“Rolex Hottie, you came? What are you here for today? Buying cigarettes?”
Gao Rong glanced at the blue cigarette pack under Chi Lanyi’s fingers and casually withdrew his gaze. “Mm. Buying cigarettes.”
Chi Lanyi stood rigidly at the counter. And Gao Rong, for this chance encounter, had already been waiting here for many days.
Under the bright lights, Gao Rong could clearly see the appearance of the nineteen-year-old Chi Lanyi. Chi Lanyi was still tall and slender, his skin still revealing a sickly, glass-like pallor.
He still wore clothes that matched his aesthetic—clean, cold, expensive, lean, in shades of black, white, and gray. His attire made him look like a morose, delicate line drawing.
Chi Lanyi always said he feared chaotic environments. He had to make himself appear refined and neat, to seem untouchable. He always loved using low-saturation monochromes—especially black, silver-gray, and ivory; those colors stabilized his mood, made him feel safe.
—Because his own ceaselessly disordered emotions were the source of all the chaos in his life.
So Chi Lanyi was this well-dressed at nineteen. Gao Rong took a subtle sniff, finding that Chi Lanyi hadn’t made a mistake in choosing his perfume, either.
Freesia and Cool Musk: clean, delicate, with a faint, cold note like leaves after rain.
Like the temperature of a collarbone not yet fully dried after a bath. That familiar scent captivated Gao Rong.
Chi Lanyi had lowered his head since Gao Rong entered, only his shoulders trembling slightly. Gao Rong knew he was nervous about his arrival, yet pretended not to notice, deliberately brushing past him.
The moment they passed each other, Chi Lanyi flinched.
At that moment, Gao Rong felt a morbid satisfaction of his desire for control.
He stood beside the counter. The shopkeeper asked him: “Hottie, you bought so many packs of Seven Stars a few days ago, finished them all already?”
“Wanted to change flavors.” Gao Rong said flatly. “Short Liqun, do you have any?”
“Short Liqun? Such a wide jump in taste, are you sure?”
“Sure, I like it.” Gao Rong said.
“Short Liqun’s taste is very heavy, oh. Completely different from the Seven Stars you liked before. Right, Rolex Hottie, you bought so many Seven Stars that this little hottie next to you doesn’t have any cigarettes left to smoke.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gao Rong saw Chi Lanyi’s fingers gripping the cigarette pack suddenly tighten. Chi Lanyi was clearly very nervous, yet for some reason, he didn’t leave.
Gao Rong didn’t look at Chi Lanyi, only said: “He likes smoking Seven Stars?”
“Smokes them. Now the Seven Stars are all sold out, so he has to buy LEJIA instead.”
“Is that so?” Gao Rong said, “That’s quite pitiful.”
His tone remained cold and stern, but the last sentence carried a hint of flirtation. Chi Lanyi shuddered violently. In the reflection, Gao Rong saw Chi Lanyi hastily putting the cigarettes into his coat pocket.
“You two both like the same kind of cigarette, meeting like this is fate, why not get to know each other?” The shopkeeper brought out the cigarettes, then looked at the other side of the counter in confusion. “Huh? Where’s the Little Prince?”
“Left.” Gao Rong said flatly.
He didn’t chase after him. He knew Chi Lanyi couldn’t have gone far.
The weather forecast said there would be a heavy downpour tonight.
Sure enough, the moment Gao Rong stepped out of the shop, the heavy moisture turned into a sudden, torrential rain.
Chi Lanyi liked strolling with an umbrella in light rain, but he would absolutely never hurry messily through a downpour—especially not when he had carefully dressed himself up.
Gao Rong, carrying his newly bought cigarettes, walked slowly with an expressionless face towards a spot where one could shelter from the rain, looking for his prey.
As expected, under the eaves of another shop not far away, Chi Lanyi was sheltering from the rain. The slender youth, lashes lowered, was tremblingly trying to light a cigarette.
The lighter was probably damp; the flint sparked repeatedly, but no flame ignited. Chi Lanyi became even more anxious. He bit his lip almost unconsciously, repeating the same action with high frequency, and put the pure white cigarette in his mouth again, even though it hadn’t started burning yet.
The cigarette placed in his mouth was soaked wet by his saliva.
Soon, it was completely saturated.
“Ding.”
A small blue flame illuminated the dark space under the eaves. Chi Lanyi turned his head as if startled. He saw the lighter in Gao Rong’s hand.
A Dupont lighter. The casing was a very cold metallic color. It looked more like a weapon than an accessory.
Chi Lanyi averted his gaze. He didn’t dare look into Gao Rong’s eyes and lowered his head.
Yet the blue flame kept burning, possessing an unyielding intensity in the stormy night.
After a long time, Chi Lanyi glanced up and quickly scanned over Gao Rong. He lowered his head again, and as if bewitched by the flame, he unthinkingly leaned over, cigarette in mouth.
Holding the cigarette between his lips, he used Gao Rong’s flame to light it.
What flooded his mouth was a light, slightly sweet taste, almost like the gentle fragrance of grass and paper being warmed by heat.
Chi Lanyi hurriedly turned his eyes away. He was very uncomfortable and used his hand to adjust his collar.
The spot where his collarbone was pressed by his fingers felt hot, as if what was pressing against him right now wasn’t his own fingers, but the assertive aura of this unfamiliar man, filling the cramped space under the shared eaves.
Chi Lanyi found it a bit hard to breathe. He thought again of when he was washing his hands that day, and this man’s stare at him in the mirror.
And behind the office plants, that man’s control over the situation from beginning to end.
Another “Ding” sounded, and what was lit this time was a dry, harsh, acrid smell.
It was like scorched smoke splitting open a throat—bitter, burnt, choking, carrying sparks, as if someone’s bones had been ruthlessly chewed up and then set on fire.
Chi Lanyi couldn’t help but cough. He felt his breathing was blocked by this scent of burning old wood. A powerful sense of oppression surged over him, and his instinct was to leave.
But the downpour pinned him in place. And somehow, perhaps because he could feel that man’s gaze constantly resting on him, he felt both fear and the urge to retreat, but also, faintly, an unwillingness to leave.
“You’re very afraid?”
The man suddenly said.
His voice was cold, deep, husky—just like the cigarette he smoked, hiding violent sparks. Chi Lanyi bit down on his cigarette and subconsciously shook his head.
“Is that so.” The man smiled meaningfully. “Liar.”
Chi Lanyi suddenly felt as if that man had seen right through him. He felt that the man’s gaze was like a sharp sword, capable of penetrating his disguise completely, reaching deep into the chaotic, damp interior he desperately protected.
And even, it was as if the man had already penetrated him before. That was why Chi Lanyi had such difficulty hiding his true form before this man.
Chi Lanyi decided once again to repay everything with cold indifference. He stared at the cold rain before him, imagining them as fluid lines falling from a human body.
Perhaps because his demeanor resembled extreme pallor and untamed silence. The lighter sounded “Ding” again.
“Have a taste.”
A white cigarette was extended before him. Gao Rong said: “You’ll like this kind of cigarette in the future.”
“…”
Perhaps because Gao Rong spoke too definitively, after a moment, Chi Lanyi took the cigarette from his own mouth and lowered his head, taking the cigarette from Gao Rong’s hand between his lips.
He bit it lightly, and the intense, bitter, hard flavor flooded his mouth, fierce and violent, as if the tobacco was being deep-throated.
Yet it was indeed stimulating, indeed scraping the throat. It was spicy like pepper, with almost no sweetness.
It brought Chi Lanyi an addictive, masochistic pleasure.
Just as Chi Lanyi was lost in thought about the taste of this cigarette, his left hand loosened.
Chi Lanyi turned his head abruptly. He saw, stunned, that Gao Rong had placed the cigarette he had bitten and moistened between his own lips.
The smoke in Chi Lanyi’s mouth seemed to become even harsher, even spicier. He stared blankly at Gao Rong’s action, at Gao Rong’s thin lips and sharply defined jaw.
Suddenly, a wave of heat washed over his entire body. He felt as if it was himself being held between Gao Rong’s lips.
It was as if he was being forced to raise his head, continuously watching Gao Rong’s actions. The soft, light smoke that had once filled his mouth must now also be filling Gao Rong’s oral cavity.
Just as the fiery, peppery smoke from Gao Rong’s mouth was also violating his throat.
“Sticky and wet.” He heard Gao Rong say. “Smells like you.”
As if lightning flashed down his spine, Chi Lanyi shuddered. He said, as if in protest: “It’s my first time… I don’t smoke this kind of cigarette.”
“I know.” Gao Rong looked at him darkly. “You love smoking Seven Stars.”
“Then… do you smoke them?” Chi Lanyi heard himself say.
Gao Rong slowly looked him up and down. Chi Lanyi noticed that Gao Rong’s gaze lingered for a long time on his waist and collarbone.
That predatory look made his whole body burn. Chi Lanyi’s ears buzzed as he heard Gao Rong say, just as slowly: “I don’t like it.”
“I feel like it’s a cigarette that only pretty women would like to smoke.”
Thunder rumbled through the curtain of rain. In Chi Lanyi’s mind, thunder boomed as well. He knew what was causing the thunder to explode throughout his body wasn’t the deliberately emphasized phrase “pretty women.”
But the intent of possession deliberately injected into those words by Gao Rong, and the look of undisguised aggression directed at him.
Chi Lanyi stepped back towards the rain curtain. Trembling, he just wanted to quickly leave Gao Rong’s side. Yet Gao Rong said at that moment: “Get in my car.”
“Go… go where?”
“Your apartment.” Gao Rong paused deliberately. “It’s raining. I’ll take you back.”
“…”
Chi Lanyi got into the Maybach in silence.
The spacious cabin held the scent of oud. This was an outsider’s vehicle cabin—steady, with a strong business air, expensive.
Gao Rong sat on his right—only an arm’s length away. Gao Rong was calm and restrained from beginning to end. After telling the driver Chi Lanyi’s apartment address, he said nothing more.
Gao Rong even knew his apartment address.
And the only thing Chi Lanyi currently knew was that Gao Rong’s surname was Gao, and Gao Rong was Gao Yuanzhou’s uncle.
Chi Lanyi had a strong feeling that he was about to step into thin air. He didn’t dare ask Gao Rong’s name, afraid that once he knew who Gao Rong was—he would be utterly beyond redemption.
The car finally traveled through this silent torment and reached Chi Lanyi’s apartment building. Under the dorm manager’s curious gaze, Chi Lanyi took the elevator without looking back and returned to his room.
He took off his coat and threw his shirt into the washing machine. But the scent of Short Liqun was extremely stubborn. He had only taken a few puffs, yet it clung to his clothes, his hair.
Perhaps, even his bones and flesh. Chi Lanyi showered countless times before bed, but still couldn’t stop the feeling of being marked from lingering on his skin.
Trembling, Chi Lanyi thought, could it be that Gao Rong wanted him?
The way Gao Rong took his cigarette was like a beautiful siege.
This feeling, difficult to be certain of, made Chi Lanyi afraid, yet also faintly, irresistibly captivated. He felt like a butterfly facing a rotting apple, knowing it was decaying, yet unable to resist the stimulation brought by its spoiled sweetness.
The more Chi Lanyi thought, the harder it was to fall asleep. Near dawn, he finally managed to expel Gao Rong from his thoughts.
But after leaving the rational world of Chi Lanyi, Gao Rong came again. Soon, Gao Rong appeared in his nightmares once more.
