Lying on the grass, Zhu Ran recalled his earlier curses at Huo Boyan and felt guilty. Luckily, Huo Boyan didn’t know. With that, Zhu Ran felt justified and magnanimously retracted his insults.
When the third meteor streaked by, Zhu Ran’s phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, saw the caller ID, silenced it, and put it back.
Huo Boyan: “Answer it. It’s fine with me.”
Zhu Ran shook his head firmly. “No. Nothing important.”
“Buzz—”
A second call came. Zhu Ran ignored it.
On the third, he shut off the phone.
Another meteor passed, but Zhu Ran missed it. He seemed to lose interest in the world, hugging his knees on the grass, withdrawn.
“Trouble with your parents?” Huo Boyan asked suddenly. “Sorry, I glimpsed the caller ID earlier.”
Zhu Ran expressionless, lifted his eyelids. “What, does Mr. Huo want to play therapist now?”
Huo Boyan shook his head calmly. “Just noticed you’re not happy.”
“I’m not.” Zhu Ran’s tone was icy.
“If you want, you can talk to me.” Huo Boyan’s voice was gentle, persuasively magical. “I’m older, with more experience. Maybe I can offer some advice.”
Zhu Ran stayed silent. After over a minute, he asked abruptly, “Do you know Huo Junlin likes guys?”
Huo Boyan: “I know. So?”
Zhu Ran was stunned by his calm. “You don’t care?”
“Why should I?” Huo Boyan said matter-of-factly. “If I meddled in everyone he likes, what point is there in his life?”
Zhu Ran fell quiet. An unknown bird called from the woods behind—over and over, irritatingly.
People are all different. Even if complaints sounded the same, only he knew the taste.
Zhu Ran suddenly envied Huo Junlin, feeling inexplicably wronged. Why could others have such open-minded elders? Why not him?
The night was too dark for Huo Boyan to see Zhu Ran’s face, but he sensed the low mood in the silence. He reached out, ruffled Zhu Ran’s hair. “I don’t know your issues, but the most important thing is what you want. Others’ opinions don’t matter—even parents’. Only you decide your fate. If you think it’s right, go for it boldly.”
Zhu Ran was silent longer, staring at the sky. When another meteor passed, he finally lowered his eyes and murmured a soft “mm.”
They lay on the grass for a long time until dawn broke, the Milky Way fading.
Huo Boyan stood. “Let’s go. Dawn’s coming.”
Zhu Ran rose from the ground but knelt again, unsteady.
Huo Boyan caught him. “You okay?”
Zhu Ran gripped his arm, quiet for ten seconds, then lied clumsily, “Not great. My legs… they’re numb.”
Huo Boyan crouched before him. “I’ll carry you.”
Dim light outlined Huo Boyan’s silhouette. He bowed slightly, back turned in near-submissive posture. Zhu Ran noticed his broad shoulders, substantial arms—he yearned to be held, lifted by them.
Zhu Ran inhaled deeply, draped his arms over Huo Boyan’s shoulders. As expected, strong hands steadied him securely.
In that dawning light, Zhu Ran slyly disguised himself, stealing an experience not truly his.
They left before full dawn, returning to the bustling city.
Exhausted after the all-nighter, Zhu Ran dozed off in the car’s gentle sway.
Day’s events replayed in his mind: pool, horseback, bar, starry grassland, Huo Boyan pinning him down, whispering “shh”…
Shh—
Zhu Ran jolted awake to pitch black.
What’s this?
He blinked. A door appeared in the darkness. Too familiar—he pushed it open without thinking.
Behind it, a three- or four-year-old boy huddled in bed, arms hugged tight, sobbing in the dark covers.
He looked terrified, trembling as he said, “Mom and Dad are busy. I have to be brave. I can sleep alone.”
Zhu Ran approached to speak, but the scene shifted. The boy laughed suddenly—a puppy now in his covers.
Hugging it happily, the boy said, “Kele’s not scared. From now on, you have me. I’ll protect you. We’ll sleep together.”
The door burst open. Rough hands snatched the puppy from the boy.
“Who let you keep a dog in secret?” a man with a dark silhouette barked. “Hiding it in bed? Your mom would be furious!”
“It’s not dirty. I just bathed Kele,” the boy pleaded, shielding it. “Dad, please don’t take Kele. I can care for it myself—no trouble. Kele’s great. It sleeps with me. You’re never home… I’m so scared alone…”
Kele vanished anyway. The boy slept alone, clutching a dog plush, afraid to turn off the light.
“Click—”
A hand from the door switched it off.
“Click—”
“Click—”
“Click—”
Every night after, the nightlight was ruthlessly extinguished.
The boy dared not sleep with lights on. He burrowed under covers, sensing ghosts lurking everywhere.
One of them lifted his blanket and angrily said, “Cry, cry, cry, all you do is cry. How are you like a little girl? Boys aren’t allowed to cry and whimper; they have to be brave and become real men!”
Smack—
Zhu Ran was startled awake by a crisp sound. He looked up to find himself draped over the lap of a strange man. In disbelief, he twisted his head around, but before he could make out the man’s face, a large hand pressed him back down.
The man was dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, with Zhu Ran sprawled across his lap.
It didn’t hurt much, but it was utterly humiliating.
Just as Zhu Ran was about to protest, the man wrapped an arm around his waist and turned him, pulling him into an embrace.
Zhu Ran froze on the spot, nearly forgetting to breathe.
The man’s shoulders were broad, his arms strong and powerful. With just one hand, he supported Zhu Ran’s entire body. Then, with the other hand, he stroked Zhu Ran’s head, his palm sliding down along his spine before pausing at the spot he’d smacked red. Patiently and tirelessly, he soothed it.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s all over.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”
“It’s okay. Stop crying. Be good.”
The man’s voice was low and mellow, his attitude intimate, as if he were comforting someone else in Zhu Ran’s place.
A cuckoo occupying a magpie’s nest.
The phrase popped into Zhu Ran’s mind, yet he felt a powerful sense of attachment and comfort. He reached out, wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, and buried his entire face in that warm chest. Finally, he had found a body he could embrace without fear.
