Hate The Bright Moon Chapter 12

Chapter 15

Chi Huang looked at the object in his hand and gave a wry smile.

He had been ecstatic just moments ago, like a pot of boiling water, his body and mind bubbling with excitement. The moment Chen Shilü left, it was like the firewood had been pulled out from under him. He suddenly calmed down, then gradually cooled off.

Lying on Chen Shilü’s bed, the pillow and blanket didn’t smell strongly of a person; they carried the clean scent of laundry detergent and sunshine. Chi Huang raised his palm, shielding his eyes from the harsh overhead light, savoring the feeling in his hand. This was the first time he had touched another man. That unfamiliar shock was mixed with a sense of déjà vu, perhaps because they were both men.

He hadn’t expected to be so accepting of a man. Maybe he was naturally bisexual.

The surroundings quieted down, and the emptiness and boredom that had been briefly driven away by happiness quickly returned. There was really nothing left to do but sleep.

Turning off the light and closing his eyes, Chi Huang realized the room was terrifyingly quiet. He could hear his own breathing and the faint electrical hum of appliances outside. He tossed and turned for a while, unable to fall asleep. He was used to living by the roadside, with the constant sound of traffic coming and going.

So he got up and quietly slipped out of the room.

He stood outside Chen Shilü’s door for a moment. There was no sound inside, suggesting Chen Shilü was already fast asleep.

He returned to the living room, using the faint glow of various appliance indicator lights to survey the unfamiliar apartment.

He hadn’t noticed earlier, but now he saw that the living room was huge, appearing even wider than the two storefronts he lived in and stored his motorcycle in combined.

Living in such a large apartment all by himself, didn’t Chen Shilü feel lonely? When he was little, he lived in a similar house with his mother and nanny, and he always felt it was too big. It often took him a while to find his mother.

Chen Shilü’s apartment was large but not empty, furnished with many cabinets and shelves arranged in an orderly fashion. The limited light only allowed him to see the general outlines, not the specific items placed on them.

Chi Huang wandered aimlessly through the strange apartment, peering closely at everything, like a cat exploring a new home out of curiosity, or a moth lost in the deep night, instinctively drawn toward the light source.

The main light source came from a corner near the balcony. Chi Huang walked closer and saw that the illumination came from a half-human-height fish tank. He pressed curiously against the transparent glass wall and was immediately mesmerized by the complex world inside.

Colorful corals and sea anemones adorned the rocks, and brightly colored small fish swam quietly among them. Shellfish at the bottom swallowed and spat out sand, and small red shrimp happily paddled through the water.

In the dead silence of the night, this corner was bursting with life.

He didn’t know how long he watched before Chen Shilü’s voice came from behind him: “What are you doing here?”

Chi Huang turned around: “You keep all these?”

“What time is it? Why aren’t you sleeping?” Chen Shilü yawned.

He had given the master bedroom with the attached bathroom to Chi Huang. When he got up in the middle of the night to use the restroom, the figure in the living room startled him. Between calling the police and grabbing a baseball bat to deal with the situation directly, he remembered there was an extra person in the house tonight. This was exactly why he disliked having people stay over.

“It’s too quiet here. I can’t sleep.”

“Too quiet and you can’t sleep? What kind of problem is that?”

Chi Huang didn’t comment, pointing at the orange and white fish in the tank and asking, “This fish looks familiar. I must have seen it somewhere. What’s its name?”

“Clownfish.”

“Hmm… does it have another name?”

“…Nemo?”

“Yes, that’s it.” Chi Huang sounded excited. “It’s the main character from Finding Nemo.” He pointed at another blue one. “Is this Dory?”

“That’s a Blue Tang.”

“And this one?”

“Yellow Tang.”

“What about the shrimp?”

“Fire Shrimp.”

“And the shells?”

Chen Shilü let out another big yawn: “Go play by yourself. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Last question.” He pointed to a beautiful fish in a small square tank next to it, whose caudal and pectoral fins were exceptionally large and flowing, making it look like it was swimming in the water dragging a white wedding dress. He asked Chen Shilü, “Why is it kept in this tank alone?”

“Betta fish are freshwater fish. That’s a saltwater tank.”

“Is that all?”

“What else could it be?”

“I thought it was stealing food from the other small fish and was isolated.”

Chen Shilü was amused by his suggestion: “That’s not wrong, actually. Betta fish are very fierce and aggressive, especially the males. They are suitable for solitary keeping.”

Chen Shilü returned to his room. Having talked to Chi Huang, he was now wide awake and took a while to fall back asleep.

He woke up the next morning to bright daylight. It was nearly ten o’clock.

The house was quiet. Chen Shilü checked the rooms. Chi Huang was gone, and his clothes were gone too. The T-shirt Chen Shilü had given him to sleep in was draped over the sofa. He figured Chi Huang must have gotten up and left on his own in the morning.

This was good, saving him the trouble of having to ask him to leave. Although he disliked having outsiders in his apartment, even Chen Shilü couldn’t bring himself to do something so cold-hearted as immediately kicking out someone who had just slept over.

Just as he sat down on the sofa, letting out a sigh of relief, he caught sight of a foot on the balcony out of the corner of his eye.

He walked over and pulled back the balcony curtain. Chi Huang was resting his head on his lounge chair, surrounded by hydrangeas, lilies, and roses, sleeping soundly.

The morning sun shone on him, and the breeze ruffled his hair. As the flower branches swayed, the patches of light on his face also shifted, like rippling water.

Chi Huang’s face looked overly harmonious among the freshly bloomed flowers of the morning, so harmonious that Chen Shilü couldn’t help but think of the bright colors of “instantaneous light and shadow” found in Monet’s oil paintings.

He returned to the living room, took the camera from the wall, and quietly went back to the balcony, aiming at Chi Huang’s face framed by the flowers.

The moment he pressed the shutter, Chi Huang opened his eyes. His hazy gaze met Chen Shilü’s eyes behind the lens, causing Chen Shilü’s heart to skip a beat.

Chi Huang didn’t yet know what was happening. Chen Shilü told him: “Don’t move.”

After taking the second shot, Chen Shilü lowered the camera. Looking back at the previous photos, they were beautiful, even stunning, worthy of entering his life’s collection.

Chi Huang was fully awake now: “Let me see.”

Chen Shilü handed him the camera.

He looked at the photos, then glanced at Chen Shilü: “The pictures you take of me always make me feel like a stranger.”

“Besides documentation, the greatest charm of photography is capturing those moments of divinity and poetry hidden in our daily lives.”

Chi Huang didn’t quite understand, but he was more certain that Chen Shilü was a great photographer: “You still say you’re not a professional photographer.”

“I’m not. It’s just a hobby. I’m self-taught. I just take pictures for fun.”

Looking at the fish in the tank and the flowers on the balcony, Chi Huang nodded: “You have many hobbies.”

“Because many things are interesting.”

“Is that so.” He handed the camera back to Chen Shilü. “Can you take a few more pictures of me?”

Chen Shilü examined Chi Huang and nodded: “Come inside.”

His room had many suitable backdrops, such as the black metal and glass cabinet filled with camera lenses, the neatly organized books in the wooden bookshelf, the deep green sofa background wall, and the entire row of exotic clay sculptures.

Chi Huang posed according to Chen Shilü’s directions against various backgrounds. Chen Shilü took pictures of his full face, profile, smiling, or expressionless, until his stomach rumbled twice.

Checking the time, it was almost eleven o’clock, and neither of them had eaten anything yet.

He handed the camera to Chi Huang: “I’ll make something to eat. Do you have any dietary restrictions?”

“No.”

Chi Huang flipped through the newly taken photos and followed him into the kitchen: “Why don’t you become a photographer? You’re really good at it.”

“Because photography doesn’t pay as well as my current job. Besides,” Chen Shilü cracked four eggs into the pan, “you, on the other hand, are very suitable to be a model.”

“Hmm… I don’t think being a model sounds very interesting.” Chi Huang turned the camera around, aiming the lens at Chen Shilü’s profile.

Chen Shilü waved him away: “Out. Don’t block me.”

Chi Huang retreated to the doorway. The person in the lens lengthened into a half-body shot. He found Chen Shilü wearing an apron and skillfully handling the spatula quite amusing.

Chen Shilü, however, unceremoniously pulled the kitchen door shut: “The cooking fumes will drift into the living room.”

Since he wasn’t allowed to photograph him, Chi Huang didn’t mind. He raised the camera to photograph the ornamental fish in the tank, the fresh flowers on the balcony… The camera was not just a camera; it became a magnifying glass, helping him discover the seahorse hidden among the sea anemones, the other small fish in the water lily tank, the coffee machine, the record player, a very old but interestingly shaped chair, the various fun little gadgets on the magnetic board, and Chen Shilü’s student ID mixed in with these small ornaments.

He lowered the camera and reached out to take the ID. Chen Shilü came out carrying a tray: “Don’t touch things randomly.”

Chi Huang smiled at him: “This must be you in middle school? You were cute back then too.”

This was exactly why he didn’t like people coming to his house, especially someone like Chi Huang who had no sense of boundaries. Chen Shilü said coldly: “Come and eat.”

The contents of the tray were rich and healthy: eggs, sausage, bacon, crispy toast, and some fruit salad. Having seen Chi Huang’s appetite before, he had prepared double portions, filling the largest plate he owned.

Chi Huang ate with great relish, which made the food taste much better even to Chen Shilü, who usually had little appetite after waking up.

After the meal, Chen Shilü waited for Chi Huang to say goodbye. But the other party remained silent for a long time. Chen Shilü guessed he was waiting for the photos taken that morning.

He recalled that the first time they met, Chi Huang had asked him for photos. At the time, he thought it was just a pretext for flirting, but now he was starting to sense the young man’s narcissism.

Chen Shilü took out his laptop, ready to organize the photos for him and send him on his way.

Saturday was primarily his rest day. Usually, he would go back to bed to catch up on sleep at this time, so he felt sleepy as soon as he opened the computer. Before starting work, he went to grind some coffee for himself.

Chi Huang kept staring intently at him, so he had no choice but to ask: “Do you want some?”

Chi Huang gave him another brilliant smile: “Yes, please. With extra milk and sugar, thank you.”

Chen Shilü turned away and immediately grumbled internally. He agreed quickly, and his demands were high. What a waste of his imported coffee beans.