Jing Deyu and Huo Fei called out “Big Bro” with their family names prefixed, and the pretty boy followed suit. Surprisingly, Bao Song called out “President Dai.”
Lai Li turned back for a glance. Hadn’t this stuntman glared at him earlier…
Jing Deyu suddenly remembered, “I forgot to tell you—my guy Bao Song has a small role in that drama your brother invested in.”
Lai Li turned around and leaned against the billiards table, draping an arm around Dai Linxuan’s shoulder from behind as he scoffed, “Sleeping your way into a role?”
Bao Song replied neither humbly nor arrogantly, “Young Master Lai might not know, but for small actors like us, we might only have a few days of shooting in a long production cycle. If we don’t take other gigs, we’ll starve.”
Lai Li didn’t spare his dignity at all. “And you have a producer backing you…”
“Shall we all have a drink?” Jing Deyu knew nothing good ever came out of Lai Li’s mouth, so he quickly interrupted and called over a familiar server. “Xiao Ka! Open another bottle of Commanderie de la Bargemone over here!”
He Xunzhang suddenly grew curious. “Linxuan, what’s the genre of that new script you invested in? The rumors outside are blowing it out of proportion—they say the entire cast signed NDAs.”
“You’ll know when it airs,” Dai Linxuan said casually as he swirled his wine glass. “You probably won’t like it anyway.”
He Xunzhang chuckled in disbelief. “Impossible. If you like it, I’ll definitely like it too.”
“Why talk about scripts here!” Huo Fei slung an arm around the pretty boy and waved his hand grandly. “Let’s play together. Perfect—the tables are right next to each other.”
He Xunzhang’s mouth twitched as he tried to decline. “My brother and your sister will be here soon. We might not have enough tables…”
“That’ll make it even livelier.” Huo Fei whistled. “Big Bro Dai, let me tell you—my sister’s billiards skills are killer. She could totally go toe-to-toe with Lai Li!”
Jing Deyu smacked his forehead. This idiot, stop mangling idioms!
He Xunzhang was so exasperated he almost laughed, but with things as they were, he could only accept reality. “Out of the loop, huh? Little Chestnut’s billiards were taught by Big Bro Dai here. I was hoping he’d teach Wen Yi too.”
Huo Fei’s eyes darted around. “Big Bro He, which little brother is this? Have I seen him somewhere before?”
Before he could do anything, the pretty boy pinched him. “Thinking of moving on to someone else right in front of me? Not cool.”
“Ow, what are you talking about!” Huo Fei ate that up. “I just want to take on a little brother.”
Wen Yi exuded the fresh, shy aura of a young boy. He spoke very little and looked at everyone timidly.
Lai Li leaned bonelessly against his brother and drawled lazily, “A newbie might not suit my brother’s teaching style.”
He Xunzhang asked, “So what’s that mean?”
Lai Li suggested, “I haven’t played in ages and my skills are rusty, but teaching a newbie should be fine.”
Dai Linxuan’s dangling hand tightened as he shot Lai Li a glance.
Huo Fei mouthed: What’s this ancestor up to now?
Jing Deyu shook his head in silent reply: Who the hell knows!
“Little brother teaches little brother? Works for me.” He Xunzhang winked. “You’d better teach him well—Wen Yi’s first time is in your hands.”
Billiards lessons could be gentlemanly and professional, or intimate and full of cheap thrills, depending on the coach and the student’s tolerance.
He Xunzhang waved over a server to rack the balls.
“You guys play snooker,” Huo Fei said. “Leave the eight-ball table to us.”
He Xunzhang pointed out, “Wen Yi’s a newbie.”
Huo Fei shrugged it off. “So what? Newbies just practice stance and stroke feel at first. You don’t expect a full game right away, do you?”
He Xunzhang had nothing to say. With the comparison, even He Shuxin seemed agreeable by contrast.
Wen Yi didn’t understand these things. Once the balls were racked, he stood nervously by the table. “What do I do?”
Lai Li taught fairly seriously, his tone even-tempered. “Step forward with your left foot, pivot your hips a bit to the right… Good. Extend your left arm, bend at the waist.”
Wen Yi followed each instruction, though some positions weren’t quite right.
Lai Li stepped forward, pried open Wen Yi’s fingers, and positioned the cue at the base of his thumb. “Lift it up, steady the cue—keep this arm perpendicular to the ground.”
A faint smile hung on Dai Linxuan’s face as he sipped his red wine lightly. His gaze followed Lai Li’s fingertips as they brushed Wen Yi’s hand and arm.
Wen Yi took several shots, the balls rolling only a bit faster than a turtle crawling.
“Your power’s off,” Lai Li said from behind Wen Yi, his peripheral vision meeting Dai Linxuan’s stare.
After another miss, Lai Li bent down. At first glance, it looked like he was pressed against Wen Yi. Just before he could cover Wen Yi’s hand for hands-on instruction, Dai Linxuan’s mild voice came from the side. “Wenhai and Shuangshuang are here, Little Chestnut. Go say hi.”
Lai Li straightened up as if nothing had happened and just nodded at the newcomers.
“Whoa, so many people?” Huo Wenhai said in surprise. “Didn’t Little Fei go test a new racetrack route?”
Huo Fei spread his hands. “Thanks to someone, it ended before we even hit the road.”
There was no need to hide the racetrack incident—the older siblings would hear about it soon enough.
Huo Shuang wore a long-sleeved shirt and pants perfect for billiards, neat and efficient. She greeted everyone, including Bao Song.
Huo Fei whistled again. “Sis, you’re looking fierce today!”
Huo Shuang glanced at him and laughed. “All you do is sweet-talk.”
Huo Fei ditched the pretty boy and sidled up. “Sis, you know Big Bro Dai’s got killer skills too. Wanna have a match?”
“I know that full well,” Huo Shuang said, brushing him off. “You were still in diapers when your Big Bro Dai and I played together.”
They’d gone to the same high school and even the same class. The school had plenty of recreational facilities, including billiards, and that’s where they’d honed their skills.
The two played a quick game, the scores neck-and-neck.
Dai Linxuan dressed casually that day, in a black silk shirt tucked neatly into his pants.
When he bent over, the black shirt draped down, outlining his taut, elegant waistline… A bit further back was the smooth, full curve of his hips.
Lai Li slowly lowered his eyelids. Dai Linxuan’s ankle peeked out from his straight-legged stance, slender and pale against the black pant cuffs.
Crack!
The final colored ball dropped into the pocket.
Dai Linxuan straightened with a soft smile. “Barely won.”
He Xunzhang watched with a headache. “You two playing house? That was so obvious—you let her off easy enough to flood the Dragon King’s Temple.”
“Too many people around—couldn’t cut loose,” Huo Wenhai said, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s take the little bros for some other fun.”
Jing Deyu and Bao Song were deep into a game of Chinese eight-ball nearby, so the “little bros” meant the onlookers: Wen Yi, Lai Li, and Huo Fei.
Lai Li had no objections and followed Huo Wenhai’s lead.
In his peripheral vision, Dai Linxuan watched Lai Li’s retreating back, but he faced Huo Shuang. “We’ve played so many matches back in the day—aren’t you bored of it?”
Huo Shuang played along. “How do you wanna play?”
Dai Linxuan called out to the departing group. “Little Fei said he’s not great at snooker, and Little Chestnut hasn’t played in ages. How about we each coach one for a match?”
Huo Shuang had never done a multiplayer game. “How does that work?”
“One cue per person—miss a shot, switch to the other coach,” Dai Linxuan said with a lip curl. “Verbal guidance allowed, and you can step up too.”
Lai Li’s eyelid twitched.
Huo Fei turned back in confusion, pointing at himself. “Me? Alright…”
Huo Wenhai and He Xunzhang exchanged a glance and decided to stay and watch, ordering more bottles of wine.
The first game ended without much drama. Lai Li barely missed, and though Huo Fei struggled, he wasn’t hopeless. He actually synced up with Huo Shuang’s comeback to win the game.
Dai Linxuan tilted his head with a smile. “We’d better step it up.”
This game, Huo Fei broke. It wasn’t long before the first miss happened.
Lai Li had changed out of his racing suit before coming, wearing his outing clothes: jeans with a white base layer, topped by an open caramel short leather jacket.
When he bent over, the leather jacket shifted up toward his shoulders with his muscles, faintly revealing the lines of his waist.
For some reason, Dai Linxuan thought of a sleek, beautiful black panther—hardly oversized, yet brimming with explosive power.
Even though Lai Li wasn’t wearing black that day.
Even though he’d promised to hold back and try to let go.
Dai Linxuan had tried to put Lai Li back in the “little brother” role, but only now did he realize his gaze had changed two years ago. It had long been tainted with an adult’s scrutiny, backed by restrained, suppressed, ugly desire.
No going back.
Even if he went blind, some essences couldn’t return to their pure state.
And Lai Li? After everything lately, could he still see him as his old brother?
The fragmented night two years ago could be forgotten, but everything since his return—especially when Lai Li was sober—every encounter begged the question: What was Lai Li thinking?
Did he want to turn him back into a normal brother? Or had the “brother” label in Lai Li’s heart already crumbled, tangled with nauseating, base love and desire?
Crack!
Lai Li missed; the cue ball didn’t pocket the corner black. Switch to Huo Shuang.
Lai Li walked over to Dai Linxuan and stopped, downing his wine in one gulp.
Both watched Huo Shuang take her shot, but their minds wandered elsewhere.
Dai Linxuan’s hand hung at his side, occasionally brushing Lai Li’s warm handback. He should move it—switch hands for his glass or step away to create distance.
But he did nothing, quietly savoring this intimacy only they could feel.
If you can’t see him as a brother anymore, why indulge him like before? Give him what he wants, take back what he doesn’t? A month ago, you wanted to drag him to hell with you.
Why should ignorance excuse sin?
Lai Li’s questioning voice came from beside him. “What’s the deal with that Wen Yi?”
Dai Linxuan lifted his glass to his lips. “He Xunzhang’s cousin.”
“Obviously.” Irritation clouded Lai Li’s features. “I mean, why’s he here?”
Dai Linxuan remained unmoved. “Ask his cousin, then.”
The Huo siblings cleared the reds down to six, and Huo Shuang glanced their way—then made a surprisingly basic error.
Dai Linxuan lightly adjusted the cue, chalked the tip, bent over, and struck precisely.
“Little Chestnut.”
They alternated turns, clearing reds and then colors until only the final one remained. The score was razor-close.
The ball was awkwardly positioned, tricky to hit. Lai Li studied the angle for a moment and was about to strike when a hand landed on his tailbone, patting lightly twice.
Dai Linxuan stood at his side-rear, leg pressed to his, hips nudging his ass—even grinding faintly.
Lai Li stiffened, heat surging below his waist. With a warning edge, he twisted back and hissed lowly, “Bro!”
Dai Linxuan acted oblivious as he bent fully over him. His palm pressed to the back of Lai Li’s hand to steady the cue, while his other arm hugged tight along Lai Li’s, gripping the butt end. Even through the leather jacket, their body heat mingled inescapably, breaths indistinguishable.
Dai Linxuan brushed Lai Li’s ear like an accidental kiss. “Miss this one, and we lose. Relax.”
Lai Li’s mind blanked on the tingling in his ear, fixated on one thought—Did anyone see?
Dai Linxuan lifted his chin and turned to Huo Shuang. “You’ve taken plenty of shots; this is my first. Fair, right?”
Huo Shuang eyed their intimate pose and smiled faintly. “Of course.”
Lai Li struggled to breathe. He furrowed his brows, bit his lip, and muttered so only they could hear, “Bro, so many people around—watch it.”
“So what?” Dai Linxuan eyed the cue ball and murmured softly, “Weren’t you about to teach Wen Yi like this?”
“…”
“Can’t I teach you this way?” Dai Linxuan’s cheek stuck to Lai Li’s ear, his gentle smile vibrating against it itchily.
With undeniable force, he guided Lai Li’s stroke together—crack!
The final seven-point black ball pocketed cleanly.
Dai Linxuan rose leisurely. “Barely won again.”
Lai Li tamped down his ragged breath, face darkening as he shoved his brother aside and stalked off without a word. “I’m hitting the bathroom.”
