“……Is this enough?”
Song Qie kept both hands behind his back, pressing down the hem of the dress. Feeling that gaze—one that felt as if it could swallow a person whole—he found it impossible to stand still comfortably.
The bedroom floor was covered in vintage green floral tiles, their deep colors marked by the passage of time. A pair of fair, slender legs stood barefoot on the floor, the white jade-like arches of his feet rubbing against each other.
The soles of his feet must be dirty by now.
“Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Lu Beihuai walked into the bedroom, casually closing the door behind him.
The “thud” of the closing door wasn’t particularly loud, yet it echoed heavily in Song Qie’s ears like some sort of warning.
Seeing Lu Beihuai approach, the scene from the previous night suddenly flashed through Song Qie’s mind. He instinctively took a step back, but the back of his knees accidentally hit the edge of the bed. He tumbled back onto the mattress, and the hem of the dress, which barely reached his thighs, flared out with the movement.
Fortunately, he propped himself up with his hands behind him, preventing a clumsy fall.
He had no idea how he looked slumped on the dark bedsheets—milky-white, slender arms bracing himself, thin shoulders looking elegantly bony under the camisole straps, and legs that were straight and beautiful. It was a sight that would become a lingering, feverish dream and a reality for many nights to come.
“……Sorry.” Song Qie whispered an apology. Just as he tried to sit up, Lu Beihuai stepped right in front of him.
The next second, his body froze.
Lu Beihuai bent down, casually dropping to one knee. He grasped one slender, clean ankle and rested it on his own knee, looking up: “Your feet will definitely get dirty if you don’t wear shoes.”
With that, he opened the nightstand drawer, took out a pack of wet wipes, pulled one out, and began wiping the sole of the foot resting on his knee.
He was meticulous with every spot, even the gaps between the toes.
The slightly rough texture of Lu Beihuai’s palm holding his foot made Song Qie incredibly ticklish. His fair toes curled up, and he tried to pull away, but Lu Beihuai held on firmly. “……It tickles.”
“I still have to wipe it clean even if it tickles. Who told you not to wear shoes?”
The large hand wrapped around the foot with a certain force, refusing to let him escape just because of the tickling.
Song Qie was naturally very ticklish and already afraid of Lu Beihuai, but being held by the foot made him feel like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Finally, he couldn’t hold it in and collapsed onto the bed, laughing until tears came out. He tried to retract his foot, but it was gripped tightly.
Laughter makes a person hot easily.
Thin sweat broke out on the tip of the boy’s nose as he lay sideways on the bed. His long, straight legs hung off the edge. Because of the tickling, the straps on his shoulders shifted; one thin white strap slipped down his shoulder, and as he laughed, he didn’t even notice the fabric at his chest becoming loose and messy.
His shoulder rubbed against the quilt, turning a soft red, and because of his cool, pale skin tone, his joints showed a hint of pink.
The cleaned foot was like a little fish, causing the skirt to hike up and vaguely reveal a corner of white trim as it struggled to break free from the large hand.
“……Is that enough? It tickles so much.” Song Qie rested his head on his arm, panting from laughter. He felt both embarrassed and uncomfortably hot.
As if his eyes had been burned, Lu Beihuai let go of the slender foot. He reached down, picked up the used wet wipe, tossed it into the trash can, and turned to walk out of the bedroom.
“Lu Beihuai!” Seeing Lu Beihuai leave so suddenly, Song Qie scrambled to his feet. “Can I take the dress off now?”
“No.”
By then, Lu Beihuai was already outside.
The answer came from across a wall; his voice was low and muffled, as if he were restraining something.
Song Qie: “……”
Just as he was about to ask why, he saw Lu Beihuai walk back in carrying his white sneakers in one hand and an old DSLR camera in the other. His brain stalled for a moment.
Lu Beihuai placed the shoes in front of Song Qie. As he straightened up, his finger hooked the strap that had fallen off Song Qie’s shoulder and pulled it back up. “Are you putting the shoes on yourself, or do you want me to help you?”
“I-I’ll do it myself.” Song Qie quickly sat down, bending over to pick up his socks.
His slender legs were bent as he braced his feet against the edge of the bed. Since the skirt wasn’t long to begin with, he had no idea what kind of impact this movement was having.
As he put on the white mid-calf socks, his long, fair fingers tugged at the edges, adjusting them until they snuggly wrapped around his slender ankles. The movement seemed slowed down in Lu Beihuai’s field of vision, acting like a visual tease that stimulated his newly calmed heart rate.
Song Qie finished his socks and was seriously putting on his shoes, unaware that the gaze in front of him was burning like fire. After he finished, he stood up quickly: “……I-I’m done.”
He happened to lock eyes with Lu Beihuai and found the man’s expression dark and terrifying.
Song Qie’s heart skipped a beat. “……” What was it this time?
Was he not following the other’s wishes enough? He even wore the girl’s clothes!
Lu Beihuai took a step forward.
Song Qie’s shoulders tightened, and he instinctively stepped back: “…Wh-What are you doing?”
He saw Lu Beihuai leaning in close to him. Terrified, he pursed his lips tightly. His heart suddenly accelerated, and by reflex, he closed his eyes and shielded his face with his arms.
In the end, he only felt a tug on the hem of his skirt which had been bunched up.
“……”
The atmosphere fell into a moment of silence. Nothing is scarier than a sudden silence.
“Your dress wasn’t straight.” Seeing Song Qie suddenly close his eyes with his whole face turning bright red, Lu Beihuai thought to himself: Does this guy think I’m going to kiss him?
“Oh……” Song Qie carefully opened one eye. Seeing that nothing had happened, he breathed a huge sigh of relief and lowered his arms.
Lu Beihuai let out a short laugh.
Song Qie: “?”
“Would you be willing to do anything I ask of you right now?” Lu Beihuai pulled a nearby chair over and sat down. He picked up the camera and raised it to his eye.
The viewfinder framed the boy’s sudden look of nervousness.
“Wait, wait, wait—” Seeing this, Song Qie hurriedly waved his hands and stepped forward to cover the camera lens. “What are you doing? Taking photos without my consent is a violation of my portrait rights!”
Because he was nervous, his voice started to tremble and sound tearful again.
Lu Beihuai lowered the camera to his side. He looked at Song Qie, who had walked right between his legs. Seeing the boy’s frantic, near-tears expression, he just stared at him wordlessly.
The atmosphere hit a deadlock again.
But the silence was broken by this lopsided gaze between the strong and the weak. This silence was loud.
Song Qie clenched his hands to soothe his nerves. When he pursed his lips and met Lu Beihuai’s gaze, his heart jolted.
This man was holding a camera, sitting in a casual posture, but the gloom and silence beneath his gaze felt like an accusation. Clad in a veneer of stillness, he was using silence to vent suppressed emotions.
“Sit properly.”
The two words were spoken without much tone, yet a sense of danger filled the air.
Song Qie’s hand covering the lens trembled. It felt as if a dense fear was creeping up his spine. His throat felt dry. “…Lu Beihuai, don’t take photos.”
“So, it turns out you also feel bad and uncomfortable.” Lu Beihuai grabbed the slender wrist that was blocking the camera and repeated: “Sit properly.”
Terrified by this feeling, Song Qie could only retreat and sit obediently on the edge of the bed.
He looked at Lu Beihuai cautiously: “I’m sitting.”
Lu Beihuai let go. His long legs were spread out as he tilted his chair back. He raised the camera again, pointed the lens at Song Qie’s pale face, and started snapping away.
The clicking sound of the shutter was clear and ironic.
The flash was incredibly blinding.
True to this man’s style, once his secret was discovered, he stopped hiding. He met violence with violence, acting as if he had nothing left to lose, completely unafraid that someone might expose his secret.
This was the madman raised by the past “Song Qie.”
The camera captured one image after another of him with red eyes, a pale face, and clenched hands—looking exactly like prey targeted by a predator, terrified because he was about to be hunted.
It wasn’t until those clear, glass-like eyes entered the camera’s focus—filled with both timidity and tears, yet with lips pursed and teeth gritted—that the finger on the shutter paused for a moment.
“Lu Beihuai, you’ve worked so hard these years. By staying by my side, you can get a degree from a famous university abroad and my parents’ support and trust. Aren’t… aren’t you afraid I’ll tell my parents?”
Song Qie felt like he was sitting on pins and needles. He could only grip his knees tightly. His voice trembled violently, carrying a sob.
“It doesn’t matter.” Lu Beihuai lowered the camera. “I don’t care anymore.”
His father probably wouldn’t be able to restrain him anymore.
Fine, he was free.
Song Qie: “……” Crap, the big boss is emo. He can’t become depressed!
If he becomes depressed and makes a mistake that disappoints ‘Song Qie’s’ parents, then what? Lu Beihuai is the real son! Such a massive family business—he must pull himself together.
“How can it not matter? What if you succeed in the future? I promise you that whatever you want, I will give it to you.” Song Qie simply stood up and took a small step forward. He tentatively reached out and silently covered the camera lens with his palm.
Lu Beihuai glanced at the hand, then looked up at Song Qie: “Coaxing me like this and apologizing… do you want me to like you?”
Song Qie: “.”
Not really, let’s just live in peace.
“Do you think I would fall for an abuser? Am I a masochist? I don’t have Stockholm Syndrome.” Lu Beihuai rested the camera lightly on his shoulder, rocking his chair. “I’m not afraid of you telling anyone about the boxing, either.”
“Go ahead and snitch.”
“It doesn’t matter if Uncle Song and Auntie Song hate me.”
The face in the hospital room flashed through his mind, along with what the doctor had said:
—Even if your father’s bone marrow transplant is successful, he won’t have long to live. Child, you should be mentally prepared.
The sound of the chair rocking and his feet hitting the floor made soft noises.
“There’s nothing left for me to cherish anyway.”
The room’s lighting was dim, and the overhead light flickered twice.
The tall boy rocking the chair kept the camera on his shoulder. The back of the hand holding the camera was covered in bruises, and there was gauze wrapped around his arm. He kept his eyes downcast, his hair obscuring the contours of his eyes.
He spoke words that sounded carefree but were actually incredibly bleak.
In this moment, the aesthetic of dejection took a concrete form. The contradiction of a face that could be humbly gentle to the point of being meticulous, yet also cold-blooded and ruthless enough to throw a punch.
“There is.”
Lu Beihuai’s movement stopped. The chair legs returned to the floor with a “thud.” The boy standing between his legs leaned down and grabbed his other hand. He tried to wrap both his hands around Lu Beihuai’s, holding the camera together with him.
Song Qie’s hands were smaller, barely covering the back of Lu Beihuai’s hand.
His long, together-pressed legs under the skirt were blindingly white, and the hem of the dress lightly brushed against the back of his hand.
Song Qie used both hands to grab Lu Beihuai’s hand, slowly lifted it, and pressed the camera lens against his own forehead. Using Lu Beihuai’s hand, he pressed the shutter button.
Click.
It was as if he had fired a shot at the other person.
His heart dropped heavily.
Lu Beihuai didn’t move. He slowly lifted his gaze, meeting those clear eyes peering at him from beneath the camera—the only light inside this dark square frame.
“I told you, I will donate bone marrow to your father. I will help you. No one will ever bully you again because of your so-called status. There are still things in this world worth cherishing; there is still a lot of beauty you haven’t seen yet.”
Song Qie calmed his nervous, racing heart and added: “I… I will also like you.”
No matter what, he had to coax him first.
At least he had to make Lu Beihuai’s impression of him better.
Through thin clothing, their breathing was shallow and fast. The erratic beat of a heart close by was heard clearly; even the hand holding the camera was shaking.
Beneath the heartbeat, the voice falling from above was clean and gentle.
This confession, spoken in a tone almost like a secret, seemed incredibly innocent and moved something within.
Lu Beihuai laughed again. He grabbed Song Qie’s hand and pulled him into his lap: “If you like me, does that mean I have to like you?”
Caught off guard by the pull, Song Qie landed on Lu Beihuai’s lap. Because he was wearing a dress and sitting astride one of the legs, he could feel the rock-hard thigh muscles. His whole body felt like it was catching fire.
A surge of heat rushed to his head. He tried to stand up by reflex, but he was held by the waist and pinned down.
The large hand completely controlled that slender waist, as if applying just a bit more force would leave a mark.
His body suddenly became rigid, and his gaze swept over Lu Beihuai’s face: “I… I didn’t say that.”
Fine, it didn’t work.
How could Lu Beihuai possibly fall for a bully like ‘Song Qie’?
Nothing worked—not this, not that, not even coaxing. He was indestructible, harder to appease than a romantic partner.
He had even gone as far as wearing a dress.
“Since you know my attitude, you can choose not to like me.” Lu Beihuai gripped the waist; the cool skin was trembling slightly. “You can also go back and snitch, kick me out—do whatever you want.”
He inadvertently glanced down. The flared hem of the skirt could no longer hide the fair, long legs draped over his knees. His gaze darkened.
How could a boy have such clean skin?
“I won’t snitch,” Song Qie said, then pursed his lips and lowered his eyes. “Can’t we just talk things out? I’ve changed. Can’t you just be my good friend?”
“If a single apology from an abuser could make a victim forgive them, then why would we need the police?” Lu Beihuai freed one hand and raised the camera again. He tilted his body to the side and started taking photos of Song Qie again.
The ‘click’ sound and the flash made one feel irritable.
Song Qie reached out and directly snatched the camera from Lu Beihuai’s hand, staring at him with a mix of shame and anger: “…I did bully you, and now you want to bully me too. Then… then what’s the difference between you and me?”
Sitting on his lap and clutching the camera tightly, the beautiful boy was flustered and angry. Thin sweat clung to his nose, and perhaps because of the heat, his glass-like pupils were sparkling.
Since he was wearing a camisole, when he raised his hands, the thin white straps slipped down his shoulders again. His build was thin and delicate, and the top of the camisole was loose and messy, yet he was completely unaware of it as he glared at the man in front of him.
He had zero lethality.
“Mm, you taught me.” Lu Beihuai’s lips twitched slightly.
“You……” Song Qie was speechless. He thought for a bit, wanting to coax him one more time.
Just as he was thinking of what to say, he felt a rough hand brush against his shoulder. It tickled slightly. He couldn’t help but shiver and looked at Lu Beihuai in surprise.
“Your strap fell.” Lu Beihuai hooked the strap from the thin arm back onto the shoulder.
“Then do you mean you’ll forgive me if you retaliate by doing to me everything I did to you?” Seizing the chance while Lu Beihuai wasn’t holding him, Song Qie quickly scrambled off his lap. Holding the camera, he took two steps back and stared at him warily.
“What do you think?”
Hearing the question thrown back at him, Song Qie pursed his lips and fell silent for a while. Thinking about being made to crawl on the ground like a dog, his expression became a bit subtle. He looked at Lu Beihuai and, considering the man’s build, thought it over again.
“……I’m already wearing a dress. I don’t have to be a dog anymore, right?”
Lu Beihuai raised an eyebrow.
Song Qie was a bit conflicted: “You… you’re so heavy. If you crush me, it’s not a good deal.”
Lu Beihuai remained in his seated posture without moving. His gaze rested on Song Qie standing a few steps away. Meeting those wary yet sparkling eyes, the dress seemed to cast a “pitiful” filter over him—his small face was pale, his figure was thin, and he looked as if he would blow away in the wind.
Even though this guy was the abuser in the past.
Now he looked like the victim—eyes red, a little angry, but staring at him with watery eyes while holding the camera.
“The Young Master is right.”
Hearing Lu Beihuai say this, Song Qie’s eyes lit up. There’s hope! Then he saw Lu Beihuai wave him over.
“Come here.”
Lu Beihuai leaned back relaxedly in his chair and just said that one thing.
Song Qie hesitated for a moment, then slowly shuffled over while clutching the camera: “…What is it?”
As soon as he stepped close, Lu Beihuai pulled him right between his legs. His body froze instantly.
Warm breath fell right on his bare midriff. Perhaps because his fever had only recently broken, the thigh he touched felt quite hot through the thin pants. Even such a slight touch was filled with an aura of danger.
The camera in his arms felt like a source of security; he held it tightly and didn’t move. He carefully lowered his eyes to see Lu Beihuai leaning against the back of the chair, holding his wrist, and looking up at him with a casual gaze.
Even though he was sitting and looking up, he was like a beast that had caught its prey, carrying a sense of control that was impossible to escape.
“I naturally wouldn’t have the heart to make you a dog, but I can’t swallow this anger. I also get sad and angry.”
Song Qie hesitated: “…I, I know. Then just say it. What else do you want me to do?”
Whatever tricks you have, bring them on!! He wanted to see how much of his dignity he’d have to throw away.
“Next time, wear a blue little dress. I’ll put stockings on you.” Lu Beihuai gazed at him. “I can kneel down to put them on for you, or you can rest your foot on my leg and I’ll do it.”
Song Qie: “……?”
This pervert.
Did he have to go into such detail?
But! At least it was better than being beaten up!
He suddenly felt a sense of relief, but he didn’t want Lu Beihuai to notice his thoughts, so he lowered his head and acted aggrieved: “…Making me wear a dress again, isn’t that just to humiliate me?”
Lu Beihuai saw that Song Qie, standing between his legs, looked like he was about to cry: “You don’t have to wear it.”
Clearly, it was this guy who had suggested the punishment himself, yet now he was acting shy and hesitant. Whether in the past or now, he was using that innocent, beautiful face to play the victim while being the first to complain.
Song Qie caught a glimpse of the muscular arm resting on the knee, the muscle lines taut and visible—it looked like a silent threat. He shivered: “…I’ll wear it. I’ll wear it.”
“Now, take the dress off.”
Terrified, Song Qie hugged himself and widened his eyes: “…H-Here?”
Lu Beihuai: “What, do you want me to help you change out of the dress?”
Song Qie waved his hands hurriedly: “No need, no need! You’re too kind.” He suddenly felt relieved. Great, he could take it off. “Then do you want me to put the dress back in the bag for you?”
“No need.” Lu Beihuai stood up and took the camera from Song Qie’s hands.
Seeing him take the camera and thinking of the photos taken earlier, Song Qie raised his hand in a panic to try and get it back: “Wait, my photos—”
Lu Beihuai raised the camera in his hand.
Song Qie hopped up a couple of times, but his arms were too short to reach. He was so angry he glared at Lu Beihuai with shame and fury. When he met those dark, cold eyes, he quietly wimped out again: “Will you delete the photos?”
“Why should I delete them?”
“Photos of me in a dress can’t be found by anyone!”
Lu Beihuai put the camera behind his back: “I’ll look at them myself.” With that, he turned and left the room.
Song Qie: “……”
Look at them himself? What’s there to see?
Changing out of a dress only took a few minutes.
In the living room, Lu Beihuai was sitting on a small red chair, leaning forward with his legs naturally spread. He was looking down at the old camera, scrolling through something very intently.
“…Um, I’ve changed out of the dress.”
Lu Beihuai moved his gaze away from the image of the camisole dress and looked up. He saw Song Qie holding the dress, standing at the bedroom door looking restrained and obedient: “Mm. Put it to the side.”
“The tag on the dress is gone.”
“It’s non-returnable.”
“Huh?”
Lu Beihuai lowered his hand, letting the camera hang between his legs, and met Song Qie’s puzzled expression: “I bought it for you to wear. Did you think you’d only wear it once? Keep it to wear next time.”
Song Qie’s head went “buzz.” His expression froze, and then he stared at Lu Beihuai sullenly.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to wear it.” Lu Beihuai lowered his head and continued fiddling with his camera.
“Then will you be happy if I wear it?”
Lu Beihuai looked at the pair of white sneakers standing in front of him without looking up: “Yes.”
Song Qie breathed a sigh of relief. That’s fine then, it wasn’t for nothing. He bent down and squatted in front of Lu Beihuai, propping his head up and looking up to ask: “Then can you forgive me just a little bit?”
He even used his finger to gesture “a little bit.”
The boy squatting in front of him was like a little animal, looking up with curiosity in his eyes. He carried a clean purity that hadn’t been seen before. It made one wonder if love really caused such a transformation—turning a wicked demon into a well-behaved little lamb.
Lu Beihuai’s gaze moved along with that fair finger. Then he suddenly realized what he was thinking. He looked back at his camera. He originally wanted to blurt out “No,” but changed his mind at the last second.
“A little bit.”
If he said no, then next time the boy wouldn’t wear the dress and he wouldn’t get his revenge, right?
How could he let Song Qie off so easily.
“Then can you delete the photos?” Song Qie had no idea what kind of photos this person had taken. The thought made him feel like he was dying of embarrassment. He really had thrown away his dignity by wearing a dress!!
“Depends on your behavior.”
“…Fine then.” Song Qie hesitated for a moment, then added: “But you can’t show them to anyone else.”
Lu Beihuai glanced up at him: “I won’t.”
After saying that, he went back to scrolling through the shots he just took.
Song Qie stood up skeptically. Seeing Lu Beihuai looking so intently, he muttered in a low voice: “…I don’t even know what’s so interesting to look at.”
Perhaps hearing this, Lu Beihuai looked up at him and raised the camera with a deep gaze.
Terrified, Song Qie covered his face: “…Look, go ahead and look. I won’t disturb you anymore.”
If you won’t say, then don’t say. Why do you have to be so scary?
He turned around, picked up his tablet to work on practice problems, and didn’t plan on leaving. Since he had gone this far, he might as well leave a good impression on Lu Beihuai. After all, the guy was still sick and definitely needed looking after.
…
The night grew deep. Outside the window was the noisy sound of cicadas.
The living room light was old, dim, and not very bright.
“Lu Beihuai, did you take your medicine?”
“……”
“Beihuai, do you want some water?”
“……”
“Beihuai, do you want to work on some problems? I’ll teach you.”
“……”
“Beihuai, are you going to rest?”
“……”
“Beihuai, do you need a massage?”
There was a short silence in the air.
Seeing that Lu Beihuai still wasn’t responding—just staring at that broken camera all evening without studying or answering anything—Song Qie was just thinking of giving up since he was so sleepy.
“Yes.”
“Huh?”
He froze and looked over at Lu Beihuai. The moment their eyes met, he was struck by that dark, unreadable gaze. An inexplicable sense of danger filled the air, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have.
Lu Beihuai stared at the stunned, beautiful face without blinking and repeated: “I do.”