TDH Chapter 20

When Pei Zi arrived, Jiang Cenglan had just dug out a charger and plugged in his phone. As he waited through the eternal boot-up time of an old Apple device, someone pounded heavily on the door. The noise startled him, who had been crouching by the nightstand.

 

Jiang Cenglan rushed to open the door, and there stood Li Que.

 

The draft that came with the opening door carried Li Que’s scent before the man himself. The familiar chypre note hit his nose, and Jiang Cenglan’s eyes stung instantly. Before he even got a clear look at Li Que’s face, his body’s muscle memory took over as he threw himself into his arms.

 

“Excuse me,” a voice drawled from behind Li Que, amused. “Mr. Jiang, let your defense attorney inspect the crime scene first, hmm?”

 

Jiang Cenglan didn’t move, but Li Que’s arm was already wrapped tight around his waist, dragging him inside. Pei Zi followed close behind and shut the door firmly. But Jiang Cenglan was still clinging to Li Que like he would never let go, face buried in his chest as though he meant to suffocate himself there. Neither man rushed to question him, knowing very well that with his asthma, he couldn’t handle shocks. Before leaving, Li Que had even reminded Pei Zi to bring along the spare inhaler, just in case.

 

Like that day in the vintage car, Li Que stroked his back with infinite patience, steady and gentle, soothing him. When he felt the younger man slowly relax, Li Que ruffled his hair and signaled for him to lift his head.

 

Jiang Cenglan finally drew back from his embrace.

 

Seeing his breathing steady, his eyes rimmed red but no tears spilled, Li Que exhaled in relief.

 

“Li Que.” Jiang Cenglan’s voice was muffled and sheepish. “I hit your ex-husband.”

 

He already knew from Dr. Brown that they’d long since divorced. But hitting someone was still no small matter. What if Li Que thought he had violent tendencies?! Jiang Cenglan was nervous, his eyes darting everywhere. Just minutes ago, he had clung so tightly, but now, guilt kept him from meeting Li Que’s gaze.

 

Li Que, meanwhile, had already given him a once-over: neat clothes, unmarked skin, no bruises, no cuts. He looked perfectly lively. Clearly, in whatever fight Pei Zi had mentioned, his little boyfriend had been the clear victor.

 

No wonder he was only sheepish now, and not aggrieved. If he’d lost the fight, wouldn’t he be bawling in his arms already?

 

The thought nearly made Li Que laugh. He cleared his throat and, eyes warm with amusement, said, “Why are you looking away? Look at me and listen carefully.” Then he continued, word by word, his voice solemn and unwavering: “Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to stand by your side.”

 

So even if he had hit someone, Li Que was there to back him up.

 

By the time Pei Zi finished checking the room and noticed Zhang Ruien was nowhere to be found, he turned to question his roommate, only to freeze in place.

 

Jiang Cenglan was slumped bonelessly against the supermodel’s chest, arms looped around his neck, the two pressed to the wall, kissing like they’d forgotten the world. If anyone looked the aggressor, it was Li Que, but Pei Zi’s roommate clearly didn’t mind. In fact, he was more than enjoying it.

 

Pei Zi: “…”

 

With the spirit of a shameless shipper, he watched for a while. The pair were easy on the eyes, one great beauty, one little beauty, enough to make anyone’s vision sweet. But when Jiang Cenglan’s wandering hand slid sneakily under Li Que’s shirt, Pei Zi finally lost his composure and coughed loudly.

 

The two broke apart like waking from a dream.

 

Jiang Cenglan looked embarrassed, retreating half a step but not far. Pei Zi caught the quick shuffle of his feet and the way his hand instantly sought Li Que’s again. As for Li Que, he only shot Pei Zi a look of reproach, as if blaming him for ruining the mood.

 

Pei Zi suddenly felt maybe he was a bit masochistic. Otherwise, why would he put up with being treated like an intruder by this lovesick pair?! Still, upholding the code of a loyal New York roommate, he stuck to business. “Mr. Jiang, where’s the other party? You didn’t kill him, did you?”

 

Li Que’s gaze was equally serious, his silence implying: If he really did, how should we help him cover it up?

 

Flushing scarlet, Jiang Cenglan snapped, “Of course not!”

 

He then strode quickly to the wardrobe. Pei Zi raised his brows in surprise. You’ve already gotten to the corpse-hiding stage?! he thought, but decided to keep quiet.

 

With a yank, Jiang Cenglan flung open the wardrobe, and a heavy thud shook the floor, easily eighty kilos of rotten deadweight. The unconscious man, deprived of the door’s support, toppled out with brutal force.

 

Pei Zi didn’t need to check if he was alive as Zhang Ruien groaned faintly, his eyes fluttering open. For a long moment, silence reigned as the “victim” blinked in a daze, until his vision slowly cleared.

 

And then he saw them.

 

Richard, his ex-husband.

 

Jiang Cenglan, his ex-lover. The boy who had knocked him out cold.

 

And that brute of his roommate.

 

All three, standing in a line above him, their faces blank and unyielding.

 

Zhang Ruien’s eyes rolled back as he nearly fainted again.

 

Bu Pei Zi, who was quite experienced in brawls, was the first to notice a faint trace of blood seeping through the hem of Zhang Ruien’s shirt, barely visible and concealed beneath his suit jacket. He had just inspected the room and hadn’t found any sharp weapons. Whatever wound lay under Zhang Ruien’s clothes didn’t seem like something Jiang Cenglan could have inflicted, so he quickly exchanged a look with Li Que, who clearly knew the truth of the matter.

 

Li Que gently requested, “Mr. Pei, could I trouble you to help treat his injuries? I’d like to have a few words with Cenglan.”

 

Pei Zi was a sharp man; with Li Que’s attitude made plain, there was no way today’s matter could escalate into a criminal case. On the contrary, Li Que might even end up helping Jiang Cenglan deal with his ex-husband. Therefore, he whistled and agreed, “OK.”

 

After all, someone had to tend to Zhang Ruien’s wounds. If left unattended and he really died, that would be a disaster!

 

There was a standard household medical kit right by the entryway. With his immense strength, Pei Zi slung the half-dead Zhang Ruien over his shoulder and still managed to free a hand to grab the kit. Like that, he carried Zhang Ruien into the bedroom and even thoughtfully shut the door.

 

Now, in the living room, only two remained: the world-weary yet still strikingly handsome supermodel, and the young designer who had pulled an all-nighter without so much as a shadow of dark circles.

 

Jiang Cenglan’s phone was an older-generation iPhone. He was someone who easily lost himself in his own world, especially while drawing. Once in the zone, he could knock things over at any moment, so dropping his phone was commonplace. After he’d broken countless cups while thinking through ideas, Pei Zi had finally lost his temper and replaced all his bowls, cutlery, and cups with stainless steel ones designed for children. As for his phone itself, it was battle-worn and constantly hovering on the edge of collapse. Not only did the battery drain quickly, causing it to die right after Jiang Cenglan’s last call to his roommate, but now, suddenly, it also began vibrating wildly. The war-torn iPhone had miraculously powered back on by itself, frantically alerting its owner to all the missed messages.

 

Jiang Cenglan instinctively reached for the phone, but Li Que stopped him.

 

“No need to check,” he said. “After I got off the plane, I called you at least twenty times.”

 

Likely more.

 

“Oh,” Jiang Cenglan answered, blinking innocently up at him.

 

Li Que met his gaze.

 

Jiang Cenglan thought he should say something, so he leaned forward and very earnestly kissed Li Que on the cheek, like a child leaving a damp little mark on something they liked, with no ulterior motive. Then, very seriously, he said, “I missed you too.”

 

I missed you the way you missed me. I doubted for a moment after everything happened, but then I became even more certain that you must care about me.

 

Li Que’s heart softened to the point of collapse, ready to melt under Jiang Cenglan’s wet, puppy-like gaze. He let out a long sigh and murmured, “Cenglan, don’t look at me with eyes like that.”

 

“Why?” Jiang Cenglan tilted his head, confused.

 

“Because I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you to bed right here.”

 

Jiang Cenglan’s eyes lit up, only to hear Li Que add, “But we can’t. Not here, not even in another room.”

 

So Jiang Cenglan was deeply disappointed.

 

Really disappointed. After all, just last night, when his thoughts had gotten away from him, he’d imagined that if Li Que ever betrayed him, he would just sleep with him and then leave.

 

It was all Zhang Ruien’s fault! Jiang Cenglan thought. If it weren’t for Zhang Ruien’s mess, then this reunion after a “long separation”, though in truth it only lasted a week, would surely have been consummated in bed!

 

That’s how it worked in Desperate Housewives!

 

Li Que couldn’t help laughing at the ever-changing expressions on Jiang Cenglan’s face. At this moment, he was finally at ease: despite the unexpected ordeal, his young lover not only had no barrier toward him, but yearned for him just as much. Therefore, Li Que found it impossible to describe his happiness. He was a deeply emotional man, moved to his core. So he simply pulled Jiang Cenglan into another kiss, this time a lingering, passionate one, giving the Chinese youth in New York a taste of France.

 

Before either of them lost control and let things go further, Li Que ended it hastily, then led the dizzy, kiss-drunk Jiang Cenglan out onto the balcony.

 

It was around seven in the morning. Under a canopy of stratocumulus clouds, the sky was a dull, misty blue. Yet the reddish-orange glow along the distant horizon gave the steel city an air of vitality.

 

New York. The stage of countless love stories.

 

The streetlights below were still on, though the morning rush hour had already begun. Li Que, stepping out, had thoughtfully grabbed a blanket from the wardrobe where Jiang Cenglan had locked up Zhang Ruien. Holding Jiang Cenglan in his arms, he sat in a rocking chair, tore the disinfected tag off the blanket, and wrapped them both up together.

 

For a while, neither spoke.

 

They leaned against each other, pressed close, like two conjoined cats who would die if separated. Jiang Cenglan gazed up at the gray sky. At the two junctions of day and night, the sky always looked the same. For a moment, he felt as though dusk were falling.

 

It was like they had been sitting here for a whole day, a whole lifetime even, from youth to old age.

 

Briefly, he imagined what it would be like to grow old with Li Que: someday, the two of them sitting on the swing in the garden of their Long Island villa (he’d already seen that there was a swing there), watching the sun rise and the moon set. That would be true happiness.

 

So, without the slightest embarrassment, he told Li Que his thoughts.

 

“You’re always honest in the most unexpected places,” Li Que sighed. “And so adorably honest at that.”

 

Jiang Cenglan smiled with pursed lips. He did want to cling to Li Que and flirt sweetly, but the balcony of the suite was long, stretching to the adjacent room, and from there, he faintly heard Zhang Ruien’s muffled groans of pain.

 

In the end, Li Que was right. This wasn’t the place for flirting.

 

“Stop being so charming already!” Jiang Cenglan muttered in complaint, then grew serious. “Let me tell you about what happened last night. To keep my cute image in your eyes intact, I have to explain myself.” Jiang Cenglan then asked Li Que, “Will you be a good listener? Patiently listen to me, just like the first time we met, without interrupting until I’ve finished?”

 

“I will,” Li Que promised.

 

After thinking for a moment, Jiang Cenglan began his story from yesterday morning, when he’d woken up and seen his scandal on the Internet. He spoke frankly about his feelings, shared his anxieties and doubts, described how he’d spent his day, and explained how Zhang Ruien had suddenly shown up at night, only to be knocked out cold by Pei Zi’s kick.

 

“…He’s way too fragile. Really. Pei Zi fights well, but he’s never knocked someone out with a single kick before.”

 

“Mm… I’ll refrain from commenting on that for now.”

 

Jiang Cenglan then told him honestly about his transaction with Zhang Ruien. At that point, Li Que’s brows furrowed deeply. He wanted to interrupt several times, but he restrained himself with great courtesy.

 

Jiang Cenglan continued: “The fight was honestly an accident. Last night, on a whim, I learned from you and snapped at him. He immediately cowered and apologized. But when we went in to sign the papers, I discovered he’d even plagiarized the design draft for the Christmas charity gala! I’d only just sketched a rough idea a few days ago, and hadn’t even refined it yet. Anyway, my emotions got the better of me in that moment.” He paused, then lowered his voice. “I really only punched him a few times. It’s just that he can’t take a beating! He didn’t even fight back before he went completely limp. Scared the hell out of me!”

 

That was why he’d frantically called Pei Zi for legal help, and, in a moment of madness, stuffed Zhang Ruien into the wardrobe.

 

At this, Li Que burst out laughing. “Jiang Cenglan…”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Jiang Cenglan, male, twenty-three years old. In 2025, at his very first free-fight match in America, he won the championship.”

 

Jiang Cenglan froze for a few seconds, then his face flushed bright red. Furious with embarrassment, he reached to strangle Li Que’s neck.

 

“You! You always say your Chinese isn’t that good, that you can’t find the right words, but now you even know memes?!”

 

Flailing dramatically and already pressed so close to him, Jiang Cenglan’s thrashing sent the rocking chair swaying. But his show of arrogance instantly collapsed when Li Que shifted his body against him.

 

“Alright, I’ll stop teasing. You stop squirming, too,” Li Que said. “You’re making me feel something, and this isn’t the place.”

 

“But you laughed at me first!”

 

“My fault. But you have to take responsibility too! I was overwhelmed by your cuteness.”

 

Jiang Cenglan huffed twice, but he actually accepted this division of blame quite happily.

 

Li Que then asked, “I’m curious, what made you think of imitating me?”

 

Recalling his performance from last night, worthy of an Oscar, Jiang Cenglan thought for a moment as he explained: “I’d already felt something was off. I realized that the Ryan I remembered and the Ryan you described didn’t match at all. But… I often sensed something familiar in him that actually came from you…”

 

“And then?” Li Que gently guided him toward saying something crucial. Something Li Que had held back, but which had to come from Jiang Cenglan’s own mouth.

 

Jiang Cenglan glanced at him and voiced his suspicion: “I guess… that for the two years I dated him, he was copying you in front of me.”

 

Exactly right.

 

Li Que gazed at him tenderly, stroking his face, affirming his guess. “Yes. All along, he was imitating me. So when you thought you loved him, you didn’t truly love him. What you loved was just the shadow of my soul reflected in him.”

 

You loved me. You always did. You were meant to.

 

“So that’s why, when I saw through his disguise and mimicked your expression, he got scared to death?”

 

Li Que nodded, tapped the tip of Jiang Cenglan’s nose with his finger, and praised his cleverness.

 

“What am I like, then?”

 

“Ah, it’s hard to describe… very imposing, kind of like a Dom…”

 

As soon as he said it, Jiang Cenglan blushed crimson again.

 

Clearly, Li Que had thought of the same thing. His hand slipped lower beneath the blanket, lightly wrapping around something still soft.

 

The beautiful man bit his lip, eyes full of reproach despite having made the first move. But then, just as Jiang Cenglan tried to chase the touch, he withdrew.

 

“You’re doing it again! You’re doing it again!” Jiang Cenglan cried, driven half-mad with frustration.

 

“Can’t let you have your way so easily.” Li Que winked, thoroughly satisfied with his mischief, and added lightly:

 

“Because last time, you failed to say thank you.”

 

…………………………