separated them, yet because no one poked it, and someone was actively protecting it, it remained unbreakable.
Qiu Ye was perhaps the most anxious person on their behalf. The first thing he said after learning that Yan Laixi had confirmed his feelings for Chi Fu was: “If you like him, go tell him! Don’t worry, if that kid doesn’t like you, I’ll swallow the sun!”
Yan Laixi didn’t understand why Qiu Ye would need to swallow the sun, but during that time, he even felt that if Qiu Ye knew Chi Fu, he might just grab their heads and make them confess their feelings to each other on the spot.
It was funny to think that one person—who had been in a relationship, lived with someone for several years, and only then realized there might be other feelings between them—and another person—who had genuinely struggled to confirm a relationship, and six months after confirming it, they still only held hands and hugged, and even blushed if the atmosphere got slightly ambiguous—had once been crazy advisors, urging others to be proactive in love.
In short, they dragged their feet until Chi Fu was about to graduate in another six months. Even if Qiu Ye could tolerate it, the heavens could not.
Chi Fu finally had an epiphany, and fortunately, Chi Fu’s answer to the question of whether to be proactive when facing nascent love was 180 degrees opposite to Yan Laixi’s.
If Yan Laixi wouldn’t take a risk even when there was no risk, Chi Fu would try even if there was no opportunity, especially since he was certain he had a great opportunity.
But even the heavens weren’t omnipotent. One person was addicted to the chase, relentlessly pursuing but never directly asking the other person’s thoughts. The other person, if not told explicitly, defaulted to thinking they were overthinking things, dismissing all overtures as merely signs of the other person being kind.
One was secretly in love, the other was chasing. They were playing their own games, mutually attracted, with no hardships, no barriers, no accidents—they purely built their own obstacles with bricks and mortar, and instead of taking the straight path, they jumped into the river for a swim.
The turning point appeared in a flower shop in Chaoyi District, but this day actually began by the sea in the early morning.
Ever since Yan Laixi once said, “Besides eating and cooking, let’s occasionally do something else,” Chi Fu genuinely started scheduling the specific content of this “occasionally” based on how often they met. And because the frequency of their meetings was so high, this “occasionally” was really not occasional at all, at least not for Yan Laixi.
Although Yan Laixi was always enthusiastic about Chi Fu’s invitations, as a nocturnal animal who disliked going out, it was hard not to secretly complain. Yan Laixi often thought that if he could go back to before he said that sentence, he would definitely cover his own mouth. What was so bad about staying home that he had to go out and wander around?
Staying up all night was bad for the body. Given Yan Laixi’s strange schedule, Chi Fu usually chose early morning or evening when he wanted to ask him out. But today was neither early morning nor evening; it was the dead of night.
By now, Chi Fu was no longer so excited about seeing Yan Laixi the next day that he couldn’t sleep. Without that boost, no matter how healthy his routine was, it was impossible for him to wake up at the time he usually slept the soundest and not feel tired.
The alarm rang three times. With two hours left before they had to leave, Chi Fu executed a perfect sit-up, and before his brain could react, he dragged his body off the bed and threw himself into the bathroom, turning on the shower to wake himself up.
If he didn’t get up now, he would truly be late. His clothes were still the ones he had picked out the night before, but he needed to shower, blow-dry his hair, and put on some light makeup.
That’s right, after realizing he liked Yan Laixi and was pursuing him, Chi Fu had completely transformed into a strutting peacock. Inner qualities were built through interaction, but outward appearance was managed privately. Chi Fu couldn’t predict the future or what would happen during their time together, so he couldn’t prepare his inner self beforehand. Therefore, he had to at least put more effort into his appearance so that Yan Laixi would find him pleasing from every angle.
Half an hour ahead of schedule, Chi Fu arrived at the agreed meeting station. He hid at the intersection, and less than ten minutes later, Yan Laixi appeared.
Unless it was a last-minute decision, Yan Laixi would always arrive at least fifteen minutes early. So, Chi Fu always told him the time was half an hour later, arrived early, found a place to hide, waited for Yan Laixi to arrive, let a few minutes pass, and then pretended to have just arrived himself.
Even so, about once every dozen times, Chi Fu would arrive to find Yan Laixi already waiting there.
“Little Book!” Chi Fu waved and ran toward Yan Laixi. He had to commit to the act. He glanced at the time and said, “Why are you so early again? I even made an effort to leave early.”
“I told you not to call me that…” Yan Laixi sighed helplessly. The Chi Fu who used to guess what he disliked had disappeared. The current one had learned to distinguish between what he genuinely disliked and what he didn’t actually hate but felt awkward about, knowing he would get used to it. Chi Fu simply ignored his protests regarding the latter.
“I just got here too, I haven’t been waiting long,” Yan Laixi said. “Besides, you never make me wait long anyway.”
“That’s only because you arrive so early every time,” Chi Fu said. “It’s so difficult for me! If I arrive normally, I worry you’ll wait too long. If I arrive too early, I worry I’ll beat you here. Then you arrive even earlier next time! I spend every day cutting it close to those ten-odd minutes, constantly anxious on the way.”
As he spoke, he clutched his chest and shrank his neck, performing an exaggerated version of “extreme caution,” summoning Yan Laixi’s “pat of love.”
As the two became more familiar, Chi Fu gradually exposed his tendency to talk nonsense, while Yan Laixi gradually exposed his habit of “acting without speaking.”
On the surface, this looked like one person talking and the other hitting, but in reality, it was a case of one willing to be hit and the other willing to hit, one willing to speak and the other willing to listen.
However, the listener sometimes used both hands and words, either following the track Chi Fu laid out or bringing up old history: “Didn’t you start it? Who showed up an hour early the first time we met and stood outside the other person’s door? I almost died of shock when I opened my eyes.”
“I was just so excited about going to your place for the first time that I couldn’t sleep,” Chi Fu said. “Besides, I was only early that one time. You arrive nearly half an hour early every time, right? Three times at most would even things out, and this has been way more than that. Be late next time. Let me wait for a bit. Wait until the time we’ve spent waiting for each other is roughly equal before you start arriving early to wait for me again.”
Yan Laixi actually wanted to say, “Can’t we both just arrive on time and not waste time waiting for each other?” but he knew that wasn’t something he should say.
In fact, it wasn’t just when going out with Chi Fu; Yan Laixi was accustomed to giving himself plenty of leeway. For instance, if he estimated a task would take an hour, Yan Laixi would allocate two hours or more, even though he might only need forty minutes to complete it. This way, even if his estimate was off or if there were unexpected circumstances, it usually wouldn’t exceed the time too much. If nothing happened and he finished early, the extra time wouldn’t disappear; he could use it for other things.
Generally, no matter where he was going or what he was doing—excluding situations that arose suddenly or when he had other commitments and little free time—Yan Laixi would arrive at his destination twenty to forty minutes early. He had already tried his best to leave late when meeting Chi Fu, waiting until the last possible moment he felt he could leave without being late. There were even a few times on the way when he considered sending Chi Fu a message saying he might be delayed. This was a habit of many years; he couldn’t just change it on command.
“By the way, how are we getting there? Maglev Transit or the underground passage?” Chi Fu asked. “The Transit Rail seems a bit too slow.”
Yan Laixi knew he tended to worry unnecessarily, but Chi Fu seemed far too relaxed.
“Maglev Transit, since we decided to meet here,” Yan Laixi confirmed the sunrise time again. “The underground passage would also be a bit rushed.”
They were going to Chaoyi District to watch the sunrise.
The Chao Districts were on the west side. Chaozhi was also near the sea and offered a view of the sunrise, but Chi Fu lived near the corner of Chaoyuan. To see the sunrise, the distance to Chaowang or Chaozhi was about the same. Chaoyi was a little farther, but not significantly. Since they were occasionally going out, they decided to visit another district, choosing Chaoyi.
In terms of view, Chaowang was actually the best choice, but precisely because of that, the coast in Chaoyi, located in the corner of the Chao Districts, would definitely be quieter than the directly western Chaowang. Yan Laixi wasn’t very fond of crowded places.
It turned out Chi Fu was right not to rush.
When they stepped onto the soft sand, the sky was still completely dark, and there was still some time before the horizon would be illuminated by warm light. The sand was cool at night, and the seawater would probably be slightly warmer, but neither of them intended to approach it right now. They sat down on the sand a distance from the water, watching the waves climb the fine sand, wetting it. The beach became smooth, and the waves retreated back into the sea, only to climb up again and slide back down, repeating the cycle, each time crawling a little farther than the last.
“Are you cold?” Chi Fu asked, pulling a small, thin blanket from his shoulder bag.
Given the thickness that allowed it to fit into the bag without making it bulge, its insulation properties were negligible. Chi Fu was wearing white pants today, and Yan Laixi suspected the blanket’s original purpose was actually to sit on.
Whatever its purpose, it wasn’t needed now. It was indeed the season where one might wrap up in a blanket while sitting by the sea, but Yan Laixi was wearing a jacket.
“I’m not cold,” Yan Laixi said.
Chi Fu: “But I’m a little cold.”
Yan Laixi tilted his head to look at him. Didn’t he have the blanket? If he was cold, he should put it on. Or was Chi Fu asking for his jacket?
“Should I give you my jacket?”
Chi Fu: Is it possible that the blanket and the cold are just excuses, and what I really mean is that I want to lean against you?
The original plan was to wait for Yan Laixi to accept his blanket, then use the excuse that he was also cold to share it. But Yan Laixi wasn’t cold, didn’t accept the blanket, and even tried to share his warmth. It would have been fine if it was a half-and-half share, but the problem was that this was another instance of giving everything away.
Sure enough, when pursuing someone, one couldn’t be subtle, and one couldn’t be concerned with saving face.
“I want to lean on you.”
“Oh.” Probably worried that Chi Fu would be cold even without his jacket, and knowing the thin blanket was useless, leaning together would be warmer. Yan Laixi said, “That works too.”
The wind blew toward the sea, and their hair followed its trajectory. If this were a movie, there would definitely be a close-up shot, but it wasn’t. Yan Laixi just wanted to find a way to tame his hair and stop it from sticking to his face.
Chi Fu rested his head on Yan Laixi’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go back after the sunrise so you can sleep early. Then, should we go to the Xiao Region to watch the sunset this afternoon?”
Two trips out within twenty-four hours? And two trips out of the city district? Impossible, absolutely impossible. He could watch the sunset at home; it was just the difference between it sinking below the horizon and sinking behind buildings.
Yan Laixi: “Are you going to chase the sun all day on your day off?”
“I’m not chasing the sun,” Chi Fu said. “We’ll go wherever you want. I’m chasing Little Book all day.”
“Can you really not change what you call me?” Yan Laixi lifted his shoulder, shaking Chi Fu’s head slightly. “It always feels strange. I’m three years older than you.”
“Only three years,” Chi Fu said. “Not thirteen years.”
He rubbed his head against Yan Laixi’s shoulder and asked, “So, are we going or not? If you don’t want to go, we don’t need to rush home to sleep. Should we wander around Chaoyi before heading back?”
“Let’s just stay here,” Yan Laixi said. “Once I get home, I won’t want to go out again.”
They leaned together, chatting idly, sitting by the sea until the night sky was invaded by crimson and scattered gold dusted the sea surface. There was no sudden silence for focused appreciation, no inexpressible shock or emotion. The atmosphere and their state of mind remained unchanged. They didn’t make any resolutions or change any opinions. They simply said, “Look! The sun is coming out!” the moment the sun peeked out. They just sat together and watched a sunrise.