Ming Ying hesitated, panting, but didn’t hang up the call with Thomas.
Then he watched helplessly as XI’s caller ID turned gray.
Fuck. What the hell was this.
Ming Ying listened to Thomas’s consolation half-heartedly, then covered his face with one hand.
The Uber driver was a very humorous Mexican. Knowing Ming Ying was Chinese, he even made a point to play “Gong Xi Fa Cai.”
But even a song with such high-energy vibes couldn’t lift Ming Ying’s mood. Until his phone suddenly started singing again.
—XI was calling again.
This time, Ming Ying rubbed his hair, not daring to ignore it.
“Where are you?”
“Uh… I’m in the car.”
“Why are you in the car?”
“…”
Ming Ying fell silent for a moment. “I’m heading back to school.”
“You don’t have classes today.”
“…It just suddenly… came up.”
“What class? Which professor? I’ll request leave for you.”
I… fuck.
“No need, I think I’ll just—”
“Ming, if you have a problem, or any dissatisfaction, resolve it now. Running away is not a solution.”
“…”
Ming Ying weakly retorted, “I don’t have a problem.”
“Then there’s some dissatisfaction?”
“…”
Damn.
What problem.
Ming Ying really wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground. But the next second, the man ruthlessly dug that hole right out from under him—
“Does the car you’re in have the license plate”
The voice on the phone recited a string of license plate numbers. Ming Ying jumped in fright and hurriedly leaned over the seat area to look in the rearview mirror.
—Silas’s car!!!
Ming Ying’s heart raced. He truly didn’t know what to say. Holding it in, he suddenly blurted out, “You, how can you be on the phone while driving!”
“…”
Ming Ying closed his eyes. What in the world was he saying.
Silas seemed to laugh. “Hmm, what, are you going to fine me?”
Damn.
As if he had that kind of power.
In the end, Ming Ying was forced to have the driver end the trip, pull over, and let him out.
Ming Ying stood by the roadside, holding his backpack, watching as that familiar car turned, approached, came to a stop, and finally, the door opened.
Silas was, for once, not in formal wear. He was only wearing a gray, at-home sweater, which made him look rather “gentle.”
However, one could tell this trip was clearly made on short notice.
Seeing Silas get out, Ming Ying didn’t move, still standing where he was. The two faced each other across a few meters’ distance.
The moment Ming Ying met Silas’s gaze, some indescribable images uncontrollably appeared in his mind.
Neither of them had been drinking last night.
Those scenes of trembling comfort, those clear sensations of pleasure and pain, were carved sharply into his brain.
Fuck, could he ever be straight again?
Ming Ying quickly averted his eyes—man, the New York sky today was so blue. Were those pigeons he saw?
Silas walked over with a coat and saw Ming Ying’s gaze darting everywhere but at him.
So he couldn’t help but smile a little, reaching out and pinching the boy’s chin back toward him.
“…”
“What are you looking at?”
“I’m looking at the sky…”
“Notice anything?”
“Uh, it’s really nice-looking. No, I mean, really blue.”
Silas handed him the coat. “Get in the car first.”
Ming Ying froze. This was Silas’s coat. He hesitated.
Silas frowned at him. “Wearing so little when running out, aren’t you cold?”
“…Uh, it’s okay.” Ming Ying took the coat, rubbed his nose, and said, “We young people are quite resistant to the cold.”
“…”
Ming Ying’s mouth always ran faster than his brain. He stole a glance at the man in front, but the other didn’t get angry. On the contrary, he even smiled a little.
“We’ll talk in the car.” Silas hooked a lip and added, “Young man.”
“…”
Thus, Ming Ying, in his capacity as a “young person,” seemingly reluctantly and awkwardly got into the car with the old man.
But very quickly, Ming Ying noticed something else amiss.
“Wh… Why is the seat reclined flat?”
Silas glanced over. “To make it easier for you to lie down.”
To make it easier for you to lie down.
Ming Ying gripped the car door tightly.
This was truly unbearable! If the uncle could tolerate it, the nephew couldn’t!
Ming Ying mustered his courage to rebel. “I want to sit in the back!”
Silas looked up at this, then glanced back at the rear seat, frowning. “Ming, the back seat is too narrow. Not good for lying face down.”
“Why would I need to lie face down?” Ming Ying pointed at the passenger seat. “Raise it back up. I want to sit.”
After their physical relationship had become impure, Ming Ying’s manner seemed to have inherited a tenth of the School Board Director’s real authority.
Silas saw this, understood the kid wanted to save face, and said no more.
The pity was that Ming Ying secretly gritted his teeth and endured the entire ride.
Once they finally arrived home, Ming Ying couldn’t wait a single moment. He opened the door and got out, moving even faster than Silas.
Silas laughed.
Ming Ying heard it, frowned. “What are you laughing at?”
Silas just took Ming Ying’s bag and said, “Seems to me you really wanted to come back.”
“…”
Ming Ying’s mouth moved, about to say something to salvage some ground for himself. But before he could open his mouth, he was being guided inside by a hand on his head.
Ming Ying hated this gesture. As he walked, he reached up to block it. “Don’t touch, I won’t grow taller.”
And so, Mr. Aston took his feedback into consideration and changed to touching his face.
Warm fingertips brushed across his cheek. Ming Ying’s heart tingled, but he was also a bit annoyed. A wicked thought stirring, he actually reached out to touch Silas’s face too—
But Ming Ying’s skill level was far too low. The old pervert didn’t mind the initiative at all, even cooperatively tilting his head, planting a kiss, intentionally or not, onto Ming Ying’s palm.
“…”
Ming Ying immediately withdrew his hand as if burned.
Fuck. Someone judge this. Was this guy even human?
Just then, they happened to pass through the yard and reach the entrance hall of the living room. Ming Ying stood frozen in shock. Because that gesture from Silas had instantly reminded him of a similar scene last night…
That was at the end, face to face. Silas had forced him to look at him, then deliberately slowed his movements to torment him. Ming Ying’s mouth was slightly open, but he couldn’t speak. He could only, amidst this almost painful eye contact, raise a slightly trembling hand and touch the man’s face.
The sensation back then had been slick with moisture, with sweat, with heavy breathing.
“Ming?”
Ming Ying snapped back, coughing into his hand as cover.
He thought to himself: Fuck, having indecent thoughts in broad daylight. You’re hopeless!
Ming Ying looked up but still avoided meeting Silas’s gaze. “What is it?”
He heard Silas say, “Come here.”
Ming Ying finally moved his eyes over. And with that shift, he saw Silas standing by the table, an empty bowl beside him, and… the three bills he had left!
Crap, he’d forgotten about that…
Ming Ying tried to bargain. “…Um, can I not come over?”
Silas frowned and tapped his knuckles on the table. “I have something to ask you.”
“I still have homework to write.”
“That can wait.”
“It really can’t wait.”
Silas paused. “How urgent is it?”
Ming Ying kicked the ground with his toe. “Professor Thomas is rushing me.”
Then he added, “You heard it last night.”
“…”
The atmosphere suddenly turned a bit strange.
After a moment, Silas looked at him. “Then go write it now.”
So Ming Ying let out a breath and turned to go into the living room. But Silas suddenly added, “Go to the study to write.”
Ming Ying’s steps faltered. “No need, I can just write on the sofa here—”
Silas walked over, cutting him off. “Ming, I haven’t finished tidying the sofa.”
“Huh?”
When the meaning of those words sank in, Ming Ying instantly felt blood rush to his head.
“It… It’s not done?”
Hadn’t he seen this morning that it was already done?!
He hadn’t gone blind, had he?
Silas took his backpack and led him towards the second floor, his tone flat. “The sofa cover couldn’t be used anymore. Had a new one custom-ordered.”
“…”
Ming Ying mechanically walked up to the second floor. But hell, this staircase was also looking more and more suspicious—
Ming Ying looked at the back of the man before him, and couldn’t help but think about last night on the stairs…
Fuck. Are you sick, Ming Ying!
Ming Ying quickly shook his head. He really regretted getting out of that ride-share car. This feeling of revisiting the crime scene was just too terrifying…
Fortunately, the study was still clean (for now).
Ming Ying followed Silas in. He found this study, just like his office, gave off a specific feeling. If he had to describe it, it was probably… normal.
Not the imagined luxury or extravagance. It was just an ordinary study.
Sunlight streamed in through the blinds, and the whole room seemed tinged with Aston’s scent. Very comfortable.
Seeing Ming Ying’s expression, Silas asked, “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Ming Ying looked around. “Where am I writing?”
Silas laughed. “On the desk, of course.”
“But there’s only one here—”
When Ming Ying realized Silas meant he was to sit at his desk, his entire demeanor became somewhat off.
Good heavens, he had a natural fear of the Dean of Students’ office desk!
Silas saw him not moving and frowned. “Not in a hurry anymore?”
“Ah, about that.” Ming Ying scratched his head. “This… It’s not appropriate, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if you have documents there, and I mess them up?”
Silas gently tapped his head. “What nonsense are you thinking.”
Ming Ying was indeed overthinking. The desk in the study had nothing on it, only a computer and a landline phone.
Just then, Silas’s phone rang. So he said, “Ming, I need to take a call.”
Ming Ying’s heart shouted, Go, go quickly, but his face plastered on a smile. “Okay.”
After Silas left, the cat being away, the mouse began to play king. Ming Ying didn’t rush to turn on the computer. Instead, he crossed his arms and strolled around the room.
Nothing special. If it weren’t for the different decor and location, Ming Ying would really suspect he was in the study of his father, Comrade Ming Jianguo.
Ming Ying wandered around and finally stopped in front of the bookshelf.
The shelf was a four-column layout. Ming Ying happened to stand before the second column, where some award certificates seemed to be placed.
But as Ming Ying looked through the glass, his gaze froze on a photo.
It was a solo shot. The young man in the picture wore a black bachelor’s gown but no cap.
He stood in front of N University’s iconic Big Banyan Tree. His aura was cool, yet there was some trace of a smile on his face.
The sunlight, caught by the banyan tree, scattered into the lens and onto the young man’s face, illuminating exceptionally brilliant features.
Ming Ying glanced at the time printed beneath the photo: 201/6/1
Oh, so this was the old man in his early twenties.
Ming Ying stared at the photo for a while, then took out his phone, aimed at the picture, zoomed, focused, and snapped.
After taking the picture, Ming Ying chuckled to himself.
Then he turned around and touched the leather soft chair behind the desk.
Very soft. Sitting on it probably wouldn’t hurt anymore…
Ming Ying was truly tired of standing.
He carefully shifted his rear, leaving himself some room to adjust. Once seated, Ming Ying sighed.
Sure enough, a rich person’s chair was just different.
Ming Ying swung his legs, spinning a full circle in the chair. A sudden flash of inspiration sparked in his mind, giving rise to a wicked idea.
So, the scene Silas returned to after his call was this—
Ming Ying, arms crossed, both legs folded and propped arrogantly atop Mr. Aston’s solid wood desk, expression stern, even paired with a vivid vocal performance: “Take it away,” “I disagree,” “Today’s problems cannot be put off until tomorrow. That’s not the attitude one should have in solving problems”…
Silas stood at the doorway watching for two minutes before frowning and saying, “Ming?”
Ming Ying jumped in fright and immediately tried to retract his legs.
Unfortunately, his movement stuttered. Silas walked straight over and pressed down on the calf that Ming Ying hadn’t yet managed to pull off the desktop.
“…”
Ming Ying’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t dare look up.
Silas stood to the side of the desk, looking down at him. “Seems like you’re not in that much of a hurry?”
“…N-no.” Ming Ying wanted to pull his leg back, his expression a bit embarrassed. Fuck, this was no different from being caught by the Dean of Students with his feet up on the desk.
Ming Ying was instinctively afraid and started cosplaying again, babbling for mercy: “Boss, hear me out. I… mainly wanted to experience your… authority—Ah!”
The word “authority” from Ming Ying’s mouth was ultimately swallowed back down because of Mr. Aston’s presence.
“No, you…”
Ming Ying somewhat regretted wearing loose wide-leg pants. He hunched his waist, his expression twisting. Fuck, this old pervert was pinching his thigh again!!!
Silas withdrew his hand. “I what?”
Ming Ying rubbed his thigh, muttering softly, “You came back too fast.”
Silas narrowed his eyes. “So it’s my fault?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
That’s exactly what I meant.
The words from this mouth and the expression on this face said completely opposite things.
“Hm.” Silas looked at him, smiled faintly, and said, “I know.”
So Ming Ying snorted coldly and grudgingly opened his laptop.
The moment it booted, two emails from Professor Thomas popped up. Ming Ying massaged his forehead and finally, resignedly, started writing his assignment.
Around 3 PM is the most comfortable time of the day, the blue sky lingering, dusk seeming near.
October is also the most comfortable time of the year, the breeze gentle, the wind cool.
If, around 3 PM on an October day, you share a room with your ambiguous (hookup) partner, occasionally exchanging glances, chatting flirtatiously, touching, brushing against each other, kissing… well, that would be the most enjoyable thing.
—However, Ming Ying didn’t feel that way. Because right now, Silas was clearly not his ambiguous partner, but his Boss, his Dean of Students.
“The kind of proposal submitted, Thomas won’t include you in his projects for the next six months.”
“I don’t see a problem.”
“You have no problem. Having no problem is exactly the biggest problem.” Silas reached from behind, guiding Ming Ying’s mouse to point at the sketch on his screen. “Ming, you’re too conservative.”
“…”
“Not ethereal enough, not imaginative enough.” Silas frowned.
Ming Ying was a bit defiant. “I’ve seen those kinds of conceptual drawings. In terms of feasibility, it’s basically non-existent.”
“True. But Ming, it’s not yet at the stage where feasibility needs to be considered. Because you’re entering a competition, not building a house right now.” Silas leaned close to his ear. “Here, you can think about it more.”
As he drew near, Ming Ying’s mind buzzed. “Oh. I get it. Uh, I’ll think it over some more.”
Silas responded with an “Mm,” remaining hunched behind Ming Ying.
Ming Ying felt his breath spilling onto his neck, scorching hot. He coughed. A hard-to-describe feeling welled up in his heart, a mental state probably balanced between torment and enjoyment.
Who knew that right at that moment, a pop-up window would suddenly jump onto the screen formerly filled with blueprints—WhatsApp. The avatar was a white man smiling at the camera.
[WhatsApp] Luck: HI! Ming! we agreed to come to my house last time. When is the expected time? I’ve been waiting for a long time!
In an instant, the mouse cursor on the screen froze.
The breath on Ming Ying’s neck no longer felt hot. Not only was it not hot, it turned cold.
“Cough, cough…” Ming Ying hurriedly sat up straight. “I’ll look this over myself.”
“Hm.”
Silas let go of the mouse.
He straightened up, picked up his coffee cup from the desk, but didn’t move away from behind Ming Ying.
Ming Ying frowned, inwardly cursing that gay bar and himself a hundred times over.
His reputation was already bad enough, and now this. Jumping into the Yellow River couldn’t wash this clean now.
He fought to remain calm, X-ing out of the WhatsApp pop-up, restoring the page to purity.
Who knew Luck was like the King of Hell, chasing him down relentlessly.
[WhatsApp] Luck: Ming, I hope we can have an in-depth communication.
[WhatsApp] Luck: I haven’t forgotten you since I came back from the bar.
[WhatsApp] Luck: I hope to get a reply and love your luck.
…
The moment Ming Ying X-ed one out, another jumped up.
Fuck me. Buddy, you don’t need to use this trick to kill me.
For a time, the quiet, warm study was filled only with the “ding~”, “ding~” of message notifications from Ming Ying’s computer.
The other party finally stopped sending.
Ming Ying massaged his forehead. From the reflection on his computer screen, he could see the person standing behind him was watching.
Ming Ying hurriedly straightened up again.
“Uh, I recognized his avatar. This is that guy from the bar that day…”
Silas said nothing.
“He’s just sending things for fun. There’s nothing going on. How could I possibly go to his place?”
Silas: “Hm.”
Ming Ying’s heart thumped like a drum.
“About that, I’ll delete him later.”
Ming Ying heard a soft laugh from the man behind him.
Ming Ying thought to himself, he shouldn’t have missed anything else… he’d explained what needed explaining…
Immediately after, he felt a hand reach over from behind.
That hand, slightly warm from having just held the coffee cup, traced from Ming Ying’s earlobe, resting near his cheek.
“Remembering who he is just from his avatar, your memory is quite good.”
