Gao Qin dragged his exhausted body home.
After being shaken up by Feng Ya Lun, Ma Rui had refused to let him leave until he sat through another meeting that day—once again, a meeting attended by exactly two people. Throughout it, Ma Rui had repeatedly emphasized Feng Ya Lun’s importance to the company. By the time he became emotional, he practically sounded as though he could not survive without Feng Ya Lun, apparently having completely forgotten how ruthlessly he had decided to abandon him not long ago. But no matter how many times Ma Rui repeated those same few sentences in different ways, it could not change the fact that the person he considered so important was about to leave.
Gao Qin stepped out of the elevator and lowered his head to take out his keys when he vaguely sensed someone watching him. He hurriedly looked up and found Feng Ya Lun leaning against the wall beside his door with his arms folded, watching him with a faint, unreadable smile.
Gao Qin let out a breath and calmly unlocked the door. “I thought you planned to avoid me right up until you left the country.”
Feng Ya Lun followed him inside. “That was indeed the plan. My flight is tomorrow.”
Gao Qin’s heart jolted, but nothing showed on his face. “Did you report that to the company?”
Feng Ya Lun burst out laughing. “Do you honestly think that’s necessary?”
Gao Qin fell silent.
Feng Ya Lun padded barefoot over to the bar to get a glass.
Gao Qin suddenly asked, “When was the last time you showered?”
“A year ago.” Feng Ya Lun spread his arms. “Want to come smell me?”
“Go take a shower.”
Feng Ya Lun shrugged. “I don’t mind taking a shower, but once I’m done, I definitely won’t come out wearing clothes. Want to try it?”
Gao Qin froze. “Did you have your face surgically thickened?”
“Can’t you tell? This is my end-of-the-world indulgence.”
Gao Qin picked up a cushion and placed it over his knees, staring at him indifferently. “Do whatever you want.”
Feng Ya Lun went straight to the refrigerator and began searching for wine with practiced familiarity.
Gao Qin looked at the wineglass on the coffee table. “I’m not drinking.”
Feng Ya Lun laughed. “Afraid of me?”
Gao Qin raised an eyebrow.
“Otherwise, why won’t you share a farewell drink with an old friend?”
“Old friend?”
“Aren’t we?” Feng Ya Lun sat down in the armchair to Gao Qin’s left. As he worked the corkscrew into the bottle, he smiled. “Wasn’t that the excuse you used when the two of us had our scandal?” His voice lowered as he imitated Gao Qin’s tone. “‘Feng Ya Lun and I have always been the best of friends. No matter what you write or how you try to sow discord between us, that will never change. In the future, we will continue moving forward together and become the best partners.’”
Gao Qin watched the vivid red liquid pour into the glass. “I didn’t realize you still remembered every single word.”
“The fact that you know I remembered every word means you haven’t forgotten either.” Feng Ya Lun pushed one of the glasses toward him.
“Don’t forget you only just got out of detention for drunk driving.”
Feng Ya Lun picked up his wineglass and took a huge swallow. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t tell me you’re planning to heartlessly throw your drunken old friend out of your home and let him drive around the streets completely wasted, searching for the car accident that might strike at some unknown moment…”
Gao Qin firmly shut his mouth.
Feng Ya Lun half narrowed his eyes. The slight intoxication from the red wine showed beneath his lashes like a silent invitation. “Tell me the truth. Why did you choose me back then? There were plenty of good-looking people. I was… I was nothing but a lowly worker at a gas station.”
Gao Qin abruptly stood. “Enjoy your drink by yourself.”
“Running away again?”
“When it comes to running away, who can compare with you? America—truly a coward’s paradise.”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s a paradise for the brave.” Feng Ya Lun relaxed and sprawled back across the sofa. “Look, some states in America legally recognize relationships like ours. Over there, I can live a normal life instead of existing like a bat in the darkness, frightened every day that I’ll suddenly be exposed beneath the sunlight. That place is the best reward for anyone brave enough to acknowledge their own feelings.” Suddenly, he began laughing and slapping the sofa.
The wineglass bobbed up and down with his hand as though the wine might spill out at any moment and splash across the upholstery.
But Gao Qin merely gave it a faint glance and walked into his room.
Even after shutting the door, Feng Ya Lun’s decadent, almost manic laughter still seemed to echo beside his ears.
It was not the first time Gao Qin had heard that kind of laughter.
There had been the time Feng Ya Lun confessed, the time they held the press conference… There had been countless such times during that year. Then, the following year, Feng Ya Lun had seemed to become an entirely different person. Even when he occasionally mentioned the past, he did so in a completely teasing tone, as though it had been nothing more than some joke born of youthful recklessness.
Why bring it all back up now?
Gao Qin sat at his desk. The dim, pale light of the lamp left his heart feeling utterly cold.
Tell me the truth. Why did you choose me back then? There were plenty of good-looking people. I was… I was nothing but a lowly worker at a gas station.
Feng Ya Lun’s question surfaced in his mind.
Gao Qin searched his own heart.
Why?
Was it because of his fair face and delicate features? Or because Gao Qin had thought that the kind of presence capable of drawing attention with every movement should never remain buried unnoticed at a gas station, being ordered around by the station manager and customers?
Gao Qin slowly closed his eyes.
This wouldn’t do.
He could not let himself follow Feng Ya Lun’s train of thought.
If both of them went mad, then their world would head toward destruction. One of them had to remain clearheaded. The kingdom he had built with his own hands, even in decline, ought to remain glorious and worth remembering.
There were two light knocks at the door.
Feng Ya Lun’s voice came quietly from outside. “I’m leaving.”
Then there was silence.
Gao Qin remained sitting there without moving, not knowing what he was waiting for.
The sound of the front door opening and closing? Or the pounding in his chest slowly returning to normal?
He suddenly stood, walked to the door, and opened it.
Feng Ya Lun was still there, leaning against the wall with his head lowered.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The telephone suddenly rang urgently. After a while, it switched directly to voicemail.
Gao Qin thought that at this hour, the only people who would call him were Feng Ya Lun and Ma Rui. Feng Ya Lun was standing right in front of him, so the person on the other end had to be—
Ma Rui’s agitated voice came through the phone. “A friend of mine found Feng Ya Lun’s flight. It’s tomorrow morning! Hurry, hurry, hurry—go find Feng Ya Lun immediately and talk him out of it. Whatever conditions he wants, we can negotiate! If there’s really no other way, go camp out at the airport first thing tomorrow morning. You’re bound to run into him.” After saying all this, Ma Rui muttered and grumbled for a while longer. Unable to think of anything else to add, he finally said resentfully, “I know you’re listening over there. Stop playing disappearing games with me and go find him.”
The call ended, and silence returned to the room.
Gao Qin looked at Feng Ya Lun. “What do you say?”
Feng Ya Lun raised his head. His cheeks were flushed peach-pink, making him look temptingly delectable. “You know me.”
“No regrets?”
Feng Ya Lun shook his head.
Gao Qin let out a long breath.
Feng Ya Lun was about to say something when Gao Qin suddenly lunged at him and knocked him to the floor.
“Ow. That hurts.” The hard tile struck him so painfully that every bone in his body felt ready to crack. “Gao Qin, I’m warning you—even if you beat me badly enough to put me in the hospital, I’ll endure it and go to America to be hospitalized there.”
Gao Qin’s eyes darkened slightly. “Is that so?”
“Of cou—”
Gao Qin swallowed the rest of Feng Ya Lun’s answer with his mouth.
Feng Ya Lun stared blankly at the face only inches from his own. What was happening? Gao Qin was…
Gao Qin suddenly pulled away and looked down at him coldly. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to concentrate when you’re kissing?”
Feng Ya Lun stared at him. “Sorry.”
Gao Qin lowered his head and continued his great undertaking.
Was this a dream?
Feng Ya Lun slowly brought his arms together around the body pressing down on him. The warm, solid sensation seemed to tell him that this was the moment his beautiful dream had finally become reality.
He slowly closed his eyes and responded without holding anything back.
The flame that had been suppressed for so many years, once lit, immediately became impossible to contain.
As Feng Ya Lun felt the amount of clothing remaining on his body steadily decrease, he asked shyly, “Can we move to the bed? Whenever I dreamed about this, we were always on the bed.”
Gao Qin’s hand stopped.
Feng Ya Lun raised his eyes and blinked. “The sofa would work too.” The tile really was far too hard.
Gao Qin cursed under his breath, swept him up into his arms, charged into the bedroom, and tossed him onto the bed.
Feng Ya Lun wriggled against the mattress, his toes idly clutching at the sheets. “I didn’t know you were this strong.”
“I’m big in other places too.” Gao Qin braced both hands beside Feng Ya Lun’s ears and slowly bent over him.
…We’re starting with foreplay again?
Feng Ya Lun impatiently hooked both legs directly around Gao Qin’s waist and murmured beside his ear, “You can’t be this slow. I’ll get impatient.”
It was like throwing a ladleful of oil directly onto a blazing fire.
Gao Qin abruptly yanked off his pants.
The dry kindling and raging fire swiftly blazed out of control.
Elio’s Notes: 干柴烈火, literally “dry firewood and raging flames,” is an idiom commonly used for two people whose mutual passion—often sexual—catches fire immediately once they are brought together. The chapter title plays directly on this expression.
That night—was very long.
The next day.
Gao Qin opened his eyes and instinctively turned toward the space beside him.
The sheets were a mess, but the person who should have been lying among those tangled sheets had vanished without a trace.
He abruptly sat up. A wave of dizziness struck without warning. He shook his head hard, hurried out of bed, and searched for the phone.
He pressed speed dial one. It rang only twice before the call was answered.
Feng Ya Lun’s hoarse yet excited voice quickly came through from the other end.
“Damn it, where are you?” Gao Qin roared.
“At the airport.” Feng Ya Lun shut the door of the taxi. “I left the keys to my beloved car on your desk. While I’m gone, remember to take good care of it—just like you take care of me.”
Gao Qin forcibly suppressed the anger rising inside his chest. “So you’re just going to eat me clean, wipe your mouth, pat your ass, and walk away?”
“Uh, wasn’t I the one who got eaten clean last night?” Feng Ya Lun took out the crutch he had just bought and began hobbling along.
“Come back and take responsibility!”
Feng Ya Lun’s leg nearly gave way beneath him. Luckily, he still had the crutch, sparing him from sprawling flat on the ground. A Gao Qin like this truly appeared only once in a hundred years.
He laughed. “How about this? If I don’t meet anyone better in America, I’ll come back and take responsibility for you. How does that sound?”
Gao Qin hung up immediately, threw on whatever clothes he could find, grabbed the keys Feng Ya Lun had left on the desk, and prepared to rush out.
The phone rang.
Feng Ya Lun’s smiling voice came from the other end. “I’ve already got my boarding pass. The plane takes off in another half hour. Even if you rush over now, you won’t make it.”
Gao Qin gripped the phone. It took him a long time to force out a single word.
“Fuck!”
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