Chronicles of the Beginning of Love

When Qiu Huaijun was in elementary school, there was an open-ended extra credit question: to describe yourself using an animal. Unconventionally, he selected a hedgehog. Until this day, he still thought of himself as one, sharp quills popping up. But with a light foot, He Qingchuan kicked him over, exposing his scarlet, vulnerable parts. No matter how Qiu Huaijun struggled, he couldn’t flip himself back over. This made him feel deeply defeated and powerless. He also started hating his overeager tear ducts; he wanted to cry a little.

“Didi* should learn to respect gege,” He Qingchuan said in a low voice. “Right?”

“I know! I won’t fight anymore, okay? This month.” Qiu Huaijun turned his face to the side. On his fair white neck was a small mole. “Don’t tell He Hairan,” he said through gritted teeth. “Count it as me begging you!”

He Qingchuan watched his chest violently rise and fall— he probably believed that the loose, large clothes could shield the line of his body. Yet those two protrusions, in the middle of his struggle, were especially apparent. He Wang probably bit them swollen.

He Qingchuan lowered his eyes and let him go. “Okay.”

Qiu Huaijun fled. He Qingchuan straightened up his clothes, covering up his erection. Following that, he laughed quietly.

Monday was a rainy day. Qiu Huaijun didn’t like rainy days in the same way he disliked humidity and mist. But the flag-raising ceremony wasn’t canceled; at seven was his special performance. Beneath the platform, the cloudy mass of people held multicolored umbrellas, squeezing together in the cramped space. Qiu Huaijun held two pages of self-criticism** paper, but he chose to speak without them. He was flamboyant as he ascended the stage, as if he were accepting a prize instead of reading a self-criticism.

“Hello everyone, I am first-year class three’s Qiu Huaijun. Today, I am reading a self-criticism for everyone, and I’ll be speaking from the heart. If the logic doesn’t make sense, do excuse me.” Playing along with the charade, Qiu Huaijun took a bow. Hearing the applause, he said, “Ah, last week, I shouldn’t have beat up that Zhang student from the neighboring class. I also shouldn’t have scheduled a fight with him at the alley. Although he truly wasn’t ethical, agreeing to a one-versus-one but then bringing his entire posse for reinforcements…”

Below, everyone roared with laughter.

“But I still beat him, so I’m very sorry for that. And I shouldn’t have used a cigarette to poke his elbow— that must’ve hurt a lot. And I also shouldn’t have kicked him from the head of the alleyway to the tail, without giving him a chance to stand up by slapping his face and even making him bleed. These are all my wrongdoings.”

The laughter from below increased in volume, mixed in with small comments. Qiu Huaijun cast a glance at the teacher’s ashen face; he couldn’t hurry him off, and neither could he turn off his mic. Qiu Huaijun tried to find He Qingchuan and He Wang, but he didn’t see them. The lost opportunity to display his great power was truly a regret.

Qiu Huaijun lifted his chin, smile receding. He said, “So, I want to say sorry to this Zhang student. But if you curse me again, using such dirty wording,” he laughed, “I still won’t let you go.”

There was an uproar, with some people even cheering and clapping loudly. Qiu Huaijun didn’t even use the stairs, instead using the platform to jump off. It was terribly handsome. Of course, the teacher didn’t let him go— he made Qiu Huaijun stand for an entire day, writing a 5000 word self-criticism. Other than the ten minutes between classes, he wasn’t allowed to sit down.

Originally, he was already in the last row. His casual presence in the back was hardly an eyesore; the female students in the class even occasionally turned to look back at him. Upon getting caught, they would look away, panicked, pretending to speak with the other female students at their table.

He simply continued to stand there. The sun was hot. Qiu Huaijun watched the sunlight outside the window, starting to think— if the sun crept onto the ground, would it burn a universe of black holes? Astronauts, wearing heat proof suits, jumping into the black hole… Qiu Huaijun very much wanted to jump in.

The last class of the morning was music class; the movie streaming was La La Land. The windows were covered by curtains, casting the room into darkness. Qiu Huaijun tapped Fan Yang and said quietly, “I’m leaving.”

“Huh?” Fan Yang’s eyes were glued to the movie. He turned his head slightly and said half-heartedly, “To where?”

After he didn’t hear a response for a while, Fan Yang looked over. The seat was empty. Qiu Huaijun had run; the back door was still open a slit, a line of light hovering there.

Two full days didn’t even pass after a fight when Qiu Huaijun skipped school.

He sat on the bus that drove Route 15. A coin dropped in, crisp and clear; his mood was rather good. “Sir, please call me when we reach Anshan Welfare Institute. I want to sleep.”

“No problem,” agreed the bus driver. There weren’t many people on the bus.

“Thank you.”

Qiu Huaijun actually fell asleep. He still dreamed of the small one-story house, cucumber vine, the eye of a dead fish. Qiu Yuehe stood far away in a halo of light, calling him. “Huaijun.”

After about half an hour, they arrived at Anshan Welfare Institute. He didn’t need the bus driver to call him, instead waking up by himself. He jumped off the bus, running the entire way down the hot and dry asphalt road to Anshan Welfare Institute. The institute was located at the foot of the mountain, and the conditions were good; as a whole, it had a red-and-white style. He asked the nurse cleaning at the doorway, “Chen-yi***, has my mom woken up?”

“She’s awake.” Chen-yi was around forty; when she smiled, the corners of her eyes had wrinkles. “Go see her, but don’t get too close.”

Qiu Huaijun completely threw the last few words to the wind, once again running to the third floor. His forehead was full of sweat, but his eyes were bright. He pushed open the door to Qiu Yuehe’s room and said loudly, “Ma!”

He didn’t see anyone. The room was empty. Qiu Huaijun was somewhat at a loss, taking a few steps in; suddenly, there were footsteps from behind.

“Ah!”

Qiu Huaijun received a shock, letting out a “fuck!”. Having succeeded at her prank, Qiu Yuehe put down her ghost-playing hands, sticking her tongue out at him. “Gotcha!”

“Ma, where’d you come from?” Qiu Huaijun’s heartbeat still hadn’t settled down. “Were you hiding behind the door?”

Qiu Yuehe ignored him, only jumping and hopping past him, acting as if he didn’t exist and mumbling “not fun” underneath her breath. She was over thirty, but didn’t appear old at all; she was beautiful. She lowered her head and puffed out her cheeks, staring at her swinging legs.

“What’s there to be fun and not fun…” Qiu Huaijun walked over, squatting down by her side. “Do you still remember who I am?”

Qiu Yuehe’s voice was small. “I remember, you’re Huaijun…”

Qiu Huaijun’s heart leapt in happiness. Qiu Yuehe usually didn’t even remember who he was; he had to repeat it many times before she could remember. But today, she unexpectedly remembered him. Yet before he could praise Qiu Yuehe, she immediately continued, “I remember, you’re He Hairan’s son, that smelly bastard, bastard man, piece of shit’s son…”

Qiu Huaijun’s smile froze on his face; he couldn’t react properly, only his smile fading. His eyes were wide, staring at Qiu Yuehe. Qiu Yuehe suddenly shoved him. Qiu Huaijun wasn’t prepared, falling to the ground in an instant. In response, the flower vase fell by his side. Qiu Huaijun felt a little hotness on his face.

Chen-yi ran in. “Oh, why are you throwing things around again!"

“Huaijun, why don’t you leave first, your mother isn’t in a good state for seeing people right now.” Chen-yi pulled him up. Qiu Huaijun stepped on the broken shards. The soles of his shoes were thick, yet he thought it hurt a lot. “Treat the wound on your face, leave first.”

So Qiu Huaijun was shooed out like this. He walked slowly, pulling out the camera on his phone to check his face. His face had been injured, the right side wounded; there wasn’t much blood, but it looked a little terrifying.

The wound Qiu Yuehe had given him.

What should he think? Qiu Huaijun didn’t think anything. He randomly picked a bus to get on, getting off at a passing bar. The front desk at the bar asked him, “Are you of age?”

Qiu Huaijun seemed to smile, yet not. That wound had scabbed over. He stuck his hands in his pockets and asked, “What do you think?”

He just entered like that. The act of drinking and smoking didn’t belong exclusively to adults. Qiu Huaijun ordered a lot of alcohol: there was white, red, even multicolored, just like poison. He drank very slowly at first, but eventually directly chugged it all down. As the bartender was wiping the table, he asked, “Little fellow, did you break up?”

“Look at my looks.” Qiu Huaijun pointed at his own face, drunkenly laughing, “Who could bear to break up with me? If someone could be my girlfriend, that’d be their fortune, right?”

The bartender made a sound of agreement. “You’ve got quite the mouth.”

The curtains here were drawn; the darkness was suited to hiding demons and ghosts, who knew what time it was here? Qiu Huaijun just kept drinking. He suddenly began to cry, scaring the bartender. He handed over a napkin and said, “Brother, listen to me. If the old doesn’t leave, the new won’t come. The next one will be even more beautiful!”

Qiu Huaijun thought blearily, “What nonsense, can I have another mother?”

When Qiu Huaijun was drinking, he felt his chest become swollen; it was probably the milk collecting. He didn’t have the habit of binding his chest, since it was painful. But now, he could feel the extra milk spilling out, sliding down his stomach and staining a small section on the edge of his pants; it was uncomfortable.

“You’ve drunk yourself into this state, so you probably can’t get back by yourself,” said the bartender. “We close up early, so in a moment we’ll be done. Can you call a friend and have him pick you up?”

Qiu Huaijun got up, cheeks flushing. His tongue was thick in his mouth as he spoke. “No, no need! I’m going to the restroom, when I come back I’ll crawl home by myself…”

The ringtone of his phone sounded. Qiu Huaijun swept a glance towards it, but unfortunately he was dizzy; he tried to hang up several times before succeeding. He used the wall as support. “I’m going to the restroom, don’t throw away my phone… I’m still coming back.”

The bartender was helpless. “Alright, alright.”

It was noisy inside the bar, but quiet inside the restroom. Qiu Huaijun didn’t know where this bar was located. He liked the light here, the golden light, like… the color of the sun that burned black holes! He stumbled into a stall; there was no one inside. Qiu Huaijun hung off the edge of the toilet, dry heaving a few times. His eyes were half-closed as he pulled open his clothes, staring at the white milk seeping out from his dark red nipples. He frowned and complained, “How annoying…”

He lacked energy all over. He loosely held a small breast in his right hand. Milk flowed onto his fingers and dripped on the floor. Qiu Huaijun cursed a bit, using more force to squeeze. Milk came out from his nipple, causing his breathing to get heavier as well.

In the midst of the murkiness, Qiu Huaijun heard footsteps. This reminded him that he didn’t close the stall door. He mumbled “close the door, close the door”, turning his head to pull the door. The door closed halfway, then a hand with distinct joints blocked it. Qiu Huaijun couldn’t close the door and sulked in vain, “What kind of door is this, can’t even close it…”

The door was completely pulled open. He Wang was still wearing his school uniform; he appeared like this in front of him. The stall was filled with the disgusting odor of alcohol and the scent of milk. Perplexedly, Qiu Huaijun lifted his head, meeting his gaze. A little more milk flowed out from his breasts, slowly dripping past his pale abdomen.

“Why are you running about?” He Wang bent over halfway, a pair of peach blossom eyes curving in a smile. He watched Qiu Huaijun’s drunken gaze and reached out to grab his chin. He said in an incredibly light voice, “I’ve found you.”

*弟弟; term of address for younger brother

**检讨书; essay written when rules are broken, for self-reflection purposes

***姨; means aunt, auntie, but is also a term of address for women a generation older

Author's note

A very dirty chapter.