Feng Hui released Fang Li almost instantly, his movements jerky and panicked. He even reflexively raised both hands above his head in a clear gesture of surrender, desperately trying to convey his innocence. “Brother Qin! This is all a misunderstanding!”
You couldn’t blame him for his frantic reaction—if looks could indeed kill, the icy glare Qin Weidong was currently directing his way would have sliced his neck into a thousand pieces.
Fang Li pushed himself up from the floor, dusting off his damp clothes with an expression that clearly conveyed his utter disgust. “Of course it’s a misunderstanding… Why the hell would I suddenly pounce on him?”
Qin Weidong’s voice was low and carried an unmistakable undercurrent of authority. “Fang Li, go and change your clothes.”
Fang Li shot him a sharp glare, clearly annoyed that Qin Weidong would adopt that commanding tone in front of Feng Hui and potentially embarrass him. But Qin Weidong simply ignored his silent protest, leaving Fang Li with no choice but to turn and stomp towards the bedroom.
Feng Hui quickly grabbed a glass from the table and took a couple of large gulps of cold water, the icy liquid a small attempt to calm his rapidly fraying nerves.
Qin Weidong tossed a folded shirt in his direction. “It’s new.”
Feng Hui caught it and, still shirtless from the earlier… incident, pulled it on right there in the middle of the living room.
“Is the situation at the Xiahe mine all wrapped up yet?” Qin Weidong asked, his tone deceptively casual.
Over the past few weeks, Feng Hui had occasionally called Qin Weidong seeking his advice on various issues that had arisen at the mining site. “Almost. Just like you predicted, the profits are pretty much exactly what you estimated. Lao Fu tried to pull a fast one on me again, but I managed to put him firmly in his place.”
Despite his seemingly calm demeanor, it was obvious that something else was occupying Feng Hui’s thoughts—something that confused and intrigued him in equal measure. Especially the intense look Qin Weidong had directed his way earlier…
Feng Hui knew that particular look. It was the kind of possessive gaze a man only gave someone he considered his own.
He stole a quick glance over at Qin Weidong, but the other man’s expression was now completely unreadable, a carefully constructed mask. The more Feng Hui mentally replayed the earlier scene, the more impossible the implications seemed—but if his suspicions were wrong, then how else could he possibly explain those undeniably intimate marks on Fang Li’s neck?
Could it actually be true?
Feng Hui carefully took out a box of premium liquor he had brought as a gift and placed it on the coffee table. As he began to open the box, he asked in what he hoped was an offhand tone, “Brother Qin, you and Fang Li… you’re close, right? Like, really close for two guys who just happen to be from the same hometown?”
Qin Weidong’s reply was measured and even. “Same as you and Qi Jian.”
“Cough—cough cough—” Feng Hui choked abruptly on his own saliva.
Feng Hui reacted as if he’d just taken a solid punch to the lungs, gasping for air. His face flushed crimson, the color spreading like spilled ink in a chaotic pattern.
Qin Weidong glanced at the bottles of wine he was unpacking from a shopping bag. “No rice wine tonight. If you want to drink, stick to the red.”
“Sure, sure—whatever you want,” Feng Hui managed between a series of painful coughs. But more than the physical discomfort, he was reeling from shock, so much so that he began to doubt his own hearing. Or… had Qin Weidong known all along?
He took a moment to compose himself, clearing his throat. “So… you’ve known for a while then, Brother Qin? When did you actually find out?”
Qin Weidong replied calmly, without looking up, “Back at the mine.”
A wave of awkwardness washed over Feng Hui. “So… that early, huh.”
But the more he considered it, the more it strangely clicked into place. Qin Weidong probably figured out the whole dynamic between him and Qi Jian ages ago. Otherwise, that time Fang Li had gone to sing at the nightclub and Qin Weidong couldn’t reach him—why else would he have called him specifically? He must have already known that Qi Jian wasn’t on campus and was likely with him instead.
Once that realization settled in, Feng Hui felt a significant weight lift from his shoulders. The earlier unease dissipated.
Qin Weidong had brought back a generous haul of groceries from the market. Feng Hui watched as he efficiently rolled up his sleeves and got to work in the small kitchen—washing and chopping vegetables with a practiced ease that suggested it was a daily routine.
The fish had already been cleaned at the market, and Qin Weidong meticulously sliced some fresh ginger to marinate it, a familiar method to eliminate any lingering fishy smell.
Feng Hui looked genuinely surprised. “You cook? Wait a minute—what about Fang Li?”
Qin Weidong glanced over his shoulder, a slight tilt to his head. “Fang Li?”
“Yeah, he’s home all day, right? Doesn’t go to work or anything. He’s got all the time in the world, doesn’t he ever cook? You’re working your ass off over in Chaojiang and you’re still the one making dinner?”
“He doesn’t know how,” Qin Weidong stated simply, without any further elaboration.
That was it? Feng Hui was momentarily speechless. Compared to that, his Qi Jian truly was a gem—obedient, sweet-natured, and always looking out for him.
“What are your plans after the New Year?” Qin Weidong asked as he expertly filleted the marinated fish.
Feng Hui sighed. “Haven’t really decided yet. My second uncle just landed another pretty significant mining contract back in the county—government-backed, no less. He wants me to head over and help manage it. But right now, I’ve got Qi Jian here with me…”
He hesitated for a moment, then continued, “Guess I can tell you now—Qi Jian and I actually went to the same high school. I was the one who liked him first. My family found out about it, and things got… really ugly. He ended up dropping out because of all the pressure. I went to work for my second uncle, but I’ve always been on edge, terrified that someone else would find out. If things don’t work out with this new contract, I might just take some money from home and try to go it solo…”
Qin Weidong listened attentively, then posed a direct question. “Have you considered coming to work with me?”
Feng Hui was visibly taken aback by the unexpected offer. Qin Weidong continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’ve got a major project kicking off after the New Year. I don’t entirely trust the people already in Chaojiang, and frankly, I’m short-handed. If you’re willing to take on the challenge, I’ll make the necessary arrangements to transfer things over.”
“Of course I’m willing!” Feng Hui agreed almost instantaneously, without a moment’s hesitation.
Whether it was a gut feeling inherited from his shrewd second uncle or simply his own intuition, Feng Hui was certain of one thing—Qin Weidong was no ordinary man. Working alongside him would undoubtedly be a far better path than fumbling through unfamiliar territory on his own.
“You can absolutely count on me, Brother Qin. I’ll give it my absolute best.”
Qin Weidong gave a curt nod of approval. Over the past several months, Feng Hui’s frequent calls for advice hadn’t gone unnoticed. He’d clearly observed Feng Hui’s growing competence in handling complex situations—quick-witted and a remarkably fast learner.
Just like that, the matter was settled. A weight that had been lingering on Feng Hui’s mind for what felt like an eternity finally lifted. He looked at Qin Weidong, then cleared his throat slightly and said, “Brother Qin, there’s something I think I should probably mention… it’s become a little too obvious to ignore.”
Qin Weidong looked up, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “What is it?”
Feng Hui figured Qin Weidong was probably completely oblivious. He subtly pointed to his own neck, offering a pointed hint. “Fang Li… those marks are becoming rather noticeable. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to go to work, but with so many people coming and going these days…”
The moment the words left Feng Hui’s lips, comprehension dawned in Qin Weidong’s eyes. He carefully set down the knife he had been using to prepare dinner. Seeing the shift in his demeanor, Feng Hui quickly added, “It’s about time—Qi Jian should be getting off work right about now. You two can talk. I’ll go pick him up and be right back.”
Inside the bedroom, Fang Li had just shed his damp clothes and tossed them carelessly at the foot of the bed. He pulled on a clean, comfortable long-sleeved shirt. The central heating had already been turned on in Jinyang, so the room was pleasantly warm. Just as he was about to leave the room, Qin Weidong walked in.
Qin Weidong’s gaze swept over him, finally settling on his neck. “Go change.”
Fang Li looked down at himself, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why? Is this one dirty too?”
But Qin Weidong had already gently steered him towards the closet, his eyes scanning the hanging garments. He selected a high-necked cashmere sweater and reached out to take off Fang Li’s current shirt. Fang Li instinctively smacked his hand away, a flash of annoyance in his eyes.
However, he didn’t actively resist. He allowed Qin Weidong to slowly slide the hem of his shirt up from his waist. “What is it this time? Is something else bothering you?”
Standing in front of the wardrobe mirror, Qin Weidong lightly ran his fingers over the faint yet unmistakable marks scattered across Fang Li’s neck and collarbone—some delicate, others a bit deeper. “Someone noticed.”
With his clothes on, the marks hadn’t been quite so conspicuous—but once they were off, the extent of them was undeniably worse.
Fang Li hadn’t fully registered it until that very moment. Who casually checks themselves out in the mirror in broad daylight for no particular reason? He caught one glimpse of his reflection and felt an uncomfortable heat rise to his face.
He quickly averted his gaze, paused for a beat, then suddenly blurted out, “So… Feng Hui knows about us?”
“Yeah,” Qin Weidong replied matter-of-factly while gently guiding Fang Li’s arm into the sleeve of the sweater. “It’s fine. He and Qi Jian are just like us.”
“What? Him and Qi Jian? Are you saying—him and Qi Jian are like us? He’s into men too?” Fang Li was so genuinely surprised that a whole string of incredulous questions tumbled out of his mouth.
“Mm.” Once the soft cashmere sweater was on, Qin Weidong carefully adjusted the folded collar, ensuring it completely concealed the tell-tale hickeys that had just made Fang Li’s cheeks burn. A fleeting shadow of desire crossed Qin Weidong’s face—as if he was feeling the constraints of time—and he quickly reined himself in.
“When we have guests over, wear this.”
“I’ll die from the heat in this thing. You’ve had guests practically every single day lately… There’s no way I’m wearing this all the time.” Fang Li grumbled, already feeling the warmth of the room intensify under the thick knit. He reached behind his neck to pull the sweater off, but Qin Weidong’s hand stopped him. Fang Li raised a questioning eyebrow. “What? Whose fault is it that we’re even in this situation? Why am I the one stuck wearing thick, high-necked sweaters? Can’t you tone it down a bit? Quit biting me all the time…”
This wasn’t just about the sweater; a deeper annoyance simmered beneath the surface. Fang Li was clearly trying to assert himself, to make Qin Weidong understand that he wouldn’t simply be treated like a nightly indulgence without voicing his displeasure.
Qin Weidong didn’t offer a verbal response, but the subtle tightening of his jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes clearly conveyed his dissatisfaction with Fang Li’s protest. He gently pinched Fang Li’s chin, tilting his face towards the mirror, then deliberately tugged down the soft collar of the sweater and planted another unmistakable bite on his exposed neck—just like that, a fresh, angry red mark bloomed against his pale skin.
“You did that on purpose!” Fang Li burst out, his voice sharp with indignation.
Qin Weidong met the fury in his eyes, the corners of his mouth curving into the faintest hint of a smile. Fang Li stared at his reflection in the mirror—it was a complete and utter disaster.
“You’re such a bastard!”
Qin Weidong looked up, his expression calm and resolute. “Just showing you—it’s not negotiable.”
“…”
Fang Li was so infuriated he felt as if his hair might literally stand on end. This man—this absolute bastard—was utterly outrageous!
Before Fang Li’s anger could fully erupt into a verbal storm, Qin Weidong smoothly slipped an arm around his waist, leaning in to brush his lips lightly against the corner of Fang Li’s mouth. A tender smile played on his lips as he murmured, “Be good, okay? Baby…”
The fury that had been blazing in Fang Li’s eyes just moments before seemed to dissipate, his face flushing a tell-tale shade of red on cue. “Don’t call me that…! You only say these sweet things when you’re trying to get your way!”
It seemed Qin Weidong had once again found the magic words to soothe Fang Li’s ruffled feathers and bring him back to a semblance of calm. He continued, his voice soft but possessive, “I just don’t want anyone else looking at you like that. From head to toe, you’re mine.”
“Alright, alright, I get it…!” Even the tips of Fang Li’s ears were burning, radiating a heat hotter than boiling water. How could he be so utterly useless against Qin Weidong’s charms? Just a few saccharine words from this infuriating man, and he surrendered completely.
“Fine, I’ll wear it…! You win, okay? But you have to promise me you’ll tone it down a bit. After the New Year, no matter what, I am going out to find a job. If you keep supporting me like this, I’ll turn into a complete idiot.”
Seeing that Qin Weidong was simply holding him close and peppering his face with soft kisses without actually answering his demand, Fang Li already knew the likely outcome—Qin probably didn’t agree with his plan.
Still, he pressed on, a note of genuine concern in his voice. “Did you hear me? I’m serious. I can’t just stay cooped up in your line of sight forever…”
Qin Weidong genuinely struggled to understand Fang Li’s insistence—what was so terrible about being close? But knowing that Feng Hui would be returning soon with Qi Jian, he didn’t want to engage in a full-blown argument right now. He could only kiss Fang Li again, a lingering pressure on his lips, and say, “We’ll talk about it properly after the New Year.”
……
At the supermarket entrance, Feng Hui spotted Qi Jian and quickly pulled him close, warming his chilled hands in his own before launching into the story of Qin Weidong and Fang Li’s… intimate display. He had fully expected Qi Jian to be as utterly shocked and bewildered as he had been—but to his considerable surprise, Qi Jian only looked mildly amused.
“You already knew?” Feng Hui asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Qi Jian nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Brother Qin treats… Fang Li very well.” He then explained that back in night school, they used to share a dorm room, and most of Fang Li’s daily needs and even small inconveniences in the dorm were always quietly taken care of by Qin Weidong.
A faint pang of jealousy pricked at Feng Hui. “So, you’re saying I don’t treat you well?”
“No, that’s not what I meant at all…!” Qi Jian quickly shook his head, his eyes widening slightly. “You’re really good to me too… you even helped me find a job…”
After the New Year celebrations, Feng Hui had indeed arranged for Qi Jian to work as an accountant at a friend’s driving school. The pay was decent, and the work wasn’t physically demanding, a welcome change from his freezing stint selling holiday goods on the street.
“Aiya, I was just teasing you. Don’t get all flustered—take your time,” Qi Jian said quickly, a slight stammer creeping into his voice as he often did when nervous. Feng Hui, keeping one hand firmly on the steering wheel, reached over with his other to gently ruffle Qi Jian’s hair. “Helping you find a job? That barely scratches the surface of treating you well. Silly, we’ve only just begun.”
Qi Jian smiled contentedly, his eyes soft. “Right now… it’s already really good.”
Being with Feng Hui was more than enough for him. Just this simple reality—being able to be openly with Feng Hui—was something he had never dared to dream of. He honestly didn’t crave anything more.
“It’s not enough,” Feng Hui said, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll treat you even better in the future.”
As they arrived downstairs, the sharp crackle and pop of firecrackers filled the air. The sudden noise startled Qi Jian, and without a second thought, Feng Hui scooped him up and carried him piggyback as they hurried inside. They goofed around playfully all the way up the stairs, and by the time Fang Li opened the apartment door, Qi Jian’s face was flushed a vibrant red, as if it might actually bleed.
Fang Li was genuinely happy to see Qi Jian, someone he hadn’t seen in quite a while. Qi Jian was one of the few truly steadfast friends he’d had growing up. The four of them opened a bottle of red wine, the rich color swirling in their glasses. It was the most relaxed and genuine New Year’s meal Fang Li had experienced in a long time—he didn’t have to maintain the awkward charade of being Qin Weidong’s younger brother in front of anyone.
Seeing Fang Li so carefree and happy, Qin Weidong felt a quiet sense of satisfaction settle within him—at least until Fang Li reached for his wine glass. Then, his protective instincts kicking in, he quickly but gently stopped him.
Fang Li could only sigh and give up. Most things in their life were open to negotiation with Qin Weidong, but when it came to his health, there was absolutely no room for discussion or compromise.
The four of them clinked glasses amidst the cheerful cacophony of fireworks erupting outside, their laughter and conversation flowing easily. When Feng Hui recounted the hilariously audacious story of how Old Fu had tried to manipulate the mine’s financial books—so crudely it was almost an insult to their intelligence—Fang Li nearly doubled over with laughter, and would have slid right under the table if Qin Weidong hadn’t been there to steady him.
The bottle of red wine eventually ran dry, and they moved on to open a bottle of potent baijiu, the clear liquor filling their glasses.
As the night deepened, Feng Hui became a little tipsy, his words slurring slightly. Qin Weidong efficiently tidied up the spare room and then helped a slightly unsteady Feng Hui inside so that he and Qi Jian could spend the night there comfortably.
When Qin Weidong came back out into the living room, he found Fang Li standing by the window, a thin plume of smoke curling upwards. At some point during the evening, he must have surreptitiously fished a cigarette from Qin Weidong’s pocket and lit it.
Qin Weidong walked over to him, his footsteps soft on the wooden floor. Fang Li saw him approaching but made no attempt to hide the cigarette, holding it casually between his fingers. If he couldn’t indulge in a celebratory drink, surely he could be allowed the small pleasure of an occasional smoke—that much, he reasoned, should be permissible.
As Fang Li had anticipated, Qin Weidong didn’t scold him for the cigarette. Outside the window, the New Year celebrations continued in a dazzling display of light and sound. One brilliant burst of fireworks after another illuminated the inky night sky, scattering radiant sparks in breathtaking arrays of color. It was a truly spectacular sight.
Fang Li had never witnessed fireworks quite so magnificent. He turned his head slightly and blew a soft puff of smoke onto the bridge of Qin Weidong’s straight nose, then leaned in to kiss the corner of his lips, murmuring softly, “It’s the New Year already… time really flies, doesn’t it?”
He couldn’t help but reflect on the stark contrast to the previous year. This time last year, he and Qin Weidong had been practically cornered, without even a reliable place to sleep. But now, in the span of just one short year, they had managed to establish themselves in the provincial capital and no longer had to constantly worry about the gnawing pressures of money or basic survival.
“Qin Weidong,” Fang Li said, his voice carrying a newfound conviction, “from now on, we have to spend every single New Year together, just like this.”
He rested his head comfortably on Qin Weidong’s shoulder, the familiar scent of him a comforting presence. Back when Qin Weidong had so insistently pushed their relationship forward, Fang Li had still harbored a significant amount of doubt and uncertainty. But now, looking back, he realized with a quiet certainty that he was the one who couldn’t bear the thought of being apart from Qin Weidong.
“We will,” Qin Weidong replied quietly, his voice a low rumble against Fang Li’s ear. He gently took the smoldering cigarette from Fang Li’s lips and placed it between his own. Then, with a swift, effortless motion, he scooped Fang Li up into his arms, carrying him steadily towards the bedroom. “If you really want to smoke, I won’t stop you entirely—but just this one, okay?”
Fang Li didn’t truly have a smoking habit; it was simply the celebratory atmosphere of the night that had sparked a fleeting craving for a single cigarette. He readily agreed without argument, his body relaxing in Qin Weidong’s strong embrace.
Qin Weidong set him down gently on the soft mattress. Mindful of falling ashes, he stubbed the cigarette out in the small ashtray on the bedside table. When he turned back to hold Fang Li, he found that Fang Li had already wrapped his arms loosely around his neck, his eyelids heavy with drowsiness. “I’m sleepy…” he murmured softly.
“Let’s sleep, then,” Qin Weidong coaxed gently, his voice filled with tenderness as he helped Fang Li change into his pajamas. But even after Fang Li had drifted off into a peaceful slumber, Qin Weidong lay awake beside him, his eyes wide open in the dim light of the room, unable to find his own rest.
He couldn’t shake the underlying worry that had been growing steadily over the past year. Fang Li’s stamina had noticeably worsened; even something as simple as sharing a lively dinner with friends seemed to leave him utterly exhausted. Qin Weidong’s thoughts drifted back to the doctor’s cautious words: given the hospital’s current resources and limitations, the most prudent approach remained conservative treatment. A premature surgical intervention would carry extremely high risks…
Lowering his gaze to the sleeping figure beside him, Qin Weidong made a silent, unwavering vow in the quiet darkness of the room—whatever it took, whatever sacrifices were necessary, he would ensure that Fang Li received the best, most foolproof treatment available. There couldn’t be even the slightest margin for error when it came to Fang Li’s life.
Axolotl Translations 
Leave a comment