Chapter 27: Pervert Part 1

The new semester’s books lay scattered across the desks. Qi Zhi laughed until he collapsed onto the tabletop. “Hahahahaha, A’Dai, come on, snap out of it. Look at how scared you are, hahahahaha…”

He gasped for breath with every word, sucking in laughter between syllables. Li Ran just wished he would stop.

That whole “confession” had made Li Ran’s books clatter to the floor. Ban Wei had just parked his electric scooter and was walking over from the bike shed. Seeing the scene, he thought Li Ran had hit his rebellious phase and was protesting by tearing up books. He chuckled and asked what was going on—was Li Ran trying to rebel big time?

It was fine until he asked. Once he did, things got worse.

Li Ran’s face drained of color. At just seventeen, he already showed late-stage Parkinson’s symptoms—his hands shook so badly that he dropped a book for every one he picked up.

Finally, he gathered the heavy stack of knowledge—China’s towering mountain—into his arms, nearly buckling under the weight. Then he turned and bolted!

If the books bundled in his school uniform had been stacks of cash, the scene would have screamed “bank robber.” Ban Wei didn’t catch on. Having binge-watched cop shows all night, he instinctively patted his waist, imagining drawing a gun to shoot the fleeing Li Ran.

In the end, he fashioned a finger gun, pointing two fingers at Qi Zhi’s head. His eyes blazed. “Kid, it’s obviously you causing trouble. Why mess with him for no reason? He’s the only honest kid in class—let me have some peace. Go apologize!”

Back in the classroom, Qi Zhi laughed hysterically.

He was still in that state now—laughing from atop the desk to under it.

The key classes had plenty of good students who showed up early for registration. Who was eager in the underperforming classes?

High School Class 20—now High School Class 3-10—still had barely anyone.

Those who came dumped their books on the desks and headed straight to the equipment room, dusty for nearly two months, to borrow basketballs and hit the field. They wouldn’t return without the homeroom teacher.

Qi Zhi couldn’t stop laughing. “A’Dai, A’Dai, have you ever seen me date a guy? I change girlfriends every month! Okay, truth time: I’m definitely bisexual. But bisexual means I can date guys or girls—it’s not the narrower homosexuality. And I don’t like you anyway, so stop being so scared. I was just teasing you…”

“Hahahaha, I’m done. I finally get how terrified you are of gay people. Don’t worry, really don’t. Li Ran, you’re too straight-laced; our personalities don’t match. How could I like you? And you’re such a straight guy—the die-hard type. I’d have to be crazy to like you. If we actually dated, I’d die of frustration. Even dogs know gay guys chasing straight men never ends well—and I’m not even fully gay.”

Li Ran huddled in the corner, back pressed tight against the wall, watching Qi Zhi warily.

He wanted to leave, but Qi Zhi blocked the way.

Qi Zhi kept laughing and talking, like he was having a seizure. Li Ran unconsciously glanced at his mouth, half-afraid he’d start foaming at it.

That line—”I don’t like you”—sounded like heavenly music. See? His desk mate, the top student in school, smart and fun—how could he suddenly mutate?

Li Ran stopped clawing at the wall, his spine relaxing slightly. “…Why scare me like that?”

He said fiercely, “Annoying.”

Qi Zhi paused. “Hahahahahahahahahaha…”

Qi Zhi and Chi Mo were cousins, two years apart. They had played together far more as kids than after growing up.

The last time, at adults’ urging, he’d invited Chi Mo to dinner, only to face a rare cold rejection. Ever since his cousin went abroad, they felt more like distant relatives.

Calling him “bro” got no response; he had to clearly say “cousin.”

He never expected Chi Mo to let Li Ran move into the Chi Family home—even if it was just renting a room. It was unbelievable.

All summer, Qi Zhi had texted Li Ran sporadically: What are you doing today? Plans for tomorrow? Wanna hang out the day after?

Li Ran’s replies stayed distant.

He’d never been overly warm, but it wasn’t this obvious before.

It felt like he was deliberately keeping distance.

During registration, his startled reaction to physical contact made Qi Zhi suspect he’d been exposed.

And sure enough.

“A’Dai, how did you know I like guys?” The class was empty, so Qi Zhi spoke freely. “My family is strict. My parents don’t know. My future relationships will follow family rules: I can fool around with guys, but never marry one—society doesn’t allow it anyway. Gay partnerships come with too much hassle.”

Chi Mo had blurted out that Qi Zhi was gay. Though they were related, they weren’t from the same household—how could Li Ran know how Chi Mo found out?

He wouldn’t rat out his cousin.

He muttered softly, “…I guessed.”

“Yeah,” Qi Zhi said. “They say gays and homophobes both have radar for it. You’re so phobic, it’s no surprise you guessed.”

“My cousin, he’s…”

“What’s your cousin?!” Li Ran blurted in shock.

If Chi Mo was too… then he’d just have to… respect it!

His voice wasn’t loud, but Li Ran was reserved, so it rang high in Qi Zhi’s ears. It startled him, shaking loose some wild thoughts.

Chi Mo had matured early, thanks not just to himself but his family. From the moment he understood things, his parents pinned high hopes on him. He had no real childhood—while others played games, he competed in contests.

Qi Zhi’s aunt and uncle wanted Chi Mo to follow their blueprint: a top spot in the business empire before thirty.

But Chi Mo rebelled young, veering off track and growing close to his little uncle, Chi Wei.

Chi Mo’s father was Chi Wei, and his little uncle Chi Wei—their names matched in pinyin.

Their dynamic baffled Qi Zhi, not yet twenty.

Chi Mo rarely tasted snacks as a kid. He once made chocolate from grains; it had an oddly righteous flavor.

He gave Qi Zhi a piece and coldly told him to keep it secret. Qi Zhi wanted to, but he hadn’t finished it when his parents spotted it—chocolate smeared on his lips, impossible to miss.

No way it’d go unnoticed in an open-book test.

When his parents asked where it came from, Qi Zhi blurted the truth in the moment.

He didn’t know if Chi Mo got scolded, but he’d never seen a second piece since.

A couple years ago, Chi Mo started a small chocolate factory abroad—not for profit, probably some obsession.

Chocolate was plentiful now, but Qi Zhi still hadn’t gotten that second piece.

That incident became Qi Zhi’s obsession. For a decade, he regretted his loose lips.

So when Li Ran gave him chocolate recently, one taste shocked him. How unique could chocolate be? Sweet or bitter. But Qi Zhi tasted something different.

He hadn’t dared confirm.

His cousin held grudges—talk too much, and he’d die.

“Qi Zhi, what’s up with your cousin? Tell me.” Li Ran urged.

When had his desk mate ever shown this curiosity about someone? Qi Zhi stared at him, unsmiling. “Come closer. This is whisper-only stuff.”

Li Ran hesitated, but curiosity won. He leaned in his ear.

The first day after summer jobs ended, Moran Technology felt off without Li Ran—everyone upstairs and down missed him.

Only Chi Mo didn’t. He got three daily messages from Li Ran: registration, caught by the director, haircut later, getting books, class, school lunch, nap… every detail.

Chi Mo praised him for being good.

[Bro, naptime. Remember to eat. See you tonight.]

Li Ran sent the update, then face-planted on the desk, burying his face in his arms.

He rarely dreamed, but today he did, inexplicably.

He didn’t recall his age, only sensing he was little. One day after school, neither mom nor dad was off work. Li Ran went home alone.

Elementary kids weren’t toddlers; many learned independence—no parental pickup, no teacher calls.

That day, he waited at the gate with his little backpack. Dusk settled, no Bai Qingqing. The school entrance emptied. Li Ran walked home alone.

The path to the old neighborhood had a narrow, dark stretch. Li Ran wasn’t scared of dark; he padded forward like a kitten.

Then big hands scooped him from behind.

A man.

The man said he’d watched him a while, that he looked like a little girl, that he needed “handling,” that kids were soft to touch.

Li Ran panicked.

The man covered his mouth, silencing him. For seconds, that salty, foul hand nearly suffocated him.

He thought of mom, dad…

The man had an accomplice. When the man tossed Li Ran down and they fought, Li Ran couldn’t grasp why.

Arguing over sharing him? Both wanting first?

But what could a man do to a boy?

A kid’s brain was underdeveloped, capacity tiny. Li Ran couldn’t figure it. Terror from the hulking shadows made his wobbly legs stumble forward—he didn’t dare look back.

At home, dazed, he told Bai Qingqing about the bad man. Her face paled; she checked him thoroughly, then erupted like a volcano, raging at Li Ang for forgetting to pick him up…

The explosive fight overshadowed the memory. After the nap dream, Li Ran’s heart raced long after.

He wondered if it was real.

The dream question shifted hazily: What could one man do to another?

They couldn’t make babies like man-woman. So what was the point? Just talk, hold hands?

Boring?

More boring than him?

Biology books only covered man-woman perfection—no man-man.

And a bisexual sat beside him…

Li Ran sneaked a sidelong glance at Qi Zhi.

He felt weird. Per Qi Zhi, bisexual meant dating guys or girls—so that included guy-guy. Why did hearing it relieve him so much? Felt fine.

Had nothing to do with him anyway, right?

Li Ran couldn’t sort it.

Thinking of those faceless men in the dream sent chills of horror through him.

Back home, Chi Mo saw Li Ran zoning out on the sofa. He touched his face.

Li Ran blanked out, jolted at the touch, dropping the hug pillow.

Subconsciously, he knew it was home—only Chi Mo could touch him. He didn’t dodge.

“Scared you?” Chi Mo withdrew his finger, then stroked his hair once Li Ran refocused. He lowered his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Bro…” This “bro” dragged at the end, a rare coquettish tone reserved for utmost trust.

Chi Mo’s brow twitched.

He said, “Tell me. I’m here.”

Li Ran spilled the classroom joke with Qi Zhi and the nap dream.

No conclusion—he just needed to vent.

Chi Mo got it, face impassive.

“Qi Zhi confessed to you today?”

“No, he was joking…”

“What’d he say about me?” Chi Mo interrupted softly, politely, a smile tugging his lips.

Friendly vibe, yet Li Ran’s nape prickled.

“And Li Ran, that accomplice in your dream? That was probably me.” As Li Ran gaped, Chi Mo pinched his chin, forcing his face up—nowhere to hide.

“I saved you. Not thanking me is one thing—but calling me a pervert?”

But now, one of them—a man who wasn’t a dog—sat beside him, wearing a leisurely yet accusatory smile on his face. Li Ran trembled outright.

“…Huh?” His voice shook even more.