Like a Summer Dream. Part 1

His luggage was packed. Zhuang Fanxin's eyes, which hadn't closed all last night, were bloodshot. They felt dry, swollen, and a little sore. He walked to the balcony and stood for a moment. Tilting his neck to look at the sky brought no comfort. Instead, he recalled a line from a poem, "There was no way to ask the drifting clouds; at dusk, I closed the door in vain."

Zhuang Fanxin washed his face and, before night fell, made a trip to that jewelry studio. He had finished the crown. It was just that the accounts for miscellaneous items like auxiliary materials and wastage had just been cleared. He paid the bill, so the transaction could be considered complete.

The craftsman at the studio praised it repeatedly, how good the item was, how exquisite the design was, heaping praise on it. Zhuang Fanxin just smiled; he really didn't have the mental energy for pleasantries. He said "thank you" and took his leave.

The item was in a box and had some weight to it. Zhuang Fanxin carried it home in his arms. Upon entering, he ran into Zhuang Xianyang, who asked him, "A delivery?" He mumbled an "uh-huh," returned to his room and locked the door, as if shutting himself away. Only when there was no one else around could he relax.

He knelt by the bed, placing the box on the bedsheet without caring if it was dirty or clean. He opened it. Inside was a plastic document pouch containing the design drafts and electronic scans he had taken there. The item itself was in another box. He took it out and opened it, and for a moment, his eyes grew hot.

He already knew the appearance of this crown by heart. He had drawn a hundred sketches and made over a hundred revisions, big and small. While waiting for Gu Zhuoyan to return, he had worked intensively on its creation. By now, Zhuang Fanxin knew the shape of every piece of sea glass with his eyes closed.

The crown of deep and light blues, like an atoll, looked especially pristine on the white bedsheet.

Zhuang Fanxin reached out a fingertip to touch it. It was cool. Feeling that wasn't enough, he opened his arms and embraced it. He no longer had the mental capacity for extra thoughts, his mind a chaotic mess of shifting sand. All he knew was that he couldn't wait until March; he was destined to be absent for Gu Zhuoyan's eighteenth birthday.

After holding it in for several hours, the moment the name "Gu Zhuoyan" came to mind, Zhuang Fanxin was instantly undone—in pain, hopeless, leaning against the bed and curling into a shivering, unsettled ball. He didn't know if his decision was right or wrong. He couldn't think about it anymore. Perhaps he would regret it bitterly, perhaps he would lament it for the rest of his life, but right now, he couldn't find a better solution.

Xue Maochen was doing this for Gu Zhuoyan's own good. He believed that. So he agreed.

Zhuang Fanxin clutched his head, his thoughts a blank haze. What was the situation like at the Xue Family's house, a hundred meters away? Had Gu Zhuoyan's fever gone down? Would he resent him, hate him?

Downstairs, an engine started. Someone was here to look at the used car, and Zhuang Xianyang was taking the buyer out for a test drive. Zhao Jianqiu knocked on the door. "Fanxin, have you finished packing your luggage?"

"I'm done," Zhuang Fanxin replied.

Zhao Jianqiu said, "I've packed some flowers and plants. Come with me to move them over to Grandpa Xue's."

The garden at home was too lush, and ordinary people wouldn't know how to care for it, so Zhao Jianqiu divided up the plants and gave them to the neighbors. Daffodils, anthuriums, and large stalks of hyacinths. Zhuang Fanxin carried them trip after trip to the end of the alley. Xue Maochen didn't know much about these either; after they were moved, he helped plant them one by one.

They worked until late at night. Zhuang Fanxin washed his hands and went home. Before leaving, he kept looking up at the second floor. Xue Maochen walked him to the door and patted his shoulder. "Zhuoyan still has a bit of a fever. He's sleeping."

Zhuang Fanxin retracted his gaze. "I've let him down."

"This isn't letting him down, it's maturity," Xue Maochen said. "Even though it was Grandpa who forced you and demanded you do this."

"Grandpa," Zhuang Fanxin was terrified. "Will he hate me?"

Xue Maochen placated him, "He'll understand in a few days. The things I said to you, I'll tell him exactly, word for word."

Zhuang Fanxin turned and left. The distance of less than a hundred meters left him utterly exhausted. He hadn't slept for two days and a night. Now that the dust had settled and the situation was beyond remedy, his pupils were unfocused and his steps were unsteady. He climbed into bed, hugged that birthday gift, and fell asleep.

The sea glass pressed against his skin, a chamber of iciness.

This gift was more spirit than craft, more affection than talent. Zhuang Fanxin held it all night, warming it with his body. However, the farewell and breakup were already a fact. Like warm sun shining on the sea, the ripples were indeed moving, but the cold deep below was still heart-wrenching and soul-crushing.

On the last day before leaving, everything was packed and settled. The family visited a few friends to say goodbye, just waiting to depart the next morning. Zhuang Fanxin met Pei Zhi and recounted the whole story. He didn't cry, just laughed to himself with swollen eyes. It looked just like the final rally of a terminally ill person.

That night, Zhuang Fanxin hid in the small side road, hugging the box. He took a deep breath, putting on a relaxed and gracious act, but in reality, his hand trembled uncontrollably as he dialed. He suppressed his emotions, brazenly called Gu Zhuoyan, and the call finally connected after a long time.

"Are you feeling better?" The moment he spoke, Zhuang Fanxin nearly choked up. "I have something for you."

Gu Zhuoyan's voice was hoarse. "Since we've broken up, I don't want your things."

"It's my..." Zhuang Fanxin grew anxious, but it was an anxiety born of guilt and apology. He didn't dare refute loudly, only able to add more pitifully, "It's my birthday gift to you."

Silence on the phone for a few seconds, which felt as long as an hour. Gu Zhuoyan said, "There's no such thing as a birthday gift given months in advance, and I don't want to look at it on my birthday and think of you."

An eighteenth birthday gift was given, but what about the nineteenth? The twentieth?

Zhuang Fanxin pleaded again and again, "Can you come out... I'll wait for you at the little side road."

Gu Zhuoyan said, "I don't want it," and hung up the phone.

It was still that stray cat, and still that bluestone slab. Zhuang Fanxin sat on it, hugging the box, and waited. He waited from nine o'clock until the early morning, from the early morning until dawn.

He had no more time to wait. He glanced at the Xue Family's main gate. It was locked. Gu Zhuoyan wasn't going to come out to see him. This weighty gift had become superfluous and ridiculous. He was the one who broke up, he was the one who called it quits. Why insist on forcing the other person to accept his damn crown?

Zhuang Fanxin walked to the base of the wall, raised his hand, and tossed the entire box into the trash can. It kicked up a cloud of dust, and once the lid fell shut, nothing could be seen.

One hundred thirty-seven design drafts, a dozen or so precise scans, the unused sea glass—he threw it all away.

The called car was waiting at the door. All the suitcases were loaded, and the door was locked. The family was about to leave Rong City. Gu Baoyan hugged Zhuang Fanxin's leg, wailing. Zhuang Fanxin bent down to hug her and whispered, "Little sister, tell your brother for me, I'm sorry."

No matter how intense the reluctance to part, it would eventually turn into a wisp of grayish-white exhaust fumes, dissipating in a few seconds.

The back of the car turned out of the alley and was long out of sight. Gu Baoyan was still crying, holding Xue Maochen's hand, teardrops falling one after another. Suddenly, Gu Zhuoyan rushed out from the end of the alley, ran past them, and dashed out without looking back.

With the end of the year approaching, the airport was more crowded than usual. After checking their luggage and getting their boarding passes, Zhuang Xianyang put his arms around his wife and son and went to queue for the security check. He sighed with emotion, "We're really leaving. We've lived here for so many years, after all. It's hard not to feel sad at a moment like this."

Zhao Jianqiu asked with a smile, "Son, why have you been so quiet the whole way?"

Zhuang Fanxin forced a smile, not knowing how to answer. As he reached the end of the security line, he pretended to search for his ID card to evade his parents' teasing.

In a daze, he heard someone calling his name.

Far behind him, someone was shouting loudly, "Zhuang Fanxin."

Gu Zhuoyan came running, covered in the sweat of a high fever. In the bustling crowd, he shouted until his voice was hoarse. When he ran near the security checkpoint, he finally saw Zhuang Fanxin's figure.

"—Zhuang Fanxin!" He skidded to a stop. "Come back..."

Zhuang Fanxin rushed out of the line and ran to Gu Zhuoyan. He reached out to wipe the sweat from Gu Zhuoyan's forehead, saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again.

Gu Zhuoyan looked down at him, the coldness from their phone call gone, with only a final shred of reason left. "Over there, take good care of yourself."

"You too," Zhuang Fanxin said. "All my worries were wrong. Your admirers, your parents and family... I thought that one day they would cause trouble, but you resisted every potential problem. In the end, the one who was cowardly and went back on his word was me."

Gu Zhuoyan hugged him. "I really hated you. I hated you for a whole day and night." He closed his eyes slightly, rubbing against Zhuang Fanxin's soft, thick hair. "The moment you got in the car and left, all I had left was fear."

Zhuang Fanxin sobbed, "I really like you... I wanted to tell you that if my grandfather gets better, I'll come back... I don't want anything else... I don't want anything anymore..." He was sobbing so hard his words were a mess. "But I can't... I can't make promises so carelessly anymore."

Zhuang Fanxin had little courage or confidence left. For his last sentence, he whispered, "If you come to like someone else, I'll wish you well too."

Gu Zhuoyan wiped the tears from his face, but they kept coming. It was getting late. Zhuang Xianyang and Zhao Jianqiu were calling him from behind. "Zhuang Fanxin, do you remember?" Gu Zhuoyan said. "That time in the art studio, you asked me to be your model and said you'd grant me one condition."

Zhuang Fanxin nodded. He remembered, but Gu Zhuoyan had never brought it up.

"I've thought of it now, and you have to do it."

"No matter what happens in the future," Gu Zhuoyan whispered into Zhuang Fanxin's ear, "don't forget me."

They had already drawn a lot of attention. Zhuang Fanxin nodded in agreement, stepped back, and waved to Gu Zhuoyan. But as he turned and looked at Zhuang Xianyang and Zhao Jianqiu, he hesitated for two seconds, then spun around and rushed back to Gu Zhuoyan.

In the crowd, under everyone's gaze, Zhuang Fanxin clung to Gu Zhuoyan's shoulders and kissed him.

He was timid, cowardly, and indecisive. This was his bravest moment. He wanted to tell his parents that he had a tie here, one he would never forget.

Their lips parted. Zhuang Fanxin said goodbye.

Turning back to the security line, he finally broke down and wailed.

The afternoon of the day Zhuang Fanxin left, Gu Zhuoyan was hospitalized with a forty-degree fever and took a full week to recover. After that, Xue Maochen took the initiative to suggest that Gu Zhuoyan go back home, and Gu Shibo and Xue Manzi agreed.

Rong City was now a place of heartbreak. Taking advantage of the winter break, Gu Zhuoyan and Gu Baoyan transferred schools, and the siblings returned home together. They spent the Spring Festival at the Gu Family's large estate. Xue Maochen and Gu Pingfang tasted wine and chatted. The younger generation of visitors nearly wore out the doorstep. In short, it was very festive.

Gu Zhuoyan, however, was listless, holing up in his private villa all day and not showing his face. He would occasionally come out to walk Bond, and standing on the lawn, he would fall into a trance. The villa's door was on the north side, a solid pane of glass. Inside was an entryway of about a dozen square meters. He would sit on the sofa behind the door to change his shoes, often sitting motionless long after he was done.

Su Wang, Lu Wen, and Lian Yiming came to find him, to play ball, play games, or just lie around and chat. It seemed lively, but in reality, he had no interest at all, merely drifting on the periphery.

It took Gu Zhuoyan a long time to become desensitized. Then he went from one extreme to the other. He almost completely gave up socializing, pouring all his energy into his studies. There were rumors at his new school about him coming out, but over time, the gossip about him was updated and replaced, turning into talk of how good his grades were and how many competition awards he had won.

Gu Shibo and Xue Manzi also changed somewhat. They no longer avoided the issue of their son's sexual orientation. When receiving guests, chatting idly, or even at glamorous social events, if the topic inadvertently came up, they would openly admit it without feeling the slightest bit of embarrassment.