During the seventy-minute flight, Lai Li was asked several times by the flight attendants if he felt unwell. Sometimes, they had to repeat themselves multiple times before he registered their words.
“I’m fine.”
Lai Li simply couldn’t understand why Dai Linxuan was always so disobedient. Why did he have to get so close to other men and even go into their homes?
Didn’t he know how much allure he held for others? Both publicly and privately, there were so many people who wanted to defile him, to destroy him. Why couldn’t he just obediently keep his distance from those with ulterior motives and protect himself?
The mere thought of even the slightest possibility that Dai Linxuan might have relations with someone else was unbearable for Lai Li.
He had already exhausted all his self-control just by not dwelling on whether Dai Linxuan had let that boy go down on him at the end of the video from before.
Yet Dai Linxuan kept challenging his tolerance, again and again.
Accompanied by a ringing in his ears, the plane landed smoothly at the airport.
Torrential rain poured down, night had fallen, and the distant city lights gleamed brightly with flashing neon. Raindrops splattered against the thick windows, blurring into vibrant halos.
Lai Li had only managed to buy a single first-class ticket on short notice. He couldn’t afford to wait for his bodyguards and arrived in the unfamiliar city alone. He followed the flight attendant toward the VIP channel, the murmurs of voices around him hazy and indistinct, not a single word registering.
Lai Li felt a surreal detachment, as if his feet weren’t quite touching the ground. His body moved steadily forward, but his soul drifted unmoored, separated from everything around him by an invisible barrier.
“Lai Li…”
“Lai Li!”
It was as if someone was calling him…
Lai Li slowly came to a stop. Before he could turn around, a hand gripped his shoulder from behind and spun him around.
“I’ve been calling you several times, and you just kept walking.” Dai Linxuan’s slightly furrowed brows met his gaze. “Is the tinnitus that bad?”
The moment cold fingers touched his ear, a sharp buzz pierced through his brain. Lai Li shuddered uncontrollably, but fortunately snapped out of his floating haze, his feet finally planting firmly on the ground.
The shadows and sounds around him gained substance, centering on his brother.
“…It’s okay, I just didn’t notice.” Lai Li blocked his brother’s hand. There were too many people around, and his brother was too conspicuous—easy to get secretly photographed.
“Why did you have to go through all this trouble?” Dai Linxuan frowned. “Coming alone without your tinnitus meds, not even checking the local weather. Do you think your health is too good as it is?”
Lai Li couldn’t just come out and say, I know you’re lying to me—you said you were busy with work, but you went to some guy’s house.
He could only suppress himself and say as casually as possible, “I was afraid you’d go to someone else.”
“…Who could I possibly go to? Is that all your brain is filled with?” Dai Linxuan was so exasperated he almost laughed. He pressed against his forehead, pinched his temple, turned away to calm himself, then shrugged off his trench coat and tossed it backward. “Put this on.”
Lai Li wasn’t actually cold, but the coat was infused with his brother’s body heat.
For a moment, he felt jealous of a mere piece of clothing that could follow his brother anywhere, anytime, without reason—tracking his every move, intimately close.
Dai Linxuan hadn’t brought Liu Zeng on this business trip; his assistants handled the driving.
But it was so late now that both assistants had returned to the hotel to rest, so Dai Linxuan had driven himself to the airport.
As they reached the car, Lai Li suddenly grabbed the wrist at his side.
Dai Linxuan turned his head, patiently asking, “What’s wrong?”
Lai Li took a deep breath, using every ounce of restraint not to fling Dai Linxuan into the back seat, strip off his clothes, and check for any traces left by others.
“Nothing. I’ll drive.” Lai Li circled to the driver’s side, not giving Dai Linxuan a chance to refuse. “You look tired.”
“…” Dai Linxuan settled into the passenger seat and opened the car’s navigation, entering a high-end hotel in the city center—an over-an-hour drive away.
Lai Li glanced at it and asked calmly, “When I video-called you, had you already returned to the hotel and started washing up?”
Dai Linxuan hummed in affirmation. “Just got back from outside.”
Lai Li gripped the steering wheel tighter and said nothing.
Even if Dai Linxuan had let go of his feelings for him and was ready to pursue someone else, given Dai Linxuan’s personality, it was almost impossible for anything to happen so quickly.
But with everything that had occurred lately, he couldn’t ignore that one-in-a-billion possibility.
Most importantly, the old Dai Linxuan had always been completely honest with him, never evading or deliberately deceiving.
Lai Li floored the accelerator, keeping the speed right at the edge of the fine line.
The black car weaved through the elevated highway, barely slowing for turns. The pounding rain on the roof and the frantic swish of the wipers dominated his senses, gradually brewing a madness.
Why was he always lying to him now?
Was it so hard to tell him the truth?
Was it something absolutely forbidden to honestly say what he was doing?
Did there have to be so many secrets between brothers?
“Lai Li.” Dai Linxuan’s voice cut through like a thin, resilient thread from left to right across his eardrums, bringing sudden clarity—
“I don’t know what madness has gotten into you, but there are still plenty of cars on the road. Don’t cause trouble for others.”
Lai Li’s gaze dropped to the speedometer, and he eased off the gas slightly.
It was late rush hour now; office workers exhausted from the day rushed home, and with the downpour, the city roads were gridlocked, doubling what should have been a ten-minute trip.
Dai Linxuan asked, “Have you eaten dinner?”
Lai Li said, “No.”
Dai Linxuan checked the map. At this hour, it would be hard to book a good restaurant, and Lai Li was picky about food…
He was about to make a call when Lai Li stopped him. “Don’t bother. I don’t want to go out.”
Dai Linxuan accommodated him. “The hotel restaurant is decent too. If you don’t want to go downstairs, they can deliver to the room.”
Lai Li hadn’t eaten lunch or breakfast either; hunger gnawed at him fiercely now. But what he craved wasn’t lifeless food.
Dai Linxuan closed the map and opened another app to search for morning flights the next day. As he entered his ID number, Lai Li suddenly spoke. “Unless you leave in the morning too.”
“You planning to skip class?”
“I already got permission.” Lai Li gripped the wheel. “So eager to send me away?”
Dai Linxuan ignored the second half. “Why didn’t I hear about it from your counselor?”
Lai Li countered, “Why would they tell you?”
Before adulthood, Dai Linxuan had been his designated guardian. But after turning eighteen, with no shared household registry or blood relation, that guardianship naturally ended.
For something minor like skipping class, the counselor had no obligation to inform a parent—especially since Dai Linxuan wasn’t one.
Dai Linxuan turned to look out the window, his gaze landing on the rearview mirror, where rain blurred the figures within.
After a moment, he said softly, “I can’t control you anymore, huh.”
“Of course you can.” Lai Li slammed on the brakes, pulling up at the hotel entrance. He turned to his brother. “—It’s you who doesn’t want to anymore.”
Dai Linxuan froze.
The air in the car grew deathly still. A hotel attendant approached with an umbrella, shielding them from the slanting rain and opening the door.
Dai Linxuan lightly patted the back of Lai Li’s hand. “Let’s get out first.”
He handed the keys to the attendant and led Lai Li to check in.
Dai Linxuan said, “Book another suite.”
Lai Li immediately replied, “No need.”
Dai Linxuan insisted, “Book another one.”
A scorching heat surged in Lai Li’s throat, barely containing the desires bubbling up.
Neither spoke as they rode the elevator to the twenties floor. Only once in the hallway did Dai Linxuan say, “The suite only has three rooms. Li Jue and the others each took one.”
Lai Li whipped around. “You’re sharing with them?”
Dai Linxuan asked calmly, “What’s wrong with one room each?”
Lai Li’s expression darkened abruptly as he realized Dai Linxuan wasn’t sharing a room with the assistants—he probably hadn’t planned to return to the hotel tonight at all.
Dai Linxuan swiped the door lock and inserted the card into the power switch nearby. “I’ll grab a couple of outfits from 2306.”
A loud slam echoed from behind.
Dai Linxuan’s eyelid twitched. As he turned, Lai Li shoved him hard against the entryway wall.
“Li…”
Lai Li hugged him fiercely, his arms coiling like a snake around its prey—the more it struggled, the tighter it squeezed, creating the illusion that bones might snap.
Dai Linxuan struggled to raise a hand and patted Lai Li’s waist. “It’s not about avoiding you. I really do have something to do.”
Lai Li’s eyes fixed only on Dai Linxuan’s pale, moving lips, weary from fatigue. He leaned in slowly and murmured softly, “Bro…”
Dai Linxuan realized they were too close. He turned his face slightly. “Let go.”
“I can’t, bro.” Lai Li’s lips hovered at Dai Linxuan’s jaw. “I just can’t.”
Dai Linxuan closed his eyes. “…I’ll get the clothes. You sleeping like this tonight?”
Lai Li ignored him, pressing closer. He rubbed his cheek affectionately against Dai Linxuan’s. “The shareholders’ meeting is the day after tomorrow. Do you have an answer yet?”
“…” In mere seconds, the coolness on Dai Linxuan’s face was driven away by Lai Li’s scorching body heat. He lowered his gaze; the coppery wall opposite reflected their four intertwined legs, indistinguishable.
Lai Li stared at the wall, nearly tempted to bite the earlobe at his lips. “You’re not taking it seriously at all. You haven’t even thought about it properly, have you?”
“Stop messing around.” Dai Linxuan sighed, opening his eyes, the struggle in them gone. “I won’t go looking for anyone—neither men nor women… Can you let go now?”
Lai Li didn’t loosen his arms but pulled back his face. He looked into Dai Linxuan’s eyes and smiled faintly. “Too late. I’ve changed my mind—”
“Bro, you have no choice now.”
“Wha…” The first syllable barely left Dai Linxuan’s lips before the rest was sealed away.
The moment their lips touched, he didn’t even have time to be stunned—his body trembled violently.
A massive stone crashed into the empty valley of his heart, but the fragments it shattered into weren’t joy, but an overwhelming palpitation, overflowing with bitterness and astringency.
It was over.
No turning back now.
Even if he forgot that night two years ago, he had still led Lai Li down this deformed, twisted path.
Sensing Dai Linxuan’s resistance, Lai Li gripped his jawbone, kissing harder, more aggressively, allowing no room to breathe.
Lai Li had countless similar experiences in his dreams; his invasion now was almost expertly skilled. He soon tasted a faint tobacco flavor, which filled him with displeasure, making his kisses even fiercer.
Their breaths grew ragged quickly. Amid pushes and pulls, their bodies left the door only to crash back, thudding dully several times. Their four legs tangled tightly, pressing closer, the friction of different fabric pants rustling audibly. They could almost directly feel each other’s rising, undeniable heat surging upward.
Lai Li tugged out Dai Linxuan’s shirttail and slipped his hand inside, grasping his brother’s waist.
Dai Linxuan gripped Lai Li’s nape tightly, instinctively pulling him closer for a moment before reason returned. He then yanked back by the nape, trying to create distance.
But in this position, he couldn’t muster the strength; it had little effect.
Dai Linxuan could only tilt his neck back, forcing Lai Li’s lips and tongue away. He wedged his hand between them, seized Lai Li’s jaw, and shoved him toward the opposite wall.
“Lai Li!”
Lai Li’s head hit the palm of Dai Linxuan’s hand. He stared into his brother’s eyes and asked softly, “Bro, don’t you want me anymore?”
Dai Linxuan’s breathing was uneven; the reprimands brewing on his tongue all sounded utterly hypocritical.
His gaze fell on Lai Li’s lips, then darted away quickly. Defeated, he pressed his forehead against the wall, half-encircling Lai Li in his arms, closing his eyes in a final, desperate struggle. “Stop it, Little Li… Please, bro’s begging you.”
Lai Li licked his lips. “—But I want you.”
Starting from when Dai Linxuan went back on his word again, from learning he’d entered a strange man’s home…
No, even earlier—from realizing Dai Linxuan liked him, from when Dai Linxuan said “I can’t change”—some dark impulse had grown like thorny vines with his heartbeat, slithering through damp vessels to every limb, drawing blood along the way in agonizing screams—
If his brother was destined to have such a potential stain in his life, why couldn’t it be him?
It should be him.
It could only be him.
Dai Linxuan pulled Lai Li’s hand away from his waist and retreated two steps before opening the door with a hint of panicked flight. “I’m your brother.”
“So what?”
Lai Li seized Dai Linxuan’s wrist and pinned it against the door, blocking his only escape route. He hooked the corner of his mouth, a streak of madness coloring the depths of his eyes—
“Not to mention that you’re not my real brother—what if you were?”
Dai Linxuan stared at him in shock, utterly stunned by this blasphemous declaration.
Lai Li leaned in close and affectionately nuzzled Dai Linxuan’s nose tip. “Bro… don’t forget, you provoked me first.”
