He Qian shifted his gaze and looked away. Whenever He Qian was nervous, he would instinctively glance elsewhere. This subtle movement inadvertently triggered images buried deep in Zhou Xuying’s memory.
Zhou Xuying reached out to wipe the moisture from He Qian’s lips and leaned close to his ear, whispering, “Repay me slowly. From now on, I have plenty of time.”
He Qian’s hands pressed against the seat, his knuckles trembling. Tomorrow was the weekend.
Zhou Xuying supported He Qian by the waist, leading the stiff young man from the playground back to the car. As their tall silhouettes vanished into the sunset, a pair of sharp, tense eyes watched the scene intently from the top of the stands a hundred meters away.
The Zhou Residence.
He Qian emerged from the bathroom, water droplets clinging to his long, straight legs as he walked directly to Zhou Xuying. Zhou Xuying sat on the sofa, his gaze traveling upward from below. He rested his chin against He Qian’s collar, his slender hands covering He Qian’s waist and sliding down toward his iliac furrow. It was firm, with the hip bone protruding. It was a beauty that could be felt even without sight.
“Have you been exercising lately?”
“Mhm.”
Zhou Xuying pulled He Qian into his embrace with one arm, pressing against his neck as he said in a thick, raspy voice, “Let me inspect the results.”
The genetic structures of men and women differ beyond just organs. A man’s legs are typically straighter and longer than a woman’s. Coupled with a preference for exercise, the lines of the waist and hips become exceptionally smooth and tight. He Qian’s legs were the perfect exhibit: thin, long, with smooth lines that connected beautifully to his physique.
Zhou Xuying’s palms were burning. “Why are you not wearing the watch?”
He Qian tilted his head back slightly. “Is there a tracker in the watch?”
Zhou Xuying smiled and nodded. “Yes. Not just the watch, the phone has one too.”
Zhou Xuying pressed his hand against He Qian’s abdomen, pointing to a specific spot. With a pathological look in his eyes, he said, “No matter where you are, I will find you.”
It was not just about the person, but everything else as well. Zhou Xuying whispered in He Qian’s ear, “He Qian, I know you far better than you imagine.”
He Qian shuddered, his gaze falling on Zhou Xuying’s wrist. This watch was clearly a pair with the one Zhou Xuying had given him. Seeing He Qian staring at his watch, Zhou Xuying tilted his head and curled his lips into a smile. His thin lips brushed against He Qian’s hair, his voice steady and cold-blooded.
He said, “If you do not wear the watch, you will wear handcuffs. The choice is yours.”
He Qian’s answer was undoubtedly the former. Under Zhou Xuying’s watchful eye, he put on the watch. The cold metal pressed against his wrist bone, making He Qian let out a sharp breath.
He Qian’s obedience and correct choice pleased Zhou Xuying, who kissed He Qian’s fingers. Zhou Xuying loved He Qian’s hands and cherished them deeply. He kissed them passionately and gripped them tight. The electric sensation of their fingers interlocking hit his heart directly.
He Qian did not realize that this simple action made Zhou Xuying so excited and happy. For Zhou Xuying, interlocking fingers brought more than just sensory stimulation; it represented a connection, a tight bond that he had longed for but could never obtain. Zhou Xuying had never revealed his desperate desire for this relationship to He Qian. The more he hid it, the more easily he was triggered.
Today, after Chen Ran gave He Qian water, Zhou Xuying needed He Qian to learn a lesson. Only punishment could make someone remember.
It was 1:00 AM by the time He Qian earned the right to sleep. Zhou Xuying carried the exhausted He Qian to the bed, wrapping an arm around his neck to serve as a pillow. He Qian turned slightly, placing his back to Zhou Xuying. Resting his head on He Qian’s hand, Zhou Xuying patted the sheets in the darkness. After nearly two months together, He Qian had developed the awareness of a lover. He raised his hand, reaching through Zhou Xuying’s palm toward the ceiling, and interlocked their fingers.
His obedience prompted Zhou Xuying to hug him from behind. He Qian felt a chill down his spine and moved an inch away. Zhou Xuying’s eyes darkened as he pressed closer. He Qian pursed his lips; Zhou Xuying was going to sleep with him again. Amidst his thoughts, Zhou Xuying’s magnetic voice drifted into his ear, low and gentle, like a conversation between a sweet, loving couple.
“What do you want to eat tomorrow morning?”
Usually, if Zhou Xuying was not busy on the weekends, he would give the chef the day off and cook for He Qian himself. He Qian had tasted Zhou Xuying’s cooking before; it was excellent.
“Anything is fine,” He Qian said.
Zhou Xuying rested his other hand loosely on He Qian’s waist, leaning down to kiss the back of his neck. “Go to sleep.”
“Mhm,” He Qian replied, but he did not sleep.
He listened as the breathing behind him became steadier. He withdrew his interlocked fingers, moved Zhou Xuying’s hand away from him, and shifted further out. Zhou Xuying opened his eyes in the dark. He stared at He Qian’s back, his hand clenching powerlessly. After He Qian fell into a deep sleep, Zhou Xuying pulled him back in, holding him even more firmly and tightly than before. He Qian groaned in his sleep from the tightness, falling into a nightmare.
Zhou Xuying was also having a nightmare. For years, Zhou Xuying had been plagued by recurring nightmares. He always dreamed of the day He Qian died. He Qian had jumped from a tall building and died right in front of him. There was a pool of crimson on the ground, and a crowd quickly gathered. He Qian lay there quietly, no longer beautiful, his cold edges sharp and biting in the late autumn.
November 9, 2021.
This was the coldest late autumn Zhou Xuying had ever experienced. Not even when he was ten years old, abandoned on the streets in the snow and nearly starving to death, had he ever felt such a piercing chill. Zhou Xuying had desperately held He Qian, his hands trembling, his features contorted in grief, his back bowed in a posture of ultimate defeat. The one beam of light that illuminated his gray world had fallen.
Zhou Xuying thought that perhaps He Qian was just too tired and wanted to sleep, so he took He Qian home to keep him and accompany him in sleep. But He Qian would not speak, nor would he open his eyes to look at him. Zhou Xuying had whispered “I love you” countless times to a decaying corpse. During the two years after He Qian’s death, Zhou Xuying had gone mad.
Tonight, November 9.
Zhou Xuying was jolted awake by the nightmare, trembling as he held the warm He Qian. Zhou Xuying’s eyes were nearly vacant as he whispered, “I will give you the hope to live!”
When He Qian woke up, he rolled over tiredly and unknowingly snuggled into Zhou Xuying’s embrace. Zhou Xuying’s chest was warm. It was late autumn, and heavy rain had fallen in the middle of the night. The blanket was thin, and He Qian was freezing. Zhou Xuying had intentionally chosen not to change the blanket. The physical warmth of a body was far superior to anything else.
“Cold,” He Qian muttered, burying his head into the blanket and against Zhou Xuying’s chest.
Zhou Xuying held the back of He Qian’s head with one hand and hooked a leg over him to provide warmth. He Qian felt it was not enough and pressed his hand against Zhou Xuying’s shoulder. “Cold.”
Zhou Xuying pulled He Qian’s hand inside his own clothes. Feeling the searing temperature, He Qian warmed up almost immediately. He comfortably rubbed his head against Zhou Xuying’s chin as if as a reward. In the next moment, Zhou Xuying gave He Qian’s waist a gentle pat.
“Stop moving.”