Bamboo shadows flickered, stretching out under the silver moonlight, leading straight to the end of the road.
Lu Huai’s profile was cast in shadow. The octagonal lantern above sputtered, casting a weak, intermittent light that caught on his eyelashes, softening the cold sharpness of his features.
Chi Yuan, having regained some clarity, looked up and was caught off guard by the sight. He was stunned by the sudden elegance of the scene. By the time he fully reacted, the other man was holding his hand to unlock the door with a fingerprint scan.
Supported as he was led inside, Chi Yuan hung his head, his thoughts a chaotic mess. The drowsiness and intoxication continued to churn in his chest, paralyzing his ability to think. He recognized Lu Huai, but had no plan for how to face him, so he kept his eyes closed, hoping to muddle through the situation.
Lu Huai placed him on the bed, his gaze deep and filled with countless unnamable emotions. He stood staring at Chi Yuan, unconsciously rubbing his fingertips. After a long while, Lu Huai finally looked away. He stood by the window. His car was parked below, its headlights flickering like his own unsteady heart.
He had originally intended to stay and care for Chi Yuan after the man got drunk, so he had sent the driver away, never expecting the night to turn into an intimate, secluded encounter.
Lu Huai pressed his fingers against his lips; they seemed to still tingle with a heart-wrenching numbness. He lowered his lashes, feeling as though the warmth of Chi Yuan’s presence still lingered on his skin.
Afraid to dwell on it, he stared at his fingertips and pulled his lips into a thin line. He pushed the window open, letting the cool breeze roll in to clear his head. I cannot take any of this seriously, he told himself.
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and pressed it to his lips. As the sparks ignited and formed a crimson flame, his silhouette blurred within the smoke, becoming even more elusive. He rarely smoked; it had been a momentary impulse. Disliking the scent, Lu Huai frowned. His fingers were already resting on the tip, but he did not extinguish it. He curled his fingers and let it burn to the end, his expression one of profound loneliness.
Chi Yuan, rubbing his aching forehead, watched the scene in a daze. In his memory, Lu Huai never touched cigarettes; he could not even imagine how someone as refined as Lu Huai would let himself be tainted by the smell of smoke.
I never expected this. Chi Yuan’s expression turned mocking. In just two short years, he realized he truly could no longer understand Lu Huai, not his newfound habits, nor the tattoo that had inexplicably appeared on his wrist.
Pale white smoke swirled around Lu Huai’s face. Watching from the shadows, Chi Yuan felt that even with the warm glow of the ember, the man appeared chillingly indifferent.
It is rare to see such emotions on Lu Huai when he is sober, Chi Yuan thought. Is he melancholic? For whom? Who could make him break his own rules, care so much, or lose control? A sudden surge of resentment flooded his chest. Chi Yuan raised his phoenix eyes, catching the reflection of those eyes through the mirror: cold, indifferent, as if they held nothing at all.
Chi Yuan clenched his fists. He had seen that look in Lu Huai’s eyes thousands of times before. Every single time, it was as if Lu Huai did not care about anyone, and no one could ever enter his heart, no matter how hard he tried.
Drunkenness is always the best excuse for a provocation. Chi Yuan could not identify the source of his inner pain, only wanting to hide those eyes, eyes that clearly held emotions he could not decipher, yet were explicitly unrelated to him.
He wanted to hide them, or perhaps, cover them up.
Chi Yuan stood up and approached Lu Huai, only to watch as the man suddenly extinguished the cigarette with his fingertips. The heat seared his skin, leaving it crinkled, and a look of surprise crossed Lu Huai’s face.
“Lu Huai, you?”
Chi Yuan, acting on instinct, took Lu Huai’s hand. He had no clear thoughts in his mind; he simply pulled the man closer.
Lu Huai wanted to struggle, but the sharp pain from his fingertip where he had crushed the fire became strangely overwhelming, leaving him in a daze. He could only curl his fingers tight, his gaze fixed on Chi Yuan’s back as the man walked forward silently.
“Why the tattoo?” Chi Yuan’s voice was as low as a mosquito’s hum. The stagnant emotion in his chest would not dissipate, making even breathing difficult. He turned to Lu Huai, dying to know who could be the one the other man cared about so deeply.
Due to years of aggression or perhaps a pride he could not put into words, he swallowed the question, yet he longed to pull that tattoo out and see it clearly.
Touched by a secret he could not bring himself to reveal, Lu Huai’s patience snapped. He shoved the other man’s hand away, his eyes filled with dark, suppressed anger. “Have you had enough?”
Chi Yuan did not hear him. All he could see was the word “étoile” etched into the pale skin, proving with an indelible mark that Lu Huai possessed a singular, eternal affection for someone.
Some actions seem beyond the control of reason. Lu Huai’s eyes were full of surprise, a flustered helplessness Chi Yuan had never seen before. He pushed against Chi Yuan, not letting him get an inch closer to the tattoo.
“A sweetheart?”
“Yes.”
Recalling Lu Huai’s clear, undeniable answer, Chi Yuan’s precarious sanity finally collapsed. His eyes sank, fueled by a possessive desire he did not even understand himself. Anger pushed him to embrace Lu Huai, as if this was the only way to confirm the man’s existence.
Lu Huai was completely stunned.
Chi Yuan squeezed him so hard he could not breathe. Held tightly in the man’s arms, Lu Huai looked at the side of Chi Yuan’s neck with complex emotions, the resistance he had held within silently collapsing.
He let his guard down.
Chi Yuan did not know that those peach-blossom eyes always looked at him silently when no one was watching. But at this moment, they were so filled with raw emotion that when Lu Huai’s lashes lifted, it was as if he could ignite a galaxy of stars, dazzling and beautiful.
He could not resist lowering his head. His burning lips pressed against the corner of Lu Huai’s right eye, slowly moving upward until they kissed the mole that made his heart sway.
The scene from the past repeated itself. The tattoo seemed to grow hot. Lu Huai closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if to swallow his own pounding heart.
He could not refuse.
Chi Yuan’s kisses moved downward, pecking at Lu Huai’s cheek. The coldness naturally inherent in his phoenix eyes had transformed into a thick, intoxicating passion, tempting the other to sink deeper.
Over a decade of heavy affection, two years of drifting apart, and the impossible longing written stroke by stroke.
Lu Huai suddenly wanted to be reckless once. He looked into Chi Yuan’s eyes; in this moment, they held only him.
Then I will beg for a single moment of confusion.
His head rested on the soft bedding, yet he felt enveloped by the tide of the ocean.
Chi Yuan pecked at Lu Huai’s Adam’s apple, feeling the man’s stomach tighten. An inexplicable joy made him chuckle softly, his eyes carrying a hint of mischief. Even as his consciousness faded, he knew clearly that the person before him was Lu Huai.
As long as it is Lu Huai, it is fine.
Hoarse voices, swaying light and shadows.
Lu Huai let go of his resistance, his features hidden in indulgence.
For both himself and Chi Yuan, he whispered to himself: It is only this once anyway. He had always been proud and arrogant, so he had kept his mouth shut, saying nothing for all these years. He was only confirming the possibility.
Chi Yuan watched the pinkness of the peach blossoms. He could not stop his movements; everything in his mind related to Lu Huai turned into a phantom image. A certain desire was ignited: he wanted Lu Huai to look at only him.
The corners of his eyes were stained red, and the moonlight stretched their shadows, as if time were passing without a trace.
The ocean waves seemed fierce, overwhelming the whimpers and trembling, leaving only the rocks to be tossed about by the rising and falling tide.
The flower stamens bloomed at a certain moment, a gorgeous, tragic splendor.
Only the dampness of their touch and their reflections in each other’s eyes remained.
Time lost its meaning.
The intoxicating anesthesia faded. Lu Huai seemed to have been steeped in the alcohol as well, wrapped in Chi Yuan’s scent. His voice was hoarse, and he could only cough twice.
Just a thought for myself, Lu Huai thought. He straightened his clothes, his eyes flickering. He swept a gaze over Chi Yuan’s sleeping face, finally landing on the man’s slightly callous lips. He should never have taken the initiative to kiss someone else.
Quietly, he leaned down. Enduring the soreness, he gave a light peck, only to hear Chi Yuan murmur a name.
What?
Lu Huai froze, wanting to hear clearly.
“Fang Qiming.”
Chi Yuan frowned, immersed in the reversal of time. Fang Qiming and Lu Huai were walking together, laughing. But he saw the relaxation in Lu Huai’s brow. The entanglements of all these years seemed never to have existed. He had not been with Fang Qiming, and Lu Huai had not gone abroad.
This was the scene of their first meeting. In the dream, Chi Yuan’s voice was hoarse. The first impression of his emotions was magnified. His phoenix eyes held deep revulsion, and he had only one thought, one that coincided with his unclarified feelings from that time. Now, he finally straightened it out: “Fang Qiming, stay away from Lu Huai.”
But in reality, only the gnashing of teeth at the name “Fang Qiming” dissipated into the air.
Lu Huai curled his lips ironically. He lowered his lashes to hide his disappointment, suddenly not knowing what to say.
“Do you really love him that much?”
He sighed, his hands clenched, his features stern, but he refused to believe it.
Lu Huai thought he had probably changed his mind; he did not want to withdraw now. He should have realized this long ago, or he would not have returned to the country. What he sought was to be the one and only. If something else had existed, he would erase it.
I am Lu Huai; what bet can I not afford? His gaze landed on Chi Yuan’s face, and Lu Huai smiled faintly. It was just an all-or-nothing gamble.
Not a loss.
Lu Huai lay back down, his heavy eyelashes shielding an unspeakable exhaustion.
A moment of infatuation, nothing but an all-or-nothing gamble.
The night is lonely, but the day burns like fire.
Chi Yuan felt a chill and slowly opened his eyes. It was always easy to have gaps in memory after drinking, except for the tiny traces of “rouge” on a fair neck and a low, broken voice. Everything else was unreal, save for the eyes lost in the mist, still looking at him with extreme indifference.
He lowered his eyes, shocked to realize that Lu Huai was lying beside him!
What was happening?!
His memory began to backtrack: the cool touch of palms, the kiss on his eyelids, and…
He turned his head stiffly, slowly meeting Lu Huai’s eyes as the man opened them.
The other man propped himself up, the quilt sliding down. Chi Yuan’s gaze dropped involuntarily, and he finally closed his eyes at the mottled, ambiguous marks on his skin. He took a moment to compose himself before accepting the facts.
He struggled to find the words: “That…”
Lu Huai leaned against the head of the bed, feeling weak. After all, the old injury of lumbar muscle strain did not happen in a day or two, and he had not slept well last night due to his restless mind; now, he only felt exhausted.
He raised his eyelids, adjusted his clothes, and gave Chi Yuan a look that was half-smile, half-scorn, though his tone was cool: “We are both adults, Mr. Chi. Do not be so childish.”