FLME Ch75

Xie Heyu’s handwriting was something Yu Wen had seen before—elegant and proper. The words on the uniform, however, were written with a hint of immaturity, the strokes not yet fully formed. Yet, anyone familiar with his handwriting could immediately recognize it as Xie Heyu’s.

Yu Wen pinched the fabric of the uniform, sensing that something was off.

The design could be a coincidence… but the words “Xiao Yu Gege” written inside the lining?

No matter how he looked at it, this term seemed to refer to a specific person. The identical design, the similar symbolic significance—it was too much to dismiss as mere coincidence.

Yu Wen pondered for a moment, and his mind quickly filled with sci-fi scenarios: parallel universes? Aliens? Clones? A future world?

Or, in a more melodramatic twist… perhaps he was currently in a state of amnesia, having forgotten his lover. Xie Heyu had been holding onto memories of their past, starting over with him, while the evidence of their love remained in old belongings, untouched by the loss of memory…

Wow, so melodramatic.

Yu Wen felt a rush of excitement from his own imaginings and ran out with the uniform, only to bump into Xie Heyu coming downstairs in the living room.

“Teacher Xie, explain this!” Yu Wen spread the uniform open, looking at Xie Heyu with burning curiosity. Though his tone was questioning, his expression was more intrigued than accusatory.

Xie Heyu’s gaze shifted from Yu Wen’s face to the handwriting on the lining, his eyes narrowing sharply.

Before asking, Yu Wen had thought this might involve some past event that Xie Heyu would slowly recall. He imagined it as some grand twist of fate, with countless coincidences inexplicably connecting two people from different worlds… proof of their destined bond.

But Xie Heyu’s prolonged silence wasn’t the expression of someone reminiscing.

Yu Wen’s playful smile slowly faded. Lowering the uniform, he asked, “Have we really met before?”

He remembered that long ago, Xie Heyu had once asked him, “Have we met?” But Xie Jiamao had explained it away as a symptom of post-concussion syndrome, and Xie Heyu hadn’t brought it up again.

Xie Heyu frowned, as if wanting to refute the question. His lips moved slightly, but he couldn’t seem to say anything in defense.

Making up stories was one thing, but if such an unbelievable tale had actually happened to him, Yu Wen wasn’t sure he could accept it.

He hoped it was just a coincidence.

Yu Wen raised his eyes, staring intently at Xie Heyu, and probed, “Do you know where I came from…?”

“…I do,” Xie Heyu finally said. “I guessed it. You—”

Yu Wen interrupted, “I mean, before I deliberately gave you any hints.”

Xie Heyu: “…”

His silence was all the answer Yu Wen needed.

The living room was cluttered, leaving no place to sit. Yu Wen wanted to find somewhere to have a proper conversation, but the room was filled with boxes. When Xie Heyu reached out to take his hand, Yu Wen instinctively flinched away, even though he hadn’t fully thought it through.

“…”

His back pressed against the cold wall, the chill seeping through his clothes and into his skin. Yu Wen froze in place, and Xie Heyu seemed equally taken aback.

Secrecy was like a blade, cutting through the harmony of their relationship. The body, more honest than the mind, betrayed the presence of a rift, making it impossible to maintain the intimacy they once had.

Xie Heyu stood stunned for a moment before his expression slowly turned serious.

Without saying a word, he grabbed Yu Wen’s wrist, ignoring the slight resistance, and pulled him into an embrace. He gently patted the back of Yu Wen’s head and said, “I’ve seen you before. A long time ago… in a dream.”

A long time ago wasn’t actually that long—his last dream of this kind had been four or five years ago. But because it was a dream, the images felt distant and ethereal in his mind, fragmented like stories from a lifetime ago.

For several years, Xie Heyu had frequent dreams, possibly as a side effect of his concussion. The dreams were bizarre and varied, filled with strange and fantastical scenes.

The details of the dreams would fade upon waking, no matter how vivid they had seemed. Within three to five days, they would be forgotten entirely. Xie Heyu didn’t remember much about the content of the dreams, except for one recurring figure he saw clearly.

A brother with a tear-shaped mole at the corner of his eye.

He didn’t know the person’s name, but he often saw a distinctive little fish design drawn in the margins of their notebooks.

At ten years old, Xie Heyu had called him “Xiao Yu Gege.”

His post-concussion symptoms had lasted from the age of ten until about fifteen. During those years, he had recurring dreams and went for regular check-ups at the hospital. The doctors couldn’t explain the phenomenon and could only prescribe medication.

The dreams were chaotic, and sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, paralyzed with fear. His family had been deeply worried and treated him with extra care during that period.

Xie Heyu had always been mature for his age. If he had to name one thing that had troubled him growing up, those strange dreams would certainly be on the list.

The poor sleep quality even began to affect his ability to focus in class during the day.

Later, before falling asleep, he would pray to dream of that Xiao Yu again.

The dreams of Xiao Yu Gege were the most peaceful, even carrying a warmth like the sun. He smiled often, was well-liked by teachers and classmates, rushed into school in the morning with messy hair, and after school, he would ride his bike down the sycamore-lined streets, a small snack from the store dangling from his mouth…

Xie Heyu could never clearly see his face, but he imagined he must have been very good-looking because many people at school liked him—both boys and girls.

Xie Heyu’s dreams lasted for five years, and it seemed that Xiao Yu Gege was growing up within them. The setting shifted from high school to college…

And he was still popular, with even more boys showing interest in him.

Xiao Yu often had to clarify to any approaching male, “I’m not into guys, I’m not interested in you, and I hope you’re not interested in me either.”

The aftereffects of Xie Heyu’s concussion plagued him for four to five years. After starting middle school, the nightmares gradually subsided, and his so-called condition seemed to be improving.

One day, he had a strange premonition that he might never dream of that Xiao Yu again. While the memory was still fresh, he drew the beautiful Fish symbol on his school uniform, writing “Xiao Yu” on the inner lining. After hesitating for a long time, he added two more words: “Gege.”

This five-year-long dream encounter ended on a sunny afternoon. The words “Xiao Yu Gege became Xie Heyu’s farewell poem.

After that, Xie Heyu almost never dreamed again, nor did he see any familiar faces in his dreams.

When he first saw Yu Wen at the bus stop, he genuinely didn’t remember. After all, Xiao Yu Gege’s face had always been blurry in his memory, and five years had passed—he couldn’t even recall the Fish symbol…

Dreams were far easier for the brain to forget than ordinary memories.

It wasn’t until helping Yu Wen move that he saw a familiar doodle on the computer. That glimpse unearthed a fragment of buried memories. He immediately went home to search through his old belongings and found the evidence on his school uniform that he had once known Yu Wen.

Recalling all this, realizing that Yu Wen didn’t belong to this world, felt like a natural conclusion.

“Yu Wen, haven’t you noticed? Your connection to this place is almost nonexistent. You have no parents, no relatives. Even if you were an orphan… your past twenty-odd years shouldn’t be completely blank…” Xie Heyu said softly.

Yu Wen stared at the ceiling without speaking.

These were glaring inconsistencies, but in the entertainment industry, where everyone was busy with their own lives, no one would be foolish enough to ask about an artist’s family background. As long as Yu Wen didn’t bring it up, no one would ask.

But to those close to him, like Xie Heyu, a little attention was enough to uncover countless clues.

Yu Wen’s background was full of holes, like a sieve.

“…You’re right,” Yu Wen said slowly. “I haven’t been honest with you either, so I have no right to demand the same from you…”

Xie Heyu held him tighter. “That’s not what I mean.”

Yu Wen said, “This story is very romantic. I know you’re not making it up. If I had heard it earlier, I would have been thrilled—so thrilled I’d believe we were destined for each other, soulmates meant to be. I’d be dragging you to the marriage bureau right now—”

Xie Heyu held his breath, waiting for the rest.

“But—”

Of course.

Yu Wen continued, “Teacher Xie, you have so many things in your heart, yet I can’t see a trace of them. Maybe in the future, when you’re sad or lost, as long as you don’t want me to know, I won’t notice.”

After a pause, he added, disappointed, “Teacher Xie, you’re too silent. I’ve just realized I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

He didn’t like a relationship where only one person gave, and the other passively received.

An unbalanced relationship would only suffocate him.

Xie Heyu’s explanation was as concise as ever. Even in a moment like this, he didn’t try to sway Yu Wen with emotions. He simply stated the facts and clarified the situation.

Yet, with just a few words, Yu Wen’s heart was already pounding.

In Xie Heyu’s calm recounting, he could picture a boy with a still-youthful face carefully writing “Xiao Yu Gege” on a school uniform. The afternoon sunlight poured down, dancing on his eyelashes and profile… and even earlier, in a dimly lit bedroom, the boy sat at the bedside with a serious expression, praying for Xiao Yu to appear in his dreams…

Yu Wen couldn’t help but love Teacher Xie even more, and at the same time, he felt even sadder.

From the time they started dating until now, all this time…

Teacher Xie, why did you keep such a beautiful experience to yourself?

Xie Heyu buried his face in Yu Wen’s shoulder and murmured, “I’ll talk more in the future…”

Yu Wen’s stiff upper body finally relaxed. He closed his eyes lightly and muttered, “It’s fine. Just leave it.”

It wasn’t about talking more or less. He simply couldn’t understand why something so simple had to be hidden. If Xie Heyu had said it earlier, they might have been together much sooner. When he first heard the confession, he had hesitated for a long time, worried that his unpredictable nature might hurt Xie Heyu.

If he had known this earlier, he wouldn’t have hesitated—he would have started dating him right away.

“…Are you going to break up with me?” Xie Heyu asked after a long silence, his voice muffled.

Yu Wen’s eyes snapped open.

“What?”

Xie Heyu hugged him tightly and refused to let go, childishly saying, “I won’t break up.”

It wasn’t… it wasn’t even that serious.

Xie Heyu held him so tightly that Yu Wen could barely move. After much effort, he managed to raise a hand, intending to comfort him, but then froze mid-air.

Yu Wen hesitantly asked, “Are you… crying?”

The fabric on his shoulder felt slightly damp, and warmth was spreading. At first, he thought it was Xie Heyu’s breath, but upon closer feeling, it seemed to be liquid.

Xie Heyu sniffled and said, “No.”

Yu Wen: “…”

Good heavens, how did his boyfriend turn out to be such a crybaby?

Yu Wen wanted to lift his face to take a look—to see what a cool guy crying would look like—but Xie Heyu was clinging to him so tightly that he couldn’t move at all. After struggling for a bit, Xie Heyu only held him tighter. Frustrated, Yu Wen said, “Let go, just let go first…”

Perhaps hearing the irritation in his voice, Xie Heyu wavered slightly and, after some urging, slowly loosened his grip.

He stepped back a few paces, leaning against the staircase railing with his head lowered. His posture was still oddly composed, with one hand in his pocket, exuding a certain flair.

…Except his eyes were red, and his eyelashes were a bit damp—he had definitely been crying.

Yu Wen initially wanted to laugh, but seeing him like this, he couldn’t bring himself to.

“…Why are you crying?” Yu Wen, still feeling awkward after their earlier quarrel, fidgeted with his fingers behind his back. “I didn’t say I wanted to break up… it’s just a small matter… don’t overthink it…”

Xie Heyu stepped forward and kissed him.

Though his expression didn’t change much, after Yu Wen said they wouldn’t break up, Xie Heyu’s actions became noticeably bolder. The kiss was sticky and lingering, and he even dared to teasingly touch Yu Wen’s waist.

Yu Wen considered it for a moment.

Xie Heyu’s new home—location, check.
Day off tomorrow—timing, check.
Just had a fight—need for deeper communication to strengthen their relationship… everything checked out.

Conclusion: Proceed.

He straightened his posture slightly, and Xie Heyu understood the signal, scooping him up and carrying him upstairs.

The master bedroom’s bed was already made, though some miscellaneous boxes were still scattered on the floor. They practically fell onto the bed together.

Yu Wen lay sprawled on the bed, feeling a little dizzy. Before he could fully regain his senses, Xie Heyu’s scorching body pressed down on him. Hugging him from behind, Xie Heyu kissed the flushed side of his neck while grinding against him. When the pressure intensified, Yu Wen couldn’t help but let out a sound.

That sound was particularly sultry.

Realizing this, Yu Wen’s face turned red, spreading down to his neck, and he awkwardly buried his face in the blanket.

Xie Heyu pinched his chin, pulling him out to make him turn his head for another kiss.

The position wasn’t very comfortable. Without a point of leverage, Yu Wen’s breathing became erratic, and the kiss turned messy. Soon, his lips were wet and sticky. He didn’t like it—it felt unhygienic—so he tried to pull away.

Xie Heyu let him go.

But just as his lips were freed, other areas began to suffer.

Xie Heyu’s lips lingered on his shoulder blades for some inexplicable reason. At first, Yu Wen felt ticklish, but soon he started trembling. The problem was, every time he shivered, he ended up leaning further into Xie Heyu’s hands.

Unable to take it anymore, Yu Wen blurted out, “It’s uncomfortable, don’t be so slow…”

Xie Heyu briefly pulled away and retrieved something thin.

Taking advantage of the moment when Yu Wen still had the clarity to think, Xie Heyu kissed him tenderly for a while and returned to the unfinished topic from earlier.

Leaning close to Yu Wen’s ear, he whispered, “I didn’t intentionally keep it from you. I just didn’t want to bring it up…”

Call it cowardice or call it selfishness.

He had deliberately avoided mentioning anything related to Yu Wen’s origins, as if not talking about it would make Yu Wen forget the matter altogether.

Yu Wen’s gaze was slightly unfocused. Whether he would remember this conversation afterward was unclear. Panting, he asked, “Why…”

Xie Heyu was silent for a moment.

Then he said, “I’m afraid you’ll leave one day.”

Yu Wen’s mind felt foggy.

For now, he couldn’t process the deeper meaning behind those words. Clinging to Xie Heyu like an innocent, unknowing parasitic plant, he absorbed and depended on him.

Until a certain moment, when Xie Heyu held his waist tightly—both fiercely, as if he wanted to tear him apart, and tenderly, as if he couldn’t bear to hurt him—while leaning in to kiss his lips…

Yu Wen suddenly recalled those words.

Those deeply insecure words.