Lin Kai didn’t give Chen Huanyi the chance to say anything else. He told Chen Huanyi to wash his face and then took away his laptop.
“I have to make a trip back to the lab. You can use the computer on the right side of the study to write your thesis. Help yourself to anything you need. I’ll take care of gathering the evidence,” Lin Kai said. Then he left for campus.
Standing in front of the sink, Chen Huanyi dragged his hand down his face. He was furious—furious that he couldn’t shoot down Lin Kai’s words about a “life with no regrets” with a single sentence, furious that he was all the more clueless in the face of Lin Kai’s “it really isn’t fair.”
But as the words “shortcoming of trust” echoed in his head, he began to feel worse.
He had been hurt at first, but after being hurt so often lately, he seemed to have more or less gotten used to it. Eventually, he started to ponder the essence of those three words.
Chen Huanyi often gave the impression of being very smart in his studies. However, he hadn’t been born with a particularly remarkable brain. His intelligence was built on the study habits he’d cultivated since he was little. People like him didn’t have the most nimble minds, but they possessed one notable strength: as long as they had enough time to carefully analyze any problem they had faced, they would be able to solve it perfectly when they encountered it again.
Thus, when Chen Huanyi reconsidered Lin Kai’s “shortcoming of trust,” he grew convinced that he could’ve refuted him. When Lin Kai said “skills can be learned, but trust cannot,” he shouldn’t have felt attacked. Just as skills could be learned, trust could also be nurtured.
Trust never existed without a reason. A master and slave couldn’t be perfectly in sync from the very beginning—breaking in the relationship was an entire process. No one could trust their master completely after a single training session, no matter how perfect it was.
Plus, according to Lin Kai’s logic, if he didn’t believe that trust could be established between them, it meant that he didn’t trust Chen Huanyi either.
When Chen Huanyi came to this realization, rationally, he felt wholly relieved, but emotionally, he felt more frustrated than ever. It reminded him of the time in high school when his homeroom teacher took him aside and said, “Since your grades are good, your debating skills must be pretty decent too.” Then the teacher sent him to a debate tournament as the class representative. But at the tournament, his opponent’s arguments left his mind completely blank, and he couldn’t think of a single way to refute them. After he got home and sulked for a couple of days, a lightbulb suddenly went off in his head, and he spotted the flaw in his opponent’s logic. In that instant, he thought, so that’s the way it is. I found the counterargument, hah! But the tournament’s over. Fucking hell.
He silently resolved to sit Lin Kai down for a proper debate on the problem of establishing trust as soon as he got home.
Once Chen Huanyi reached this decision, his thoughts jumped back to Lin Kai’s “it really isn’t fair.” Addressing this felt like proving one plus one equals two from first principles.
The problem remained intractable no matter which angle Chen Huanyi considered it from. Out of options, he turned to his work. He switched on the computer at the desk and plugged in his external hard drive to do some reading. Whenever he downloaded new data to his laptop, he copied it over to this external hard drive. So when he clicked on a folder on the external hard drive and saw another folder named “Doctor K and Bachelor Y,” he knew that this did not bode well.
This folder was on his laptop too.
For the first time, Chen Huanyi wished from the bottom of his heart that this folder was empty. But of course, that was impossible. This external hard drive functioned just as it was designed to—it backed up everything on the computer he had given to Lin Kai.
This “Doctor K and Bachelor Y” folder contained subfolders named “Photos,” “Videos”... and “Project Plan.”
“Photos” and “Videos” contained what Doctor K had posted on the forum, as well as everything Chen Huanyi could find on the internet about Lin Kai—after all, he was a relatively well-known academic. The photo Chen Huanyi had snuck of the wall of honor was there too. These were all… well, they were pretty embarrassing, but not that embarrassing.
No, the crux of the matter was that document titled “How to Pursue a Like-Minded Degenerate” in the “Project Plan” folder. It was not only extremely embarrassing, but it also delivered his key strategies into the hands of the enemy! This was incredibly dangerous!
Five minutes later, he resolved to abandon his plan of gradually wearing down Professor Lin. From now on, he needed to be plucky and resourceful, ready to mount an ambush at a moment’s notice! While the enemy had his guard down, he needed to make the first move!
But Chen Huanyi, he lamented with a sigh, your enemy doesn’t want to fight you at all. He might not even allow you any room to fight.
At dusk, the doorbell rang.
Chen Huanyi strutted to the door, puffing out his chest at his own brilliance.
An hour earlier, Chen Huanyi had stroked his chin and considered his chances of cooking an edible meal. He weighed these against the likelihood that Lin-laoshi would feel moved by his effort despite the food being unfit for human consumption. At last, he slyly opened a food delivery app on his phone. He searched for nearby restaurants and ranked them from highest to lowest based on the ratings for taste, delivery time, and so on. This was his first time ordering such fancy take-out—he usually ordered from those “7 off of your 15 RMB order” sorts of places.
After his order was delivered right on time, Chen Huanyi looked at the containers. He imagined the refined Lin-laoshi, his glasses glinting coldly, touching the plastic containers and the disposable chopsticks covered in splinters with his beautiful, slender fingers… That would be utterly unacceptable.
Chen Huanyi went to the kitchen and found a set of plates. He transferred the take-out to several plates, just like he would place precious specimens into intricate instruments in the lab. He even used a napkin to wipe away some sauce that had accidentally splashed onto the rim of a plate.
Chen Huanyi was completely satisfied with his presentation of these dishes. Art—surely this was art.
When Chen Huanyi reached the entryway, he even flipped Lin Kai’s slippers around in a gesture of utmost tact. Finally, he opened the door. “Lin—”
His wide, starry eyes landed on the face of the person outside.
Chen Huanyi fell into a stunned silence.
The other person looked at him blankly.
“Sorry, but you are…?” Chen Huanyi asked.
“And you are…?” the visitor asked at the same time.
Chen Huanyi looked at the tall and handsome young man before him. I need to know who you are before I can tell you who I am, he thought. If you’re Lin Kai’s colleague or relative, then I’m merely his dutiful student. If you’re Lin Kai’s ex or M, then I’m his current and official boyfriend!
The visitor smiled. “I’m Lin Kai’s classmate. He’s not home?”
Hmph, a classmate—how tricky. The man’s position was ambiguous—he could be an ally to be won over or a love rival in hiding. “Ah, I’m Lin-laoshi’s student,” Chen Huanyi replied cautiously. “He’s still out.” Then he added, “I’m borrowing Lin-laoshi’s computer to write my thesis.”
The visitor nodded.
As Chen Huanyi continued to stare awkwardly, he realized this man had no intention of leaving. It seemed impolite not to invite him in, so Chen Huanyi said, “Um, is it anything urgent? Do you want to call Lin-laoshi? Or wait for him inside?”
The visitor completely ignored Chen Huanyi’s first two questions. “Sure, I’ll wait for him to come back.”
Chen Huanyi stepped to the side to let the other man in. When the visitor took off his shoes, Chen Huanyi instantly bent down and snatched up Lin Kai’s slippers. He reached into the wardrobe and took out a pair of new slippers.
The young man’s feet froze in mid-air for a couple of seconds before he put the slippers on. The tension in the air was palpable.
Chen Huanyi grinned. “Aiya, you see, Laoshi has athlete’s foot. I’d hate for you to get it too.”
The young man was at a complete loss. How come he didn’t know that Lin Kai had athlete’s foot?
Chen Huanyi’s expression turned somewhat shifty as he batted his eyes at the visitor. “Aiya, of course you wouldn’t know—Lin-laoshi’s very sensitive about face. You can’t tell anyone that I was the one who told you.”
He invited the young man to sit and then got him a cup of water from the kitchen.
The man took a seat on the sofa and looked around. Catching sight of the dishes on the kitchen table, he asked teasingly, “Students are in charge of cooking too?”
“Laoshi works so hard—naturally, as his student, I need to be very considerate,” said Chen Huanyi. That’s right—to someone like this, who could be either friend or foe, he needed to strike the right chord: My relationship with Lin-laoshi is very special indeed. I’m an integral part of both his work life and his personal life. But Lin-laoshi is nothing but prim and proper—you can’t speak ill of him without any evidence. Otherwise, I’ll sue you for libel.
The man nodded and lapsed into silence.
Chen Huanyi saw that the man didn’t intend to engage him in conversation. “Please make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’ll be working on my thesis.”
An hour later, Lin Kai returned with groceries in hand.
The moment he opened the door, he felt like he’d been transported a decade back in time. Dinner was on the table, and that person was waiting for him.
But of course he knew that was impossible.
“Chen Huanyi.”
Chen Huanyi had run out as soon as he heard the key in the lock. “Lin-laoshi, one of your classmates—”
Lin Kai didn’t ask Chen Huanyi why he was holding his slippers. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t let strangers into the house?” he asked lightly.
“He said that—” Chen Huanyi began.
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t believe what strangers say?” Lin Kai asked.
Chen Huanyi was speechless. Amid the indignation he felt at these unfounded accusations, why was there also a twinge of surprised delight?
Lin Kai put on his slippers and set down his bags before walking toward the sofa. “Long time no see, Zhen Xueji.”
Hearing Lin Kai’s reprimands, Zhen Xueji forced a humorless laugh. “Am I already a stranger to you?”
“Not to me. But to him, you are.”
Why am I suddenly annoyed? Chen Huanyi thought to himself.
“What brings you here?”
Zhen Xueji glanced sheepishly at Chen Huanyi standing off to the side. Chen Huanyi craned his neck, staring wide-eyed at the other two, his expression unreadable.
Lin Kai didn’t tell him to go back to the study.
Zhen Xueji had no choice but to continue. “I saw that you came back from abroad in another classmate’s WeChat moments. I asked around for your address. I’m in town for business, so I wanted to… see you as well.”
Chen Huanyi was immediately on edge. He’d read something once about how exes communicate. Whenever an ex said “see,” one could replace it with “fuck”—the two words were wholly interchangeable. If an ex said “I want to see you one last time,” what they meant to say was “I want to fuck you one last time.” If they said “I miss you so much—can I come and see you?”, they meant “I miss you(r body) so much—can I come and fuck you?”
Chen Huanyi found this Zhen Xueji character extremely suspicious.
“Oh,” said Lin Kai.
A critical hit.
“Are you going to the reunion next month?” Zhen Xueji asked, clumsily changing the topic.
“It’s been nine years since I’ve been back. I suppose I ought to go,” Lin Kai replied.
Zhen Xueji broke out into a smile. “Many of our classmates haven’t seen you in years. They’ll definitely be overjoyed to see you again.”
“Mm,” said Lin Kai.
“I ran into Lu-laoshi a few days ago,” said Zhen Xueji. “He mentioned you—he said it’s such a shame that you didn’t continue studying computer science… Why don’t we reach out to some of our old teachers and have a meal with them? Remember Wu Fu Zhai? That place used to be your favorite. It’s still around, and the dishes taste just like they used to.”
“Mm, let’s see,” Lin Kai replied.
Zhen Xueji finally ran out of things to say. “Well—I’ll be going then. Give me a call when you get into town. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“Mm.” Lin Kai opened the door.
Zhen Xueji didn’t move. “You haven’t asked for my number.”
Lin Kai didn’t respond.
Zhen Xueji’s eyes were soft and full of nostalgia. “Your memory’s always been perfect—of course you wouldn’t have forgotten. My number’s still the same as before. I’ve never changed it.”
As Zhen Xueji left, he gave Lin Kai a very meaningful look.
Chen Huanyi thought this look couldn’t have been any more flirtatious. Zhen Xueji looked like one of those spider demons in the silk caverns from Journey to the West—Chen Huanyi half-expected him to spit up a long thread of silk to ensnare Lin Kai and snatch him away.
Lin Kai didn’t appear to share these thoughts. After closing the door, he turned around and glanced at the food on the table. “Did you cook?”
Chen Huanyi didn’t dare deceive his Lin-laoshi. From now on, he needed to cultivate his trust. “Oh… I ordered take-out. I’m not good at cooking.”
Lin Kai nodded. “Go wash your hands. I’ll heat up the food.” Then he added, “Don’t eat too much take-out. It’s not good for you.”
Chen Huanyi obediently went to wash his hands. It wasn’t until he reached the bathroom that he processed what had just happened. That visitor acted like an ex trying to win back his expat old lover. However, Chen Huanyi thought that his Lin-laoshi deftly skirted the situation without giving the visitor any chance to question him or express his feelings.
In addition to the take-out, there was a new dish of romaine lettuce with minced garlic on the table. [1] The long lettuce leaves were neatly lined up on an oval plate, making for a lovely presentation.
Lin Kai was accustomed to being busy, but he also prioritized his quality of life. He was highly exacting and never one to compromise. He cooked for himself whenever he could, and he usually brought his lunch in a thermos and ate it in his office. After Zhang Chaoran had the good fortune to taste Lin Kai’s lunch, he swore that he’d never eat at the school cafeteria again. Lin Kai pointed out that he had another option—starving to death.
Upon seeing the lack of green in Chen Huanyi’s take-out, Lin Kai had gone into the kitchen and produced another dish.
Chen Huanyi tried a bite. His Lin-laoshi must have been judging his take-out so hard. Was this the true meaning of that saying—“a cook who doesn’t know S&M can’t be a good professor”? [2]
“How does it taste?” asked Lin Kai.
Chen Huanyi nodded. Zhen Xueji’s words—“Remember Wu Fu Zhai? That place used to be your favorite”—popped into his head again. Just how good did Wu Fu Zhai’s food taste to be Lin-laoshi’s favorite? Chen Huanyi couldn’t quell a vague sense of unease. He wanted to know out what was going on with Zhen Xueji and this Wu Fu Zhai establishment he was clearly in cahoots with (narrator: they weren’t).
A while later, Lin Kai said, “You wrote your literature overview on your own computer. I took a look and found the documentation already. Once I finish sorting it out, we’ll be able to wrap things up quickly. For a more persuasive case, it would be ideal if we can also obtain evidence that you gave these materials to Professor Shen, but it’ll be difficult to do so using lawful means. Therefore, we’ll probably have to stop at proving that you didn’t plagiarize. At most, Liu Bowei will be convicted of plagiarism. It won’t go further than that. The school and the academic affairs office have their own considerations. Without direct evidence, they can’t place the blame on Professor Shen.”
“Oh—” Chen Huanyi nodded.
“Are you disappointed?” asked Lin Kai.
“No,” replied Chen Huanyi. “It's just that if a student is suspected, it seems like they have to do everything in their power to prove their innocence. But if a professor is suspected, they…” Chen Hunayi didn’t finish the thought.
“That’s not the case. Professor Shen can’t take responsibility for his own student’s plagiarism,” Lin Kai pointed out. “For instance, if there were technical mistakes in your thesis that I missed when I edited it, that’s my fault. But let’s say you actually did plagiarize Liu Bowei’s literature overview, and I didn’t notice and let you pass. That’s not my fault. So if you want to prove that Professor Shen also participated in plagiarism, you need to show evidence that you gave him your materials. I could hack his computer, but then we would be obtaining this evidence illegally, which would invalidate it.”
Chen Huanyi hung his head. “Mm…”
Lin Kai didn’t continue.
Only the occasional clinks of china and sounds of chewing could be heard at the table.
After dinner, Chen Huanyi offered to do the dishes only to be told that there was a dishwasher. Yet another opportunity to be helpful had disappeared. His previous plan of attack was turning out to be truly fraught. He wanted to be good to Lin-laoshi, yet not only did Lin-laoshi find his take-out unhealthy, but it wasn’t even as tasty as his own cooking. He wanted to show off his character and skills to Lin-laoshi, yet Lin-laoshi only saw that he didn’t know how a liberated mode of production could bring out the best in humankind.
This doesn’t look good at all, Chen Huanyi. You have to catch him off guard and strike while the iron is hot—until Lin-laoshi is so disoriented that he’s falling head over heels in love.
Chen Huanyi was at a complete loss—his Lin-laoshi had already taken a seat at his desk and started reading. Chen Huanyi wondered if he should go back to his dorm. If he stayed longer, he might miss the last bus or get locked out by security.
He stood in the doorway of the study for a long time, certainly longer than necessary for his digestion alone. Lin Kai turned to look at him. “What are you standing there for?”
“Lin-laoshi, can I stay here?” Chen Huanyi, what are you saying? Weren’t you just about to say “Lin-laoshi, if there’s nothing else, I should go back to my dorm”?!
“Mm.” After a moment of careful consideration, Lin Kai responded very calmly. “I’ll give your computer back the day after tomorrow. You can stay here while you’re waiting for everything to be settled with the academic affairs office. People might give you trouble at school before the case is closed.”
Chen Huanyi felt like he was on a plane that had soared into the clouds.
“I stay up pretty late,” Lin Kai continued. “You can wash up first if you want to get some rest. The guest room is across the hall. All the towels, toiletries, underwear, and pajamas in the dresser are new. There’s bedding in the dresser too—you can make the bed yourself.”
The plane in the clouds ran into some turbulence.
Chen Huanyi’s joy at sleeping over at Lin-laoshi’s faded. What the hell was with this complete set of amenities? It seemed deliberately designed to make it as easy as possible for people to spend the night.
However, Chen Huanyi didn’t let his displeasure show on his face. He hesitated at the door for a while—he still wanted to discuss the topic he had pondered earlier in the day. But as he watched Lin Kai turn his attention back to his work, Chen Huanyi didn’t dare disturb him. He could only walk back to his own desk and start reading papers.
By eleven, Chen Huanyi was feeling drowsy. After all the ups and downs of the day, he was inevitably tired. Somehow, Lin Kai still showed no signs of wanting to rest. Chen Huanyi quietly stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
When he got out of the shower, the light in the study was still on. After a moment’s thought, he ran into the kitchen in an oversized pajama shirt, his slender legs bare, and heated up a cup of milk to bring to the study. As he walked in, he saw that Lin Kai had taken off his glasses. His fingers were pressed to his brow, and his face looked weary. There were two shallow marks on the straight bridge of his nose, and faint dark circles were visible below his eyes. Chen Huanyi had never seen Lin Kai like this before. He quietly set the milk down next to Lin Kai’s left hand, and then spontaneously reached over to rub Lin Kai’s temple.
It had been a very long day for Lin Kai. In the morning, he had gone straight from the conference to the airport. After getting off the plane, he rushed to the academic affairs office to bring Chen Huanyi home. Later in the afternoon, he needed to supervise some students in the lab, and he started going through the records on Chen Huanyi’s computer during his break. Then he drove back to his apartment and had to shoo away his ex. There were still several projects that he needed to wrap up tonight.
Lin Kai’s eyes were closed. Upon hearing movement nearby, he said in a soft voice, “You should get some sleep.”
Chen Huanyi’s heart swelled tenderly. “I’ll keep you company.” What he felt wasn’t a heartrending pain, but rather a subtle, tingling itch—like a stubborn old injury, it couldn’t break him in an instant, but it lingered always, loath to fade away.
[1] Yes, the lettuce is cooked. Probably something similar to this recipe.
[2] Tongue-in-cheek riff on the original saying, “A soldier who doesn’t want to be a general can’t be a good soldier.”