At ten o’clock that night, the car’s high beams shone into the deep alley. Pale white light pushed the darkness backward inch by inch until the tires crunched over gravel and stopped at the very end of the narrow road. The lights went out, the engine died, and the alley sank once more into darkness as thick as mud.
Zhou Ruo An sat inside the car for a while before opening the door and stepping out. He knocked on an iron door.
A voice came from inside. “Open it yourself.”
Lin Yi’s voice was low and deep. Coming through the door, it sounded ridiculously fucking good. Zhou Ruo An didn’t like hearing it, so he waited for the sound to fade before pulling out his keychain, selecting the brass key, and sliding it into the lock.
Lin Yi’s home had only one bedroom and one living room. It was the only property his father, who had died young, had left him.
There was barely any decoration to speak of inside, only the simplest furnishings, yet everything came in loud, gaudy colors: a rainbow-striped sofa, a tablecloth patterned with fish playing among lotus flowers, and, visible through the bedroom doorway, a bedspread covered in flamboyant floral motifs. Too many patterns, too many clashing colors. One glance made your head spin; two made your chest tighten.
Zhou Ruo An had mocked Lin Yi’s taste before. He remembered a Lin Yi several years younger than he was now sitting on that rainbow sofa, looking around the room before saying flatly, “Isn’t this nice? Feels lively.”
For some reason, Zhou Ruo An had always been able to understand what Lin Yi meant remarkably quickly. Those few simple words were enough for him to imagine what this home had once looked like.
When Lin Yun Fan died, there had been five or six knives stuck in his body. Anywhere else, that would already have counted as something sensational. In the urban village, anyone who didn’t spend their after-dinner conversations gossiping about the Lin family might as well have been some stupid dog too behind the times to even eat shit while it was still warm.
Out of curiosity, all the children in the village had peered through Lin Yi’s windows at some point. Zhou Ruo An was no exception.
Through the filthy glass, the walls had been gray, the floor black, and even the bedsheets so deeply soaked with sweat and grime that their original color could no longer be seen. Back then, Zhou Ruo An hadn’t known how to describe Lin Yi’s old home. Now he did. It had looked like Zhang Jin’s black-and-white memorial portrait: numb-faced and utterly lifeless.
After dealing with Lin Yun Fan’s funeral, seven-year-old Lin Yi had lived alone in that deathly silent home for another three years. Rumor had it that on Lunar New Year when he was ten, he bought a gaudy floral bedsheet to replace the old one riddled with holes. From then on, he couldn’t stop. Little by little, he saved money and replaced every worn-out thing in the house until it eventually became what it was now.
Back then, Zhou Ruo An had genuinely felt a little sorry for Lin Yi. But now, looking again at that riot of colors on the bed, it felt as though a stone had lodged itself in his chest. He couldn’t help imagining what position Lin Yi might press him into on top of it before doing whatever he pleased.
The bathroom door opened, and Lin Yi walked out in sleepwear. He had just showered, and the ends of his hair were still wet, beads of water clinging to them.
He barely looked at Zhou Ruo An and walked straight to the old refrigerator. “What do you want to drink?”
Zhou Ruo An dropped onto the rainbow sofa and answered coldly, “Beer.”
When the opened can was handed to him, Lin Yi lowered his gaze faintly. “Didn’t take the medicine?”
Zhou Ruo An accepted the beer and lifted his eyes with a scoff. “Brother Lin sure knows how to threaten people. Didn’t you say you wouldn’t help me if I took it?” Lin Yi lightly touched the hair still stiff with styling gel. “I was afraid Young Master Zhou would turn around and deny everything afterward. That’s one of your specialties too.”
Zhou Ruo An turned away from the touch, his expression ugly. He tossed his dead phone onto the coffee table and leaned back into the sofa. “Could your call have come any later? Thirty seconds later and Wang Zhao Di would’ve sold me out right in front of all those people.”
Lin Yi sat down beside Zhou Ruo An, opened his own beer, and drank some of the foam overflowing from the top. “The interference from your phone while it was in your pocket was really strong. I only realized halfway through that the person confronting you was Wang Zhao Di. But that isn’t an excuse for Young Master Zhou to pick a fight. I protected you, so now you need to keep your promise.”
Lin Yi had never possessed the virtue of helping others out of kindness. When Zhou Ruo An had come to him for help, the two had already struck a deal: once everything was settled, Zhou Ruo An would stay with him for three days, take no medicine, and make no complaints.
Zhou Ruo An put down his beer and pulled a jade pendant from his pocket. It was pure white throughout, with a green ornament hanging from it.
He held it out in front of Lin Yi. “Song Dynasty. Blessed by an eminent monk. Good stuff. It’ll guarantee you live to a hundred.”
Lin Yi took another mouthful of beer and glanced at the pendant swaying before him. “A token of love?”
Shit.
The jade pendant trembled angrily in Zhou Ruo An’s hand.
He suppressed his temper. “How about using this in exchange for those three days?”
Lin Yi draped an arm across the back of the sofa. The beer can in his hand lightly tapped the jade pendant with a crisp sound as he smiled. “Not happening.” Zhou Ruo An darkened his face and put the pendant away, then took out Zhou Bin’s luxury watch instead. Adjusting his strategy, he dropped the cold expression and replaced it with a flattering smile. “This watch is impossible to find on the market. It’s a collector’s edition. Brother Lin is handsome and has great presence. It suits you perfectly.”
This time, Lin Yi looked genuinely pleased. After taking a sip of beer, he asked, “I’m handsome?”
“Not just handsome. Heroic too. Half the girls around here are so lovesick over you they can’t even think about food or drink.”
Lin Yi was clearly pleased by the praise. He extended his left hand slightly, and Zhou Ruo An immediately slipped the watch around his wrist. The clasp snapped neatly shut.
The diamond-studded watch gleamed brilliantly. Lin Yi watched the hands turning ceaselessly and said softly, “Zhou Ruo An, do you know that giving someone a watch means you want to stay with them forever?”
“…Stay with them what?” Zhou Ruo An looked dumbfounded.
Lin Yi raised his wrist and held the watch beside Zhou Ruo An’s ear. “As long as time keeps moving, we’ll last forever.”
Zhou Ruo An slapped his hand away. “It’s silent. What the hell are you listening for?” He reached for the watch. “Give it back. I’m not giving it to you anymore.”
Taking advantage of the movement, Lin Yi caught his hand and pulled him into his arms. “Don’t move. Let me hold you for a while. I was rushing to the school today and nearly got into an accident on the way. An An, feel a little sorry for me.”
Zhou Ruo An, who had been about to struggle free, paused and turned his head. “Are you okay?”
Lin Yi put down the beer can and hugged him tighter. “Luckily, the truck swerved in time. Otherwise, the place you’d be seeing me right now might’ve been the morgue.”
Zhou Ruo An suddenly thought of Zhang Yu Ting dying right in front of him, lying in a pool of blood before the truck, her eyes still open, unable to rest in peace.
He drew a deep breath and pushed Lin Yi away, speaking with ruthless finality. “Spending three days with you in the morgue would be more comfortable than spending three days with you now.”
Lin Yi laughed and rubbed his hair. He took another sip of beer, his voice sinking into the rich malt scent, thick and mellow. “If, when I die, you could spend three days beside my grave, then my life wouldn’t have been wasted.”
The electrical voltage in the urban village was unstable. The light flickered once, and the room dimmed several shades, like the scene inside an old photograph—warm yellow and sorrowful.
After a long while, Zhou Ruo An lowered his eyes and asked softly, “What exactly do you even like about me?” When Lin Yi didn’t answer, he raised his gaze again. “You like that I’m good-looking?”
Lin Yi rested an elbow on his knee and tilted his head toward Zhou Ruo An, carefully examining that handsome face. The beer had been chilled, leaving his fingers cold. He raised his hand, and those cool fingertips slowly followed his gaze across smooth skin until they came to rest on Zhou Ruo An’s lips, rubbing gently.
“Yeah,” Lin Yi said. “I like that you’re good-looking.”
Zhou Ruo An barely moved away and showed no anger. He glanced at the lightbulb still flickering every now and then and gave a slow, faint scoff.
“Lin Yi, you’ve successfully made me hate my own looks.”
“Three days, right?” Zhou Ruo An glanced at his watch. “Not one minute more.” Before he had even finished speaking, Lin Yi kissed him, the rich malt fragrance in their mouths tangling together until it gradually became impossible to tell one from the other.
The kiss grew deeper and deeper. Half reclining against the sofa, Zhou Ruo An was forced to tip his head back and endure that greedy taking.
As the weather warmed, their clothing had grown lighter. The hem of Zhou Ruo An’s bespoke shirt, fastened with diamond buttons, was easily lifted, and a warm palm settled against him, roaming without pause.
The shirt had been tailored to fit, leaving little room for mischief. Lin Yi withdrew his hand and rested it on one of the diamond buttons, only for Zhou Ruo An to hurriedly press it down. His lips were still caught in the kiss as he urgently mumbled, almost like a whimper, “Don’t tear it. It’s expensive.”
“Mm.” Lin Yi was relatively obedient. His hand slipped around behind Zhou Ruo An instead and caught that soft flesh through his trousers, using no small amount of force as he said, “Undo it yourself.”
Zhou Ruo An was so humiliated and furious he nearly wanted to die, yet he had no choice. Under Lin Yi’s unabashed stare, he could only push the diamond buttons out of their holes one by one.
“Open it a little wider.”
“Lin Yi, don’t go too far.”
“An An, be good.”
Zhou Ruo An squeezed his eyes shut, gripped the front of his shirt, and pulled it open to either side, peeling himself completely out like one of the longans Third Miss had been peeling earlier.
The longan flesh was sweet and full. Lin Yi lowered his head, tugging lightly with his teeth, sucking at the juice and chewing the flesh until he had his fill.
A strange, secret sensation began at Zhou Ruo An’s chest and slowly spread throughout his body. He trembled faintly, increasingly unable to withstand it.
Even without taking any medicine, his consciousness began to blur. It wasn’t until Lin Yi carried him onto the bed that Zhou Ruo An found a sliver of clarity again. Lin Yi’s clothes were easy to remove; once the robe came undone, his strong body immediately filled Zhou Ruo An’s vision.
Zhou Ruo An instinctively edged toward the side of the bed, only to be dragged straight back by the ankle. “What are you running for?”
To speak honestly, Lin Yi could hardly be considered cruel to Zhou Ruo An. Even when the two of them were at each other’s throats, Lin Yi rarely treated him with cold hostility—except when they were in bed.
In bed, Lin Yi was terrifyingly fierce. He also seemed to harbor certain desires too shameful to bring into the light, twisted and almost perverse urges for control that required Zhou Ruo An’s absolute submission.
The first time, Zhou Ruo An had been bound. The second time, he had been lost in a drug-induced haze. Now he was free and fully conscious. Faced with this version of Lin Yi, how could he not want to run?
Lin Yi had never possessed much patience at moments like this. His palm pressed over Zhou Ruo An’s face as he looked into his eyes through the gaps between his fingers and slowly lowered himself.
“Lin Yi!” Zhou Ruo An struggled to force his voice out beneath the hand. “It hurts.”
The man’s movements paused slightly. He removed his hand and gripped Zhou Ruo An’s jaw, forcing him to look at him. “It hurts?”
Zhou Ruo An’s eyes were red, his body trembling faintly. “It hurts. It’ll hurt for a long time.”
＊
That night, Lin Yi went out to buy lubricant. At first, he did his best to be gentle, but those twisted impulses of his seemed rooted in his very bones, too deeply ingrained to change.
The gaudy, brightly colored bedsheets wrapped around cold, pale skin. The brilliant peonies were crushed out of shape beneath long fingers, like clusters of delicate branches winding around fingers and wrists—lush, decadent, and tempting one toward ruin. Lin Yi lifted that hand and took the fingers into his mouth one by one, coating them in saliva and leaving teeth marks behind. Still unwilling to let them go, he pressed the damp fingers against the young man’s chest and ordered, “Rub it yourself. Let me watch.”
Even a clay figure has some temper. Zhou Ruo An moved his hand away and glared furiously at Lin Yi.
The next instant came a heavy smack. Lin Yi bent down and kissed him, whispering against the corner of his soft lips, “If you won’t do it, then I’ll have to. If you cry that it hurts, I’ll seal your mouth shut. I even have the tape ready.”
The fury in Zhou Ruo An’s eyes deepened, yet he could only let Lin Yi knead and mold him however he pleased. Slowly, he raised his hand and covered his own chest, leaving the warm dampness there.
“So obedient.” Lin Yi lightly pecked his soft lips. “Harder.”