Ch 53: Text Messages Across Time

On that rainy night, Qin Weidong sat in his car. He had just been replying to a business partner’s message. Now, seeing the figure by the window looking over, even with glass and rain between them, he felt as if the other person could see him.

As if guided by something inexplicable, he went into the hotel lobby.

The moment he stepped inside, he regretted it and turned to leave.

“Qin Weidong.”

At that moment, Lin Wu had just stepped out of the elevator and called out to him.

“Lin Wu? I didn’t expect to run into you here. What a surprise.” Qin Weidong paused, then turned around like an old friend reunited.

“It is a surprise.” Lin Wu looked at him. Today he wore a dark gray coat, with a black suit underneath and a matching layered vest. He was still the same Qin Weidong from six hours ago, only more composed and restrained.

“It’s been twenty years since we last met. What have you been doing all these years?” Qin Weidong asked casually, as one would with an old acquaintance.

“I’ve been working in physics,” Lin Wu replied.

“Physics is good. Even back when we first met, I thought you were smart. Looks like you’ve found the right path.”

“And you?” Lin Wu asked.

“I’ve been doing well. I went abroad for a few years, then came back to start a company. Both my career and life are going pretty well now.”

“That’s good.”

“Mm.”

They had once had endless things to say in high school. Now, it felt like there was nothing left to say.

“I was just about to…” Qin Weidong began, trying to find an excuse to leave.

Before he could finish, Lin Wu said, “It’s cold tonight. I have hot water in my room. Would you like some coffee?”

“Coffee…” Qin Weidong had intended to refuse, but then he noticed the faint dark circles under Lin Wu’s eyes. He had always thought Lin Wu looked pale and good-looking. Now, the paleness only made his exhaustion more obvious.

“…Alright.”

The refusal turned into acceptance.

Half a minute later, they entered Lin Wu’s room.

The hotel was mid-to-high end. The room was spacious, with a desk, chair, tea table, and sofa.

“You can hang your coat there,” Lin Wu said as he walked toward the kettle.

“Okay.” Qin Weidong hung up his coat, glanced around, then sat on the sofa. Though Lin Wu lived alone, the room was spotless. Aside from a few documents on the desk, there was no sign of clutter.

“There’s oat latte, flat white, and milk. What do you want?” Lin Wu placed the kettle down, washed two glass cups, and asked.

He didn’t like using hotel items, so both the kettle and cups were bought from the downstairs supermarket. The cups came in a set of four. The one he handed Qin Weidong was unused.

“Oat latte,” Qin Weidong said. He was used to drinking coffee at night from years of working late.

“Okay.”

The coffee was instant packets from the hotel. Making coffee in glass cups looked a little odd, but neither of them commented on it.

Soon, both cups were ready.

“Thanks.” Qin Weidong accepted the cup, then glanced at the desk. Besides the computer and documents, there were two phones. One smartphone, and one old black keypad phone.

“Why are you using such an old phone?” he asked casually.

“A backup. It’s comfortable to use,” Lin Wu replied lightly.

“Mm. Can I take a look?”

“Sure.” Lin Wu handed it over.

Qin Weidong had only intended a casual glance. But when he saw the screen, he frowned.

“What’s this?”

The phone displayed only a black-and-white clock icon, with the words “Updating” beneath it. No other menus could be accessed. The progress bar read 0.32%.

“It started updating half an hour ago,” Lin Wu said after a brief pause. Half an hour earlier, after the new memories appeared, he had tried to contact 2004—only to find the phone locked in this state.

“Half an hour… 0.32%…” Qin Weidong did a quick calculation, keeping his tone relaxed. “At this rate, it’ll take about five days. Maybe sooner if it speeds up. Could even be done tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Lin Wu nodded after a slight pause.

In this ending, after Luo Xiaorong’s death, they had no contact. Now, aside from polite greetings, they had nothing else to say.

Ten minutes later, Qin Weidong finished his coffee and stood to leave.

Outside, rain poured heavily.

Lin Wu suddenly remembered the first night Qin Weidong had stayed at his place—

“You go back first. I’ll head over myself.”
That night too, the rain had been pouring. Qin Weidong had stayed late, then tested the rain at the stairwell before saying it.

“Are there still cars outside?” Lin Wu had asked.

“There are. Don’t worry about it.”

“The rain’s too heavy. Come back with me.”

He no longer remembered why he had asked Qin Weidong to stay that night. Only that their neighborhood was remote, and at that hour there might not be any taxis. Qin Weidong had helped him—he couldn’t just let him leave in the rain.

Back then, he had said, “Come back with me.”

Now, he couldn’t say those same words anymore.

“Where are you going after this?” Lin Wu asked as he walked him to the door.

“My place is nearby. I’ll head back.”

“Be careful on the way.”

“I will.” Qin Weidong smiled, then added, returning to the past, “I was young and didn’t know better back then. All that is in the past. Don’t think too much about it. I’m really sorry for what happened before.”

He meant the trouble he had caused Lin Wu.

“It’s fine. It’s all in the past.” Lin Wu gestured for him not to dwell on it.

“If I hadn’t run into you this time, I probably wouldn’t have remembered any of it. Still… running into an old friend is nice.”

“Mm. I feel the same.”

Qin Weidong left.

Lin Wu stood by the window, watching him drive away.

Then suddenly, a thought came to him—

This was Qin Weidong’s hotel.

If anyone should be leaving, it should be him.

It was raining in 2024. It was raining in 2004 too.

“Why is it raining…” Qin Weidong stood at the entrance of the bathhouse in the steel factory residential compound, staring gloomily at the weather outside.

An hour earlier, he had walked Lin Wu back to the building entrance and, by chance, found out Lin Wu was planning to go to the bathhouse.

“Our school showers are too cold. It’s only nine, so I’ll just use yours here. It’s nice and hot.” The school facilities weren’t as comfortable as the bathhouse. He had used the one in Lin Wu’s neighborhood a few times and liked it.

“The weather’s not great. It might rain later,” Lin Wu had paused after hearing that.

“It’s fine. Probably won’t rain.” Qin Weidong had glanced up at the sky, unconcerned.

The bathhouse sold basic necessities. After returning to Lin Wu’s place, he left his wallet and phone there and brought only some loose change.

It was crowded that day. When he got his key and was about to open his locker, it suddenly struck him—

He had really only come here to bathe.

But because of his feelings toward Lin Wu, bathing together in this situation felt… inappropriate.

“Uh… I’ll go check if there’s a VIP room,” Qin Weidong said, a little uneasy.

“Mm. You’re locker 32. I’m 295. I’ll head in first.” Lin Wu carried his basket and left.

There were five changing areas. Locker 32 was in section one, 295 in section five.

Watching Lin Wu walk away, Qin Weidong suddenly remembered—

When the attendant had given them their numbers earlier, he had gone to buy something. And it seemed Lin Wu had quietly switched his locker number with the attendant.

He scratched his head, unsure if he had imagined it.

…

An hour later, they both finished bathing.

Lin Wu stayed in the main hall. Qin Weidong stayed in the VIP area. One was avoiding, the other never went toward the VIP section. They didn’t run into each other at all.

They came out one after the other.

“Let’s buy an umbrella,” Lin Wu suggested. The rain was now pouring heavily. The bathhouse sold umbrellas, and having just bathed, it wasn’t a good idea to run out into the rain.

“Okay.”

They bought a large umbrella and ran together back to Lin Wu’s building.

“I’ll head back now.” Qin Weidong picked up his phone and wallet, standing downstairs, reluctant to leave.

It wasn’t that he wanted to stay.

He just didn’t want to leave Lin Wu.

Today had felt too good.

And even if Lin Wu asked him to stay… with his current thoughts, he wouldn’t dare.

“It’s cold today. I’ll just make a run for it,” he said, gauging the rain.

“Qin Weidong…”

Lin Wu looked at the scene before him, as if returning to two months ago—the first night Qin Weidong had stayed over.

“Hm?” Qin Weidong turned, puzzled.

“The rain’s too heavy. Stay at my place tonight.”

The same words.

Lin Wu said them again.

“Oh—okay. Okay.” Qin Weidong had just been thinking he wouldn’t dare stay, but the moment Lin Wu said it, all his thoughts scattered. He didn’t want to leave.

“Dong Dong—” Luo Xiaorong was delighted to see him come back again and handed him a fruit candy.

“Thank you, Auntie.” Qin Weidong accepted it gratefully.

He organized his bathing items, brushed his teeth, and returned to the bedroom.

“You take the inside. I’ll sleep on the outside.” Lin Wu made the bed, then brought in an extra blanket from Luo Xiaorong’s room. In winter, they usually used two blankets. This one was large enough to cover both of them.

“Still studying tonight?” Qin Weidong asked as he climbed onto the bed.

“No. It’s Sunday. Let’s take a break.” Lin Wu smiled faintly. He didn’t study twenty-four hours a day.

They chatted for a while. Then Qin Weidong noticed something and suddenly froze.

“I didn’t bring sheets or a quilt cover…”

He usually didn’t wear clothes when sleeping. Before, he would use his own bedding here. Now he had neither his own sheets nor pajamas.

He felt awkward.

Not because he minded Lin Wu’s bedding.

But because he worried Lin Wu might mind him using it.

“I washed these sheets recently. They’re clean. If you don’t mind, you can just take them. In case you stay over again in the future, you’ll have something to use.”

Lin Wu understood immediately.

When making the bed, he had laid down two sheets side by side. The quilt cover had also been freshly washed.

“I don’t mind! Not at all.”

Qin Weidong felt like fireworks were going off in his head.

He only heard the last part—

“In case you stay over again in the future.”

He felt like he could stay again tomorrow.

“Anything else you need to grab? If not, I’m turning off the lights.” Ten minutes later, Lin Wu sat at the edge of the bed and asked. They had an unspoken routine. When Qin Weidong was outside, Lin Wu would change into his sleepwear. When Lin Wu stepped out, Qin Weidong would slip under the covers after taking off his clothes.

“Nothing else. Go ahead and turn them off.” Qin Weidong had already gotten into bed.

“Alright.” Lin Wu switched off the light. The room fell into darkness.

“Are you sleepy?” It was 11:10. Qin Weidong couldn’t fall asleep.

“Not really.” Maybe because he had just showered, Lin Wu still felt alert.

“Want to chat for a bit?”

“Sure.”

They said they’d chat, but mostly Qin Weidong talked while Lin Wu listened. He spoke about whatever came to mind. Fights in middle school, the first time he played billiards, how good the wontons near the school gate were, some guy from the next dorm always coming over talking about playing music for them…

“You played for them?” Lin Wu suddenly asked when he heard about the dorm story.

“Huh?” Qin Weidong didn’t catch it.

“The instrument you mentioned,” Lin Wu clarified.

“No, I didn’t play for anyone.”

“Did someone play for you?”

“No.”

Qin Weidong hadn’t meant anything by bringing it up. There was just a guy from the next dorm who kept coming over, talking nonsense and saying he’d perform for them. Everyone found him annoying. Qin Weidong had only mentioned it in passing.

“Never mind. Go on,” Lin Wu said.

“Oh…” After being interrupted, Qin Weidong didn’t know what to say next. He glanced toward Lin Wu.

Lin Wu was lying flat. The darkness wasn’t absolute. Qin Weidong could make out the faint outline of his profile.

It reminded him of the movie theater that afternoon.

A sudden heat rushed to his head.

“Lin Wu… I’ll play something for you.”

The atmosphere went quiet.

Only after saying it did Qin Weidong realize what he had just said.

“Uh…” His mind went blank. Just as he was scrambling for a way to recover, he heard Lin Wu ask:

“How would you play?”

How would you play.

Just four simple words.

Qin Weidong felt his heart slam once, then start racing harder. He turned onto his side, facing Lin Wu, and tentatively slipped his hand beneath the covers.

“Something like this…”

“Mm.” Lin Wu didn’t refuse.

They were lying close. Qin Weidong’s hand brushed against the edge of Lin Wu’s clothes.

He gently pushed the fabric upward and felt his abdomen. Lean, firm.

No words needed.

“Lin Wu…” Qin Weidong’s voice had already gone hoarse.

“Mm?” Lin Wu responded softly.

“I want to see your hand.”

“How?”

“Like earlier… this afternoon.”

He wasn’t sure Lin Wu would agree.

Three seconds later, Lin Wu extended his hand from under the blanket, a long, slender finger following.

Qin Weidong took it, covering Lin Wu’s hand with his own, and gently drew it closer.

The movement was the same as in the movie theater, and yet not quite the same.

His heart felt like it was burning.

The world dissolved into pure darkness. In that darkness, he became a pianist, playing the most fervent, unrestrained rhapsody.

Everything stirred to life.

On that dark ground, Lin Wu lay still, eyes closed. Qin Weidong, emboldened, kept watching his face.

No one knew how much time passed.

In the night, something brilliant burst open like fireworks.

Qin Weidong reached to the bedside, found a roll of tissues, and wiped his hands. Lin Wu didn’t want to get up. Under the blanket, he quietly removed his soiled pants, tossed them into the laundry basket by the bed, and fumbled out a clean pair to put on.

All of it happened in the dark.

After the fireworks, the rain still poured outside. Inside the room, there was only the sound of their breathing.

“Do you need to wash up?” Lin Wu asked quietly. He meant Qin Weidong’s hand.

“No.” Qin Weidong had already wiped it clean.

They didn’t speak again.

Whether they had fallen asleep or not, no one could tell.

After a long while, Lin Wu asked, “Will you do this with anyone else?”

He meant what had just happened.

“No. Only you.” Qin Weidong answered without hesitation.

At the same time, he slipped his hand back under Lin Wu’s blanket.

This time, he didn’t ask.

He only carefully took hold of Lin Wu’s hand.

Lin Wu didn’t pull away.

Outside, thunder rolled and lightning split the sky.

In the darkness, something like green shoots quietly began to grow between two hearts.

✧˖°.──⋆⭒˚.⋆💌⋆⭒˚.⋆──✧˖°.

Thandar: Hand jobbbbbb ahhhhh. Anyway, I thought Lin Wu already said our ML was disgusting but turned out that hadn’t happen yet. I’m trying hard to keep up coz the story is so good 🥲