Try Again chapter 15
Sit on the Bed?
After entering the apartment, Jiang Lin walked over to the sofa and sat down, watching as Ji Minglun took ice from under the fridge, wrapped it in a clean towel, and handed it to him.
Gently pressing the ice pack against the spot where he had hit his head, Jiang Lin raised his gaze to look at the person in front of him.
Ji Minglun had one hand on his hip, his tone still as cold as ever: “If you feel dizzy or want to throw up, just say it. I’ll take you to the hospital for a check-up.”
“Not to that extent,” Jiang Lin muttered.
Ji Minglun glanced at him again, turned around, and walked toward the bathroom. Jiang Lin stood up and said, “You still haven’t answered my earlier question.”
Without turning back, Ji Minglun locked the bathroom door.
Jiang Lin sat back on the sofa, tossing the ice pack onto the coffee table. Soon, the sound of running water came from the bathroom. He wanted to wash his hands in the kitchen, but when he finished and reached for a paper towel, the phone screen on the kitchen island lit up.
That was Ji Minglun’s phone, and it was within sight. Jiang Lin glanced over and saw a WeChat message on the lock screen.
[Minglun, don’t make things so tense with your dad. He wants to take you to immigrate out of goodwill. You’ve been alone for so many years, and back when he was working…]He didn’t have time to read the rest before the screen went dark.
Jiang Lin looked towards the bathroom. Emotionally, he wanted to finish reading that message, but reason told him that it was inappropriate; he and Ji Minglun were no longer as close as they once were.
Fortunately, he caught the key part and understood why Ji Minglun was feeling down.
Not knowing which country Ji Minglun’s father wanted to go to, Jiang Lin racked his brain but couldn’t remember Ji Zhuosheng ever expressing such intentions. Ji Minglun hadn’t mentioned it either in the past, so it must have happened in the past year.
He had just returned not long ago and would have to go back to school in two months. The pressure in his second year would be greater, and he might not even have time during the winter break. If Ji Minglun agreed to immigrate and they weren’t together, it would be even harder to meet up in the future.
Was he supposed to go live in the country where Ji Minglun would immigrate after graduation?
Actually, that wouldn’t be impossible, but…
Staring at the dark phone screen, Jiang Lin suddenly realized he was thinking too much; all of this had to be based on the premise that they might be together.
At this point, there was still no sign of that happening; thinking about it was excessive.
Telling himself to calm down, Jiang Lin returned to the sink and splashed his face with cold water. By the time Ji Minglun finished showering and came out, he was no longer on the living room sofa.
After checking the kitchen, Ji Minglun walked to the entrance, and those black Vans shoes were still in place.
The guest room and study were empty. Ji Minglun turned and walked into the master bedroom, where he saw a figure behind the floor-to-ceiling window.
Jiang Lin had his arms crossed, resting them on the iron railing, gazing at the stunning night view below the high-rise.
As Ji Minglun approached from behind, he said, “It’s late; you should go back.”
Jiang Lin didn’t move. A section of his ponytail had come loose, the hair tie lost somewhere, and the strands brushing against his neck were stirred by the summer night breeze, sending a familiar scent into Ji Minglun’s breathing space.
This scent reminded him of a detail he had overlooked when he brushed Jiang Lin’s hair earlier.
The fragrance of Jiang Lin’s hair was the same as the shampoo he used; could it be that Jiang Lin was now using the same brand as him?
The person leaning against the railing was unaware of Ji Minglun’s thoughts; he simply rested his face on his arms and softly said, “I’m really tired and don’t want to drive.”
After showering, Ji Minglun was nearly sober and wouldn’t let Jiang Lin fool him: “I’ll call a ride for you; it’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Turning back to the room, Ji Minglun wanted to grab his phone. After taking a couple of steps, he heard Jiang Lin say, “Just now, when I went to the kitchen to wash my hands, I saw a new message alert on your phone.”
“I didn’t mean to snoop; the lock screen shows it too,” Jiang Lin explained, turning to look at Ji Minglun’s back. “You’re upset about the immigration issue, aren’t you?”
Ji Minglun’s hands were in the pockets of his bathrobe. A gust of wind blew through, making the bathrobe feel chilly and reminding him that he hadn’t put on any underwear after his shower.
Thinking about how Jiang Lin had also come out of the shower without underwear last time made him clench his hands in his pockets: “This has nothing to do with you. I’m really tired. If you don’t want to call a ride, just take a taxi back and come pick up your car tomorrow.”
Entering the bedroom, he opened the closet and took a black pair of underwear. He locked the bathroom door to put it on, and when he came out, he found Jiang Lin standing by the refrigerator in the kitchen, his upper body hidden behind the door, seemingly looking for something.
He really didn’t have the mood to deal with Jiang Lin’s antics anymore, so he walked over. Just as he approached, Jiang Lin stuffed four cans of beer into his arms and grabbed a bag of frozen squid strips, closing the refrigerator door as he said, “Are we drinking on the balcony or sitting in the living room?”
Ji Minglun’s eyelids twitched. Before he could answer, Jiang Lin continued, “The balcony is hot; let’s sit in the living room.”
He was so familiar with this home, almost as if it were his own. He walked to the smart home screen on the wall and adjusted the temperature from 24 degrees to 26 degrees. Sitting cross-legged in front of the sofa, he looked up to find Ji Minglun still standing in front of the fridge.
“Don’t you want to sit on the sofa? Where do you want to sit, on the bed?”
As Jiang Lin finished speaking, he stood up, sliding his feet into slippers and headed toward the master bedroom. Ji Minglun was baffled by his insensitivity. Were they really in a position to sit on the same bed right now?
Calling out to Jiang Lin, who had one leg already crossed into the master bedroom, Ji Minglun, filled with pent-up frustration, sat down on the sofa and opened a can for himself, taking a big gulp.
Jiang Lin walked around the coffee table and sat down next to Ji Minglun. The sofa sank slightly toward him, and Ji Minglun felt it, taking advantage of the motion to glance at the person beside him.
Jiang Lin also opened a can of beer and gulped down several mouthfuls.
Since they turned eighteen, they often sat like this on the sofa or bed, drinking and chatting. However, Jiang Lin had a low tolerance for alcohol; he would start getting tipsy after just two cans of Heineken.
Ji Minglun remembered that during their last visit to the izakaya, Jiang Lin only had a few small cups of sake. It seemed that in over a year since moving to Los Angeles, Jiang Lin still hadn’t built up his tolerance for alcohol. Did this mean that after leaving him, Jiang Lin hadn’t had any friends to drink with?
Realizing he was overthinking again, Ji Minglun took a large gulp of cold beer. When Jiang Lin offered him squid strips, he said “no,” watching Jiang Lin take them back and continuing to eat on his own. A throbbing pain began to pulse in his temples.
How insensitive could this guy be?
The house fell silent, except for the sound of Ji Minglun swallowing beer and Jiang Lin munching on the squid strips. Just as Ji Minglun prepared to open a third can, Jiang Lin reached over and took that can of Heineken away.
Ji Minglun shot him a sideways glance as Jiang Lin said, “Drinking alone won’t solve the problem. Where does uncle Ji want to immigrate to?”
Leaning back against the sofa, the tension in Ji Minglun’s shoulder muscles relaxed. However, since he was wearing a bathrobe, leaning back caused his legs to spread out to the sides. Jiang Lin’s gaze brushed over the hint of black fabric barely visible between Ji Minglun’s legs, and his throat involuntarily moved.
Ji Minglun stared at the ceiling, not noticing what Jiang Lin was looking at. After a moment of silence, he answered, “Seoul.”
Jiang Lin was somewhat surprised. In his impression, Ji Zhuosheng’s business had mostly been within the country, with a small part involving Southeast Asia, but he had never heard of any business dealings in Seoul.
“Why did he choose Korea?”
After staring at the ceiling light for too long, Ji Minglun began to see double and closed his eyes to rest. “How would I know?”
After Ji Minglun’s parents divorced, they each started new families, both of which accepted him well. However, he was unwilling to integrate into either family, feeling more comfortable living alone.
“Didn’t you talk it over with him?” Jiang Lin asked.
“I didn’t want to.”
“Was that WeChat message just now from Aunt, or…”
“My mom doesn’t know about this. If she finds out, she’ll definitely argue with him.”
So it was that person. Jiang Lin thought to himself, Ji Minglun’s stepmother, Xie Min.
“Don’t you want to go?” Jiang Lin continued to ask.
Ji Minglun opened his eyes and glanced at Jiang Lin. Jiang Lin felt an inexplicable glare, and Ji Minglun showed no intention of explaining. After sitting up straight, he pulled the tab on the can he couldn’t open earlier and drank half of it.
Jiang Lin wanted to advise him to drink less, but knowing he was feeling troubled, he went along with it. “You only have a year left until graduation. He shouldn’t pressure you to give up your studies during this year, right?”
When Ji Minglun chose his undergraduate major, he had argued with Ji Zhuosheng a few times. Ji Zhuosheng and his second wife had only one daughter, so he hoped Ji Minglun could take over his business. However, Ji Minglun had no interest in business and was wholly focused on journalism.
At that time, Ji Zhuosheng had asked Jiang Lin for help to persuade Ji Minglun, but Jiang Lin knew Ji Minglun well. Instead of adding to Ji Minglun’s troubles, he advised Ji Zhuosheng to be more understanding.
“Not really,” Ji Minglun scoffed. “He said I could go after I graduate.”
Looking at Ji Minglun’s cold expression, Jiang Lin felt uneasy. From what he knew, Ji Minglun wouldn’t go, but his understanding had stopped a year ago. He wasn’t sure what Ji Minglun thought now.
“Then you don’t want to go, right?”
Ji Minglun looked at Jiang Lin, and noticed his slender eyes showed a hint of subtle probing.
Since Jiang Lin returned, he had noticed this probing more than once. With mixed feelings, he suddenly wanted to hear what Jiang Lin would say when truly drunk. He placed a can of beer in front of him and raised his chin. “You drink first, then I’ll talk.”
Jiang Lin hadn’t finished his own can yet, but he didn’t hesitate, opening the tab and drinking. He paused halfway through to burp and continued, which reminded Ji Minglun of him hiccupping until midnight last night.
Afterward, he didn’t reply to the message, not knowing if he had fallen asleep or if he thought the response of “drink more hot water” was too perfunctory.
Most likely the latter, Ji Minglun thought, lowering his gaze to his clasped hands, soon interrupted by a commotion next to him.
Turning his head, he saw Jiang Lin finishing the beer and then draining his own can. He stood up and walked to the kitchen, bringing back four more cans from the fridge.
It seemed he was determined not to stop drinking, and Ji Minglun began to regret it. If Jiang Lin really got drunk, the unfortunate one would be him—not only would he have to take care of this drunkard, but he’d also have to send him home.
So after Jiang Lin sat down, he took the beer away and said sternly, “Don’t drink anymore.”
“Okay,” Jiang Lin replied straightforwardly. “Then answer me: you don’t want to go, right?”
The two stared at each other. Maybe it was the alcohol, but Jiang Lin’s gaze was much more direct. His dark pupils looked into Ji Minglun’s eyes, unflinching and unaverted, making Ji Minglun’s breath a little unsteady. He had to turn his face away, pressing his left thumb and ring finger to his temples to cover it up.
Jiang Lin didn’t rush him, simply waiting until Ji Minglun nodded, then he sighed in relief.
“Then just refuse to go,” he said, pulling the tab and drinking two more sips of beer. “Compared to my dad, at least your dad can listen to reason.”
With that last remark, Ji Minglun stopped his attempt to restrain Jiang Lin. He watched as he continued to drink half a can before reaching out, saying, “That’s enough. I’ll help you call a car to go back.”
Jiang Lin didn’t respond, leaning back against the sofa and keeping his eyes open, though his gaze was no longer as clear as before.
Ji Minglun tried to pull him up, but he dodged. Jiang Lin took a cushion from behind and shifted his body to lie down.
“I don’t want to move,” he said, looking at Ji Minglun.