TA • Chapter 16

Jiang Yuduo said nothing. He went around the table and stood beside Cheng Ke, looking at the picture on the table. After a while, he went into the bedroom and carried out Mao, who was asleep.

“Mao,” he pressed Mao’s head down a little, “look, this is the young master’s version of you made with salt. If you think it looks like you, and it’s well drawn, then meow once. If you don’t meow, then he loses.”

“Do you have any shame?” Cheng Ke looked at him.

“Mao, look,” Jiang Yuduo remained unmoved and kept pressing Mao’s head down. “I’ll count to five. If you think it looks like you, you meow. One, two…”

“Mao~~~” Cheng Ke suddenly meowed behind him.

Jiang Yuduo froze.

That sounded pretty accurate? For a second, he almost thought it really was Mao.

Just as he was about to turn around, the Mao he was holding suddenly meowed after Cheng Ke.

Mao.

“Fuck?” He stiffened at once and looked down at Mao. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It meowed,” Cheng Ke said.

Jiang Yuduo tossed Mao onto the sofa and turned around. “You sounded pretty damn close, huh?”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke leaned against the table. “I was afraid of mice. When I was little, I thought learning to meow could protect me.”

“Could it?” Jiang Yuduo was suddenly a little curious.

“No idea. I never had the chance to get into a head-on conflict with a mouse,” Cheng Ke said.

“Oh.” Jiang Yuduo took the bowl from the coffee table, drank the liquor in it, then went back to the table and looked at Mao drawn in salt.

“I’ll count to five, and you’d better come up with a cheating excuse,” Cheng Ke said. “If you can’t, then admit defeat, Third Brother.”

Jiang Yuduo turned to look at him.

“One, two, three,” Cheng Ke counted unhurriedly. “Four…”

Jiang Yuduo suddenly curled one corner of his mouth and smiled at him. “Fine.”

“Five.” Cheng Ke paused, but still finished counting.

“How do you want to play?” Jiang Yuduo still had that smile on his face. His hand moved down, fingers hooking his waistband and tugging it lower.

Cheng Ke felt himself suddenly stall. In terms of shamelessness, he really couldn’t compare with someone like Jiang Yuduo, who probably had been hanging around the streets since the moment he learned how to walk.

He was actually grateful that Jiang Yuduo still had the last thread of reason left. If he tugged it down another inch, Cheng Ke would probably be reliving the earlier naked-running scene.

At first he hadn’t intended to do anything. From the start, neither of them had taken this so-called wager seriously. He’d only said it casually, mocking Jiang Yuduo for being a boss whose first reaction after losing was to grab the cat and drag it into his cheating act.

Now that Jiang Yuduo had asked him that, he suddenly couldn’t find the right level of shamelessness to face it.

If it were Liu Tiancheng and the others, maybe he could have handled it. Sometimes when they got drunk, they played pretty wildly too.

Right, drunk.

Cheng Ke pinched out his cigarette, took the bowl, and drank a mouthful of liquor. If he wasn’t drunk, who the hell would be standing here chatting bullshit with Jiang Yuduo?

“Too scared?” Jiang Yuduo said. “I’ll give you three seconds to think. Miss it and that’s it. I’ll admit defeat, and it’ll be you who’s too scared.”

Cheng Ke glanced at him. The smile at the corner of Jiang Yuduo’s mouth carried disdain and provocation.

So damn annoying.

Cheng Ke picked up the bowl and drank another mouthful.

Fuck your grandstanding.

There was only a shallow bottom left in the bowl, so he simply drained it in one gulp.

Grandstanding my ass.

The smooth liquor traveled from his throat all the way down and warmed his stomach.

He was a useless bastard, sure, but he had never been afraid of anything. In a situation like this, he was even less able to withstand provocation.

He set the bowl down, grabbed Jiang Yuduo’s shoulder, and shoved him hard back onto the sofa.

When Jiang Yuduo hit the couch, that provocative smile was still hanging at the corner of his mouth. “Pretty strong?”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke leaned in, one arm braced against the wall above his head.

Jiang Yuduo seemed about to say something, but Cheng Ke reached out and gripped his neck. His thumb pressed lightly but not gently above Jiang Yuduo’s throat, cutting off the words before they could come out.

When Jiang Yuduo frowned and tried to pry his hand away, Cheng Ke let go, slapped a hand onto his forehead, and when Jiang Yuduo tipped his head back, Cheng Ke kissed him.

The moment their lips met, Cheng Ke could feel Jiang Yuduo lifting a leg and arching his body, then going still.

Fuck.

Still cocky now?

He stayed frozen in that half-raised position until Cheng Ke’s tongue briefly swept across his lips and withdrew.

Cheng Ke wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, stared at him for a few seconds, then turned away, swiped his hand across the table, and pinched up another small handful of salt.

It took Jiang Yuduo a long time to come back to himself. He touched his own lips.

There was still the lingering sensation of Cheng Ke’s lips pressing down on him.

He couldn’t really describe it. He only knew it carried the scent of liquor.

“Fuck,” Jiang Yuduo said, looking at Cheng Ke’s back. “You’re pretty good, damn.”

Cheng Ke said nothing. His hand was moving over the table, tracing shapes.

“That was kind of fast though,” Jiang Yuduo said. “Did you already finish?”

“I haven’t even had time to react yet,” Cheng Ke said without turning around, pinching up more salt and sprinkling it over the table.

“Then you’re no good,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“Third Brother,” Cheng Ke said, “let me give you a piece of advice. When you talk, leave yourself a way out. You provoke me one more time, and I’ll strip you right now. I won’t even wear a condom. You’d better think carefully about whether you’re my match with those two splints still on you.”

Jiang Yuduo said nothing.

To be honest, Cheng Ke that night had been a bit of a surprise to him, no, more than a bit. He had never expected that this young master, who usually didn’t even have much temper when pushed to the edge, could still be in this kind of state after drinking a little.

But after staring at Cheng Ke’s back for a while, he still felt something was off.

“I’ve got a question,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“I was kicked out of the house and didn’t know where else to go,” Cheng Ke said. “I used to come to this area a lot with friends, so I came here. You can also think of it as me coming to dig through a trash can.”

“Not that,” Jiang Yuduo said. He reached for a cigarette and found it was the last one. He took it out and put it between his lips. “You can just go all the way with a guy?”

“Mm,” Cheng Ke nodded. “I have to be facing a guy to go all the way. Facing a woman, I’m calm as a pond.”

Jiang Yuduo’s hand, which was about to light the cigarette, froze in midair.

It wasn’t until Cheng Ke dusted off the salt from his hands, walked over to the side, and poured himself a bowl of liquor to drink that he finally said softly, “Fuck.”

“You didn’t let me draw you?” Cheng Ke said. “It’s done.”

Jiang Yuduo was stunned for a moment, then hurried over to the table. He saw that the earlier Mao had been wiped away until only a tail remained, and now the center of the table was his face.

He wasn’t actually all that familiar with his own face. He saw other people’s faces many times a day, but he only looked at himself twice, morning and night when washing up.

So he couldn’t help but take out his phone, open the front camera, and snap a picture of himself, then set the phone on the table.

“It really is me,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“This is the first time I’ve seen someone need a photo on the spot to confirm whether it’s them,” Cheng Ke said with a sigh.

Jiang Yuduo picked up the phone and took a few more photos of the drawing on the table, then sighed too. “This’ll be gone in a bit, won’t it?”

“Yeah,” Cheng Ke said. “Even if you leave it alone, the salt will dissolve.”

“Then your kind of art is a shame,” Jiang Yuduo said, turning to look at him. “It disappears right after you finish.”

Cheng Ke smiled. “A lot of things are like that. They only exist in the mind.”

Jiang Yuduo said nothing. His vision seemed a little out of focus. In the end, he sat down in the chair, lit the last cigarette, and stared blankly at the drawing on the table.

“I’m sleepy,” Cheng Ke said, collapsing onto the sofa. “What time is it?”

“Almost five,” Jiang Yuduo looked at his phone. “You gonna be able to sleep?”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke pulled the blanket over himself and wrapped it around him in a messy bundle, then rolled over and lay facing the back of the sofa.

Jiang Yuduo stood by the table for a while longer, then reached out and swept the salt all into a clump. After that he went over and turned off the lights in the living room, then lifted Mao out of the blanket bundled by Cheng Ke’s legs and held it in his arms.

“You’re gay?” Jiang Yuduo had taken two steps toward the bedroom when he stopped.

“Yeah,” Cheng Ke said. “If you’re scared, lock the door. After daylight, you can help me get the key and I’ll leave.”

“Is that why you got kicked out of the house?” Jiang Yuduo asked again.

“No,” Cheng Ke said, turning his head to look at him. “If I had even half the promise my younger brother has, I could sleep with a dog and nobody at home would care.”

“…Really?” Jiang Yuduo said.

“My dad said it,” Cheng Ke said, turning back toward the sofa. “In our family, this doesn’t count as a big deal. I’ve lived twenty-seven years for nothing if I can’t even tolerate this.”

Jiang Yuduo didn’t say anything else and went into the bedroom.

Maybe because he’d had a lot to drink and had gone a little wild, his whole body had the soft, loosened feeling that came after letting loose. Once Cheng Ke closed his eyes, he felt his body slowly sink down, relaxed enough to seem like it could melt into the sofa.

He didn’t even have time to savor Jiang Yuduo’s attitude any further before he fell asleep.

He didn’t wake until someone kicked his ass.

The first thing he saw was still the back of the sofa. Unlike when he’d closed his eyes yesterday, he could now see the countless loose threads on the fabric back, probably scratched out by the cat.

He turned his head. In the bright sunlight, Jiang Yuduo and Chen Qing were standing side by side in front of the sofa, looking down at him.

“Fuck,” he said, using his hand to shield the sun. Being watched sleeping by two people in broad daylight was really a little awkward. “What time is it?”

“Ten,” Jiang Yuduo put a set of keys on his pillow. “I’m going to take the splint off now. I left the keys here. You don’t need to bring them back after you lock up. I’ll come by your place to get them when I head back. It’s on the way.”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke, still a little dazed, nodded.

“There’s breakfast on the table,” Chen Qing said. “It’s still hot. Eat when you get up.”

“Thanks,” Cheng Ke said.

Jiang Yuduo closed the door and got into the car with Chen Qing.

Today Chen Qing had brought one of the shop’s Porsches, red.

“How’s that,” Chen Qing said, patting the steering wheel. “I picked a red one to celebrate you taking off the splints.”

“Touched,” Jiang Yuduo rubbed his eyes.

“You had insomnia again last night, huh,” Chen Qing glanced at him. “Still dizzy?”

“Not dizzy,” Jiang Yuduo closed his eyes. “Just a little uncomfortable.”

“If it’s bad, take some sleeping pills or something,” Chen Qing said. “Sister Qian didn’t help you get some? If you can’t sleep, take one.”

“I’m not taking them,” Jiang Yuduo said.

Chen Qing sighed and drove toward the hospital.

“The clinic takes it off,” Jiang Yuduo said, turning to look at him.

“The hospital,” Chen Qing said, biting his lip. “I’m not going to let you have your way today. Getting your dressing changed at the clinic is one thing, but taking off the splint still has to be done at the hospital. The doctor has to check how the bone’s healing too…”

“Turn around.”

Jiang Yuduo’s voice dropped.

“My head may come off, my blood may spill, but the hospital can’t be ditched,” Chen Qing said. “You didn’t say anything when the splint was put on, so taking it off won’t take long either.”

“You fucking…” Jiang Yuduo smacked his shoulder. “You can’t even rhyme!”

“Beat me to death if you want,” Chen Qing said with a hardened look. “Before I die, I’ll still get you to the hospital.”

Jiang Yuduo glared at him for a long time with knitted brows, and finally sighed and leaned against the window, closing his eyes.

When he walked into the exam room, Jiang Yuduo felt like he still hadn’t recovered, like his whole body hurt.

The intern who removed the splint for him smiled at him. “Why do you look so sweaty? Still hurting?”

“No.” Jiang Yuduo answered through clenched teeth.

“He’s just nervous,” Chen Qing said from the side. “Could you please go a little faster? Just take it off in a swish, swish, swish.”

“It comes off quickly,” the doctor nodded. “I’ll write you a form in a moment, get an X-ray to see how the bone’s healing…”

“No need for that,” Jiang Yuduo said. “It’s definitely healed.”

After he said that, he couldn’t hear what the doctor said next, or what Chen Qing said after that.

After the chaotic sounds, there was only dead silence in his ears. His eyes were also full of haze, able to see everything and yet as if nothing had been seen at all. He didn’t know what he was looking at even when he did see it.

Jiang Yuduo closed his eyes.

Chen Qing half-carried him out of the exam room, then dragged him to pay, then to get an X-ray. Even when he lay down on the operating table, he still couldn’t breathe properly.

Everyone looked at him strangely.

Of course they did. A grown man with not a damn injury on him, yet so nervous he was sweating like crazy and practically floating when he walked.

That was why he didn’t want to come to the hospital.

He was afraid of hospitals.

Afraid enough that he no longer even remembered why he was afraid in the first place.

If injections didn’t count, there seemed to be no terrifying hospital memories in his recollection at all. He hadn’t even come to the hospital that many times in his memory, but that tension and rejection, so strong it felt like his back was cramping, had always followed him like a shadow.

When they left the hospital and stepped onto the street, Jiang Yuduo felt like he’d been reborn. He let out a long breath.

“Where to?” Chen Qing asked.

“To Cheng Ke’s place to get the keys,” Jiang Yuduo glanced at his phone. “He should be home by now.”

“Okay.” Chen Qing opened the car door for him.

As they were almost at the neighborhood, Jiang Yuduo called Cheng Ke.

It rang for quite a while before it was answered. Cheng Ke’s slightly muddled voice came through. “Fuck, I’m still… at your place?”

“Where are you if you don’t know?” Jiang Yuduo asked.

“Sorry,” Cheng Ke’s voice cleared up, and he rattled off, “Sorry, sorry, sorry. I just fell asleep again. I’m still on the sofa at your place.”

“You can really sleep,” Jiang Yuduo said, genuinely envious. “Fine, stay there and wait. We’ll come pick you up and take you back.”

“Sorry,” Cheng Ke said.

Jiang Yuduo sighed and hung up. “Go back. He still hasn’t gotten up.”

“Damn,” Chen Qing said. “He sleeps that much?”

“He didn’t sleep last night,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“…What was he doing?” Chen Qing was surprised. “Insomnia too?”

“Mm.” Jiang Yuduo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then you two had company last night,” Chen Qing said. “Two people who couldn’t sleep with their eyes open, drink a little and chat or something… Right, I forgot to ask, what exactly did you two do? Was that all salt on the table?”

“Laundry detergent,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“Impossible, I licked it. It was salty as hell!” Chen Qing said.

“Are you sick in the head?” Jiang Yuduo glanced at him. “You don’t even know what it is and you just stick it in your mouth?”

“It looked like salt,” Chen Qing said. “You two sprinkled a whole table with salt in the middle of the night… You doing some kind of ritual?”

“Get lost,” Jiang Yuduo said.

Because he hadn’t been interrupted by sleep, he remembered everything from last night especially clearly.

From seeing Cheng Ke cry, to saying they should talk, to drinking and eating meat, drawing with salt, then that inexplicable kiss, and finally Cheng Ke saying he only had to be facing a guy to go all the way…

Jiang Yuduo frowned and shook his head.

He couldn’t say what he felt when he heard Cheng Ke say that. Besides surprise, it was just speechlessness.

Cheng Ke probably hadn’t lied. After all, even if it had been a battle of tempers, he couldn’t have kissed down on a man, even if it was… He turned to glance at Chen Qing. Forget it, Chen Qing’s serious driving face made him want to laugh a little.

If he really leaned in to kiss Chen Qing, he’d probably crack up before he got within half a meter.

But thinking of that, he suddenly felt awkward.

Cheng Ke was actually gay?

He’d made quite a few guesses about Cheng Ke, but he never would have guessed there was this layer too.

By the time they got home, Cheng Ke had already cleaned up. The blanket had been folded neatly on the sofa, the pillows stacked on top of it, and the salt on the table had all been cleared away.

“Where’d the salt go?” Chen Qing asked casually.

“Dumped it in the trash,” Cheng Ke said.

“Fuck, there was so much. You dumped it in the trash?” Chen Qing looked at him. “You’re really fucking wasteful.”

“…If I don’t throw it away, am I supposed to keep it and eat it?” Cheng Ke asked.

“It wasn’t dirty,” Chen Qing said. “If I dropped a chunk of meat on the floor, my mom would still make me wash it off and eat it.”

“Give me a break,” Jiang Yuduo said, glancing at the breakfast on the coffee table, then turning to Cheng Ke. “You didn’t eat breakfast?”

“My head feels a little heavy, I don’t really have an appetite,” Cheng Ke said.

“Take it with you,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“No need…” Cheng Ke started to say, then stopped, taking the bag of breakfast.

No one knew what Chen Qing did for work. Every time Cheng Ke saw him, he was driving a different car. Cheng Ke sat in the backseat with the bag of breakfast, staring blankly out the window.

“What did you two play last night? You sprinkled a whole table with salt,” Chen Qing asked while driving.

Last night.

The second Cheng Ke heard those four words, he immediately looked up toward Jiang Yuduo in the passenger seat. Jiang Yuduo had his head resting against the car window and gave no reaction.

Last night, fueled by alcohol, he had been reckless for once. Thinking about it now still made him a little embarrassed. He hadn’t been able to do something like that before, but lately he’d probably been too suffocated.

On the matter of sexuality, he didn’t care what others thought of him. The people he’d dealt with in the past weren’t especially bothered by it either, but after all, he and Jiang Yuduo… weren’t close. And Jiang Yuduo had said he didn’t treat him as a friend.

But Jiang Yuduo hadn’t shown any particularly strange reaction.

“What did you play?” Chen Qing asked again.

Cheng Ke sighed. “Pictionary.”

“…Damn, that’s impressive. Can’t you just use a pen and paper?” Chen Qing said in surprise. “You made a whole table of salt. That’s so creative.”

“Yeah,” Cheng Ke said.

“Call me next time,” Chen Qing said. “I like that game. Third Brother and I used to play all the time.”

“Get lost,” Jiang Yuduo said. “I draw a sun and you can’t even guess it.”

“Then why don’t you say it’s because you draw like crap,” Chen Qing said. “Even the kids next door draw better than you.”

“What did you guess?” Cheng Ke asked.

“Watermelon, potato, onion, tomato,” Chen Qing said.

“Were you hungry?” Cheng Ke asked.

“No!” Chen Qing protested. “He drew a sun and didn’t even draw the little rays, how was I supposed to guess!”

Cheng Ke looked at the back of Chen Qing’s head and didn’t quite understand what this xuxuxu thing was supposed to be.

“A three-and-a-half-year-old drawing a sun knows to add a ring of little xuxuxu rays!” Chen Qing said.

“…Oh.” Cheng Ke finally understood.

Jiang Yuduo clicked his tongue, took out his phone, tapped a few times on the screen, then handed it back to Cheng Ke. “What’s this.”

Cheng Ke looked. It was a circle with a ring of wavy lines around it. “Fried egg.”

“Fuck, just go become sworn brothers with Chen Qing,” Jiang Yuduo said, putting the phone back in his pocket.

Chen Qing laughed so hard he couldn’t stop. “With how you two were acting, how did you even keep playing yesterday? Didn’t you fight?”

“No fight,” Jiang Yuduo said. “We even hugged and kissed.”

Cheng Ke suddenly lifted his head to look at him.

“Damn,” Chen Qing was still laughing, cackling. “Next time you kiss, call me too. I’ll bring two women along.”

“Mm.” Jiang Yuduo turned his head and looked over, meeting Cheng Ke’s eyes.

Jiang Yuduo’s face had no expression, and his gaze was calm too.

Yet that glance, seemingly empty of any content, made Cheng Ke feel a little uncomfortable. He seemed to sense Jiang Yuduo’s unhappiness beneath that indifference.

But the wager had been Jiang Yuduo’s idea to begin with, and he had been the one provoking him.

Even if they kissed, it was his own fault.

What was there to be unhappy about now?

Wasn’t he always the type to take things seriously? Even polite words could be forcefully and strictly enforced, yet now he didn’t want to uphold his own “admit defeat when you lose”?

Cheng Ke tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

Maybe it wasn’t because of that kiss, but because of the words gay.

Chen Qing pulled up downstairs and waited in the car while Jiang Yuduo and Cheng Ke went into the elevator together.

“I could’ve taken it down for you too,” Cheng Ke said.

“It’s fine,” Jiang Yuduo said. “I’m checking the place anyway.”

“Oh,” Cheng Ke nodded. “Then you can take another photo and compare it next time you check.”

Jiang Yuduo glanced at him. “You still asleep?”

“I’ve been awake for a while,” Cheng Ke said.

“Then why the hell are you throwing a morning temper tantrum?” Jiang Yuduo said.

“…Me?” Cheng Ke looked at him too.

“Who else?” Jiang Yuduo said. “I haven’t slept all night. If I was going to throw a temper tantrum, that was yesterday. It’s expired by now.”

Cheng Ke was momentarily speechless, so he could only stare at the floor numbers.

After they opened the door, Cheng Ke handed the key back to Jiang Yuduo. “Check away.”

“Mm.” Jiang Yuduo went into the kitchen. The moment he stepped in, he came right back out. “You don’t turn off the gas when you leave?”

“I turned off the valve,” Cheng Ke said.

“Very convincing reasoning,” Jiang Yuduo said. “Be careful. I’m afraid you’ll get poisoned and die here.”

“Natural gas doesn’t poison that easily.” Cheng Ke poured himself a glass of water.

“Then what if you get blown up?” Jiang Yuduo said.

“…Thanks,” Cheng Ke sighed, sitting on the sofa.

Jiang Yuduo went back into the kitchen and turned off the stove, then took a cigarette pack from his pocket, wrote a number on it, and placed it beside Cheng Ke. “Lu Xi’s number. If you don’t bring your keys next time, you can call her. After ten at night doesn’t work. You’ll get scolded.”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke nodded.

After Jiang Yuduo left, Cheng Ke collapsed onto the sofa. He still felt pretty sleepy, but he couldn’t sleep anymore.

After lying there for a while, he got up, went into the bedroom to grab a change of clothes, and went into the bathroom.

When the hot water was turned up to the max and poured down over his head, he let out a long breath.

He rarely drank this much, and even less often drank this much and still couldn’t sleep. Right now, with one hand braced against the wall, he could feel that although his body had loosened up, his head still felt heavy.

The dazed feeling of a hangover that hadn’t worn off yet.

And yet, he still couldn’t sleep.

He shook his head hard, pressing his forehead against the wall, irritated.

Hot water slid over his skin, carrying heat with it. What began as comfort slowly turned into a kind of breathlessness.

But that kind of breathlessness wasn’t unpleasant. Instead, it somehow made one think of other scenes that also left you breathless.

Although Cheng Ke did not want to think back on last night’s kiss again, his brain kept taking matters into its own hands and replaying it for him.

Jiang Yuduo’s naked body.

Half-naked.

Clean, clear lines of muscle.

That provocative smile at the corner of his mouth.

…

When Cheng Ke came out of the bathroom, he glanced at his phone. He had spent about twice as long showering as usual.

Normally, even if he did something in the bathroom, it wouldn’t take this long. Today, after he finished whatever that was, he stood under the shower for ages more, wrapped in hot water, almost falling asleep until his head bumped the wall and woke him up. Only then did he quickly turn off the water and crack the window open a little.

Back in the bedroom, he threw the duvet cover and blanket over himself in a messy heap, closed his eyes, and yawned.

This was the best time to catch up on sleep.

“I’m heading back to the shop,” Chen Qing said, sitting on the sofa and using his phone to fix his hair. “Got any gel?”

“I’ve never used that stuff in my life,” Jiang Yuduo said, looking down at the novel on his phone. “Don’t ask every time, it’s annoying.”

“When I have time, I’ll bring a bottle over and leave it here,” Chen Qing said. “How far are you?”

“Flashback section,” Jiang Yuduo said. “He’s freaking going back three chapters in memories and still hasn’t finished.”

“Did he remember who killed him in his last life?” Chen Qing asked.

“No.” Jiang Yuduo lit a cigarette. “If he remembers everything later, how the hell are they supposed to stretch out another million words?”

“Fair enough,” Chen Qing nodded, then asked, “You topped up, right?”

“Mm.” Jiang Yuduo answered.

“Then I’ll use your account tonight,” Chen Qing said, getting up after fixing his hair. “I’m off.”

“Aren’t you paid? You’ve fallen so low you’re mooching novel reads now.” Jiang Yuduo looked up.

“I’m saving money now, wife fund,” Chen Qing said. “If I don’t save up, I can’t even afford to date. My arms have gotten two sizes bigger.”

“Get lost.” Jiang Yuduo waved him off and swiped through several pages on the screen, trying to hurry through the flashback part.

When he read novels, he always wanted to leap forward. He had no interest in flashbacks, and even if they were tied to important plot points, he still didn’t want to read them. Why were there so many flashbacks anyway, and why did people remember them so clearly?

Especially those painful memories. Who the hell liked dragging those back out for no reason?

But today, seeing this kind of content made him more irritated than usual. So irritated that once he got through the flashback section, he didn’t want to keep reading.

He didn’t even know what he was irritated about.

After staring blankly for a while, he picked up his phone again and forced himself to read a few more chapters, but he couldn’t even make out what they were about.

That was the misery of insomnia.

He got up, put on his jacket, and left.

The weather had reportedly dropped sharply over the last two days, and the wind outside was indeed fierce. Jiang Yuduo took the hat tucked into his pocket and put it on, wandering aimlessly through the streets.

When Mu Ding’s call came in, Cheng Ke was still in a dream. Lately, he’d been dreaming a lot, and there was always a plot. Even after waking up, he could still remember it.

He reached for his phone. “Hello?”

“Sleeping?” Mu Ding’s voice on the other end was noisy, with a lot of people around.

“Mm,” Cheng Ke glanced at the time. It was almost five. “You got there?”

“Yeah,” Mu Ding said. “But the prep work isn’t done yet. If you head over now, the timing should be perfect. Eat first, then we can start.”

“Alright,” Cheng Ke sat up. “A bowl of noodles or something is fine. Don’t make it too complicated. I don’t have much of an appetite these days.”

“Then the noodle shop by the door,” Mu Ding said.

“I’ll be there in half an hour.” Cheng Ke hung up and jumped out of bed.

The experts said naps shouldn’t exceed forty minutes, and it seemed that was true. He’d napped until five in the afternoon, and his legs were so weak when he walked that when he went into the bathroom, he almost knelt in front of the toilet.

While washing his face, his phone rang again. He picked it up and saw it was the reminder alarm he’d set before. Rent was due tomorrow.

Looking at the date on his phone, he realized another month had gone by, and he didn’t even know how it had passed.

This month had been especially boring. Besides eating out with Mu Ding a few times, he’d stayed home the rest of the time and hadn’t gone out. He had no memory of what he’d done.

He hadn’t thought life would be this dull. Maybe it was because the only ripple in his otherwise calm life hadn’t shown up for a long time.

Since the last time he’d gone to get the keys, he and Jiang Yuduo hadn’t contacted each other again.

After all, he wasn’t really Cheng, Idiot, Ke, and there was nothing else in the apartment that needed Jiang Yuduo’s help.

And Jiang Yuduo had directly given him Lu Xi’s number. Such an awkward hint, he couldn’t possibly not understand it. Even if there was anything else he didn’t get, he wouldn’t lightly call Jiang Yuduo again.

Thinking about it suddenly made him feel a little desolate.

He hadn’t imagined there had to be anything between him and Jiang Yuduo, but at the very least it shouldn’t have been this kind of state. The last event had turned out to be an inexplicable kiss, awkward and stiff.

Mu Ding’s studio had moved locations. After Cheng Ke got out of the taxi, he realized he’d gone to the wrong entrance and spent ages looking for it. In the end, he still had to call Mu Ding and have him come out to meet him.

“Are you about to go bankrupt?” Cheng Ke asked as he followed behind Mu Ding. “That standalone building before was so much better. Now you’re crammed into the same building with all these companies.”

“There’s atmosphere here,” Mu Ding said. “And the floors are high, so the view is farther.”

“How far?” Cheng Ke asked.

“Far enough to keep seeing what you can’t see,” Mu Ding said.

Cheng Ke smiled.

Mu Ding used to have a studio that had nothing to do with the scope of his company. They did all kinds of pretentious videos and organized all kinds of pretentious events, and every collaboration was done through that studio.

Now the studio had moved into a very high-end-looking building, near the top floor. The space was huge, bigger than the previous three-story building, but Cheng Ke still preferred the atmosphere of the old place.

Mu Ding took him around for a bit, and the studio’s style had changed a lot too. Before, it had leaned toward quiet pastoral charm. Now it looked modern and abstract.

“The change is huge,” Cheng Ke said.

“I like different things,” Mu Ding said, bringing him into his office and standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window to look outside. “When one kind of life goes on too long, you want to change it up.”

“I’ve been living one kind of life for over twenty years,” Cheng Ke said.

“Still confused now?” Mu Ding turned around and asked with a smile.

“It’s alright,” Cheng Ke walked up to the glass. “Just so-so.”

“You can see… the building where your dad’s company is,” Mu Ding pointed into the distance.

“Really?” Cheng Ke followed the direction he pointed.

It was very far away, so far it was almost impossible to make out, and he could only see the word Group. If not for the familiar logo on top, he really wouldn’t have noticed it.

“After that building was built, I think I only went there twice,” Cheng Ke said, looking over there.

“Let’s eat,” Mu Ding said. “I had my assistant buy some noodles. They should be back by now.”

“Didn’t you say we’d go out to eat?” Cheng Ke asked.

“I went and checked. The environment wasn’t very good,” Mu Ding said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be used to it.”

“I’m not that particular anymore…” Cheng Ke turned back and glanced at that building again. “Not anymore.”

Mu Ding said nothing, only smiled.

Cheng Ke was already very familiar with the process of filming videos. He only needed to confirm what he was drawing.

This time they were filming a set of landscapes. Mu Ding gave him photos, and he showed the changes in the scenery one by one. It didn’t need to be exactly the same. As long as the mood and the thing they wanted to convey came through, that was enough.

Before, he always used his own sand-art table. He was more used to that. This time, all the materials had been prepared by Mu Ding.

“Is it okay?” Mu Ding asked.

“It’s better than my old one. Mine’s pretty worn out.” Cheng Ke smiled, then thought of his own sand-art table, whose final destination was some trash dump, and his heart gave a sudden tug.

“If you’re used to this one, I’ll have someone bring it over for you,” Mu Ding said. “I’m even afraid you’re too lazy to buy one now.”

“Alright,” Cheng Ke said.

This time they were using colored sand, but only gray green. Cheng Ke liked that color quite a bit. It wasn’t too bright, and it wasn’t gloomy either. It carried a steadiness with a touch of lightness.

He took a handful of sand and clenched it in his hand, feeling the grains slowly compress and interweave in his palm. He couldn’t help closing his eyes for a moment. The feeling of sand rubbing softly at his fingertips made his whole body settle down.

It really was more comfortable than salt.

“Let’s begin,” he said, putting the sand back.

Mu Ding called in the cameraman to adjust the angle. Cheng Ke quickly ran through his earlier concept in his head and scattered the first handful of sand.

Fine grains spread from thick to thin across the glass, glowing with a warm white light.

After layering several times, he brushed his hand lightly across the sand’s surface, and as the light appeared again, he temporarily forgot the irritations of the past two months.

The video was shot over and over again. By the time it was finished, it was past nine, and the blinking lights on the street had already blended into a sheet.

When Cheng Ke walked out of the building, he stretched. These were probably the happiest few hours he’d had in two months.

Mu Ding wanted to drive him home, but he refused. In the past, he always went home by himself after finishing. Even if he didn’t have a car to drive now, he still didn’t want anything to be different from before.

Mu Ding didn’t insist. He only walked him to a convenient corner for hailing a taxi. “Once it’s done, I’ll call you.”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke nodded.

“That live event next month, think about it. If there’s no problem, we can talk details another day,” Mu Ding said.

“Alright.” Cheng Ke felt around in his pocket for his cigarette pack and found it empty, which made him instantly a little annoyed.

Mu Ding handed over a pack of cigarettes. “You were probably suffocating for hours.”

“I was counting how many times you went out to smoke,” Cheng Ke said, taking the cigarettes and walking to the wall to light one.

“About the live event…” Mu Ding hesitated. “Don’t tell people in advance.”

“Huh? Okay.” Cheng Ke froze.

The way Mu Ding said that was a little strange. They had collaborated on live events before, but Mu Ding had never asked him to keep anything confidential, and there had never really been any need to.

He kept thinking about why on the ride in the taxi.

More than ten minutes after the car pulled off, he suddenly frowned, took out his phone, and called Mu Ding.

“What is it?” Mu Ding answered.

“Why did your studio move locations?” Cheng Ke asked.

“I already told you,” Mu Ding said. “I wanted to change the vibe. I’d been at the old place for too long.”

“Alright then.” Cheng Ke stayed silent for a while and hung up.

If Mu Ding didn’t say, there was no point asking again.

Maybe he was overthinking it. After all, before he hadn’t thought about anything at all, but once he suddenly started thinking, it was easy to exaggerate things.

Or maybe he hadn’t overthought it.

Mu Ding was the only one among his so-called friends whose relationship with him hadn’t changed. Cheng Yi might not have noticed Mu Ding before, but if he had noticed him, there didn’t seem to be anything he couldn’t do.

In this city, it was easy to accidentally end up with some property development or a piece of land belonging to his dad’s company, and he couldn’t even sort out what businesses Cheng Yi was now handling.

He wasn’t interested in any of that, and he didn’t want to figure it out either. But once the thought crossed his mind, he still felt blocked up inside.

After getting out of the car at the neighborhood entrance, he stood by the roadside watching it drive away, not moving even after it was gone.

He wasn’t sleepy now, and he wasn’t tired. He didn’t have any particularly urgent desire to lie down on a bed either. After being busy for several hours, though, he was a little hungry. One bowl of noodles definitely hadn’t been enough.

When Mu Ding had asked if he wanted something to eat, he hadn’t felt hungry yet. But now, probably because of his mood, the frustration suddenly made him so hungry it felt like someone was scraping away the last bit of food in his stomach with a spoon. It was empty.

So hungry he even felt a little nauseous.

What kind of state was this?

Cheng Ke sighed. After hesitating for a few seconds, he turned and walked toward the intersection. He’d go sit at Starbucks for a while, have something to eat and drink.

Actually, he was kind of craving barbecue now, the messy little shops by the roadside.

He’d only been to places like that two or three times in total. The group of them had thought it was too noisy and too dirty, the tables were greasy, the stools were uncomfortable, the service was bad, and every time he went there and came back he got diarrhea, more effective than poison.

But now whenever he passed by a supermarket, he would also pass several barbecue shops. On a windy winter night, with the thick curtain pulled down, the light and steam inside carried the liveliness of another world.

Just looking at it made him want to go in. Too bad he couldn’t even find someone to go with.

Thinking of that made him even more blocked up.

He tugged at his collar. The wind was blowing too hard. This jacket wasn’t holding up.

The clothes he wore were bought casually two months ago. He’d bought a lot at once, figured they’d last him a week of changes, and then never bothered thinking about clothes again.

Yesterday, when the old north wind was hammering his forehead, he still hadn’t remembered he should buy heavier winter clothes. Now that the wind was hitting him so hard his eyes were almost impossible to keep open, he finally realized that if he didn’t go buy clothes tomorrow, he’d probably soon be unable to go out at all.

From here to Starbucks wasn’t far at all. If he strolled over, it would only take five minutes. But if you said it was close, with the wind blowing through him like this, it wouldn’t even take a minute. The next few minutes would be miserable.

What an idiot. Why hadn’t he just called a taxi to come straight here? Why did he have to get out of the car before thinking of going to eat something?

But since he was already at the intersection, turning back wasn’t exactly close either.

He might as well have gone back earlier and ordered takeout.

…Fuck!

Why was it that such a tiny thing like getting hungry at night became so troublesome for him?

He frowned and turned into a side street from the intersection. He remembered that last time he’d walked this way with Jiang Yuduo, there had been a fork that cut straight through, with the exit right by the trash can he’d kicked over, very close to Starbucks.

It was probably going to snow tonight. In this kind of weather, at this hour, there weren’t many people on the street anymore. Walking along the road, there was only the light from the windows on either side, and it looked especially lonely.

After walking a bit, he saw a three-way fork.

Where had this three-way fork come from?

He looked back, certain he hadn’t taken the wrong path.

He had no choice but to take out his phone, open the navigation app, and the navigation told him the far-right path was the one.

“Let’s go,” he murmured, holding the phone like it was a compass and following its directions.

After walking a little farther, he realized he had probably just passed by Jiang Yuduo’s place. He must have overshot earlier. The intersection was in front of Jiang Yuduo’s apartment.

He wasn’t actually bad with directions, but in the old north wind, his starving stomach had sent him off course. By the time he emerged from the side street back onto the main road, he was about two hundred meters farther than the exit he’d expected.

But the distance should be about right. He could already see the Starbucks sign.

This street was at its liveliest at ten, with all kinds of bars and clubs flashing in the dark background. But there weren’t many people on the road. Most cars would pull up at the door, and people would dive straight into the heat, the smell of alcohol, the laughter, and the music.

Cheng Ke put his phone back in his pocket.

As he walked forward, he suddenly felt someone behind him.

He glanced back and saw no one.

Maybe it was because this was the kind of dark that had been cut off from the noise and bustle, making people uneasy.

Or maybe it was… the few people standing near two trash cans not far away. He couldn’t make out their faces, only the flickering red points of cigarette tips near their mouths and in their hands.

They seemed to be having a pretty good time, but the way they laughed was especially infuriating.

It was the kind of laughter squeezed out with the throat flattened down, and you could just imagine the content of their conversation.

When Cheng Ke frowned and was about to cross to the other side of the street, one of them burst out laughing and kicked hard at a trash can.

This trash can didn’t have a lid on it and was pretty full. The man used a lot of force, and the instant it toppled over, Cheng Ke felt a wave of trash surge out.

Although he had once fought Jiang Yuduo on top of a trash can until the can itself was dented out of shape, he still felt a wave of disgust right now. But before he could stride away, a box of something, no idea what, flew over and landed a meter away from him. The lid was knocked open, and soup and water splashed all over his pants.

In the overwhelming disgust, he even felt it splash onto his face.

“Fuck!” Cheng Ke wiped at his face and cursed.

His curse wasn’t very loud, but it was still answered quickly by the other side.

“Cuss again!” one of them shouted, leaping up and viciously kicking something that looked like a fast-food box.

That kind of kick wouldn’t have much force under normal circumstances. The box would just be kicked apart, and the scraps inside would scatter everywhere.

But things were different now. Now there was wind, and Cheng Ke was standing downwind from them.

He dodged the meal box that came at him with clawing, flailing force, but he couldn’t dodge the scraps of food inside.

Laughter burst from over there.

Cheng Ke really couldn’t understand it. He had only changed where he lived, that was all. He had come to this area countless times before, and even when things happened, it had always been in bars where someone was making trouble. But now, time and again, he kept running into these infuriating pieces of crap on the street.

What the hell was wrong?

It felt like the anger in his chest was about to burn him open and explode.

Cheng Ke walked toward the few of them, stepping on a ground covered in trash.

Among the rubbish was a metal rod, looking like it had been taken off a window. As he passed, he lightly kicked one end of the rod.

The metal rod bounced up, spun twice in the air, and he caught it in his hand.

The laughter from the few people went lower.

Idiots.

This move had been something Cheng Ke had practiced while messing around in the yard out of boredom. Every time the back garden trees were trimmed, branches would fall all over the ground, thick and thin, long and short. At first he just kicked them for fun, but gradually he found the pattern and the right force. As long as he got the angle right, he could kick any rod-shaped thing from the ground into the air and catch it with his hand.

It was useless in a fight, but it was excellent for intimidation. It could put quite a bit of pressure on an opponent and create the illusion that “fuck, this guy seems kind of strong,” and then he could make his move.

Cheng Ke slammed the rod across the leg of the guy who had kicked the meal box.

The man was stunned for about half a second, then roared and lunged at him. Cheng Ke sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and pulled forward while pressing his elbow.

The man immediately kept charging past him. Cheng Ke kicked him in the back, and he lunged face-first into the trash on the ground.

Wind was in his ear, and the distance was too close. Cheng Ke had no way to dodge. He could only shift his angle so that the rod that should have smashed into his shoulder instead landed on his arm. There was muscle there after all, so it was less likely to hit bone.

The thing that came at him was a pipe.

Cheng Ke caught the other end of the pipe and yanked forward. The person behind him was dragged toward him, and in the motion, Cheng Ke threw a punch that landed in his lower back, but it didn’t have much force.

Cheng Ke gripped his wrist and twisted. The guy yelped and flipped sideways onto the ground, one knee hitting first as he struggled and refused to go down.

Cheng Ke stomped on his ribs, and that guy also smashed into the ground.

So satisfying.

Way more satisfying than fighting Jiang Yuduo.

These people were too weak. He could make every strike precise, with his movements never deforming.

When several of them swung at him at once, he bent down and kicked the one who had just gotten up after falling the first time. That man crashed down again and let out furious curses.

Cheng Ke used the metal rod in his hand to smash backward, forcing the people coming around behind him to retreat two steps. He didn’t even bother turning back to look. From this angle, it wasn’t going to hit anyone’s head anyway. As long as it didn’t hit the head, it didn’t matter.

Then he stomped his foot on the shoulder of the second person, who had been about to pick up the pipe.

He got hit a few times too, but he couldn’t feel the pain. As long as he wasn’t being knocked to the ground, he kept his eyes on the first two and fought them.

After who knew how many rounds, those two had blood smeared all over their noses and mouths, and a pain he could finally feel had begun spreading across the back of his head too.

Fuck, you’re fucking hitting like you don’t know your limits!

When Cheng Ke turned around, he threw a heavy punch at the nose of the person behind him. That man clutched his nose, let out a short shriek, and fell on his ass to the ground.

The stabbing pain at the back of his head made Cheng Ke kick at the hand covering that face again.

When he turned again, he saw a knife.

But the person holding it never got to strike before Cheng Ke hit his wrist and knocked the knife to the ground.

Cheng Ke found that the man was just standing there, unmoving.

When he came back to his senses and looked at the others, they had all frozen, sitting or standing or bent over, each of them staring behind him.

Cheng Ke steadied himself and followed their gazes as he turned his head.

What a… coincidence.

Jiang Yuduo stood in the wind with a cigarette between his lips, silently looking over here.

“Third Brother,” someone said.

“Get lost,” Jiang Yuduo spat out the word around the cigarette.

“Third Brother,” another person spoke up. “We…”

“Say one more word and you’ll only be able to crawl out of this street today,” Jiang Yuduo said.

The few of them scrambled up quickly and, one after another, filed past Cheng Ke like they were lining up. After each of them shot him a glare, they disappeared into the darkness.

After a stretch of silence, Jiang Yuduo walked two steps toward him and looked at him. “What the hell are you throwing a fit for?”

Cheng Ke said nothing. In the suddenly quiet atmosphere around them, the heat in his body disappeared in an instant, and right after that the sharp pain in the back of his head spread through his whole body.

His legs started hurting too.

Fuck.

As Cheng Ke uncontrollably dropped to his knees, there was only one word in his head.

What a spectacular scene, after a full-on brawl, he knelt in front of the boss of this area. Maybe he’d even fail to hold himself up and bow his head too.

Fuck!

But that scene didn’t happen.

At the same time his body started to sink, Jiang Yuduo had already come forward and braced him, the cigarette in his mouth nearly poking Cheng Ke in the face.

Cheng Ke turned his head to avoid the cigarette tip and swayed, then steadied himself.

Jiang Yuduo let go of him, looked down at his own hand, then reached out and wiped it across Cheng Ke’s clothes twice.

Cheng Ke looked down blankly. “What are you doing?”

The clothes were black, so he couldn’t tell what Jiang Yuduo had smeared on them.

Jiang Yuduo said nothing and held out his hand in front of Cheng Ke’s eyes, wiggling it.

There was blood in his palm.

“You’re injured?” Cheng Ke was shocked. He couldn’t figure out how Jiang Yuduo would be injured.

“This is your blood, you fucking idiot,” Jiang Yuduo looked at him. “Idiot!”

“…Ah,” Cheng Ke froze, then reached back and touched the back of his own neck. His fingers were indeed covered in blood. He was extremely shocked. “Fuck.”

Jiang Yuduo stubbed out the cigarette on the lid of a nearby trash can and walked down the same little road he had come from. “Come on.”

“Where to?” Cheng Ke asked.

“My place,” Jiang Yuduo said over his shoulder. “If you don’t want to go, then take a taxi to the hospital yourself. Let’s see if there’s a taxi in this area that’ll take you.”

Cheng Ke followed silently.

Jiang Yuduo’s place was still the same as before. Even the blanket and pillows he’d used last time were still on the chair, not put away.

Cheng Ke took off his jacket and sat in the chair by the table.

It was warm in the room. The cold in his body quickly receded, his frozen body began to regain sensation, and the pain came with it.

It hurt like a burst of fireworks, everywhere, all over.

“Take your shirt off,” Jiang Yuduo said, bringing out the first-aid kit and setting it on the table.

Cheng Ke recognized this kit. It had been the same one placed at his place before.

After a moment of hesitation, Cheng Ke took off his shirt. He had originally wanted to throw it onto the sofa, but after looking at it he saw blood all over the collar, so he tossed it onto the floor beside him instead.

Jiang Yuduo went over and picked up the shirt, placing it on the sofa.

“It’ll get dirty in a bit,” Cheng Ke said.

“I’m not as particular as you are,” Jiang Yuduo opened the kit and took out some alcohol. “Let’s clean it first. I can’t see where the wounds are right now.”

Cheng Ke looked at the bottle of alcohol. It probably wasn’t the same bottle as last time. Last time Jiang Yuduo had poured half a bottle over his head like he was watering flowers…

Thinking of Jiang Yuduo’s style of treating wounds, Cheng Ke immediately got a little nervous. “How about I do it myself?”

“Scared?” Jiang Yuduo looked at him. “You were pretty cocky when you were swinging first.”

“Whatever, fuck it.” Cheng Ke felt like the pain at the back of his head was nearly numbing him, and he couldn’t be bothered to bicker with Jiang Yuduo anymore. He braced his elbow on the table.

The moment he put weight on it and still hadn’t steadied himself, his elbow shot with pain. He quickly lifted his arm and looked. There was a pretty deep cut, though not a long one. He didn’t know when he’d gotten it… Had the sleeve torn again?

Jiang Yuduo poked his finger against the back of Cheng Ke’s head and pressed down. “Lower your head.”

“Here? Shouldn’t we go to the bathroom?” Cheng Ke asked. “We’ll make a mess of blood all over the place.”

“I told you to do something, then do it!” Jiang Yuduo shouted. “Do I need to run you a tub of hot water and sprinkle petals in it too!”

Cheng Ke shut up and just flopped face-down onto the table, closing his eyes as well, clenching his teeth and waiting for the moment the alcohol would be poured on.

People were really strange. You weren’t afraid of getting hurt when fighting, and once injured you could even endure the pain, sometimes not even feeling it. But when the wound was being treated, this tiny bit of pain could make you tense up.

Maybe it was because you knew beforehand that it would hurt. The more you thought and waited for it, the more afraid you became.

Pain that came out of nowhere didn’t really count as pain.

Jiang Yuduo didn’t just pour the alcohol directly onto his head. Instead, he tore open a large packet of cotton, pulled out half of it, and kneaded it into a ball that looked bigger than a large steamed bun.

Then after pouring some alcohol onto it, Jiang Yuduo used the cotton ball to wipe the back of Cheng Ke’s neck.

“You already used half of it? Will there still be enough to treat the wound later?” Cheng Ke asked.

Jiang Yuduo made no sound and slapped him on the back.

Because he was bare-chested, that slap rang out crisp and clear. If the room had been a little bigger, there would probably have been an echo.

Cheng Ke suppressed the anger that nearly surged up again, clenched his teeth, and didn’t say anything or move.

Jiang Yuduo wiped his neck and shoulders, then slowly poured some alcohol into the hair at the back of his head. “Is it here?”

“No, a little higher,” Cheng Ke said. “I feel like the pain is above there.”

Jiang Yuduo put down the things, went into the bedroom, and came back out with a desk lamp. He turned it on behind Cheng Ke’s head, then pushed through Cheng Ke’s hair a couple of times. “Found it.”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke answered.

“It’s not deep, it’s fine. It’s not bleeding much anymore either. But if this wound had been on my head, it probably still wouldn’t have stopped bleeding after two days,” Jiang Yuduo said. “I need… to find some scissors.”

“What for?” Cheng Ke was startled and lifted his head.

“Cut some hair off. Otherwise how are you supposed to wash it?” Jiang Yuduo rummaged in the first-aid kit and pulled out a small pink children’s craft scissors with rounded tips.

Cheng Ke didn’t want to be cut into a patchy bald spot, much less be cut into one by that kind of scissors. He slapped Jiang Yuduo’s hand holding the scissors down. “No.”

“No what?” Jiang Yuduo asked. “If you go to the hospital, the doctor will just shave this whole area off.”

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Cheng Ke said.

Jiang Yuduo didn’t make a sound.

“I have a live performance next month,” Cheng Ke sighed. “It’s only a few days away. I can’t show up with a bald patch on the back of my head, can I?”

After a moment of silence, Jiang Yuduo finally spoke. “So you’re making your living off this now?”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke answered.

“…Fine,” Jiang Yuduo set down the scissors. “Just wash carefully.”

“Thanks,” Cheng Ke said.

Jiang Yuduo was probably experienced at treating wounds. Cheng Ke lay face-down on the table and could feel him taking small sections of hair and dabbing at them with cotton balls, his movements very light. Aside from the sting of alcohol hitting the wound, there wasn’t any of the other pain that came from being poked or touched.

Cheng Ke didn’t know why Jiang Yuduo treated his own wounds with such a chaotic, storm-like efficiency.

The back-of-the-head injury took an unknown amount of time to clean. After the alcohol sting, the wound went numb. It didn’t hurt anymore and he didn’t feel much at all, only the slight tickle of hair being moved.

Lying there on the table, Cheng Ke inexplicably felt as if he were getting a massage. The living room heating must have been repaired, because it was warm in here now, and he started to feel sleepy.

So comfortable he was almost falling asleep.

Maybe he’d been hit into a concussion.

Jiang Yuduo had treated a lot of wounds, his own and other people’s. If one of his little brothers got injured and ran over to him, he would help them bandage it up as best he could.

But among all those people, this was the first time he’d met someone who could actually fall asleep, and even snore, while getting their wound treated.

He’d been bent over like this for nearly half an hour, and his waist was sore as hell. Yet Cheng Ke was actually asleep on the table! At first he thought the snoring came from Mao, but when he turned around, he saw Mao sitting upright on the sofa, staring at him.

Only then did he confirm that Cheng Ke had not only fallen asleep, but was sleeping soundly.

If it were Chen Qing, he would’ve thrown him outside to freeze without even bothering with a coat.

But with Cheng Ke, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that.

Compared with people like them who had mixed on the streets since childhood, this former rich young master in front of him probably had a much harder life in his heart. A lot of things they considered routine were, for Cheng Ke, probably major setbacks.

And it was obvious he was pretty frustrated.

So even though Jiang Yuduo found his liking for men a little hard to swallow, he had still helped him just now.

If it had been some other gay guy, he definitely would have just squatted across the street, lit a cigarette, and watched the show.

After cleaning the wound, Jiang Yuduo first used adhesive strips to pull Cheng Ke’s hair to both sides and expose the injury, then covered it with gauze.

When he was taping on the gauze, Cheng Ke gave a low hum as if he were about to wake. Jiang Yuduo stopped and waited for a while, only to find that the man had just grunted once.

It wasn’t until he pulled Cheng Ke’s arm out to look at the wound there that Cheng Ke suddenly jerked up from the table and straightened himself.

The two of them stared at each other for several seconds before Cheng Ke finally asked, “Did I fall asleep?”

“Mm,” Jiang Yuduo nodded.

“Sorry, I just felt really tired,” Cheng Ke rubbed his face. “I didn’t even know when I fell asleep… Done?”

“Done,” Jiang Yuduo said. “Go buy some medicine at the pharmacy. There should be something that speeds up wound healing. Just put it on yourself.”

“Oh.” Cheng Ke hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Wasn’t there a gas station when you came over?” Jiang Yuduo said. “There’s a clinic behind it. If you can’t handle it, go there and have them help you apply it.”

“Okay.” Cheng Ke let out a breath, then moved his arm. “I’ll handle this wound myself.”

Jiang Yuduo pushed the first-aid kit in front of him.

It had to be said that if Cheng Ke’s fluidity of movement when doing sand art was a ten, then the way he treated his own wounds probably had to be negative infinity.

His awkward, clumsy motions, unable to hold a thing properly no matter where he put his hand, made Jiang Yuduo want to rush over and smack him twice several times.

“If you can’t watch this,” Cheng Ke sighed, “go do something else for a while.”

Jiang Yuduo took out his phone, and before he could even get a good grip on it, a call came in.

“Who is it?” he answered.

The wound on Cheng Ke’s arm was on the outside. He had no choice but to press his arm onto the table, twist his body away, and, almost like he was hugging himself, use the cotton to wipe the wound.

Very seriously.

He disliked having people nearby when he was on the phone, and he also disliked being nearby when others were on the phone.

But Jiang Yuduo didn’t seem to be as particular. He still leaned against the sofa. “How many? Oh… I know who they’re looking for… Don’t worry about it. Just avoid them…”

After Jiang Yuduo hung up, he stood up, walked to the table, and grabbed Cheng Ke’s wrist.

Before Cheng Ke could react, Jiang Yuduo had already picked up the bottle of alcohol, tugged Cheng Ke’s arm down, and poured it over the wound. Then he tore off a wad of cotton and swept it across the wound in one swift motion.

Before Cheng Ke even had time to feel pain, the blood on the wound had already been wiped away.

Then Jiang Yuduo pressed a piece of gauze on top and, after sticking it down, said, “Stay here for now.”

“Hm?” Cheng Ke froze.

“Those guys have called their boss and are looking for you on the street,” Jiang Yuduo said while putting the first-aid kit away. He lit a cigarette and lay back on the sofa.

“…I thought those guys were yours,” Cheng Ke said.

“No,” Jiang Yuduo said. “I don’t even know them.”

“And yet they ran when they saw you.” Cheng Ke moved his neck a little. Not bad, it was just a bit sore.

“Yeah, they ran when they saw me, not me when I saw them,” Jiang Yuduo said with a frown. “Go to the hospital tomorrow for an X-ray. How the hell did you get hit with a stick and end up looking like Chen Qing?”

Cheng Ke sighed.

“They won’t be able to keep it up for long, not in weather this cold,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“Mm,” Cheng Ke leaned back in the chair. “I thought this area only had you as the boss. There are others?”

“No matter what area it is,” Jiang Yuduo said, “you can go out and just say you’re the boss. Who’s going to care? It’s not some outstanding citizen award.”

“Then your status as boss,” Cheng Ke looked at him, “is something Chen Qing had to go out and shout into existence for you, right?”

Jiang Yuduo frowned at him for a glance, then looked at his phone and said nothing.

It took Cheng Ke five seconds to realize that, based on what he’d seen earlier, Jiang Yuduo was probably referring to the other side’s boss. He immediately felt a kind of tragic heroism, as if he’d been possessed by Chen Qing.

After sitting there for a while, the hunger that had been driven away by the fight returned to his stomach. He took out his phone, hesitated, then looked at Jiang Yuduo and asked, “Do you want something to eat?”

“Not hungry,” Jiang Yuduo said, still staring at his phone without looking up.

“I’m starving. Can I order takeout?” Cheng Ke asked.

“What do you want to eat?” Jiang Yuduo looked up.

“…Barbecue,” Cheng Ke said, shaking his phone. “I saw some in the delivery app.”

“Which one?” Jiang Yuduo asked again.

“Let me see.” Cheng Ke opened the phone and checked. “Lao Fatty Barbecue.”

“Never heard of it, probably not good. Don’t eat it,” Jiang Yuduo said with a click of his tongue.

Cheng Ke looked at him, waiting for him to say which places were good. But Jiang Yuduo made no more sound and lowered his head to keep staring at his phone.

So Cheng Ke had to keep scrolling through his phone looking for another one. “Dahe Barbecue? Best Barbecue? Chenjiatun Barbecue… Is this the one Chen Qing’s family runs…”

“Hey!” Jiang Yuduo let out a heavy sigh and tossed his phone aside. “Say it. What do you want to eat?”

“Barbecue,” Cheng Ke said.

“I know that!” Jiang Yuduo kicked the chair. “What kind of barbecue! What kind of thing!”

Cheng Ke fell silent. Only then did he realize that he had been craving barbecue for ages, yet there wasn’t a single specific dish in mind, nor any memory of taste.

Strictly speaking, he probably just wanted to be in the lively atmosphere of a barbecue shop. He didn’t really care about the actual barbecue…

“I don’t know,” Cheng Ke sighed. He also couldn’t explain it to Jiang Yuduo, and felt that the next second Jiang Yuduo might jump up and yell until his ears went deaf.

But Jiang Yuduo didn’t jump, and he didn’t yell either. After staring at him for a long time, he picked up his phone again and dialed a number.

“Bring me some barbecue,” he said with a frown. “Anything. Ten skewers each. And vegetables too, chives, broccoli, eggplant… No need for liquor, I’ve got some here.”

After he hung up, the room fell quiet again.

Cheng Ke didn’t know whether he should say thank you. Every time he was with Jiang Yuduo, he felt this dizzy, flustered rush. Except for that day when they drank…

“Play for a bit,” Jiang Yuduo suddenly stood up, dragged a chair over, and sat beside the table. He casually took a bag from under the coffee table and dumped it onto the table.

“Play… what?” Cheng Ke stared in shock at the salt spilled all over the table.

“Pictionary,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“The two of us?” Cheng Ke asked. “Then isn’t it way too easy for you to guess what I draw?”

“Playing or not?” Jiang Yuduo looked at him.

“Fine, how do we play?” Cheng Ke sighed.

Jiang Yuduo brought over an hourglass and set it on the table, then picked up his phone. “Thirty seconds on the hourglass. Start timing from when you begin drawing. Just find some novel or something, in order, and draw the nouns you come across.”

“Okay.” Cheng Ke nodded, took the phone, opened a novel website, and randomly tapped one.

“I’ll draw first, and you guess?” Jiang Yuduo said, looking at the phone.

“Alright.” Cheng Ke nodded and smoothed the salt on the table.

“Coming,” Jiang Yuduo flipped the hourglass and started drawing on the salt with his finger. “One character.”

Cheng Ke stared at his hand. First he drew a square, then he drew four vertical lines at the corners of the square.

“Bed,” Cheng Ke said.

“Right,” Jiang Yuduo nodded, got up, grabbed a bag of cat food, set it aside, took one piece out, and placed it by Cheng Ke’s hand. “Your turn now.”

Cheng Ke looked at the phone.

It was a morning. Miss Three was sitting in front of the mirror…

“Two characters,” he said. He flipped the hourglass, swiped a hand across the salt, and started drawing a mirror.

First an oval.

“Egg,” Jiang Yuduo said. “Chicken egg, duck egg, goose egg.”

“Wrong.” Cheng Ke kept drawing. In order to make it easier for Jiang Yuduo to understand, he decided to draw a simple little girl’s vanity mirror, the kind that sat on a table and could turn around. It should be obvious at a glance.

He drew a vertical line on one side of the oval.

“Balloon,” Jiang Yuduo said.

He drew another on the other side.

“Ice cream,” Jiang Yuduo said.

He drew a base underneath.

“Globe,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“Two characters,” Cheng Ke reminded him.

“Qiu yi,” Jiang Yuduo said.

“…There’s such a thing?” Cheng Ke was a little helpless. He hurriedly started drawing a person beside it, a chibi little figure combing her hair in front of the mirror.

After a few strokes, Jiang Yuduo slapped the table. “Makeup!”

“Makeup is a fucking verb,” Cheng Ke said, glancing at the hourglass. It was about to run out.

“Looking in the mirror!” Jiang Yuduo slapped the table again.

The tiny bit of sand left in the hourglass was knocked empty by that slap.

“Mirror!” he shouted again.

“Time’s up,” Cheng Ke said.

“No,” Jiang Yuduo grabbed a piece of cat food and placed it in front of himself. “My turn.”

“Fine.” Cheng Ke patted the salt off his hands.

Jiang Yuduo looked at his phone, clicked his tongue, and drew two circles in the salt with his finger. “Two characters.”

“Glasses,” Cheng Ke said.

“No.” Jiang Yuduo drew a few more strokes.

Cheng Ke looked at it, and it looked even more like glasses. “Sunglasses, blindfold.”

Jiang Yuduo glanced at him and carefully poked a bow shape between the two circles.

“…Bra?” Cheng Ke was speechless.

“Fuck, you can do it,” Jiang Yuduo said. “I thought you wouldn’t get this.”

Cheng Ke took the phone and scanned it. Earrings.

“They’re both two characters,” he said, quickly drawing a circle, then two small half-circles on either side of it. “Two characters!”

“Tanghulu,” Jiang Yuduo frowned. “Why do the things you draw look so far off from your sand-art level?”

“To match your level,” Cheng Ke said, then added two more small circles to the half-circles, then drew an arrow pointing to them. “Two characters!”

“Earrings!” Jiang Yuduo roared.

Mao was so startled that he leaped off the sofa and fled into the bedroom. Cheng Ke was also a little tachycardic from that shout.

“Correct.” He took a piece of cat food and placed it beside Jiang Yuduo.

Next, Jiang Yuduo drew a trapezoid that was almost triangular, then added a line to the long side. To be honest, the thing was a little abstract, but Cheng Ke could still guess what it was from the earlier bra.

“Underwear,” he said.

“Four characters,” Jiang Yuduo looked at him.

“…Triangle underwear?” he tried.

“Fuck,” Jiang Yuduo nodded. “Right.”

On Cheng Ke’s side, Miss Three kept fussing in front of the mirror. After earrings came a necklace, but because this was a pearl necklace, Cheng Ke drew a shell as a clue, and Jiang Yuduo pointed at the shell and shouted butterfly, so he got it wrong.

“What kind of novel did you click on,” Jiang Yuduo sighed. “Is this some fucking fashion guide… My turn.”

“Draw,” Cheng Ke nodded.

Jiang Yuduo looked at the phone and seemed to freeze for a second.

“What is it?” Cheng Ke asked.

Jiang Yuduo bit his lip and drew two circles.

“Bra,” Cheng Ke said.

Jiang Yuduo clicked his tongue and drew a mushroom shape pointing up between the two circles.

Cheng Ke froze when he saw it. After a long while, he finally said, “Are you reading smut?”

“What do you care?” Jiang Yuduo pointed at the drawing. “Two characters!”

Cheng Ke had already guessed what this thing was, but he really couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“The more vulgar two characters,” Jiang Yuduo added.

“…Fuck,” Cheng Ke sighed. “I concede.”

Jiang Yuduo flipped through the phone again. “This chapter is way too fucking smutty… Are they padding the word count? Writing this much.”

“Switch to another one,” Cheng Ke said. “What the hell are you reading?”

“Cultivation stuff,” Jiang Yuduo said. After thinking about it, he looked at him with an expression that said he wanted to ask but didn’t quite want to, but in the end he still asked, “Hey, Cheng Ke, let me ask you something.”

“Mm.” Cheng Ke wiped the drawing off the table.

“Do you usually read that kind of stuff?” Jiang Yuduo asked quietly. “You know, gay smut books?”

“No,” Cheng Ke said, narrowing his eyes. “I read porn videos.”