Try Again chapter 16
Letting Go
Compared to the last time he got drunk, Jiang Lin seemed more relaxed tonight, showing hints of how they used to interact.
Ji Minglun kept his fingers resting on Jiang Lin’s shoulder, looking down at his eyes. He felt that Jiang Lin was hesitating to speak, and he seemed unwilling to be looked at this way. He quickly closed his eyes, cutting off their gaze.
Standing up straight, Ji Minglun glanced at the clock on the wall.
It was already past three. At this hour, there weren’t many people on the streets, so forcing Jiang Lin to go back really wasn’t necessary. Besides, he had extra rooms available here.
Walking into the guestroom, Ji Minglun adjusted the air conditioning to low wind mode and returned to the sofa. “If you don’t want to leave, you can sleep in the guest room.”
Jiang Lin showed no intention of getting up, raising his right arm to block his eyes. “I can just sleep on the sofa.”
The sofa in Ji Minglun’s home was one they had picked out together. They had browsed through several furniture stores before choosing this model, and it had taken over two months just to wait for it to arrive. In terms of comfort, this genuine leather sofa rivaled the two-thousand-dollar mattress in the master bedroom. Jiang Lin used to like lying on the sofa to watch movies right after showering.
Ji Minglun didn’t insist. He walked over to the touch switch and turned off all the lights in the living room, leaving only a small wall lamp leading to the bathroom corner.
With the large living room dimmed, the night enveloped the figures on the sofa. Ji Minglun glanced at the spot where Jiang Lin lay, put on his slippers, and walked toward the master bedroom. As he pushed open the bedroom door, his shoulder accidentally brushed against the end of the dream catcher hanging on the doorframe.
A light and crisp sound of the dream catcher rang out. Ji Minglun raised his hand and caught it, and as it stopped, Jiang Lin’s voice came from the other side of the sofa.
“Minglun.”
Ji Minglun stood sideways, bathed in the light of the bedroom. He couldn’t see Jiang Lin clearly, nor was he sure if Jiang Lin was looking at him. He only sensed that Jiang Lin seemed hesitant, and after a moment, he heard him say, “Actually, over the past year, I’ve often thought about the past.”
Ji Minglun didn’t respond, but he didn’t close the door either, which gave Jiang Lin a bit of courage. Supporting himself on the sofa, Jiang Lin sat up and looked distantly at the person bathed in light.
“I don’t know what you think now, but I—I really want to fix our relationship.”
“Please, just give me a chance.”
The response was still silence, and just as Jiang Lin’s heart began to race, almost choking him, he finally heard Ji Minglun speak.
Unfortunately, it was only, “Get some sleep.” Before Jiang Lin could say more, Ji Minglun released the dream catcher, turned, and closed the door to the master bedroom.
The dreamcatcher, which had been released, still swayed slightly, but it could no longer produce its clear, crisp sound. The room fell into darkness again, and Jiang Lin kept looking at the door, though the person behind it was no longer visible, and even the dreamcatcher was now a blur.
His fingers, which had been gripping the cold leather of the sofa cushion, relaxed, and he leaned back again. Scenes from when they bought that dreamcatcher together flashed before his eyes.
It was when Ji Minglun was preparing for his new apartment. Besides dragging Jiang Lin along to look at renovation plans and choose furniture, Ji Minglun was also selecting decorations for the house.
Both of them, being men, lacked an eye for decorative pieces, and after wandering around a furniture store, none of the items introduced by the salesperson caught their interest. Later, Chen Nidan, during a charity sale for student aid, had some unsold handmade items and asked Jiang Lin for help, so he bought the remaining items.
Jiang Lin wasn’t interested in most of the small handmade ornaments and had Chen Nidan distribute them to people who wanted them. Only one dreamcatcher, gray with white feathers and inscribed with “May your wishes come true,” was kept.
Chen Nidan said that the classmate who made the dreamcatcher had taken it to a temple to be blessed. Ji Minglun was next to him at the time, and after hearing this, he took it from Jiang Lin’s hands and hung it on the bedroom door frame. It remained there ever since, never thrown away.
After over half an hour of random thoughts in the living room, Jiang Lin finally succumbed to the aftereffects of alcohol and fell asleep. When Ji Minglun got up to use the bathroom and saw him, Jiang Lin was curled up in a corner of the sofa, as if cold.
The air conditioner in the living room was set to 26°C, Jiang Lin’s preferred temperature. He never liked using blankets while sleeping. When Ji Minglun approached, he saw that Jiang Lin had his arms crossed, his skin cold to the touch, so he returned to the bedroom, fetched a blanket, and covered him, adjusting the air conditioner a degree higher.
After doing all this, Ji Minglun went to the kitchen to get a drink of water. He didn’t turn on the lights and moved quietly, but as he walked back to the living room, he heard Jiang Lin speaking.
The sound was vague, and he couldn’t make out what was being said. He leaned closer, bending down to listen, but it sounded more like a moan.
Puzzled, Ji Minglun furrowed his brows, trying to figure out what was happening, and then he heard Jiang Lin let out a soft gasp. The sound, a whisper from the back of his throat, was like a cat in heat, purring softly in the night.
That’s when Ji Minglun realized—Jiang Lin was having that kind of dream.
His throat, still moist from drinking water, suddenly felt dry. His expression grew complicated as he looked at the man before him. He didn’t know who Jiang Lin was dreaming about that could make him breathe so softly. Could it be someone he liked?
As this thought crossed his mind, Ji Minglun’s face darkened even further.
His fingertips brushed against the corner of Jiang Lin’s eye, lightly stroking the soft eyelashes. The sleeping man seemed to feel the tickle and shuddered, lifting a hand to grab Ji Minglun’s fingers.
Thinking Jiang Lin had woken up, Ji Minglun was startled and tried to pull his hand away, but Jiang Lin simply rested his cheek against his hand and didn’t move.
Ji Minglun stared at him for a while and, after confirming that Jiang Lin wasn’t actually awake, squatted down, supporting himself on the cold floor with his left hand.
His right hand, trapped under Jiang Lin’s face, felt the warmth and smoothness of his skin. The last time they had such close contact was on the last night of their graduation.
Back then, he had pinned Jiang Lin against the wall, kissing him on the lips. While kissing his lips, his fingers had caressed Jiang Lin’s smooth face and neck. Jiang Lin hadn’t responded, but Ji Minglun could tell he was scared stiff, holding his breath, until Ji Minglun’s tongue easily parted his teeth and touched his soft tongue. Then, like someone waking from a dream, Jiang Lin had suddenly pushed him away.
They had grown up together, so Ji Minglun was sure that had been Jiang Lin’s first kiss.
Thinking back now, he realized how many favors he had received from Jiang Lin over the years. By growing up together, he had gotten countless “firsts” from Jiang Lin.
Especially that secret of Jiang Lin’s first wet dream in his bed. Jiang Lin had been flustered, his face beet red, an image that was still etched deeply in Ji Minglun’s mind. Six months later, after half persuading and half coaxing him, they’d discussed what it felt like to use his hands. It turned out that Jiang Lin wasn’t used to it and found the act awkward, which led to frequent “accidents” while he slept.
Then there was Jiang Lin’s late voice change.
Jiang Lin was four months younger than Ji Minglun, and his voice cracked later, after his first wet dream. Ji Minglun still remembered one early Saturday morning when Jiang Lin called him, struggling to speak. At the time, Jiang Lin’s mother hadn’t passed away yet but was in a long coma from chemotherapy. It wasn’t until Ji Minglun took him to the doctor that they realized the issue was just his voice changing.
Thinking about how Jiang Lin had relied on him for everything back then, Ji Minglun couldn’t help but sigh.
Falling in love with Jiang Lin was an accident. Without that accident, they would still be close friends who shared everything. Now that Jiang Lin had come back and was actively trying to repair their friendship, maybe Jiang Lin simply didn’t want to lose him as a friend. Or maybe Jiang Lin had someone he liked and hoped that he, as his friend, could accept and let go.
Ji Minglun’s fingers, pressed under Jiang Lin’s cheek, had gone numb from the lack of circulation. This sensation was a lot like their current relationship—Jiang Lin was determined to make peace, and he kept resisting. But how much longer could he hold out?
When the summer vacation ends, Jiang Lin would return to Los Angeles, and he had initially chosen journalism because of Jiang Lin. Now, with his graduate studies ending next year, he was unsure about what path to take. In fact, following Ji Zhuosheng abroad wouldn’t be a bad idea either. Leaving this place, no longer being in contact with Jiang Lin, they would gradually drift apart and eventually he wouldn’t think about him as much.
Perhaps they could even return to being friends, occasionally keeping in touch and checking in on each other.
As for the person he liked—
Withdrawing his hand, Ji Minglun pressed his numb fingers against the floor tiles. The warmth from Jiang Lin’s cheek was quickly replaced by the coldness of the marble. He stood up, tucked Jiang Lin in with the blanket once more, then turned and returned to his room.
Before closing the door, he took the dreamcatcher off the door and locked it away in a cabinet.
He had been reluctant to take it down for a long time, but now it was time.
…
Jiang Lin slept on the couch until 10 a.m. and was awakened by the vibration of the watch on his wrist. Turning off the alarm, he stretched, sat up, and immediately saw Ji Minglun busy making breakfast in the kitchen.
He had gotten drunk the night before and had drifted off to sleep afterward. Thinking about how Ji Minglun had actually let him spend the night, Jiang Lin lifted the blanket and stood up. As he was about to put on his slippers, he looked back again.
This blanket was probably something Ji Minglun had covered him with, too.
Suppressing the smile that almost crept up, he smoothed his hair, slipped on his slippers, and walked over cautiously, saying, “Morning.”
“Morning,” Ji Minglun turned around and nodded towards the bathroom, “I prepared a new toothbrush and towel for you, go freshen up first.”
Even though his mind hadn’t fully woken up, Jiang Lin could sense that Ji Minglun’s attitude seemed different. Seeing him frozen in place, Ji Minglun flipped the egg in the pan and urged him again.
Jiang Lin went into the bathroom, and when he came out again, Ji Minglun had already set the cooked noodles on the dining table. He then took off his apron, sat down in the chair on the left, and said, “Come and sit.”
Sitting in the chair on the right, Jiang Lin took the stainless steel chopsticks Ji Minglun handed him, and his eyes moved from the sunny-side-up egg on top of the noodles to Ji Minglun’s face. He watched as Ji Minglun picked up a mouthful of noodles, ate it, took a bite of the egg, and then ate some more noodles.
This plain noodle dish was the breakfast he often had at Ji Minglun’s house before, not only gentle on the stomach but also nutritious, especially the sunny-side-up egg on top.
He liked eggs with a slightly set yolk, but the housekeeper at his home could never get it right—either undercooked or overcooked. Only Ji Minglun could cook them just the way he liked.
Jiang Lin poked the thin egg white with his chopsticks, revealing the orange yolk underneath. Seeing him stare at the noodles without moving, Ji Minglun swallowed his food and asked, “You don’t want it?”
“I do.”
Jiang Lin quickly shook his head and took a big bite of the egg. As the orange yolk dripped from the corner of his mouth, Ji Minglun glanced at him before silently turning away and handing him a napkin.
Jiang Lin took it and wiped his mouth. After finishing the egg, he sipped some of the fragrant broth. The familiar sesame oil flavor stirred his taste buds, but with his mind preoccupied, even the most flavorful food felt like something was missing.
Ji Minglun, seemingly oblivious to his unease, finished his meal in a few quick bites and got up to wash the dishes.
Jiang Lin watched his back. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but when it came to actually speaking, he didn’t know how to begin. Especially with Ji Minglun’s attitude—it was clear there had been a shift, but he feared it might just be his own misunderstanding. After all, Ji Minglun had eaten breakfast, so maybe he had simply made an extra bowl for him with no other meaning behind it.
After finishing his noodles, Jiang Lin carried his bowl over to where Ji Minglun was washing dishes. Hearing his footsteps, Ji Minglun reached out, took his bowl and chopsticks, and rinsed them under the water.
Jiang Lin lingered for a moment, seeing how focused Ji Minglun was on washing the dishes and not seeming like he wanted to talk. He returned to the living room but, on his way to the couch, noticed that the dreamcatcher from the master bedroom door frame was gone.
Turning back, he asked, “Did you put away the dreamcatcher?”
Draining the last bowl, Ji Minglun turned off the faucet. The sound of running water ceased, and the room fell quiet.
He didn’t respond immediately. After removing his gloves, he turned around, leaning against the sink, and looked at Jiang Lin.
“Yeah, I threw it away since it was no longer useful.”
Ji Minglun’s tone was calm, but not in the cold way it used to be. His gaze was free of impatience, yet Jiang Lin’s expression instantly changed, and he started walking toward the kitchen.
Realizing he was about to check the trash bin in the cabinet, Ji Minglun grabbed his hand and said, “I threw it in the downstairs trash bin this morning. It’s already been taken away.”
“Why throw it away? If you didn’t want it, you could’ve given it to me!”
Jiang Lin’s voice changed, upset. There were so few things left in this apartment that had anything to do with him, and if even the dreamcatcher was gone—
In contrast to Jiang Lin’s teary-eyed urgency, Ji Minglun’s expression remained unusually calm. “I’ve let go of that a long time ago. Holding on to things from the past isn’t appropriate anymore. We can be friends in the future, but let’s not talk about the past.”
Author’s note:
He has to let go of the past before he can start loving him again.