Chapter 52: The Fox Man

Because of the distance and the dim evening light, he couldn't quite see Song Jingbai's expression, but he could clearly feel that the other's gaze was fixed entirely on him.

That look felt even heavier and more clinging than the scent of flowers and fruit wine drifting through the air.

Wen Xiao suddenly felt his hand being tightly grasped, snapping him back to reality. He turned his head slightly to look at Wei Nanxing. "What is it?"

Wei Nanxing was a fraction taller than Wen Xiao. As he lowered his head slightly, he leaned in close to Wen Xiao's face, his dark, bottomless eyes peering out from between his tousled bangs.

He stared straight into Wen Xiao's eyes until he could clearly see his own reflection mirrored within them.

"Xiaoxiao, you said you would never leave me. Is that true?"

Wei Nanxing's voice was very soft, but the light flickering in his eyes resembled falling stars, making Wen Xiao feel that he had better not answer in the negative.

Wei Nanxing loved asking this question, repeating it over and over again, as if trying to secure a sense of safety through sheer repetition.

Like a cornered beast.

Wei Nanxing's grip on Wen Xiao's hand tightened further; holding onto him like this was entirely an instinctive reaction.

When he saw Wen Xiao and Song Jingbai exchanging a distant gaze, the atmosphere between them—one that he could neither step into nor integrate with—filled him with a creeping terror.

He wanted to confirm that Wen Xiao was still by his side, to confirm that he wouldn't leave. No matter where Wen Xiao's gaze wandered, he only wanted him to stay within arm's reach so he could hold him.

Huo Zhanyan, standing nearby, heard this and directly pulled Wen Xiao a bit closer. Glancing at Wei Nanxing, he said, "Wen Xiao isn't exclusively yours, you know."

Jarred back to his senses by the interruption, Wen Xiao swatted Huo Zhanyan's hand away, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and couldn't help muttering, "You two act like you haven't grown up at all."

They were acting just like children fighting over a toy, and the crucial point was that he wasn't a toy.

Huo Zhanyan straightened his posture immediately, as if showing off his physique. As he leaned toward Wen Xiao, he cast a broad shadow over him, radiating a strong sense of coercion.

He raised an eyebrow and said, "Do you think I'm not big enough?"

Wen Xiao raised a hand to point at his own head, looking somewhat speechless. "I meant up here."

He looked back at Wei Nanxing and said softly, "The stars in the sky are always there, and I will be too."

Leng Shucheng chimed in with a cool tone, "If the two of you could cause a little less trouble, Wen Xiao would have much less to worry about."

Huo Zhanyan crossed his arms and looked at Leng Shucheng. "Look at Mr. Aloof over here. If you're so detached, why don't you step back?"

Before he knew it, applause erupted around them, and Wen Xiao realized the speeches had concluded.

When he looked back toward the stage, Song Jingbai was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by another male student wearing glasses.

Wen Xiao looked ahead, but there were too many people standing in the audience to locate Song Jingbai. Just as he was about to go look for him, he realized Wei Nanxing was still holding his hand.

"Xiaoxiao, are you going to look for Song Jingbai?" Wei Nanxing asked, watching him.

Wen Xiao nodded. When he realized that after coming to his senses he couldn't find Song Jingbai, he couldn't quite describe the feeling—it was just a faint lingering worry.

The person who had always been the very first to appear by his side had suddenly vanished.

"What could possibly happen to Song Jingbai? He'll probably wander over on his own in a minute," Huo Zhanyan said dismissively. No sooner had he spoken than he noticed a tall young man dressed in a dark blue formal suit walking toward them.

Wen Xiao found the young man somewhat familiar; he had seen him during public lectures. The guy was a senior, one year ahead of him, though his name escaped him.

"Are you talking about Song Jingbai? I saw him leave early just now. He seemed a bit unwell," the young man said, holding a champagne flute as he approached them. "You're his friends, aren't you? Aren't you going to check on him?"

Wen Xiao was momentarily stunned upon hearing this. Song Jingbai wasn't the kind of person to leave without a word, which meant he must have been feeling genuinely terrible.

Yet, feeling that unwell, how had he managed to push through and finish his representative speech?

No matter what, he had to go check on him.

"You guys continue enjoying the party; I'll go take a look," Wen Xiao said, and immediately walked away.

Wei Nanxing stared at his empty hand, watching the retreating figure. Slowly, he pulled his hand back, curling it into a tight fist.

He thought silently to himself: Even stars aren't always there; they get covered by clouds, and they eventually vanish.

Even if you look up and see a star, it might not be the same one.

If the world were a universe, Xiaoxiao would be the only celestial body he wished to retain. He orbited him, pulled by gravitational forces, yet dared not draw any closer, dared not cross that boundary.

There was an astronomical term called the Roche limit—the minimum distance to which a celestial body, held together only by its own gravity, can approach a second body without being torn apart by tidal forces.

When the distance between two celestial bodies is less than the Roche limit, the body will disintegrate and become a ring around the second body.

Much like Saturn without its planetary rings in the past, maintaining a certain distance allowed both sides to coexist peacefully.

If that safe distance was exceeded, one of them would be torn apart by the sheer proximity.

Thus, the small celestial bodies orbiting Saturn were ultimately torn apart by the planet's gravity, reduced to countless tiny particles of water ice and dust, encircling the planet to become its rings.

Wei Nanxing drained the purplish-red grape juice in his glass in one gulp and set it down on a table. The sweet-and-sour taste filled his mouth, while a faint trace of bitterness lingered in his heart.

I don't want to run away anymore, nor do I want to remain silent.

Xiaoxiao, even if I am shattered into pieces, I will stay by your side, just like a planetary ring.

***

By the time Wen Xiao reached the dormitory, he had already sent Song Jingbai a few messages, but none of them had been answered. Before he knew it, he was standing right outside Song Jingbai's dorm door.

Wen Xiao knocked. Hearing no response from within, he finally punched in the door's passcode himself.

"Excuse me."

He had always known Song Jingbai's room code; it seemed Song Jingbai had given it to him once when asking him to pick up some study materials.

Wen Xiao simply tried entering it and found the code hadn't been changed.

The sound of the lock clicking open echoed in his ears. Pushing the door open, Wen Xiao was greeted by pitch-darkness, instantly reminding him of the fact that Song Jingbai was afraid of the dark.

Wen Xiao initially thought that since the lights weren't even on, Song Jingbai surely couldn't be inside, when suddenly a gust of wind blew past.

It seemed to have blown the curtains open, letting moonlight stream in and making the room a bit less dark.

He stepped inside and looked toward the window in the direction of the breeze, only to spot someone sitting on the massive bay window sill.

The young man's silhouette appeared somewhat slender and delicate in the moonlight. He leaned against the wall with one leg bent, his right arm resting on his knee while his other hand supported the glass of the window. He tilted his head back slightly, as if gazing out into the distance.

The moonlight fell across the refined contours of his face, while the shadowed parts sank entirely into darkness, making his facial features appear even more deeply chiseled, casting an air of both unfamiliarity and familiarity.

"What are you looking at?"

Wen Xiao walked up to Song Jingbai, intending to pull him down and tell him not to sit on the window sill, when he was suddenly yanked hard by the other person, pulled straight into his arms, and trapped as a pair of arms banded tightly around his waist.

"Song Jingbai?"

Instinctively pressing his hands against Song Jingbai's chest, Wen Xiao looked up at him.

Looking up at Song Jingbai from this angle, he met the other's downward-glancing gaze.

Song Jingbai's eyes were long and narrow, the outer corners upturned slightly, and his fine, slender eyelashes cast a heavy shadow across his eyelids in the moonlight.

The tear mole beneath his left eye looked like the finishing touch on a painting, inexplicably alluring, making Wen Xiao feel momentarily dazed, as if he had run into a mythical fox spirit under the moonlight.

He almost forgot to push him away.

Suddenly catching a faint trace of alcohol on Song Jingbai, Wen Xiao turned serious. "Have you been drinking?"

"I picked the wrong one..." Song Jingbai murmured softly, pulling Wen Xiao even closer. "If you found out, would you report me?"

"...Of course not." Although Wen Xiao was puzzled as to how Song Jingbai could mistake wine for juice, he would never run off to tell the teachers about something like this.

As a friend, he would naturally help cover for him, especially since Song Jingbai hadn't broken the rules intentionally.

"Xiaoxiao, my head is spinning." Song Jingbai was practically whispering right against Wen Xiao's ear, and the warm breath he exhaled sent a sudden jolt through Wen Xiao.

It felt as though he had been lightly electrocuted, a tingling sensation spreading through his limbs and bones.

"If your head is spinning, go take a shower and get some rest right after," Wen Xiao said, patting his shoulder. "You can still move, right?"

Song Jingbai nodded. Just as Wen Xiao shifted closer, Song Jingbai's body suddenly stiffened, and his usual crafty fox-like eyes flickered slightly, as if droplets of water were rippling within them.

"Song Jingbai, are you hiding something hard in your pocket? It's poking me."

Wen Xiao frowned. Aside from the areas illuminated by the moonlight, the side turned away from the light was pitch black.

Mindful of what he had just brushed against, he was about to trace his hand down along Song Jingbai's leg to feel what it was, when his wrist was pinned down by the other's slender hand.

"Nothing..." Song Jingbai's voice was dropped very low, sounding as though he were suppressing something.

He had long since shed his uniform jacket and inner vest, leaving only a single white shirt on his body.

The top few buttons were casually undone, revealing his delicate collarbones—such a disheveled way of dressing was rarely seen on Song Jingbai.

Wen Xiao's attention was quickly diverted. After helping him to the bathroom and watching Song Jingbai steadily walk inside on his own, he finally felt reassured.

Taking advantage of the moment, he checked his phone and saw that Huo Zhanyan and the others had also sent him messages. He briefly explained Song Jingbai's situation while omitting the fact that Song Jingbai had been drinking.

No sooner had he replied than a thud echoed from inside the bathroom. Wen Xiao immediately stepped toward the bathroom door and called out, "Song Jingbai?"

Hearing no response, only the rushing sound of running water, Wen Xiao placed his hand on the doorknob and, finding it unlocked, pushed the door open.

Stepping inside, a wave of warm steam rushed over him. After adjusting to it for a moment, he took a couple of steps forward while calling out again, only to see someone standing right before him, dripping with water.

The person was tall, straight, and slender, having stripped off his last remaining shirt.

Clothed, he looked slender and lean, but stripped of his clothes, the faint, well-defined contours of muscles along his arms, chest, and abdomen became visible—a subtle, understated layer of muscle that wasn't overly bulky, yet radiated a strong sense of physical power. He was clearly the type who looked lean in clothes but possessed a solid physique without them.

Transparent droplets of water slowly trickled down the contours of his chest, carving distinct trails in their wake.