She didn’t let Li Ran get in the water and left, never returning.
Not for the money.
That moment underwater, limbs thrashing uncontrollably—the coach’s unavoidable contact when pulling her up. Why grab chest and butt when arms, legs, or even hair like a drowning ghost would do to get her to shore and breathe?
Those spots had ropes for easy pulling? Easier than civil service exams?
It was life-or-death; he hadn’t even called her arrogant for nearly causing a fatality and huge trouble for the pool. Yet she fixated on those details.
And she did.
Whether it was her own discomfort with such contact or her measuring the gentleman by the petty standards of a mere woman, Bai Qingqing had great confidence in her son’s appearance—and this wasn’t just a doting mother’s bias. Bai Qingqing also harbored a “prepare for the worst” malice toward the perverts in this world; she didn’t dare take any gambles.
When Li Ran was little, there was a period when both Bai Qingqing and Li Ang were so busy their feet barely touched the ground, and no one took him to get a haircut.
By the time his hair was long enough to tie into a little tuft on top of his head or hang down to cover his neck, the features on that face had perfectly blended together. They already made his gender ambiguous to begin with, and with longer hair, he looked even more like a little girl who had secretly permed her hair out of extreme vanity.
He had been pinched on the cheeks by old men, had his arms squeezed, his legs groped… Bai Qingqing spotted it in time and smashed her Nokia phone down on them like a brick.
Learning to swim, that grand endeavor, never got off the ground under Bai Qingqing’s “overprotection.”
Now, Li Ran felt the rippling buoyancy in the water and couldn’t stand up at all.
The water was over a meter deep, but holding onto the pool edge and standing straight, it wouldn’t reach past his chest. Before going in, that sliver of confidence—seemingly inherited from Bai Qingqing’s DNA—had swelled a bit.
It looked like such a simple thing; conquering it surely wouldn’t be too hard.
After getting in, he could manage the first two steps, wobbling forward just like a baby learning to toddle. Chi Mo waited for him in the center of the pool; if he reached out and patted him a couple times as he approached, he’d look just like a family elder eagerly awaiting a child to stumble into his arms after mastering walking.
But on the last two steps, Li Ran faltered.
His arms floated on the surface, his body leaned forward, and his legs pedaled beneath like he was riding a bike in mid-air, flailing with every step.
When Chi Mo swam toward him, stirring up waves around them, it was more stimulation than Li Ran could handle. He immediately toppled backward as if swept off his feet, his soles no longer touching the bottom.
“Hey—Bro…!”
Chi Mo scooped him up in one arm.
The arm clamped around Li Ran’s waist like an iron band—so narrow at that spot. Li Ran paled in shock and let out a low cry of doom, scrambling to cling to Chi Mo’s neck and hug tight, refusing to let go.
“Don’t tense up. The water’s not deep.” Chi Mo patted the small of Li Ran’s back, then loosened his arm just enough to maintain a safe distance underwater. He had Li Ran give him his hand, then gripped it tight—though he probably would’ve done so regardless of permission. “Come on, follow me and walk slowly. That’s it. Good job. I’ll teach you how to find your balance in the water, go with the buoyancy—don’t fight it.”
Theory was one thing; actually getting in the water was another. With practice, Li Ran picked it up quickly, surprising even himself.
He’d always thought he was dumb.
In half an hour, Li Ran had mastered doggy paddle. He didn’t care if it looked good; mastering it gave him a sense of accomplishment.
“Drink some water.” After getting out, Chi Mo handed him a bottle of electrolyte water—lychee flavor.
Both had wide towels draped over their shoulders as they sat on the edge. Chi Mo kept his eyes straight ahead, unscrewed the cap, and passed the water while staring at the still-rippling pool.
But that pale, delicate leg beside him had a fatal allure, squeezing his peripheral vision until he saw nothing else. Chi Mo downed a whole bottle in one go, his Adam’s apple bobbing sharply.
Li Ran’s eyes, however, weren’t so well-behaved.
From the moment Chi Mo changed into swim trunks, got in, and climbed out, he’d been sneaking peeks.
It wasn’t lust; it was curiosity.
He didn’t know terms like golden ratio or inverted triangle build, but he could tell Chi Mo’s body had this explosive sense of power. Enviable.
It was like one of Chi Mo’s arms could pin him down and leave him immobile.
And then there was… that area…
The tight swim trunks.
The gap between him and Chi Mo was just so vast.
When had such a thought ever crossed the mind of someone as pure and honest as Li Ran? He felt utterly shocked by it and immediately shifted his gaze to other scenery, admiring the patterns in the pool water.
Li Ran didn’t have many close friends; he even went to the bathroom alone, too shy.
He had no experience with the utterly unrestrained camaraderie between guys—comparing sizes was normal, mocking each other was daily routine, even lining up at the urinals to see who could pee farther or longer, all ways to prove whose kidneys were stronger.
Unlike him, where even stealing a glance at Chi Mo made him feel like his mind was dirty.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t wearing swim trunks.
But Chi Mo’s looked like it could poke someone to death…
“Wanna keep learning?” Chi Mo asked.
Li Ran lowered his eyes. “Kinda tired.”
“Mm, we’re hiking tomorrow—better save your energy.” He pulled Li Ran to his feet and used the towel to dry his hair.
Li Ran stood obediently. Face-to-face wasn’t great; one drop of his eyelids and he could see it, and the more he compared, the more disheartened he felt. Same guys…
…Why make it hard on each other, man?
They returned to their room.
Li Ran didn’t remember much from his childhood; he couldn’t recall if Li Ang had ever shared a room with him when caring for him. As far back as his clear memories went, he’d always slept alone, never with anyone else.
Li Ran thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
He hadn’t thought much when signing up to room with Chi Mo—actually, he hadn’t thought about it at all.
Save money, and they were both straight guys.
The room was spacious; the area around the beds felt like a living room, with a walkway between the two beds, decorated in warm tones.
After washing up, they each got into their own bed and covered up. Li Ran clutched the edge of his blanket, lying ramrod straight, staring at the ceiling.
…And fell asleep.
About five kilometers from the manor was a mountain, not too high at 1,000 meters elevation.
Everyone loved climbing it—no cable car, rugged paths, up the east side and down the west, moderate difficulty.
At a normal pace, it took five or six hours, enjoying the views the whole way, no work or worries in mind, just the hike.
No blazing sun that day; it was overcast but not dim. A breeze brought cool threads of mountain air, refreshing the soul.
The group didn’t stick together; no one waited for anyone, like a race.
Li Ran’s lifetime exercise amounted to morning bike rides to school, sprinting 100 meters back to class, the daily noon radio calisthenics, and PE running.
He didn’t play basketball or run marathons, didn’t hang with the guys, so any faint muscles came from low body fat—slim, not trained.
At the mountain base, Li Ran didn’t show it, but inside he was thrilled to the point of floating.
The novelty of trying something new filled him with energy. He followed the group, no prep, no plans.
He’d heard 1,000 meters elevation was like a one-kilometer flat walk—twenty minutes tops. Li Ran figured the whole mountain would take two hours.
When his phone hit 10,000 steps, he was pumped; at 15,000, his feet hurt a bit; past 20,000, those extra 5,000 steps changed everything—thighs aching, hips aching, stairs hurt going up and down.
He pitifully asked Chi Mo, “Bro, are we there yet? Bro… when do we get there? Bro, when do we head back to the hotel? Bro, when do we go home? Bro, I won’t come next time, okay…?”
Tired as he was, whiny as he got, Li Ran’s mood never dropped. He reached for every glossy green leaf he saw; eight out of ten roadside trees got groped by him.
Chi Mo always watched his feet, pulling him back when he darted off.
Wild cats roamed the mountain—wary of humans but meowing ingratiatingly. Li Ran knew they’d been abused but were starving.
Wary of the two-legged beasts yet desperate to survive and beg food.
Li Ran had brought a backpack stuffed with snacks and water; Chi Mo took it at the base and slung it over his shoulder.
Every wild cat they saw, Chi Mo didn’t ask—just pulled out little breads and sausages from the bag, handed them to Li Ran to feed. Li Ran tore open the packages and tossed them near the cats; Chi Mo took the trash and ditched it at the next stone-bin trash spot.
Near the summit, the sky hadn’t darkened, but fat raindrops pelted down. The canopy buffered them; folks on the path stayed dry.
The rain drumming on countless leaves created nature’s symphony, filling Li Ran with a distant yet strangely yearning sense of the sacred.
He’d never traveled or seen real scenery.
“Frog vibes—meet water and thrive, meet water and thrive. But just rain’s fine, heavens—don’t you dare thunder, or with all these trees, who knows who you’d strike.” Among the employees, Hua Xue Fan and her friends kept pace with Li Ran and Chi Mo; she laughed as she said it.
On the descent, Li Ran fretted nonstop: Would thunder really hit? Would the trees act as lightning rods? Would one strike down? Would it hit him…?
His imagination outpaced his dawdling steps, scaring himself. He sidled closer to Chi Mo, then quietly grabbed his shirt hem. Chi Mo thought he was just tired.
But Li Ran said, “I’m scared of dying. Bro, you’re tall… lightning’ll hit you first.”
He was just too nervous, trying for a joke. But someone without a funny bone comes off clumsy, stirring in Chi Mo a bizarre mix of amusement and endearment.
Chi Mo said, “You’re such a filial one.”
Six hours on foot was tough for a newbie like Li Ran. Midway, Chi Mo offered to carry him; Li Ran was passing a disabled guy with unbreakable spirit, hunched and taking steps like an 80-year-old grandpa.
He turned down the offer.
Back at the hotel, Li Ran’s legs felt like lead, not flesh.
He gamely took a hot shower, forgot his pajamas, and threw on a white bathrobe that reached his knees, belted loosely at the waist, haphazardly tied.
He flopped straight onto the bed; slippers clattered to the floor. He didn’t bother flipping over or scooting to the middle—just face-planted into the pillow at the edge, one leg dangling off, calf pale and eye-catching.
Chi Mo emerged from his shower and saw Li Ran passed out sprawled like that.
The bathrobe outlined his body—the spine, the waistline, then the hips. It only went to the knees, and sprawled as he was, his entire lower leg was bare to the air.
Li Ran was slim, but had meat where it counted—even his calf had this near-perfect muscular curve.
Plump, sensual.
Tempting someone to grab it, stroke it.
Chi Mo actually did—gripped it with one hand.
Li Ran yelped suddenly, startling awake. He looked back at Chi Mo, unsure what that gaze meant. His scalp tingled faintly.
He kicked a bit, trying to free his calf. His voice trembled: “Bro, don’t press…”
Li Ran was near tears: “Ah… Bro, my legs are sore. It hurts. Let go.”
“Mm, I know.” Chi Mo’s thumb kneaded the tender flesh of that calf, rolling and pushing; then his whole palm pressed in, rubbing firmly—no mercy. “First time hiking like that, soreness is normal for long exertion. But you gotta stretch and massage it out now, or you’ll limp tomorrow.”
“Really…” Li Ran felt something like medicated oil in his palm—cool and slick at first, then warming.
“Yeah.” Chi Mo said.
“Oh… okay then.”
But Chi Mo’s grip was too strong, and Li Ran’s legs really were sore and aching.
Every knead made him try to pull away; Chi Mo wouldn’t let him. Li Ran pouted, on the verge of tears—guys couldn’t be this fragile, too embarrassing—so he bit his lip and held it in.
“It’s okay to yell if it hurts.” Chi Mo met his eyes, permitting him not to be so tough, even coaxing him. “You can cry too.”
