“Woo-doo—woo-doo—”
A ninety-nine-second red light felt agonizingly slow when one had nothing to do, but when there was something to occupy oneself, that bit of time slipped away in an instant, impossible to grasp.
After the fifth day of the first lunar month, the masses who had returned to their hometowns for the New Year came back in droves. Now, during the evening rush hour, the city was hopelessly congested.
The Cullinan that Chi Mo was driving seemed rooted to the spot, as if nails had grown under its four wheels, firmly scraping the ground and refusing to budge. It provoked a chain reaction of fury.
Countless cars trailed behind it, filled with countless drivers, each one erupting in road rage.
Amid the deafening chorus of honking horns like a barrage of cannons, the source of all this road rage—Chi Mo, that utter bastard—finally regained some sanity. He reluctantly released Li Ran, wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, sat back down, and straightened his collar.
The light turned green—he glanced at it, just six seconds in.
In other words, in a mere six seconds, someone couldn’t wait and interrupted his good time. Even catching adulterers wouldn’t have made them this impatient.
Li Ran had originally thought the entire green light cycle was about to end. That way, Chi Mo might scrape together a shred of “guilt” from his extremely indifferent emotions. But now, it seemed like a waste of effort. Chi Mo expressionlessly fastened his seatbelt and leisurely followed the car ahead that had just pulled away.
Completely unaffected by the cacophony of horns.
Li Ran didn’t have skin as thick as his. He wondered if he could ever cultivate a face as impenetrable as the Great Wall.
The louder the honking, the redder his face grew. By the time Chi Mo mercifully let him go, Li Ran had turned into a fully ripened shrimp, so hot he wanted to strip off his clothes.
His two fingers twitched as he reached for the car window, hoping a blast of cold air would cool his overheated face.
“Trying to catch a cold?” Chi Mo stopped him without even looking. “Close it.”
Li Ran’s hand trembled. “Oh…”
At that moment, a car overtook from the right rear and pulled up alongside, the driver lowering his window to yell at Li Ran’s side: “The light was green! Didn’t you see? What’s the holdup? Making out in the car?!”
The last few words thundered through the narrowing gap in the Cullinan’s window, smacking Li Ran in the face like slaps, leaving him mortified and even hotter.
Chi Mo was already in a foul mood, and now this idiot jumped right in his face, radiating hostility from every pore.
But he wouldn’t do anything in front of Li Ran. Instead, he decisively made a call: “Overtaking from the right rear is illegal. Suggest a strict check. On University City Southern Road, just past the crossroad intersection. A black Santana, license plate…”
Anyone could make a righteous report like that, but coming from Chi Mo, it felt utterly unreal to Li Ran.
He was a bit shocked.
After spending so much time together, Li Ran always felt like his brother didn’t live on solid ground—like he was somewhat… ethereal. Chi Mo was still young, only twenty-one, but he knew everything and could do anything, as if nothing in the world could stump him.
Others envied him—for his wealthy family background and his brilliant mind.
At first, Li Ran had envied him too, drooling over it.
From Chi Mo, he painfully realized the vast gulf in intelligence between people. That very realization made him sense Chi Mo’s “unreality,” like he was fake.
After the call ended, Li Ran suddenly felt like his brother was human. Foolishly, dazedly, he took a long time to snap out of it.
Finally, as the heat faded from his face, he touched the corner of his mouth and grumbled, “You bit my lip again…”
“Can’t you be a little gentler? Last time you wanted to eat me, and this time you wanted it even more. I couldn’t even breathe… You wouldn’t even let me move. I just shifted a bit and you got mad, pinching my chin to hold me still.” Li Ran furrowed his delicate brows, complaining sentence by sentence. “Couldn’t you wait for me? I wasn’t running away. Next time, you can’t bite like that again…”
By then, they had somehow entered the villa. The Cullinan was parked in the garage.
No lights around, pitch black. The reading light in the front seats illuminated their little world.
Li Ran’s words cut off abruptly. For some inexplicable reason, he shivered, his body trembling.
Chi Mo stared at him darkly.
His gaze was particularly perverted.
In the sudden silence, the perverted Chi fellow frowned in displeasure, wanting to hear Li Ran continue.
“Why’d you stop? Keep going.” Chi Mo said seriously. “I want to hear more.”
Li Ran finally realized what nonsense he’d said—it was practically inviting Chi Mo to kiss him again next time.
Blood drained from his face one moment and surged back the next, hot and cold by turns. He shook his head like the world’s fastest rattle drum and declared loudly, “No next time!”
Chi Mo didn’t like that. His brows knitted instantly.
He reached out to grab Li Ran. Thinking he was about to be kissed again—and that escape would be impossible once caught—Li Ran shrank into the corner in fright.
At the same time, both hands fumbled for the door, scrambling out like he was fleeing a male ghost. He abandoned Chi Mo without a backward glance: “Bro, I’m heading home first! Black and White Impermanence Grandpa and Grandma must miss me after a day apart. Yeah, that’s right—they miss me, Black Grandpa and White Grandma miss me. I’m going to see them first…”
Chi Mo: “.”
After a moment of silence, Chi Mo withdrew his hand that hadn’t touched anyone, rubbed his fingers, got out, closed the door, and sneered: “Tch.”
Then he followed the exact path Li Ran had taken, sauntering after him unhurriedly.
At home, the elderly couple was arguing over dinner—one wanted braised pork belly, the other braised pork ribs.
The auntie who came daily to cook felt her head spinning from their bickering. Finally, she said hastily, “I’ll make both, both! No more arguing, you old kids.”
That was when Li Ran burst into the house like a whirlwind.
The living room door slammed with a bang. Cheng Ai Mei shot to her feet, knocking off a throw pillow, startled: “Earthquake?!”
Ye Ze jumped up too, panicking: “No idea!”
The auntie: “Really? Oh my god!”
“…It’s me, it’s me.” Li Ran poked his head out from behind the entryway, shuffling forward step by step. He raised his hand weakly. “I didn’t mean to—used too much force opening the door. Sorry…”
A click sounded behind him. Chi Mo casually closed the door Li Ran had crashed open and left ajar. Li Ran’s body stiffened. Without another word, he bolted upstairs without looking back.
“What’s with him?” Cheng Ai Mei felt the whoosh of wind as he passed and curiously raised her hand.
Ye Ze raised his hand too: “I wanna know too.”
Everyone loved gossip. The auntie glanced at the elderly couple, then at Chi Mo, not wanting to seem left out. Raising her hand like a schoolkid felt weird, but she joined in anyway.
The auntie slowly raised her hand: “…Since you’re all here… Can I listen too?”
Chi Mo ignored their antics and answered good-naturedly: “He was chased by a ghost.”
“Which ghost?”
“Me.”
“…”
Li Ran had eaten lunch late at Li Ang’s house that day—chatting and eating from two in the afternoon until four.
Afterward, a bit of cake topped it off. His stomach was stuffed; he couldn’t even drink water. That evening, he didn’t come down for dinner with Grandpa and Grandma. Chi Mo didn’t call him either.
In his room, Li Ran faced the corner, squatting on the floor in oblivious self-reflection.
At first, he hadn’t planned to squat in the corner. He’d locked himself in the bedroom, leaped onto the bed, and thrashed around under the covers. He rolled back and forth, always burying his face deep in the bedding, wishing he could smother himself.
After too many rolls, the blanket rebelled, wrapping him into a cocoon. When he rolled madly again, he tumbled off the bed with a thud.
Luckily, the blanket acted as armor, saving Li Ran’s cat life—no pain.
After much struggle to escape the burrito-wrapped blanket, Li Ran shook off imaginary dust and climbed back onto the bed. This time, he spared the blanket and turned on the pillow instead, grabbing it and whacking away excitedly—even smacking his own head twice, as if trying to knock himself out.
That way, he wouldn’t have to think about why he’d said those things to Chi Mo!
He was a straight guy!
Li Ran had never been this outwardly emotional, lively to excess. Even alone, it was a new, bustling realm for him.
Like Hei Ge in heat…
Half an hour later, the inexplicably deranged Li Ran finally felt exhausted and lay flat on the bed, silently reflecting.
The ceiling chandelier was really pretty. He should have been hyper-vigilant about his potential “not-straight” risk, his brain blaring alarms. But this heartless little thing’s eyelids drooped; he actually got sleepy and nearly dozed off.
He was jolted awake by his brother knocking.
Li Ran bolted upright, trying to muster straight-guy vigilance and straight-guy alarms to warn himself. But nothing came. His mind replayed the car kiss where Chi Mo pinned and bit him. His tongue felt dry with unease.
His lip corner ached faintly and burned.
The vigilance that Chi Mo might barge in arrived first, making Li Ran think he was indeed straight. He sighed in relief and called out to the door with false bravado: “What? Bro, I’ve already gone to sleep.”
Chi Mo asked from outside: “Wanna play Parallel World?”
“Yes…” Li Ran caught himself. He wanted to, but after a moment’s thought, said, “Maybe next time.”
Chi Mo didn’t push: “Alright.”
After Chi Mo left, Li Ran lay in bed still drowsy, without a trace of “once bitten, twice shy.” He’d been simmered tender by Chi Mo’s warm waters.
This wouldn’t do. One had to consider internal and external threats. The ancients weren’t wrong. Eyes sticky and mind foggy, he got up barefoot, went to the corner to face the wall in penitence. Standing tired him, so he squatted.
Probably to let mushrooms grow on his head.
Then the knocking woke him again.
“Hm? …Who’s there?” At the door’s sound, the squatting-and-sleeping Li Ran jerked his head up, disoriented. He tried to stand, but his legs were numb and buckled, sending him sprawling.
Thud—not quiet. But numb limbs meant no pain.
Chi Mo burst in immediately. The bedside lamp’s soft glow sufficed. He strode straight to the corner.
Seeing Li Ran clearly napping there, Chi Mo paused, a hint of helplessness. Spotting his bare, snow-white feet, his face darkened. One arm under the back, one under the knees, he scooped him up horizontally and placed him on the bed: “Why squat there without shoes? Brewing mushrooms? Got a few sprouting on your head? Trying to catch a cold?”
He turned Li Ran’s body to expose the soft mounds under his sleepwear, raising his big hand to spank—not hard, judging by the height. Li Ran swiftly hugged it: “I forgot to put them on. Sorry. Don’t hit me…”
“Don’t hit me—you’ll hurt your hand. I’m listening…” He clutched Chi Mo’s arm tightly to his chest. Chi Mo bent at the bed’s edge; Li Ran’s cheek nearly pressed against half his chest.
He wasn’t fully awake—maybe thought it was a dream. Eyes closed, he dozed off again.
Chi Mo: “…”
