Chapter 33: Appropriately Forgetting Some Things

When the dismissal bell for the last class of the afternoon rang out, Ji Xu was lowering his head, rummaging through his desk cavity for a pen that had rolled into the corner.

He had just touched the pen and straightened up when the phone in his pocket vibrated.

He pulled it out and took a glance; in the anime club group chat, Qian Chenhe had sent a message, accompanied by a brightly colored event poster: “Next Saturday there’s an anime convention in Haicheng city center, and our club has a booth. Students who want to go reply with a ‘1’, so I can tally the numbers to arrange booths and activities.”

Below the message, a long row of “1”s had already been spammed; with a flick of his thumb, Ji Xu also followed up with a “1”.

“Ji Xu, let’s go eat.” A hand reached over from the side and nudged his shoulder; He Lu stood up from his seat, his backpack already slung over his shoulder, tilting his head as he looked at him.

Ji Xu put his phone back into his pocket, closed his textbook, stood up, and followed He Lu as they walked out of the teaching building one after the other.

The campus at dusk was dyed warm orange-gold by the setting sun, and the shadows of the camphor trees were stretched long, spreading over the gray-white cement road; the two walked forward stepping on those tree shadows, their pace neither fast nor slow.

The cafeteria at this time was at its busiest, with long lines queuing in front of every window, students holding meal trays shuttling between tables and chairs to look for empty seats.

Ji Xu and He Lu split the work and cooperated; He Lu was responsible for claiming a table, while Ji Xu was responsible for queuing up to buy food.

It took Ji Xu about ten minutes of queuing before he managed to carry two meal trays, one portion of Yuxiang shredded pork rice and one portion of Kung Pao chicken rice; carrying the trays in the crowd, he bypassed the gaps squeezed past several tables, finally finding He Lu in a corner spot.

He Lu had claimed a small square table with two empty seats opposite, and two cups of pre-poured free complimentary soup were placed on the table.

The two sat down face-to-face and began eating.

Ji Xu shoveled two mouthfuls of rice, his chopsticks picking up a piece of wood ear mushroom from the Yuxiang shredded pork to chew on; He Lu also took several bites, then his chopsticks paused, raising his head to look at Ji Xu: “Ji Xu, are you participating in that speech?”

Ji Xu still had rice in his mouth, hearing this, he let out a muffled “Hmm?”, swallowing it down before looking at He Lu: “What speech?”

“The English speech contest,” He Lu used the end of his chopsticks to tap on the tabletop, as if to emphasize the formality of this matter, “The study committee member posted it in the group this morning, didn’t you see it?”

He paused, then took another bite of rice, “I actually want to try, it’s just that my spoken English isn’t very good, and I don’t know if I’ll be laughed at then. But I checked the notice, saying participation gets academic credits, and if you win an award there seems to be prize money, though it’s only a few hundred bucks…”

Ji Xu put down his chopsticks, pulled out his phone, opened the class group’s message history, and scrolled up, sure enough finding that notice sent by the study committee member at over eight in the morning.

It was an English speech contest organized by the Department of Literature, with the theme “The Future in My Eyes,” open for registration to all students in the department; preliminary rounds were on this Saturday, and the semi-finals on Sunday.

The notice clearly stated that simply participating would earn social practice credits, the excellence award came with three hundred yuan, and the top three had prize money of eight hundred, five hundred, and four hundred respectively.

Looking at those words “participation earns credits” and “prize money,” Ji Xu calculated in his heart; he indeed still lacked some practical credits this semester, and a few hundred yuan was not a small amount to him either.

“Then let’s go try together,” Ji Xu locked his phone screen, placed it back on the table, and picked up his chopsticks again, “Isn’t spoken language something that only gets better with practice? After going on stage a few more times, you won’t be afraid.”

He Lu gave him a somewhat surprised glance: “Aren’t you nervous? I mean, standing on stage speaking in front of so many people.”

Ji Xu thought back to his high school experiences of being pushed by teachers to participate in various competitions and activities, from recitation contests to English corner showcases, and then to campus speech competitions; the number of times was so many that he could no longer remember clearly.

During those first few times, he indeed sweated in his palms from nervousness, his legs shaking while standing on stage, his voice shaking too; but after doing it a few more times, it was like being vaccinated, and once his body remembered that feeling, it was no longer so afraid.

He picked up a piece of diced chicken and stuffed it into his mouth: “It’s fine, once you’re used to it you won’t be nervous. In high school, I was pushed to participate in quite a lot, I’m already immune.”

He Lu let out a long “Oh,” a bit more admiration appearing in his eyes: “Then this time I’ll tag along with you, don’t leave me behind.”

After finishing their meal, the two carried their meal trays to the return area and exited the cafeteria, walking toward the dorm along the road lined with small stalls on both sides.

When Ji Xu passed the milk tea shop, he paused, thinking of the person in the dorm who had no classes this afternoon and had probably been huddled in the room for the entire afternoon.

He went in and bought two cups, one for himself, and brought back a room-temperature lemon tea.

The two parted ways at the intersection; He Lu walked toward the west dormitory building, while Ji Xu turned into Building Seven.

When he pushed open the door of 404, Yuan Hanfei was indeed there, sitting at the desk reading a book, a thick specialized textbook spread open, with a few lines of words written on the notebook beside it.

Ji Xu walked over and placed one of the milk tea cups on Yuan Hanfei’s desk, the water droplets on the cup wall seeping out a small ring of wet mark on the tabletop.

When Yuan Hanfei raised his head and saw that cup of milk tea, his eyebrows raised slightly: “How come you thought to buy me milk tea?”

He picked up the cup and looked at the flavor on the label; lemon tea, room temperature, just what he liked.

Ji Xu sat down on that chair beside him, placed the other cup of milk tea on his own desk without unwrapping the straw, and instead turned around to look at Yuan Hanfei, his fingers tapping a couple of times on the chair’s armrest.

He brewed his thoughts for a few seconds before opening his mouth, his voice slightly lower than usual: “That, can you appropriately forget the stuff after I drank alcohol?”

After finishing, he felt these words sounded somewhat strange himself, so he added another line: “That wasn’t the real me, really.”

Yuan Hanfei placed the milk tea cup on the tabletop and turned his body around to face Ji Xu directly.

His expression carried a kind of realization that said “so you wanted to say this,” a hint of a smile pressed at the corners of his lips: “Oh, which specific ‘stuff’ are you referring to? Are you referring to almost hitting the lamppost, or slipping in the bathroom and having me go in to haul you up—”

“Yuan Hanfei!” Ji Xu’s voice went half a tone higher, the tips of his ears flushing a deep red, “Can’t you just pretend you didn’t see those things?”

Drunk on one cup, walking into a post, slipping during a shower and getting seen completely naked by his roommate—he didn’t want to recall these things again for the rest of his life.

What was sadder than getting drunk was remembering all one’s embarrassments crystal clearly, every single detail engraved in the mind, including those chaotic thoughts in his head when Yuan Hanfei hauled him up from the floor, remembered crystal clearly all together, unable to forget even if he wanted to.

Looking at his anxious and embarrassed appearance, Yuan Hanfei stood up from his chair and walked in front of Ji Xu.

He bent down to look straight at Ji Xu who was sitting, reaching out to ruffle the top of his hair, the force as gentle as soothing a small animal with flared fur: “Alright, Little Kid Ji, don’t be sad. It’s the first time, very normal.”

His fingertips brushed past Ji Xu’s hair strands, the soft touch making his voice take on a gentle note as well.

Ji Xu tilted his head and ducked his head out from under his hand, the heat on his cheeks not yet faded, his mouth pursed: “There won’t be a next time.”

He spoke with absolute certainty, as if this promise was more important than all his other lifetime vows combined.

Yuan Hanfei withdrew his hand, turned back to pick up that cup of lemon tea on the desk, poked open the straw, and took a sip.

The sourness of the lemon and the clarity of the tea spread across the tip of his tongue.

When swallowing it down, he took a glance at Ji Xu, the corners of his mouth curving: “Very delicious, it’s my favorite flavor.”

Sitting there watching Yuan Hanfei leisurely drinking that cup of lemon tea, an absurd thought popped up in Ji Xu’s mind—could he “murder” this roommate.

Not in the literal sense, but rather, was there a method to make Yuan Hanfei suffer amnesia, completely deleting the events of that night from his brain, clean without leaving a trace like emptying the recycle bin on a computer.

If only there were a selective amnesia drug in the world, he would definitely spend a big price to buy a box, finding a chance to let Yuan Hanfei drink it down.

Sitting on the chair thinking about those unrealistic plans, Ji Xu unwrapped the straw for his own cup of milk tea, poked it in, and took a big gulp, the icy liquid sliding down his throat and washing away some of the heat on his cheeks.

Yuan Hanfei had already returned to his desk to continue reading, that curved arc at the corners of his mouth not yet completely lowered; from his peripheral vision, he could still see Ji Xu’s side profile as he puffed his cheeks and bit the straw, looking angry, embarrassed, and utterly helpless against him, looking even a bit more vivid than when he was drunk that day.

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