AVRL 47

Back then, Yu Tingzhi had gotten together with Song Chen because Song Chen had taken the initiative to bring it up—after Yu Tingzhi had casually admitted that his sexual orientation might be toward men.

After the graduation exhibition ended, She Shan and Yu Tingzhi, who had become connected through the photographs, had already become friends. One day She Shan casually teased: “So many beautiful women chasing you and you’re not moved at all—you don’t like men, do you?”

Yu Tingzhi nodded and gave an “mm,” acknowledging his orientation. This made both She Shan and Song Chen drop their jaws in shock.

He did not say it was because of that set of photographs She Shan had taken, but indeed after that, he would think of the Meng Chi in those photographs at night and thereby generate some desire.

Usually there were two ways to resolve it: with his hand or with his brush. This was a secret known to no one except himself.

Song Chen was close friends with Yu Tingzhi and had naturally seen those paintings. He had also seen Yu Tingzhi staring at those paintings in a trance, a rarely seen concentration in his eyes—the kind of gaze he only had when his creative desire was strong. Even so, Song Chen did not overthink it; he only took it as seriousness toward painting.

Later, Song Chen confessed his feelings to Yu Tingzhi. At first Yu Tingzhi was a bit astonished, but as they spent time together, with matching interests and mutual understanding, they naturally came together and passed a period of calm dating. After graduation their paths diverged, and they naturally separated.

It was also Song Chen who brought it up, saying that perhaps it would be better for them to go back to being friends. Yu Tingzhi respected his opinion and wished him a bright future.

They truly did become friends again, only after not seeing each other for many years they had grown somewhat distant, no longer as close as before.

In the years they were apart, Song Chen did not know whether Yu Tingzhi occasionally reminisced about their university days. He only knew that he himself missed them very much—missed the days when he could spend every moment with Yu Tingzhi, missed that year of calm and ordinary romance. So once his studies ended he returned, wanting to try again.

Before returning to the country, Song Chen had already seen the photographs She Shan posted on Moments. He recognized that the paintings on Meng Chi’s body were from Yu Tingzhi’s hand, and vaguely felt that Meng Chi looked somewhat familiar. When he asked, She Shan said this was the same model used for the set Wild Spring he had photographed years ago.

Meng Chi’s sudden appearance and his familiar interaction with Yu Tingzhi did not strike Song Chen as strange—after all, because of She Shan’s exhibition they had crossed paths. But when he saw the relaxed smile on Yu Tingzhi’s face while interacting with Meng Chi, and the expression in his eyes that held only Meng Chi, he suddenly recalled those paintings Yu Tingzhi had once drawn, and the desire contained within them.

Now, Yu Tingzhi’s words “it should be fine now” thoroughly cut off his remaining hopes.

He tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing an expression that was neither quite a smile nor a cry, and said, “That’s good then.”

Everything that needed to be said had been said. Knowing that Song Chen understood his meaning, Yu Tingzhi said nothing more. They walked the final stretch of the road in silence.

When they reached the entrance of Jiang Hong’s villa, Yu Tingzhi stopped and turned back to Song Chen under the streetlamp: “Song Chen, keep moving forward.”

Song Chen looked at him blankly for a moment, then revealed a faint smile and said, “Alright.”

—

Jiang Hong had sought out Meng Chi because of the tea-offering ceremony.

The tea-offering ceremony had originated in the Xia dynasty. After a thousand years of transmission and evolution, it had not only changed from offering sacrifices to the gods into offering sacrifices to ancestors, but also from a family tea-offering ritual into a society-wide tea-offering activity. The objects of the sacrifice were no longer only the founders of each family, but also included the predecessors who had made outstanding contributions to tea culture.

One of the processes in the tea-offering ceremony—“offering tea”—required the descendants of these predecessors to present and offer the tea. Ordinarily the direct relatives participated; if there were none, then collateral relatives would be found.

Jiang Hong sought out Meng Chi because a descendant of the Chen family who was to participate in the tea offering had suddenly been hospitalized with appendicitis, and they could not find a substitute for the moment. Jiang Hong then thought of Meng Chi.

The Chen family ancestor being honored was the grandmaster of Meng Chi’s grandmaster, so Meng Chi could barely be counted as a junior of the Chen family.

Although Meng Chi had participated in the tea-offering ceremony before, every year he had only watched the excitement. Only in the year he first began learning tea had he carefully watched his grandmaster participate. Now that it was his turn, he was so nervous he barely slept the entire night.

After all, participating in the tea-offering ceremony not only meant being watched by tens of thousands of people, but also concerned his grandmaster’s face. Meng Chi could not afford to lose that face.

Fortunately Meng Chi’s professional quality was solid. When he took the stage his performance was steady, and he perfectly completed the process.

By the time the grand tea-offering ceremony ended it was already noon. Stepping down from the sacrificial platform, Meng Chi’s back was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

“You’ve worked hard, you’ve worked hard.” After Meng Chi came down, the Chen family elder hurriedly poured him a cup of tea and handed it over, laughing repeatedly. “Jiang Hong was right—the disciples taught by Old Master Yang are truly professional.”

“Not at all, not at all. You’re too kind,” Meng Chi inclined his body slightly, accepted the teacup, and took a sip.

The Chen family elder nodded: “We’ll still have to trouble you this afternoon.”

According to the tradition of the tea-offering ceremony, after the grand sacrificial ceremony was held at Tianfu Temple in the morning, in the afternoon they still had to go up the mountain to offer sacrifices to the ancient tea trees, praying for the tea trees to remain evergreen.

In the morning Meng Chi had gone out with Jiang Hong and had not been together with Yu Tingzhi. He had only received a WeChat message from Yu Tingzhi before going on stage and knew they had come.

The plaza of Tianfu Temple was a sea of people. Although Chen Yan had told him his approximate location, Meng Chi still could not make them out. After lunch he still had to go up the mountain, so he did not go looking for them.

Not long after coming off the stage, Yu Tingzhi called him. When Meng Chi answered, his breathing was still a bit heavy.

“Are you very tired?” Yu Tingzhi asked him.

“It’s okay,” Meng Chi said. “I was just a bit nervous when I went up.”

Yu Tingzhi laughed once: “Is that so? I couldn’t tell.”

“You weren’t that close either—could you see clearly?” Meng Chi arched a brow and glanced in the direction he was in, seeing only the crowded masses and completely unable to make out Yu Tingzhi’s specific position.

“Mm,” Yu Tingzhi said. “Chen Yan filmed a video from the front and sent it to me.”

Today Meng Chi was wearing a black Zhongshan suit, his forehead hair combed back to reveal his entire face. When his expression was blank there was a few degrees of solemnity; when brewing tea, every movement of his hands and feet carried a sense of gravity—different from usual, yet equally eye-catching.

Meng Chi: “…”

Is Chen Yan that bored?

“Is he about to fail art history and trying to curry favor with you?” Meng Chi complained.

Yu Tingzhi smiled: “Maybe. Depends on his performance.”

Meng Chi smiled, chatted casually for a couple more sentences, then said he would look for him after he finished being busy and hung up the phone.

While eating, Meng Chi received the video Yu Tingzhi had sent him. Chen Yan’s filming was not very clear, yet one could still see that the version of himself sitting before the tea table in the video was calm, composed, steady, and dignified.

Meng Chi nodded rather smugly. Just as he was about to close the video, he heard the sound of an argument appear in the off-screen audio of the video.

One was Chen Yan’s voice; the other was an unfamiliar male voice. The general content was the unfamiliar male voice saying discontentedly, “What’s so worth filming about this?” Then Chen Yan said, “I’ll film whoever I want—what business is it of yours?”

“Who’s minding your business? Stay farther away from me.”

“I just won’t. There are so many people—you’d better stick close to me, or else later you won’t find the way back and will have to call me to pick you up again.”

“Who cares about you coming to pick me up.”

“Oh? Don’t care? Then don’t grab my hand.”

The argument ended there. Meng Chi arched a brow, inexplicably feeling that this flirtatious exchange of banter carried a bit of ambiguity.

By the time Meng Chi finished the tea-offering activities and came down the mountain, the sky was already nearly dark. Yu Tingzhi, Song Chen, Song Min, and some of the students were at the flower-boat rental place by Xitang Lake, waiting to take a flower boat to the center of the lake to watch the fireworks.

When Meng Chi arrived at the edge of Xitang Lake, only Yu Tingzhi was still standing under the willow trees on the shore.

“Why are you alone?” Meng Chi ran over.

“Everyone’s already gone on the boat to watch the fireworks.” Yu Tingzhi lifted his chin toward the flower boats by the lake.

Meng Chi turned his eyes to look, then saw Chen Yan standing at the bow of a boat, calling his name and waving. Beside him stood a long-haired… boy.

If not for hearing him use a familiar voice to say to Chen Yan, “Are you afraid other people won’t know how loud your voice is?” at first glance Meng Chi would have thought he was a girl.

From this voice, Meng Chi guessed that this was the male student who had been flirting with Chen Yan that morning.

Besides him and Chen Yan on the boat there were also Song Chen and Song Min, as well as several female students.

“Why didn’t you go on the boat?” Meng Chi withdrew his gaze, looked toward Yu Tingzhi, and asked with a smile. “Waiting for me?”

Yu Tingzhi nodded once: “Mm.”

Meng Chi raised his brows toward Yu Tingzhi: “Seeing as you specially waited for me, I’ll take you somewhere.”

“Where?” Yu Tingzhi asked.

“You’ll know when we get there.” Meng Chi reached out and took his arm, leading him in the opposite direction. Crossing an arched bridge over Xitang Lake, the two walked to the parking lot by the edge of Xitang Lake.

Meng Chi stood on the shore and gazed out at the lake for a moment, then made a phone call. While communicating with the person on the phone, he saw that the trunk of a car was open and walked over to casually close it.

“Wait a bit,” after finishing communication with the person on the phone, Meng Chi hung up and said to Yu Tingzhi.

Yu Tingzhi nodded. He did not ask what they were waiting for, only quietly waited with him.

Two minutes later, Meng Chi did not wait for a boat to arrive—instead he waited for a middle-aged man carrying a large box of fireworks. The middle-aged man walked over to the trunk that Meng Chi had just closed, his face full of gloom: “I remember I didn’t close the trunk?”

Seeing the box on his back teetering on the verge of falling, Meng Chi hurriedly went over to help. As soon as he drew near he heard the middle-aged man muttering this.

Meng Chi’s mouth twitched as he helped steady the cardboard box that had nearly smashed to the ground.

“Need any help?”

Hearing Meng Chi’s voice, the man hurriedly turned and said “Thank you.”

Yu Tingzhi also walked over and helped him open the trunk.

Meng Chi helped the man put the two large boxes of fireworks into the trunk. The man clapped his hands and smiled in thanks: “Brother, thank you.”

Meng Chi smiled: “No problem. Just a small effort.”

The middle-aged man said “thank you” again: “I don’t even know who closed my trunk for me. If I hadn’t run into you two, it definitely would have gotten smashed just now.”

“…”

Meng Chi’s mouth twitched. He inexplicably felt that this “thank you” was undeserved.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Yu Tingzhi had already turned his head aside, as if trying to hold back a laugh—but failing.

To express his gratitude, the middle-aged man also gave the two of them a handful of sparklers, telling them to play with them casually.

After the middle-aged man drove away from here, Meng Chi also waited for his boat. The pleasure boats on Xitang Lake were all replicas of black-awning boats, antique and elegant, hung with several uniquely shaped lanterns. Probably because this was the hometown of green tea, the boats even came with a tea table and tea utensils.

The one who brought this small pleasure boat over was a teenage boy. He simply told Meng Chi how to operate the boat, then handed it over to Meng Chi.

After boarding, Yu Tingzhi still had a smile on his face. Meng Chi said helplessly: “Teacher Yu, is it that funny?”

“No. I just think you’re a bit cute,” Yu Tingzhi said.

“This is already the second time you’ve said I’m cute,” Meng Chi pouted. “Where do I have anything to do with cute?”

Yu Tingzhi raised a brow: “You don’t like me saying you’re cute?”

Meng Chi said: “There’s a saying that if you can’t find another adjective to praise someone, you’ll most likely use ‘cute.’”

Yu Tingzhi laughed once, then said: “Roland Barthes wrote in A Lover’s Discourse that when one cannot clearly explain what one’s adoration for the beloved is all about, one will use the word ‘cute’ to describe it.”

Perhaps because the straightforward words “beloved” and “adoration” appeared in this sentence, the expression on Meng Chi’s face froze for an instant, then became serious.

“He also said that the most appropriate translation of ‘cute’ should be the Latin l’ipse, meaning ‘it is him, it is indeed him.’” Yu Tingzhi’s gaze toward Meng Chi also grew focused. After a pause he continued, “This is my understanding of cute.”

The two locked eyes in silence. The earlier light and humorous atmosphere suddenly became quiet and ambiguous; silent feelings continuously fermented.

After a moment Meng Chi opened his mouth and asked him: “Do you adore me?”

Yu Tingzhi smiled: “Do you still need to ask?”

The corners of Meng Chi’s mouth lifted slightly. He said: “Mm. I want to hear you say it with your own mouth.”

“Yes,” Yu Tingzhi smiled and nodded, his gaze calm and deeply affectionate. “I adore you—from the first glance.”

The corners of Meng Chi’s mouth could not help rising. Pleasure floated at the corners of his eyes and brows. After brewing for several seconds he finally opened his mouth: “I know.”

“Hmm?” Yu Tingzhi arched a brow. “And then?”

Meng Chi did not speak. He only lifted his eyelids and shot him a glance, then walked to the tea table and sat down, quietly beginning to brew tea with the utensils on the table.

He placed the tea, poured the water, waited quietly for a moment, then poured the tea from the pot into the fairness pitcher, and from there into the small tasting cups. His movements were skilled and orderly, yet Yu Tingzhi inexplicably detected a thread of excitement.

Only when Meng Chi lifted that cup of clear, fragrant tea and held it out before Yu Tingzhi did he return to his usual calm.

Yu Tingzhi understood his intention almost instantly. He reached out and accepted this silent confession, tasting a mouthful of tea fragrance that burned hot into his lungs and heart.

Meng Chi smiled. Countless lights fell into his eyes like a brilliant galaxy of stars. He took Yu Tingzhi’s other hand that rested on the table and said: “Teacher Yu, after drinking my tea, you are mine.”

Yu Tingzhi returned the smile: “Now, you can snatch me back.”

Meng Chi looked into his eyes, bright under the lights. His heart was like a bottle of soda bubbling over—boiling and restless.

The noisy explosions of fireworks in the distance could not match the intensity of his heartbeat at this moment.

Yu Tingzhi gazed deeply at him, then pulled him forward in one motion and lowered his head to kiss his lips.

One firework after another shot straight up into the clouds and exploded with a bang. The gorgeous fireworks lit up the night sky while also displaying their brilliance. Meng Chi held Yu Tingzhi in return as they kissed together.

Lovers pledged lifelong devotion to each other with tea, remaining faithful to one until the end.