92
Qi Wei was silent for a moment.
He was sure there had been nothing wrong with what he just said, but Qi Zhao was truly… too perceptive, too intelligent.
He could only sigh softly. “Yes.”
After admitting it, he immediately added, “But I wasn’t injured. I already knew Yang Shou and Ming Jingsong at the time, and since I had differentiated into a super S-rank, and my relationship with the Qi family was complicated, Ming Jingsong gave me a device for protection. The moment they approached me, Yang Shou and the others were alerted and immediately came to my rescue.”
“So Ah Zhao, nothing happened to me.”
Qi Zhao stared at him. “But you said they knew you were strong.”
Qi Wei sighed inwardly, thinking that he couldn’t relax even slightly when talking to Qi Zhao, a single wrong word could expose him. “I did fight them, but I wasn’t injured. You can ask Yang Shou, they arrived when I had already taken down most of them.”
Qi Zhao continued to stare at him. “Qi Wei, I’m also a man, I know how it is between brothers, it’s not difficult to lie.”
Qi Wei paused. “…”
He couldn’t do anything but lower his head obediently. “Then Officer Qi, what’s your verdict?”
Qi Zhao, seeing his demeanor, chuckled helplessly. “What can I do with you?”
He said, “I sentence you to go home and make me a soufflé.”
“Yes, sir.”
Qi Wei breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as he kissed Qi Zhao. “Shall we go home now?”
“Since we’re already out,” Qi Zhao said, “I haven’t been out for a while, let’s walk around.”
So Qi Wei accompanied Qi Zhao to Old Street.
It was still cold today, but it wasn’t snowing anymore. The residents had cleared the snow from the streets, piling it up on the sides, but the ground was still a little slippery, so Qi Wei held Qi Zhao’s hand tightly, afraid he might fall.
Old Street wasn’t as modern as the new district. There were all sorts of shops here, a mix of traditional and modern, like a cultural and creative street, but the prices weren’t exorbitant. More importantly, the shop owners all owned their properties and opened their shops whenever they felt like it.
Qi Zhao used to enjoy coming here when he was still in Kyoto, especially on nice days, when the food stalls were open, filling the air with tantalizing aromas.
There weren’t many food stalls open today, but there was a milk tea shop, its sweet fragrance reaching them even before they reached the entrance.
Qi Wei knew that Qi Zhao, like many young people, enjoyed these sweet treats, so he asked, “Want some?”
Qi Zhao nodded, and the two men entered the small shop, Qi Wei even bending down slightly to avoid hitting his head on the low doorway.
The wind chimes on the door jingled softly. Qi Zhao, seeing the walls covered in letters and sticky notes, smiled. “They still have this.”
Qi Wei looked down at him, and Qi Zhao, assuming he didn’t know, explained, “I used to come here often with Xu Chenzhou and the others during school breaks.”
Qi Zhao continued, “Back then, whenever we came here for milk tea and snacks, we would write and draw on the walls. Xu Chenzhou and the others loved writing things like ‘Death to [subject]’ But we didn’t use sticky notes back then; we wrote directly on the walls, even standing on chairs to reach the higher spots.”
As they were talking, the shop owner came out from the kitchen. “You sound like a regular, young man. That was over a decade ago.”
He smiled at Qi Zhao. “The walls were full, so I didn’t repaint them, just started using sticky notes. You guys are lucky. We regularly clear out the sticky notes, but not the writing on the walls. See if you can still find what you wrote; you might be able to find it if you search.”
He looked at Qi Wei and Qi Zhao, recognizing them from the recent news, their striking appearances hard to miss.
But he didn’t say anything more, just asked, “What would you like to drink?”
“What do you want?”
Qi Zhao turned to Qi Wei. “Do you need a recommendation?”
Qi Wei lowered his voice. “The same as you.”
“Okay.” Qi Zhao turned to the shop owner. “Two original milk teas, please.”
After paying, Qi Zhao led Qi Wei to one of the walls. “I remember secretly writing something here, but I can’t remember what.”
He said, “I just remember it was a secret.”
Qi Zhao only vaguely remembered the location, not the exact spot.
But Qi Wei, standing beside him, reached out and lifted a few sticky notes, revealing the words underneath. “Here it is.”
Qi Zhao froze.
He looked at the writing—
[So tired, I want to leave home.]
He remembered now. It was when Qi Wense was starting to become more sensible, and Qi Mu and Jiang Qingyue, busy with the company, had asked him to look after his younger brother.
But Qi Wense at the time was quite the little devil, making Qi Zhao’s head spin. He had to study and take care of a child, he was exhausted.
And it was also around that time that he vaguely realized he had no place in this family.
Because he had told Qi Mu and Jiang Qingyue about his studies, but Qi Mu had simply said, “Just help look after your brother, it’s not a big deal.”
…He didn’t take his words, his needs, seriously.
Qi Zhao had always been sensitive, but he hadn’t realized it at the time, so his emotions were bottled up, with no outlet for release.
Even his tired complaints were hidden, scribbled secretly when no one was looking. He had even forgotten about it.
But what surprised Qi Zhao was that there was another sentence written beneath his, as if in response—
[Then would you be willing to come with me?]
Qi Zhao froze, then, as if realizing something, looked at Qi Wei incredulously.
His fingertip traced the words, momentarily speechless.
Qi Wei turned to look at him, as if knowing what he was going to ask, and said slowly, “I wrote that.”
What Qi Zhao had forgotten, Qi Wei remembered.
He remembered his desire to leave the Qi family, the injustice he had suffered. That’s why he couldn’t easily forgive them, not just because they had sent his beloved abroad, not just because Qi Wense coveted his partner, but also because of everything Qi Zhao had endured.
Qi Zhao stared at Qi Wei, his first reaction not questioning how Qi Wei knew about this place, or how he knew he had written those words, but rather, “…You’ve always been watching me.”
His frustrations, his loneliness, his joys and happiness, all witnessed by Qi Wei.
He had guessed that Qi Wei had been paying attention to him, even before he gained power.
But Qi Zhao hadn’t imagined that Qi Wei had also noticed such small details of his life, always following him closely, like a shadow.
“Yes,” Qi Wei lowered his voice, “Ah Zhao, I told you, I love you.”
So he couldn’t take his eyes off him.
Qi Zhao didn’t speak for a moment, and Qi Wei, after a pause, moved his lips.
The words “Do you hate it?” were about to come out when Qi Zhao suddenly hugged him.
Qi Zhao wasn’t comfortable with public displays of affection; Qi Wei had always known this.
Even when he wanted to kiss Qi Zhao, he had to be quick, a fleeting touch, and in this small shop, with the owner about to come out with their milk tea… Qi Zhao would only be comfortable with holding hands.
But now, Qi Zhao was hugging him, even leaning against him, his voice slightly muffled. “Qi Wei.”
He whispered, “Thank you.”
Although those days seemed like a distant, blurry memory now, knowing that his current lover had been there for him all along, unseen, brought a strange sense of wonder.
As if his memories now had another person in them, accompanying him.
They couldn’t communicate, he couldn’t see him, but he had left his mark everywhere.
Qi Zhao couldn’t help but ask, “Then… have you seen me race before?”
He was referring to the mountain motorcycle races, not exactly official, but he had participated in them several times.
Qi Wei nodded. “Yes. Qi Yuanyu and the others didn’t care back then; they even hoped I would become obsessed with these things.”
Because in their eyes, it was a waste of time, a distraction from his studies and his future.
Qi Wei placed his hand on the back of Qi Zhao’s head and said slowly, “I still remember that competition in the neighboring city, that dangerous curve on the mountain. Many racers slowed down, but you accelerated.”
He recalled Qi Zhao’s image on the blurry screen, his breath hitching slightly. “You were so cool, but I was so worried.”
Not just him; no one in the audience had dared to breathe, as if their breaths would affect the wind, causing Qi Zhao to lose control and fall.
Qi Zhao, hearing his words, remembered the incident and smiled. “…I wasn’t thinking much at the time, just that if others couldn’t do it, it didn’t mean I couldn’t.”
He was always like this; Qi Wei knew.
That’s why Qi Wei felt that Qi Zhao was a light he couldn’t touch.
He was too dazzling.
Qi Zhao released Qi Wei and looked up at him. “If it were now, I wouldn’t dare be so reckless.”
Qi Wei raised an eyebrow slightly. “Why?”
Qi Zhao smiled. “I’m afraid you’ll be worried and heartbroken if I get injured or something.”
Heartache was a painful emotion.
A suffocating tightness in the chest, a sense of helplessness, not knowing what to say, wanting to take away the other person’s pain, but unable to.
Qi Wei paused.
He couldn’t help but tighten his grip on Qi Zhao’s hand. “Ah Zhao.”
He lowered his head slightly, restraining himself from kissing him. “You’re playing dirty.”
Qi Wei accused him, “You’re deliberately teasing me in public.”
He couldn’t kiss him properly in public.
Qi Zhao’s smile deepened, the shadows of his past fading away completely. He leaned in and kissed Qi Wei lightly on the lips. “This is fine.”
Very good.
Qi Wei’s grip tightened, his desire intensifying.
