Chapter 13 Part 2

His first thought: so slender. Zhu Ran’s wrist bones dug into his palm, prickly like the guy himself. But up close, Huo Junlin caught a fresh lemon scent, recalling Zhu Ran drenched in the pool a week ago.

Youthful, damp, tangy, ambiguous…

As if bewitched, Huo Junlin instinctively craved more.

He saw Zhu Ran’s lips moving but blocked out the words, fixated on those soft pink lips.

Huo Junlin leaned closer…

“Huo Junlin, what are you doing?” A cold, deep voice sounded. Zhu Ran stared at him expressionlessly.

Huo Junlin snapped back. Just being looked at like that was already indecent.

They’d been apart a full week; Huo Junlin felt like he was going mad, dreaming of Zhu Ran every night before bed. He’d returned to Hong Kong Island early against his big brother’s wishes, then got Aunt Lin via Lin Zilang to send two museum tickets to lure Zhu Ran here.

He’d planned to view it together, not expecting an extra stranger.

Who was that guy? Why so chummy with Zhu Ran?

Thinking of their intimate interactions irked Huo Junlin. Why could they be close? Why not him?

Still gripping Zhu Ran’s wrist, Huo Junlin blurted, “Zhu Ran, do you like guys? Then I…”

“Mr. Huo—” Zhu Ran suddenly called out.

Huo Junlin looked up to see his brother had arrived.

Huo Boyan’s gaze fell on Zhu Ran’s reddened wrist, then to Huo Junlin’s face. “Junlin, what are you doing?”

Huo Junlin froze, loosening his grip but not letting go. Like a wolf cub finally catching prey, wary of the alpha but refusing to release, he defended, “Bro, I…”

Zhu Ran seized the chance to wrench free and duck behind Huo Boyan.

Huo Junlin hadn’t expected this; he blinked, then saw Huo Boyan raise a hand in a protective gesture.

A sour feeling stirred in Huo Junlin. Realizing he’d missed his shot, he asked, “Bro, why’re you here?”

“Some new shipments arriving,” Huo Boyan said before he could continue. “You’re here rarely; we’ve got fresh exhibits. I’ll have a guide show you around.”

Huo Junlin grew flustered—he had no interest in exhibits—and asked Zhu Ran, “I got a new convertible. Wanna cruise the coastal highway?”

Zhu Ran without hesitation: “Go by yourself.”

Seeing no hope, Huo Junlin left dejectedly.

After Huo Junlin’s disruption, Zhu Ran lost interest. Heading toward the exit, he was drawn to a sculpture near the door.

On a white marble pedestal sat a pair of nude lovers, the hard marble gleaming like skin in the sunlight. Bathed in soft afternoon rays, they kissed passionately, oblivious to the world.

“Dante described these lovers in The Divine Comedy,” Huo Boyan said slowly from behind. “Francesca and her husband’s brother Paolo had an affair. The husband discovered it and killed them both in rage. In death, their souls wander hell eternally.”

Zhu Ran examined it closely, then looked up. “But they look so happy.”

“Happy? To me, they’re just lost in desire.” Huo Boyan seemed mildly disagreeing, discussing calmly. “Such unchecked desire led them to hell.”

Zhu Ran was surprised. “Didn’t peg you for a pessimist.”

“Isn’t it true?” Huo Boyan said. “Human desires breed hatred, death, suffering. That so-called happiness is just an illusion before death.”

In the overly air-conditioned postmodern art museum, Huo Boyan’s expression turned exceptionally cold.

Zhu Ran was a bit startled, sensing something off, and retorted instinctively, “Desire itself isn’t wrong, nor is pursuing happiness. The fault lies in letting desire balloon, ignoring others’ well-being for your own.”

Huo Boyan suddenly laughed, his gaze like one looking at a naive child.

Zhu Ran disliked that look and frowned. “What’s so funny?”

Huo Boyan: “Your ideal is lovely, but it’s just the powerless dreaming of the powerful.”

Zhu Ran opened his mouth to argue, but Huo Boyan grabbed his hand, pressing his palm against the sculpture without a word.

So cold.

Zhu Ran jumped at the sensation, staring shocked. Huo Boyan leaned to his ear, so close it looked like a kiss.

Zhu Ran froze, barely daring to breathe.

“Zhu Ran, feel it carefully,” Huo Boyan murmured from behind, almost seductively. “If this sculpture were yours, if you had the power to do as you wished, what would you do?”

His voice was low and rich, like a patient guide. But to Zhu Ran, Huo Boyan seemed like a devil tempting him to fall.

Zhu Ran had never touched a sculpture; every exhibit he’d seen forbade it.

This one looked priceless—did the owner allow touching?

Zhu Ran struggled. “Huo Boyan, let go!”

“But don’t you want to?” Huo Boyan whispered in his ear, like a murmuring devil. “Don’t you want to stroke it, grasp it, feel the skin’s texture with your palm?”

Zhu Ran felt ashamed for the thought, yet couldn’t resist the tactile pull.

The sculptor had carved marble like skin, making Zhu Ran briefly imagine stone could be as soft and fine as human flesh.

But touching it himself, he realized it wasn’t.

The warm-looking sculpture felt hard and icy, like clutching ice.

Sculpture could never match real flesh—wonder if real muscle felt good… At that moment, Huo Boyan pressed over his hand, fingers interlacing with Zhu Ran’s, his overly hot palm gradually warming Zhu Ran’s skin.

The visual impact was overwhelming; Zhu Ran thought of something, blushing and lowering his head in shame.

He pushed Huo Boyan away again, breaking free easily this time.

“See,” Huo Boyan stepped back, smiling. “You can’t control your desires either.”

Author’s Note:

Just to clarify, this is Huo Boyan’s own art museum and exhibits, so he can go wild. They’d be very civilized viewing others’ shows—no touching.