Lin Zhexia: “Nothing, just suddenly remembered that you were quite annoying when you were little.”
He Yang: “???”
He Yang: “That was so many years ago, why do you still remember it?”
Lin Zhexia wanted to say it was because Chi Yao had gone to the infirmary, but she didn’t say that. Instead, she only said: “I just remember. I’m petty like that. Occasionally, when I remember, I still want to hit you.”
He Yang: “Are you sick?!”
Their friendship with He Yang hadn’t developed through any particularly special event.
As they fought and grew year by year, many childish memories from the past were silently reconciled with time.
Their parents knew each other and were neighbors.
He Yang’s mother was very cheerful and often had He Yang deliver things to them.
Initially, He Yang delivered things awkwardly—after all, they had fought before—and if not for his mother’s unbreakable orders, he wouldn’t have wanted to come.
He often left things at the doorstep and ran away immediately.
After numerous occurrences, Lin Zhexia occasionally exchanged a few words with him: “Why do you act like a thief?”
The chubby He Yang reddened his neck: “You’re the thief!”
Lin Zhexia: “Then next time, knock on the door when you come. You should knock on Chi Yao’s door too.”
Chubby He Yang: “…”
Lin Zhexia: “Then say ‘hello, this is for you.'”
Chubby He Yang: “Why should I say anything to him?”
Lin Zhexia: “Then you’re acting like a thief.”
Chubby He Yang: “I am not!”
Lin Zhexia: “Then go say it!”
So, besides Lin Zhexia, Chi Yao’s door gained another knocker.
The first time He Yang spoke to Chi Yao, he was holding a basket of oranges: “Y-you… hello, I’m not a thief. My mom asked me to give these to you. Homegrown oranges from the countryside. T-take them or leave them.”
At the time, he thought Chi Yao wouldn’t give him a pleasant look.
But that sickly boy said, “Thank you.”
Prompted by Lin Zhexia, He Yang recalled some childhood memories, including the former Chi Yao.
He looked toward the sofa. These days, Chi Yao’s hair had grown longer. He had one leg bent, holding a game console casually in his hand.
His “summer sister” peeked over wanting to play too, but had no idea how.
Lin Zhexia: “What game is this?”
Chi Yao: “King of Fighters.”
Lin Zhexia: “What does this button do? And that one? How do I punch? How come he can hit me no matter where I move?”
Chi Yao: “Dodge, press this.”
Chi Yao pointed to another button.
Lin Zhexia pressed it, and the character on the screen jumped.
Lin Zhexia: “Alright, I’ve got it. Watch me execute a combo. He’ll be dead in three moves.”
Watching them, He Yang thought that the current Chi Yao, apart from his slightly pale complexion, was hard to associate with the sickly boy from before.
Though the young man had a slim waist, through the thin fabric of his clothes, one could faintly glimpse the subtle contours beneath.
He Yang recalled that Chi Yao even had abs.
He couldn’t remember exactly when it was, but several years ago, he came to Chi Yao’s house to play games. For some reason, the door wasn’t locked that day. He pushed it open without warning and saw Chi Yao doing push-ups with his upper body bare. Sweat gathered along his jawline and dripped down.
At that time, Chi Yao wasn’t as tall as now, but he was already quite striking. His gaze moved from the young man’s lean waist, finally landing on those abdominal contours.
Seeing it was him, Chi Yao muttered “fuck” then said: “Close the door.”
He Yang dazedly closed the door.
When had it started?
He always remembered that before that day, something seemed to have happened.
But too much time had passed, and he really couldn’t recall.
The noisy sounds from inside quickly pulled He Yang back to the present.
His “summer sister” clearly hadn’t defeated her opponent in three moves and was making excuses: “I let him have a few moves just now. I wanted to give him a chance.”
Chi Yao: “Oh.”
Lin Zhexia: “I’m serious.”
Chi Yao: “Mm-hmm.”
Lin Zhexia: “You don’t believe me. You think I’m bad at this.”
Chi Yao: “Good that you know.”
He Yang: “…”
These two were still the same as always.