Chapter 27: Pervert Part 2

A massage gun poking into flesh did exactly that: it made the local area jitter. If it got too close to the head, the brain buzzed right away. The image in Li Ran’s mind shook, and Chi Mo from a few months ago twisted into the Shining along with his voice.

The terrifying Shining had asked him back then: “Li Ran, five years ago, or even longer before that, how much do you remember about me?”

So they really did know each other.

And it was from even longer ago.

It turned out that Li Ran had been an infuriatingly heartless brat since childhood. Teenage Li Ran secretly spat on child Li Ran, then said shakily, “If I met you now… I definitely wouldn’t forget you… and I wouldn’t misunderstand you…”

“What do you want to meet now?” Chi Mo pinched his face without letting go. “Danger, or me?”

“Of course it’s you, bro. Bro, definitely you.”

Who in their right mind would want to meet danger?

Li Ran wasn’t missing a few screws.

“Bro, you lived here when you were little too?” Li Ran asked. “How come I never saw you?”

Chi Mo said coolly, “Is that so?”

“…”

Was it, or wasn’t it?

Chi Mo’s grip was pretty strong; it made Li Ran’s face hurt. For a few seconds, his cheeks caved inward, squeezing his mouth toward the center as if it wanted to pout. How ugly would that look?

He helplessly smacked his lips twice, trying to even out the corners of his mouth and keep them from drawing closer, forming a clear Chu-Han boundary line.

A bunch of little movements, but he never thought to yank Chi Mo’s hand away and call him out for getting handsy.

“Bro, have you pinched enough? My mouth’s getting sore; I wanna drool…” He glanced downward with his eyes, vaguely seeing the outline of the hand. Li Ran hinted strongly—if he didn’t let go, saliva was about to drool all over his hand.

Chi Mo said, “Drool then.”

“…” Li Ran pursed his lips, swallowing back the saliva.

Fortunately, Chi Mo still had some conscience. He released Li Ran with a flick of his big hand. Red marks appeared on his cheeks, as if he’d been kissed twice.

Li Ran rubbed his face, thinking to himself, He’s angry; better not provoke him.

“What all did Qi Zhi say about me? Tell me. I’ll correct anything wrong.” Chi Mo slipped off the Bodhi beads from his left wrist, undid his cufflinks, took off his suit jacket, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his forearms in two folds.

Li Ran envied the veins and blood vessels on his forearms.

“He didn’t say much. He said…” Li Ran hesitated, but a warning glance from Chi Mo forced him to swallow his plan to trim the details. He obediently spilled everything. “He leaned into my ear and said—‘My cousin’s family is even stricter. His uncle and aunt, plus his grandpa, don’t allow him to do anything. He’s raised as an emotionless, qualified heir. A homosexual relationship is the ultimate taboo in his family; later, even the word ‘homosexual’ couldn’t be mentioned. Remember to talk less.’—That’s what my deskmate said. I didn’t ask.”

When he imitated the traitor like a turncoat, he used his own voice timbre, but matched the pitch as closely as possible to the person he was ratting out. Far from ashamed, he got more into it the more he spoke.

“I never mentioned anything about same… sex or whatever to you. Right, bro? If I said anything wrong, you’ll remind me without getting mad… right, bro?”

When he’d heard this from Qi Zhi at noon, Li Ran’s first reaction wasn’t how strict Chi Mo’s family was or that homosexuality was an undiscussable topic in the Chi Family. Instead, it was how miserable his bro sounded, like he had no happy childhood. The two of them were kindred spirits in misfortune—such a perfect match.

“He even leaned into your ear. Pretty close. Keep your distance from him from now on.” Chi Mo suddenly snapped coldly. “That’s all?”

“Mhm mhm!” Li Ran nodded.

“Mmm.” Chi Mo chuckled mockingly, leaned back casually against the sofa like Li Ran had, and the throw pillow behind him deflated from the sneak attack.

“Help me untie my tie.”

Both his hands were free; he could’ve tugged it off himself. Why bother Li Ran?

Any normal person would’ve shot back, “You got no hands?” Li Ran was normal in an not-so-normal way. He nodded with an “oh” and shifted from sitting straight to leaning over. His upper body tilted toward Chi Mo, looking like he was sprawled on him. He used both hands to pull out the tie and fumble with the knot.

From Chi Mo’s top-down view, Li Ran looked just like a little wife.

Pretty. Appetizing. It stirred dark desires deep in his heart—a craving to claim Li Ran forever, lock him at home, and keep him from seeing the outside world.

“Follow my hands; I’ll teach you.” Chi Mo noticed how clumsy Li Ran was at untying someone else’s tie for the first time. He guided his knuckles, slowly undoing his own tie bit by bit.

And so, this task became part of Li Ran’s routine.

Li Ran was thrilled from the bottom of his heart to do something for Chi Mo. When he couldn’t find a place to live, Chi Mo had helped him like this too. He never even considered that his time and territory had already been quietly conquered by Chi Mo.

High school seniors had evening self-study now. Commuters and boarders were treated the same.

What did they want to do in their final year if not work hard? Fly to the heavens and build rockets? If they didn’t want to invest time now, they wouldn’t want to earn money tomorrow!

While others earned thirty thousand or three million a month, your crappy salary was only three thousand. You got the nerve?!

These lines hung constantly from the dean of studies’ mouth, brainwashing and attacking the seniors. Since there were seniors every year, these words had taken deep root in Li Ran’s brain for two years already. Now it was just review; he wouldn’t forget them three years after graduation.

Evening self-study required the homeroom teacher to supervise.

Ban Wei plopped down aggressively on the podium, legs crossed, sighing. Every pore radiated “Who the hell wants to watch these idiots who rank dead last after three years of exams?” His eyes scanned the class like searchlights over the sixty young boys’ and girls’ heads. He wanted to grab a whack-a-mole mallet and smash each one, forcing out the nerve that represented their intelligence.

Idiots couldn’t be saved.

With a dead heart, Ban Wei had long since given up and slacked off. Bored, he flipped open the summer homework collected at the start of school a couple days ago.

Sixty students, fifty-five assignments handed in.

The missing five, according to the boys who couldn’t tell truth from lies: eaten by the dog; written but forgotten; questions too easy, no need to write; used by the dumbass little brother as toilet paper; scribbled on by the three-year-old sister and burned as kindling by mom…

Li Ran had actually used that last excuse last year. But he wasn’t lying.

First, he really had sisters—two identical ones. Second, his mom called him for dinner and made him bring the homework. He’d just finished two pages when his sisters tore it to shreds.

Shredded to bits!

Bai Qingqing scolded the clueless little ones harshly. Li Ran said it was fine; they were little and didn’t know better. Uncle Zhao chimed in agreement. Li Ran secretly gloated inside.

The fifty-five handed-in assignments were even worse to grade; only five were original.

The rest were copied answers.

Ban Wei disgustedly opened one. Good luck—he picked one a student had done themselves.

It even had solution steps.

Not bad. Even in the dead-last class, they needed the dead-last student’s dignity. They could fail, but not leave it blank. Ban Wei’s weary soul, which wanted to quit, found some comfort. He thought it must be the class monitor and checked the name to confirm.

—Li Ran.

Ban Wei flipped back to the problem, frowning. Flipped back to the name again—Li Ran.

Shocked.

Ban Wei sucked in a breath, sat up straight, and examined it seriously.

Damn, all correct. Solution steps right. Even the big final math problem was solved.

The blank spaces were crammed with tiny ant-like writing—all calculations. Mixed in were two or three fierce turtles and a few bristling cats that looked ready to revolt.

But turtles and cats didn’t count; their shells and backs were covered in precise steps. The handwriting shifted shapes now and then; Ban Wei stared forever to make it out.

This brat… no, this honest kid went to cram school over summer? Silently grinding everyone to death? With who? This tutor was badass!

Years of teaching, and he’d never seen such a hardworking student. Ban Wei looked reverently toward the back row with solemn respect. There, Qi Zhi propped his elbow on a textbook, head buried into Li Ran like a dog. Li Ran was practically hiding in the wall, listening attentively and reservedly to Qi Zhi.

Qi Zhi tapped the textbook with his pen.

Li Ran nodded eagerly, hungry for knowledge.

Even during evening self-study, they studied properly.

Tears nearly fell from Ban Wei’s eyes.

He slammed the desk excitedly, jolting the drowsy class awake. The sixty whackable gopher heads perked up instantly—no more sleepiness.

“Teacher, wh-what’s up?”

Ban Wei: “Do you know whose homework this is? Do you know how well he did? Do you know what it means for a summer assignment to be completely correct? This is Li Ran’s summer homework! Li Ran! Li Ran! Our class mascot Li Ran! But he’s not just a mascot anymore—he’s started working hard! And you lot are still slacking!!”

“A kid who for two years came exactly on time, left exactly on time, and wouldn’t enter class a single minute early—suddenly buckles down to study hard. Doesn’t that make you panic? When Li Ran gets into Tsinghua or Peking University and you end up in community college or vocational school, you okay with that?! Is that right?!”

Excluding Ban Wei, the rousing old bastard, and Li Ran, the unlucky example, all fifty-nine pairs of eyes in the class swiveled to the dumbstruck Li Ran.

Even Qi Zhi’s eyes darkened faintly.

Just moments ago, the idiot Ban Wei had seen Qi Zhi and Li Ran heads close, thinking he’d caught proof of Li Ran secretly getting tutored by his deskmate. Deeply gratified, he seized the chance for an impassioned speech. Li Ran freaked out in horror; his body spasmed, arm jerking and sweeping his books off the desk. He dove under the desk in panic to pick them up, then poked his head out—straight into fifty-plus locked stares. His body and soul froze solid.

The pressure of “Tsinghua Peking University” weighed like a mountain. Li Ran couldn’t fathom how Ban Wei’s 37-degree mouth spat such an ice-cold joke. Qi Zhi’s invitation droned relentlessly in his ear.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday—no classes, no early wake-up. Around nine later, after evening self-study ends, come with me. I’ll take you to a nearby gay bar to broaden your horizons.”