Being Gay Is Harder Than Reaching the Sky
The next morning, the weather was pleasant. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a diagonal beam across the bare legs of the two still slumbering from their drunken night.
Half-asleep, Xiao Han turned over, feeling something against his hand and leg that made him uncomfortable. It took him a while to open his eyes, feeling a throbbing pain in his temples.
He rubbed his brow, then found it impossible to ignore the naked man sprawled out in a starfish position beside him, still deep in slumber.
“…Last night, I was with this guy in the bathroom… Why can’t I remember what happened after that…” Xiao Han tilted his head, frowning as he tried to recall, but to no avail. His gaze lingered on the other’s raised backside for a moment before he made a decision.
He sat up, waved a hand in front of Wen Muyan’s face, and whispered in his ear, “McDonald’s? McDonald’s?”
Confirming that Wen Muyan was still asleep, Xiao Han got up, crouched by his legs, and in a rather unsavory manner, spread the man’s buttocks to take a closer look—everything seemed normal, no redness, swelling, hemorrhoids, or any traces of certain cooled white bodily fluids.
Despite the seemingly normal situation, Xiao Han suddenly felt tense: “…No way, could it be that I was the one on the receiving end last night?”
Though he knew it was unlikely, Xiao Han couldn’t help but turn his face, kneel, and reach back to check himself. Finding everything intact and without any pain, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and turned back around.
—Only to find a pair of dark eyes silently staring at him!
Xiao Han was so startled that his mind went blank, and then he heard Wen Muyan mumble, “Xiao Han taking the initiative to ride? I must be dreaming…” before his head lolled to the side and he fell back asleep.
“…”
Xiao Han’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. He swore to himself that one day he would get back at this guy, but for now, he quietly dressed, slipped on Wen Muyan’s slippers, kicked his own shoes under the bed, and “kindly” gathered Wen Muyan’s scattered clothes to send them for cleaning.
“Young master, you’re finally awake. Did you sleep well last night? I’ve been waiting downstairs at your hotel for quite some time, and I’ve had breakfast sent up…” Xian Fu’s voice droned on.
“Alright, I got it.” Xiao Han interrupted Xian Fu’s chatter with a mouthful of milk. “How’s everything at home?”
“Everything’s fine, except young master Zhuo tried to escape several times yesterday but failed. He accidentally twisted his ankle, but a private doctor has seen him, and it’s nothing serious. However, he can’t get out of bed for a few days.”
Hearing this, Xiao Han let out a cold laugh: “Well, that’s good news. Finally, some peace for a few days.”
“Anything else you need, young master?”
“You all can head back first.” Xiao Han checked the time. According to the script, he had to visit the injured Zhuo Fan in the afternoon, leaving him some free time until then.
“Yes, young master.”
“Wait,” Xiao Han switched his phone from his left hand to his right, glanced at the half-open door, and said quietly, “Bring over two sets of clean clothes, including underwear, in my size.”
“Understood, young master.” Hanging up, Xian Fu, ever dutiful to the young master’s orders, set off seriously towards the clothing store.
Wen Muyan awoke from hunger, his stomach growling. As he rubbed his messy hair, he caught the scent of breakfast wafting in from the other room. But soon he realized his predicament—his slippers and clothes were missing!
He immediately guessed who was responsible. Did that idiot think he was some farmer who stole a fairy’s clothes?
Wrapping a towel around his waist for modesty, Wen Muyan walked barefoot out of the room, only to find Xiao Han leisurely reading a newspaper and munching on an apple, waiting to see his reaction.
“Xiao Han, where did you hide my clothes?” Wen Muyan, stark naked, squatted on a chair and grabbed a piece of bread to stuff in his mouth.
Xiao Han peeked out from behind the newspaper, smirking evilly: “Sent them for cleaning, including your underwear.”
Wen Muyan slammed the table in anger: “Where’s your humanity?”
Xiao Han lifted his gaze to look at him: “Never had any.”
“…Stop messing around.” Wen Muyan felt a headache coming on again as he ate breakfast and muttered, “I didn’t even do anything to you yesterday, why are you being so petty… I guess hoping you’d sit on me and serve me is just a dream…” Whatever daydream he was having brought a foolish smile to his face.
Though he muttered quietly, Xiao Han, with his sharp ears, heard every word. With each word, his expression darkened further until he finally tossed the newspaper aside and said coldly, “What are you laughing at?”
With his cheeks puffed full of bread, Wen Muyan chewed for a while before swallowing and chuckled coldly: “Nothing, I wouldn’t laugh myself to death like someone else…”
“…”
Xiao Han stopped abruptly, like a tape recorder running out of power, and expressionlessly picked up the newspaper again, burying his head behind it.
“Hey, you’ve got the newspaper upside down, you idiot!”
Despite Xiao Han’s lack of humanity, Xian Fu still retained a sliver of it. Finally dressed, Wen Muyan thought tearfully, though the size seemed a bit too large. With others around, it wasn’t the time to say much, so he gave Xiao Han a look that said “see you later” and left on his own.
After stalling as long as he could, Xiao Han reluctantly drove back to the Xiao family home.
The bodyguards watching over Zhuo Fan saw the young master enter with a sullen face and quickly closed the door without a word.
“Xiao Han, what did you do to Muyan?”
Zhuo Fan, lying on the bed, heard the commotion and quickly sat up, tears streaking his face as he struggled to get out of bed, only to be thrown back by Xiao Han.
“Ha, I didn’t expect your relationship to be so good. I had agreed to let you two meet, but now I’m reconsidering.” Xiao Han pressed Zhuo Fan down on the bed, his dark eyes fixed on Zhuo Fan’s, a cold gaze seemingly hiding some kind of anger, making it hard for Zhuo Fan to breathe.
Zhuo Fan bit his lip, the panic in his eyes unable to hide his joy. Xiao Han seemed even angrier upon noticing this, though he didn’t know why. Wasn’t Zhuo Fan just a pawn to seize the Zhuo family’s power?
Why did he feel such jealousy when Zhuo Fan kept calling for that man named Wen Muyan? Could it be…
“Tell me, have you fallen for that Wen guy? Have you two already slept together?” Xiao Han narrowed his eyes slightly, his fingers brushing over Zhuo Fan’s trembling lips, then gripping his slender neck, gradually increasing the pressure.
Zhuo Fan’s eyes widened in disbelief, his cheeks flushed from lack of air: “What nonsense are you talking about! Muyan is my good friend. Xiao Han, you can take revenge on me, hate me, but how can you doubt me? Muyan grew up with me. Now that I’m locked up by you, he’s worried about me and tries to save me. As for you, no matter what I say, you won’t believe me. Your heart is only for the dead Liang Chenli! You might as well strangle me; I don’t want to see you anymore.”
With that, he closed his tearful eyes, no longer struggling, resigned to his fate.
Xiao Han snorted heavily, releasing his grip, and instead started to strip him. Zhuo Fan’s eyes flew open, glaring at him with anger and sorrow.
“Zhuo Fan, listen to me. Even if Wen comes to see you, he won’t touch you!”
Xiao Han raised his voice, sounding furious, his rough actions full of desire. Just as Zhuo Fan, despairing, thought he was about to be humiliated again, there was a knock at the door: “Young master, your private call, they say it’s a matter of life and death.”
Hearing this, Xiao Han immediately let go, leaping up like a rabbit and rushing out of the room.
Once in the study, Xiao Han yelled into the phone: “You bastard, you sure know how to time it. A bit later and I’d have lost my dignity!”
Wen Muyan’s slow voice came through the line: “Really? I thought you’d be too busy with your beauty to care about my meddling.”
Xiao Han leisurely sat down, sipping tea to calm himself: “Don’t worry, even if I hadn’t gotten the call, I wouldn’t have gone through with it. The script just skips to the next day with an ellipsis, whether I spend the night poking him or just sleep through it.”
“…Who’s worried?”
Xiao Han chuckled: “Then who made these seventeen missed calls?”
“…”
Wen Muyan coughed on the other end, then said, “Does this script have nothing but XXOO in its head? No matter if you’re angry, vengeful, or jealous, with Zhuo Fan it’s always about poking him. Why is it that with the same jealousy, the scumbag is burning with desire, while the masochist is heartbroken and angry? Why is there such a big difference between men?”
Hearing his complaints, Wen Muyan laughed a few times: “The script says three days later, I’ll come find you tomorrow?”
“Be careful not to get caught by the guards.” Xiao Han mentally reviewed the past three days, finding nothing significant except Zhuo Fan’s usual failed escape attempts.
“Don’t worry, visiting your house is like strolling through a garden for me.”
In response, Xiao Han hung up the phone with a huff.
Despite his words, Xiao Han still discreetly reassigned some of the household staff to make it easier for a certain someone to sneak in and cause mischief under the script’s nose.
Wen Muyan snuck into the Xiao household the following evening, right after dinner during the shift change when security was at its laxest.
As he climbed to the second floor, sticking to the wall like a gecko and heading toward Xiao Han’s room, he unexpectedly encountered Zhuo Fan doing the same, trying to escape!
The two “geckos” stared at each other for a moment, and Zhuo Fan, overwhelmed with joy, shed tears of gratitude: “Muyan, did you come specifically to save me?”
Wen Muyan was equally surprised, though not at all pleased. His face twisted as he looked at the hand Zhuo Fan clung to, speaking with a mix of sadness and pain: “…Yes…”
Zhuo Fan dragged him to a small balcony where they could stand, hugging him tightly around the waist: “Muyan, why are you so good to me? I’m not worth it.”
Worth it, my foot! I’m here for Xiao Han!
The wind howled, the horses neighed, and Wen Muyan’s heart roared: Go play somewhere else, you damn fool!
With his limited strength, Wen Muyan looked down at Zhuo Fan’s iron grip around him, tears streaming in the wind. This truly was a tragic tale.