Try Again chapter 10

Are You Feeling Better?

Grabbing Jiang Lin’s arm, Ji Minglun tried to push him away, but as soon as he applied pressure, Jiang Lin’s legs gave way, and he almost collapsed. Ji Minglun immediately held him by the waist, pulling him back into his arms.

“Jiang Lin,” Ji Minglun called his name through gritted teeth, “Stand on your own.”

Jiang Lin didn’t respond, his head limply resting on Ji Minglun’s shoulder. With no way to let go, Ji Minglun turned around and hoisted him onto his back.

Jiang Lin’s head hung loosely to the side, his alcohol-laced breath brushing past Ji Minglun’s face again. The closeness inevitably triggered memories of that night. He warned himself not to think too much, lifted his leg, and headed for the stairs.

Unlike his apartment in a high-rise with an elevator, Jiang Lin lived in an old building left by his mother. Though it was in the city center, the building was over thirty years old and had no elevator. By the time Ji Minglun had carried Jiang Lin to the seventh floor, he was drenched in sweat.

Jiang Lin remained sound asleep. Ji Minglun sat him down in the stairwell corner, leaning him against the wall. He patted Jiang Lin’s thighs, found the keys in one of his pockets, and unlocked the door.

When the lights flickered on, Ji Minglun closed his eyes briefly. Once adjusted to the brightness, he looked around.

The apartment hadn’t changed much in the past year. Unlike other homes filled with warmth and decor, this place felt oddly empty.

Looking at the vacant living room, Ji Minglun turned back to the door, his gaze falling on Jiang Lin, still asleep against the wall.

Not wanting to overthink whether Jiang Lin was truly drunk or pretending, Ji Minglun walked over, turned around, and crouched down to carry him back into the room, placing him on the bed.

Jiang Lin remained limp as Ji Minglun carried him, but when Ji Minglun tried to help him lie down, Jiang Lin grabbed his arm and pulled, causing Ji Minglun to topple onto him.

As Ji Minglun fell, he supported himself with one hand, avoiding putting his full weight on Jiang Lin. However, their hips bumped together.

Jiang Lin winced as Ji Minglun’s hip bone pressed into him, his eyes reddening with the pain. Hearing a muffled groan, Ji Minglun quickly propped himself up to check on him.

Jiang Lin had turned his face to the side, his long, narrow eyes tightly shut, and his hair hung over his flushed ears. Seeing him biting his lip in pain, Ji Minglun wanted to ask him if he was alright but hesitated, remembering their awkward relationship.

Even though he didn’t say it out loud, his gaze was direct. Through Jiang Lin’s closed eyelids, there was no way to avoid it.

Despite the alcohol in his system, Jiang Lin still raised his arm to cover his face, not wanting Ji Minglun to see his embarrassment.

After a moment, Ji Minglun quietly asked, “Are you feeling better?”

Jiang Lin nodded slightly. Ji Minglun moved to get up, but Jiang Lin held onto the back of his shirt.

Looking back, Ji Minglun saw Jiang Lin still covering most of his face with his arm, his lips slightly parted as he whispered, “I want some water.”

…

While boiling water in the kitchen, Ji Minglun leaned his right shoulder against the cold brick wall, his mind replaying the scene that had just unfolded.

Jiang Lin’s lips had been so close, and even though he hadn’t actively thought about it, his subconscious reminded him of how complicated things had been on Jiang Lin’s birthday last year.

And whether it was just his imagination or not, Jiang Lin seemed… different tonight compared to that time last year.

He couldn’t find the right word to describe it, though perhaps it was because he had also been drinking, his thoughts muddled. Or maybe it was because he still harbored unspoken desires toward Jiang Lin, which led him to misread the situation.

“Impossible.”

He warned himself in his mind not to overthink. Once the kettle’s light went off, he poured the boiling water into a mug, then mixed in half a bottle of mineral water. After putting the bottle down, he glanced around the kitchen.

Jiang Lin had been away for over a year, and it was clear the house hadn’t been cleaned during that time. Otherwise, the water filter machine wouldn’t have been left unreplaced, forcing him to stock up on large bottles of mineral water.

Carrying the cup, he opened the bedroom door. Jiang Lin was still lying in bed, not having moved. The air conditioner was running, alleviating some of the room’s stifling heat. He closed the door and walked over. Hearing the sound, Jiang Lin opened his eyes, weakly asking, “Could you help me get some stomach medicine?”

Placing the cup on the bedside table, he asked, “Stomach ache?”

“A bit.” Jiang Lin’s complexion had worsened, and as he propped himself up on the edge of the bed, his hand rested on his stomach, holding it.

Ji Minglun went to the cabinet in the living room where the medicine was stored, found Jiang Lin’s stomach medicine, and noticed a lot of other medication as well. He randomly picked up a few boxes to check, only to find that they had expired, likely left behind when Jiang Lin had gone abroad.

After giving the stomach medicine to him and watching him swallow it with water, Ji Minglun’s gaze lingered on the small blisters on Jiang Lin’s fingers for a moment, and he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s going on with the eczema on your hand?”

Jiang Lin gripped the mug a bit tighter and said casually, “It’s nothing, just not used to the climate over there.”

“How long has it been?” Ji Minglun asked again.

Jiang Lin took a sip of water, then looked up and replied, “What?”

“The eczema.”

Ji Minglun’s tone remained calm, devoid of much emotion, but for Jiang Lin, even this was a rare concern. He replied, “It flares up off and on. It’s worse in spring and summer, but it gets much better in autumn and winter.”

“Can’t it be cured?”

“It’s environmental. The doctor said it’s also due to my own stress. If I can’t resolve it, I just have to keep a calm mind and take medicine to manage it.”

After Jiang Lin finished speaking, Ji Minglun still didn’t withdraw his gaze, his silent demeanor making it hard to guess what he was thinking. Jiang Lin began to feel nervous and took another sip of water.

The warm liquid flowed down his chest and into his stomach, soothing the faint stabbing pain. Just as he was thinking of changing the subject, Ji Minglun put his hands back in his pockets and said, “You should rest. I’m leaving.”

Seeing him turn to leave, Jiang Lin instinctively reached out with his left hand and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt.

Ji Minglun didn’t move. Jiang Lin tightened his grip slightly, but Ji Minglun, sensing Jiang Lin’s reluctance to let go, reached back, pulled his fingers away, and turned around.

Jiang Lin stared at the wrist Ji Minglun had grasped, expecting him to let go, but instead, Ji Minglun only loosened his grip slightly, still holding on as if unsure whether to release him.

The water in the cup was no longer trembling as much as before. Jiang Lin struggled to control the chaos in his chest, gathering himself before he could say anything. But just as he uttered the word “I,” Ji Minglun’s phone rang, cutting off the moment.

His emotions were interrupted by the rock music ringtone. Ji Minglun let go of his hand and answered the call in front of him.

Jiang Lin’s now-released hand fell limply against the edge of the bed. His wrist tingled slightly, and even after Ji Minglun hung up, Jiang Lin’s attention remained focused on the lingering warmth from Ji Minglun’s grasp.

“The driver is rushing me,” Ji Minglun said. “I’m leaving.”

Without asking what Jiang Lin had been about to say, Ji Minglun glanced at Jiang Lin’s right hand hanging by the bed, waited for no reply, and made no effort to stay any longer. This time, however, when he reached the door, Jiang Lin spoke again.

“Minglun.”

Ji Minglun gripped the doorknob, its metallic surface cold and hard. The contrast made him recall the warmth and softness of Jiang Lin’s face when it had pressed against his moments ago. Letting out a breath toward the door, he turned and asked, “What is it?”

Jiang Lin looked at him. “If I work at your café, will you be mad?”

Ji Minglun replied, “Since you know I might get mad, why do it?”

The mug Jiang Lin had been holding was placed back on the bedside table. He smiled, but the smile held a trace of weariness.

“If I don’t, we’d have even fewer chances to see each other, right?”