Zhu Ran couldn’t vomit, but Huo Boyan stood guard beside him. The tiny bathroom was cramped with two people; it was hard even to turn around.
Zhu Ran pretended to wash his face. When he looked up with water still on it, he suddenly realized Huo Boyan was watching him.
The bathroom was so small that Huo Boyan stood right behind him. Any movement and they’d bump. Dim spotlights from above cast obvious shadows below Huo Boyan’s brow bone. Zhu Ran realized then that Huo Boyan’s features were very sharp and cold when he wasn’t smiling—nothing like his usual gentlemanly mildness.
Being stared at like that made Zhu Ran’s back crawl. He was about to speak when Huo Boyan lit a cigarette and called “Zhu Ran” not too lightly or heavily.
“What?” Zhu Ran inexplicably felt a bit scared.
Huo Boyan looked down, somewhat displeased. “Didn’t I tell you not to go off with strangers after drinking?”
For some reason, a fire suddenly ignited in Zhu Ran’s heart.
Huo Boyan flirted with others and he didn’t care, so what right did he have to lecture him like some elder?
Zhu Ran shot back, “Didn’t I go off with you?”
Huo Boyan paused, then said, “I’m different from them.”
Zhu Ran snorted coldly. “Who knows if you’re different.”
Huo Boyan didn’t explain further. He tossed the cigarette into the trash and turned to Zhu Ran. “Forget it. I’ll take you home.”
Zhu Ran blurted out, “I’m not going back.”
Huo Boyan’s movements froze. He slowly raised his head, his gaze deep and intense, bearing down so heavily that Zhu Ran could barely handle it.
Zhu Ran himself was stunned too. His personality was cool, but he rarely lost his temper; everyone thought he was easygoing. Yet in front of Huo Boyan, he always broke character.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him—always wanting to tease or contradict in front of Huo Boyan.
“I…” Zhu Ran wanted to backtrack and say forget it, but Huo Boyan cut him off with “Fine.”
Zhu Ran looked up in a daze and heard Huo Boyan say, “After midnight, you listen to me.”
“Dong—dong—”
Clock chimes rang from outside, and the wall clock showed midnight.
Zhu Ran never answered Huo Boyan directly, nor did he refuse outright.
He wiped his face with a paper towel and got into the car with Huo Boyan.
Compared to the sports car Huo Boyan had driven earlier, this one was much longer and more private. A partition rose in the middle, making it almost like an independent room.
The stretched limousine drove toward an unknown destination. Zhu Ran sat on the soft lambskin cushion, catching the warm scent from Huo Boyan’s body.
Huo Boyan pulled out a carton of milk from somewhere and placed it in Zhu Ran’s hand. “Drink it.”
Zhu Ran glanced at it and shook his head. “Don’t want to.”
Huo Boyan twisted off the cap and put the bottle back in his hand. “Drink it; you’ll feel better.”
Zhu Ran still shook his head and set the milk on the partition in front.
He seemed to have awakened a new hobby: provoking Huo Boyan’s composure.
Huo Boyan stopped persuading. He took out a cigarette and bit it, looking at Zhu Ran with a half-smile. “Not drinking? Want me to feed you?”
At that moment, Huo Boyan’s smile looked anything but nice. Zhu Ran didn’t know what got into him—maybe just not wanting to lose—and countered, “What, does Mr. Huo want to feed me?”
Huo Boyan didn’t respond, and the air went still.
Zhu Ran had a rebellious heart but had never done anything too outrageous—not even skipped class. He was all bark, no bite. Saying something like that already pushed his limits, let alone going back and forth.
The excessive silence made Zhu Ran unable to hold out. He felt the verbal sparring was pointless, so he magnanimously smiled, saying he was just joking, and reached for the milk bottle.
Huo Boyan moved faster. He snatched the bottle first, pinched Zhu Ran’s chin with his other hand, pressed his knee between Zhu Ran’s legs, and pressed the bottle mouth to Zhu Ran’s lips.
Zhu Ran froze from the sequence of actions. He stared wide-eyed at Huo Boyan, his heartbeat instantly thrown into chaos.
“Open your mouth.” Huo Boyan half-knelt in front of him, slightly lifting his chin. “Drink it down.”
Huo Boyan fed him very gentlemanly, but left no room for refusal.
Zhu Ran’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the liquid from Huo Boyan’s hand nonstop.
The protein’s fishy, bland taste filled his nose and taste buds, mixed with Huo Boyan’s woody scent and the car’s faint leather aroma—like a debauched dream.
Zhu Ran’s eyes went unfocused, his Adam’s apple rolling nonstop, yet he still couldn’t swallow it all.
He grabbed Huo Boyan’s wrist with both hands, his peach-blossom eyes misty with moisture, looking utterly bullied. As if he really couldn’t take it, he tugged Huo Boyan’s sleeve, let out a kittenish hum, and shook his head pleadingly.
Huo Boyan finally stopped, but his gaze stayed on Zhu Ran’s lips, his breathing gradually deepening.
Zhu Ran finally got a break and shrank into the farthest corner.
Huo Boyan took back the bottle and said calmly, “Want me to continue?”
If Zhu Ran hadn’t seen the milk carton crushed in his hand, he might have thought Huo Boyan was truly unaffected.
Zhu Ran wanted to call him a hypocrite, but the earlier lesson was fresh, and he feared making it worse.
Zhu Ran took a deep breath, snatched the remaining half bottle, and said, “No need, I’ll drink it myself.”
He drank too fast and got some on his T-shirt.
Huo Boyan disapproved, took the bottle away, and said, “Can’t finish it? Then don’t drink.”
Hypocrite.
Zhu Ran looked up defiantly. “So fierce earlier, now acting all magnanimous?”
Huo Boyan didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. He wiped the milk stain from Zhu Ran’s lips and said flatly, “Who told you to keep provoking me.”
