Min Zhuozhou’s smile faded slightly. His fair, slender neck arched back, resembling a lone branch stripped of its dense foliage by the late autumn wind.
He fell silent for a moment, then, with practiced ease, opened the glove compartment in front of the passenger seat. He rummaged through it and pulled out a pack of menthol cigarettes. Tearing open the pack, he plucked a single cigarette with two fingers, gripped it by the filter, and placed it between his lips.
Xiao Qi was surprised, yet not surprised. He glanced at him and asked gently, “Why aren’t you lighting it?”
Min Zhuozhou bit down on the filter, his upper and lower teeth suddenly clamping down to crush the menthol capsule inside. A cool, delicate fragrance mingled with the heavy scent of tobacco wafted toward him. But he made no move to light the cigarette. Biting the filter, he glanced at Xiao Qi and said tersely:
“Rumor has it, smoking causes erectile dysfunction.”
Xiao Qi was amused. He gestured with his eyes for Min Zhuozhou to keep looking in the glove compartment. “I’ve got candy.”
Min Zhuozhou’s handsome brow arched slightly. “You even know I’m quitting smoking?”
“Tang Liu told me,” Xiao Qi replied, burning his bridges and tossing the blame onto someone else without a second thought.
Min Zhuozhou thought for a moment before putting the cigarette pack back. He ended up pulling out only a single can of White Rabbit Creamy Candies. His expression turned deadpan. “Milk candy?”
Xiao Qi didn’t mention his own twisted amusement, only saying, “So you’re being picky now.”
Min Zhuozhou twisted open the candy jar, took one for himself, and then tossed one to Xiao Qi.
Holding the steering wheel with one hand and popping the candy into his mouth with the other, Xiao Qi’s voice carried a hint of sweetness as he steered the conversation back: “You’re angry because I mentioned ‘him,’ aren’t you?”
Min Zhuozhou glanced at him from under his eyelids. “Even candy can’t shut your mouth.”
Xiao Qi smiled slightly. In truth, traffic into the city was extremely congested at this hour, yet his driving was impeccable, patient, steady, and devoid of any “road rage.” He seemed like a completely different person from that idiot who threw money around in comment sections.
After a moment of silence, he reined in his performative restlessness, his voice turning gentle as he spoke.
“Five years ago, I kept trying to get you to go abroad with me. I said we should just part ways amicably, but when I finally realized you were actually stepping back, I discovered just how not carefree I truly was.”
Min Zhuozhou froze for a moment, then closed his eyes wearily, interrupting him. “Xiao Qi, I’ve always felt it’s easier for us to just be friends.”
Xiao Qi ignored him. These words seemed to have been bottled up in his heart for too long, tinged with a hint of desolate bitterness: “I thought the same in the beginning. A lifelong friend seemed a much better deal than a fleeting lover. But Zhuozhou, you can’t lie to yourself. During those five years abroad, every single day I missed…”
Min Zhuozhou froze. After a long silence, he let out a sigh, like a petal being brushed away.
“Xiao Qi, you just haven’t met a man who’s your type yet.”
Hearing this, Xiao Qi pressed the brake. He stared at the scenery ahead for a long time before letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Maybe. But by the time I realized it, you were already engaged.”
No matter how seamlessly they ever pretended, the long years had still carved a chasm between them, like an old scar, dividing them clearly into two separate shores.
Five years ago, or perhaps even earlier, when Min Zhuozhou and Xiao Qi were still college classmates, they had a thing.
One was the Crown Prince of the Xiao family, wielding absolute power; the other was a rose of the Min family, specially cultivated for high society. From the very start, they were two profligates mutually corrupting each other. Whether it was the ambiguous probing or the stinging passion, neither ever took the other to heart.
In this game-like romance, the one who catches feelings first always loses.
Back then, Xiao Qi was a notorious ladies’ man, while Min Zhuozhou, despite his reputation as a playboy, was a “curiosity” who only pursued emotional connections without ever crossing the finish line. Xiao Qi had always found this frustrating. One night, using alcohol as an excuse, he decided to force the issue. But he was met with Min Zhuozhou’s utterly calm response: “You’ll have to take responsibility.”
Xiao Qi burst out laughing in sheer exasperation. He cupped Min Zhuozhou’s face and asked, “Baby Zhuozhou, how old are you? Do you still live in the Qing Dynasty’s inner chambers?”
Min Zhuozhou looked completely innocent. “Otherwise, Min Xing will kill me.”
Taking responsibility was obviously out of the question. Xiao Qi’s status meant he had no say in his own marriage, and the crumbling Min family was hardly a suitable match. That night, he withdrew, feeling a wave of boredom. The next day, they both acted as if nothing had happened, yet it also felt as if they had reached the end of the road.
Later, Xiao Qi decided to go abroad to pursue his career in drama and playwriting, feeling that the domestic scene didn’t meet his expectations. He invited Min Zhuozhou to join him, but was predictably rejected.
“You can’t give me anything, and I can’t give you anything,” Min Zhuozhou told him with absolute composure. At the time, Xiao Qi just thought he was being melodramatic.
This kind of “excessive pragmatism” was just another way of describing a transaction devoid of pure emotion. At the time, Xiao Qi had no idea what Min Zhuozhou’s situation was within the Min family, so he couldn’t understand. He simply broke up with him with a flourish and walked away with a flourish.
It wasn’t until he woke up in the middle of the night countless times, startled by dreams of his old friend, that he realized he had thought himself free after throwing away the rose, only to find his palm full of the thorns that had pierced it.
At first, he was indignant, then enraged. It took him a long time to barely be able to face his own feelings. But when he finally tried to look back, he found that the light boat had already passed ten thousand mountains… Min Zhuozhou had actually gotten married.
Xiao Qi had always felt that the kind of behavior- crying, making a scene, and threatening to hang oneself when unable to get what one wanted- was incredibly tacky. He had considered starting a new relationship more than once, but each time, he would give up before it even began. After tossing and turning over it time and again, he finally understood what it meant to be utterly devoted to only one person.
The increasingly impatient honking from the car behind brought Xiao Qi’s thoughts to a sudden halt. He saw Min Zhuozhou, sitting beside him, cast a confused glance his way. Xiao Qi then released the brake as if nothing had happened, facing the traffic light that had long since turned green, feeling quite apologetic toward the car behind.
Xiao Qi raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, explaining his distraction: “Sorry, I was on a plane for over ten hours.”
Min Zhuozhou: “Why didn’t you book first class?”
Xiao Qi gave him a long look, his lips curving into a smile. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
Min Zhuozhou laughed it off, not believing a single word.
Once they were past the worst of the rush, the rest of the trip was smooth sailing. Xiao Qi took Min Zhuozhou to a small, secluded restaurant. They had just sat down when Min Zhuozhou’s phone chimed. He looked down and saw a brief reply from Pei Che: “Working late, just saw this.”
The chat remained silent, just as it always did, as if waiting for the other person to start the conversation.
Min Zhuozhou narrowed his eyes slightly, then flipped his phone face down on the table.
Xiao Qi studied his expression and guessed correctly. “Pei Che?”
Min Zhuozhou propped his chin on his hand and looked at the menu. “People who are too smart never end well,” he said coolly.
Xiao Qi’s eyes curved, a hint of schadenfreude in his gaze. “Why aren’t you replying?”
Min Zhuozhou: “Want to share the crabmeat lion’s head meatballs?”
Xiao Qi replied with a string of “Yes, yes, yes,” then sighed. “Baby Zhuozhou, we used to tell each other everything.”
After ordering a few dishes, Min Zhuozhou finally looked up, his gaze serious as he asked, “Are you a masochist?”
Xiao Qi:?
Min Zhuozhou: “Then how did you develop the habit of asking your ex-boyfriend’s current partner about his preferences when you have nothing better to do?”
Xiao Qi silently ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek. After a long pause, he shook his head. “Zhuozhou, you really are…”
Min Zhuozhou looked at Xiao Qi, then said in a voice that was both gentle and blunt: “If you’re trying to gauge my current relationship with Pei Che, you don’t need to go to such trouble. We’re married. Do you understand what I mean?”
At the mention of those words, Xiao Qi’s eyes narrowed sharply for a fleeting moment. Then, his lips curled into a smile as he spoke softly: “And what about four months from now?”
Min Zhuozhou froze, then snapped the menu shut with a sharp thud. “Xiao Qi, knowing too much about things you shouldn’t know will make me feel like you’re overstepping.”
Xiao Qi hummed, his voice melodious and drawn out, showing no hint of guilt. “Then… sorry?”
Even though Min Zhuozhou knew Xiao Qi’s temperament all too well, he still felt a surge of irritation. He had to summon all the restraint he had cultivated over the years to keep from cursing him. He tried to stand up, but Xiao Qi’s hand shot out and pressed him back down.
Xiao Qi’s tone turned more serious. “You promised to welcome me back.”
Min Zhuozhou glanced at the hand on his shoulder and emphasized, “You also said, as friends.”
After a long moment, Xiao Qi reluctantly raised his hands in surrender, casting a pitiful, pleading gaze at him.
Min Zhuozhou stared back for a beat before finally settling back into his seat. They had broken up amicably years ago, and meeting again after so long, he didn’t want things to get too tense… But that was on the condition that Xiao Qi, just like before, would give them both some breathing room.
Xiao Qi clearly realized he had been pushing too fast. He quietly suppressed the intense, dripping affection in his eyes, forcing it back into his narrow pupils.
When the man looked up again, his expression was as light as a breeze. He stopped pressuring Min Zhuozhou to respond to anything about Pei Che and focused on chatting instead. They talked about everything under the sun, from the dishes and drinks on the table to his experiences over the past five years, then to plays and movies, without any restraint.
Min Zhuozhou listened quietly, occasionally chiming in with a few words. Xiao Qi’s talent was proportional to his rebellious streak. The fact that the Crown Prince of the Xiao family could withstand the pressure to go abroad and direct plays was surreal in itself, yet it felt completely natural on him.
Aside from the slight tension at the beginning, the rest of the meal was a pleasant affair for both guest and host. Since Xiao Qi was driving and remained completely sober, the wine had all gone into Min Zhuozhou’s stomach without him even noticing.
Min Zhuozhou felt nothing at first, but as he rose to leave, his vision suddenly blurred. He stumbled back half a step, only to be caught by Xiao Qi’s quick reflexes. They were suddenly pressed close together, so close that Min Zhuozhou’s back was flush against Xiao Qi’s chest.
Xiao Qi’s gaze darkened instantly, his heart racing from the sudden, unexpected closeness.
Min Zhuozhou quickly steadied himself, shaking off Xiao Qi’s hand before exiting the restaurant and waiting for him in the car.
Inside the vehicle, the air was a blend of incense, citrus, and woody notes. This fragrance, at times intense, at others fresh, seemed slightly out of place in the modified Mercedes-Benz G-Class, yet Min Zhuozhou found it hauntingly familiar… It was the same perfume he had been so fond of five years ago.
Their verbal banter was a mix of half-truths and half-jokes, and Xiao Qi’s lingering glances were far from innocent. Min Zhuozhou knew all too well what the “Crown Prince” of the Xiao family was trying to imply with his grand appearance. Yet Xiao Qi played the game perfectly, pushing boundaries only to retreat the moment he crossed a line, all while subtly testing Min Zhuozhou’s limits.
At times he was brazenly arrogant, and at others, he deliberately blurred the lines of their relationship. This ambiguity made it all the more difficult to refuse him.
The thought of having to deal with this returned bastard of a young master filled Min Zhuozhou with a mix of melancholy and a headache. This emotional turmoil manifested physically as a sharp, squeezing pain in his temples. He leaned his head back against the seat, silently cursing how much his alcohol tolerance had dropped over the years.
The car was so silent you could hear a pin drop. With no one to disturb him, Min Zhuozhou closed his eyes and drifted into a nap, cradled by the familiar scent filling the space.
“Baby Zhuozhou…”
Xiao Qi had just stepped into the car after paying the bill at the bar, his voice dropping an octave the moment he saw the scene.
Min Zhuozhou was leaning quietly against the seat, his breathing steady and shallow. His sharp, well-defined features were backlit by the light from outside, casting a soft glow on his long, thick eyelashes, which shimmered like diamonds. He looked ethereal and gentle.
Is he asleep?
Xiao Qi’s movements became infinitesimally lighter. He silently traced the man’s features with his gaze, his eyes darkening in the dim light, filled with a deep, sinking intensity and a predatory edge. It seemed as if he might lean in at any moment, crossing the line he had spent five long years maintaining.
The next instant, an annoying ringtone abruptly shattered the silence. The music pulsed through the air, striking Xiao Qi’s ears and drawing a click of displeasure from his lips. Following the sound, he saw the phone still clutched in Min Zhuozhou’s hand. The screen was flashing, displaying the caller’s name,
Pei Che.
Xiao Qi paused, his gaze fixed on the phone. Then, with a movement so light it was almost imperceptible, he took it from Min Zhuozhou’s hand and answered the call, his expression unreadable.