Xiang Xi had already swallowed the milk, but he still choked a bit, trying hard not to cough too wildly.

“Still got some time, want to stroll through the mall?” Cheng Boyan smiled and looked at him.

“Why go to the mall?” Xiang Xi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You usually just go to the supermarket for groceries, right?”

Cheng Boyan didn’t reply immediately, glanced at Xiang Xi’s hand, sighed, and grabbed a wet tissue to wipe it clean. Only then did he continue: “I’m buying clothes. You can give me some advice.”

“You’re buying clothes too?” Xiang Xi widened his eyes. “Do you even have room in your wardrobe? You wear your white coat every day, and nobody sees the vest underneath, so why buy more?”

“Just looking,” Cheng Boyan smiled. “It’s too early to go to the restaurant now.”

“Alright… fine then.” Xiang Xi nodded.

The mall wasn’t far from the restaurant, just across a street, but this area was the hub of nightlife, and the parking lot was almost full at this hour. They queued for a while before finding a spot.

Cheng Boyan led Xiang Xi straight to the fourth floor men’s clothing section. After a quick browse, Xiang Xi frowned: “You might as well go to a wholesale market when you have time in a few days.”

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Boyan picked up a t-shirt to look at.

“The price tags are way too arbitrary,” Xiang Xi said, glancing at the tag on the t-shirt in Cheng Boyan’s hand. “This torn t-shirt is over two hundred yuan—my heart almost had a seizure, and this is considered cheap… mine cost only thirty.”

“Different quality,” Cheng Boyan casually compared the t-shirt to Xiang Xi’s. “Buying one of these is worth ten of yours.”

“Why!” Xiang Xi stepped back, glaring at him. “I don’t want it.”

“I didn’t ask if you wanted it,” Cheng Boyan picked up another item.

“I have enough clothes. I wear uniforms at work,” Xiang Xi was starting to understand Cheng Boyan’s intention, a little anxious, mainly worried about money. “After work, I don’t even go out.”

“I’ve been bored of seeing you in just two shirts this summer,” Cheng Boyan said, picking two t-shirts and heading toward the pants section. “I think the clothes here are pretty good; just buy them all.”

The salesperson noticed the clothes Cheng Boyan held and came over to introduce some pants.

“Don’t come over!” Xiang Xi quickly blocked him. “Don’t come over!”

“Feel free to choose,” the salesperson paused and smiled.

“You like this?” Cheng Boyan asked, holding a pair of ripped jeans. “Stop dawdling—finally got some time to shop.”

Xiang Xi looked at the jeans in his hand but said nothing.

“I just want to buy you two pieces,” Cheng Boyan said softly. “I don't buy them every day. Don’t you know you wear out clothes fast?”

“Huh?” Xiang Xi was startled.

“The sleeves are all fraying, didn’t you notice?” Cheng Boyan tugged his sleeve. “I just want two good-quality pieces that can withstand your wear.”

Xiang Xi looked at his own clothes’ sleeves. Indeed, not only were the edges fraying, some were even slightly torn. Maybe he’d been too rough washing them.

Previously, he had never cared about such details—if he had money, he bought new; if not, he wore the old ones, even if favourites got holes.

Looking at Cheng Boyan’s meticulous appearance, always neat and clean whether formal or casual, he hesitated: “Really buying them?”

“Yeah, just one pair of pants, two t-shirts. How about it?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Well…” Xiang Xi looked at the jeans and picked another style beside it. “This one, I don’t like ripped ones.”

“I thought you liked these,” Cheng Boyan put down the ripped pair. “You used to dress pretty… studded boots and all, so cool.”

“You still remember? Those boots were only sixty yuan… don’t like them now,” Xiang Xi smiled. Yes, he didn’t like them now. He just wanted clean, neat, and proper, like Cheng Boyan. “I don’t want ripped ones.”

“Then this one it is,” Cheng Boyan picked up the one Xiang Xi chose. “Try it on, this size should fit.”

“How do you…” Xiang Xi stopped mid-sentence, took the pants, and walked to the fitting room.

Cheng Boyan quickly answered: “Because I’ve seen it before.”

Xiang Xi glared at him fiercely, and Cheng Boyan leaned against the shelf, smiling for a long while.

The pants fit well. Cheng Boyan had been pretty accurate. Xiang Xi stood in front of the mirror, examining them.

“Does the waist fit?” the salesperson asked, squatting to pull the pant legs. “These pants really show leg shape, look great in this style, and you don’t need to alter the length. Perfect, your legs are really long.”

Xiang Xi said nothing, suddenly feeling a little proud.

Now this is what long legs really look like!

When the salesperson left to prepare the receipt, he stretched his legs toward Cheng Boyan: “Long, right?”

“Long,” Cheng Boyan nodded while taking out his wallet. “Let me touch it ?”

“Are you crazy!” Xiang Xi quickly glanced back at the salesperson.

Cheng Boyan went to pay, came back, and Xiang Xi was already wearing the new pants and t-shirt. He asked, “Wearing them already?”

“Yeah,” Xiang Xi nodded and leaned close to whisper, “Are you afraid I’ll embarrass you later?”

“No,” Cheng Boyan looked at him. “I never thought that. When you think you’re embarrassing yourself, I don’t either.”

Xiang Xi smiled. He believed Cheng Boyan was honest, which is why he had been so at ease saying “Sha County” in front of his friends before.

This confidence was in his bones. He watched Cheng Boyan waiting for the salesperson to pack the clothes. Even with a fifty-yuan 2G phone, Cheng Boyan could play confidently and casually.

Xiang Xi suddenly felt a little proud.

***

This dinner wasn’t as crowded as his birthday dinner. Four or five people; the pretty Xiao Lang wasn’t there, but Chen Pang looked very familiar. Seeing Xiang Xi, he waved: “Xiao Xiang! You’re here!”

“Why does that sound so awkward?” Song Yi leaned on his chair, playing with his phone. “Xiao Xiang’s here, is your dad, Big Elephant, here too?”

“He’s here,” Cheng Boyan answered.

Everyone laughed instantly. Xiang Xi chuckled along. Cheng Boyan really was something!

“See,” Song Yi nudged Lin He with his elbow. “I told you, the size of his face alone could cover half a stadium (NT: meaning he is shameless).”

Chen Pang was treating them, saying it was to celebrate recovering from recent troubles.

Xiang Xi no longer felt uneasy like last time. He mostly listened and laughed along occasionally.

Although he couldn’t join many conversations, he felt comfortable and stable, unconsciously filling his stomach.

“Song Yi’s room will handle the singing later,” Lin He tapped his cup. “When shall we move over there?”

“Now’s fine,” Chen Pang said. “Are you full? If not, we can order two more dishes.”

“I’m full to the brim,” Lin He said.

Everyone else said they were full. Chen Pang looked at Xiang Xi: “Xiao Xiang, are you full? You’re the youngest, still growing, you need to eat enough. Don’t try to keep slim like them.”

“Full,” Xiang Xi looked at Chen Pang’s round face and felt like laughing. “Very full.”

“Don’t listen to Brother Chen,” Song Yi said, patting Chen Pang’s belly. “He’s been growing non stop. Even now, he’s still a youth.”

After leaving the restaurant, the others who drank alcohol took Lin He’s car to the karaoke spot. Cheng Boyan took Xiang Xi to fetch the car.

“How’s it going? Feeling uncomfortable?” Cheng Boyan put his arm around Xiang Xi’s shoulders as they entered the parking lot.

“Pretty good,” Xiang Xi smiled. “Stuffed.”

“Let me feel your belly,” Cheng Boyan said, rubbing his stomach. “Pretty flat.”

Xiang Xi puffed his belly: “Stuffed.”

“Ah! You scared me,” Cheng Boyan rubbed again. “Easy to contract and relax.”

“Just like your face,” Xiang Xi said. “Dad.”

“Holding grudges?” Cheng Boyan laughed.

“Not grudges, just can’t resist your endless teasing,” Xiang Xi clicked his tongue.

“Still want to take advantage,” Cheng Boyan leaned toward his ear and kissed it lightly.

The whisper close to his ear and the soft touch on his earlobe sent a shiver down Xiang Xi’s spine. He almost staggered, barely steadying himself at the car.

“What are you thinking?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Nothing.” Xiang Xi leaned against the car door, shaking his head. Cheng Boyan was very close, and he could feel Cheng Boyan’s warmth.

“I…” Cheng Boyan moved closer. “Forget it.”

“Forget what?” Xiang Xi asked with difficulty. Cheng Boyan’s breath was on his face, the scent of lemon enveloped him. Xiang Xi found himself unexpectedly anticipating Cheng Boyan’s soft, wet lips.

“No reports anymore,” Cheng Boyan said, sliding his hand from Xiang Xi’s waist to behind him, pulling him close, pressing his lips against his.

Xiang Xi’s breath paused, but when Cheng Boyan’s tongue lightly touched his lips and probed inside, he didn’t hesitate at all, naturally and expectantly responding.

Cheng Boyan’s hands caressed his back, the hot warmth passing through him. Xiang Xi raised his hands and grabbed Cheng Boyan’s neck, their tongues entwining.

The kiss was a bit short. When Cheng Boyan released his lips, Xiang Xi followed up with a few licks.

“Xiang Xi,” Cheng Boyan whispered, still holding him, kissing his earlobe, down to his neck. “I really like you.”

Xiang Xi shivered lightly. Cheng Boyan kissed his shoulder, whispering by his ear: “I dare not say heavier things, I’m afraid of scaring you, but I can’t hold it in anymore…”

Xiang Xi said nothing, opening his eyes, looking at the lights above, feeling dizzy.

Cheng Boyan’s lips lingered on his collarbone, moving upward—neck, chin, lips, finally resting on the beauty mark at his eye corner: “I like this mole.”

“I…” Xiang Xi opened his mouth, unsure what to say.

As he tried to pull back his scattered thoughts, he felt warmth and wetness at the corner of his eye, leaning against the car door, nearly collapsing.

Cheng Boyan gently licked the mole.

Afterward, whatever else Cheng Boyan said or if they exchanged glances, Xiang Xi didn’t remember.

“Feeling hot?” Cheng Boyan finally brought him back from daze, noticing him covered in sweat.

“Not just hot,” Xiang Xi touched his back. “Hot enough I feel like a fountain.”

“Get in the car, I’m sweaty too.” Cheng Boyan opened the door and pushed him in.

After the AC turned on, Xiang Xi exhaled deeply, adjusting the vent toward himself, leaning back, not wanting to move.

“You can’t blow it like that,” Cheng Boyan said, starting the car, adjusting the vent.

“Hot,” Xiang Xi adjusted it again.

“Then take it off,” Cheng Boyan said, adjusting again.

“I still want it blowing on me.” Xiang Xi tried to reach for it, but Cheng Boyan slapped his hand.

“Then take it off first.” Cheng Boyan said.

“Dream on.” Xiang Xi laughed, leaning back, laughing for a long time—even at the parking lot exit.

“Excuse me, sir,” Cheng Boyan lowered the window, handing over the parking card and money. “Do you know the nearest pharmacy?”

“Go north one intersection, there’s a big pharmacy,” the attendant said.

“Thanks.” Cheng Boyan closed the window and drove off.

Xiang Xi finally stopped laughing, turned to him: “You uncomfortable?”

“No, buying for you,” Cheng Boyan glanced at him. “Oh, no laughing now?”

Xiang Xi froze for a moment, then started laughing again inexplicably.

“Did I just kiss you and make you laugh?” Cheng Boyan flicked his forehead.

“I don’t know,” Xiang Xi laughed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, doctor, help me!”

“Foolish illness has no cure,” Cheng Boyan sighed. “Just bury it.”

Xiang Xi, I really like you.

I like this mole.

I really like you.

I like this mole.

Really like you.

Really like you.

Like you.

Like.

Xiang Xi closed his eyes, resting his head sideways against the car window, letting it bump against the glass again and again. He didn’t feel a thing, his mind entirely occupied with what Cheng Boyan had said earlier.

Those words, whispered softly into his ear with low breaths.

Thinking of it now still made his body tingle, itchy, and ache like it had been electrified.

He couldn’t calm down.

***

And it seemed some accidents were happening.

No, some accidents hadn’t even passed yet.

Xiang Xi opened one eye, first glancing at his crotch, then sneakily at Cheng Boyan.

Cheng Boyan was focused on driving, not noticing his movements.

He slowly moved his hand down and tugged at his pants.

Just as he was about to tug a second time, Cheng Boyan suddenly spoke: “Hard, huh?”

Xiang Xi jumped, his hand flinching. Hearing that, a mix of embarrassment and anger surged, and he slapped his own leg: “Can you not scare people! You nearly made me grab my balls!”

“You can tug your pants openly,” Cheng Boyan laughed, tugging his own pants. “Just like this.”

“You’re shameless!” Xiang Xi said.

“What’s shameless about tugging your own pants when you’re hard? You’re not tugging anyone else’s,” Cheng Boyan said, still watching the road, then muttered softly, “Whoa, the pharmacy’s already open… wonder if they sell medicine for shamelessness…”

Xiang Xi turned his head, not knowing what to say. He really hadn’t realized Cheng Boyan was this kind of maniac.

Wearing a white coat, all righteous and polite, every gesture refined and cultured—yet he was such a… nutcase.

After overthinking for a while, the “hot blood flag” in his crotch finally settled.

He exhaled, looked at Cheng Boyan, and couldn’t resist asking: “Were you hard just now?”

“You can check for yourself next time,” Cheng Boyan said.

“Can you even chat properly!” Xiang Xi almost jumped from his seat, shouting.

“Ah! You scared me… hard, huh,” Cheng Boyan laughed. “Do I even need to ask? If this isn’t hard, then I must be sick.”

“Oh.” Xiang Xi quieted down, too embarrassed to look at Cheng Boyan, staring out the window instead.

“Are you singing ‘The birds in the trees come in pairs’ with me later?” Cheng Boyan asked as he parked outside the KTV. 

“No,” Xiang Xi opened the door and jumped out. “You sing ‘Honghu Lake’s waters surge in rolling waves’ yourself.” (NT: from the opera The Red Guards of Honghu (洪湖赤卫队))

“Giving me no face,” Cheng Boyan laughed and got out. “Then will you sing ‘The birds in the trees come in pairs’ yourself?”

“I…” Xiang Xi laughed at him, “I just want to know, are you always like this, or just with me?”

“Like what?” Cheng Boyan put an arm around his shoulders as they walked to the private room.

“Like a maniac,” Xiang Xi said, lightly pinching his finger.

“Only with you,” Cheng Boyan smiled. “With you, I relax. I don’t have to be stiff.”

“So you act like this in front of Director Xu?” Xiang Xi asked, imagining the stern Director Xu.

“Of course not,” Cheng Boyan thought. “Relaxation is different.”

“Got it,” Xiang Xi nodded. “At home is normal relaxation; in front of me, it’s called showing your true self.”

People inside the room had already started singing. Outside, Lin He shouted: “You’re the wind, I’m the sand—”

Then Song Yi’s voice: “I’m not crazy, you’re the dumbest—”

Xiang Xi started laughing—they were so off-key it was like ten thousand mountains apart.

“Here you are!” Lin He saw them entering, holding a microphone. “Thought you two would go make trouble somewhere alone again.”

“You two continue,” Cheng Boyan waved, pulling Xiang Xi to the sofa.

As soon as Xiang Xi sat, Cheng Boyan’s hand reached behind him, slipping under his clothes.

The room was dimly lit, so Xiang Xi wasn’t scared, but he glanced at Cheng Boyan anyway.

“What?” Cheng Boyan’s fingers hooked at his lower back.

“Nothing,” Xiang Xi smiled. “Ticklish.”

“Boyan singing?” Song Yi yelled after finishing an off-key song. “Xiang Xi?”

“Later,” Cheng Boyan smiled, turning to Xiang Xi. “Do you sing?”

“Sure,” Xiang Xi thought, “Honghu Lake’s waters surge in rolling waves.”

“What?” Song Yi hadn’t heard clearly, raising his voice.

“‘Honghu Lake’s waters surge in rolling waves,’” Lin He explained seriously. “Definitely singing it for Boyan.”

Everyone inside laughed heartily.

“Really taking revenge, huh?” Cheng Boyan laughed.

“Forget it,” Xiang Xi stood, walking to Song Yi to check the song list. “Let’s pick an older song.”

“Singing for us old folks?” Lin He sighed dramatically. “Since Xiang Xi arrived, I feel like our ages are jumping up uncontrollably, can’t stop it.”

“Yeah,” Xiang Xi smiled and nodded. “Song Ge, help me pick.”

“Which one?” Song Yi asked.

“‘I Like You.’” Xiang Xi said.

Song Yi raised an eyebrow, smirking at Cheng Boyan.

Xiang Xi looked back too.

“Sing,” Cheng Boyan leaned back on the sofa, a smirk curling his lips.

 

Translator : DarNan