Chapter 54

Yan Tuo returned from his meeting, and Bai Yiyi immediately called out to his boyfriend, saying he’d suddenly gotten some inspiration and wanted to tweak his artwork a bit before flying back to the apartment alone.

It had been nearly a month and a half since they’d returned from H City. The time he could spend in human form was so limited that most of it went toward cleaning and cooking, leaving this nearly finished painting to be wrapped up in a rush.

But now that it was time to put the finishing touches on it, he kept feeling like something was missing. With one stroke of the brush, three hours vanished in the blink of an eye.

Fortunately, he’d had a decent stockpile of points left before, enough to spare around seventy.

The next day, he repeated the process and finally achieved a level of satisfaction. On the third day, He Ze arrived right on schedule to pick up the painting—but when Bai Yiyi tried to shift back to human form with a mere thought, nothing happened. He stared in shock.

It turned out that those six hours over two days had drained him right back below the passing line, leaving him with just fifty-six points. He was stuck in bird form for the time being.

With no other choice, he sent out a call for help to his boyfriend.

By seven in the evening, the autumn night had already plunged into total darkness. He Ze followed the address in the message and knocked on the door of apartment 607.

The man who answered was extraordinarily tall. He Ze’s own height of 180 centimeters was impressive enough down south, but even he felt an overwhelming pressure bearing down from above.

A closer look revealed it wasn’t just the height. The man’s handsome features and commanding presence combined to form a crushing wave of intimidation.

He had the look of a stern, unyielding tough guy, yet a tiny canary perched on his shoulder somehow didn’t clash at all. If anything, it added a touch of liveliness, preventing the atmosphere from feeling too oppressive.

“Sorry, I’m looking for Bai Yiyi. And you are?”

Yan Tuo gave him a quick once-over. His boyfriend’s old classmate was dressed in full artsy style: shoulder-length hair tied back in a low ponytail, a decorative silk scarf knotted at the collar of his button-up shirt. He was reasonably good-looking, so Yan Tuo responded politely. “He Ze, right? Please, come in.”

He Ze stepped inside. The forty-ping bachelor apartment was small enough to take in at a glance, and there was no sign of Bai Yiyi.

The host had set a bottle of mineral water on the coffee table in front of the sofa and gestured for him to sit. He Ze hesitated before lowering himself onto the cushion, then couldn’t help pressing, “Where’s Yiyi? We had an appointment.”

Yan Tuo replied, “He’s out on some business and not home right now. You’re just here for the painting, right? He already told me about it. Give me a moment, and I’ll get it for you.”

He Ze could hardly sit still. The moment Yan Tuo turned away, he sprang up from the sofa and trailed after him.

There, on the easel by the bedroom window, sat the painting titled Autumn, brimming with lush greens. He Ze let out a breath of relief. As the man carefully removed the canvas, packaged it up, he took the opportunity to scan the small bedroom. His expression soured immediately.

“Yiyi’s been staying here this whole time? And you… you’re staying here too? Just the one bed?”

“Yeah. What’s the problem?”

Something in those words must have struck a nerve, because He Ze exploded like a bomb. “He’s gay, you know! Didn’t you realize? And you’re still letting him get this close?”

Yan Tuo’s face grew a shade colder. “What’s there to be afraid of? Is it that strange? So am I.”

It finally dawned on He Ze. “You? You’re his… boyfriend?”

He looked utterly devastated, then shook his head in denial. “No way! Absolutely impossible. You two didn’t even know each other before. Apart from Shi You, who else does he have as a friend? Let alone a boyfriend.

“In just three months, with that coward’s nerve, he’s suddenly shacking up with you? Ditching his mom and his whole life to come all the way to J City? No chance. You’re lying. I want to wait for him to come back and hear it from him myself.”

With a huff, he whipped out his phone. His hands shook so badly that he mistyped the number two or three times before finally connecting the call.

A familiar ringtone chimed from the living room tabletop. He Ze stared at the hand-drawn “Bai” on the phone case, his face twisting even further.

He whirled around, teeth gritted. “Where the hell is Yiyi? He goes out without his phone? You… you knew I was coming today, didn’t you? You hid him because he’s scared to face me?”

Yan Tuo leaned the wrapped painting against the sofa back and set it down, his fingers drumming idly on the frame. He was genuinely baffled by this intense reaction.

Just an old classmate of his boyfriend’s—and now a business associate, at that. The guy already knew Bai Yiyi’s orientation, so what was the big deal about him dating someone? Why the total meltdown?

Anyone who didn’t know better might think this was an ex showing up to vent about getting dumped.

Yan Tuo glanced at the little white fluffball on his shoulder. The bird sat there with its beak slightly agape, looking just as stunned. Clearly, it hadn’t expected its old classmate to act like this behind closed doors.

Watching He Ze pace frantically, as if ready to tear the place apart in search of someone, sparked a new thought in Yan Tuo’s mind. He tested the waters. “My relationship with Yiyi is none of your business, is it? Unless… you like him?”

It was like hitting pause. The frantic man froze, his face rigid, features distorting.

Then, as if fast-forwarding, he bellowed, “I’m not some damn gay! I’m not! I’m not…”

He wasn’t sure if it was an explanation or self-persuasion. He started off shouting, but his voice trailed off to a near whisper by the end. The glare he shot over was suddenly venomous.

“But Yiyi is mine. I’m his only friend—only me. He won’t like anyone else.”

Yan Tuo nearly laughed out of sheer exasperation. He countered coolly, “He won’t like anyone else? What about that senior he crushed on back in his junior year? Didn’t he even write him a confession letter?”

He Ze let out a faint smile, which looked wildly out of place amid the malice on his face. “So what? He wrote it and chickened out for over a week without sending it. I just took it, and he figured it was fate that it got lost. Never mustered the courage again.”

“You stole his letter?” Coldness seeped from Yan Tuo’s eyes, spreading outward.

Even from his position, he’d have preferred that love letter vanished—but for someone to actually do it like that showed blatant disrespect toward Bai Yiyi. He was getting angry.

He Ze shrugged it off. “I did it for his own good. That senior? He used the school festival speech to come out publicly—just a ploy for attention, with bad intentions. All to lure in naive little freshmen who throw themselves at him. What good could come of Yiyi offering himself up?”

“He can judge that for himself. What right do you have to interfere?”

He Ze answered as if it were obvious. “Yiyi’s so innocent, and such a scaredy-cat. Without me protecting him since we were kids, who knows what would’ve happened. How long have you even known him? Easy for you to say.”

Yan Tuo cut straight to the heart. “Protecting him? Or controlling him? ‘Protecting’ him until he has no friends but you?”

“You…” He Ze faltered, then dropped the pretense. “I’ve known him for almost twenty years. Who the hell are you? Hand him over, or I’ll call the cops right now.”

Yan Tuo pulled his police badge from the briefcase on the table and slapped it down on the coffee table with a smack. “Go ahead and call. Know the penalty for filing a false report? Want me to give you a rundown?”

He Ze’s eyes darted between the badge and Yan Tuo’s face, disbelief etched on his features. “You’re… a cop?”

A moment later, realization dawned, and he sneered. “Figures. Yiyi’s got a massive uniform fetish—you must be reeling him in with that face and that badge. What’s the point of hiding him now? Wait till his mom gets back; you think he’ll just abandon her?

“His dad died young. His mom’s the one who’s been working her ass off in H City to raise him, handling everything. No way he’ll ditch her. You think this’ll last? If you’re smart, convince him to go home now. What, you gonna pamper a goldfinch in this dump?”

As the mockery spilled out, he suddenly noticed the bird on Yan Tuo’s shoulder. His bluster deflated, and he corrected himself lamely, “Gold… golden phoenix!”

This time, Yan Tuo truly laughed. He found himself losing interest in sparring with someone of this intellect. “You don’t need to worry about me and Yiyi. The painting—do you want it or not? Keep talking, and I’ll pretend you were never here.”

With that, he picked up the painting from the sofa and made as if to rip open the packaging.

He Ze panicked, lunging forward to grab the other end of the frame. “I want it, of course! I was just warning you about you and Yiyi…”

“Put it down, or take the painting and shut up and get out!” Yan Tuo snapped, his full aura unleashing in an instant.

He Ze jolted in fright, mindful of the precious artwork in his hands. He said no more, clutched the packaged frame, and stormed out the door. Before he left, he shot back a vicious glare that ruined his carefully cultivated artistic vibe entirely.

“What kind of friends does he even have…”

Yan Tuo shut the door, intending to vent a bit, but the sight of the dejected little bird stopped him cold. He switched to reassurance instead. “It’s okay now. When your mom gets back, I’ll go with you to explain everything clearly. Whatever happens—beating or whatever—they can come at me. I won’t let it trouble you.”

That wasn’t what was bothering Bai Yiyi—or at least, not urgently so.

The emotions churning inside him had reached a boiling point of humiliation. He never could have imagined that the letter he’d thought was lost had actually been stolen by He Ze on purpose—and used as blackmail ever since. And now, the bastard was planning to pass off Yiyi’s hard work as his own to make a name for himself internationally?

Unable to hold back any longer, he spilled the entire backstory to his owner, from beginning to end.

Yan Tuo was utterly speechless; he hadn’t expected this person to be so disgustingly vile. If he’d known earlier, why bother giving him the painting? A few slaps across the face would have been letting him off lightly.

…No, he still had to give it.

In just this half minute, a plan had already taken shape in his mind. Simply refusing to hand over the work would be letting him off too easily. Since this guy wanted to shoot straight to the green clouds so badly, he’d gift him that ascent to the green clouds. When he reached the highest, most dazzling peak, he’d nail him permanently to the pillar of shame.

Turning to glance at his bewildered little boyfriend, he couldn’t bring himself to say harsh words and could only calmly deliver some family education: “You’ve been PUA’d.”

Bai Yiyi said in surprise: “PUA? No way, later he begged me, even bringing up the kindness of taking care of me when I was little. I really didn’t want to see him end up ruined and infamous, so I softened for a moment and agreed.”

“It’s not just emotional control between the sexes that counts as PUA—it can happen between friends too. Whether the attitude is scolding, suppression, or pleading, as long as they use words to manipulate you and achieve their goal, it qualifies as PUA. Think back on it yourself—isn’t that the truth?”

Moreover, that He Ze might not have purely platonic feelings. From today’s behavior, it was clear he’d crossed the boundary of friendship. It was just fear of homosexuality—or fear of public scrutiny—holding him back; he only wanted to exclusively possess Bai Yiyi but never dared admit it.

Naturally, Yan Tuo wouldn’t share this observed truth with his little boyfriend. Rivals in love, big or small, good or bad—block as many as you can and show no mercy.

The tactics were executed perfectly, but alas, heaven throws curveballs. No matter how many heads and arms Captain Yan grew, he couldn’t withstand the heavens’ deliberate torment.

In his view, forget this He Ze who hid control behind the guise of friendship—even that unnamed senior should have been fleeting cannon fodder, gone in one ear and out the other. But who knows what evil they collided with; from 108,000 miles away, they kept dancing right up to his doorstep one after another.