Xing Ye followed him into the hotel again, back to the same room as last time. But when the door opened, the room looked different. A large suitcase lay open in the middle of the floor. Clothes, pants, bags, and other things had been piled chaotically inside until they formed a small mountain.
Sheng Renxing shut the door. Seeing Xing Ye looking at the suitcase, he tossed the key toward the bedside table like a basketball shot. “Score! I’m moving out tomorrow, so I’m packing tonight.”
Xing Ye looked at him, then at the overflowing suitcase. In his opinion, what Sheng Renxing called packing was simply moving his mess from one place to another. “Will all that fit?”
Sheng Renxing looked entirely justified. “If it fit, would I have left it open?” As if Xing Ye had asked an idiotic question.
“…”
“If you pack it like that, your clothes are going to come out wrinkled like dried pickled vegetables.” Xing Ye pointed at the clothes in the suitcase, some of which might have been folded, though it was difficult to tell. One look was enough to know Sheng Renxing rarely did housework.
Sheng Renxing came over. “I folded them the way the auntie at home used to. How was I supposed to know it would turn into this?” He bent down, shook out a piece of clothing, and demonstrated.
Xing Ye watched him crumple a hoodie into a ball in three quick motions. After enduring it for several seconds, he took the hoodie away from him. “If the auntie at your house folded like this, how many times would she have been fired by now?”
He shook it flat again, folded it in half, aligned the sleeves and folded them inward, then rolled the hoodie from top to bottom and flipped the hem over to secure the whole thing.
In barely ten seconds, the hoodie had become a tidy long roll. “This saves more space.”
Sheng Renxing stared at him for a long moment. “Fuck!” He was genuinely amazed. “What are you, some kind of magical housework fairy?”
“…” Xing Ye tossed the hoodie back into the suitcase. “Do the rest yourself.”
“Don’t be like that, bro!” Sheng Renxing fished the hoodie back out and inspected it carefully. He had been planning to throw away anything he could not fit. Who knew Xing Ye had this skill?
“With technique like this, you could enter competitions, right?” He took out his phone and photographed the folded hoodie.
Xing Ye moved his gaze from the phone to Sheng Renxing’s face. “What competition?”
“…A clothes-folding competition?” Sheng Renxing tilted his head and thought, then declared with complete conviction, “You’d definitely come first!”
“If I ever run into one, I’ll be sure to sign you up.” Xing Ye braced a hand on his shoulder and stood. As he rose, his fingers brushed over Sheng Renxing’s hair.
“Tsk!” Sheng Renxing tipped his head back to glare at him. “You’ll stunt my growth.”
“How tall are you?”
“One seventy-six.”
“Didn’t you say one seventy-five last time?” Xing Ye had his hands in his pockets as he looked down at him with one eyebrow faintly raised.
“You actually remember?” Sheng Renxing was speechless. “I grew. How tall are you?”
“One seventy-eight.”
“Hey?” Sheng Renxing slapped him lightly with the hoodie, smiling. “Now you’re just ruining the fun.”
“Want to compare?”
“…”
“Why don’t you shower first?” Sheng Renxing changed topics with perfect naturalness. Then he added with concern, “Don’t catch a cold.”
“Mm.” Xing Ye nodded, half smiling, and did not insist on comparing heights.
After thinking about it, though, he felt something was off. “I’m not that weak.”
“Right,” Sheng Renxing said. “Your cracked rib healed?”
“…No.” Xing Ye fell silent.
Sheng Renxing clicked his tongue twice. “Xing Daiyu.”
“…”
After Xing Ye came out of the shower, Sheng Renxing put down his phone and went in next.
He dug two clean pieces of clothing from the suitcase, looked at the disaster inside, and called, “Xing Ye, help me out?”
Xing Ye sat on the sofa and glanced at him while continuing to dry his hair. “Who’s Xing Ye? Don’t know him.”
“?” Sheng Renxing gave him a thumbs-up. “You’d win first place in a petty-mindedness competition. If you didn’t, it’d have to be rigged.”
Xing Ye ignored him.
Sheng Renxing watched him dry his hair. Xing Ye had not brought clothes, so he was wearing one of Sheng Renxing’s white T-shirts. Drops of water slid from his hair and darkened a patch at the collar, making the fabric cling to his collarbone. Beneath it, the faint shadow of a red mark could be seen.
It had not been there at school that afternoon.
When Xing Ye’s hair was half dry, he noticed Sheng Renxing staring and tipped his head slightly in silent question. His damp hair lay messily over his brows and eyes. His lips, ordinarily a little pale, had gained some color, perhaps from the steam in the shower.
There was an unusual kind of sexiness to him.
Sheng Renxing’s Adam’s apple moved. He immediately pulled himself together and smiled. “Help me out, Brother Xing? Brother Ye? Big Brother Xing Ye?”
Xing Ye looked at him. Something shifted in his expression, then he pressed his lips together as though suppressing a laugh and raised his chin. “Go shower first.”
Sheng Renxing took that as agreement. He smiled, slung his clothes over one shoulder, and went into the bathroom. When he came back out, he froze the moment he crossed the threshold. Xing Ye was sitting on the floor, folding his clothes for him. There was something strangely surreal about the sight. Sheng Renxing stopped and leaned against the doorframe to watch.
After a while, Xing Ye said without looking up, “Supervising me?”
“Tsk.” Sheng Renxing sighed in admiration. “From over here, you look like…”
Xing Ye lifted his head and narrowed his eyes slightly. There was a distinct warning in his gaze.
Sheng Renxing paused, suppressed the smile tugging at his mouth, and stubbornly finished, “A virtuous wife and loving mother packing her husband’s suitcase for a business trip.”
Xing Ye lowered his head without much reaction. “More like a servant waiting on a young master before he goes out.”
“?” The image appeared in Sheng Renxing’s head, and he laughed. “At the very least, you should be a bodyguard.”
He looked at Xing Ye bent forward over the suitcase. The wide neckline of the shirt cast a shadow over his narrow frame; his thin collarbones ran straight beneath the fabric. Sheng Renxing changed his mind. “Actually, no, not a bodyguard.”
“You’re too skinny.”
Xing Ye looked at him with faint helplessness. “Does the young master want to come help?”
Sheng Renxing paused, walked over, and sat on the floor. He rubbed his ear. “Don’t call me that.”
He only sat there and, knowing his own limitations, did not touch anything. After a moment, he could not stop himself from asking, “Do you have abs?”
Xing Ye had had enough of him. “Ask me when I go interview for the bodyguard job.”
Sheng Renxing propped an elbow on his knee and fiddled with his earring while looking at Xing Ye. He suspected it had been too long since he had gotten any release. He was losing control of his behavior.
He drew in a breath and lifted the hem of his own shirt. “I do.”
He had trained himself into six-pack abs before, though they were not extremely defined. “They’re almost fading back down to four.”
“…” Xing Ye glanced once at his abdomen and said nothing. Then he lifted his own shirt.
Sheng Renxing looked at him and silently lowered his own shirt again.
Just when Xing Ye thought that had finally shut him up, Sheng Renxing suddenly asked, “Can I touch them?”
“?” Xing Ye looked at him, momentarily stunned.
Xing Ye knew boys sometimes let their friends feel their muscles after training. Yellow Hair and the others did it all the time—sitting through class perfectly normally one second, then suddenly flexing and grabbing the hand of whoever sat nearby to press it against their stomach, showing off their muscles. But Xing Ye rarely joined in. Or rather, none of them dared play that way with him.
Taking advantage of the towel covering his ears so Xing Ye could not see how red they were, Sheng Renxing made the bold request. He regretted it the moment the words came out, but now he could not back down. Frantically searching his memory for how straight guys were supposed to react in this situation, he kept his expression calm and watched Xing Ye’s face.
If Xing Ye showed even the slightest reluctance, he would immediately claim he had been joking. After staring for a while, Xing Ye did not seem bothered at all. He tipped his chin slightly, apparently nodding. Sheng Renxing silently sucked in a sharp breath and reached over.
His palm pressed against Xing Ye’s abs.
Warm, firm muscle rested beneath his hand. When Sheng Renxing pressed lightly, he could almost feel the power stored beneath the skin. His fingers traced over the shape of Xing Ye’s muscles as though drawing their outline.
“Are you studying a map?” Xing Ye said irritably. Sheng Renxing’s fingertips seemed to leave a faint electric current behind, making him itch.
As though burned, Sheng Renxing’s fingers trembled. He did not dare look into Xing Ye’s eyes. “Where exactly is your rib cracked?” As if he had only been searching for the injury all along.
“Here.” Holding up his shirt with one hand, Xing Ye caught Sheng Renxing’s hand with the other and placed it over one section of his ribs. “Don’t press hard.”
Sheng Renxing froze. Before he could even tell what he was supposed to be feeling, he immediately pulled his hand back. “Oh.” Then he asked, “Does it still hurt?”
Seeing him withdraw, Xing Ye lowered his shirt. “It’s okay.”
Then he looked at Sheng Renxing. “Lift your shirt.”
Sheng Renxing’s head snapped up.
“Fair is fair.” Seeing him refuse to move, Xing Ye reached out as if to lift it himself.
“Fuck, no!” Sheng Renxing reacted so violently he nearly launched himself backward.
“?” Xing Ye stared at him in confusion.
Sheng Renxing felt as though he were burning charcoal. Sweat covered his back; the shower he had just taken might as well have been wasted. In desperation, he shouted, “I’m insecure!”
“…” Xing Ye could not see a trace of insecurity anywhere on his face. He had not actually intended to insist on touching him, but Sheng Renxing’s heroic expression of martyrdom made him want to tease him. He narrowed his eyes. “You touched me just now.”
Sheng Renxing licked his lips. The towel suddenly seemed useless—he had no idea whether he should cover his head or his legs with it. From the instant his hand touched Xing Ye’s body, he had felt as though he had caught fire.
He was afraid Xing Ye would notice, so he slowly backed away. “You agreed to that. I didn’t agree to this!”
Xing Ye shifted closer, lowering his voice. “You really don’t agree?”
“No!” Sheng Renxing continued retreating with the determination of a martyr. He was almost pressed against the wall, yet did not dare stand up.
Xing Ye asked, “Who am I?”
“Brother Xing!” Sheng Renxing knew when to bend.
Xing Ye looked at him and clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.
“Bro! Big Brother Xing Ye! Dad Xing!” Sheng Renxing corrected himself instantly.
Xing Ye could not hold it anymore. Sheng Renxing’s expression made him burst out laughing, one hand braced on Sheng Renxing’s shoulder, his eyes curving into narrow lines.
Sheng Renxing had never seen him laugh like this before. For a moment, he simply stared, frozen in place.
Xing Ye laughed for quite a while before moving back to where he had been. He glanced at Sheng Renxing’s abdomen. “Next time.”
Sheng Renxing: “…”
After a while, his reaction finally subsided. Sheng Renxing did not dare sit so close anymore and opened WeChat.
The first message was still from Big-Head Qiu after seeing his QQ post: [What the hell is going on?!]
Sheng Renxing ignored it and asked: [Lemme see your abs?]
He knew Qiu Huaixin deliberately trained his body and showed it off to them from time to time.
As Sheng Renxing remembered it, Qiu Huaixin’s abs were pretty good too. He just had never paid much attention.
A moment later, Big-Head Qiu sent several photos of his abs from different angles: [Well?]
Sheng Renxing perfunctorily replied [Handsome] and looked through them one by one. They really did look good, almost sculpted, full of strength.
After looking at all of them, he calmly shut off his phone and raised his eyes toward Xing Ye with a complicated expression. Xing Ye finished folding the clothes and organized the suitcase for him.
Sheng Renxing gave an exaggerated, “Wow.” Then: “Brother Xing, you’re amazing!”
“Sleeping.” Xing Ye completely ignored the flattery.
Once they lay in bed, Sheng Renxing could sense Xing Ye behind him, awake and deliberately holding himself still.
After tossing the thought around in his head for a while, Sheng Renxing spoke. “Asleep?”
“No.” Xing Ye answered immediately.
“Aren’t you tired?”
Xing Ye rolled onto his back. “This bed’s too soft.”
He was not used to it.
“Want to talk?” Sheng Renxing turned onto his back as well.
“About what?”
“Why you got kicked out.”
It was quiet for a while. In the darkness, Xing Ye said softly, “I thought you weren’t going to ask.”
“Mm. I was holding it in.” Sheng Renxing glanced at him. He could not make out Xing Ye’s face in the dark. “Couldn’t hold it anymore.”
“Why not?” Xing Ye let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
Sheng Renxing curled his fingers under the blanket, his voice unchanged. “Because I thought maybe you wanted to tell me.”
He could feel Xing Ye turn to look at him, then turn back.
After a long while, Xing Ye said, “Couldn’t take it anymore, so I left on my own.”
Sheng Renxing closed his eyes and focused on Xing Ye’s voice. “Because they called your guardian?”
Another silence.
“Not exactly.” His voice was soft, almost like a sigh.
“Because of fighting… in the ring?”
“…”
There was a rustle beside him. Sheng Renxing opened his eyes and saw Xing Ye prop himself up to look at him, his voice suddenly a little colder and heavier. “Who told you?”
Sheng Renxing stared into the darkness, estimating where Xing Ye’s eyes were, and looked straight at him without being affected by his tone. “You going to tell me?”
After a long moment, Xing Ye lay back down. “You’re too curious.”
“You’re too mysterious.” Sheng Renxing simply rolled onto his side to face him. “Makes people want to investigate.”
Xing Ye laughed. “My fault.”
Sheng Renxing watched him. He could sense Xing Ye struggling internally, weighing what to say, but he did not press him. He simply waited.
“My mom is strongly against me…”
Sheng Renxing nodded. “So she found out today?” And then she got angry and kicked him out?
“I told her myself.”
Sheng Renxing was surprised. “Why?”
“Don’t know.” Xing Ye stared at the ceiling. His eyes looked deep and strangely lost. “I wanted to say it, so I did.”
Sheng Renxing laughed once. “Very Brother Xing.”
Xing Ye laughed too.
“How long will your mom stay angry?”
“Don’t know. Until I promise I won’t go again, probably.”
“Will you promise not to go again?”
Xing Ye was silent much longer this time. “…Don’t know.”
Sheng Renxing was quiet for a while too, then said, “The place I rented has two bedrooms. If you want, I won’t charge you rent.”
In the darkness, Xing Ye rolled onto his side to face him. “Why?”
Sheng Renxing pressed his lips together. “Good deed?”
Xing Ye looked at him. After they stared at each other for a moment, he smiled. “Troubling the young master, then.”
“Tsk!” Sheng Renxing turned over in dissatisfaction.
Notes
The Snail Girl: “magical housework fairy” joke draws on a Chinese folktale about a snail maiden who secretly helps with domestic chores.
Xing Daiyu: This teasing nickname alludes to Lin Daiyu from the classic novel Dream of the Red Chamber, a character often associated with frailty and illness.
