The wind howled, the rain lashed down, and dark clouds churned like ink.
After returning from the cemetery to the city, Tan Qing’s car stopped outside a villa community. Rain blurred the view beyond the windshield.
He sat in the car for a moment before picking up his phone to make a call.
Seeing the caller ID, Zhu Lianzhen immediately sat up in bed and answered, “Hello?”
“Still awake?” Tan Qing asked.
“I just got home,” Zhu Lianzhen lied without thinking. “I went for a walk with Koty after dinner, and walked forever. I’m totally exhausted… Are you done with what you had to do?”
“Mm. But the wipers are broken, and I can’t see the road clearly. I happened to be near your place,” Tan Qing said. “I wanted to ask if I could stay over for the night?”
“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
Tan Qing didn’t respond. Zhu Lianzhen said “Hello?” twice more and realized the call had been disconnected. His heart tightened, and he quickly got out of bed.
Before he could find an umbrella, the doorbell rang.
Zhu Lianzhen slipped on his slippers and ran downstairs. When he opened the door, a chill hit him in the face. The person standing outside told him, “My phone ran out of battery just now and shut off.”
“Did you park the car?” Zhu Lianzhen asked.
“I was worried about hitting something if I drove in, so I just left it by the roadside.”
After Tan Qing came in, Zhu Lianzhen saw his hair and clothes soaked from the rain. Normally, anyone caught in the rain would look like a mess, but he still carried himself with grace. Zhu Lianzhen handed him a brand-new towel. Tan Qing gave him his phone and headed into the first-floor bathroom with practiced ease.
While plugging in the charger, Zhu Lianzhen thought of something: the phone had probably run out of battery because the call had lasted too long.
Everyone forgot to hang up once in a while, and most people wouldn’t associate it with eavesdropping. But Zhu Lianzhen felt guilty. He had probably done it on purpose… Either way, he didn’t want Tan Qing to find out.
As soon as the battery reached 1%, Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t wait to turn on the phone and input the six-digit passcode based on his memory. Fortunately, Tan Qing hadn’t changed his password all these years, and it unlocked without issue.
Recent calls no longer showed durations by default. Zhu Lianzhen tapped on the record, which had lasted over an hour, swiped left, and deleted it.
Only then did he feel at ease. He placed Tan Qing’s phone back where it was.
After his shower, Tan Qing came out wearing a brand-new white bathrobe and caught the rich scent of black tea. Zhu Lianzhen had guessed he hadn’t eaten dinner and knew he didn’t like late-night snacks. After rummaging through the fridge for a while, he decided to make him a hot drink instead.
“Tea this late? Are you trying to keep me up?” Tan Qing sat beside Zhu Lianzhen. Though that’s what he said, he lifted the teacup without the slightest hesitation.
“If you go to sleep right after drinking, the tea won’t have any effect,” Zhu Lianzhen said. “Every time I accidentally drink coffee before bed, I just go to sleep right after. I’ve never had insomnia.”
Tan Qing took a couple of sips of the steaming tea and said, “It’s fine. I wasn’t going to sleep tonight anyway.”
Zhu Lianzhen pretended not to know and asked, “What were you busy with?”
“Personal matters.”
Those two words marked the end of the conversation, and any adult with a sense of boundaries would know to change the subject.
But Zhu Lianzhen kept asking, “What kind of personal matters? Be more specific.”
Tan Qing’s hand paused mid-air as he held the teacup. He looked at Zhu Lianzhen. “Something to do with my relatives. It actually doesn’t have much to do with me. It’s complicated—not worth bringing up.”
“Oh.” Zhu Lianzhen wasn’t interested in asking something he already knew. What he was truly curious about was something else. “Are you unhappy tonight?”
“Hm?”
“You were out for so long. I feel like you probably weren’t happy,” Zhu Lianzhen said. “And it was raining too.”
Tan Qing placed the cup on the side table and nodded, as if pondering something. “That’s your basis for thinking I’m in a bad mood?”
“I couldn’t tell. That’s why I’m asking.”
Tan Qing looked straight at him. Zhu Lianzhen went on, “Otherwise, why would you come to my place? If you went to a hotel, someone would park your car for you. No risk of getting a ticket.”
“You’re saying I came here to get comforted?” Tan Qing said, then gave a short laugh.
Zhu Lianzhen fired back instantly, “Think whatever you want. Stop always giving me these ridiculous reasons.”
“I didn’t come with any purpose, Xiao Zhu.” Tan Qing tilted his head as he looked at him. “Just crashing for a night. I won’t be a bother.”
Zhu Lianzhen opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but held back.
Tan Qing picked up his phone, which was still charging, and checked the time. Zhu Lianzhen sat beside him, lost in his own thoughts. When he turned his head again, he noticed Tan Qing was still staring at the screen. From that angle, Zhu Lianzhen could see part of it. “What are you looking at?”
“Battery usage,” Tan Qing said. “Calls took up 61%. I didn’t realize they used that much power.”
Zhu Lianzhen stared at him.
Tan Qing unplugged the charger. Zhu Lianzhen suddenly said, “I don’t mind being bothered.” After a few seconds of silence, he added, “You’ve used my bathroom, my towel, my teapot, and my charger. You’ve already bothered me.”
Tan Qing asked him, “What time are you planning to sleep?”
“I’m not tired yet.”
“Come here.” Tan Qing lifted his arm like he was reaching to hold hands. Zhu Lianzhen walked over to him and, as expected, was pulled into an embrace. Tan Qing’s hand slipped under his pajamas, and he rested his forehead in the hollow of Zhu Lianzhen’s shoulder, gently stroking the skin along his back.
Zhu Lianzhen turned his head slightly. His breath was filled with the scent of neroli and jasmine from the shampoo, the same one in his own hair. He raised his hand and gently twirled a lock of Tan Qing’s hair between his fingers, then cautiously leaned in and kissed the corner of Tan Qing’s mouth. With his eyes closed, he felt the curve of a smile already forming on Tan Qing’s lips, and the kiss quickly deepened.
After a moment, Tan Qing gave him a bit of space to breathe, though their lips still brushed together. Zhu Lianzhen’s voice was slightly hoarse. “Isn’t the black tea I bought pretty good?”
“You added sugar,” Tan Qing said with certainty.
“No, I dropped a sugar cube in at first, then took it out right away. Figured you probably don’t like it too sweet.”
“I do.” Tan Qing softly laughed and kissed him again.
Beside them was a sideboard, and the utensils hanging on the rack clinked with a faint rattle. Zhu Lianzhen hated that kind of small, scattered noise. While enjoying the entanglement of lips and tongues, he gently pushed at Tan Qing’s shoulders with both hands until they slowly made their way back to the leather sofa. The moment their bodies fell onto it, the world seemed to spin. Zhu Lianzhen instinctively shut his eyes and felt Tan Qing’s palm cushioning the back of his head.
“Don’t you think it’s cramped here?” Tan Qing slowly unfastened the buttons on Zhu Lianzhen’s pajamas. Zhu Lianzhen’s cheeks burned, and he stiffly replied, “I like cramped spaces.”
By the time the last button came undone, most of Zhu Lianzhen’s chest was already exposed. But Tan Qing’s hands stopped there. He asked softly, “Is this your way of comforting me?”
Zhu Lianzhen ignored the question. Tan Qing continued, “Or is this what you actually want?”
“No more questions.” Zhu Lianzhen realized Tan Qing was trying to flip the script again.
Tan Qing ignored him. His fingers traced circles over Zhu Lianzhen’s abdominal lines as he murmured, “What are you waiting for, being this tense?”
Zhu Lianzhen furrowed his brows, not understanding why Tan Qing suddenly paused to find fault. He replied, “Aren’t you the expert at reading my mind? Now you actually need me to tell you myself?”
Tan Qing’s body pressed close, his hand continuing its gentle motion. Their faces were so close that it was easy to see the evasiveness in Zhu Lianzhen’s eyes. Tan Qing brushed his nose against Zhu Lianzhen’s cheek and stated plainly, “You think I’m always lying to you. But no matter how much you doubt me, you still end up believing what I say.”
Zhu Lianzhen unconsciously bit the inside of his lower lip, then quickly released it, retorting, “I don’t believe it. I just don’t feel like arguing with you.”
“Even now?”
Zhu Lianzhen relaxed his brow and looked into his eyes.
Their slow breaths intertwined, and in the silence of their gaze, they shared another kiss. Afterward, Zhu Lianzhen turned his face to the side and mumbled, “Pick up my phone for me.”
The phone had slipped from the pocket of his pajamas earlier and hit the floor with a loud thud. At the time, they had been too preoccupied to notice. When the phone was retrieved, Zhu Lianzhen pulled up a call log. Tan Qing saw it and asked, “What does this mean?”
“Before I got home tonight, your call wasn’t disconnected,” Zhu Lianzhen said. “We ended up being on the line for over an hour. I could hear everything you said to Tan Xiao… But I didn’t do it on purpose!” He paused, then lowered his voice abruptly and added, “At least, not at first.”
Maybe deep down, he still wasn’t used to the distance that had grown between him and Tan Qing. Even if it was just a small secret he had hidden, he couldn’t help but confess it. After listening, Tan Qing only responded with a soft “Mm,” showing no further reaction.
Zhu Lianzhen asked, “Aren’t you good at pretending to be pitiful? Why aren’t you pulling that with me now?”
A flicker of light crossed Tan Qing’s eyes, as if slightly surprised. “So that’s what you were waiting for?”
Zhu Lianzhen sat up, and the movement caused Tan Qing to lean back slightly. The two of them faced each other at close range.
“I’ve known this bad habit of yours for a while now. Whenever you feel guilty, you like to respond with a question. Not only do you avoid answering, but you try to cover it up with another question,” Zhu Lianzhen concluded. “You definitely didn’t just happen to be near my place. The broken wipers were just an excuse.”
His gaze dropped, and he tapped on the phone screen with his finger. “You didn’t come here on a whim. You probably had your pitiful lines already prepared, didn’t you? Go on, let’s hear it.”
Tan Qing wasn’t rattled by the accusation. He simply raised an eyebrow and, after a brief pause, gave a helpless look. “So you eavesdropped. Fine. But why do you have to talk about me like that?” His eyes seemed to burn against Zhu Lianzhen’s cheek. “Don’t you care at all that it might hurt me?”
There was a trace of grievance in the last note of his voice, and it successfully redirected Zhu Lianzhen’s attention, making him overlook the fact that Tan Qing had once again responded with a question. Zhu Lianzhen quickly explained, “I asked because I care! I was just exaggerating a little, that’s all…”
Tan Qing placed his palm over the back of Zhu Lianzhen’s hand, his nose almost brushing against him. “I was just joking.”
Zhu Lianzhen saw the curve of Tan Qing’s eyes as they arched upward, as if pleased from having successfully teased him; the grievance in his tone just now had completely vanished.
Tan Qing picked up his own phone, opened the voice memos, and held it out in front of Zhu Lianzhen. On the screen was a recording over an hour and a half long. Zhu Lianzhen pressed play. After a few seconds of ambient noise, the conversation between Tan Qing and Tan Xiao began to play—it was a full recording of their talk by the Lan River that evening.
Zhu Lianzhen looked up at him in confusion.
“Even if you had hung up that call, I still would’ve made sure you heard it.” Tan Qing placed his phone back on the side table.
Zhu Lianzhen was at a loss for words, feeling as if he had unknowingly fallen into this weird situation, carefully crafted by Tan Qing, guiding him step by step into it.
He asked, “Why did you tell me?”
“Because you told me the truth first.” Tan Qing’s eyelashes cast a fine shadow under the light, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. “Then, I had no other choice.”
He openly admitted that all of his emotional display tonight had been a patiently crafted illusion. Even though the behavior defied logic and reason, Zhu Lianzhen didn’t question it and calmly accepted Tan Qing’s explanation.
Zhu Lianzhen vaguely remembered that Tan Qing had once said, “My matters aren’t important.” At the time, he had thought it was just a tactful way to deflect concern. But now, he realized that Tan Qing hadn’t been deliberately avoiding the subject. That detachment was simply part of who he was.
Many things didn’t matter to Tan Qing. But he would make Zhu Lianzhen believe that they did. Just like tonight, he had convincingly played the role of someone lonely, solely to provoke Zhu Lianzhen’s concern.
With one hand braced against the edge of the couch, Tan Qing looked down and asked, “This time, you’re not going to ask me why?”
“I know the reason.”
“What is it?”
Zhu Lianzhen paused for a moment and said, “You want to rely on me.”
A short and offhand response, yet it was also an accurate verdict. Tan Qing couldn’t help narrowing his eyes slightly, as if to focus more clearly on Zhu Lianzhen. On that delicate, innocent-looking face appeared an expression Tan Qing could never quite defend against—firm, pure, and even filled with expectation toward him.
Zhu Lianzhen had seen through his intentions and couldn’t help but ask, “You went to all this trouble to create an image for yourself—did it never occur to you that I might remain unmoved?”
Tan Qing said, “You wouldn’t be unmoved. You’re too soft-hearted.”
“I’m not soft-hearted toward everyone,” Zhu Lianzhen said with a faint scoff.
They were squeezed together on the sofa, their chests nearly touching. Tan Qing leaned in closer. “Only toward me?”
As he asked, he reached out and pinched lightly over the left side of Zhu Lianzhen’s chest through the thin fabric, leaving behind a faint ambiguous mark. His fingertips rested along Zhu Lianzhen’s ribs, and through the skin, he clearly felt the flutter of his heartbeat.
He asked again, “Is your heart soft now, Xiao Zhu?”
Zhu Lianzhen felt a surge of emotion welling up from his chest that he could no longer control. Just as he grabbed Tan Qing’s wrist, trying to push him away, Tan Qing kissed him.
The kiss was more intense than any that had happened earlier that night. Zhu Lianzhen sank back into the sofa again. Before his breath could be entirely stolen by Tan Qing, he managed to find a gap to speak, placed his hand against Tan Qing’s cheek, and answered the earlier question, “Of course, only toward you.”
If there had been time, he would have added, “Only a fool would ask something so obvious.”
The lights in the house were turned off by remote control from a phone. Thick darkness wrapped around their bodies, helping conceal every unrestrained impulse. Outside, rain poured down in torrents, the dense drops striking the glass in a rhythm that masked the heavy breaths inside the room.
“Zhu Lianzhen—”
In the midst of chaotic thoughts, Zhu Lianzhen seemed to hear Tan Qing softly call his name by his ear. But after those three syllables, the rest dissolved into silence within the dark, replaced by the light brush of kisses on his cheek and jaw.
Zhu Lianzhen touched the side of Tan Qing’s face, and his palm felt burning hot. His voice came out through shallow breaths. “What were you going to say just now?”
“Nothing. Just some nonsense I couldn’t hold back.”
Tan Qing replied slowly, still focused on kissing him, his enunciation loose and scattered.
“I’m the only one you can say nonsense to, aren’t I?” Zhu Lianzhen’s voice trembled unconsciously. “So just say it to me.”
His tone of dissatisfaction was overly thickened by desire, sounding more like a plea for something else. Tan Qing chuckled softly, skipped over the subject, and kissed him again in silence. Their bodies instinctively admitted that they still fit together, like every touch was a long-overdue reunion.
At the dead of night, the sudden downpour finally eased.
They restrained themselves enough to find a proper end to this moment of surrender. The scent of black tea had long faded from the room, replaced by something raw and intimate, like rain.
Zhu Lianzhen emerged from the bathroom in a clean set of pajamas, his cheeks still flushed with red. He rolled his neck a few times and turned to see Tan Qing leaning against the bed, holding the small jewelry box that had the earrings inside. Zhu Lianzhen lay down beside him, reached out to close the box, put it away, and turned off the light.
He started to feel sleepy. Just as he was closing his eyes, he heard Tan Qing speak, “One time… I don’t know if it was a dream or a day that really happened.”
“Hm,” Zhu Lianzhen gave a brief response, signaling for him to go on.
“I remember the room being very dark. The lights weren’t on, and the curtains were drawn tightly. I couldn’t tell if it was morning or evening. I just saw you sitting there, like a silhouette. Then, it looked like there was a cup of hot water beside you, and I saw the steam slowly rising.”
“Mm.”
“Did that day ever happen before?” Tan Qing asked.
Zhu Lianzhen had his head resting on Tan Qing’s arm. He tried to recall the scene Tan Qing described. It felt far too ordinary, like something from any given day. He didn’t know.
He was very sleepy. Eyes closed, he replied, “It’ll happen someday.”
