The weather stayed clear for several days after that.
Yin Xigui holed up in the house and refused to go anywhere. Like a cat basking in the sun, he spent each day sprawled on the sofa with those finance books, occasionally looking up to make sure Sheng Linyou was still in the room before lowering his head to read again.
By breakfast one morning, Sheng Linyou could no longer bear that clinging gaze. His chopsticks clicked against the rim of his bowl as he looked across the table at Yin Xigui, who was biting into a piece of fried dough.
“Do you have anything to do today?”
Yin Xigui swallowed and tilted his head in thought. “No. What do you want to do, gege?”
“Go out for a walk. Stop staying inside all day.”
Yin Xigui's eyes lit up. He stuffed the rest of the fried dough into his mouth, cheeks bulging like a hamster storing food, and mumbled, “I'll change! Wait for me!”
His slippers slapped against the stairs as he ran up. From the dining table, Sheng Linyou heard a door open and close and a cabinet being rummaged through.
About ten minutes later, Yin Xigui came down in a thin, pale-beige sweatshirt, the edge of a white T-shirt visible at the collar, and loose light-colored trousers. He looked clean and soft. His hair was tied into a small half-up knot, wisps framing his ears and making his face seem even smaller.
“Do I look good?” He stopped at the turn of the stairs, spread his arms, and spun once.
Leaning against the table with his arms folded, Sheng Linyou inspected him from head to toe. His gaze settled on the sliver of waist that appeared beneath the sweatshirt.
The top was a little short. Whenever Yin Xigui lifted his arms, it exposed a patch of smooth, pale skin.
“Change it.”
“Why? Doesn't it look good?”
“Too short.”
Yin Xigui glanced down at the hem and burst out laughing. “You're so possessive, gege.”
But he still ran upstairs and changed into a longer one. When he returned, he raised his chin at Sheng Linyou. “How about now?”
Sheng Linyou grunted his approval, took his coat from the entryway cabinet, and held out his hand.
Yin Xigui trotted over and slipped his hand into Sheng Linyou's, interlacing their fingers and brushing his thumb over the back of his hand.
“Where are we going?”
“You'll know when we get there.”
Sheng Linyou took him to the old racetrack outside the city. It had been abandoned for years. Cracks webbed the asphalt, and most of the red-and-white paint had peeled from the shoulders, but the curves and straights remained recognizable.
Someone had cut an opening in the wire fence. Beside it stood an old motorcycle Sheng Linyou had somehow acquired that morning. Its body was dusty and showed its age, but the engine had been well maintained.
Yin Xigui stopped at the gap and stared at the track stretching away. For an instant, his expression went blank. He turned toward Sheng Linyou, his voice suddenly quiet.
“Where did you get this, gege?”
“Borrowed it.” Sheng Linyou pushed the motorcycle through the gap and patted the rear seat. “Get on.”
Yin Xigui watched him for several seconds, then smiled, his eyes curving. He ran over, swung onto the back, and wrapped both arms around Sheng Linyou's waist. His fingers locked over Sheng Linyou's abdomen, his cheek resting against the fabric over his back.
When Sheng Linyou started the engine, its vibration traveled through him. Yin Xigui tightened his arms.
“Hold on.”
The engine roared and the motorcycle shot onto the track. Wind rushed at them, streaming Yin Xigui's long pink hair behind him.
Pressed to Sheng Linyou's back, he felt the engine's tremor and the force of acceleration as the road blurred past on either side. Sheng Linyou leaned low into a curve. Yin Xigui tilted with him and instinctively buried his face between Sheng Linyou's shoulder blades, fingers clutching the fabric at his waist.
The engine growled through the bend. The motorcycle straightened at the exit, and the rush of acceleration snapped their clothes in the wind.
After one lap, Yin Xigui remained folded against his back.
Sheng Linyou slowed and glanced aside. “Scared?”
“No,” came the muffled answer.
“Then lift your head.”
Yin Xigui slowly looked up. The wind had wrecked his bangs, sticking loose strands to his forehead. His cheeks were pink from the cold, and the gray-blue sky and two rows of bare roadside trees reflected in his eyes.
“You're so handsome, gege.” The wind tore at his words, but Sheng Linyou heard them.
He ruffled Yin Xigui's windblown hair and guided that fluffy head back against his shoulder.
“We'll go home after this lap.”
“No. Two more!”
“It's cold.”
“Then ride faster. We won't feel cold.”
Sheng Linyou laughed despite himself and twisted the throttle. The engine bellowed. Yin Xigui's laughter broke into fragments behind them and scattered on the wind.
Two tire tracks crossed and stretched along the crumbling course. Sunlight slanted through gaps in the clouds, laying long golden bands across the asphalt.
After three laps, Yin Xigui's face had gone slightly pale and his lips had lost some color, but the corners of his mouth refused to fall.
Sheng Linyou removed his coat, wrapped it around him, and pulled the zipper to the top so the raised collar shielded his reddened chin.
“Cold now?”
“No.”
Yin Xigui buried his face in the collar. Sheng Linyou's scent enclosed him. He inhaled deeply and smiled with narrowed eyes. “Your coat is so warm, gege.”
Sheng Linyou bent to straighten its hem. They stood half an arm apart beside the abandoned course, surrounded only by wind and the occasional distant birdcall. The dark coat swallowed Yin Xigui's upper body and made him look even smaller. Pink wisps escaped the hood, lifting and falling in the breeze.
“You're cold.”
“I'm not.”
“Your lips are white.”
“That's from the wind.”
Sheng Linyou stopped arguing and pulled the hood over his head. He tightened its drawstrings until only half of Yin Xigui's face and his smiling eyes showed.
Yin Xigui peered up from under the hood, then caught Sheng Linyou's sweatshirt drawstring and tugged him closer. Sheng Linyou bent down until they were looking at each other across the rim of the hood.
“Thank you, gege.”
“For what?”
“For bringing me to see where you used to race.”
Sheng Linyou watched him for a moment, then tucked a loose pink strand back beneath the hood.
“Next time, I'll take you to a real track. One that's still open.”
“Really?”
“Mm.”
Yin Xigui pushed his whole face out from the hood and beamed until his eyes became narrow crescents. Then he rose on tiptoe and kissed Sheng Linyou's brow through the thick edge of the hood. It was the highest spot he could reach.
When Yin Xigui settled back on his heels, Sheng Linyou tugged the hood down again to hide the tips of his wind-reddened ears.
“Come on. We're going home.”
“Okay.”
On the return trip, Yin Xigui sat with his arms around Sheng Linyou's waist and his head resting on his shoulder. They rode slowly. The wind had softened and carried a trace of warmth left by the afternoon sun. Sheng Linyou felt Yin Xigui's even breath against his back.
When they passed a roadside stall selling sugar-roasted chestnuts, Yin Xigui poked him.
“Gege, I want those.”
Sheng Linyou braked. Wrapped in the coat two sizes too large for him, Yin Xigui jumped off and ran to the stall. He exchanged a few words with the vendor and came back clutching a paper bag, shaking his fingers after touching the fresh chestnuts.
“Hot, hot, hot!”
Sheng Linyou took his hand and examined it. A tiny patch on his fingertip had turned red. He peeled the offending chestnut, blew on it, and held it to Yin Xigui's mouth.
Yin Xigui bit it, chewed twice, and smiled. “Sweet.”
Sheng Linyou peeled one for himself. Warm, soft sweetness spread across his tongue.
Yin Xigui peeled another and offered it. “Open up, gege.”
Sheng Linyou lowered his head and ate it, his lips brushing Yin Xigui's fingertips. The fingers twitched back. Yin Xigui smiled and tucked the remaining chestnuts into the coat pocket before climbing onto the motorcycle again.
“Let's go home, gege.”
As the engine started, his voice reached Sheng Linyou in broken pieces beneath its rumble.
“We'll come again.”
Sheng Linyou did not answer. But when he opened the throttle, he felt the arms around his waist tighten.
It was almost dark when they reached the house. Yin Xigui hung up the coat with half a bag of chestnuts still in its pocket. Sheng Linyou put water on to boil. When he turned, Yin Xigui stood at the living-room window with his back to him, slowly peeling a chestnut.
Sheng Linyou joined him. Side by side, they watched the sky deepen into warm colors.
Yin Xigui held the peeled chestnut to Sheng Linyou's mouth. Sheng Linyou ate it, sweetness and toasted fragrance spreading as he chewed.
“Gege.”
“Mm?”
“Today was the best day I've had in a long time.”
Sheng Linyou looked at him. Yin Xigui stood in profile, lashes lowered.
Sheng Linyou rested a hand on the back of his head, his thumb brushing the skin along his hairline.
“There'll be more.”
“Mm.”
The kettle began to boil, white steam puffing from its spout. Yin Xigui headed for the kitchen, then turned after two steps and smiled.
“I'll make you tea, gege.”
Leaning against the windowsill, Sheng Linyou watched his little pink topknot bob under the warm kitchen light. When Yin Xigui reached for the tea canister above the cabinet, the hem of his sweatshirt rode up again, baring a clean line of waist before falling back into place.
Sheng Linyou watched it appear and vanish. His Adam's apple moved, but he said nothing.
“Found it.” Yin Xigui turned with the canister and blinked when he met Sheng Linyou's gaze. “Why are you staring at me, gege?”
“I wasn't.”
Yin Xigui tilted his head, unconvinced, but did not pursue it. As he fetched the cups, Sheng Linyou heard him humming an uneven, wandering tune.
Sheng Linyou leaned against the kitchen doorway and watched him make tea. Yin Xigui was not practiced. He added too many leaves, removed some, then poured in the hot water. Fragrant steam rose.
He carried the first cup to Sheng Linyou in both hands, looking up as he waited for him to take it.
Sheng Linyou drank. Scalding tea rolled across his tongue, bitter for an instant before turning sweet.
“Is it good?”
“Mm.”
Yin Xigui poured his own cup and curled up cross-legged on the sofa, holding it in both hands like a squirrel with a nut. Sheng Linyou sat beside him, half a cushion between them. The television was on, but neither watched it.
After several sips, Yin Xigui set his cup down, shifted closer, and rested his head on Sheng Linyou's shoulder. Sheng Linyou lifted an arm to the back of the sofa, fingertips settling on Yin Xigui's shoulder.
Night had completely fallen outside.
“Gege,” Yin Xigui murmured into the hollow of his shoulder.
“Mm?”
“I really was happy today.”
Sheng Linyou looked down. Yin Xigui's eyes were already closed, his lashes casting two small curved shadows over his cheeks. His breathing was long and steady. He was almost asleep.
Sheng Linyou lowered his arm and drew him closer so he could rest more securely.
“Sleep,” he whispered.
On the edge of sleep, Yin Xigui gave a muddled reply and burrowed deeper into his neck.
Sheng Linyou remained there as the tea in his hand slowly cooled and silent images flickered across the television.
Moonlight slipped through a gap in the curtains and fell beside a patch of lamplight on the floor. The two beams pointed in different directions, crossing over the wooden boards to form one quiet corner.
Sheng Linyou turned his head and gently rested his chin on Yin Xigui's hair.