The Unspoken Apology

It was ‘Su Yan’ they called, not the more intimate ‘Yan Yan’.

For reasons unknown, Su Yan felt an invisible hand pressing down on his shoulder, an oppressive weight that stole his breath.

In the hollow silence of the dorm room, that single call of “Su Yan” echoed with unsettling clarity. Su Yan’s hands instinctively clenched into fists, his lips parting slightly, yet no words escaped them.

Lu Lin wasn’t terrifying; he was kind, so very kind—or at least, a tiny bit kind.

These phrases spun frantically through Su Yan’s mind, a desperate attempt to hypnotize himself and quell the rising tide of fear.

He realized then that it wasn’t Lu Lin himself he had ceased to fear, but rather the carefully constructed facade Lu Lin presented.

The moment Lu Lin’s true nature, as depicted in the book, began to resurface, Su Yan would be overcome with a primal terror, feeling as though his life hung by a thread.

To be frank, Su Yan was no fearless hero; he harbored no grand dreams of heroism and, if anything, could be considered rather timid.

Having his young life so abruptly and unfairly cut short in his previous existence, he had certainly harbored resentment. ‘How could I have walked without looking at the traffic light?’ he’d often wondered.

Yet, were he truly able to relive that fateful day, he knew he would still choose, without hesitation, to sacrifice himself for the little girl. After all, he possessed nothing of consequence, and perhaps an earlier demise would have simply spared him further suffering.

While Su Yan was lost in thought, Lu Lin had silently drawn closer. He extended an index finger, gently lifting Su Yan’s chin, and chuckled softly. “Are you spacing out?”

Su Yan gasped inwardly.

Su Yan couldn’t fathom what eccentricity possessed Lu Lin, making him so fond of narrating others’ present actions.

The dorm bed curtains were drawn tightly shut, leaving not a single sliver of light to penetrate the room. With no lamps illuminated, the environment was so utterly dark that one could truly say it was impossible to see one’s own hand.

Adding to the disorienting gloom, Su Yan also suffered from night blindness.

Hearing Lu Lin’s soft laughter, Su Yan had mistakenly assumed he was in good spirits. Yet, just as he reached for the ointment in his drawer, Lu Lin’s voice cut through the darkness, chillingly devoid of warmth.

“But I am very angry.”

Su Yan had grown accustomed to these daily rituals of trying to decipher the cause of Lu Lin’s ire.

Su Yan merely offered an ellipsis. ‘Actually,’ he thought, ‘I’m quite angry myself.’

Had any other friend uttered such words, he would have immediately offered comfort. However, facing the profoundly erratic Lu Lin, Su Yan feared that any utterance from him would only fan the flames of Lu Lin’s fury.

It seemed he now understood the true meaning behind Qi Zhiyao’s warning to ‘stay safe’.

In truth, he desperately wanted to ask, ‘What’s wrong with you *this time*?’

“How will you compensate me then?”

With those words, Lu Lin flicked the light switch, and with a soft ‘click,’ the dorm room was bathed in light once more.

Su Yan froze, utterly dumbfounded. While he remained oblivious to the cause of Lu Lin’s latest pique, he had certainly not anticipated such a casual, almost dismissive, inquiry about compensation.

He had not, for once, used it as a pretext to torment him.

Su Yan was perplexed by the complex expression on Lu Lin’s face as he gazed at him. Lu Lin’s lips were tightly pursed into a thin line, and a faint blush even dusted the tips of his ears.

Su Yan tentatively reached up to touch his own face, only to discover, to his mortification, that he had been so utterly terrified he had cried. ‘How incredibly embarrassing!’ he thought.

Lu Lin cast several sidelong glances at Su Yan, before finally uttering a single, soft apology. “I’m sorry.”

This time, it was Su Yan who was left utterly stunned. His naturally curled eyelashes were already damp with tears, and a delicate flush bloomed across his fair skin, making him appear utterly pitiable.

Lu Lin’s recent actions were undeniably unexpected. Could he truly have changed?

The Lu Lin of old might well have choked him, fiercely demanding that he stop crying—that chilling first impression was etched into Su Yan’s memory, not a mere fabrication.

This troubling question was momentarily relegated to the deepest recesses of Su Yan’s mind, for his gaze had just fallen upon a section of Lu Lin’s arm, peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his hoodie.

Having been crying moments earlier, his voice was still thick with a noticeable catch as he managed to ask, “What happened to your hand?”

An unexpected harmony settled between the two of them.

The sheer shock of the discovery momentarily eclipsed his lingering fear.

Disregarding Lu Lin’s unspoken reluctance, Su Yan seized his forearm. The instant the sleeve was pushed back, his eyes widened, overcome with profound shock.

Lu Lin, however, appeared utterly unfazed. He regarded Su Yan’s expression of concern with an intrigued smile, his dark pupils mirroring Su Yan’s reflection.

“Yan Yan,” the youth’s clear voice chimed, “it seems you don’t dislike me after all.”

The youth’s clear voice chimed, his captivating ‘peach blossom’ eyes narrowing slightly as he smiled. He deliberately drew out the final syllable of “dislike,” as if he had just unearthed a truly delightful revelation.

Su Yan blinked, staring blankly at Lu Lin. He hadn’t ever *said* he disliked him, had he? Was Lu Lin truly getting upset over this by himself, and then subsequently scaring Su Yan to tears?

The sheer awkwardness of the situation was beyond words.

Yet, a more pressing matter demanded his attention. Su Yan lowered his gaze, his eyes fixed once more on the wound on Lu Lin’s hand, his emotions a turbulent, unreadable mix.

The injuries on his hand had worsened considerably since two days prior, and the distinct, cruel marks of a stick’s impact were still clearly visible.

Lu Lin genuinely seemed unconcerned; he could easily bear such minor injuries. And because Su Yan had been so anxious to return to school, Lu Lin had only bothered with a cursory bandage.

Su Yan found himself speechless, staring at the alarmingly rudimentary bandaging. It didn’t suggest a desire for quick healing, but rather a mere intention to stop the bleeding and avoid death.

Lu Lin’s forearm was strikingly handsome, with sleek, well-defined muscles that were never overtly exaggerated. Now, however, it was marred by numerous ‘grotesque’ wounds.

While the sensation of being cared for was pleasant, Lu Lin was unaccustomed to it, convinced he was undeserving.

His earlier remark received no reply from Su Yan, who remained fixated on his wounds. Consequently, Lu Lin stiffened, attempting to withdraw his hand.

Noticing his attempt to pull away, Su Yan lifted his eyelids and pursed his lips. “Let’s go to the hospital,” he stated.

This injury was far beyond the scope of a mere ointment application; without proper medical attention, the likelihood of permanent scarring was significant, especially given how remarkably handsome his hand was.

‘Even if he refuses,’ Su Yan decided inwardly, ‘I’ll have to force him.’ Even stripping away the pretense of being boyfriends, if Lu Lin were merely a friend, Su Yan simply couldn’t bear to see him suffer.

To his surprise, Lu Lin’s body tensed, and a single, almost imperceptible “Mm” escaped his lips.

Perhaps he simply couldn’t bring himself to refuse Su Yan.

The journey was undertaken in silence. The hour was already late, and Su Yan calculated that taking Lu Lin to the hospital and returning would likely bring him back just as the dorm doors were closing for the night.

Despite their nominal status as a couple, no hint of intimacy lingered between them. Lu Lin felt no regret, convinced that Su Yan could only ever belong to him.

No one else would possess him, no one else would even dare to covet him, for if they did, Lu Lin knew he would surely descend into madness.

Su Yan’s silence stemmed from a burgeoning suspicion within his mind, one that inexplicably connected two seemingly unrelated individuals.

Yet, he required more time to ascertain whether his nascent theory truly held water.

Su Yan observed that Lu Lin harbored a strong aversion to any physical contact from individuals other than himself, his features frequently betraying a flicker of impatience.

They headed to a rather expensive private hospital, as Su Yan prioritized efficiency, genuinely fearing that if they delayed any longer, Lu Lin’s hand might suffer irreparable damage.

While Lu Lin’s expression remained as impassive as ever, Su Yan knew with certainty that this was merely a consequence of his congenital insensitivity to pain.

A normal person suffering such an injury would have long since been grimacing in agony, certainly not conversing with such composure as Lu Lin.

As expected, Lu Lin was diagnosed with a fracture in addition to numerous superficial wounds.

Su Yan now genuinely considered Lu Lin to be a mere acquaintance, albeit one with a five-star danger rating. He held the X-ray film aloft, meticulously examining it with narrowed eyes.

‘It’s a good thing I brought him to the hospital,’ he mused.

Ultimately, Su Yan returned to the dorm alone. Lu Lin had been admitted for hospitalization, and just as his cold expression threatened to erupt into a tantrum, Su Yan had leaned in to whisper something in his ear, instantly calming him.

No sooner had Su Yan arrived back at the dorm than he explained Lu Lin’s hospitalization to his two roommates, who had just returned from the internet cafe. For some inexplicable reason, he kept catching Song Xingyu’s peculiar gaze lingering on him.

****

The next day arrived swiftly, and to Su Yan’s surprise, Qi Zhiyao turned out to be in the same major, and even the same class, as him.

As soon as Qi Zhiyao appeared, he approached with a look of concern, his voice a perfectly modulated coo. “Were you injured last night?” he inquired.

“For instance…” Qi Zhiyao’s gaze slowly descended, ultimately seeming to settle on Su Yan’s backside.

Su Yan’s mental response was succinct: ‘Sicko.’

“Do you want me to strip off all my clothes for your inspection?” Su Yan quipped, still half-asleep and with tears welling in his eyes despite his playful tone.

Though he couldn’t fathom the reason behind the question, he forced himself to jest, fighting against his overwhelming drowsiness.

The professor was still lecturing at the front of the room, while Qi Zhiyao feigned attentiveness, trying to mask his true intentions. He clearly had something he wanted to ask, but ultimately thought better of it and kept silent.

Fortunately, there was only one class that morning. Su Yan decided to bid farewell to Qi Zhiyao directly, informing him that he was heading to the hospital to visit Lu Lin.

Initially, Qi Zhiyao had been loudly lamenting his lonely, boring, and pitiful existence, having traveled across the ocean to study on the mainland.

However, upon hearing that Su Yan was visiting Lu Lin in the hospital, his expression instantly transformed. He declared, with righteous indignation, “What a pitiful mess I am!”

Su Yan couldn’t help but feel as if Qi Zhiyao was insulting himself.

Thinking that Lu Lin probably hadn’t eaten and, given his temper, wouldn’t be inclined to eat hospital food, Su Yan decided to pack him a meal.

He knew of a particularly delicious home-style restaurant, known for its cleanliness and hygiene. Despite its somewhat remote location and lack of delivery service, it was, in his opinion, the very definition of ‘perfect’.

He hailed a taxi and leaned against the window, dozing for a while. The sun beat down so fiercely that it seemed intent on melting the car window, making his face flush several shades redder.

Forty to fifty minutes later, the taxi reached its destination.

To travel over an hour, just to buy food for Lu Lin—Su Yan found himself feeling a little touched on Lu Lin’s behalf.

Before he could fully indulge in this sentiment, his eyes fell upon dozens of men in black suits standing a few dozen meters from the restaurant. Several of them carried electric batons, and their disciplined posture bespoke professional training.

Su Yan felt a flicker of confusion. ‘Why would such a small establishment employ so many bodyguards? Are they afraid someone might steal their cooking oil and salt?’ he wondered.

To his alarm, the moment the bodyguards spotted him, they began to advance in perfect unison.

Su Yan’s heart pounded. ‘This isn’t right,’ he thought.

The restaurant was situated in the city’s outskirts, surrounded almost entirely by construction sites. If something truly unexpected happened here, he realized, no amount of screaming would likely reach anyone.

‘No, wait, there’s the proprietress,’ he corrected himself.

As the group of men in black drew closer, the proprietress emerged from the restaurant, carrying a basket of vegetables, which she began to sort while sitting by the entrance—a true savior.

The leader of the black-suited men, a figure with a well-tailored suit, an electric baton in hand, and a walkie-talkie clipped to his waist, exuded an aura of immense strength. His heavily muscled frame suggested he could easily take down two of Su Yan with a single punch.

Just as Su Yan prepared to flee, his hand was seized by the approaching bodyguards.

And just as he opened his mouth to cry for help, the proprietress, having finished sorting her vegetables, retreated inside the restaurant to watch her favorite matchmaking show.

Life, it seemed, was truly a dramatic affair, much like the five-yuan life that had been so casually discarded in his previous existence.

Su Yan felt the familiar sting of tears once more. ‘Why does my life always feel like a movie?’ he lamented.