The Object of the Wet Dream Is My Brother

The summer in Shancheng Family Courtyard was filled with the sweet and sour aroma of bayberry and the heartless noise of five teenagers. Ning Yu and Tong Xun have been making trouble together since childhood, getting beaten up, climbing over walls and stealing fruits. They are buddies who are stronger than their own brothers. They can even put their arms around each other without changing their expressions, acting like a fake couple in the KTV to fool people. This illusion of "brotherhood" was torn to pieces by Ning Yu himself in front of a love letter handed to Tong Xun. On the sidelines of the basketball court, in full view of everyone, Ning Yu, like a trapped beast that was completely enraged, grabbed the dazzling love letter and tore it into pieces. He pulled the confused Tong Xun over and kissed her hard. His lips and teeth collided, causing pain to spread. "You accept everything others give you? What about me? Who am I?!" Tong Xun's head was buzzing, and the pain on his lips was far less alarming than the pain in Ning Yu's eyes. He pushed Ning Yu away and fled in a hurry amid the dead silence and explosive discussion. The two people who were once inseparable pushed each other further and further away. After the college entrance examination, they went their separate ways, and the farewell bell was about to ring. The old bayberry tree that had witnessed their entire absurd youth had its branches bent under the weight of its fruits. Ning Yu blocked Tong Xun, and the moonlight fell on his tense face. "Tong Xun." "I like you! Not like a brother!" "It's the kind of love where I want to kiss you and hug you... I want to be with you from now on!" The chirping of cicadas is deafening, and the heartbeat is like a drum. Tong Xun looked at the reckless and stubborn young man in front of him. He picked up the plumpest bayberry and stuffed it into Ning Yu's mouth. "It's so sour..." Tong Xun turned away, his ears burning red, "Next time, pick something sweet." The taxi started to take off, and inside and outside the car window, the two hands were tightly clasped, and then slowly released. Youth is an unripe fruit, and we are all waiting for it to turn sweet, even if what we wait for is the moment it detaches and turns into mud. . . . Intention: Brother, you smell so good