My Deskmate Chapter 25
Translated by Q the Panda (ko-fi)
Chapter 25
Zhao Yiyang returned from the bathroom and saw Wen Xiao tapping away on his phone. He quickly took two steps to stand behind Wen Xiao — this blocking position had been practiced since their first year of high school, specifically to prevent Old Xu and Cheng Xiaoning from "covertly peeking."
After confirming that Old Xu would not be able to catch Wen Xiao in the act even if he suddenly teleported at the back door the next second, Zhao Yiyang sighed. “Thankfully, high school only lasts three years. Any longer, and my psychological shadow would cover the entire sports field. Imagine, every time you're playing games on your phone, you’re constantly paranoid about someone watching from behind. How the hell are you supposed to enjoy the game like that?”
As he spoke, he glanced down without meaning to, and accidentally caught sight of Wen Xiao's phone screen.
“Holy shit! Wen Xiao, are you planning to challenge Chi-ge to a fight? And not just one fight but two?!” His voice, full of shock, was anything but quiet. It cut through the classroom like a knife, drawing everyone’s attention.
Realizing his mistake, Zhao Yiyang slapped his hand over his mouth. Then, with lightning speed, he plastered on a wide grin. “Just kidding! Just kidding! Haha, as if Wen Xiao would challenge Chi-ge to a fight. They’re meeting for two rounds of barbecue, obviously!”
Only after the surrounding stares shifted away did Zhao Yiyang drag his chair over and sit down. Leaning in close, he lowered his voice, speaking in a panicked rush. “Damn, damn, damn! What’s going on? I thought the world was at peace. Why the hell are you guys suddenly setting up a fight?”
On the screen, Chi Ye’s message popped up in the WeChat chatbox:
“Is this some special privilege for a deskmate? Tonight then, see you when you’re back?”
Wen Xiao calmly tapped out a reply. Just a single word:
“Sure.”
He then turned to Zhao Yiyang and said, “It's not like that.”
Not like that? Zhao Yiyang blinked, and the first phrase that popped into his head was — fairy fight! (T/N: fairy fight — it's a buzzword which originated from the novel Dream of the Red Chamber, where a character found a handkerchief embroidered with two people engaged in papapa. Being young and naive, and somewhat foolish, she innocently thought that it depicted two fairies fighting.)
Oh, f*ck. Brain, stop. Just stop!
Stepping off Bus 117, Wen Xiao spotted Chi Ye immediately.
A beauty product advertisement was displayed on the bus shelter's digital screen, its colorful design spreading out like sunflowers. Chi Ye, standing lazily in front of it, was dressed in a light-colored hoodie and loose black cargo pants. The glow of the screen cast soft light on his face, accentuating his sharp and clean-cut features.
It was already 10 PM. Most buses had stopped running, and the station was deserted. Wen Xiao stepped onto the curb and asked, “Why are you waiting here?”
Chi Ye greeted him with a smile. “Weren’t we meeting for a fight? Delivering myself to you is the only way to show I'm serious.”
Wen Xiao ignored the phrase “delivering myself” and adjusted the strap of his black backpack. “Did something happen?”
Chi Ye glanced at him, his gaze eventually falling to the shadow of a tree on the dark pavement. The smile faded from his face. “Yeah, it’s about Yaya. I'm a little worried, but I'm also afraid that I'm just being paranoid.”
His steps slowed, and the line of his lips tightened. After a moment, he continued, “My mom... she got another critical notice today. I just got back from signing the papers at the hospital.” He tried to keep his tone casual, but the heaviness in his voice was impossible to disguise. “I guess some things are really impossible to get used to, like signing those papers. I've signed them dozens of times, but it still doesn’t feel any easier. Sometimes I even mess up the strokes of my own name.”
Chi Ye's fingers, which were stuffed in his pockets, twitched unconsciously, as if he could still feel the heavy pen in his hand.
Wen Xiao wasn’t good at comforting people, and honestly, he didn’t believe that one could truly understand someone else's pain. In the past, many people had said to him with sympathetic eyes, “Try to let it go. Things will pass eventually.”
But would they really?
Some things were impossible to move past.
Even when a wound scars over, it never truly heals. The scar only thickens and deepens over time, until one day, one finally gets used to its existence.
When Wen Xiao didn’t respond, Chi Ye strangely felt relieved.
There were some things that couldn't be said to anyone. Yaya was too young to understand what death really meant. Only around Wen Xiao could Chi Ye allow himself a few moments to breathe.
They walked along the worn street curb until they reached the basketball court. The court was empty, devoid of a single soul. The shadows of streetlights stretched across the concrete, adding to the chilly silence.
Wen Xiao slipped his backpack off his shoulder, holding it by the strap before tossing it to the ground. “Ready?”
The loose hem of his school jacket fluttered in the night breeze, revealing his tall and lean figure.
Chi Ye, who had been leaning against the fence with his usual air of laziness, straightened up instinctively. “We’re really doing this?”
Wen Xiao tilted his head. “Don't want to?”
“I never said no.” Chi Ye increasingly discovered that his deskmate was a textbook science student — no flowery emotions or unnecessary sentimentality. Got a problem? Solve it. Feeling down? Fight it out. If one fight didn’t work, go for two.
Chi Ye interlocked his fingers and gave his wrists a quick stretch.
Wen Xiao took off his glasses. Feeling restricted by his school uniform, he pulled down the zipper with one hand, revealing a loose black long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. The shirt hung loosely on his slim frame, emphasizing his lean build and the sharp, striking line of his neck.
Chi Ye’s gaze inevitably drifted to Wen Xiao’s waist — his deskmate's appearance was really quite deceiving.
There was no need for extra words. Standing close as they were, Wen Xiao didn’t waste a second. His long fingers clenched into a fist as his left hand shot forward in a sharp, direct punch aimed straight at Chi Ye’s head.
The punch cut through the air with force. Chi Ye sidestepped quickly and countered by grabbing Wen Xiao’s incoming left hand in an iron grip. “Tsk, you don’t hold back, do you?”
At this proximity, Chi Ye could make out the piercing sharpness in Wen Xiao’s eyes and the small mole just beneath the corner of his eye.
“Talk less,” Wen Xiao said curtly. Taking advantage of Chi Ye’s split-second distraction, he drove his free hand into a precise nerve point on Chi Ye’s arm. The sudden jolt caused Chi Ye’s grip to loosen, allowing Wen Xiao to twist free. In one smooth motion, Wen Xiao dipped low, raising his right elbow and slamming it toward the back of Chi Ye’s neck with force.
Wen Xiao's counterattack was so quick that Chi Ye was caught off guard and was knocked off balance.
The blow left him momentarily dizzy, and the restlessness that had been building up in his heart was aroused, making his eyes flash with anger.
Steadying himself with two quick steps forward, Chi Ye acted purely on instinct. Moving to Wen Xiao’s side, he hooked an arm around his neck, pressing downward while simultaneously using his right knee to press against Wen Xiao's waist, forcing him to the ground in two moves.
In less than two minutes, Chi Ye had secured Wen Xiao’s wrists above his head, using his legs to hold him down and stop him from struggling. “Let’s make a deal. Next time—”
The dim light from the streetlamp cast a faint, yellowish glow over the scene. Wen Xiao was pinned against the concrete, his face was pale, his eyes were as dark as lacquer, his lips were tightly pressed together. He looked calm, yet unyielding.
For some reason, Chi Ye faltered mid-sentence. His grip loosened slightly without him even realizing it.
In that split second, Wen Xiao seized the moment. Twisting Chi Ye’s hand with a sharp motion, he reversed the situation in an instant. His gaze turned even sharper, his voice clear yet slightly hoarse as he spoke. “Chi Ye, fight me, don't daydream.”
By the time their scuffle ended, both of them were sprawled on the concrete, too exhausted to move.
Chi Ye’s cheekbone burned where Wen Xiao’s fist had grazed it. He grabbed his deskmate’s wrist and held it up to inspect. “Thin and fragile. Nine out of ten people who see you would think you’re some sickly weakling.”
Wen Xiao let him hold his wrist without resisting and offered a brief explanation. “I was sick for a year. I couldn’t eat much, so I lost a lot of weight.”
Chi Ye didn't ask what kind of illness it was that had made him unable to eat much for a whole year. Circling Wen Xiao's wrist with his thumb and index finger, he said, “In two more years, even Yaya's wrist will be thicker than yours.”
Wen Xiao glanced at him and pulled his hand back.
“Not happy with the comparison?” Chi Ye teased, his tone laced with laughter. Tilting his head back, he stared at the starless sky. “Should’ve brought a pillow. Lying on concrete makes the back of my head hurt.”
Without a word, Wen Xiao reached over, grabbed his backpack by the strap, and shoved it under Chi Ye’s head.
Chi Ye didn’t refuse. Adjusting his position, he lay back comfortably.
“I can’t recall the exact context, but I remember him saying, ‘In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.’”
Wen Xiao: “Camus?”
Chi Ye’s expression softened, and he nodded. “Yeah, Camus wrote that.” He stood, turned around, and extended a hand to Wen Xiao. “Let's go?”
Wen Xiao placed his hand in Chi Ye’s, using the support to stand up. He slung his school jacket over his shoulder. “One fight is enough for you?”
“You wanna go a few more rounds? Do you have any idea how fast the neighbors will call the cops if they catch us fighting out here?” Chi Ye tilted his head with a laugh, then grabbed Wen Xiao’s backpack from where it had been tossed aside. “Don’t you have homework to do tonight? It’s almost eleven. Time to head home.”
Walking empty-handed behind Chi Ye, Wen Xiao watched his deskmate’s back, his thoughts drifting to an unexpected phrase — he carries the sun within him.
Later, after a shower, Wen Xiao returned to his bedroom, pulled out his chair, and flexed his fingers before picking up his pen to resume his homework.
“...A particle with a mass of m and charge of q (q > 0) enters the second quadrant perpendicularly to the x-axis, and then—” He paused, lifting his head to glance out the window at the building across the street.
All was quiet, yet he couldn't shake a feeling of unease.
Gripping the pen in his hand, he forced himself to focus, lowered his gaze, and wrote down the answer to the multiple-choice question.