Elio’s Notes: This 2018 Qixi special is a crossover between Drunken Fist, Blade Against the Current, and Langzi. Because it is preserved separately from the current JJWXC table of contents, FD is listing it as a supplemental crossover rather than giving it a chapter number. Langzi (《浪子》) was the working title of Xiang Xiaomo’s later novel I’ll Wait Until I’ve Seen Through the Scenery (《我等你到风景看透》), which is why the older title appears here.
【The new movie Mega Shark is out! Ah-Xiao showed his V-line, holy crap, he actually has a tattoo!!】
【Go watch the shot where the shark rips up his wetsuit and he climbs onto the boat and strips it off. Hurry and look at my husband Xiaoxiao’s secret tattoo!!】
【Oh my god, I can’t look!! What exactly did he tattoo in that embarrassing spot?!】
*
Zhuang Xiao had teamed up with Jason Banner again for another popcorn action blockbuster, currently tearing up the box office. Most of the fights were aquatic, and Zhuang Xiao showed enough skin in the movie to push the rating limits. Other than the sharkskin wetsuit, he barely wore anything at all. The costume department must have saved a fortune.
Apart from the private treasure permanently reserved for his little wildcat at home, everything that could be shown had been shown. The camera had stripped Zhuang Xiao’s limits to three cun, roughly four inches, below his lower abdomen, finally revealing a mysterious set of black lines, their strokes strange and seductive.
Elio’s Notes: A cun (寸), sometimes called a “Chinese inch,” is a traditional unit of length. In modern mainland usage it is about 3.33 cm, so three cun is roughly 10 cm, or about four inches.
The trending super-thread #ZhuangXiaosSecretTattoo had been arguing itself hoarse online all day. The different camps could not agree, and the post even came with a poll.
Q: What profound meaning lies behind national heartthrob Ah-Xiao’s mysterious black design?
A. His lover’s name.
B. Leftover stitch marks from an injury on set that was sewn up badly.
C. A secret C-section scar.
D. A dog bite.
Young Hero Pei sat in a corner of the set where neither the main camera nor the behind-the-scenes crew could sweep him into frame, head lowered over his phone. The corner of his mouth kept twitching. He was almost failing to hide his grin.
His lover’s name?
It was your Young Hero Pei’s glorious name tattooed there. Like hell he was going to tell you people. Heh. Heh. Heh.
An injury on set?
Impossible. Usually I’m the one getting cut open and bleeding. My man is way too good to get hurt, and definitely not there.
Pei Yan’s finger slid between the two magnificent options C and D while he debated which one to vote for on behalf of Brother Xiao. In the distance, the assistant director bellowed through a megaphone, “Old Pei! Your zombie is up! Where the hell are you?!”
Pei Yan turned his head. His finger jerked. “Ah.”
He really had turned into a zombie now…
Which one had he tapped…?
Twenty minutes later, another topic hit the trending list: #PeiYanAccidentalTap. It smoothly shoved #TheSecretOfZhuangXiaosTattoo down from first place to second.
Pei Yan’s face was painted a corpse-white shade with no trace of blood, his lips vivid, his eyeliner eerie and exaggerated. In this movie he was appearing purely as a favor, personally showing up to play one very elaborate background extra.
His manager and publicity team were frantically refreshing their phones beside him, hissing, “Fuck… fuck… Old Pei, what did you just hit by accident? Next time you browse headlines about you-know-who, remember to switch to your burner account!”
Pei Yan came running back after finishing a take and asked quietly, “Which one did I accidentally hit?”
Zhang Huan said, “C. Brother Xiao has a scar from his C-section.”
Pei Yan rubbed his shaved head, shook it, and muttered, “Aiya. Did I accidentally expose some earth-shattering secret?”
Zhang Huan nodded. “That’s exactly what everyone online is saying. You two are famously close partners, so obviously you know the truth. You accidentally exposed Zhuang Xiao’s shocking secret… Now what the hell are we supposed to do???”
The ship had fed its fans again.
The online “Pei-Zhuang” camp had already gone completely feral, shamelessly spamming: “Our Yan-baby is fucking incredible, boldly declaring his love to his wife!” Meanwhile the “Zhuang-Pei” camp, devastated by the reversal, wailed, “Impossible! We refuse to believe it! If those two ever have a baby, it can only be that little temptress Yan-baby giving birth!”
“You people figure out how to fix it.” Pei Yan shrugged, utterly unconcerned. “Get this trending topic taken down.”
“If you’d clicked D, ‘dog bite,’ I could upload a couple photos of Mr. Yan’s two Alaskan malamutes right now and have the marketing accounts run with it.” Zhang Huan slapped his phone toward Pei Yan’s face. “But you fucking clicked C! What am I supposed to post? Two pages of Zhuang Xiao’s medical records proving he never had a C-section because he actually gave birth naturally?!”
Pei Yan’s phone went duang, the WeChat alert vibrating so hard it nearly jumped from his hand. The screen felt hot enough to explode.
The avatar was Zhuang Xiao’s, but the wording was pure Fatty Bao: 【Our boss would like to ask Mr. Pei what exactly your hand slipped and did just now?】
Pei Yan replied instantly: 【I love him so much I’m delirious, dying of pleasure, unable to breathe, so naturally my hands shake all the time.】
This time the wording was Zhuang Xiao’s. A live volcano was erupting: 【You trying to get pregnant?】
Pei Yan immediately begged for mercy: 【Ge, I think I already got pregnant last night. You got mad and scared me so badly I’m bleeding down there. Come check on me.】
Pei Yan promptly sneezed twice in a row. Brother Xiao had cursed him through the screen so thoroughly that his whole body perked up and cold air practically rose from his head.
Zhuang Xiao replied just as fast: 【Tonight I’ll definitely make you bleed.】
Zhuang Xiao was on the same set, at an exterior location in a Utah canyon between long stretches of snow-covered mountains, suspended from cables as he launched himself out of a sports car that had been torn apart by a swarm of zombies.
The film was an apocalyptic blockbuster called The Last God of War. Naturally, Mr. Zhuang played the male lead, humanity’s war god rescuing Earth from the brink of biological extinction, while Pei Yan had pulled on zombie-gray skin and collected yet another spectacular premium death scene. In the furious sunset battle across the valley, artillery fire flying everywhere, his character was infected while protecting his closest comrade and brother, then drove an eighteen-wheeler packed with a horde of little zombies straight off a cliff.
The two units merged to film an important scene between the two men. The zombie had been smashed flat, nearly reduced to pieces, trembling on the ground, yet still desperately clinging to the human war god’s leg. At the final edge between life and death, with almost the last shred of consciousness already gone, he raised his head to look one more time at his beloved comrade.
The director shouted, “Your eyes! Your eyes! Make them affectionate! You’re reluctant to leave all the beauty and genuine feeling in the human world!”
When Pei Yan was slapped over, he used the momentum to pitch forward with a puchi. Falling as though he had tripped, he aimed almost perfectly at Brother Xiao’s crotch and smacked face-first into it.
For one instant, he buried the bridge of his nose between Zhuang Xiao’s thighs. Such familiar, deeply missed warmth…
The expression was perfect. The pose was flawless. Anyone could see the depth of feeling and reluctance to part.
The supposedly invulnerable war god Zhuang Xiao reacted as if struck, toppled backward, then scrambled and rolled straight out of the shot.
Zhuang Xiao turned back and cursed him silently with his lips: “Where the hell are you touching?” Pei Yan mouthed back, “I’m licking you.”
They charged toward each other as though about to roll up their sleeves and fight. When their chests collided, Zhuang Xiao’s eyes held down an indescribable excitement. He said under his breath, “Get the fuck away from me. You’ve already made me wet down there.”
“I haven’t even gotten to lick it yet.” Pei Yan whispered against Mr. Zhuang’s ear. “You’re wet from the inside, Ge. You missed me.”
“…”
Young Hero Pei’s completely shameless, anytime-anywhere provocation and seduction proved extremely successful. Half an hour later, during the set’s lunch break, he received an enthusiastic response.
The primeval pine forest was dense, branches and leaves tangled together, while every patch reached by sunlight glowed warm gold. Brother Xiao simply caught him, stuffed him into the trailer, and pinned him against the edge of the bed. “Had enough fun?”
Pei Yan grinned like a shameless rascal. “I missed you. Not enough.”
Zhuang Xiao had been filming in America for three months. Pei Yan had used a cameo as an excuse to visit the set, but he could only make the trip once. A vigorous little wildcat left alone at home was miserable. Every pore in his body was howling with desire and longing.
“I missed you too.” Zhuang Xiao spoke softly, staring at Pei Yan’s lips and collar, then abruptly yanked down his own waistband and pointed to the tattoo at his groin. “What does this tattoo say? Read it yourself.”
“It says you love me.” The corner of Pei Yan’s mouth curved in obvious satisfaction.
“Who got pregnant and had a C-section?” Zhuang Xiao narrowed his eyes. “If your hand slipped, why didn’t you hurry up and undo the vote?!”
“I was going to pick D! I just hit the wrong one. I’ll change it, I’ll change it to D!” Pei Yan burst out laughing.
“Dog bite?” Zhuang Xiao stroked his face, studying the eyeliner that had not yet been removed, then slipped a hand inside his collar and kneaded his pleasantly firm chest. “Which little dog…”
“I bit it. Happy?” Pei Yan’s voice dropped into a breathy rasp under that hand. He leaned in and was immediately pushed down against Brother Xiao’s hips. Right there on the narrow bed inside the trailer, he tangled with him and “bit” that private place all over again.
He licked carefully from top to bottom until both of them were dazed with pleasure and neither wanted to wait until after dinner. Zhuang Xiao’s eyes had gone dark, the live volcano nearing the edge of eruption, his thighs squeezing around Pei Yan’s neck until he could barely breathe. Pei Yan held nothing back and gave his lover an extravagant oral finish that left him utterly satisfied.
He was the one licking his man, yet Pei Yan was already panting hard, openly erect below.
He could not resist reaching down to touch himself. Zhuang Xiao did not stop him. He grabbed Pei Yan’s ass and kneaded it, the rough strength of his hands revealing three months of deep deprivation and longing. He kissed Pei Yan’s mouth, kissed his neck, then hooked a finger in from behind.
Through his pants.
“Ah…!”
Pei Yan struggled and arched backward, his Adam’s apple caught between teeth. Pain and pleasure mixed together, even the blood vessels beneath his skin trembling.
The center seam at the back of his pants was practically punched open, so now he really was going to bleed front and back…
That night, Mr. Zhuang finally gave Mr. Pei the rough, heavy treatment he liked best, fucking him voiceless inside the trailer at the campsite.
The campfire crackled in the clearing outside. From all around came faint barking and insect calls. The windows gradually fogged white while panting more explosive than the fire continued without pause, the wildest breathing of two men. The sheets were left wrinkled, soaked, and chaotic.
Zhuang Xiao tossed aside the second empty bottle of lubricant and drove into that scorching body again.
Pei Yan gripped the edge of the mattress at the head of the bed, his legs suspended in the air, almost hanging upside down as his whole body shook and he cried out. That thrust struck the deepest point of pleasure and forced tears from his eyes. Lost in it, he twisted back and forth against the sheets, rubbing his face into them, calling his man’s name.
The front was already swollen almost beyond recognition, bitten by his man and worked by his man’s callused fingers. Sweat dripped from Zhuang Xiao’s chest. One trail of sweat slid down as he slowly leaned forward, traveling upward from the black-and-red pattern across Pei Yan’s lower back to his nape, then falling hot onto his face and the corner of his eye.
Pei Yan’s lips parted, vivid beneath Zhuang Xiao, breathing obediently as the muscles across the backs of his shoulders spread into a gorgeous pattern.
His body itself seemed drawn from perfect lines: neither fat nor thin, not excessively bulky, yet without the slightest hint of weakness.
Young, fresh, and every time in bed shamelessly uninhibited, carrying that untamed arrogance even as he spread his legs and eagerly welcomed everything… He had flavor. Enough to make someone obsess over him completely.
Zhuang Xiao opened a third bottle of lubricant, poured it over his hand, pressed himself over Pei Yan from behind, and seized the most sensitive part of him.
That nearly killed Pei Yan.
The reddened, swollen place could barely take the excessive stimulation and pressure from both front and back. He cursed and begged for mercy without stopping. He bucked and struggled, his hands bound by a belt to the head of the bed nearly tearing the headboard apart. Apparently Zhuang Xiao had saved every bit of strength he had not used killing zombies in the daytime to spend on him instead, rubbing his most vulnerable spot and then slamming hard into him from behind.
Pei Yan screamed and nearly blacked out, tears spilling uncontrollably down his face as his vision flooded peach-red.
Finally, completely satisfied. Finally, played enough.
Fucked unconscious, fucked to tears, fucked until three months of pent-up essence had been spilled.
At the end, Zhuang Xiao turned him over and held him in the most intimate position, thrusting into him again and again until they climbed together through the burning heat to climax. Zhuang Xiao kept murmuring beside his ear, “Love you… Yanyan, I love you…”
Pei Yan slept through most of the latter half of the night. After coming four times, he was nothing but a zombie drained of health and pulled apart at the joints, exhausted, sprawled over the bed without the slightest desire to move.
In his haze, he felt Brother Xiao wiping his body with a towel. It was warm, carefully and gently passing over his lower back, buttocks, and between his legs. Zhuang Xiao seemed to secretly kiss his face too, holding the place where his earring sat between his lips for a long while, then parting his legs and stroking the tattoo in his most private place with callused fingertips.
The whole night was warm until dawn. Morning light broke through the white mist retreating from the valley and entered his eyes.
The vehicle stereo sang a country-style tune.
Pei Yan felt too comfortable to open his eyes. He sensed Zhuang Xiao stretch out an arm and embrace him from behind, his low voice deep and sexy as he kissed Pei Yan’s earlobe again, then bit the fading kiss mark on his shoulder dark enough to bruise anew.
“Pregnant yet?” Zhuang Xiao asked quietly.
“Mm… got one.” Pei Yan hummed. “Shh. Wait until I’m three months pregnant before you tell the media.”
Zhuang Xiao bit down on the back of his neck, making Pei Yan laugh and squirm backward until he rubbed Brother Xiao’s morning erection into naked desire. Following the lingering slickness from last night, Zhuang Xiao filled him again and finally made him shut up.
Everything around them was going smoothly, so Pei Yan’s mood was especially good.
After filming God of War, he would lead the entire Legend of Haichuan crew to Japan and South Korea for screenings and fan meetings, as well as promotion for the upcoming film. In addition, Pei Yan had invested in the expansion of the Tianjin film-and-television base and taken a stake in it. He was now doing business with Mr. Yan. If there was money to be made, they made it together.
“Your Mr. Zhang hasn’t asked you to talk again?” Zhuang Xiao asked casually. “Hasn’t given you trouble?”
“No. He doesn’t even have time to bother with me now.” Pei Yan kept his eyes closed.
“How come?”
“Mm. My ge came back,” Pei Yan said softly.
Zhuang Xiao did not really understand where Pei Yan’s family had suddenly produced another “older brother.” Presumably he was not a blood relative, merely someone who happened to share the surname. But this inexplicable bargain brother had indirectly helped Pei Yan and brought him benefits. Otherwise, after all these years, why would their Mr. Zhang remain so attached to the little monkey, so indulgent that even giving him two extra slaps seemed too cruel, practically worshipping him like an ancestor? Obviously it was for somebody else’s sake.
An old fox like Zhang Shaochi, who had seen countless people in the industry, must have had an absolutely stunning white moonlight tucked away in his heart.
“Better-looking than you?” Zhuang Xiao teased softly.
“Way better-looking than me.” Pei Yan snorted. “What boss would want to keep someone who looks like me?”
“I’ll keep you.” Zhuang Xiao laughed. “Stop coming over to play extras for me. Just warm my bed.”
“Warm your bed? Not exactly my specialty. I’m afraid I won’t serve you comfortably enough, sir,” Pei Yan said.
“Comfortable.” Zhuang Xiao stroked the living, vibrant body in his arms, remembering the heat inside him last night. He said softly, “Extremely comfortable.”
Pei Yan hummed. “Exactly. So I can’t let you see those beautiful, pretty, delicate types. You might stop liking me.”
“Like you.” Zhuang Xiao kissed him again. “This is exactly the wild flavor I like…”
He meant it sincerely.
He was very happy now. For the first time in his life, he felt satisfied from the deepest part of himself. So this was what happiness felt like when the person you loved stayed beside you.
Another stretch of panting mixed with low laughter, then gradually eased during a long gaze until everything became quiet.
A shaft of sunlight split through the thick fog and fell across their bare chests, across Pei Yan’s slowly opening and closing lashes and the slight upward curve of his mouth. The pendant around his man’s neck hung down onto Pei Yan’s chest as he leaned over him. A platinum ring suspended from a fine chain gathered all the dawn light into one point, its gleam breathtaking.
*
*
At the foot of the snowy mountain three miles away, scale-like ripples spread across the surface of a great lake. The dark-gray reflection of a wooden cabin floated in the water.
A cluster of firelight burned in the hearth, driving away the chill quietly gathering around the room. Four-Fat caught a hazelnut tossed out the window, his fat butt bobbing as he hopped down from the sill, then off the backyard deck, his footprints disappearing into the mottled green lawn.
One person had not slept all night. He sat at the head of the bed with a laptop, going through accounts, calculating money, and working out the gross profit from the company’s investment projects over the previous year.
The other had not slept either, only racing back in his car before dawn and winding all the way up the mountain road. When Yan Xiaodao stepped out, a thread of white breath left his mouth, though he was not dressed particularly heavily. In every season, he wore a perfectly fitted suit.
He took a gift box from the car seat, strode up the stairs even faster than Four-Fat could scamper, and deliberately shook the cold and lingering smell of smoke from the front of his suit before entering.
The person inside raised his eyes slightly, his gaze sliding from the suited man’s chest all the way down the tall, straight outline of his body.
Yan Xiaodao pounced directly onto the bed and came toward Mr. Ling on all fours like a large cat stalking through the night. He pressed down the laptop and leaned in to kiss Ling He’s face.
“Finished negotiating?” Ling He asked.
“Done.” Yan Xiaodao sounded relaxed. “Now we just wait for those two to have room in their schedules at the end of the year, then we start filming in Puerto Rico.”
“You came back late. I waited all night.” Ling He’s gaze carried another meaning. “Mr. Yan, how should I punish you?”
“Heh.” Yan Xiaodao did not care in the slightest. He pinched his lover’s chin. “If you missed me, just say it. Punishment or not, I’m sacrificing myself either way!”
Ling He could not help smiling. He pulled Xiaodao close, and the two of them kissed intimately on the big bed while dawn barely lit the windows.
“Overseas distribution for Legend of Haichuan went pretty smoothly, and you’ve seen the domestic box-office numbers.” Kissing all the way from the foot of the bed to the head, from lips to neck, Yan Xiaodao freed his mouth long enough to say, “Box office and reviews both won, right? And you argued with me about it at the beginning.”
Ling He did not answer. His mouth was occupied because he had already pulled open Mr. Yan’s suit and shirt to kiss that warm, sexy chest. His tongue hooked around one dark-red nipple taut with desire and sucked a violent gasp straight out of him.
“The movie made a fortune… You made money again this time, didn’t you…” Yan Xiaodao rubbed Ling He’s long hair. “Xiaohe, how come you’re always the one profiting?”
“Right,” Ling He hummed against his chest. “I have a good eye.”
“Fuck.” Yan Xiaodao cursed softly, smiling even as his neck flushed. “I sold my ass to you to beg for that investment, so you profited once. Then the movie became a hit and you profited again. Why the hell do you get to profit twice?”
Ling He buried his face against Yan Xiaodao’s chest and laughed. “Right. I profit every time. I specialize in profiting from you.”
Yan Xiaodao said, “Xiaohe, do you have any sense of fairness?”
Ling He said, “Since when have I ever been fair with you?”
Argue?
Their arguments were never really about whether to invest in some movie, whether it would make money or not. Every argument was simply so Ling He could watch Xiaodao compromise and yield to him, strip off that suit and admire the sight, see exactly how Xiaodao would indulge him.
So how will you indulge me this time, my Xiaodao?
Yan Xiaodao smiled brightly, reached down beside the bed, and stuffed the gift box into Mr. Ling’s hands. “Baby, happy anniversary.”
The big gifts, things like diamond watches and yachts, had already been delivered. Today’s gift was only a little thing, something that belonged squarely in the category of married-couple bedroom fun.
“What is it?” Ling He asked with his eyes.
“Guess,” Yan Xiaodao said.
“For me to use?” Ling He examined the tempting body pinned beneath him. “Or for you yourself?”
Yan Xiaodao only smiled. Even after everything the two of them had done, that shameless thick-skinned face still heated up. What outrageous thing had they not tried by now? What position had they not used? Some things did not need words.
In front of Ling He, he was always excited, helpless against desire, and hopelessly devoted.
That expression instantly excited Ling He. He grabbed Yan Xiaodao by the collar and lunged forward, kissing him deeply several times. He tore open the package and found a matched set of sex toys: a collar connected to handcuffs, with a miniature riding crop included.
The collar was actually set with diamonds, handcrafted from soft lambskin, and the cuffs bore a Hermès leather-goods logo.
Of course a fine horse deserved a fine saddle, and an exceptional beauty absolutely deserved designer sex toys. This set looked purpose-built for the secret servicing of wealthy bosses and sugar daddies. Ling He laughed out loud, held his lover’s face, rolled with him across the bed, and said twice into Xiaodao’s ear, “You’re so tempting.” “Boss, I’ll stay up all night for you. I’ll work very hard.”
Then Ling He straddled Yan Xiaodao’s waist face-to-face and slowly loosened his lounge pants.
Yan Xiaodao propped himself up on his elbows, stunned.
Ling He lowered the waistband, revealing a glimpse of black lace underwear beneath, though the style was different from last time. This pair was definitely a new acquisition. The previous lace underwear and thigh-high stockings had long since been rubbed and played into tatters.
The beautiful prize pushed free through the opening at the front of the underwear, standing proudly as if showing off. Ling He had even tied a pale-blue ribbon around himself in a bow.
A blue ribbon against pale-pink flesh, the bow setting off that part of him beautifully.
“For you.” Ling He’s smile was pure and captivating. “Mr. Yan, happy anniversary.”
“My gift for you,” Ling He said. “I’m the gift.”
Yan Xiaodao stared without blinking, his Adam’s apple sliding, eyes fixed. He exploded into motion, rolled Ling He over like a leopard, pinned him beneath himself, and plunged into a savage kiss until the oxygen in their lungs was gone and all their blood seemed to burn.
He mussed Ling He’s hair, then smoothed it back into place bit by bit, murmuring obsessively, “Xiaohe, you’re so beautiful…”
Because Mr. Ling had tied a bow around himself, they never made it to nighttime. They ate breakfast at combat speed to replenish energy and immediately rolled back into bed.
In Mr. Yan’s words, Xiaohe, you tied yourself up. It’s inconvenient even to go to the bathroom. Let me untie you.
His hands tangled with Ling He as he pulled off the T-shirt, then went for his pants.
In all the tugging and pulling, Yan Xiaodao must have touched some ticklish spot again. Ling He twisted away laughing, fell back onto the bed, and looked up at his lover with an unbearably adorable expression…
Yan Xiaodao slowly bent down, his gaze almost bewitched, and caught the ribbon of the bow between his teeth.
“Don’t untie it.” Ling He caught his chin. “I want you to lick me.”
“Kiss here…”
“Kiss it hard,” Ling He said. “Hard enough to be exactly the hardness that feels best for you.”
Yan Xiaodao mouthed several vicious insults at the demon, but if he wanted to feel good himself, he still had to serve this young, proud beauty properly.
This kid had grown up eating beef and mutton and recently become obsessed with donkey meat. Every time they ate out back home he asked where to find donkey-meat sandwiches or donkey-meat hotpot, claiming that after eating a huge plate of donkey meat for dinner, he could fuck the boss six times that night without even getting winded. This scared Mr. Yan so badly that he secretly considered buying every donkey-meat restaurant near Linwan and shutting them all down. Close them. Every single one. Convert them all into vegetarian restaurants.
Ling He smiled and kissed him back, stripping the suit trousers and shirt from his boss. They kissed over each other’s entire bodies, enjoying every familiar, perfect line.
The stuff about donkey meat making him hard was only a joke.
It did not matter what meat he ate. The moment Ling He saw Yan Xiaodao, restraint became impossible and he turned into a wolf. The dazzling, handsome man before him was his Xiaodao.
Yan Xiaodao suddenly moved first, pinning his lover to the bed by force and restraining his limbs.
Ling He shivered. The green in his eyes deepened into dark jade, but he said nothing. He did not resist.
His body softened, obedient and relaxed. Only that one place remained unhesitatingly hard, stretching the ribbon bow almost to breaking point. It was absurdly funny.
“Beautiful.” Yan Xiaodao looked him over and judged, flicking the fierce weapon that always drove him out of his mind. He bent down again to taste Ling He’s lips. Then he steadied the tempting “lover’s gift” tied with ribbon and lowered himself onto it, finally serving himself up on a platter to Ling He’s mouth…
Outside the window, flecks of light glittered across the valley. The conifer forest reflected the sun, and a romantic white mist floated above the lake.
Sunlight spilled across the room. Heat rolled upward.
Long, perfectly muscled bodies rose and fell continuously on the bed, driving and pressing together in rhythm. This had become Lord Xiaodao’s favorite position. At first glance, one could hardly tell who was on top and who was underneath. Yan Xiaodao drove his hips forward fiercely, stretching Ling He’s arms overhead and holding them there, his lower body grinding and stirring dozens of times. He watched with satisfaction as his lover panted himself senseless, breathing broken, his gaze softening completely.
Ling He’s long hair spread over the pillow. His eyes were a lake of green, almost abandoned in surrender as he let Yan Xiaodao ride him however he pleased. The fierce weapon was clearly buried inside Xiaodao, yet Ling He himself looked as though he had been stabbed or enchanted. The lake overflowed, spilling from the corners of his eyes.
Ling He narrowed his eyes like a magnificent big cat being scratched everywhere by his owner, tipped his neck back, and moaned in pleasure.
Yan Xiaodao moved again, refusing to let Ling He rise, keeping him pinned as he bounced up and down. Their shadows cast across the wall and instantly became two large cats wrestling and tangling together, a warm, soul-melting intimacy only the two of them could understand.
Ling He cried “Ah,” and then the sound vanished beneath the panting above him as both men erupted, drenched in sweat.
That was only the first round. Later, they fought several more campaigns through the cabin bedroom until the bed, floor, and even the table were left disordered and hot to the touch.
Ling He picked up the sex toys Xiaodao had given him and frowned when he saw the collar. An unpleasant memory associated with collars flickered through his mind. He abandoned it and threw it under the bed, keeping only the handcuffs.
Without ceremony, he cuffed Mr. Yan on the bed, both hands secured behind his back.
Yan Xiaodao turned his face to look at him and smiled tenderly, letting him do as he pleased.
They caught each other’s lips and kissed intimately, their lower bodies chasing each other and colliding until both were dazed, morning and evening nearly reversed before their eyes. Sunlight traveled along the window frame from the head of the bed to the foot, quietly watching the hours pass over them.
Ling He drove a low gasp out of Yan Xiaodao, then tugged on the handcuffs and pulled him upright from the bed.
Yan Xiaodao leaned back against Ling He’s shoulder with both hands cuffed behind him. Sweat trickled drop by drop from his temples and neck, then slid along the groove of his chest and over his abs. When the teasing sweat crossed the two reddened points on Mr. Yan’s chest, Ling He wiped it away with lips and fingers. Yan Xiaodao roared in pleasure as he was repeatedly driven into below, almost unable to stay kneeling.
Mr. Ling was nearly pounding the ribbon bow between his own thighs straight into Yan Xiaodao’s body…
If you know, you know. Mr. Yan adamantly refused to admit that his lover had fucked him into familiarity and addiction, but the bass notes coming from his throat in bed confessed everything for him. He too was driven delirious with pleasure, practically floating into paradise. That was why he loved Ling He so much, could not bear to part, could not live without him.
The bound man looked like a god, kneeling in a thoroughly humiliating posture while his muscles trembled nonstop. Yet his eyes blazed with the pleasure of someone ready to ascend directly to heaven.
Still hard, unable to take care of himself with his hands trapped behind him, he could only laugh low and beg Ling He: again, faster, faster, fuck me until I come.
Behind him, Mr. Ling was like an energetic boy who never tired. A thought struck him, and he remembered the expensive toy again, bending down to retrieve something from beside the bed.
Ling He detached the collar and threw it away. He wanted only the gleaming silver chain.
One end of the chain he wound several times around himself where their bodies were joined, and the other end he lightly wrapped around the iron-hard erection in front of Mr. Yan.
“When I move, you move too. When I shake, you shake with me…” Ling He instructed softly beside Mr. Yan’s ear.
“The two of us are connected,” Ling He murmured in satisfaction, then kissed him again.
Yan Xiaodao stared down at the thing between his legs, eyes burning red. The cool, hard touch of the silver chain entered his body from behind while the same sharp metal sensation tightened around the scorching, swollen flesh in front. It drove a person mad. Both men went mad.
“Xiaohe…”
“Mm… ah! Ah!… Xiaohe, Xiaohe…”
Two more cars climbed the mountain road, and commotion sounded outside the cabin.
Guests had arrived, but the hosts were busy and had no time to open the door.
Knock, knock, knock again… Immortal Mao pounded on the door without success, backed several steps down the porch stairs, and began considering whether the chimney on the roof was wide enough for her to crawl inside.
“Mr. Yan’s car is obviously here. What are those two doing?” Su Zhe said.
“The curtains are all drawn. There’s only one little window showing anything, and it’s completely fogged up. You can’t see a thing.” Mao Zhixiu shrugged.
“Let’s go back. Mr. Yan is pampering our Mr. Ling.” Liu Huizhen covered her mouth and laughed, whispering to Immortal Mao.
“Really?” Su Zhe clenched his little fists. “Ahhh, then I want to go in and watch!”
“You really shouldn’t. You’ll only break your own heart.” Immortal Mao grinned wickedly. “More like our Mr. Ling is ‘pampering’ Mr. Yan in all sorts of ways.”
“No! No!…” Su Zhe hammered on the door. “Mr. Ling, let him go! Let him go! Let go and let me do it!…”
“What did I just hear?!”
“Drums? Trumpets?… No, wait. Sounds more like artillery going off.”
“Ah, I think I can hear the wooden bed upstairs collapsing…”
The flames in the fireplace, almost extinguished, seemed to draw a deep breath of sweet air. The fire suddenly came alive and shivered again, reflecting the two people embracing on the bed.
Still connected below by the thin silver chain, they quietly kissed each other and stroked the person held in their arms.
The cabin was simply furnished, without ostentation or luxury. Much of the furniture and old objects accumulated by the previous owners over twenty years had been kept. Upstairs there was even an old English-style sewing machine, a writing desk with hidden compartments and shallow drawers, and a tanned-leather recliner.
A massive bearskin hung in the downstairs living room. Twenty years earlier there had been many bears in the area, and legal bear hunting had still been permitted in the nearby mountains.
No one knew when the big clock on the wall had broken. After Mr. Ling bought the cabin, he never replaced it. There was no need to know the time or the year. Let those hands remain forever stopped at one moment.
Years flowed through the room while light shifted across the walls in an instant. No one knew what year this moment truly belonged to. They only knew the person before them was the person in their heart.
*
*
More than ten years earlier, the cabin had not been built for long. The roof and porch had not yet grown such thick patches and moss.
The snowy mountain and great lake were already a state scenic area by then. Several RVs and family cars stood in a clearing between the trees. Farther into the dense forest, backpackers had pitched camping tents, their scattered fires staining the deep night with warm red light.
Two big boys walked back and forth through the woods, collecting a pile of wood and stacking it in the clearing before their tent, then rekindling a fire over a bed of black embers.
Qu Jia spent more than ten determined minutes drilling into a thick wooden stump. Sweat soaked through his clothes before he finally coaxed out a wisp of gray smoke.
“You’re pretty good at this, huh?” Zhou Yao stared at him. “So this is how you make fire by rubbing wood together!”
“I quit smoking and didn’t bring a lighter. What else am I supposed to do?” Qu Jia said. “Grass, grass, grass. Grass and leaves!”
Zhou Yao casually dumped on a pile of grass and dry leaves. A burst of black smoke choked both men so badly they threw themselves backward, rolling and scrambling seven or eight meters away. Hahahaha. Zhou Yao wiped his face and smeared black ash all over it. Qu Jia reached out to wipe YaoYao’s face, only making him blacker.
Zhou Yao built another rack from firewood and announced that he was going into the forest to hunt a deer so they could roast venison.
“Deer are so cute.” Qu Jia sat on one side of the fire, expressionless, slowly poking the wood together. “Almost as cute as you. Don’t bully the deer.”
“Then what meat are we eating tomorrow?” Zhou Yao shouted. “I only brought potatoes. Tomorrow we’re eating grass and roasted potatoes?”
“Go hunt a wild boar?” Qu Jia said.
“I can’t beat a wild boar.” Firelight flickered across Zhou Yao’s face as he slumped clingily against Qu Jia’s shoulder. “Mm… mm… Heard there are bears. Never mind, can’t beat a bear either.”
“Your husband will roast potatoes for you!” Zhou Yao declared forcefully.
Qu Jia muttered, “Wrong grammar. Watch where you put the pause.” Zhou Yao said, “What’s wrong with it?” Qu Jia said, “You can’t even speak Chinese properly anymore, can you?”
Zhou Yao was sly and doing it on purpose. Every time he said “Husband, I’ll roast potatoes for you,” he spoke so quickly that he swallowed the crucial comma, turning it into “Your husband will roast potatoes for you.” To Qu Jia, that single comma marked the enormous difference between being the “sky” and being the “earth,” and he absolutely refused to let YaoYao steal that advantage.
Elio’s Notes: The missing comma changes who gets called “husband”: with it, Zhou Yao is addressing Qu Jia; without it, Zhou Yao cheekily casts himself as the husband. The narration’s “sky” versus “earth” joke also plays on who gets the upper hand in their relationship.
Qu Jia rubbed his hands together, pinched Zhou Yao’s face until YaoYao’s lips puckered like a little fish, and kissed him. Firelight danced along the lashes where their faces drew close.
Snowy mountain, great lake, deep forest: scenery like a paradise beyond the world. Even more moving than the beauty was that they could kiss openly and properly here, ignoring the occasional glances sweeping through the darkness around them.
The school’s graduation ceremony had taken place three days earlier. Zhou Yao had received his degree and was preparing to return to China for work.
Qu Jia had come to attend YaoYao’s graduation and, while he was here, make up for their honeymoon. A rare stretch of time when they could hold hands and be alone.
It was too hard. Soon they would have to separate again and look toward each other from faraway places, because the securities-investment giant where Zhou Yao had interned in America had no Beijing branch. If Zhou Yao gave up staying in the United States, his only options were its Hong Kong or Shanghai offices.
Zhou Yao chose Shanghai and had already signed the contract.
Let’s work hard for two more years and wait until we’re truly independent.
Two years from now, I’ll still come back. I’ll come back and hold you.
The two of them always seemed to be running, chasing, desperately pursuing each other’s shadows. Every dragonfly-light reunion across the years was followed by another long, tormenting wait: waiting for the next time they could touch the face before them, waiting to see you again.
Although he could not beat a wild boar or a bear, Zhou Yao used his brain and cleverly made two sharpened fishing spears.
After racking his brain with single-minded obsession, he was determined to eat meat. If Student Zhou Yao went a few days without meat, he would become anemic and weak. At night he would not even have the strength to fuck his husband.
They stood at a bend in the river, spearing fish.
Both men stood waist-deep in the water, perfectly still. When a big fish came, their eyes and hands struck fast.
They competed to see who could spear more. Staying within the park’s catch limit, they brought back a whole bucket, and that day’s meal was salmon from the lake district.
They had never eaten fish this fresh. The two crouched around a large rock, making an enormous racket while cleaning them. Zhou Yao squinted, clutching the violently twisting tail of a large fish but unable to bring himself to kill it, so his husband had to do the actual slaughter while Zhou Yao handled the cheering, shrieking and laughing without restraint.
The people shouted, and the fish seemed to shout too. Their T-shirts and shorts became a complete mess, two pairs of long legs flashing over the riverbank while fish scales and swim bladders flew everywhere… The day was unbelievably happy, stupid, and funny. The great river quietly watched this pair who would never grow up, a delicate whirlpool forming in its center before flowing lightly away, almost as though the river itself had smiled a dimple.
They were clearly no longer children, yet whenever they met again, each still saw the boy from those earlier years.
After a dinner of smoked salmon, they squeezed into the campground’s little wooden cubicle to take a cold shower.
Everything at the campsite carried the rough atmosphere of wilderness. The toilet was a simple non-flushing seat, and the shower was nothing more than a spray nozzle hung behind a wooden door.
The cubicle was too narrow. Once Qu Jia squeezed in and Zhou Yao pushed in after him, it was as though Zhou Yao’s ass simply would not fit. He pressed tight against the door, rubbing and unable to turn around, while Qu Jia crowded him from the front, hooked an arm around his neck, and kissed him, kissing his collarbone and chest.
In the most intimate face-to-face position, they stroked each other’s strong, mature bodies. Loved it. Loved it so much.
Water ran for a long time, flowing over their heads, shoulders, eyelids and lashes, then down their chests and lower bellies.
A single droplet clung to the upturned treasure. Zhou Yao laughed first and covered it shyly. Qu Jia pulled his hand away, crouched down with difficulty in the cramped space, licked away the trembling drop, and kept kissing little YaoYao…
“Ah! The door’s shaking, shaking. Get up, it’s going to collapse!”
The secret thrill was drowned beneath a wave of wild laughter, then submerged again by the endless rush of running water.
At night, mountain lights reflected against a sky full of stars. Wrapped together in sleeping bags, they made love for a while, rested for a while. Now and then they lifted the little flap of the tent, bare shoulders showing through the gap as they searched the sky for constellations.
“Hey, you pitched your little tent again.”
“Did I?”
“It’s standing up already.”
“Then, YaoYao, touch me.”
“Hehe. I touched it hard. Now what?”
“Fuck you.”
“Come on. Hurry, hurry.”
Zhou Yao got himself into a very tempting position and waited several seconds, only to feel a faint little cool breeze drift past behind him. “…”
He could not help turning around and roaring, “Husband??!!”
Could lazy JiaJia possibly be sticking his own ass up too, waiting for Zhou Yao to come generate heat and power?!
“Heh, coming.” Qu Jia lazily rolled over with a smile, suddenly hugged Zhou Yao from behind, pushed him face-first into the sleeping bag, and covered both their heads…
Chaos erupted. One tent genuinely could not contain two wild boars rooting around inside it. Panting and laughter continued without end. By the latter half of the night, sex had turned into the two of them hugging each other and playfully biting, competing to see who could leave more kiss marks and whose marks looked more like flowers.
As they drifted toward sleep, Qu Jia unexpectedly pulled Zhou Yao’s head out of his arms and buried himself against Zhou Yao’s chest instead, rubbing there for a long while almost like he was acting spoiled. He said he did not want to go back to work. Work meant the “three kinds of company”: sitting through meetings, dinner engagements, and drinking sessions!
He did not want to drink.
Lord Jia was terrible at drinking.
In the two or three years after the millennium, the employment market had shifted. State-owned enterprises and public institutions were no longer as coveted, and locals who did not need household registration flocked toward higher-paying foreign companies. Large multinationals chased energetic, capable young graduates and seemed to raise salaries overnight. Offers below four thousand were barely looked at on campus. Six thousand was normal. Negotiations pushed to eight thousand. These were a few of the years when graduates of Peking and Tsinghua were especially prized.
Qu Jia joined a fairly famous foreign company that was planning its Asia-Pacific business layout and marketing strategy and hired a large group of young people. Back then, the branch manager took one look up and down at Qu Jia in his dark suit and thought, oh, rare catch, a handsome young guy. The company was short on presentable, capable men who could fight their way through business, so hurry up and transfer him to marketing.
A little “Manager” badge appeared on his suit chest. Go entertain clients.
Someone too lazy to talk was forced to start talking.
Someone who could not drink was forced to build an alcohol tolerance.
It was all to make a living. A man still had to earn money to support a family.
Zhou Yao held him and coaxed him clingily for a long time, messing up Qu Jia’s hair. “Just drive one of your family’s fancy cars to the company entrance and blind those people, then slap a resignation letter right across your boss’s face! Tell them you’re done working for them, you’re not playing anymore, you’re going home to open a shop and become the big boss!”
Qu Jia laughed and kissed Zhou Yao’s neck.
Zhou Yao whispered, “I don’t want to see you drink. I’m scared you’ll get drunk at one of those tables and someone will touch you or take advantage of you…”
Qu Jia scoffed. “Who the hell wants to touch me? Who wants to die…”
Before dawn, someone crawled out of the sleeping bag. Cold. Shivering and tucked in on himself, he found clothes to put on and slipped outside to relieve himself.
Qu Jia had been curled warmly inside the sleeping bag. He glanced over, still did not feel safe, and quickly dressed to follow.
Qu Jia hugged Zhou Yao from behind as they walked. “Afraid a bear might carry my wife away.”
When they came back, they quickly burrowed into the sleeping bag and curled together for warmth. In the faint early light, Zhou Yao opened his laptop and began typing. Qu Jia turned over, glanced once, and was horrified to discover that this palace eunuch in charge of bedroom records was now keeping them in an Excel spreadsheet!
Fuck, what kind of illness was this?
Just give your husband a little blue checkmark for being domineering and handsome. Were you going to record today’s “length,” “hardness,” and “stamina” as separate metrics?
Were all top students like this? Starting to regret marrying an overachiever.
YaoYao, are you also going to record your husband’s “concentration,” “formula,” “color,” and “taste” or something?
“Mom will figure it out,” Qu Jia said in terror.
“She won’t. I use English abbreviations. She won’t understand when she opens it.” Zhou Yao was dead serious, full of the attitude of someone conducting research and writing a thesis.
“Dad might not figure it out, but Mom definitely will. Mom is way too sharp.” Professor Yu’s eyes flashed through Qu Jia’s mind, sending a shiver down his back. Terrifying.
“You wrote 18CM for me and 25CM for yourself?” Qu Jia’s eyes were sharp enough to spot the key data. He glared at Zhou Yao. “Since when are you 25CM? Did you actually measure? Twenty-five centimeters? You grew yourself a rolling pin?!”
Zhou Yao collapsed over the laptop keyboard laughing. Qu Jia had already gone berserk, ordering him to delete it, delete it, detailed data was forbidden. Zhou Yao shouted, “I’ll password-protect the file so Mom can’t see it,” and was immediately stuffed back into the sleeping bag and beaten up by his husband.
*
Several days later, their honeymoon ended. They packed the tent, pots, pans, and the rest of their simple camping gear and stuffed everything into a rented Jeep.
Even in America, Qu Jia drove whenever the two of them were together. He had specially obtained an international driver’s license for the trip.
Zhou Yao’s eyesight was poor, and after two years in graduate school it had become even worse. Qu Jia would no longer allow him to drive long distances, afraid he would hit a deer on a mountain road, or a tree.
They passed the mountain cabin and stopped the car, looking up at the pale mauve and yellow wildflowers swaying along its roof.
The owners at that time were still an elderly local couple, ranchers who kept horses, chickens, and ducks nearby. Qu Jia flicked his eyes sideways: want to ride? Zhou Yao immediately covered his butt and answered with his own eyes: ow, you bullied me last night, I can’t ride a horse, my ass hurts.
The railings beneath the porch still had fresh pale-green paint, and fiery red flowers spilled like a waterfall over the edge of hanging baskets.
A squirrel hopped away. In the distance, branches of the primeval forest towered overhead. Slanting sunlight spread broken gold across the ground, glittering and radiant.
Back then, the large clock on the wall still worked perfectly, tirelessly performing its duty and keeping precise time.
Looking through the wood-framed window, they could see the writing desk beside the fireplace, the one with little drawers.
“This wooden house is really pretty. A vacation cabin?”
“Mm.”
“Next year we’ll come here again.”
“Sure.”
“Every year we’ll come have another honeymoon.”
“Every year we’ll come get married again?”
“Then let’s get married. Every year we come here, we’ll get married once.”
*
They did not really come every year. Work was too busy and there was never enough time. Only five years later, ten years later, fifteen years later did they return to North America together to revisit the intimate, companionable bond of their youth.
And so they had once again visited these mountains, the great lake, the ski resort, and the cabin in the hills.
The man driving wore a pure black down jacket and leather gloves. When he leaned his head out to look along the mountain road, white breath left his mouth. Behind sunglasses, his face was lean and sharply defined, his haircut cropped short and cool.
“Here.”
“We’re here.”
“There’s a car outside. Someone lives there now.”
“Then don’t go over. We’ll just look. Let’s take a picture together.”
“Come closer to me… Look at my phone camera. Smile… One more. Kiss me. Kiss, kiss… Good.”
Zhou Yao wore a matching gray down jacket with the same understated style. His sunglasses rested on top of his head while he lowered his gaze to beautify the selfie before sending it to his man and then to both families’ group chat.
“Stop editing it. You erased my eyelashes. Is that supposed to look good?” the man beside him said.
“If I keep your eyelashes, my face gets one wrinkle and one tiny pit. No,” Zhou Yao said.
Fucking merciless time. Five years earlier he had been too lazy even to edit photos. At this rate, in another five years they might not dare make love face-to-face and would have to do it back-to-back.
“Let me see. Still natural?”
“Of course. Stop touching me. No foundation. Pure natural beauty.”
“Yeah. You’re beautiful to begin with. You don’t need editing.”
Zhou Yao laughed.
He snatched off the other man’s sunglasses. Before him was that familiar, moving face. Qu Jia’s mouth tilted slightly. Hands in his pockets, he turned to walk away, then suddenly looked back, drew Zhou Yao into his arms, and kissed him hard several times on the forehead and lips. Zhou Yao leaned into the momentum, chased his mouth, and kissed Qu Jia for a long time without wanting to let go.
On the second-floor balcony, a long-haired man in loose trousers passed through the light without a sound. He glanced at them once, the corner of his mouth seeming to lift into the faintest expression. He said nothing and silently turned away.
Qu Jia heard the door or window upstairs move and immediately released Zhou Yao, wiping his mouth. The two lowered their heads and walked away, exchanging a smile through their eyes.
Qu Jia took Zhou Yao’s hand and naturally laced their fingers together as they walked back toward the parked car. They discussed driving to a hotel at the foot of the mountain for the night. Tomorrow they would head to the airport. It was time to go home.
Barefoot, the long-haired Mr. Ling returned to the bedroom, tied his hair behind his head, then crouched down and stirred the fireplace until the flames burned brighter.
The hand on the old wall clock, stopped for a very, very long time, suddenly trembled. Ling He raised his head in astonishment and stared.
Brass gleamed against the rough grain of the wooden wall. Sunlight outside moved onto Ling He’s face, then swept across Yan Xiaodao lying on his back on the bed. The room was quiet enough to hear his shallow sleeping breaths.
The hands began moving with a ka-ka, circling the entire face, slowly completing one revolution as though several years, more than ten years, had passed in a single instant. Dust motes waved to the bewildered man inside the shaft of light, pointing toward the direction in which the current of years slipped across his fingertips.
At the second-floor window, Ling He breathed softly across the sill, blowing apart the petals of a cluster of spreading wildflowers.
Pale mauve petals drifted over the treetops and into the distance. One landed on Zhou Yao’s shoulder. Another landed on the roof of the car.
Zhou Yao smiled at Qu Jia, his smile unchanged from those innocent years.
The Jeep sped away in a cloud of dust, following the winding road until even the shape of the vehicle disappeared, leaving behind a mountain full of green. Where clouds and mist passed before the eyes, everything felt like a dream, like an illusion.
Sitting in the car, Zhou Yao caught Qu Jia’s right hand and held tight to the beautiful time that belonged to them.
Inside the room, Ling He looked toward the handsome man on the bed, then once again became a beautiful large cat and climbed quietly onto the mattress. He tucked himself beneath the covers too and wrapped his arms around Mr. Yan.
The pair on the bed gradually blurred inside a stream of golden sand. Their souls and shadows seemed to separate from the heavy river of human life and slowly rise toward the ceiling. A cloud of golden grains lifted in the wind and spiraled past the window.
*