When the tea was finished, Zhu Jingru had no intention of refilling it. Stopping at the right moment felt just right. He stood up, preparing to escort his guest to the garden entrance downstairs.
Halfway there, a drunken patron stumbled over to flirt, clearly targeting Zhu Jingru. The man’s slurred words were hard to make out amid the relentless noise of the DJ and blaring speakers. Bai Qinglin couldn’t catch the full sentence, only picking up a few words.
“Upstairs” and “lick.”
Zhu Jingru pushed the drunkard back into the dance floor with a single shove, then looked up at Bai Qinglin, his expression somewhat innocent. “Sorry, that was embarrassing.”
“It’s fine,” Bai Qinglin replied, standing beside Zhu Jingru. His upright and stern demeanor made it clear he wasn’t one for casual games. He lowered his gaze, frowning slightly as he met Zhu Jingru’s eyes for a few seconds. Figuring the noise drowned out his voice, he leaned in, controlling the distance, and spoke near Zhu Jingru’s ear. “No need to see me out. It’s just a few steps. Go back.”
“Alright, Brother Bai, take care,” Zhu Jingru said, frozen in place. He felt the man’s warm breath brush past his ear, grazing the skin near his neck, sending a dense wave of tingling sensations through him. His heartbeat was unfairly intense.
Bai Qinglin had already left.
Zhu Jingru stood there dumbly, lifting a hand to touch his ear. He blinked, his thoughts veering to the worst-case scenario. What if Bai Qinglin was straight?
Bai Qinglin pushed open the glass door and scanned his surroundings. The garden was filled with various flowers. A sunflower stood out strikingly, while others bloomed in white, pink, and purple, all thriving together. Yet none were as captivating as the tattoo on Zhu Jingru’s wrist.
The dark red pattern was intricately designed, cleverly encircling the wrist with a slightly wicked charm. As for the back, waist, chest, and collarbone he’d seen… Bai Qinglin came from a traditional family where sex education was practically taboo. He wasn’t embarrassed, but he was accustomed to maintaining a proper distance from others.
Today was the first time he’d unintentionally seen a stranger’s bare body, even if it was only the upper half.
Bai Qinglin stared blankly at the flowers, inexplicably recalling the man who had flirted with Zhu Jingru. The suggestive posture and expression were far from proper. What “upstairs” and “lick” might form in a sentence didn’t matter.
One thing was certain.
Zhu Jingru had rejected the stranger with a smile, so perhaps Bai Qinglin had misjudged him.
Back at his apartment, Bai Qinglin took a hot shower as usual, then sat upright on the sofa watching the news. His dark pupils were calm as a still well, and he held a thermos cup motionlessly.
He was fifteen minutes late, missing much of the news rerun, all because of a cup of hot milk. By chance, his phone screen lit up with a new text message.
“Brother Bai, are you home?”
Zhu Jingru was on his balcony, counting ginkgo leaves as they fell. Heaven knows how many had dropped. Asking Tong Yin about sexual orientation wasn’t an option, as the young woman likely knew little on the matter.
The message he sent, unsurprisingly, went unanswered.
Zhu Jingru’s hand hung by his leg. He racked his brain but couldn’t come to any clear conclusion. For the first time, something left him at a loss.
Yet, sometimes, unintended actions yield unexpected results.
At 9:59 p.m., a previously rejected WeChat friend request suddenly showed as accepted.
Bai Qinglin sent the first message: [No need for texting fees.]
Zhu Jingru stared for a few seconds, caught off guard by the simple sentence. It took him a moment to grasp its meaning. Then, like a fox that had successfully sneaked a treat, the frustration in his chest dissipated.
He opened Bai Qinglin’s WeChat Moments. As expected, it was empty. The finger holding a cigarette still wore that silver ring.
Zhu Jingru quickly hid his overly suggestive videos, photos showing his collarbone and back, and any improper comments, leaving only his earlier, more respectable achievements. His Moments now barely resembled those of a normal person.
Only then did Zhu Jingru leisurely reply: [Good night, Brother Bai. See you tomorrow.]
He stared at his phone’s lock screen for a long time, a determined smile creeping across his face.
Slow and steady, like boiling a frog in warm water. The one who gets impatient first is the fool.
