Tang Junhe’s whole body was muddled, being dragged by Yang Xuan’s arm. He was terrified, could not say a word and couldn’t muster up any energy. His attempt to kill Zhou Lin had exhausted all his strength and courage, and he did not dare to recall that he had almost become a murderer.
His cold sweat ran down, moistening the hair in front of his forehead, which was knotted into locks and rested limply on his flushed face.
His two legs were so limp, and every step he stumbled to the ground, Yang Xuan could only stop, stretched out his arms to hold him, supporting him to walk forward a few steps, and felt that the speed was too slow, so he let go of Tang Junhe and half squatted with his back to him, turning back to say, “Come up.”
As he stood up with Tang Junhe on his back, his half-brother lay limply on his back, all cold. The ribs of his chest and the spine of his back were pressed against each other, and the hard bones were rubbing against each other as he walked, causing some pain, but no one said a word.
Yang Xuan heard his brother crying, the voice was low, as if deliberately suppressed, with endless despair and aggression. His shirt was wet with tears, and through the thin fabric, the wet and warm liquid flowed onto his back.
What has he been through and how come he would rather kill that man than ask for help? Hasn’t he told his mother or Yang Chengchuan about this? Wasn’t he always raised by his mother as a little princess?
Countless questions came to Yang Xuan’s throat and his desire to ‘talk’ was never so strong and yet he swallowed them back and listened in silence as his brother whimpered on his back, crying like a small, desperate animal.
Walking to the bike that fell to the ground, Yang Xuan put Tang Junhe off his back first, picked up the bike, and then helped Tang Junhe, who was crying with snot and tears, to sit down on his bike. He then fished out a pack of tissue with only two or three sheets left from his coat pocket and stuffed it into Tang Junhe’s hand, then rode on the bike with one foot on the pedal and one foot on the ground.
Fearing that Tang Junhe could not catch himself, he turned back and grabbed the arm covered under the school uniform and pressed it on his waist, then kept this position and rode home with one hand on the front of the bicycle.
Riding up to the entrance of the building, Tang Junhe, who had been crying all the way, had eased-up and hopped down on his own, standing next to Yang Xuan locking the bike.
When Yang Xuan was done, he glanced at Tang Junhe, saw his mood stabilize and didn’t say anything more, and bypassed him to walk in front. After taking two steps, Tang Junhe behind him suddenly made a sound, with a dampness that had not completely faded, and whispered, “I don’t want to go back.”
Yang Xuan stood still, turned around and looked at Tang Junhe, who was still staying in place without making a sound.
“I, I can’t go back,” Yang Xuan’s expression looked a little fierce and Tang Junhe, who knew he was being a bit meddlesome, explained in a whisper, “My mom would see that something was wrong with me and she would keep asking me, I can’t…”
Yang Xuan interrupted him: “You never told her?”
Tang Junhe stood still as if he had done something wrong, and gave a low “Mm”, then added: “Or you go back first, I’ll wait…”
His beautiful, cat-like eyes were wet from crying, even his nose was red from crying. His hair was a mess from the wind, and he looked wretched and pitiful as he stood in the corridor at a loss, reminding Yang Xuan of the day he first saw him as a child — when he cried much more fiercely than this time.
“Then where to go?” Yang Xuan stared at him and spoke again.
“I don’t know,” Tang Junhe said hesitantly, tugging at the cuffs of his school uniform, “I want to take a shower.”
He wanted to wash off the disgusting saliva that Zhou Lin left on his neck and face, and even though the smell of alcohol was blown all the way by the wind it still seemed to linger around him.
Yang Xuan irritably raised his hand and scratched his hair, frowned at him for a moment and briefly dropped the phrase “you wait here”, then turned around and went upstairs.
Tang Junhe stood in the corridor and listened to the “thud, thud, thud” sound of Yang Xuan stepping over the stairs. In the past, Yang Xuan always asked him to stand in place and wait, and in a few moments he would come back to find him, and this time it must be the same.