Lovely Allergen

Chapter 33: May All Your Wishes Come True

Xu Qichen’s rumours spread also to Peiya. Compared to the Jingjian who was in the centre of the storm, Peiya’s students weren’t much calmer: everyone loved gossip. The rumours were grossly exaggerated, and different kinds of the ‘truth’ came out, each version stranger and more contrived than the last.

The gossip recklessly misrepresented Xu Qichen’s personality and usual behaviour. The gossipers have never even seen him before, and yet they all acted as if they were the ones who understood him best. “I heard”, “allegedly”, “just by looking at that face”, “everyone’s heard already” — in the midst of all these illogical, empty words, the person concerned had already lost his true identity.

The second day after the training camp finished, Song Yu returned back to school. Another boy sitting at his table in the cafeteria during lunch started to talk about this topic.

“I’m sure you guys must’ve heard right, about that guy from Jingjian. A male student having an affair with a male teacher.” The boy’s sexual orientation was the same as a large majority of the population, and his belief in his superiority showed in his words. “It’s so disgusting how a man can like another man. Good thing they’re not here, or else I wouldn’t even dare come to school.” A few of the people around him burst into laughter after he finished. 

Qin Yan picked up a bite of the communal food dishes with his chopsticks and threw it into his food tray, lazily saying, “That’s enough. There’s plenty of girls who like boys on the streets. Do you see them liking any random guy they see? It’s the same for gay men too.” 

The other student’s face fell in irritation. “So what? Gay people can’t be gossiped about? Don’t tell me you like guys too.” 

Qin Yan placed down his chopsticks. “Honestly, I like pretty girls with long, straight black hair. But even if I suddenly turned gay one day, I still wouldn’t like men from the Qing Dynasty.” 

Song Yu had been silently brooding as they talked. He grabbed his still fairly full food tray and stood up as Qin Yan was speaking, walking away with a look on his face. Qin Yan saw how he looked and also followed him with his food tray.

The fourth day after they came back from the training camp, Song Yu finally received Xia Zhixu’s WeChat reply.

[Xia Zhixu: I’m fine.]

But Song Yu didn’t feel like he was truly fine. The people surrounding him were all very noisy, and his desk mate was taking the chance to catch up on sleep. He sent a message.

[Song Yu: If you’d like to play some basketball, you can look for me during the weekend.]

He very rarely cared about others, but Song Yu wasn’t able to be a completely indifferent bystander when it came to Xia Zhixu. Maybe it was because he just happened to witness his breakdown, or maybe it was because he really did consider Xia Zhixu as his mirror. 

The mirror was shattered, and his reflection in it was also in pieces.

The sky was grey, and the rain came down in needles, drizzling down in a way this city rarely saw. Song Yu gazed out the window, lost in his thoughts. A memory drifted back again into his mind — of that day he stood outside Peiya’s school entrance after he’d just come back from the training camp.

It was very hard for him to describe how it had felt to be embraced by Yue Zhishi after witnessing an example of such utter defeat. 

If he had to describe it, then he would probably describe it as drinking poison to end his thirst.

That day, Yue Zhishi didn’t ask a single thing, only soothingly saying, let’s go home, we can watch a documentary together? 

As if he were the child and Yue Zhishi was a very mature adult. 

For the first time, they took the streets home from school. The road was very long, and Yue Zhishi had tightly held onto him the entire way, sharing a lot of happy things that had happened at school. He’d also told him one of Aunt Rong’s friends had a border collie and that border collie had recently given birth. The puppies were particularly cute when he’d gone to see them.

Yue Zhishi would never tire of putting in all his effort to transfer his warmth to Song Yu.

But Song Yu hadn’t given him too much of a response.

From the very moment he’d seen that post, an intention to retreat grew in Song Yu. He’d thought — forget it, this is too dangerous, even the heavens were trying to warn him away. But once he faced Yue Zhishi in person, there was no way for him to withdraw so firmly and decisively. 

Sure enough, he wasn’t mature at all. 

Song Yu didn’t end up gifting the handmade sketchbook to Yue Zhishi. He kept it in his school bag, and sometimes he’d see it whenever he went to grab his textbooks and pretend to not see it. After a little while longer, he pushed it into his desk drawer and hid it underneath many, many books.

He lay on his desk after class, eyes closed in rest. His phone vibrated.

[Xia Zhixu: I can’t distract you from studying. We can play again after exams.]

Before he could respond, a new message appeared in their chat.

[Xia Zhixu: I finally managed to see him. But it didn’t look like he wanted to see me. He said he wasn’t homosexual and also didn’t want to be friends with me anymore.]

[Xia Zhixu: You said I should give it a try. I don’t think there’s a chance anymore.]

That night with no electricity, the shoddy pigeon analogies and Xia Zhixu’s conservative imagination — they all felt like omens. Song Yu thought, if Xia Zhixu had tried to flinch back one more time before this stuff happened, he would’ve pushed at his shoulder and said, “I don’t think that’s true.”

But now, there was no way for him to say such a thing.

Xia Zhixu and Xu Qichen were an example with a higher chance of success, and yet they ended so explicitly in front of Song Yu. He’d thought he was mature enough to stimulate the heart of someone so similar to him, wanting to create the results he desired. To say he was generous enough to want to help someone else achieve love? Not really.

Song Yu knew — he was looking only a successful example nearby, so that he could give himself a little encouragement.

When it came down to it, he was still too young.

No one could ever guess what tomorrow will bring. 

Yue Zhishi would occasionally think about how Song Yu looked like that day he returned back to school.

His exhaustion hadn’t lasted too long. After they’d arrived home, Song Yu didn’t watch a documentary with him — only closing himself into his room, and when he came out again, he was once again the indifferent Song Yu.

Even though his speech and actions weren’t all too different compared to before he’d left for the training camp, Yue Zhishi kept vaguely feeling as if Song Yu had changed slightly. He spoke even less than before and refused to express his inner thoughts even more.

Once he returned back to school after the monthly break, Yue Zhishi also heard the rumours of Xu Qichen. Yue Zhishi would directly, face to face, object to anyone who tried to maliciously slander Xu Qichen in front of him.

He strongly believed Xu Qichen wasn’t the type of person they all said he was, but this event eventually left a shadow in Yue Zhishi’s heart.

So there were also boys who liked other men.

From childhood, their education had taught only about opposite attraction. Very little other possibilities were brought to their attention in order to establish the same ideas in everyone. The start of awareness, the sprouting of consciousness, could only begin from doubt.

Yue Zhishi couldn’t help but remember the rainy day they’d first met. He thought about the subtly different relationship between Xu Qichen and Xia Zhixu and felt as it he’d discovered something — and yet felt what he discovered wasn’t clear enough.

He’d already been about to fall asleep when he turned over and opened his phone, searching online for some answers.

In the morning, Yue Zhishi was almost late, startling awake only when he heard Lin Rong knocking at his door. The phone in his hand had already turned off from the lack of battery. He speedily cleaned up and went downstairs, and in the living room, he saw Song Yu pulling off his school shirt. Lean muscles covered all over his back, and they stretched with any random movement.

A strange feeling suddenly grew in Yue Zhishi, and he stopped in his tracks.

Lin Rong brought over another school shirt. “This one should be dry. I gave you the wrong one earlier, no wonder it was a bit damp. Here.” She passed over the shirt to Song Yu and saw Yue Zhishi frozen in place once she lifted her head. She urged, “Le Le, why are you still standing there, hurry and eat something. I can drive you guys to school today.”

Song Yu put on the new shirt and also looked around, meeting Yue Zhishi’s eyes for a short amount of time.

His fingertips felt like they were electrified. Yue Zhishi dropped his eyes and hurried down to get ready.

Lin Rong drove a small sedan, and after entering the car, Yue Zhishi and Song Yu each stuck to a car door and the window. The two of them were separated by a distance.

After glancing at them through the rearview mirror, Lin Rong teased, “Le Le, you’ve grown up.”

Yue Zhishi was a bit confused. “Hm?”

“You used to be stuck onto your brother’s body.” She laughed very prettily, her pearl earring swaying. “Hanging onto him like a little pendant.”

Hearing her words, both Song Yu and Yue Zhishi turned and glanced at the gap between them. Two seconds later, Song Yu brought his head back to look at the passing scenery, and Yue Zhishi stared at the school bag on his lap.

“Sticking together’s a bit hot,” Yue Zhishi weakly explained.

–

The two weeks before the college entrance exams, Yue Zhishi kept falling sick with an upset stomach and once even had a fever.

He was afraid the people at home would worry, so he secretly went to a nearby medical clinic. The old doctor sat there and only briefly looked at him before saying many students had come by lately, just like him, all sick from the excessive stress and tension of the upcoming exams.

“Don’t be nervous. The more nervous you are, the more uncomfortable you’ll be.” The doctor gave him a general exam, sat down and pulled out a medical record book from his drawer. He glanced at the calendar. “Ah, it’s already the 2nd. Then the college exams aren’t that far away then.”

His pen flew across the page, and without even lifting his head, he asked, “What’s your name, and how old are you?”

Yue Zhishi gave him his name and said, “I’m fifteen.” He sat across from the doctor and honestly told him, “I’m not the one taking the college entrance exams.” 

“Fifteen?” The doctor pushed up his reading glasses. “Ah? I was thinking you looked too young for the college exams. Then you’re worried about the high school exams?”

“I don’t think I am.” Yue Zhishi said, “But I am a bit nervous, I can’t sleep well at night.” He added, “My gege is about to take the college exams.”

“You’re worried for him.” The doctor thought it was very funny. “You should think more about yourself, foolish child.” 

Yue Zhishi ended up taking a bunch of medicine home, his symptoms mostly disappearing after taking them for two days.

The school soon notified the junior high department that they’ll be setting up the college entrance exam venue in a few days so they needed to start moving all of their books home, the classrooms turning into the exam venue after being cleaned. From the creation of the venue to the end of the exam, all junior high students were then released from school, and Yue Zhishi could only study at home.

He went downstairs looking for some food after some studying, and Lin Rong just happened to be video-chatting with a good friend. Lin Rong waved at him to go over, so he sat next to her with a pudding in his hands, very politely greeting auntie.

“So well behaved. You’ve turned handsomer, too. Hey, Xiao Rong, both of your sons are taking entrance exams soon, right?”

“Yeah.” Lin Rong’s face immediately changed, and she covered her heart with a hand. “I hope they’ll both stay healthy. We’ll go on a trip after they finish.”

“Really, other parents are worried about exam results while all you think about is going out to play. Hey, you know that Chen Xiaomei, the doctor? She went to the Guiyuan Temple the other day to burn some incense for her daughter.”

Lin Rong laughed. “Does that really help?” 

“Someone introduced the idea to her. Someone said before it’s super miraculous, and it’s making even me want to go and burn a stick of incense.”

“I can’t be bothered to go, it’s too troublesome. My eldest wouldn’t be grateful for it anyway.”

Yue Zhishi sat by the side and listened to their conservation, going upstairs after finishing his pudding. He turned on his computer and looked up Guiyuan Temple, unexpectedly seeing only good reviews. His education has always been secular and non-religious, but Yue Zhishi saw one particular review and felt it was particularly logical — if you sincerely believe, only then will it come true.

Besides, Yue Zhishi was unhappy just thinking about how there would be someone in the same exam venue who will have burned some incense, prayed to a god and carried a protective talisman while Song Yu had nothing at all. 

If other people had something, gege must have it too. 

Yue Zhishi was a person of action, the next day leaving the house early with all the money he needed. He said he was going to KFC with a friend for some review and ran off. Guiyuan Temple was very far from home, so he took the subway all the way until he reached the right bus stop. He then took a very long bike ride before finally arriving at his destination.

Since it was so close to the exams, the temple was completely packed with people. Yue Zhishi went in by himself and realised there were no guides inside — he had no choice but to follow the other worshippers. Guiyuan Temple was much larger than he expected, each temple building looking very similar to each other, and he circled around in confusion a few times asking for directions. There were also too many different bodhisattva statues, Yue Zhishi dizzy just by looking at the 500 arhat statues alone. He was tossed from side to side the entire afternoon until he finally managed to find the place he was looking for.

He carefully observed the people around him as he lined up to offer incense. When it was finally his turn, he very seriously bowed and paid his respects.

Please, you must protect and bless gege so that everything goes well. He sincerely, silently prayed.

Before he left, Yue Zhishi went to try his hand at Chinese fortune sticks. Someone next to him teased, “You’re so young and already here to worship. Do you understand what’s written on the stick?”

A sentence resembling ancient poems was written on the fortune stick, and Yue Zhishi truthfully said he didn’t and asked if he could explain it to him.

“Are you looking for answers for yourself? What’d you ask for?”

“No, it’s for my ge.” Worried that he would forget the explanation, Yue Zhishi took out his phone to record it down.

The other person raised his glasses. “I see.” He gave the stick back to Yue Zhishi. “You don’t want to request one for yourself? You’ve come so far.”

That was true — so Yue Zhishi prayed again, asking the same person to explain the stick to him before bringing both sticks home.

Yue Zhishi was tired and fell asleep on the bus. He accidentally missed his stop and got off the bus at an unfamiliar station, heading across the road to take the bus going the opposite direction. He was hungry the entire way to the subway and was so mentally and physically tired he felt as if he himself went on a pilgrimage.

As he sat on the subway, he pulled out his two fortune sticks and matched the two of them to the explanations he’d recorded on his phone. Song Yu’s stick had led him to Monk 169 Guanshen, while the stick he’d prayed for himself had brought him to Monk 015 Futuo Mido. He compared the two and felt the fortune stick he received for himself had a better message.

Song Yu came home a lot earlier than usual that night — it was the final day before the college exams.

Song Yu had stopped going to and from school with Yue Zhishi after the training camp. It was the final sprint before the exams, so even after he returned home from school, Song Yu would still stay in his room to study and not come out.

Yue Zhishi had also reached the critical time period for preparing for his own exams. But because of the growth of some inexplainable feeling, he lately hadn’t gone to look for Song Yu on his own.

They clearly lived under the same roof, and yet the two of them subtly stepped around each other. 

It started to rain again. Each year, the college entrance examinations would always be held on a rainy day, and Yue Zhishi couldn’t help but worry because of this — he’d always felt rain was never a good sign. He opened his door when he heard noises from downstairs, and seeing Song Yu come home, he stood and waited in front of his room. 

Song Yu reached the last step on the stairs, shifting his head to look at him. His eyes slightly brightened, but his lowering eyelashes covered and hid away that light. 

“Yes?” He walked over.

Yue Zhishi’s two hands were hidden behind his back, the gentle corridor light framing his pure gaze. It made Song Yu think about the message Yue Zhishi had sent before — seems like he’d truly been mistaken. Yue Zhishi wouldn’t get angry because of something like that.

“Gege, I have something I want to give you.” Yue Zhishi walked a bit closer.

But Song Yu didn’t look like he wanted to open his door. He stood in place. “What?”

Yue Zhishi didn’t want Lin Rong to find out, thinking it was a bit embarrassing to go to a temple all by himself, so he tried again. “Can I go inside? I’ll only take up a little bit of your time.”

“Here is fine.” Song Yu didn’t move, and directly said what he guessed was happening. “If it’s something you made by hand, or anything else, you can just give it me.”

Downstairs, Lin Rong just happened to look up and see them. “Why are you two standing in the corridor? Le Le, do you want some juice?” 

Yue Zhishi hurriedly shook his head. “No, I’m okay.” He once again looked over and gave Song Yu a pitiful expression. He had no intention of giving up, but this time, he didn’t reach out a hand and pull at Song Yu’s wrist.

His pair of large yet translucent light-coloured eyes was full of innocence, delivering his plea for Song Yu to take pity on him.

Song Yu sometimes suspected that Yue Zhishi actually knew he had no way of rejecting him. His actions were always balanced exactly right and would never go too far. He’d lift his legs just slightly higher than the threshold Song Yu had installed for him.

He turned around, silently opening his door, and went inside to turn on the light, rejecting his own suspicions all by himself. 

He was wrong.

He’d never had a threshold towards Yue Zhishi. 

It was already spring, and the white wool rug had already been put away, the room once again turning into that icily cold space with not much signs of life. Yue Zhishi closed the door and jumped straight into what he’d wanted to say, giving Song Yu the protective talisman in his hand.

“This is a talisman I asked for at Guiyuan Temple, they all say it really works.” Yue Zhishi was worried Song Yu wouldn’t take it, so he very quickly introduced it like an insurance salesman. “Did you know? There were so many people there to burn incense, and many of them all asked for this talisman. They all say it’s legendary. The temple was really big and really confusing, I had to look around an entire morning before I found it. Not only that, when everyone else placed their incense sticks, they only knelt and bowed three times. I made sure to bow one more time compared to everyone else. The bodhisattvas definitely must’ve seen how sincere I was.”

Song Yu lowered his head and considered the so called legendary talisman in his hand. Hearing Yue Zhishi’s long-winded speech, he could already imagine how he’d looked like, foolishly running around in the temple. 

He said he’d bowed one extra time. It definitely wouldn’t have been only once.

“Thank you.” Song Yu placed the talisman onto his desk and said nothing further.

The understanding between them told Yue Zhishi that gege was hinting at him to leave. He very obviously started to get upset, feeling that gege truly didn’t believe in these things just like how Aunt Rong had earlier said.

“No need to thank me.” Yue Zhishi sniffled, his next words very wobbly. “It’ll rain all the way to tomorrow morning.”

Song Yu looked at how Yue Zhishi appeared to not want to leave and slightly wavered. They silently stood across from each other for around five seconds before Yue Zhishi decided to give up. The moment he was about to turn around and leave, Song Yu opened his mouth.

“Which bodhisattva did you pray to?” He picked up the talisman and asked a strange question.

Yue Zhishi was obviously stupefied by his question, staring at Song Yu as he tried to think of the answer.

After he’d entered into Guiyuan Temple, his only thought was to find a talisman. He’d circled around and around before he finally found one — there had been so many people, so he’d simply lined up and waited for his turn. As to which bodhisattva… 

He couldn’t quite remember. Yue Zhishi frowned and seemingly seriously accused, “All bodhisattvas are celestial beings, how can you be picky?” 

Song Yu silently sighed.

He was seriously starting to suspect Yue Zhishi was actually Lin Rong’s true son, and he himself was the one who’d been brought back home. 

Not much longer, Yue Zhishi opened his mouth again. “Ah, I remember. I prayed to a double-sided Guanyin.” His eyes glowed, his facial expression looking as if he was saying, isn’t that amazing, I prayed to Guanyin, and a double-sided one too.

Song Yu nodded and, in front of Yue Zhishi, tucked the talisman into the bag he’ll bring to the exam tomorrow, placing it with his identity tag.

Yue Zhishi quickly pulled out the two fortune sticks he’d also received while Song Yu had his head lowered. The stick referring him to Monk Futuo Mido was given to Song Yu, and he very solemnly said, this was requested for him.

“This is mine?” Song Yu looked at the words written on the stick.

[There is a happy Buddha in the west, continue forward and smile at the world. You will be healthy and strong no matter what path you take, no troubles to deter you from anything you wish to do.]

It didn’t look like his no matter how he read it. 

Yue Zhishi nodded. “Yes, there was an expert next to me when I prayed. He told me this is a very high luck stick and is especially favourable. He even said this poem meant that the person who got the stick was compassionate and kind, and will never have any worries. He’ll have a bright and beautiful future, and everything will go smoothly. No matter what he wishes for, it’ll come true.

Everything he wished for will come true.

It sounded even less like him after Yue Zhishi’s explanation.

Song Yu glanced at him, seeing the other stick in his hand. He hadn’t even said anything when Yue Zhishi noticed and immediately held it tighter, explaining, “This is mine.”

Song Yu stretched out a hand. “Let me see.”

After he looked at it, the stick was better than Song Yu imagined, referring to Monk Guanshen. He’d thought it would be a very low luck fortune stick. 

[It is ominous for a fish to see the abyss, hidden wisdom will bring disaster. The world is wide, throw away your worries and let nature run its course.]

“This isn’t a high luck stick, but it’s not that bad either.” Yue Zhishi wanted to take it back, but Song Yu wasn’t planning on giving it to him and asked for his explanation. Yue Zhishi could only say simply, “Just, let things happen the way they’re meant to happen.”

In order to prove these things really were true, he added, “It’s true, I recently felt like my studies weren’t improving and was really nervous. It looks like this bodhisattva is telling me to stop being so anxious and to let my fate be determined by the heavens.” 

Hearing this kind of explanation, Song Yu actually crooked the corners of his mouth, looking as if he was smiling. He gave the stick back to Yue Zhishi and told him to listen to the heavens and go to sleep.

Yue Zhishi didn’t push to stay this time. He knew he couldn’t keep bothering Song Yu and was also worried he’d accidentally let something slip, so he left very quickly.

Song Yu sat at his desk once the door closed, glancing at the red protective talisman inside his transparent identity tag and gazing at the fortune stick in his hand. It felt like the words written on it were giving him a hint, tapping and foreshadowing something.

It was an unlucky thing for a fish to see clearly in the deep sea. Those who can see others’ private thoughts will bring disaster to themselves — the smarter one was, the easier it was to sink and disappear into the mud. Only those who allow themselves to relax, to place down all those self-imposed worries, and let things happen naturally could continue to walk ahead.

Song Yu abruptly realised: Yue Zhishi was the one who’d went to a temple, and yet he was the one who believed in these mystical teachings. Yue Zhishi was the one who’d prayed for the fortune sticks, and it was once again only himself who cared about the sticks’ explanations. 

It was because Yue Zhishi wasn’t lost, wasn’t worried. He wasn’t a follower trapped in misery in urgent need of enlightenment — he only cared about being able to gift Song Yu a high luck stick.

Even if there was only one, Yue Zhishi would still happily replace it and give him the best one. 

Now that he understood this, Song Yu felt like there was even less chance of curing himself.

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Le Le darling is the world’s most obedient little puppy 5555