This call of “brother” made Dai Linxuan loosen his grip on Lai Li’s arm a little.
Lai Li had only called him that way in the first few years after joining the Dai Family. Once he grew up, it was either a simple “bro” or calling him straight by name—flashy and rude.
Dai Linxuan’s gaze drifted for a moment before he drawled, “I brought the thermometer.”
A twitch crossed Lai Li’s face. “…How did you bring it?”
He really shoved it in!?
Lai Li twisted around in the cramped space to fumble at Dai Linxuan’s waistband. “You fucking—”
Dai Linxuan raised both hands and stepped back. “How many times have I told you not to swear?”
Lai Li lunged forward aggressively. “Don’t act like a freaking…”
“Like what? A pervert?” Dai Linxuan clearly knew Lai Li well and asked with a hint of amusement. “What if I am?”
Lai Li had no patience to listen to Dai Linxuan. After fumbling around, he finally pulled a box out of Dai Linxuan’s pants pocket. The thermometer lay intact inside.
His heart, which had just started to settle, leaped up again as the thermometer thrust straight in, suspending it high. Dai Linxuan’s thumb pried open his lips and, with some malice, shoved the thermometer down to his throat.
Lai Li let out an uncontrollable muffled grunt. He heard Dai Linxuan murmur gently by his ear, “Don’t bite it. You’ll die.”
Lai Li: “You—”
Nearby, two sets of heavy footsteps grew closer.
Lai Li suddenly grabbed Dai Linxuan’s arm, trying to push the thermometer out of his mouth. His words came out garbled. “Are you crazy! What if someone sees!?”
Dai Linxuan wrapped an arm around his waist and flung him into the nearest stall, following right after and locking the door with a click.
“Shh.” Dai Linxuan brushed Lai Li’s ear ambiguously. “If you don’t want to be found, keep quiet.”
The approaching footsteps split at the bathroom door—one man, one woman. The man clearly wasn’t as picky as Lai Li and just used the urinal outside. The splashing water came in fits and starts, suggesting kidney issues.
Lai Li inevitably recalled that morning… Dai Linxuan’s kidneys were fine, nothing like the gossip rags speculated about him being chaste due to some sexual dysfunction.
Dai Linxuan pinned Lai Li between himself and the door, one hand holding the thermometer, the other cradling the back of Lai Li’s head to prevent him from leaning away. His gaze lingered on Lai Li’s healed lip corner, as if he wanted to kiss it.
Their breaths were too close, tickling the skin.
Dai Linxuan leaned in closer. Just before their lips met, Lai Li turned his head, and the kiss landed on his cheek.
It was very light, like a feather brushing over.
The smile faded slightly from Dai Linxuan’s face, a thread of inscrutable danger flickering in his eyes. “So afraid of being discovered?”
Normally, Lai Li would kick the door open and break free from Dai Linxuan’s control even if caught—he’d never cared about his reputation.
But for some reason now, even with his tongue root aching from the thermometer, he just clung to Dai Linxuan’s arm without moving.
The man outside finished up and suddenly called, “Linxuan?”
It hit Lai Li’s heart like a dull hammer. He instinctively reached for the lock, his forearm muscles tensing from nerves, veins bulging. Dai Linxuan’s gaze traced along his arm to his empty knuckles and paused before looking away.
The man outside called “Linxuan” again. With no response, he left, saying to the woman emerging from the ladies’ room, “Weird. Linxuan said he was coming to the bathroom, but he’s gone.”
The woman chuckled. “Maybe he stepped out to take a call.”
Their footsteps faded away. After waiting a bit longer to confirm no one was around, Lai Li unlocked the door. He grabbed Dai Linxuan’s hair from behind, yanked his head back sharply, spat out the thermometer, and shoved him down onto the toilet seat.
The thermometer was sticky, trailing thin silver strands.
Dai Linxuan didn’t struggle, even as Lai Li pinned his shoulders. He raised a hand, as if to cover Lai Li’s eyes. “Next time you speak out of turn—”
Slap!
Dai Linxuan turned his head, his left cheek reddening.
The two stared at each other for a long moment.
There was no anger in Dai Linxuan’s eyes, just the smile fading as he waited for Lai Li’s next move.
Lai Li stared for a bit, then, as if possessed, pressed the hand he’d used to slap him against Dai Linxuan’s cheek. The slapped side felt warm, heating his palm too.
He rubbed it for a long time, as if cradling half of Dai Linxuan’s face.
This version of Lai Li seemed off. Dai Linxuan ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, nudging it. Lai Li jerked his hand back as if licked from afar, paused, and muttered lowly, “Sorry.”
Whatever Dai Linxuan had been about to say slipped his mind, a flash of surprise in his eyes… Lai Li actually knew how to say “sorry.”
“But, bro—” Lai Li suddenly leaned down and hugged Dai Linxuan, murmuring, “If you make another promise you can’t keep, I’ll really get mad.”
“…What?”
Lai Li released him, as if snapping awake. “I’ll grab an ice pack from the front desk. Wait here.”
“No need.” Dai Linxuan unlocked the stall first and checked his face at the sink. Even after the slap, he remained composed. “Just a bit red.”
Lai Li frowned and followed. “How are you gonna face people like that?”
Dai Linxuan didn’t care and turned back to ask again, “What promise did I fail to keep?”
They locked eyes for a moment, but Lai Li stayed silent. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off without looking back.
Dai Linxuan stood there for a bit, unable to recall. He looked at himself in the mirror and lightly touched his cheek.
Back in the private room, he sat down, raised his glass to the group, and downed it. “Stepped out for a call. Where were we?”
There weren’t many people in the room—just a couple of celebrities, a director, and a producer. This gathering wasn’t formal schmoozing; they had some personal ties and were just hanging out under the guise of an investor meetup. The vibe was relaxed.
The man who’d gone to the bathroom was there too—Tang Yue, another investor in the production. “Talking about that West Suburb plot you snagged half a year ago.”
Dai Linxuan leaned back. “From your faces, seems like you’ve got some objections?”
“No real objections.” Tang Yue turned sideways, draping an arm over the sofa back behind Dai Linxuan. “But a lot of people are puzzled. Prime location, and the city plans to develop a new district there in the next few years. Why build a cemetery?”
“The government’s leaning toward funeral services anyway. Without that, it’d just be a resort—nothing happening for the first five years.” Dai Linxuan quirked his lip. “Don’t underestimate cemeteries. Bet it sells out and breaks even on day one?”
“That, I believe. They say the feng shui’s great, and there are plenty of old folks dying these days. Your Dai Family just…” The woman lounged against the sofa, her face shadowed. “But compared to other projects, it probably won’t make much.”
She set down her glass, revealing her exquisite, glamorous face under the light. It was a household name—the country’s only Grand Slam actress, Yan Luan.
She wasn’t young anymore, but time had been exceptionally kind to her.
Dai Linxuan smiled faintly. “Low investment, quick returns, stable long-term. With good feng shui, no shortage of ‘clients.’ High ROI.”
Of course, feng shui couldn’t be advertised openly—mainstream values wouldn’t allow it. But the higher up you went, the more people adopted a “better safe than sorry” attitude toward it. Good land wouldn’t go to waste. Just leak some feng shui rumors discreetly, let the rich and powerful hire their own experts, and with the Dai Group’s name backing it, it was free positive PR.
The man beside Tang Yue lowered his brows and smiled faintly. “Sounds like the rumor about Director Dai reserving a double plot is true.”
“Yes.” Dai Linxuan admitted it. “If Director Yan’s interested, I can give you an insider discount.”
Yan An didn’t take offense and laughed. “Sure, but I’m counting on this film’s box office to explode. Otherwise, a lone bachelor like me can’t afford prime real estate like that.”
“Won’t disappoint from Director Yan.” Dai Linxuan clinked glasses with him.
Yan An smiled at him and slowly finished his drink.
Tang Yue tsked. “Can’t figure you out. Doesn’t the Dai Family cemetery have room for a big shot like you?”
Dai Linxuan teased back, “What family cemetery? What era is this?”
Tang Yue shook his head. “You’re just messing with us.”
Officially, family cemeteries weren’t allowed anymore. But the mountain where the Dai ancestors were buried belonged to the family. Later, they cooperated with the shift to cremation, turned it into Danshi’s first luxury cemetery, and carved out a section for themselves. The higher-ups knew but turned a blind eye.
Dai Linxuan smiled lightly. “What if the old plot filled up, so we’re doing a phase two family cemetery?”
Tang Yue had just swallowed a sip of liquor and nearly choked. “Cough! Cough cough!”
Dai Linxuan chuckled and toyed with his glass, half-serious. “In the two years I was away, I had a close-call plane crash, a terrorist attack, and an assassination attempt on me. Saw plenty of people alive one second and dead the next. It hit me hard… So one day, I thought, if you could be buried in a tomb you picked yourself, that’d be a blessing.”
“Didn’t peg Director Dai as so pessimistic.” Yan An sounded surprised.
Dai Linxuan smiled without elaborating.
“I’ll take one too.” Yan Luan grinned. “Nothing fancy—just a quiet, out-of-the-way corner.”
“You guys are giving me chills.” Tang Yue shuddered. “Linxuan just turned thirty, Director Yan hit forty this year? Sister Luan’s in her early forties. Why pick graves now!?”
“You wouldn’t get it.” Yan Luan teased. “Folks used to save for their coffins early. Can’t bury anymore, so buying plots ahead is carrying on the tradition.”
“Isn’t this a bit too ahead?” Tang Yue stood quietly and cranked up the AC.
Creepy. Felt like hanging with them too long would shorten his life.
Yan Luan said, “Better safe than sorry.”
“A bit too safe.” Tang Yue sat back down and changed the subject. “Rumor has it you’re joining the Group board now that you’re back. True? Spill.”
Dai Linxuan shook his head with a smile. “Just a candidate. Depends on the board vote next month.”
“Only candidate—total formality.” Tang Yue joked. “Wasted two years abroad and finally back to inherit the family business.”
Dai Linxuan swirled his glass noncommittally. “Had to come back eventually. Roots are here.”
Tang Yue recalled something. “Speaking of, with Jiang Feng’s mess—are you muddying the waters for yourself or the Dai Family?”
Jiang Feng was a local veteran construction firm facing a serious cash crunch—either finance or get acquired.
Dai Linxuan took a sip. “Guess.”
“Won’t.” Tang Yue pressed on. “Just a heads-up: Jiang Feng’s boss’s son, Tang Yuanyang, goes to the same uni as your brother this year—junior or senior. Hangs with He Shuxin a lot. Young and hot-headed, no foresight…”
Dai Linxuan smiled. “Ten Tang Yuanyangs couldn’t touch Little Chestnut. No worries.”
Tang Yue’s mouth twitched. “You worried about your brother? I’m scared he’ll kill the guy’s son and tank your Jiang Feng plans!”
“What do you mean ‘plans’?” Dai Linxuan tsked lightly. “Little Chestnut knows his limits.”
Tang Yue thought of Young Master Lai’s track record… Beating He Shuxin into the hospital? Real restrained? He didn’t buy it.
“Kids need reining in.” Yan Luan said. “You can’t protect him forever.”
Dai Linxuan shrugged it off. “We’ll see.”
Tang Yue chuckled. “Aren’t you reining him in? Making the pampered young master dorm? Must’ve been a riot. How’s he adapting?”
Dai Linxuan moved to set down his glass but paused, suddenly remembering the unkept promise—
That morning when Lai Li enrolled, Dai Linxuan—thinking he’d suppressed all his feelings—lost control over Lai Li’s line about “dating a guy” and did something wrong but unregretted.
Lai Li clearly couldn’t accept it and hid in the bathroom. Dai Linxuan had said outside the door then, “Hurry up. Still gotta head to school for enrollment after breakfast. I’ll drop you on the way.”
In the end, of course, he didn’t send it.
For a brief moment, Dai Linxuan suddenly didn’t know what expression to make.
He had thought that slap was because of Lai Li’s hatred toward him, or for his inappropriate behavior that morning, or perhaps a younger brother’s anger at his older brother for unilaterally dodging him these past two years… but he never imagined it was for the most trivial little thing from these past few days.
Compared to the other things Dai Linxuan had done, this slap was truly unjust.
So that morning, smashing the bowl wasn’t because he felt humiliated or wronged—it was just because when he came down for breakfast, he discovered that Dai Linxuan was no longer in the dining room…?
“Linxuan?”
“President Dai is spacing out.” Yan An laughed.
“You’re adapting pretty well.” Dai Linxuan once again curved his lips into a gentle smile, returning to his impeccable demeanor.
Climbing through the window had gone pretty smoothly; now he was sitting in the private room down the hallway.
“Stay away from me.” Lai Li shut the private room door and irritably kicked Jing Deyu. “Why did your parents let you out so quickly?”
“You, you!” Jing Deyu shook with shock, glancing at Lai Li then at Jing Zixiao. “Listen to what he’s saying—is that even human language?!”
Lai Li sat down in the spot farthest from Jing Deyu, his expression annoyed and somewhat serious.
“What now, Young Master Lai?” Jing Zixiao sighed.
“I’m thinking about dropping out.” Lai Li said.
“Huh?” Jing Zixiao hurriedly sat down. “What’s wrong? You’re not that young anymore, but going to university is still pretty fun, and your brother doesn’t need you to make money…”
Lai Li’s expression grew grave. “I want to drop out and go abroad to join anti-gay activities.”
Jing Deyu: “…”
Jing Zixiao: “…”
Lai Li slowly shifted his gaze. “Are there similar activities or lectures in the country?”
Jing Deyu laughed out of extreme anger. “No! Give it up!”
Now, whenever Lai Li closed his eyes, he saw what had happened in the bathroom just now—the Dai family eldest young master, who appeared so upright and pure in others’ eyes, toying with his mouth using the thermometer.
Dai Linxuan’s smile, his breathing rhythm—they were as composed and dignified as ever on the business battlefield, without the slightest difference. It was as if Lai Li were just a bargaining chip that Dai Linxuan toyed with in his palm during negotiations: completely under control, handling it with ease, victory assured… he had even completely forgotten about the promise he hadn’t kept.
This Dai Linxuan felt utterly unfamiliar to Lai Li.
Though they hadn’t met much in the past two years, they often video called, and Dai Linxuan had never shown the slightest abnormality. In their twelve years together, Dai Linxuan had never hinted at having homosexual tendencies or such thoughts toward the younger brother he had raised.
Had Dai Linxuan been too good at hiding it before, or had he been stimulated by something abroad these past two years?
Stop—
Lai Li cut off his wandering thoughts, pulled out his phone, and messaged Dai Linxuan.
【Go Bark Somewhere Else】: How much did you drink today?
【My Family’s】: Not much.
【My Family’s】: I’m not drunk.
Dai Linxuan’s reply shattered Lai Li’s last shred of illusion. It had happened twice now—it couldn’t all be because his brain was fever-addled, right?
【Go Bark Somewhere Else】: Do you like men?
【My Family’s】: What do you think?
Lai Li flung his phone at the private room door with a loud bang, then said coldly, “Jing Deyu, send me the herbal formula you’ve been drinking lately!”
“?” Jing Deyu jumped in fright and picked up the shattered phone from the floor. “Who are you giving it to?”
“My—sister.” The word “brother” nearly slipped out; Lai Li forcibly twisted his tone.
“Your sister? Dai Yi? A few days ago you said she wasn’t your sister.” Jing Zixiao pointed out.
“She is now.” Lai Li said coldly. “Send the formula.”
Jing Deyu was going a bit crazy. “Didn’t Dai Yi date a boyfriend before? And I already told you—that was just my mom grasping at straws in desperation when she was sick; it’s useless! Useless, got it!? If you showed me a gay video right now, I could still get rock hard, okay? If you made Dai… if you made any random hot guy strip naked and stand in front of me, I could drag him straight to the bathroom for a live performance, okay!?”
“No.” Lai Li was insistent. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Jing Deyu pointed at Lai Li and said calmly to Jing Zixiao, “See? This is the result of hanging onto your student status at home and cramming nine years of compulsory education into your skull—your brain’s been stuffed full of knowledge and turned into a Watt, actually believing in folk remedies.”
