PP Chapter 22.3

    “It hurts…” Tang Junhe covered his ill-fated wrist, looked down pitifully at the red marks, and then looked up at Yang Xuan.

    “I’ll go get the spray.” Yang Xuan turned to go back to the room, but was pulled by Tang Junhe’s arm: “Eat first, and then spray later.”

    Yang Xuan was pulled by Tang Junhe’s arm toward the table, he could easily shake that hand but at this moment he could not do that inhumane act anyway so he let him pull himself away and then used his other hand to close the door.

    Tang Xiaonian, who walked out with a bowl of noodles, saw this scene. In a daze, her hands shook, and the noodle soup spilled some out and she immediately cried out with an “Ah!”

    She hurriedly brought the bowl of noodles to the dining table and went to the bathroom to get a mop out and clean up the noodle soup that had spilled onto the floor.

    Sitting at the table, Tang Junhe carefully hid the place where he was squeezed, and then took advantage of Tang Xiaonian’s inattention to unobtrusively push the bowl of noodles with more eggs in front of Yang Xuan and grabbed his chopsticks to eat the other bowl.

    When Tang Xiaonian put the mop back in place and then came over to see this scene, she was angry at her son who is busy “repaying her kindness by stabbing her in the back.” and because Yang Xuan is there, she can only hold her breath and go back to her room.

    Only when Tang Xiaonian went back to her room did Tang Junhe ask in a whisper, “Will you go?”

    Yang Xuan lowered his head and ate the noodles: “Hmm?”

    “The provincial basketball team, aren’t they going to recruit you in?”

    Yang Xuan just gave a concise and perfunctory answer, “I don’t know.”

    “I think you’ll go,” Tang Junhe didn’t mind his noncommittal answer and kept talking, “I’d go if it were me, what’s the good of staying here anyway? It’s good to go anywhere as long as you can go far away.”

    After he finished, he waited expectantly for Yang Xuan to deny it, but Yang Xuan just gave a “hmm” and said nothing.

    Yang Xuan finished his noodles first, went back to his room and got a bottle of bruise spray and without saying a word put it in front of Tang Junhe. Then he put the bowl in the dishwasher in the kitchen.

    At night, Tang Junhe sat on his bed, shook the bottle of spray that was only half left and sprayed his wrist a few times, and then held the bottle of spray and stared out at the rain crackling against the window.

    Half a day later, he got off the bed to the ground, put on his slippers and took the bottle of spray and went to knock on Yang Xuan’s door again.

    After knocking only once this time, he heard the sound of chairs shifting in the room, followed by the sound of gradually approaching footsteps. He began to silently draft in his mind again.

    The moment Yang Xuan pulled the door open, Tang Junhe felt the smell of smoke hit him, along with the smell of his body wash — exactly the same as the one on himself. As well as the slightly loud musical sound with foreign language lyrics being sung with unspeakable indignation.

    “Are you smoking?” He asked the question as soon as he thought of it, and then handed out the bottle of spray toward Yang Xuan.

    Yang Xuan “hmm”, with the hand that did not hold a cigarette to take the spray, Tang Junhe said again: “sprayed, but it still hurts.”

    “Spray some more,” Yang Xuan looked at him, slightly narrowed his eyes as he tried to resist the desire to ‘spray smoke’ into his face, he pushed the bottle of spray toward Tang Junhe, “give it to you.”

    “Really?” Tang Junhe did not expect to get his way so easily, and took it upon himself to increase the difficulty of the task, “but I do not know whether I sprayed it right…” He made a difficult expression and stretched out his wrist toward Yang Xuan, the red mark had begun to turn into a bruise.

    Yang Xuan looked at the other’s wrist and didn’t make a move. He looked at him again and said with a smile, “A good student can’t even do this?” Then he closed the door.

    Before he could react, Tang Junhe was blocked outside the door, and he regretted beyond measure that he had just lost his concentration and did not extend his wrist to block the door again.

    With a little more time, he might have been able to get in. Tang Junhe grabbed the bottle of spray with chagrin and went back to his room.


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Mei
A Japanese language student that decided to translate Chinese Novels during the pandemic. If you want to support us, you can buy us a ko-fi. To maintain the site and support the translators as well. Thank you for reading!
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