Orange Storm chapter 62
Confession
“I like you.”
There’s no need for others to like you because I already like you enough.
After playing dumb for such a long time, in this seemingly inappropriate moment for a confession, he unexpectedly said it.
In an instant, the explosions of fireworks, the distant voices of people, and laughter all seemed to drift away from them. Jiang Zhijin and Fang Xing stood still, and when their eyes met, it felt like they were in a completely independent space, one that belonged only to them.
Jiang Zhijin looked at Fang Xing and suddenly burst into laughter after a moment.
“… Impressive,” Jiang Zhijin chuckled. “I thought you’d need more time.”
“I thought you’d need a bit more time too,” Fang Xing said.
Speaking cautiously, talking across a line without breaking the final barrier…
But just a moment ago, perhaps because of the comforting atmosphere or Jiang Zhijin’s seemingly good mood, or more importantly, when he said, “Someone likes you,” Jiang Zhijin suddenly asked who.
Anyway, for all these messy reasons, Fang Xing couldn’t be bothered to pretend anymore. The previous “a boy likes a man” had finally turned into something straightforward today—
“Fang Xing likes Jiang Zhijin.”
Fang Xing let out a breath, feeling a sudden lightness.
Since it had come to this, whether Jiang Zhijin continued to consider, rejected directly, or got angry… that was it. Let things happen as they may.
At this moment, the two playfully teased each other, and Jiang Zhijin laughed for a long time before finally speaking.
“Your confession timing is really… unexpected,” Jiang Zhijin paused and asked, “Was that considered a confession?”
If Fang Xing said it wasn’t, he would definitely get a slap today, a real one.
Fang Xing immediately answered, “Yes.”
“…This is the first time I’ve seen someone use a bouquet for a confession. Quite original,” Jiang Zhijin said. “Do you know how many people were waiting to catch the bouquet just now?”
“I know,” Fang Xing smiled. “But I wanted to give it to you.”
Many people were waiting to catch a bouquet, but Fang Xing, who caught it, only wanted to give it to Jiang Zhijin.
Or maybe, while many were looking for the right man or woman to date and marry, Fang Xing only needed to meet Jiang Zhijin.
Jiang Zhijin laughed for a long time and finally spoke.
“I’m ten years older than you, Fang Xing.”
Jiang Zhijin restrained his laughter. His tone was neither hurried nor slow, and his expression was very serious.
“Ten years is not just a number,” Jiang Zhijin looked at Fang Xing. “It means that when you haven’t graduated from college, I’ll be over thirty. When you’re working, I’ll probably be contemplating retirement, and when you’re in your prime and might still be playing basketball on weekends, I should be in the park playing chess with a group of old men.”
Eighteen is just the beginning of life, with a long journey ahead before reaching its end. This age is equivalent to hope, a beautiful future, and infinite possibilities. Jiang Zhijin was afraid of stifling such possibilities.
Fang Xing remained silent for a few seconds and asked, “Will you still play chess then?”
“Do you understand the key point?” Jiang Zhijin looked at Fang Xing.
Fang Xing smiled for a while before speaking again, “I understand.”
“It means that when you’re seventy, I’ll be sixty. We’ll probably have to accompany each other to play chess, take a stroll, dance in the square, and then go home together.”
Two old men, each with a walking stick—oh, maybe they won’t need walking sticks by then. Two little old men holding hands, walking home together.
Not bad.
“…It sounds quite beautiful.” Jiang Zhijin chuckled and sighed.
“You’re thinking too much.” Fang Xing said. “Can we just focus on the present?”
Jiang Zhijin laughed without saying anything.
Just focus on the present; Fang Xing had just turned 18 and hadn’t taken the college entrance exam yet. Zhou Ling knew about this, and Fang Xing estimated that if she found out, she might kill the pervert who tempted her son to be gay.
“Just focus on the present.” Fang Xing stared at Jiang Zhijin. “I like you, that’s all.”
What will happen next, what will happen decades later, how people around will react… Those are things for the future.
“I had thought about how to confess, preferably at home, on your birthday or some special occasion, a face-to-face confession… But just now, I suddenly couldn’t hold it in,” Fang Xing said.
Fang Xing probably felt a bit embarrassed, smiled for a moment, and then continued.
“I just suddenly felt that I really like you.”
How to plan the confession no longer mattered. The heartbeat of this moment was forever the most romantic, and he felt it was worth saying “I like you” while holding a bouquet.
The fireworks had already finished. People nearby were cheering and clapping, then slowly dispersing.
Jiang Zhijin looked at Fang Xing, and didn’t speak or move for quite a while. Some people had already walked past them, and Jiang Zhijin turned to glance at them before looking back at Fang Xing.
Then, he sighed deeply.
“Let’s go; it’s over.”
Fang Xing’s heart suddenly sank, as if falling into a bottomless abyss, continuously descending.
Does this count as rejection? Maybe not, as Jiang Zhijin hasn’t said anything. But the meaning was quite obvious; not agreeing is a rejection—
Fang Xing’s mind was in a mess. Before he could finish thinking, in the next second, Jiang Zhijin reached out and took the bouquet from him.
Fang Xing: “…”
His heart hadn’t sunk to the ground yet, and it was instantly lifted up again. Fang Xing’s brain was really in chaos this time. He stared at Jiang Zhijin for a few seconds, and finally spoke, “No, what do you mean?”
His throat was a bit hoarse from being scared.
“…Your comprehension ability is still not worthy of being a top student.” Jiang Zhijin first froze for a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh.
“It means, you confessed, and I accepted.” Jiang Zhijin said.
What the future holds, how to explain to Zhou Ling, the mess in Fang Xing’s family… he’ll figure out a way to solve it himself.
As Fang Xing said, just focus on the present.
—Just focusing on the present, in this moment, Jiang Zhijin was moved by 18-year-old Fang Xing.
Fang Xing stared at Jiang Zhijin fixedly, then suddenly turned his head swiftly and muttered, “Oh my god.”
…Jiang Zhijin couldn’t help but laugh, “What’s with that reaction?”
“It’s just… quite sudden. I was prepared to be rejected.” Fang Xing’s throat was a bit hoarse. “I’m a bit dizzy.”
“Control your emotions; it’s still someone else’s wedding. Get dizzy after we get home.” Jiang Zhijin smiled, looked down at the time, “I still have to go to Cloud Seven. Can we leave now, Xiao Xing?”
“…Can you temporarily stop calling me that?” Fang Xing’s mind was still a bit dizzy, and his nose felt a bit sour. Hearing Jiang Zhijin’s words, the moment of emotion was relieved quite a bit. While walking out together with Jiang Zhijin, he spoke.
“Every time you call me that, I feel like you’re calling me your son.”
Jiang Zhijin laughed for a long time and finally cleared his throat, quickly saying, “Alright, Fang Xing, boyfriend.”