Jiang Cenglan had no idea how things had ended up like that.
He stood in the minimalist, Zen-style guest bathroom, rinsing his mouth with a disposable paper cup. When he looked in the mirror and saw the flush on his cheeks, he felt for a moment as if the world had become unreal.
Li Que had told him he was addicted to sex.
But he said it in such a serious tone, explaining that it was simply the medical term for a certain condition.
And just now, Jiang Cenglan…
As if possessed, he had actually offered his services!
Even more absurdly, Li Que had agreed, even though both of them fully knew that Jiang Cenglan was no kind of doctor. His lashes lowered as he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, trying to remember the taste.
No one could blame him for wondering what exactly Li Que’s role had been in his previous marriage. After all, he was a mixed-race child, with certain… Umm.. Inherent advantages.
Not to mention his body proportions, which were entirely on another level.
Jiang Cenglan had clearly been bewitched by the goddess before him. However, he still was, in truth, nothing more than an unqualified and unprepared doctor. Once he’d been given the green light and finally summoned the nerve to actually treat his patient, his movements had been clumsy to the point of comedy, so embarrassed that he wanted to bury himself in Li Que’s pants.
And Li Que had laughed. Then, he very gently cupped Jiang Cenglan’s chin and patiently guided him on how to move more skillfully…
Considering Jiang Cenglan’s asthma, Li Que had barely let himself move. And just before finishing, like a true gentleman, he had pulled Jiang Cenglan away, asking: “Do you want me to help you?”
Jiang Cenglan shook his head so fast it was almost violent.
So Li Que had offered kindly: “The bathroom’s on the right. Go rinse your mouth.”
As if, right?!
How could he even be nearly bold enough to start rewarding himself in Li Que’s house?!
In the end, Jiang Cenglan simply splashed his face with cold water, then leaned against the sink, zoning out until all the heat had drained from his skin. Only then did he slowly, and very reluctantly, return to the living room.
There, the television was on. Jiang Cenglan glanced at the screen, only to see that it was still… The 8th season of Desperate Housewives.
Jiang Cenglan: “…”
Something about everything felt extremely off, though he couldn’t quite say what…
And yet, before he could figure it out, the man lounging lazily on the couch called him by his nickname, gently beckoning him over. Jiang Cenglan crept over, awkward and unsure, only to be pulled into a fluffy blanket.
Li Que had turned the AC to its lowest setting, then grabbed a handmade throw. When he wrapped the doll-like Jiang Cenglan into his arms and their skin made contact, he let out a contented sigh.
“You look just like a plush toy, are you really a designer?” Li Que asked.
Under the blanket, Jiang Cenglan was practically being hugged from behind, like a human-sized pillow. As for Li Que, he lounged against him, fully draped over his body.
And when he spoke, his lips brushed right by Jiang Cenglan’s ear.
Jiang Cenglan’s face flared red again, and all that time he’d spent cooling down was instantly wasted.
“Thank you…” he said reflexively, mistaking the comment for a compliment on his looks.
A low, impossibly attractive laugh sounded in his ear, one of those voices that could make someone pregnant just by listening.
“I am a designer,” Jiang Cenglan scrambled to explain, “I’m studying at SVA[mfn]New York School of Visual Arts[/mfn]—”
“Shhh.” A single finger pressed to his lips and Li Que said: “I know all about you. Xiao Yun, now’s not the time to talk about that.”
“Oh…”
But then, this late at night, if they weren’t talking about that, what were they supposed to talk about?! Keep doing what they were just doing?!
Jiang Cenglan’s freshly cooled brain quickly turned back to mush under the man’s teasing.
Under the blanket, Li Que’s long, elegant fingers were still lightly stroking the exposed skin on Jiang Cenglan’s body in slow, lingering touches that carried just enough suggestion to short-circuit what little brainpower he had left.
Just as Jiang Cenglan was thinking screw it, who cares what we are to each other, this atmosphere is enough, let’s just do it already—
Li Que suddenly stretched, one arm emerging from under the blanket to reach for the TV remote, turning the volume up a little.
Jiang Cenglan: “…”
Leisurely, Li Que continued: “Jiang Cenglan, before we met, for a very long time, I was living just like that, in the state of a desperate widow.”
It took Jiang Cenglan a moment to realize he’d said widow, not housewife.
His mind was still stuck on those teasing touches and couldn’t understand why the conversation had veered so suddenly toward American TV dramas. However, he soon heard Li Que continue: “Last time we met, I learned your story. But for certain reasons, I kept mine from you. Want to hear about my marriage?”
Jiang Cenglan turned to look at him.
The man, who just moments ago had been so indulgently satisfied, now wore a look of deep exhaustion. He stared at Jiang Cenglan, his eyes full of turbulent emotion that no one could decipher.
Exhaustion had no place on such a beautiful face…
…So Jiang Cenglan nodded, saying: “Yeah. I want to know.”
…………………….
New York was a city that never slept, its glittering lights making the nights more vibrant than the days.
Jiang Cenglan was just one of the countless dreamers drawn to this place. And now, here he was in the penthouse of the Steinway Tower[mfn]111 West 57th Street, also known as Steinway Tower, is a supertall residential skyscraper in the Midtown Manhattan neighborhood of New York City, New York, U.S. The main portion of the building is an 84-story, 1,428-foot (435-meter) tower designed by SHoP Architects and completed in 2021. Preserved at the base is the 16-story Steinway Building (also Steinway Hall), a former Steinway & Sons store designed by Warren andWetmore and completed in 1925, which originally carried the address 111 West 57th Street. 111 West 57th Street contains 59 luxury condominiums: 14 in Steinway Hall and 45 in the tower[/mfn], a place he could never afford in a lifetime… Listening to the man of his dreams pour out the story of a failed marriage.
A marriage, that he had to admit, had partly failed because of him.
Li Que had already finished off most of the 1945 Château Mouton Rothschild[mfn]Château Mouton Rothschild is a wine estate located in the village of Pauillac in the Médoc region, 50 km (30 mi) north-west of the city of Bordeaux, France. One bottle goes for about 16k USD[/mfn] by himself. Maybe it was the alcohol that loosened his tongue, but his words came in fits and starts as he spoke of the past between him and Zhang Ruien.
Zhang Ruien’s rise, seen from Li Que’s perspective, was a very different story.
At first, Zhang Ruien was no different from any other Chinese youth chasing dreams in America. What set him apart was that he’d been lucky. Lucky enough to meet Li Que at the peak of his youth and beauty, when Li Que still believed in love.
“…I was just stupid,” Li Que said. “I fell for that hard-working, honest façade of his. His designs weren’t even that special, and I still threw heaps of money at him, propped him up until he had a name in the fashion world…”
“…I’ve always been a very decisive person. I thought love would be enough to make anything work, so I could tolerate a lot of his flaws. What I didn’t expect was that he’d actually have the guts to cheat on me.”
“And the plagiarism… No, it wasn’t even plagiarism. It was outright theft. That’s something I couldn’t forgive.”
Maybe it was the wine talking, but by the end, Li Que’s thoughts were no longer entirely coherent. Still, it was enough for Jiang Cenglan to piece together the seven years they’d spent together.
What puzzled Jiang Cenglan, though, was the portrait Li Que painted of his husband.
In Li Que’s version, Zhang Ruien was a quiet, simple man. Hardworking, yes, but also awkward, untalented, and honest to a fault.
That… Didn’t sound like the Zhang Ruien Jiang Cenglan knew at all!
His Zhang Ruien was graceful. Romantic. Charming. Elegant and magnetic, in every way.
In fact… In fact…
In fact, he reminded him of the beautiful, tipsy man now sitting beside him.
A chill swept through Jiang Cenglan’s heart as he felt he was starting to understand something.
But before he could ask, Li Que suddenly said: “He never touched you, did he? I know he didn’t…”
“…Because he’s so useless that he can’t even get it up…”
“…So then, Xiao Yun… Do you want to try it with me?”
