Chapter 65: Typhoon

Around seven in the evening, inside the VIP lounge at Yuezhao Airport, Li Zhong stopped his brother-in-law from getting up to fetch some water. He headed to the bar himself.

Hua Hongqing, slumped limply in the wheelchair beside him, clicked his tongue. “Captain Yan, to think there’s a day when you’re this frail and need someone waiting on you hand and foot. Live long enough, and you’ll see anything. You’re hurting this bad, yet you insist on flying back overnight. Worried about that little imp of yours?”

Yan Tuo’s right temple was a swollen mass of red, and the anesthesia’s aftereffects had left him with a splitting headache. He couldn’t even be bothered to glance over. “He has a name. Bai Yiyi.”

By now, Hua Hongqing still hadn’t pieced together the full picture, but that didn’t stop him from grasping one earth-shattering secret: the ethereal young man who’d stirred Yan Tuo’s heart and bent him straight—er, bent him the other way—was one and the same as the little fairy who could be human or bird. That bird form seemed to be none other than Young Master Snow White, also known as Tangyuan, which he’d gifted to Yan out of friendship.

Recalling the boy’s appearance from their one brief meeting, Hua Hongqing felt a complicated mix of emotions he couldn’t quite name. He prodded deliberately. “Sigh. Last time, you said you weren’t cut out for keeping pets and asked me to take Young Master Snow White back. Does that offer still stand?”

Those reckless words immediately earned him a swift kick, though it lacked the usual force. It barely tickled, so he just grinned cheekily. “Tch, getting mad already? I’m your proper matchmaker here. Is this how you thank me?”

He wasn’t wrong. Yan Tuo finally turned to look at him squarely. “I’ll explain everything in detail when I have time. Just don’t let it slip in front of others. His situation can’t get out.”

Hua Hongqing grumbled, unconvinced. “Of course I know that. What do you take me for, an idiot?”

Yan Tuo added, “Also, when Yiyi came back asking for help, he left a note explaining things. I told my brother-in-law and sister it was your handwriting. Remember that.”

Before Hua Hongqing could respond, Li Zhong returned with the water, and Cao Yiman came back after handling the tickets. The two couldn’t continue the conversation.

Cao Yiman waved the boarding passes with a laugh. “Young Master Hua’s got style. First time for Old Cao in first class. I’ll have to put on a proper show later.”

Hua Hongqing had crossed paths with Cao Yiman a few times and knew him well enough. Since the man had come all the way from Y Province for his sake, Hua wasn’t about to skimp. Seeing Cao’s delight, he said with some regret, “If not for Captain Yan rushing back, I could’ve arranged a flight route for a private jet tomorrow. Sorry to rough it with you, Old Cao.”

Li Zhong set the warm water on the sofa armrest, his face full of disapproval as he lectured. “You really didn’t have to rush like this. The doctor said you and Hongqing were knocked out short-term at least six times. You should stay for observation a day or two. But no, you push yourself. Don’t think just because you’re young you can slack off. Once you’re home, get checked at the hospital again. Don’t leave any lingering issues.”

Yan Tuo downed the water in a few gulps, dousing the restless fire of anxiety in his chest. He smiled without replying.

How could he possibly stay away any longer?

Hearing that Tangyuan was hurt felt worse than all his own bruises.

How had the little one gotten injured? Where exactly? Would the wounds from its bird form carry over to human form? Was it still in pain now?

If he could, he’d use some miraculous transfer technique to take all that hurt onto himself. After all, his tough hide could take it better than his delicate-skinned boyfriend’s pale complexion.

Fortunately, the return trip went smoothly. The flight took off on time, and they landed in J City. By the time they reached Li Zhong’s home, it was about ten-thirty at night.

Yu Lian was waiting at the front door. Her eyes were red as she looked Yan Tuo over carefully from head to toe. She turned to fetch the family medicine kit from inside, intending to apply some pain-relieving, bruise-reducing ointment to the lump on her cousin’s forehead. But in that brief moment, by the time she returned to the living room, he was gone. She asked her husband, who said Yan Tuo had rushed off to find Tangyuan.

In the sunroom by the garden, a white fluffball lay curled sideways in its custom nest, fast asleep. Yan Tuo leaned in close and saw it clearly. He quickly shut his eyes, struck by the pitiful sight.

He took a moment to steady himself, then opened them again. Unable to resist, he reached out a hand.

He gently stroked the bandaged claw, ghosted his fingers over the patch of dark red on the wing—confirming it was just dried ointment—and finally caressed the bald little head with utmost tenderness.

Bai Yiyi wasn’t sleeping soundly. In his dreams, a deeply familiar scent approached—comforting, unique to one person alone.

He couldn’t open his eyes, unsure if he was still dreaming. From his lips came a soft murmur. “Yan Tuo.”

Yan Tuo’s heart melted into a puddle, but he couldn’t bear to wake him. He stilled his hand, simply gazing at the little ball in a daze, lost in thought.

By the time Yu Lian entered, she caught her cousin in that besotted, lovesick pose. She felt a twinge of oddness but didn’t dwell on it. She just called out for him to come get his medicine applied.

That night, Yan Tuo stayed at his cousin’s house. Exhaustion from days on end, his injuries, and the lingering anesthesia dragged him under the moment his head hit the pillow. He slept like the dead.

He didn’t wake until noon the next day.

Well-rested, he felt much better upon rising. Aside from the bruises aching when touched, he was almost back to normal.

He thought he’d slept plenty, but when he checked the sunroom, the white fluffball hadn’t stirred. He even worried something was wrong and considered taking it to the pet clinic.

Yu Lian teased him for fussing over nothing. Birds slept twelve hours or more all the time, especially when recovering from injury.

Yan Tuo wasn’t entirely convinced but sat down hesitantly at the table for a rare family lunch with his cousin and her husband.

The meal started warm and harmonious but ended in a tempest.

Halfway through, Yu Lian began her casual interrogation. “I took Tangyuan to Su Xiao yesterday. The girl helped bandage it up. I just mentioned you offhand, Tuozi. How come you haven’t been in touch since that one meeting?”

Yan Tuo paused briefly, grunted an acknowledgment, and shoveled his food faster.

If he didn’t hurry, he might not get to finish lunch.

Sure enough, the follow-ups came fast. “What’s the deal? Didn’t you say you liked her? During National Day, you even pooled time off with your brother-in-law to take your date on a hot spring vacation. Wasn’t it Su Xiao? Then who?”

Yan Tuo didn’t hide it. “His name’s Bai Yiyi. He studies art, paints. He’s a good kid—honest and sweet.”

Seeing her cousin come clean so readily, Yu Lian felt a pang of regret. She truly liked Su Xiao, but blood was thicker than water. No helping it if they weren’t meant to be.

She broke into a smile. “Thank goodness. Our Tuozi finally sees sense. Bai Yiyi, huh? Pretty name. Must be younger than you. Why call such a sweet girl ‘kid’?”

Yan Tuo set down his chopsticks, chewed and swallowed his rice thoroughly, then gathered his words. “Yeah, eight years younger. Fresh out of college a couple years ago. But… he’s not a girl. He’s a boy. Sis, I like guys.”

The air froze.

“Plop.”

A spoon slipped into the soup.

Li Zhong stared blankly at Yan Tuo for a moment before snapping out of it and fishing it out. He resumed sipping his soup as if nothing happened, though his eyes kept darting to his wife, silently praying the fallout wouldn’t be too disastrous.

Yu Lian’s smile lingered on her face, now rigid and unnatural. She drew several deep breaths before asking in disbelief, “A boy? Your… partner… is a guy?”

“Yes.”

Yan Tuo answered earnestly, then rubbed his temple for effect. The swelling from yesterday had subsided, now tinged with bruising—a reminder that he was still a patient who couldn’t take much strain.

Yu Lian had no attention to spare for sympathy now. That single “yes” from her cousin pierced her maternal heart like a thousand holes, or like a massive bomb casually tossed her way. Rage erupted uncontrollably.

Her hands slammed the table as she shot to her feet, demanding sharply, “Yan Tuo! You’re telling me you like men? Have you lost your mind? You’re the last bloodline of the Yan family, and your little aunt. So many people waiting for you to carry on the line. You’ve been picky all these years, and now you say you’re gay?”

Before he could reply, realization dawned. “Is it Hua Hongqing? Did he rub off on you? I’m going to his house right now to confront his dad. See if he has the face to lead you astray!”

Yan Tuo sighed helplessly. “Sis, what does Hongqing have to do with it? If he ‘rubbed off’ on me, I’d have bent back in high school. If you’re mad, yell at me. Don’t drag others in and embarrass everyone.”

The woman’s voice echoing through the dining room sharpened instantly. “You know about embarrassment? That’s the least of it. How do you face your parents who passed so young? The eight generations of Yan ancestors?”

Yu Lian was livid. She snatched up her chopsticks, wanting to strike but unable to bring herself to it. Instead, she jabbed them furiously against the table, creating a staccato “thud-thud-thud.”

After a long pause, as if after tremendous restraint, her tone softened into a plea. “Tuozi, can we fix this? No more liking guys, okay? How am I supposed to explain this to your aunt?”

Those words stirred up memories, and tears began to fall in big drops. She looked utterly heartbroken.

“I lost my mom at three. I don’t even remember her face. My first floral dress was sewn by your aunt. She braided my hair into twists every day for school. When I got my first period as a grown-up, she taught me, helped me through it. In my heart, she’s my real mom, and you’re my real brother.”

“Poor little aunt passed away so early, when you were just a half-grown kid. All these years, I’ve done everything in my power to repay the kindness she showed me by lavishing it all on you. Where have I gone wrong, that you’d do this to me? How am I supposed to face her after I’m gone? Am I to tell her I turned her son into a homosexual, leaving him childless and alone for the rest of his life? Tell me… you heartless bastard…”

Yan Tuo fell silent, any lingering shred of hope or slyness evaporating completely. Seeing his cousin cry so heartbrokenly filled him with a deep ache.

He couldn’t bring himself to make false promises, nor could he blame her for being out of touch with the times. After all, societal attitudes were what they were—most people still couldn’t accept homosexuality.

All he could do was explain patiently. “Sis, I know you’re doing this for my own good, but it’s innate, not some contagious disease. It can’t be changed. And besides, I’m not gay. If anything, call it monosexuality—I like him and only him. If he were a girl, I’d be into girls. It’s just that he’s a guy.”

Yu Lian hadn’t expected her tried-and-true pity ploy to fall flat. She realized right then that the man before her was dead set on this, just like when he’d stubbornly insisted on police academy despite everyone’s advice.

A surge of towering rage overtook her. She yanked the tablecloth with all her might, sending dishes, bowls, and chopsticks crashing to the floor in a clattering heap.

“I don’t care! I can’t accept it. If you stay with him… then don’t you ever set foot in this house again!”

With that hysterical sob, she refused to spare anyone another glance and stormed back upstairs to her bedroom.

Li Zhong surveyed the wreckage strewn across the floor and awkwardly set down his soup spoon, feeling obliged to smooth things over. “She’s hitting menopause—her temper’s enough to scare the life out of anyone.”

He muttered that last part, then conceded it wasn’t entirely her fault. Yan Tuo’s bombshell had rattled him too. For all his self-proclaimed worldly experience and unflappable calm, he’d been stunned speechless for a good long while.

“Sigh… you…”

He didn’t get to finish. The front door slammed open as Li Jue, fresh from school, arrived home—only to freeze in wide-eyed shock.

“Dad, what did you do to set Mom off this time? The place is trashed, and I haven’t even eaten yet.”

Li Zhong replied, “This one’s not on me. Ask your cousin.”

Li Jue put on an exaggerated look of surprise and shot back with a teasing grin. “Oh, the cousin who gets treated more like a son than I do? What unspeakable crime did you commit to make Mom hurl dishes at you?”

Yan Tuo polished off the last bite of rice in his bowl and replied calmly, “Nothing much. Just came out of the closet.”

“Out… of the closet?” Li Jue’s eyes bulged like a goldfish’s. Realization dawned instantly. He clapped Yan Tuo on the shoulder in a gesture of good luck and beat a hasty retreat to the entryway to grab his shoes. “Dad, tell Mom schoolwork’s swamping me for the next week… no, make it two. I won’t be back.”

Li Zhong said nothing, watching his son bolt out the door with naked envy. He wished he could hole up at the bureau for a week or two himself, sparing him the ordeal of tiptoeing through this typhoon’s aftermath.