On the way back to campus, the two in the front seats chatted casually. Shen Mu asked Xu Siming if his coursework was intense and if he had adjusted to the local food; Xu Siming, maintaining a composed demeanor, replied that he had settled in well since his return.
Perhaps because each had their own thoughts, neither of them tried to strike up a conversation with Zhuang Yusheng. Zhuang Yusheng was perfectly content with the quiet in the back seat; he was grateful Xu Siming had taken the passenger seat—otherwise, he would have had to endure Shen Mu squeezing his thigh while driving.
Shen Mu dropped them off at the university’s east gate. While luxury cars were a common sight there, Xu Siming still drew the gazes of passersby; he seemed to possess a natural ‘protagonist aura,’ instantly becoming the focal point wherever he went.
Zhuang Yusheng had just closed the car door and hadn’t yet shouldered his backpack when his phone vibrated. Glancing down, he saw a message from Shen Mu: I’ll pick you up at the west gate.
He paused and glanced back at Shen Mu’s car—a movement Xu Siming immediately noticed.
Seeing him look at someone else right after checking a message made it easy to infer a connection between the two.
Xu Siming grasped the implication: parting ways here meant little when the two could simply meet up elsewhere. He looked from Zhuang Yusheng to Shen Mu’s departing car, frowned slightly, and asked, “What are your plans for later?”
Zhuang Yusheng naturally replied, “No plans.”
“That works out perfectly,” Xu Siming said. “I’m not very familiar with the campus yet; show me around.”
Zhuang Yusheng couldn’t agree immediately—after all, in Xu Siming’s eyes, he was likely hoping to sneak off for a private meeting with Shen Mu. So, he asked, “Classes started a week ago—you’re still not familiar with the place?”
Xu Siming replied, “If I were familiar with it, I wouldn’t have been late for the lecture this morning.”
His reasoning was sound, yet he failed to realize that his answer betrayed the fact that he was merely making an excuse to prevent Zhuang Yusheng from meeting Shen Mu. Had it been a genuine request, he would have explained why he was unfamiliar—such as not having had time to explore yet—rather than emphasizing the inconvenience caused by his lack of familiarity, effectively making it impossible for Zhuang Yusheng to refuse. Zhuang Yusheng quickly replayed his conversation with Shen Mu in his mind. Shen Mu hadn’t said anything that would incriminate himself; instead, he had turned the tables and pinned the blame on Zhuang Yusheng. Zhuang Yusheng wasn’t sure how much Xu Siming had overheard, but the final remark—that he had seduced Shen Mu—almost certainly hadn’t escaped Xu Siming’s ears.
As a live-in son-in-law of the Xu family, Shen Mu had always maintained the image of a model husband in the eyes of others. Even Zhuang Guilan didn’t know his true colors, let alone Xu Siming, who had only recently returned to the country.
Piecing this together with their earlier conversation, one could infer Xu Siming’s version of events: Zhuang Yusheng had calculatedly seduced Shen Mu; Shen Mu had dutifully fulfilled his role as a husband for Xu Ruomei’s sake, but now that his wife had passed away, he had decided to give in to temptation.
Consequently, in Xu Siming’s eyes, Zhuang Yusheng was the one at greater fault.
This shift changed the nature of their interactions; while their earlier conversation had been casual and straightforward, things were no longer so simple. Zhuang Yusheng was now acting and playing a calculated game, while Xu Siming was on guard, scrutinizing him.
That suited Zhuang Yusheng just fine.
If Xu Siming believed the fault lay with Shen Mu and focused his efforts there, Shen Mu would have plenty of ways to handle it. But if Xu Siming chose to target Zhuang Yusheng instead, the initiative would remain in Zhuang Yusheng’s hands.
Zhuang Yusheng curled his lips in a look of feigned reluctance and lowered his head to reply to Shen Mu’s message: [Xu Siming wants me to show him around the campus.]
Then, putting his phone away, he conceded, “Alright.”
His phone buzzed again, but he couldn’t be bothered to check it.
Entering through the school’s east gate, one was greeted by rows of academic buildings; aside from the neatly trimmed greenery lining the paths, there wasn’t much scenery to speak of.
Although Xu Siming had said he wanted to tour the campus, his gaze remained fixed straight ahead, and he showed no signs of wanting to strike up a conversation. Zhuang Yusheng didn’t mind spending time with a handsome guy, but it was no fun if the guy didn’t engage in conversation. He simply tilted his chin toward the less-crowded medical school area and brought up the Xu family: “Want to go check it out over there? There’s a teaching building funded by your grandfather.”
Xu Siming said, “Sure,” and followed up with, “How long did your mom work for our family?”
“Three years, I think,” Zhuang Yusheng said. “She started right when I entered university.”
“So you…” He seemed about to ask something else when a tall, burly guy walked toward them. Upon spotting Zhuang Yusheng, he called out, “Hey, Xiao Yu.”
Zhuang Yusheng said “Hi” back. Seeing the guy was carrying a basketball, he asked, “Going to play?”
“Training.” The guy glanced at Xu Siming and teased, “Is this your new flame? No wonder you’ve been ignoring your old love here.”
The guy was the captain of the school basketball team—handsome and well-built—and was also on Zhuang Yusheng’s ‘roster,’ nicknamed ‘Muscle Stud.’
He and Zhuang Yusheng had met on a dating app. The guy had pursued him, and Zhuang Yusheng—finding him cheerful and decent—had flirted with him for a while. However, he later discovered the guy was a massive player with an uncountable number of “fish” in his pond, so he abandoned any idea of taking things further.
“Yeah, my new flame.” Zhuang Yusheng kept walking as he said this, failing to notice Xu Siming’s momentary look of surprise; Xu Siming had sized the other guy up before catching up to Zhuang Yusheng.
After that, Xu Siming fell silent again—perhaps because Zhuang Yusheng’s habit of “flirting” with anyone, anywhere, had once again shattered his expectations of social norms.
It wasn’t until they reached a quiet, tree-lined path that Xu Siming finally spoke. He dropped the subtlety and went straight to the point: “Are you gay?”
Inquiring about someone’s sexual orientation usually calls for tact—especially for someone raised in a place like the “Land of the Free” (the US), where one should know that sexual orientation is considered sacrosanct.
But Xu Siming wasn’t like that; his question was aggressive, as if Zhuang Yusheng were obligated to answer him. Moreover, there was a look of regret in his eyes, as if he were discussing something truly heartbreaking. Zhuang Yusheng guessed that what the other guy really wanted to ask was: “How did you turn my uncle gay?”
Leaving Shen Mu aside for a moment, Xu Siming was clearly straight—there wasn’t a shred of possibility that he was gay. Otherwise, he would have added Zhuang Yusheng on WeChat back on the bus at the very latest.
Although Zhuang Yusheng wasn’t tall and had a slender build—not the kind of broad-shouldered, imposing hunk who grabs your attention at first glance—once you actually noticed him, you’d see his features were exquisite. He had double-lidded, almond-shaped eyes that crinkled into a bright, lovely expression when he smiled.
To use the words of that muscle-bound guy from earlier, Zhuang Yusheng was the ultimate ‘dream catch’ for a ‘Top’—the kind of person who really stirred up a desire to protect him. Of course, that guy would say anything sweet to try and woo him, but based on his own life experience, Zhuang Yusheng knew he did indeed easily attract other gay men; otherwise, he wouldn’t have ended up entangled with a deeply closeted man like Shen Mu.
Conversely, if Xu Siming were gay too, their ‘gaydar’ would have locked onto each other instantly; there would have been no need to ask a question like that.
Zhuang Yusheng turned to look at Xu Siming. He had to tilt his chin up slightly to meet Xu Siming’s gaze directly; his almond-shaped eyes curved softly, the outer corners lifting just a touch. “Guess.”
Xu Siming said, “You are.”
Zhuang Yusheng shrugged nonchalantly. “So what?”
Xu Siming blurted out, “You and my un…”
The young master seemed to have some mental reservations; he didn’t want to admit he’d been eavesdropping. Even though he’d already formed the words with his lips, he swallowed the term ‘uncle’ back down.
But Zhuang Yusheng needed Xu Siming to bring up Shen Mu. Like a patient teacher gently guiding a student, he asked, “You and me… what?”
Xu Siming said, “Never mind.”
Zhuang Yusheng clicked his tongue in mild annoyance and decided to change the subject. “Want to go to the cafe?”
The campus café was located next to the creative goods shop; it was stylishly decorated, looking very much like one of those trendy spots people flocked to for social media photos. The cafe was packed with students on that Saturday afternoon; most were chatting, while a few occupied tables alone to work on projects. Without exception, they used expensive laptops paired with pricey headphones—a display that, in Zhuang Yusheng’s eyes, was nothing but posturing.
He ordered a cappuccino at the counter, then walked over to the glass display case. Pointing at the tempting row of cheesecakes, he told the staff, “I’ll take this one, this one, and this one. I’ll eat the plain one here; pack the vanilla and sea-salt ones to go.”
At thirty yuan a slice, Zhuang Yusheng wouldn’t usually splurge like this. He walked over to Xu Siming—who was still placing his order—and tossed out a casual, “You’re treating.”
He then found an empty table and sat down before finally taking out his phone.
[Shen Mu: Just find some excuse to brush him off.]
The message had arrived twenty minutes ago; accounting for the drive from the East Gate to the West Gate, Shen Mu had likely been waiting for fifteen minutes.
Just as Zhuang Yusheng was about to reply that he couldn’t get away, a new message popped up in the chat: [Haven’t you come out yet? I have a social engagement later.]
What’s with the rush?
Zhuang Yusheng tossed his phone aside with an indifferent expression and didn’t reply.
He really couldn’t be bothered to deal with Shen Mu; as long as he had a reasonable excuse, whether or not he replied depended entirely on his mood. Some people were just gluttons for punishment—if you ignored them, they’d think you were playing hard to get. Zhuang Yusheng was a master at striking that balance. He had already provided an explanation—he was keeping Xu Siming company—so he knew Shen Mu wouldn’t get angry even if he didn’t reply; in fact, Shen Mu might even view him as a tantalizing, maddening little tease.
Xu Siming paid and walked over carrying the cakes. “Why am I treating?”
Zhuang Yusheng said, “Because you’ve got money.”
Xu Siming fell silent. Although his face remained impassive, Zhuang Yusheng could read the thoughts in his eyes: People of low character will always find ways to take petty advantage of others, and being so brazen about taking petty advantage really confirms that low character. He pushed the cake toward Zhuang Yusheng. “So, you didn’t get into the finance department because your scores weren’t high enough?”
“No.” Zhuang Yusheng scooped up a spoonful of cake and, biting down on the spoon, said, “I like literature, but my mom wouldn’t let me pursue it.”
“Why?”
“My dad was a rural poet—a good-for-nothing who was also abusive. My mom thought there was no future in literature and was dead set against me following in his footsteps.”
Zhuang Yusheng’s mindset shifted rapidly. When he viewed Xu Siming as the ‘star’ on his roster of conquests, he felt ashamed to reveal his family background. But once he began to see Xu Siming merely as a tool to handle Shen Mu, he no longer minded exposing his own impoverished reality and was inclined to cultivate a persona that elicited sympathy.
Xu Siming possessed a ‘Schrödinger-esque’ sort of upbringing—sometimes displaying manners, sometimes not. When he needed a servant, he showed no courtesy whatsoever; yet, when the situation called for the social responsibility expected of the wealthy, he would express genuine sympathy for others’ misfortunes. The judgmental look in his eyes faded, and his tone returned to normal. “Did your parents divorce?”
“No,” Zhuang Yusheng said. “My mom just ran off.”
On a rainy night, Zhuang Guilan took five-year-old Zhuang Yusheng and left that small village, beginning a life of drifting through big cities.
From then until now—over a span of more than a decade—Zhuang Yusheng had never really had a home. His definition of home was simple: stability and peace. Yet, just as he would finally settle into a place, Zhuang Guilan would land a new job and drag him off to move again.
For a time, Zhuang Guilan dated a man who looked honest and reliable—someone she’d met at the bathhouse where she worked. They began living together, and it took Zhuang Yusheng at least a year to accept this new ‘dad.’ Just when it seemed life was looking up, the situation fell apart; it turned out the man already had a family, and the mother and son were kicked out by his legal wife, leaving them to drift once more.
Zhuang Guilan worked all sorts of jobs—doing manicures, selling clothes—before eventually becoming a live-in nanny. By then, Zhuang Yusheng had started middle school and was living in a dormitory, so the very concept of ‘home’ became even more alien to him.
“So, my mom wants me to buy her a big house.” Zhuang Yusheng drew out the word “big” for emphasis. “She thinks working in finance is the most lucrative thing you can do.”
The fluffy foam atop the cappuccino gradually dissolved, blending into the dark brown coffee. Zhuang Yusheng finally finished recounting his background and ate the last bite of his cheesecake.
Xu Siming had been listening intently; he’d forgotten that his Americano was long gone, repeatedly picking up and setting down his empty cup, clearly completely absorbed in Zhuang Yusheng’s story. Yet, the point he latched onto was completely different from what Zhuang Yusheng had anticipated: “That man who looked so honest—couldn’t you have sued him for bigamy?”
True to form for a lawyer’s son, he had a keen legal mind.
But that detail didn’t matter to the story as a whole; Zhuang Yusheng had fabricated that part to add drama and highlight the tragedy of his upbringing, not to deliver the satisfaction of seeing a villain get his comeuppance.
In reality, Zhuang Guilan had met a few men who seemed honest and reliable, but things always fizzled out once they learned she came with ‘baggage’—a child in tow. There was no ‘original wife’ in the picture, and Zhuang Yusheng had never gained a new father.
He sighed. “My mom wouldn’t know anything about that sort of thing.”
“So, are you still in touch with your dad?”
“Of course not. I’ve always considered him dead.”
Xu Siming mused for a moment. “So, you grew up without a father’s love.”
Zhuang Yusheng wanted to laugh; he lowered his head, struggling to suppress a smile. He found the ‘young master’ rather endearing—he had actually rationalized Zhuang Yusheng’s motives for seducing Shen Mu. He stirred his now-cold cappuccino. “You could say that.”
Xu Siming asked another question: “Since you love literature, you must really admire my uncle-in-law, then?”
Finally. Xu Siming had finally mentioned Shen Mu. Zhuang Yusheng hadn’t brought it up directly because he didn’t want to seem too abrupt; after all that leading up to this moment, he finally said, “Yeah, I really like Teacher Shen’s books. He’s having a book signing tomorrow, and I’m planning to go show my support.”
The atmosphere shifted subtly. Xu Siming remained composed. “You’re meeting him tomorrow?”
Zhuang Yusheng looked expectant. “Mhm.”
Xu Siming said, “I’ll go with you.”
Zhuang Yusheng feigned disappointment. “What for?”
“I’ve never been to a book signing; I want to check it out.”
“You’ve got a lot of free time, huh?”
Xu Siming didn’t argue back against the jab; instead, he unlocked his phone, tapped a few times, and slid it toward Zhuang Yusheng. “Add me on WeChat.”
Zhuang Yusheng glanced at the WeChat contact card on the screen but didn’t move. “I thought you didn’t add people on WeChat?”
Xu Siming replied, “I don’t add people who are just trying to hit on me. I only add people when there’s a reason.”
Just as he finished speaking, a voice called out, “Senior!”
Zhuang Yusheng recognized the voice and looked over to see an acquaintance walking toward their table.
The acquaintance was a junior student of his—a girl known as the ‘campus beauty’ of the Chinese Department. She was sweet-looking and knew about Zhuang Yusheng’s sexual orientation; the two of them often bonded over mocking guys who were ‘average yet overconfident.’ She looked from Xu Siming to Zhuang Yusheng and asked with a smile, “Senior, what’s going on here?”
Zhuang Yusheng tilted his chin toward Xu Siming. “My boyfriend.”
“Oh, come on,” she complained playfully. “Why are all the handsome guys gay?”
She had only stopped by to say hello. After she left, Xu Siming frowned. “Why are you spreading rumors?”
“You don’t like people hitting on you, right?” Zhuang Yusheng rested his chin on his hand and said with an innocent expression, “I was just helping you out.”
A flash of distaste crossed Xu Siming’s eyes—likely thinking, That’s just how he is—so he didn’t say anything more and unlocked his phone screen again. “Hurry up and add me.”
After scanning the QR code, Zhuang Yusheng held his phone up to cover the lower half of his face; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to hide the triumphant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Xu Siming’s WeChat nickname was ‘Ming’; Zhuang Yusheng deleted those letters and assigned him a shield symbol as his contact label.
Afterward, Zhuang Yusheng put down his phone and quietly gazed at Xu Siming across the table, saying to himself: “Hello, my new shield.”