“A’Che, I’m sorry for making you come over so late.”
Ji Subai’s expression was haggard, a string of tears clinging to the tips of his thick eyelashes. He looked like a delicate yet fragile climbing flower, leaning listlessly against the bed. A sophisticated woody incense burned by the bedside, further accentuating his aura, which was as elegant as a fine tree.
Pei Che looked down at him from the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke the ends of his hair. “As long as you’re okay.”
The usually reserved and aloof Young Master Pei’s gaze was much gentler than usual. He stared intently into Ji Subai’s eyes, his voice sounding like a deep sigh: “I can’t bear to see anything happen to these eyes again.”
Ji Subai leaned his head into Pei Che’s palm, gently rubbing against it. “I was too careless and slipped, hitting my head. Everything went black for a moment, and I thought my vision was failing. It only just started to recover… I’m sorry to have troubled you to come all this way.”
“Brother Xiaobai, you should still make time to see a doctor for a follow-up,” Pei Che said, not dwelling on the fact that Ji Subai had summoned him to his home in the middle of the night. He discussed it with him seriously. “It’s been nearly eight years. The intracranial hematoma is constantly pressing on your nerves. The hidden dangers will only grow. It’s best to have surgery as soon as possible.”
Ji Subai’s expression went blank for a moment. After a long silence, he finally managed a nod and whispered to Pei Che, “It’s not that I’m avoiding the doctor… but the thought of brain surgery… I’m still scared. If it comes to that, will you come with me?”
Pei Che gazed steadily at Ji Subai. “As long as you agree to do it, I will definitely be there.”
Ji Subai’s long eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and a mist of tears instantly clouded his eyes. “A’che… thank you.”
Pei Che’s usually impassive expression stiffened. He suddenly remembered Min Zhuozhou saying “thank you” to him earlier that night, and the words felt like a knife striking his softest spot. A weightless emptiness hollowed out his chest.
“A’che?” Ji Subai called softly, noticing Pei Che’s frozen face.
Pei Che found himself staring at Ji Subai’s tear-filled eyes, yet his mind insisted that Min Zhuozhou would never show such a fragile, broken expression.
Only after Ji Subai called his name several more times did Pei Che snap back to reality. His gaze dimmed for a moment as he met Ji Subai’s beautiful, trembling eyes.
“Brother Xiaobai,” Pei Che said, leaning down to adjust the pillow behind Ji Subai’s back with incredible tenderness. His voice was soft and gentle, yet it held no further emotion. He stood up to take his leave. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll go now.”
Ji Subai turned his head to face him, speaking in a daze. “It’s very late now.”
Pei Che replied, “I know. Get some rest, and take care of your eyes. I’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment when I have time…”
“Don’t bother with that so late,” Ji Subai interrupted, his expression clearly pleading for him to stay. “I’ll go get the guest room ready. It’ll be quick.”
“Don’t trouble yourself, Brother Xiaobai.” Pei Che had no intention of staying the night and remained unmoved by the request.
“A’che,” Ji Subai called out, his tone now tinged with a hint of supplication.
“I’ll schedule a doctor to examine your eyes when I have time.”
Pei Che finished the sentence he had been interrupted from saying, then stood up and turned to leave.
“A’che!”
Ji Subai suddenly leaned forward, reaching out to grab Pei Che’s hand. His warm palm covered the back of Pei Che’s hand. “Don’t let me see your back… please.”
Pei Che’s body stiffened slightly. He turned and saw Ji Subai’s eyes rimmed with red, gazing at him with a tenderness and warmth that seemed to melt the very ice of early spring.
Ji Subai’s lips trembled as he whispered, “Don’t you understand what I mean?”
Pei Che understood, yet he also did not.
It wasn’t that Pei Che didn’t understand why Ji Subai had called him in the dead of night. But he hadn’t come to rekindle their youthful romance. If Ji Subai hadn’t mentioned his blindness, Pei Che might never have shown up at all.
Yet, he still couldn’t fathom why Ji Subai was doing this now.
Seven, or rather, nearly eight, years ago, just as Pei Che had reached adulthood, his family went through a period of turmoil. His mother passed away from an illness, a blow that devastated his father and left him gravely ill. Thrust into the corporate world at eighteen under immense pressure, Pei Che fell victim to a carefully orchestrated scheme. A car accident ensued, his vehicle fishtailed violently, sending a delivery rider who had been speeding past flying into the air.
That rider was Ji Subai. At the time, he didn’t go by that name; being the youngest in his family, he was called “Ji Xiaobai.” He only adopted the name “Subai” after his debut.
The accident had nearly killed him. The blood clot in his brain had left his most beautiful eyes blind for three months.
Because Pei Che was responsible for the accident, he provided Ji Subai with the best hospitals, medications, and care, both to compensate him as much as possible and because he was suffocating under the weight of his own moral condemnation. Pei Che knew he owed Ji Subai half his life and his sight. After learning about Ji Subai’s meager savings and troubled family background, he had resolved to support him for the rest of his life.
But to Pei Che’s surprise, Ji Subai harbored not a shred of resentment toward him. During that time, they spent countless hours together, and Ji Subai would keep his eyes bandaged as Pei Che read him foreign novels.
The delicate young man’s lips curved into a gentle, elegant smile as he sat in the sun-drenched hospital room, looking as pure as an angel untouched by dust.
For Pei Che, who had just endured his mother’s death, family turmoil, and a devastating car accident, and who constantly suppressed himself under the crushing guilt of having “ruined another’s life”, this sight was fatally alluring.
Pei Che hid his feelings in the hazy depths of his heart, his gaze upon Ji Subai filled with infatuation and a fierce need to protect. Sometimes, he would even carve out an entire day just to stare at Ji Subai’s sightless eyes, daring to touch them only when his “Brother Xiaobai” was asleep.
But the young man’s secret was ultimately unveiled. The day Ji Subai regained his sight, he met a pair of eyes brimming with love. He offered no reciprocation, merely telling Pei Che with feigned indifference that he wasn’t interested in men and that perhaps they should just remain friends.
Pei Che said nothing, only reaching out with reverent fingers to touch the eyes that had seen the light again. When he felt the warm skin of the eyelids, the young man’s fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
Later, Ji Subai went abroad to study, funded by the compensation from the Pei family. Thanks to his musical talent, he joined a Chinese band overseas. Nearly eight years later, he had transformed into a genius singer in the overseas Chinese music scene.
The simple phrase “I don’t like men” had withered and drowned Pei Che’s adolescent crush in its infancy. He was not one to cling desperately, so when they met again, he approached with the simple anticipation of seeing an old friend. Yet he discovered that after eight years, Ji Subai was once again stirring the dormant feelings he had long since moved past, as if trying to rekindle the dead ashes of their past.
Bound by an engagement, Pei Che’s reason and heart forbade him from indulging in Ji Subai’s romantic overtures. Still, he couldn’t help but soften before those bright, gentle eyes, granting almost every request Ji Subai made.
“A’che, I was wrong about everything back then,” Ji Subai confessed. “You know my family environment was terrible; I’d never even heard of love between men. But after I went abroad, I slowly realized how lonely I was… how much I missed you.”
Ji Subai’s long eyelashes fluttered. Countless hidden emotions swirled like stars woven into the Milky Way, shimmering brilliantly in the dim light of the bedside lamp. The intensity of his feelings was so overwhelming it felt as if one could drown in them.
“Brother Xiaobai.”
After a long silence, Pei Che gently withdrew his hand from Ji Subai’s grasp. His voice remained soft, yet it now carried a faint, distant chill. “Don’t bring this up again.”
“Is it because of Min Zhuozhou?” Ji Subai asked as Pei Che turned to leave the room. His voice trembled with resentment and unwillingness. “Have you fallen in love with him? Because of those eyes that look so much like mine?”
Pei Che froze. His gaze dropped, his eyes unfocused.
Time seemed to stretch and then snap forward by a single, effortless tick. The air in the room felt as if it had been sucked dry. The gentle, attentive facade Pei Che had maintained all night finally crumbled, replaced by his usual cool, hard expression.
“Don’t bring that up again, either.”
Without a backward glance at Ji Subai’s reaction, Pei Che quietly opened the door and left.
The early autumn wind swept past Pei Che’s back with a rustle, its chill creeping from his fingertips to his throat.
He snapped back to his senses, only then realizing he had been standing in the empty underground garage for an unknown amount of time, his hand still gripping the car door handle. He opened the door and slid inside, enveloped by the shadows of the steel beast. Only the light from the dashboard illuminated his face, casting a fleeting glow on the straight bridge of his nose.
Fall in love with Min Zhuozhou?
Pei Che replayed Ji Subai’s question in his mind. He found it not only laughable but, deep down, infuriating. He didn’t understand why Ji Subai would even say such a thing, but before the words had even fully registered, he already felt insulted.
The marriage alliance years ago had been a blatant case of the Min family climbing the social ladder. A struggling pharmaceutical company, having seized some of the Pei family’s secrets, had the audacity to propose a marriage contract. Pei Che had been deeply dissatisfied with the arrangement. A union forged through coercion and threats was merely an exchange of interests; it lacked even the soil to nurture any kind of genuine emotion.
Besides, Min Zhuozhou’s personality was like a seductive poppy flower, his eyes were full of you, yet they were also full of everyone else.
Min Zhuozhou… the Min family.
Pei Che’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. A long-dormant restlessness surged within him, a desperate urge to seize Min Zhuozhou and demand he define their relationship.
But even if he asked, he would get no real answer. Min Zhuozhou would only offer a smile, brilliant yet utterly false, and slowly ask what Pei Che wanted to hear, before feigning sincerity as he told him exactly that.
A false marriage, a false tenderness. Perhaps only when desire ran deep did the longing in Min Zhuozhou’s eyes hold a shred of truth, but even then, it was a far cry from what one might call love.
Sitting alone in the car, Pei Che was suddenly seized by an intense impulse, an overwhelming need to see Min Zhuozhou.
The engine’s roar tore through the silence of the parking lot, and the car shot out like an arrow into the empty streets. It sped away, its fading silhouette swallowed by the night as it raced toward the brilliant sea of lights in the distant CBD.
Click.
The lock disengaged. Pei Che strode through the foyer, heading straight for the bedroom door, only to consciously slow his pace and gently push it open.
A small lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Min Zhuozhou was already asleep, curled softly beneath the covers, his brow furrowed in a troubled slumber.