Chapter Text
"What?" Yibo asked again, the ringing in his ear grew louder.
Wen Han breathed out sharply, then looked at Yibo.
“What did you just say?” Yibo asked again, his mouth thinning into a frown. The ringing still had not stopped. What letter?
Words didn’t really matter. Not until they started carrying real weight and meaning.
Wen Han frowned, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, confusion setting in. His mouth quivered, and he blinked a couple of times.
“That’s what he asked,” he said, then shrugged, his eyes still on him. “And those were his exact words.”
Yibo looked at Wen Han. Then, his eyes centered on his friend’s face. "You."
Wen Han looked at Yibo and gave him an apologetic look. "I have no idea what this is about. But that's what Xiao Zhan wanted me to ask you."
Yibo's hand clenched into a fist. "Wen Han." His tone was calm but controlled. "What exactly do you know about the letter?"
Wen Han blinked, then his brows curved downwards. "I don't know, Yibo. I really don’t."
Yibo gritted his teeth as he looked at the surroundings; the wind blew past the trees, and students were passing by, throwing curious glances their way. Their voices must be loud without them realizing it.
Xiao Zhan would never trust anyone that easily. Yibo knew because he spent days with him back in Ho Chi Minh City, and he was not the type who would just open up quickly; though he would share a few things, not a lot, and Yibo was aware of that.
But why Wen Han? What did he see in him? Was it because they shared the same love and passion for art pieces? Or was it because of their family connections? Yibo wanted to know.
Yibo inhaled sharply as he tried to clear his mind, but failed. He still did not understand.
"I have no idea what you’re even trying to say, Yibo," Wen Han repeated, but Yibo's face already turned stoic.
Yibo’s lips pressed shut. “That’s unlikely.”
“What is?”
“You–not knowing anything about it.”
“Because I don’t.”
Yibo scoffed. “That’s just strange to me.” He had already made a decision.
The creases on Wen Han’s face deepened. “What do you mean? Strange, how?” His voice rose a bit.
"If you don't know, then how come you're the only person he asked?!"
Wen Han sighed as he rolled his eyes, frustration showing on his face. "That's because you are the one closest to me. Isn’t that enough explanation?!”
“Bullshit!” Yibo spat out, then dashed forward angrily and pushed Wen Han out of the way as he stormed out.
“Running away from this doesn’t fix things. You know that!” He said angrily.
Yibo huffed sharply, quickening his steps. He clearly wanted to know what the letter was even about.
And where exactly was it? Yibo had no clue.
Wen Han called again, but Yibo did not respond or turn his back, the anger still boiling over inside him. He did not know what to do with the influx of emotions that flooded through him the moment that question was asked. He was also angry and confused at the moment, and talking was out of the question for him now.
So, he strode toward his dorm, took his gym outfit, and then ran to the gym to work out. His brain was not to be trusted at this time, but he believed his anger toward Wen Han was righteous.
He considered Wen Han his close friend. And he expected him to let him know about things and not withhold important information from him like that. And how close was he even with Xiao Zhan? Would he be Xiao Zhan’s best friend now?
And what the hell was that letter even about? Yibo had no recollection of ever receiving a letter from Xiao Zhan.
And shit, what did the letter even say?
Yibo just wanted to slam his head against the wall. Did Xiao Zhan really mean to send him a letter before he left for China?
But couldn’t he have sent him a chat instead? Yibo had no idea what was going on with Xiao Zhan’s mind at that time. He just knew that when he met him, Xiao Zhan said he wasn’t ready at that time and all that shit. Could he have lied? Yibo had no idea. He had no idea what or who to trust nowadays, really.
He carefully picked up the barbell and started working out.
Working out really put his mind at ease. But he knew he had likely put himself in a situation where things had gotten complicated because he overreacted.
Yibo breathed deeply as he concentrated on his workout. There were so many things to do inside, and he was happy to do them. It would always be a welcome distraction.
It was already dark when he got out of the university gym; he had thrown his phone into his backpack. His hair was still wet from taking a shower. Then he went home.
When he got home, he felt the weight and stress of the day seep into his muscles. He carefully placed his backpack on the floor and lay in bed as he hopelessly stared at the ceiling, wondering what the letter mentioned.
The ceiling was a vast space. Then he turned to his left; he left his backpack lying on the floor. He never bothered to pull out his important stuff and transfer them over the table. His energy was just gone. He should have been studying, but there was no motivation. He had spent all his energy on useless stuff.
The only way was to talk to Xiao Zhan. But he had acted weird with Wen Han earlier, and there was no way he could take back what he said. He had already said a few hurtful words, and he hurt his friend by accusing him of something his friend repeatedly denied. Without proof, something could not be real. Yibo now felt weird for saying those words to Wen Han.
The next day, Yibo attended his classes, and he had not spoken to Wen Han ever since their last talk yesterday. He convinced himself that things would be okay today. He even forced himself to listen to the lectures even if his body and mind were far from being cooperative.
Wen Han only attempted to communicate yesterday by calling him, but once the evening rolled around, there were no calls from him. Yibo checked his phone this morning; there were no calls past seven. And now that they were in class together, he avoided communicating with him.
Perhaps he wanted Yibo to work on his anger first and then think things through.
Yibo admitted he acted irrationally yesterday. Now it was a wave of shame and guilt that overtook him and prevented him from even having a decent conversation with Wen Han.
Once all classes had been done for the day, Yibo had gone to the gym.
When he came out, he showered and came out feeling fresh. He wanted to drive and go somewhere. He did not know where yet, but he would get there.
He descended the staircase and was out of the building. Many students walked unhurriedly past him, their voices filling the wide expanse of the campus.
The sky had darkened into a black mass above him. It looked like it was going to be a wonderful night for driving around the city.
He was walking, ruminating, when he ran into his roommate, Cao Junxiang.
He was walking and looking ahead when someone called his name.
“Yibo-ge?”
Yibo stopped, then smiled at his roommate. “Junxiang-di?”
He smiled and waved at him. He was alone; apparently he had been pretty busy himself.
“I just got out of the library,” he said amicably. “Are you going back to our dorms?”
“Yes,” Yibo said, nodding.
“Then we can just go together,” he said in a friendly tone.
“Sure,” Yibo said, holding the strap of his backpack as he looked ahead.
They walked back to their dorms. As soon as they were inside, they talked about the usual stuff about university life. Cao Junxiang was enthusiastic about his lessons and friends, and also the things that he got to do with his friends. He was such an enthusiastic student. Yibo had no problem with that. He believed passion could light up once you enjoyed things.
Then something occurred to Yibo. He asked Cao Junxiang if he wanted to go drive around Shanghai, find something to eat, and then come back later.
Cao Junxiang did not hesitate. He said yes right away, and Yibo was pleased.
They rode across the streets of Shanghai. His roommate had been a good sport. The city lights illuminated the whole area; the vibrant streets were filled with people. Their voices spread across the streets.
They found many stalls, and many people gathered around those spots to choose food.
Yibo found a spot to park his motorcycle.
Cao Junxiang slowly untangled himself from the motorcycle.
Minutes later, they were looking from stall to stall, looking for snacks to try. Something that could satisfy their cravings and only help Yibo relax for the evening. He had just gone to the gym earlier, but he did not care about his diet; he was going to enjoy food like a real foodie would.
There were arrays of street food, and his stomach churned, reminding him that he had gone quite a long time without food.
He nodded in Cao Junxiang’s direction, and he got his cue immediately; they both walked toward the spot where many people swarmed around like bees.
The pleasing aroma of food hung in the air. Yibo witnessed the steamed palm-sized crabs, and of course, there was that signature dish of Shanghai—steamed buns. Yibo had never tried those in a long time. His mouth watered just seeing them. There were also flatbreads baked in the metal cylinder, lamb skewers, and those renowned tea eggs that were almost everywhere in Shanghai.
Some days, one must venture into foodie spots that people loved going to. It made him think again of one particular person.
Yibo sighed silently.
“Something wrong?” He heard his roommate ask behind him.
“Oh,” Yibo mumbled. “Nothing. Just having thoughts.”
Cao Junxiang looked at him quickly, nodding, then at the pan-fried dumplings. He went over to the stall, and Yibo followed after him.
There was still a long list of snacks here to try out, and he was glad his roommate, Cao Junxiang, had decided to come with him.
From that night on, he started hanging out with his roommate more than most of his friends. Yibo still talked to some of his friends, though- the ones within their friend circle. They probably knew what happened between him and Wen Han, so the topic was avoided at all costs until he and Wen Han patched things up.
Right now, it was unlikely.
And because of that, Yibo had become somewhat disengaged. He had limited himself to talking to a few of his friends online, but he had stopped hanging out with people in his friend circle altogether; not even one of them asked him to hang out. Usually, Wen Han had always been the life of the party; without him, the people would just do their own thing or be somewhere. It was he who dragged them to a lot of parties and also asked to go have fun elsewhere.
And about Xiao Zhan?
There were still many things Yibo had not known about Xiao Zhan. If it were not for Wen Han, Yibo would not have learned anything about Xiao Zhan and his family’s business and entire affairs regarding corporate artworks, since that person had been too quiet about numerous things.
That was why Yibo found it a little strange that he started sharing things with Wen Han and even had the gall to ask him if Yibo had received a letter from him back in Vietnam.
It was supposed to be their secret thing.
Whatever happened, Yibo would never reveal to anyone at this point that he and Xiao Zhan had a fling last year. But why would Xiao Zhan even pass that along to Wen Han? Did he just tell him about their short affair?
Perhaps Yibo was wrong about Wen Han, or Xiao Zhan found it easier to talk and discuss private matters with him because he was likely the type who just listened and didn't ask. Maybe he did ask a few personal questions to Yibo and asked curiously about things, but that’s because he practically thought of him as his brother and friend.
Yibo just suspected that Wen Han and Xiao Zhan were friends, but they had not reached the level of Yibo and Wen Han’s friendship for the latter to be nosy and ask questions. Well, anyway. That was what Yibo thought now that his mind had slightly cleared.
But it’s been days already since he last spoke with Wen Han.
Then days turned into weeks; there was no follow-through from Wen Han nor from him. It was clear that their friendship would only resume if one of them decided to talk and discuss things.
And besides, Yibo knew he owed Wen Han an apology. But he had not made up his mind yet. But in the near future, he needed to talk to Wen Han at some point. And in this moment, he just could not muster the energy to even pick up the phone and call him and admit he could be wrong about so many things.
And the only way for him to know more about the letter was through him. Either that, or he had to go directly to Xiao Zhan.
Yibo had decided he was neither going to do those things at this point. At least not too soon.