My Deskmate Chapter 39 (Part 2)
Translated by Q the Panda (ko-fi)
Chapter 39.2
Wen Xiao raised his hand, carefully placing the band-aid over the wound on Chi Ye’s cheekbone.
The band-aid was black, its diagonal shape enhancing the sharpness around his eye.
"There are only two kinds," Wen Xiao said. "One has a picture of Doraemon, and the other is just plain black."
Upon hearing Wen Xiao explain this, Chi Ye immediately sensed something was off. "It’s not just two kinds, is it? You deliberately picked the black one for me, didn’t you?"
Wen Xiao shot him a quick glance but didn’t respond.
He shoved the remaining band-aids into Chi Ye’s hand. "Go home, look in the mirror, and check if the wound’s still there. If it’s hard to apply the band-aid, you can come find me."
Chi Ye looked down at the band-aids in his hand, his lips pressing into a thin line. "The branch just scratched me..."
"Chi Ye," Wen Xiao interrupted him, his voice cool. "Do you really not know whether it was a tree branch or a blade?"
A hint of agitation flickered in his usually calm eyes.
Chi Ye tightened his fingers around the band-aid in his hand and changed his story. "I was doing two hours of sparring, and the opponent’s ring scratched me." Seeing Wen Xiao’s brows suddenly harden, Chi Ye added, in a tone meant to soothe, "It came straight for my eye. The guy’s heart was too dark. I won’t go back again."
He thought to himself that over the past ten or twenty years, he’d probably only used that tone to coax Yaya — but he knew better than to say that out loud to Wen Xiao. It would blow up in his face.
The wound, which had no sensation before, now tingled with a strange mix of pain and itch, as if the attention from one person had somehow awakened it. Chi Ye couldn’t help but reach up and touch the rough surface of the band-aid.
Wen Xiao didn’t seem ready to drop the topic. "So you really won’t go back?"
"Really won’t. An engineering team I’m working with ran into some trouble. They got a batch of foreign goods but couldn't understand the manual, and the supplier didn't provide a translated version. The online translations were off, and professional translation was too expensive. They were stuck, so I stepped in and took the job, charging them 80% of the market rate."
"Is it hard?"
Chi Ye’s tone was light. "The professional terms need some looking up, but other than that, it’s fine."
Wen Xiao quickly responded, "Your English is really good."
Chi Ye’s step faltered, and he muttered under his breath, “Damn...” Could his persona of scoring only sixty points still hold up?
Realizing that the conversation couldn’t continue in this direction, Chi Ye changed the subject. "Speaking of which, how did you learn to fight?"
Wen Xiao: "I had a teacher, took extracurricular classes for taekwondo and mixed martial arts."
Chi Ye’s thoughts wandered, and for some reason, he imagined Wen Xiao as a child, wearing a white taekwondo uniform.
It was kind of cute.
"My younger sister’s name was Wen Sheng. She was quiet and didn’t talk much. I worried she might get bullied in the future, so I learned. If something happened, I could protect her."
When he mentioned his sister, Wen Xiao’s tone softened considerably.
"I’m not like you. You’re a professional, I’m self-taught." Chi Ye smiled, but his steps were uneven as he walked, his movements lacking direction. "After my dad was gone, my mom raised me and Yaya. It wasn’t easy. Especially in the beginning, my mom was really beautiful and not the type to be tough, so there were always these shady types, their heads full of dirty thoughts."
The mention of this seemed to stir up some unpleasant memories for Chi Ye. His gaze turned cold, and the final words came out with a hint of unmistakable bitterness.
"Later on, anyone who dared to look at my mom the wrong way, I made sure they tasted blood. If anyone laid a hand on her, I’d break their bones. It was all about who was more ruthless. Before long, anyone who saw my mom would just walk the other way."
Taking a deep breath of the cool spring night air, Chi Ye stared ahead at the endless line of streetlights, his voice lowering as if speaking to no one in particular. "See, it’s all about bullying the weak and fearing the strong. That’s human nature."
The walk wasn’t long, and soon they arrived at Wen Xiao’s building.
Chi Ye masked the rare emotions he had let slip, his smile returning to its usual mischievous edge. "Goodnight, deskmate."
"Mm," Wen Xiao said, noticing the exhaustion that Chi Ye was trying hard to hide. "Don't stay up too late."
Chi Ye absentmindedly touched the band-aid beneath his eye, his grin growing even more roguish. "Speaking of staying up late, aren't we both guilty of that?"
Wen Xiao suddenly realized he didn’t have much ground to stand on to make that remark.
When Chi Ye got home, Yaya had already washed up and tucked herself into bed. The soft nightlight in her room cast a gentle glow. She was hugging a doll in her arms, her breathing steady and calm.
After tucking the blanket back around his sister, Chi Ye stood by her bed for a moment, watching her sleep before quietly leaving the room.
Back in his own room, Chi Ye flipped open a notebook. It was filled with various dates and numbers, recording income and expenses for different projects. He knew all of this by heart, but still, he carefully wrote each item down, ensuring there were no mistakes or omissions.
In two days, he had to visit the hospital again. The advance payment was nearly depleted, and another installment was due. It was wiser to pay a larger amount upfront since the intensive care unit costs were steep and drained funds rapidly. The last thing he wanted was to show up at the hospital one day only to find his account empty.
Yaya had a school performance during the Labor Day holiday. She was the host and would need a pretty dress to wear on stage. Spring was almost over, and most of her spring and summer clothes were too small. He planned to take her out on the weekend to buy two new outfits and a pair of small leather shoes to match the dress — he'd seen other parents in Yaya's class dress their daughters this way.
After going over the numbers in his mind, Chi Ye felt reassured. Out of habit, he spun the pen he was holding a few times. Suddenly, he thought of how beautiful Wen Xiao's fingers looked when he spun his pen.
He snapped out of his daze and realized it was already past 10 and nearly 11. If he didn't start translating, he would definitely be up all night. He grabbed a few sheets of A4 paper, picked up a pencil, and prepared to begin.
He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been thinking about Wen Xiao’s fingers turning the pen, but he found himself unable to resist glancing toward the window across the room. The light spilling through wasn’t very bright — only the desk lamp was on. He vaguely saw someone stand up from the window and pace around the room, then—
Squinting slightly, Chi Ye realized that, judging by the movements, Wen Xiao was... changing clothes?
The realization hit him sharply. The pen he had been twirling fell with a soft "thud" onto the desk. A rush of heat surged through his chest, like a torch had suddenly been lit, its flames searing his throat with an unexpected itch.
F*ck.
After eating a bowl of fried noodles as a late-night snack, Wen Xiao returned to his bedroom and switched on the desk lamp. He set his bag on the chair and turned to the closet, pulling out a clean T-shirt.
Just as he was taking off his shirt, his phone, which had been resting on the desk, buzzed.
Gripping the T-shirt in one hand, Wen Xiao unlocked his phone and answered the video call from Chi Ye.
He set the phone upright at a distance, facing the camera, and asked, "What's up?"
After asking the question, he spread out the T-shirt he was holding, straightened it, and put it on.
He didn’t wait for Chi Ye’s response. Leaning closer to the camera, his left hand resting on the edge of the desk, he asked again, "What’s going on?"
On the other end, Chi Ye stared at the fine lines of Wen Xiao’s features through the screen, unsure of how to explain why he had called just a minute ago.
His voice was hoarse as he stammered out an awkward excuse, "I... I pressed the wrong button."