Bao Song at the next table caught sight of the scene and nearly gaped in an O-shape. “Xiao Yu, President Dai and his little brother…”
Jing Deyu frowned, looking thoughtful. “Shut up.”
Bao Song couldn’t hold back. “Are they committing incest or something?”
Jing Deyu nearly scared himself into a heart attack. He tossed his cue aside and clamped a hand over Bao Song’s mouth. “You really don’t watch the news, do you? They’re not blood brothers!”
Fortunately, no one else heard. Everyone else looked perfectly normal, as if they hadn’t given that moment a second thought.
Aside from Huo Shuang, who had been abroad for twelve years, the others had all witnessed the brothers’ interactions to varying degrees.
Dai Linxuan maintained a distant yet clear demeanor with almost everyone—a sense of detachment that was palpable but untouchable.
Strangers often found him gentle and approachable, but those close to him only felt profound alienation. He never truly opened up to anyone.
This also led many to place him on an unrealistic pedestal, making it hard to associate him with worldly desires or lust.
It was just like how Huo Wenhai had once gossiped about whether Dai Linxuan was still saving his first night, yet couldn’t imagine what someone like him would be like in bed.
No one would even entertain such thoughts.
If that scene had involved any other two people, they would have found it flirtatious and ambiguous. But because one of them was Dai Linxuan, reason deemed it odd, while emotions insisted they were innocent.
Dai Linxuan’s intimacy had always been Lai Li’s alone to enjoy.
Only He Xunzhang projected his own experiences onto them, finding He Shuxin’s absurd claims even more credible.
“Bro, wanna play a game?” Huo Shuang handed over her cue and stepped aside. “You brothers really have a great relationship.”
The assistant coach flipped a coin and gestured to Dai Linxuan, signaling him to break first.
He Xunzhang stood by with arms crossed, grinning. “Not long ago, the media said you were abandoning this brother of yours. Total nonsense.”
Dai Linxuan circled the table, pocketing a red ball each time before lining up on the seven-point black.
He chalked his cue and bent over the table. “Even if you raise a dog for twelve years, you can’t just abandon it on a whim—not to mention a person.”
Everyone’s expressions varied. The metaphor wasn’t quite appropriate; it was unclear if it elevated or diminished Lai Li’s importance.
“Those reports must’ve been because of the auction incident before.” Another red ball dropped. Dai Linxuan straightened and smiled faintly. “Actually, it was Xiao Li who got mad at me.”
Huo Wenhai asked curiously, “Oh? Why?”
“Because of some baseless rumors.” Dai Linxuan brushed it off lightly. “A little coaxing and it was fine.”
He Xunzhang kept smiling as if he knew nothing. If it was truly baseless, why the need to coax?
Or perhaps Lai Li wasn’t one to be easily bullied. After years of private interactions, he must have gathered some evidence unfavorable to Dai Linxuan, making it impossible to just kick him aside like the outside world assumed?
Huo Wenhai’s mind had already shifted from the rumors. The red balls on the table were dwindling. “Linxuan’s going for a full clearance.”
“Not just clearance—he’s aiming for a 147.” Huo Shuang said, “No wonder you suggested doubles earlier. In singles, no one else would even get a shot.”
Dai Linxuan said humbly, “Just luck.”
Next door, Jing Deyu ditched Bao Song and quietly slipped out of the billiards hall.
The restroom’s white marble tiles gleamed brightly and cleanly, and it was exceptionally quiet.
Jing Deyu paused at the door to listen, confirming no odd noises before entering. “Lai Li?”
No response.
Jing Deyu hesitated, then quietly opened the adjacent utility room. He found a “Under Maintenance” sign, but as he turned, he came face-to-face with a stern expression—
“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” Jing Deyu nearly choked. “Do you not make any noise when you walk?”
“What are you doing?” Lai Li eyed him.
“Ah…” Jing Deyu’s gaze drifted downward briefly before snapping away. He forced a dry laugh. “I thought… thought you… haha.”
“Not as thirsty as you.” Lai Li turned expressionlessly and headed out.
Jing Deyu couldn’t argue; he had indeed done some indescribable things in restrooms before. He caught up to Lai Li’s strides—this wasn’t the way back to the billiards hall. “Where to?”
“Just wandering.”
“Oh.”
Jing Deyu’s mood was complicated. He wouldn’t have thought much of it otherwise, but when Lai Li had left the billiards hall, a certain part of him had been at half-mast.
He didn’t know if the others had noticed, but he and Bao Song had.
It was easy to understand—as long as you were gay, you couldn’t resist that kind of top-tier teasing pose, even if Dai Linxuan hadn’t meant it.
And Lai Li, a straight guy, had actually gotten a reaction?
Lai Li glanced back slightly. “Why are you following me?”
“Uh.” Jing Deyu stammered for a while. “Lai Li, your bro to you… no, you to your bro… uh, you and your bro…”
“What’s up with me and my bro?” Lai Li seemed to respond, but every inch of him, down to each strand of hair, screamed ‘say one word I don’t like and you’re dead.’
Jing Deyu tsked. “C’mon, let’s go to the observation deck for a smoke.”
Unlike He Xunzhang and the others, as Lai Li’s friend, Jing Deyu had seen countless private moments between Dai Linxuan and Lai Li—
For instance, back when they were teens, he and Lai Li had stayed out all night partying until four or five in the morning. Freshly woken Dai Linxuan drove over to pick Lai Li up. Lai Li, who never let anyone get close, sniffed the air like a dog, recognized his brother without opening his eyes, and buried his face in his neck.
Despite being so large, he acted like a kid, trying to burrow entirely into his brother’s arms.
Another example: Lai Li and Dai Linxuan shared drinks without hesitation. Dai Linxuan wouldn’t proactively touch Lai Li’s things, but if Lai Li offered, he wouldn’t refuse.
As for Lai Li, he had no concept of “personal boundaries.”
Thinking back now, the lack of boundaries might stem from Dai Linxuan never setting any for Lai Li—never dictating what brothers could or couldn’t do.
Jing Deyu spread his hands. “Don’t even talk about my sister drinking from my cup—she won’t eat from the other end of chopsticks I’ve used for a bite.”
Lai Li rested his elbow on the railing and took the cigarette Jing Deyu offered without lighting it.
The club overlooked the sea; a vast blue stretched nearby, the air carried a faint salty tang, and the wind felt like fine sand on the face.
“Wanna grab some drinks? The billiards room’s crowded anyway; they won’t miss us.” Jing Deyu waved over a server nearby, ordering a few bottles of whiskey at random. He leaned back against the railing and lit a cigarette.
“Do you remember years ago, our first time at a gay bar?”
“No recollection.” Lai Li said.
That year, Jing Deyu had just realized his orientation and was super curious about gay bars, but too embarrassed to go alone. So he tricked eighteen-year-old Lai Li into tagging along.
Gay bars were far more chaotic than regular ones—groping asses or dicks as you passed wasn’t unusual. Some called straights prudes, others said gays were too loose. Either way, Jing Deyu had his eyes opened to a new world.
Lai Li nearly opened the door to prison. He dislocated every wandering hand that reached for him; amid the deafening music, they howled in pain, which the crowd mistook for the beat.
Jing Deyu remembered vividly: “You were weird that day.”
Lai Li rarely got drunk, let alone in unfamiliar places, but that night he drank until his eyes shut and he staggered when walking.
The server brought whiskey and two glasses. Jing Deyu filled them, clinked one against Lai Li’s, and continued. “You wanted to hit the bathroom after getting wasted. I lied and said the bar had no toilets, and you actually believed me.”
“—Do you know why I wouldn’t let you go?”
Lai Li sipped the amber liquid. “There were people fucking in the toilets.”
Jing Deyu’s eyes widened. “Fuck, how’d you know? Did you sneak off behind my back?”
“You could guess with your brain.” Lai Li grew impatient. “What are you getting at?”
“I was afraid someone would drag you into a stall, so I messaged your bro to come get you.” Jing Deyu recalled. “About ten minutes later, he showed up.”
Lai Li: “And then?”
Jing Deyu grinned mysteriously. “The second your bro arrived, you pinned him to the sofa—and kissed him.”
Lai Li’s face instinctively darkened. “Don’t bullshit me. I didn’t…”
The words cut off abruptly. In an instant, fragmented images buried deep in his mind surfaced like tides crashing ashore, sweeping away his anger.
Jing Deyu’s nagging filled his ears: “And you say no recollection? Keep pretending…”
But his brain replayed the scene from four years ago—
That night, Dai Linxuan had just landed from a business trip, still in his crisp suit when he got Jing Deyu’s message. At the bar, caught off guard, he was pushed onto the booth sofa the moment he touched Lai Li’s arm.
Lai Li hadn’t actually kissed Dai Linxuan.
He merely shredded his suit jacket, popped several shirt buttons that rolled under the table. He buried his head and bit at Dai Linxuan’s collarbone.
But then, remembering something, he retracted his teeth and switched to licking—from the collarbone up the neck, not sparing the jaw, leaving a trail of wet marks.
Dai Linxuan probably didn’t like him yet, but fearing injury, he didn’t shove too hard. He signaled Jing Deyu for help with his eyes, but Jing Deyu froze like a stump.
Thus, Dai Linxuan’s entire neck got licked, and just before his ear was taken, Dai Linxuan finally lost patience, flipped Lai Li off, slapped his thigh hard, and half-dragged him to the car.
“Sometimes I joke if you’re secretly crushing on your bro because of that.” Jing Deyu shrugged. “I’ve never figured it out—was it just drunken nonsense that night, or did you mistake him for someone?”
The whiskey in the glass trembled. After a moment, Lai Li downed it in one go. “Just drunken nonsense. If you dare tell anyone—”
“I’d have spilled by now if I wanted to.” Jing Deyu rolled his eyes. “Can’t you trust your friends a bit?”
Lai Li went to the small table, picked up the full bottle of whiskey, and clinked it against Jing Deyu’s. “Thanks.”
“You’re thanking me?” Jing Deyu yelped in surprise. “Forty-three percent and you’re chugging from the bottle!?”
Lai Li took a swig and stopped, shooting him an idiot look.
Jing Deyu sighed in relief. “So you and your bro…”
The sea wind tousled Lai Li’s hair, carrying away the lingering whiskey scent from his lips. This time, he didn’t snap, merely saying, “Don’t ask.”
“Fine, fine.” Though gossipy, Jing Deyu wasn’t one to dig relentlessly. He hinted, “If you ever get a boyfriend, you gotta tell me.”
Lai Li neither agreed nor refused.
Jing Deyu felt like he’d forgotten something. He sipped his drink, racked his brain, gave up. “Your hair’s getting long, huh? I met a great stylist recently; I’ll send you his card later…”
“No need.” Lai Li lowered his gaze. “Someone cuts it for me.”
They didn’t return, and no one urged them. They wasted two bottles of whiskey in the sea breeze.
Jing Deyu said incredulously, “He Shuxin’s big bro is so weird—bringing a minor to play pool? Half the people here brought dates, groping thighs and asses. Isn’t he corrupting the kid?”
Lai Li frowned. “Wen Yi’s underage?”
“Yeah.” Jing Deyu was already tipsy. “Saw him at Uncle He’s sixtieth last year. He’s probably sophomore or junior in high school now.”
Lai Li turned and left.
He’d felt safe leaving Dai Linxuan and Wen Yi in the same space because the Huo siblings were there. He Xunzhang couldn’t let Wen Yi get close to Dai Linxuan in front of them.
His phone buzzed—
[Home]: Come to the north hall. Heading home.
When Lai Li arrived, the three Huo siblings had left. He Xunzhang was nowhere in sight. Wen Yi stood before Dai Linxuan, holding out his phone with a flushed face, mouth opening and closing as if stammering something.
Lai Li lost all reason, strode over, and snatched the phone.
Wen Yi saw him and blushed harder. “Xiao Li-ge.”
Dai Linxuan’s tone cooled. “Xiao Li, give it back.”
Lai Li typed “Xuan” into the search bar without a care, but before the results could even pop up, Dai Linxuan snatched the phone away and handed it back to Wen Yi.
His brother instructed him mildly and properly, “Senior year is still about prioritizing your studies.”
Wen Yi glanced at Lai Li and said somewhat disappointedly, “I got it, Big Brother Dai.”
Lai Li found it utterly grating and was just about to fire off a sarcastic remark when Dai Linxuan grabbed his wrist and half-dragged him out the north door of the club, down to the parking lot.
Surrounded by cameras, Lai Li did nothing and said nothing.
Dai Linxuan drove himself that day, so Lai Li naturally got into the passenger seat, staring blankly out the window.
This wasn’t the road back to the manor, nor was it the way to where Dai Linxuan lived now.
Twenty minutes later, Lai Li stood at the apartment door, refusing to go in. “You said we were going home.”
Dai Linxuan replied, “Every house can be called a home.”
He turned on the warm yellow-toned side light, bent down to change into house slippers, and just as he straightened up, Lai Li shoved his shoulders and pinned him against the entryway. “Did you add him on WeChat?”
Dai Linxuan frowned at the smell. “How much did you drink?”
Lai Li seemed perfectly sober. “One bottle.”
Dai Linxuan could smell the whiskey—a bottle of liquor over forty proof. A normal person would’ve been too drunk to think straight after that.
A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he gripped the back of Lai Li’s neck and pulled him away. “If you’ve had too much, go wash up and sleep.”
Lai Li ignored him, his hand sliding down from Dai Linxuan’s waist. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the phone pressed against Dai Linxuan’s thigh.
With one arm braced against the wall beside Dai Linxuan, blocking his path, Lai Li used the other hand to enter the password and open WeChat to check the contacts.
Dai Linxuan looked down at him swiping across the screen. “Over three thousand contacts. You planning to check them one by one?”
That was exactly what Lai Li intended. Even though there were no new friend adds in the recent messages, he still wasn’t reassured.
“Lai Li.” Dai Linxuan pinched his chin, forcing him to look up. “Huo Fei wouldn’t check his brother’s phone. He Shuxin wouldn’t know He Xunzhang’s phone password. You… this isn’t normal between us. You get that, right?”
Lai Li froze for a moment.
“Do you know what I was thinking during billiards earlier?” The dim yellow light cast over Dai Linxuan’s brows and eyes, making him look both tender and cruel. “I was thinking about stripping you naked, pinning you on the table, and no matter how much you begged, I wouldn’t stop. If you said anything nasty, I’d stuff a billiard ball in your mouth—the black one. You know all that.”
“You know exactly what I want to do to you, yet you keep doing these unnecessary, boundary-crossing things…”
Dai Linxuan suddenly stopped, lowering his gaze.
Lai Li’s hand had slid down to the middle, covering him.
The little punk seemed to see right through everything. He tilted his head closer and murmured low by his ear, “But bro, you say all that, and there’s not even a twitch down here.”
Dai Linxuan: “…”
Lai Li’s hand moved upward, wrapping around Dai Linxuan’s waist as he buried his face in the crook of his neck and nuzzled twice. “My neck hurts.”
Dai Linxuan closed his eyes. A long moment later, he opened them again. For an instant, his gaze was utterly empty, devoid of anything, relying only on instinct to deliver that cutting tenderness. “Who taught you to ride without a helmet?”
