Today was Ruan Chen’s birthday and he could not sit still.
He glanced at the clock. There were still thirty minutes until six in the evening.
Mu Xinghai had said he would come over at around six. The closer the time drew, the more restless Ruan Chen became. He more or less knew what was going to happen.
It was something he disliked.
And yet, to say he truly hated it did not seem entirely accurate. Beneath the resistance lingered a faint thread of anticipation he refused to acknowledge, because this was the first time in all these years that someone had placed him so deliberately at the center of their thoughts, wanting to celebrate his birthday for him.
Ruan Chen lived in the doctoral dormitory building at the university. From the day he moved in until now, nearly six years had passed. He still had not graduated. His studies had been extended and he felt as though he were suspended on the brink between survival and collapse.
Over the years, he had juggled his PhD while taking on part time jobs, barely scraping by.
Originally, Mu Xinghai had suggested reserving a table at a restaurant. Ruan Chen had refused outright. He did not want to go out to dinner with Mu Xinghai.
For one man to grandly celebrate another man’s birthday, it was simply too strange.
More importantly, what if someone mistook them for a gay couple?
Lately, Mu Xinghai had grown increasingly unrestrained. He asked Ruan Chen out frequently and even in public places, he made no effort to hide his intimacy, constantly hovering around him, teasing, bothering, lingering too close.
Ruan Chen had told him several times to stop but Mu Xinghai seemed to suffer from selective amnesia. He would agree this time, only to repeat the same behavior the next.
It was deeply troubling.
The mere thought of Mu Xinghai made Ruan Chen inexplicably agitated; his mood tangled together with his heartbeat, both thrown into disorder.
One moment, he hoped Mu Xinghai would suddenly have something come up and be unable to make it. The next, he remembered that Mu Xinghai had said he bought him a cake, had even sent a photo of it. It looked delicious.
This tug of war of conflicting thoughts lasted until 5:45 p.m.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Ruan Chen’s ears twitched almost imperceptibly and he immediately recognized them as Mu Xinghai’s.
How strange. How could he tell so easily?
Yet he did not get up. Mu Xinghai knocked twice on the door, then even called to urge him to open it. Ruan Chen hung up the call before finally rising at an unhurried pace to answer.
When he opened the door, he kept his head lowered and lied uneasily, “I accidentally fell asleep just now.”
Even without lifting his gaze, he could feel Mu Xinghai’s warm, fervent, love laden stare resting on him. Mu Xinghai replied with indulgent gentleness, “It’s okay.”
In Mu Xinghai’s hands was a large cake. Afraid it might be jostled or damaged, he had carried the box with both hands the entire way, carefully maintaining its balance, cautious at every step.
Ruan Chen noticed the detail. The sensation of being treasured made the tips of his ears grow warm but at the same time, it stirred his irritation even more.
He had prepared three dishes and a soup, simple home style fare. Mu Xinghai set the cake on the table, opened the box, inserted the candles and celebrated his birthday for him.
It had been too many years since anyone had done something like this for him. Now that someone suddenly did, Ruan Chen felt an inexplicable sense of embarrassment. He made a wish in haste and quickly blew out the candles.
It was a cheesecake, topped with fresh strawberries. Slightly chilled. The first bite carried a faint bitterness, followed by a returning sweetness. It was not strawberry season; the berries on top were rather sour. Still, considering that Mu Xinghai had gone out of his way to buy it for him and given Ruan Chen’s lifelong habit of avoiding conflict, he said, “It’s very good. Thank you.”
Mu Xinghai’s gaze burned brightly. From the moment he saw Ruan Chen at the door, his eyes had not cooled even once. Now that they were alone, he made no attempt to conceal himself. “I’m glad you like it.”
What a playboy, Ruan Chen muttered inwardly. As if he really liked me that much.
Girls all like this kind of man, don’t they? So gentle and courteous on the surface, as though he were holding the person he loves in the palm of his hand, ready to give whatever is asked, to comply with every request, to indulge without limit.
With just a single kind word from him, Mu Xinghai would brighten in a way visible to the naked eye, as if he had handed the remote control of his emotions directly to Ruan Chen, his mood rising or falling at the slightest phrase, a fleeting glance, the smallest smile.
Ruan Chen refused to believe it.
And besides, what was the truth? How could a seasoned wanderer of the romantic battlefield possibly be so simple?
He himself was nothing more than a failed, impoverished older man, plain in appearance, neither clever nor witty, nearly thirty years old and never once in his life had he been passionately loved by anyone.
After they finished eating, Ruan Chen took the initiative to ask, “Do you want to watch a movie?”
Mu Xinghai replied, “Sure.”
Ruan Chen only wanted to pass the time until it was late enough that he could reasonably ask Mu Xinghai to leave.
But once the idea of a movie took shape, he felt a flicker of genuine interest. Watching films was one of his hobbies. He wanted to recommend one of his favorite lesser known classics to Mu Xinghai, so he put on Hitchcock’s Rear Window.
It was an old film Ruan Chen adored. No matter how many times he watched it, he always found himself completely absorbed.
As a film enthusiast, he had bought a home projector. He turned off the lights, drew the curtains and the two of them sat together on the narrow double fabric sofa, as though they were in a private cinema.
Very quickly, Ruan Chen sank into the story. His emotions swelled with the tension of the plot, his eyes shining.
From time to time, Mu Xinghai would ask about a part he did not understand and Ruan Chen would patiently and eloquently explain. He liked this way of interacting with Mu Xinghai: polite, attentive, never awkward.
Mu Xinghai found him adorable, though he was also a little speechless. Who celebrates their birthday by watching a murder mystery with their lover?
Mu Xinghai was technically his junior from the same university, though from a different department. On campus, however, he was something of a minor celebrity, a handsome guy known informally among students.
Once, a photo of him posted online had garnered thousands of reposts. He had tens of thousands of followers on social media, his daily life polished and enviable. A 24 karat pure gold rich and handsome man and as a social butterfly, he was exceptionally good with people, capable of handling even someone as socially anxious as Ruan Chen with ease.
While Ruan Chen was engrossed in the film, Mu Xinghai peeled a mandarin from the table and fed him a segment.
Still faintly warm, placed into his palm at just the right moment.
Ruan Chen ate it absentmindedly.
When the movie ended, he turned to Mu Xinghai with bright excitement. “Wasn’t it really good?”
Mu Xinghai’s gaze lingered involuntarily on his lips as he humored him. “Yes, it was really good but there was one part I didn’t quite understand…”
Ruan Chen’s eyes lit up. He launched into an enthusiastic explanation, detailing how exquisite the film’s composition was, how ingenious the cinematography, how layered and profound the themes were.
Mu Xinghai watched him, responding at appropriate intervals, though his mind wandered. He was not truly interested in the film but he was deeply interested in Ruan Chen. Especially this version of him, immersed in something he loved, glowing with unguarded passion. It was unbearably cute. So he listened patiently to the end.
Finally, Ruan Chen finished and said, “Then let’s watch another one!”
Mu Xinghai’s heart gave a small crack. “Huh?” he blurted instinctively.
Ruan Chen, slow to catch on, asked, “What’s wrong? Are you tired? It was a bit mentally taxing.”
Mu Xinghai leaned closer. “It’s already nine o’clock, Senior Brother Ruan.”
Ruan Chen understood perfectly well but he pretended not to. “Oh. Are you going back?”
Mu Xinghai could not keep up the act any longer. He looked as though he wanted to pull Ruan Chen into an embrace yet forcibly restrained his own impatience. Troubled, he gazed at him and confessed honestly, “I didn’t really watch the movie properly. I’m sorry, Senior Brother Ruan. Can I stay over tonight? We haven’t seen each other in days. I missed you.”
He added, “I want to be with you.”
The words were restrained, understated yet urgent.
Ruan Chen flushed instantly. He was an extremely reserved and conservative man. He could not understand why Mu Xinghai was always the one to make such requests.
And with another man, no less, didn’t he feel embarrassed saying it?
Ruan Chen stammered, “I… I…”
He desperately wanted to refuse. Mu Xinghai leaned closer. When Ruan Chen turned his head, he saw Mu Xinghai’s handsome, youthful face enlarging in his field of vision, drawing nearer. In his bright eyes shimmered a gentle light. His irises were darker than most, a deep brown black like a still, secluded pool, as though they could draw a person in.
For a moment, Ruan Chen felt bewitched.
He had always been indecisive and even more so when someone expressed need for him. No matter what, he found himself unable to say words of rejection.
He wanted to pull away but Mu Xinghai had already taken his hand, fingers intertwining, kneading lightly at his fingertips.
Seeing no resistance, Mu Xinghai leaned in further, brushing their noses together, lowering his head, finding the right angle and kissing him gently.
Ruan Chen’s mind blanked. He did not even know what was happening; the rhythm had completely shifted into Mu Xinghai’s control.
By the time he regained awareness,
Mu Xinghai’s rough, warm palm had slid to his ankle, clasping it lightly, his thumb stroking along the outside.
Somewhere in his hazy thoughts, Ruan Chen recalled a sentence he had once read online: desire is like lying in a ticklish meadow of grass, a damp snail slowly crawling across your fingertips.
Mu Xinghai wrapped an arm around him and let out a soft laugh, lowering his head to kiss the side of his neck. Warm breath brushed his skin. His voice was teasing, faintly husky. “Senior Brother, you showered.”
Ruan Chen’s face burned red, his heart pounding uncontrollably. He murmured softly, “Of course I showered. It’s my birthday.”
And besides, he wasn’t even Mu Xinghai’s senior brother.
Mu Xinghai’s hand crept upward without a sound.
Ankle. Calf. Knee.
Three, two, one.
Like a gentle knock upon a door steeped in ambiguity, pushing it open softly, slipping downward, descending all the way to the depths.
It was not the first time.
It was always like this. Impossible to refuse.
Mu Xinghai himself felt troubled. This was the first time in his life that he had fallen for a man. He could not quite articulate what, exactly, was so good about Ruan Chen yet his mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him, again and again, without end.
Clearly, it had been Ruan Chen who liked him first.
It was only about five months ago that they had begun to interact closely.
They had known each other for quite a long time before that. Mu Xinghai had seen Ruan Chen a few times in the past but Ruan Chen had always been extremely quiet. Their relationship had been superficial at best. He only knew that Ruan Chen was his girlfriend’s senior, pursuing a PhD, having had his graduation delayed multiple times and working part time as a lecturer.
They had each other’s contact information, quietly resting in their respective address books.
Ruan Chen had been the one to ask for it first, though Mu Xinghai could no longer remember at which gathering it had happened.
Mu Xinghai had a wide social circle, friends of all orientations. Among them was someone named Lin Rong, an openly gay man, transparent about it within certain circles. One day, Lin Rong suddenly asked him, “You seem pretty close with Professor Ruan, right?”
Mu Xinghai asked, “Why?”
His friend said, “Can you help set something up? I like him.”
What? Ruan Chen was gay?
Mu Xinghai felt a flicker of surprise and asked it aloud.
Lin Rong replied, “…He’s been single at this age and there’s never been a woman around him. People have tried introducing girlfriends to him but he always refuses and I have a feeling, I can recognize my own kind. I think there’s an eighty percent chance he’s deeply closeted.”
At the time, Mu Xinghai barely had any impression of Ruan Chen. After thinking about it, he said with slight embarrassment, “I don’t think I’m that familiar with him…”
Lin Rong said, “I thought you two were pretty close. Isn’t he substituting for one of your classes? I’ve seen you standing together talking several times.”
“Ruan Chen rarely initiates conversations with anyone.”
Huh?
Mu Xinghai had never realized he’d been granted that particular honor.
To his own surprise, a spark of interest stirred.
“Really,” Lin Rong scratched his head, blushing like someone deeply in love. “You’re already one of the people he’s relatively familiar with. I can’t find anyone else.”
“I try to talk to him and he just ignores me.”
Mu Xinghai smiled and asked curiously, “What do you like about him?”
In his memory, Ruan Chen had been utterly unremarkable. At class gatherings, he was like a shadow, tucked away in a corner.
Lin Rong said dreamily, “Don’t laugh at me. If you look closely, don’t you think Senior Brother Ruan is actually very good looking? Clean, fresh… I especially like that artistic temperament he has. Sigh… I’ve always liked the literary type.”
Is that so?
Mu Xinghai tried to recall Ruan Chen’s face but it was blurry, indistinct.
“Please help me out,” Lin Rong urged.
Mu Xinghai took a sip of wine and agreed readily, without much thought. “Alright.”
It was only a small favor.
Two days later, it happened to be another one of the general courses Ruan Chen was substituting. Mu Xinghai paid a little more attention than usual, observing him carefully.
Perhaps it was the power of suggestion but after looking a few more times, he realized that Ruan Chen was indeed rather good looking. His features were straight and balanced, the bridge of his nose tall and defined, his skin clean and pale. His slightly drooping eyes carried a faint air of world weariness, aloof yet gentle and harmless.
Mu Xinghai did not think he had stared too obviously yet Ruan Chen, highly sensitive, still noticed. His discomfort was evident; the tips of his ears turned red.
Mu Xinghai’s heart skipped. For some inexplicable reason, he felt embarrassed as well, his own face warming.
Could blushing be contagious?
He had accidentally made girls blush before, that was nothing unusual but a man? This was the first time.
Did he blush just because another man was looking at him?
So he really was gay.
Mu Xinghai thought.
But,
Did he blush when any random man stared at him? he wondered again.
✦ ✧ ✦
Fleurveil
[Translator]
☕ A LITTLE SOMETHING FOR THE TRANSLATOR
⚠️ TRANSLATOR COFFEE LEVELS CRITICALLY LOW ⚠️
☕ BUY THEM A COFFEE →
✧ (づ｡•ㅅ•｡)づ ☕ ✧
✦ thank you for reading ✦
Next →
ChaptersChapter 1 · Rear WindowChapter 2 · Kahlil Gibran, “I Have Spit My Soul Seven Times”Chapter 3 · His ToyChapter 4 · Star GazingChapter 5 · Just a dreamChapter 6 · ColdChapter 7 · Yearning for LoveChapter 8 · A Good PersonChapter 9 · Such a good boyChapter 10 · Delivered to your doorChapter 11 · Not familiar with itChapter 12 · First loveChapter 13 · Giving giftsChapter 14 · HeartstringsChapter 15 · Chinese New YearChapter 16 · TruthChapter 17 · SeparateChapter 18 · Planting minesChapter 19 · ChoiceChapter 20 · More hereChapter 21 · Could things have gotten any worse?Chapter 22 · Not because you like me?Chapter 23 · Not because you like me?Chapter 24 · It’s a tangled mess, impossible to unravelChapter 25 · The truth has been revealedChapter 26 · Extra: 1Chapter 27 · Extra: 2Chapter 28 · Extra: 3Chapter 29 · Extra: 4Chapter 30 · Extra: 5Chapter 31 · Extra: 6Chapter 32 · Extra: 7