“This is my home,” Chi Mo said. As he undid his cufflinks, his right hand casually tugged the Bodhi Beads and let them snap back. “You don’t need to know.”
Qi Zhi’s expression shifted slightly. “Fine.”
“Friends need boundaries. Not everyone can handle your hot-blooded enthusiasm—he’d only feel scared.” Chi Mo tossed the cufflinks onto the coffee table. Li Ran could tell they were worth tens of thousands; he felt a pang of distress, but Chi Mo didn’t care—if these got ruined, there were more. “You don’t need to know everything about Li Ran.”
“Bro, we’ve been desk mates for two years. How long have you even known him?” With a casual guess, Qi Zhi figured Li Ran must have lived in the rundown complex across the street before—it fit his financial situation. “Didn’t you just move here three months ago? Still, my desk mate managing to get acquainted with you is pretty impressive. Didn’t you give a lecture at our high school last month? I was out that day—skipping school to pick up Aunt at the airport…”
Chi Mo stared straight at him, icy cold.
Qi Zhi shut his mouth abruptly and said nothing more.
His eyes darted around the room furnishings, clearly changing the subject.
Li Ran sensed something odd in the atmosphere between them.
Before long, Cheng Ai Mei and Ye Ze returned from outside. They were heading out on a trip tomorrow—energetic seniors in their seventies who couldn’t sit still.
They wanted to travel the world.
But they were scared of safety issues abroad.
The soft-hearted pair saw good in everyone and had been scammed into buying health supplements multiple times by young salespeople, losing tens of thousands.
Their son got so mad he suggested they just travel locally. “Don’t go too far, or if someone tries to harvest organs, you’ll be the type to lift your shirt, point to your kidney, and say: Here, hurry up and take it.”
Cheng Ai Mei wasn’t pleased. She said she was almost 70—who’d want her nearly retired kidneys?
Ye Ze said he did.
Their son rolled his eyes in exasperation.
Such worry-inducing parents.
Today, they’d gone shopping for portable trip essentials.
Sunscreen, sun-protective clothing, sun hats, high-end walking sticks… They’d had all these before, but they got stolen last time.
And this was already the second round.
“Oh my, we have a guest?” Cheng Ai Mei hooked her sunglasses down her nose with a finger, whispering to the side—but loud enough for the whole living room to hear. “Old Ye, who’s that kid?”
“The Qing Dynasty is long gone—no more ‘young master,'” Ye Ze corrected first, slipping on his own sunglasses. “He’s kinda dark; can’t see clearly. But I can tell Chi Mo’s face is dark enough to drip ink.”
The weird tension thickened. Li Ran was utterly confused. He stood close to Chi Mo, with a good view of everyone in the living room.
He noticed the grandparents were enthusiastic, but it didn’t feel entirely genuine.
Old folks who’d lived a lifetime could act convincingly.
Seeing a new face, they beamed and approached with cheerful greetings. “This is Qi Zhi, right? I finally remember—we’ve met before. Hasn’t come in so long, didn’t recognize you.”
“Your last visit was ages ago.”
“Not staying for dinner?”
“Oh, staying for dinner? Grandma just means have dinner here, don’t leave too early, heh heh.”
“Not staying the night, right?”
“Grandpa wouldn’t mind if you did, but the bedding’s not aired out, room’s not cleaned. Your grandma and I are old; we get winded just walking, can’t manage it. Chi Mo only knows about running the company—never done housework…”
“No problem,” Qi Zhi said casually, offhandedly. “I can share a room with Li Ran.”
Li Ran’s hackles rose again.
They were just talking, and he was content to stand quietly as Chi Mo’s mascot. How did the topic swing back to him?
The words “No way” were already on the tip of his tongue, not yet voiced, when Chi Mo scoffed first. “Why would you think I’d allow a tenant to bring people into the rooms?”
With a sidelong glance at Li Ran, he adopted the tone of a landlord who just wanted his place kept clean and tenants following rules. “Li Ran, no bringing boyfriends or girlfriends home.” For fairness, he added, “Or other friends.”
“I-I won’t… I don’t have any. I don’t,” Li Ran waved his hands in small frantic motions, assuring him.
At dinner, Qi Zhi learned the full story. Li Ran explained how Mr. Chi had helped him out, letting him stay here temporarily.
He wanted to say: If you had nowhere to live, come to me—we’re closer than with my cousin, right? But Chi Mo kept staring him down with what felt like a death threat, so he didn’t dare act out.
Hearing Li Ran call him “Mr. Chi” over and over, Qi Zhi concluded they weren’t close—just your standard landlord-tenant setup.
Qi Zhi had come over because summer break meant wandering around. In past years, he’d visit his cousin too, but back then the family hadn’t lived here.
During the two years Chi Mo was abroad, Qi Zhi hadn’t seen him.
“Bro, is the company busy lately? If not too much, come home and have a meal with the family,” Qi Zhi said.
Chi Mo ignored him.
“Bro?”
Qi Zhi tried again: “…Cousin?”
“Speak,” Chi Mo said flatly.
“Have a meal with the family.”
“No time.”
“The company can’t be that busy. And you’re so successful now—skipping one day won’t hurt. Family needs time too…”
Chi Mo said irritably, “Shut up and eat. Or get out.”
“Fine.” Qi Zhi shut up.
With no one paying him attention, Li Ran finally had space to think. Chi Mo sat beside him as usual, quietly pushing over dishes he noticed Li Ran liking, or sliding him water when he seemed thirsty. The fur Li Ran had bristled today was gently smoothed down in this strangely tender way, and his thoughts wandered.
He hadn’t realized these two were cousins—Chi Mo’s mom was Qi Zhi’s aunt. Blood-related and close.
But their relationship…
Maybe it was his imagination, but Li Ran noticed that whenever Qi Zhi called “Bro,” Chi Mo was utterly cold and unresponsive. Only “Cousin” got a reluctant reply.
Clear boundaries.
Chi Mo wasn’t the type to flatter or save face. Holding power and wealth, he had no need to empathize.
Though he never showed emotions openly, Li Ran could clearly see from the details how he expressed like and dislike.
Chi Mo didn’t like Qi Zhi, but didn’t hate him either. Otherwise, he wouldn’t allow him in the house.
Chi Mo didn’t like his mom—not even willing to hear her mentioned.
Chi Mo didn’t like his family—not even sparing time for a meal.
This was what Li Ran gleaned from the dinner and their sparse exchanges.
Auntie’s pork ribs were perfectly colored, aromatic, and tender—deliciously glutinous. Li Ran ate quietly, shoveling rice into his mouth, afraid to miss a bite or he’d starve.
But then he paused, staring at the last rib in the plate in front of him.
Like a puppy eyeing a bone.
He picked it up with his chopsticks, hesitated for two seconds while staring, swallowed, then quietly placed it in Chi Mo’s bowl.
Chi Mo looked at him.
Qi Zhi looked at him too.
Li Ran kept his head down, eating.
“A’Dai, you and my cousin… you’re not that close, right?” Qi Zhi suddenly sounded unsure.
Chi Mo told him to shut up.
And picked up the rib to eat it.
Li Ran sneaked a glance, eyes wide.
Seeing Chi Mo eat it with relish made him a bit happy inside.
After dinner, Chi Mo ordered Qi Zhi to leave. Cheng Ai Mei and Ye Ze headed upstairs to rest. Chi Mo picked up several summer homework books from the coffee table to check.
Still in his suit, he crossed his legs, broad shoulders relaxed against the sofa as he casually flipped open one of Li Ran’s homework books. He looked every bit the executive about to sign a billion-dollar deal.
Li Ran, who had planned to trail after the grandparents to bed, watched his summer homework get picked up—and felt his heart lift with it, dangling anxiously in his throat.
“So many blanks,” Chi Mo said after flipping two pages. “Want me to do it for you?”
In an instant, Li Ran felt the oppressive aura of a teacher.
Terrifying. Scary.
He sat ramrod straight on the opposite sofa, legs together, hands on knees, head bowed, not daring to look up.
“Speak,” Chi Mo said.
Li Ran did: “Mr. Chi…”
“Li Ran.”
“…Huh?”
Li Ran slowly raised his eyes and saw Chi Mo frowning, looking displeased.
“What’s wrong… Mr. Chi?”
Chi Mo closed the homework book. “Li Ran, are we strangers?”
Li Ran blinked, puzzled. “No, not strangers.”
“Then why do you always call me Mr. Chi? Are we that distant?”
“…”
“No more ‘Mr. Chi’ from now on.”
“Then what do I call you?” Li Ran was stumped.
Chi Mo pondered—gazing at Li Ran’s face, his eyes drifting unconsciously to his lips. Li Ran didn’t notice.
After a moment, something flickered almost imperceptibly in his eyes. He abruptly opened the homework book again, studied the many problems Li Ran hadn’t done, and gave a standard suggestion: “Call me Bro.”
“Not up for discussion. You will call me that.”
