DLRAS Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Do you think you can be in the future tense?

When Chen Wengang returned to the Zheng family home, Zheng Yucheng was waiting at his bedroom door.

He knocked before entering—this time, he remembered and complied.

Chen Wengang sighed and pushed the door open. “Come in.”

Zheng Yucheng noticed the box he was holding.

He pursed his lips. “The seven million one?”

“Mm.”

“Can I take a look?”

Chen Wengang handed it to him.

Zheng Yucheng opened it. The antique pocket watch lay nestled in the black velvet.

No matter how well-preserved, it couldn’t possibly be as pristine as when it was brand new; fine traces of time marred its casing. In truth, there was nothing particularly special about it.

Zheng Yucheng let out a low chuckle. “A bit of a pity I wasn’t the one to win it in the end.”

He seemed much quieter lately, his aura shifting slightly. Of course, this change wasn’t obvious; it started in the smallest of details, like his manner of speaking and tone of voice. One could tentatively call it the budding signs of a transition toward maturity and steadiness.

He returned the box to Chen Wengang.

Holding this lavish gift, Chen Wengang pondered where to put it.

Scanning the room, he spotted a bit of empty space on the bookshelf, right next to the tourbillon timer Zheng Yucheng had given him.

Chen Wengang wasn’t someone who cared much for ceremony. He viewed objects rationally; the relationship was over, but he had no obsession with getting rid of everything. So if it was sitting there, it would continue to sit there, acting as a decoration, but nothing more.

He cast a glance at Zheng Yucheng and opted to pull open his desk drawer, hiding the box inside.

Zheng Yucheng, however, was looking at the timer. He walked over, picked it up, and fiddled with it nostalgically.

That semester, he had happened to take a metalworking class, and his interest in crafting had surged. He said he wanted to give Chen Wengang something fun and spent a long time figuring out how to build a transmission model. Lifting his hand, Zheng Yucheng could still see a small scar left by a welding torch on his index finger.

Zheng Yucheng opened his mouth. “I was busy with another project a while ago. How did that event of yours at school go?”

“Very smoothly. The foundation has arranged a charity convoy. Next Saturday, they’ll deliver all the books to the recipient institutions.”

“Will you need people then? I have time, I can go help.”

“We do need people. If you want to come, they’d welcome you.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“You’re tactfully expressing that you don’t welcome me, aren’t you?”

Hearing this, Chen Wengang offered a helpless yet gentle smile, a self-evident answer.

Past intimacies remained vivid in memory, evoking both helplessness and regret.

Zheng Yucheng lowered his head. At this moment, his exterior betrayed nothing of the filthy thoughts filling his mind.

He wanted to lock Chen Wengang up, pin him to the bed, and fuck him hard. He didn’t want to let anyone else touch him, nor give him the chance to think of anyone else. Strip away the veneer of his gentlemanly education, and at his core remained the base nature of a man.

Examining himself, Zheng Yucheng didn’t deny this.

All male animals are born to compete.

This was carved into their DNA; if anything, he only blamed himself for waking up to it too slowly.

Perhaps it was fundamentally because he had never experienced the crisis of fearing loss, so it took some effort to return to square one.

Casting aside all the chaotic emotions, he finally realized that his agreement to “break up” was predicated on the assumption that Chen Wengang would remain within arm’s reach, never truly leaving him. That meant this breakup was a false proposition from the very beginning.

It was like a kindergartener pretending to be generous by sharing his toys, but refusing to let anyone actually take them home.

The analogy might not have been entirely fitting, but boys or men, it was all the same anyway.

Zheng Yucheng stood by the bookshelf for a while and touched a small plastic flute. He picked it up and played with it in his hands.

This was used for music classes when they were kids. Chen Wengang truly was sentimental; Zheng Yucheng had no idea where his own had flown off to ages ago. He examined it for a moment, brought it to his lips, and, relying on memory, stumbled through the melody of Little Boy.

This, too, had been taught by their music teacher back then; it was an insert song from an old German movie.

Chen Wengang looked at him, bewildered.

Zheng Yucheng smiled. “Do you still remember the Chinese lyrics to this song? ‘Little boy, few worries, looking around, the sun shines bright, wishing it could stay this good forever… But one day, a storm suddenly rises, and all the worries and troubles arrive.’ I didn’t feel anything when I was in elementary school, nor did I understand the meaning… Thinking about it now, I suddenly realize how realistic it is.”

Chen Wengang clearly remembered, but said, “Is that so? I don’t recall it at all.”

Zheng Yucheng put the flute back and told him, “Good night. Get some rest early.”

Chen Wengang received a photo from Huo Niansheng after he arrived in Zhang City.

It was a shot of Zhang City’s landmark—a skyscraper piercing the clouds.

Chen Wengang smiled at first, but the smile unconsciously faded.

He remembered how Huo Niansheng had sent him a whole variety of photos in his past life too.

That habit had formed during the time when Chen Wengang’s depression was growing increasingly severe.

Once, downstairs, the driver and the housekeeper were chatting, laughing about how Mr. Huo had been forced into becoming an ordinary guy, taking photos of his morning tea to report back to the person at home. The housekeeper, however, wore a very serious expression. “Mr. Chen never goes out, so Mr. Huo wants to show him the outside world.”

“It’s not like anyone’s stopping him, and he has a car. Can’t he just go out himself?”

“Oh my, he has that depression illness, you know that.”

“What kind of illness is depression? It’s just people being dramatic.”

“How is it not an illness? The doctor told him to show him more care and pay attention to his mood.”

“He’s just taking advantage because someone lets him get away with it. How come other disabled people don’t get depressed? Do they just stop leaving the house too?”

The driver was an old hand who had driven for Huo Niansheng for years; he was a bit arrogant and loose-lipped. He never expected the employer had planted a spy. The housekeeper immediately reported this back to Huo Niansheng. It was unclear if the driver lost his job, but he never showed his face again.

Chen Wengang lay on his side in bed, resting on one arm, and kissed Huo Niansheng’s name through the screen.

In truth, at this very moment, there was someone else trying to figure out how to message Chen Wengang.

Qi Tongzhou had been both nervous and excited lately. His enrollment procedures were complete, and he’d report to university after the summer break.

But of course, his excitement wasn’t about going to school.

It was about seeing his crush.

According to intelligence Qi Tongzhou had gathered from Zheng Maoxun, Chen Wengang’s daily routine was a simple three-point line: home, company, school.

He couldn’t visit the Zheng household every day, nor did he have any reason to casually stroll into their company. Could the school stop him from coming and going?

Actually, Qi Tongzhou had already gathered the courage to chat with Chen Wengang a few times prior.

The other party’s phrasing was very appropriate, but not overly enthusiastic, clearly not viewing him as a potential romantic prospect.

There was nothing he could do about it. He knew he had missed the optimal window. After lying dormant on his contacts list for so long, who would believe he was sincere?

This made Qi Tongzhou timid and hesitant to ask him out, afraid he’d just get a “nice guy” card in return.

But you can’t chase someone by sitting at home waiting. If the mountain won’t come to him, he could go to the mountain.

For instance, an opportunity suddenly presented itself—

Qi Tongzhou, unable to send the message he had repeatedly drafted and deleted, suddenly saw something appealing on his Moments feed.

“You want to come over and help tomorrow?” Chen Wengang asked over the phone, sounding uncertain. “It might be very tiring.”

“Don’t underestimate me. When I was in school, I participated in all sorts of charity sales and fundraisers.”

What made Qi Tongzhou eager to try was the Student Union’s book donation event.

Qi Tongzhou had taken a gap year, but most of his classmates were already in university, and some were in the Student Union.

One of his classmates had posted a nine-grid photo collage on Moments. He tapped on it casually and spotted Chen Wengang in a group photo.

Qi Tongzhou hurriedly asked what event it was.

It felt like he had picked up a ready-made excuse. Volunteering for charity—what a grand and noble reason!

Qi Tongzhou brazenly badgered him for ages, then claimed he was just coming to help a friend. Having no reason to stop him, Chen Wengang let him be.

The night before, Qi Tongzhou tossed a whole bed’s worth of clothes, meticulously coordinating outfits to finalize a trendy yet lively streetwear look.

Just before heading out, he decided it wasn’t right and changed into another set.

Having dawdled too much before leaving in the morning, by the time he eagerly rushed to the Student Activity Center, most people were already busy.

As it turned out, the Student Union members were all wearing custom t-shirts and jeans; Qi Tongzhou was the only hypebeast, sticking out like a sore thumb among them.

His classmate teased him, “Aren’t you going to show off yourself to death? If they didn’t know better, they’d think you were guest-starring in a campus modeling contest.”

Qi Tongzhou stubbornly retorted, “What’s wrong with me? I’m just looking ordinary, okay? Why don’t you talk about how much of a straight-guy vibe you give off?”

His classmate, well aware of his ulterior motives, kindly refrained from asking further, treating it simply as having scammed some free labor.

Qi Tongzhou looked around slightly nervously.

Actually, he wasn’t the only one whose style clashed with the environment. There was another person dressed in a full suit and leather shoes; at first glance, he almost mistook him for a school teacher, but the man was too young. Looking closer and recognizing who it was, he felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head.

He never expected it—why was Chen Wengang’s ex-boyfriend here too?

Definitely an ex-boyfriend. Qi Tongzhou mentally bolded and capitalized the “ex.”

It hadn’t been hard for him to ask around about Chen Wengang and Zheng Maoxun’s older brother’s relationship. Besides, thanks to the two of them falling out, a friend had jokingly set him and Chen Wengang up. Qi Tongzhou certainly hadn’t heard of them getting back together.

They probably… hadn’t gotten back together, right?

Sensing the probing gaze, Zheng Yucheng shot Qi Tongzhou a glance. With a cold, indifferent expression, he turned and walked away.

Though he didn’t know the specifics, he was certain enough that this kid was annoying.

Qi Tongzhou couldn’t care less whether he was happy or not; he was looking for his crush in the crowd.

Chen Wengang was communicating with the convoy drivers. Compared to the other two, he looked very plain today, wearing a custom t-shirt and casual pants—the exact same setup as the Student Union members. But good-looking people still look good even in potato sacks; he managed to give the outfit a unique flair.

Looking at his waistline, Qi Tongzhou’s thoughts wandered off to who-knows-where, and his face instantly flushed red.

A small cart bumped into his backside, followed by his classmate’s teasing voice: “Who are you staring at? Haven’t you looked enough?”

Dropping a quick “I’m going to work,” Qi Tongzhou fled in panic.

A dozen or so Jinbei vans had arrived, but the drivers’ main job was driving. The main force moving a classroom full of books out to load them was the volunteers. Arriving at the activity classroom and gazing at the literally sweat-inducing, ceiling-high inventory of cubic-meter cardboard boxes stacked together, Qi Tongzhou finally realized there was a reason everyone else was wearing those t-shirts: they were convenient, durable, and good for working in.

He hesitated, unsure of where to start. Feeling it was in the way, he first took off his watch and stuffed it into his pocket.

At that moment, his classmate returned. “Alright, just joking with you. Go over there and help hand out water to the girls.”

“No, I came all this way just to hand out water? I really came to help. Tell me where to move things.”

“Your outfit isn’t exactly meant for working, alright? Carrying things on your shoulders and in your arms, do you just not want those clothes anymore?”

“If they get ruined, they get ruined,” Qi Tongzhou said. “It’s not like I’m going to cry over a few pieces of clothing.”

Just as he was about to bend down and exert himself in one go, someone lightly tapped him from behind.

Qi Tongzhou turned around and met Chen Wengang’s amber eyes.

The latter handed him a large custom t-shirt. “Put this on over your clothes, or go to the restroom and change.”

“Oh… okay!” Qi Tongzhou was drowning in dizziness. “Thank you!”

He hugged the shirt like a precious treasure, while a junior staff member of the Student Union nearby, holding a similar stack of a dozen shirts, yelled out:

“Is there anyone else without a t-shirt? Speak up if you don’t have one! I have extras here!”

Following the example, he tried to hand one to Zheng Yucheng: “Senior, do you want to change out of that outfit too…”

Zheng Yucheng snatched the shirt, ground out a “thank you” through gritted teeth, and strode toward the men’s restroom.

…At least mine was personally handed to me by my crush, Qi Tongzhou thought. He felt he had still won this round.

He pulled the t-shirt right over his head, mimicking the others by loading packed boxes onto the small carts, then wheeling them out to be loaded onto the vans.

When Zheng Yucheng returned, he had changed his shirt, but he was still wearing suit trousers and leather shoes on the bottom, making for a somewhat comical mix-and-match.

Like the pot calling the kettle black, Qi Tongzhou secretly laughed at him for dressing up so pretentiously, clearly just putting on a show.

But Zheng Yucheng didn’t spare his strength. Squatting on the ground, he wrapped his arms around the boxes, lifting and stacking them onto the cart.

His delicate calfskin shoes couldn’t withstand such abuse, and two glaring creases immediately appeared on the polished leather surface.

On the other hand, Qi Tongzhou, whose hands had never touched spring water for chores, was busy watching someone else make a fool of themselves when he carelessly slashed his hand on the edge of a cardboard box.

As the youngest child in his family, Qi Tongzhou had grown up pampered. He truly had never done this kind of work, nor could he fathom the point of them exerting so much physical effort. He had participated in school-organized charity sales before, but the main focus was participation, giving students a chance to build character. In reality, everyone could bust their humps all day, and the revenue might not even be enough to buy a pair of limited-edition sneakers.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just donate the money saved from a pair of shoes?

The classroom was stuffy, and there were many students. Before long, his t-shirt was soaked through. Sweat from his forehead dripped into his eyes, stinging so much he couldn’t keep them open. Qi Tongzhou stood frozen in the middle of the aisle, looking down at the cut on his thumb.

Passing by, Chen Wengang noticed him. “What’s wrong? Did you cut your hand?”

Qi Tongzhou hurriedly hid his hand. “Nothing, nothing, just a small scratch. If you’d noticed it any later, it would’ve healed.”

Fortunately, the Student Union had prepared alcohol spray for disinfection.

Chen Wengang pulled him aside, sprayed the wound, asked someone for a band-aid, and wrapped it around his finger.

Instantly, Qi Tongzhou’s mind was entirely consumed by a goofy “hehe,” with all other thoughts tossed to the wind.

What a meaningful group activity!

He even hummed a little tune, completely ignoring the disdainful glares Zheng Yucheng shot him.

Before long, the classroom was mostly empty, and Qi Tongzhou ran off to wash his hands and face.

As luck would have it, enemies meet on a narrow path. The moment he pushed the door open, he bumped into Zheng Yucheng, who was also in the restroom.

He had already changed back into his own clothes and was on the phone under the vent. His expression was serious, as if he were discussing official business.

Qi Tongzhou only caught the final sentence, “Understood, I’ll head over now.”—That’s enough, he thought, this guy is finally getting the hell out of here.

At that moment, Zheng Yucheng hung up the phone, cast him a sidelong glance, and let out an imperceptible scoff through his nose.

Men can’t withstand provocation. The radar in Qi Tongzhou that picked up on challenges instantly stood at attention.

He plastered on a fake smile. “Oh my, leaving already without putting in much labor? Why come over if you’re so busy, just going through the motions?”

Zheng Yucheng glanced at the cartoon-patterned band-aid on his finger and suddenly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Thinking you can ascend the ranks with such low-level tactics,” he said. “Commendable effort.”

“Can’t compare to your persistence. You’re already past tense, yet you still haven’t given up hope.”

“And you think you’re going to be future tense?” Zheng Yucheng revealed a somewhat dark expression. “Fine, maintain that confidence. You might have the chance in the future to know what he likes to eat, what he likes to do for fun, where he likes to go on dates, how he reacts when kissed, what positions he likes in bed…”

Hearing him say increasingly outrageous things, Qi Tongzhou protested, “Hey, don’t go too far! Do you know how to respect people?”

Unfortunately, the simple, crude attack was effective. The moment he said it, Qi Tongzhou couldn’t help but follow the train of thought, his heart drowning in vinegar.

Zheng Yucheng mocked, “Oh, you weren’t thinking about that. You just wanted a platonic romance, holding hands and watching movies?”

Qi Tongzhou was tongue-tied, realizing he had fallen into a verbal trap; saying yes or no would make him look weak.

“Boring. This has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“I’ve known Chen Wengang since I was nine; we grew up together,” Zheng Yucheng said. “I’m just reminding you that he won’t fall for a wet-behind-the-ears kid who still needs someone to take care of him. You don’t need to waste your effort.”

“This kind of provocation is really low-class.” Qi Tongzhou found him unreasonable. “What makes you think I need someone to take care of me?”

“Is that so? Fine, I’ll tell you. You only see him as gentle, considerate, and empathetic. He’s actually very insecure, and a bit attracted to strength. What he really needs is someone who can protect him,” Zheng Yucheng said. “In that regard, I indeed didn’t do a good job. But you,” he weighed Qi Tongzhou with his eyes, “definitely don’t stand a chance.”

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