Chapter 96: Boston Summer

Chapter 96: Boston Summer

Entering the hotel room, the floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the dark, deep sea of the night.

Zhao Yu shrugged off his thick down jacket and flopped onto the soft king-sized bed, stretching his limbs. His back was killing him from sitting on the plane, and after the long journey on the ground, his jet lag hadn't even kicked in yet. He was dead tired.

Gu Hansheng drew the curtains closed, then turned and walked into the bathroom to run the water. "Shower up and get some sleep."

Zhao Yu sat up abruptly. "Oh crap, my luggage's still over there. I've got nothing to wear."

"I brought some for you." Gu Hansheng walked over and unzipped the suitcase.

"Why did you bring mine?"

"For emergencies."

Zhao Yu leaned over the edge of the bed, watching Gu Hansheng pull out the clothes. He had washed his face while running the bathwater earlier, and the ends of his hair were still slightly damp, the corners of his eyes tinged with red—swollen from when Zhao Yu had wiped his tears.

"You even thought of that?" Zhao Yu said, reaching out to touch his eyes again.

"Mm." Gu Hansheng took his hand and kissed his fingertips. "Go shower."

Zhao Yu took the clothes into the bathroom, took a quick soak, and climbed into bed. His jet lag hadn't adjusted, so he couldn't fall asleep. His brain and eyelids were at war, and he wondered why Gu Hansheng was taking so long in the shower—and why'd he turn off the bedroom lights?

He tossed and turned a bit more, then sat up to check the time. It had been over an hour since the lights went out, and the space beside him was still empty.

What the hell? Working late again?

Gu Hansheng always said he wasn't busy, but Zhao Yu had caught him burning the midnight oil more than once.

Zhao Yu got up and quietly pushed open the bedroom door. And sure enough, the living room light was on. Gu Hansheng was leaning back in the single armchair by the window, and he didn't look like he was doing work. As Zhao Yu got closer, he smelled booze.

There was no bottle on the table, so Zhao Yu sniffed again and spotted the empty bottle tossed in the trash can in the corner of the living room.

Gu Hansheng was already wasted. Zhao Yu called his name a few times with no response, so he tried to haul him into the bedroom.

After two failed attempts to hold him up—almost dropping him on the floor—Zhao Yu just slipped an arm under his knees and scooped him up bridal-style, sidestepping through the door and setting him on the bed before catching his breath.

"Gu Hansheng, you're a piece of work." Zhao Yu muttered while pulling off his sweater. "You gotta ask about everything about me, but when it's your turn, you don't say jack."

After stripping Gu Hansheng down and tucking him in, Zhao Yu was wide awake. Just as he was about to get up and toss the clothes in the hamper, two arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Zhao Yu looked down. "You up?"

Gu Hansheng squinted at him for a second, then closed his eyes and dozed off again.

Zhao Yu sighed and tried to pry his arms off, but Gu Hansheng woke for a split second and only held on tighter.

Zhao Yu couldn't leave, so he tossed the clothes on the nightstand and lay down like that.

After all that fussing, it was almost three in the morning. Zhao Yu closed his eyes and finally felt a little sleepy. He turned over and felt Gu Hansheng's head against his chest, so he held him and fell asleep.

Zhao Yu had a dream for the first time in ages. In the dream, everything around him was loud and lively. Sand squished between his toes, and a volleyball smacked his wrist with a loud thump before bouncing into the sky.

The Boston sea was a gloomy deep blue, like it had a coming-of-age movie filter slapped on it.

Late June was the anniversary of Fang Fuyi's death. Gu Hansheng had called Gu Hong that morning, but a woman picked up. Her voice had that seductive lilt, and it was obvious she was Gu Hong's new girlfriend. His type never changed—he always went for women who were the exact opposite of Fang Fuyi personality-wise.

Because of Gu Hong, the Fang family held a grudge against Gu Hansheng too. Last year on the anniversary of Fang Fuyi's death, his grandpa had banned him from the cemetery. He wanted to pay respects to his own mom, but because he had the surname Gu, he wasn't allowed in.

The sun on the beach was blinding. Gu Hansheng stared at the horizon where the sea met the sky, his mood shitty as hell.

As he was zoning out, a volleyball smacked him right in the head, almost knocking off his sunglasses. He clutched his stinging head and looked at the kid running over, about to cuss him out, but the kid bowed twice in a row, saying "Sorry, sorry" before grabbing the ball and booking it.

Because the kid ran off so fast, Gu Hansheng never got to yell at him. His phone suddenly rang—it was Gu Hong calling him back.

Gu Hong's flippant voice came through: "Son, what'd you call me for?"

The call he'd made that morning didn't get returned until the afternoon.

Gu Hansheng said, "It's my mom's death anniversary. You don't give a damn, do you?"

Gu Hong chuckled. "You know how the Fang family is. Haven't you wised up after getting kicked out last year? They won't give you a single cent of the Fang estate. Give it up."

Gu Hansheng's face went cold. "You think I'm honoring my mom to suck up to Grandpa?"

"You can be straight with your old man. I support you fighting and grabbing for what you want, just don't waste time on the Fang family. The Gu family's stuff is worth more."

As they say, talking to someone who doesn't get you is a waste of breath. Gu Hansheng hung up without another word. When he turned around, he saw the kid standing behind him, who knew how long he'd been waiting—maybe he'd heard everything.

Gu Hansheng was still pissed when the kid suddenly smiled and held out a box of ice cream to him. "Sorry about earlier. This is for you. Here."

"No. Leave me alone." Gu Hansheng said impatiently.

The kid was at a loss for a second, hesitating and not leaving. Gu Hansheng suddenly spoke again: "Let me ask you something. Does honoring a dead mother need a reason?"

The kid shook his head and answered without hesitation: "No."

Asking a kid a question like that—Gu Hansheng felt like he'd lost his mind. But hearing the answer struck him as absurd. Even a stranger understood something that Gu Hong refused to see, thinking he was after power and money.

Gu Hansheng stared blankly at the coastline. The kid sat down beside him and asked cautiously, "Your mom... passed away?"

Gu Hansheng ignored him. The kid offered the ice cream again. "If you're sad, you can eat something sweet."

"Do I look sad?" Gu Hansheng asked in return.

"Mm."

Fang Fuyi had slit her wrists, and Gu Hansheng was the first to find her. Because of her death, the Gu and Fang families had been at each other's throats, but not a single person had asked Gu Hansheng how he felt.

Instead, it was a stranger—a kid—who noticed his emotions and tried to comfort him in his clumsy way.

Gu Hansheng said nothing more, and the kid sat quietly beside him, not leaving.

He hadn't wanted to show weakness in front of others, but precisely because an irrelevant stranger sat beside him, he didn't need to hide any of his feelings.

After a while, Gu Hansheng asked, "Why haven't you left yet?"

The kid traced circles in the sand with his finger. He didn't have the heart to say that hearing about his mom's death made him miss his own mom too, but her calls never went through.

Eleven-year-old Zhao Yu silently empathized with fifteen-year-old Gu Hansheng's grief. They didn't know each other's names, yet there was a subtle emotional connection between them.

It wasn't until the ice cream slowly melted and beads of condensation soaked into the sand that Zhao Yu finally stood up and said, "Sorry about the volleyball hitting you... The ice cream is really sweet. If you're sad, you should really try it."

Gu Hansheng's fingers brushed against the still-cold ice cream box. He looked at Zhao Yu and, on a whim, asked, "Do you come here to play often?"

Hearing him initiate a conversation, Zhao Yu's nervousness vanished, replaced by that bright smile. He said enthusiastically, "Yeah! Want to play with us? I just started learning, but I'm pretty good. I can teach you. Don't worry—I guarantee you'll learn!"

Despite having been brushed off just moments ago, he didn't seem to care at all. His smile was radiant in the sunlight, making Gu Hansheng's mind go blank for a moment.

Gu Hansheng was stunned for a moment, then turned his head away: "No need, I'm not interested."

"Alright then, but if you ever get interested, you can still come find me. I need to head home now, bye!"

With that, Zhao Yu turned and left, his bare feet kicking up fine sand, his footsteps light and quick.

Gu Hansheng watched his figure grow increasingly distant, suddenly seized by a panic that he was about to lose something, wanting to stand up but instead sinking deeper into the sand, the more he struggled, the deeper he sank.

He knew that once they parted today, no matter how many times he returned to this beach, he would never encounter this boy again.

The melted ice cream was cloyingly sweet. He later bought the same vanilla chocolate flavor again—still sweet, but he didn't quite like the taste, so he never bought it again. Yet the memory of that day kept replaying in his mind, and the boy's smile never faded.

Gu Hansheng's eyes flew open, his chest heaving, only to find the room pitch dark.

"What's wrong?"

A drowsy voice came from beside him. Gu Hansheng's eyes gradually adjusted to the dark, and the moment he turned to see Zhao Yu, his heart finally settled back into place.

He lay back down on the bed, pulling Zhao Yu into his arms, hearing a sleepy voice: "Had a nightmare?"

"...No."

"What time is it?"

"Nine."

Zhao Yu squinted and yawned. The curtains blocked out too much light—the room was so dark it didn't feel like 9 a.m. at all.

He turned over to face Gu Hansheng and suddenly said, "I offered you ice cream that time—why didn't you eat it?"

Gu Hansheng looked at his blurred silhouette: "You remember that?"

"I dreamed about it," Zhao Yu said. "I just realized you had a terrible temper as a kid as well. Did you ever eat that ice cream? I bought it with my dinner money."

"I ate it." Gu Hansheng paused. "So you went hungry that night?"

"How could that be? The neighbor auntie helped me out—I was a total auntie-charmer as a kid."

"I can tell."

Zhao Yu smiled, feeling sleepy again, and closed his eyes: "Gu Hansheng, don't drink behind my back. We said we'd drink together—my stomach condition is already better... If there's something really painful, just say it out loud... Don't make me guess—I won't be able to figure it out..."

Gu Hansheng gazed at him, not daring to speak until he heard his breathing even out: "I love you—earlier than I ever realized."

He thought Zhao Yu had fallen asleep and hadn't heard, but that wasn't the case. Zhao Yu simply didn't want to call him out on the words he'd whispered in secret.

The delayed truth wouldn't shake Zhao Yu's heart. The world is always full of unexpected turns, but he could feel Gu Hansheng's love—not lost in the time they missed, but here, in this very moment.

Beyond the curtains, winter sunlight spilled over the sea. One day in the future, they would return to that beach in Boston, only this time Zhao Yu would buy mango slush, and Gu Hansheng wouldn't wait until it melted to take a single bite.