Chapter 9

The moment his head smacked against the door panel with a “thunk,” Jiang Chu wanted to curse. Qin Zui, are you fucking insane?

When he finally steadied himself, holding his head, and saw Qin Zui heading toward the bathroom with a look of someone who wanted to rub something but couldn’t quite bring himself to, and a gait bordering on furious, Jiang Chu’s buzzing brain roughly pieced together what had just happened.

Jiang Chu raised his hand and stared at his loosely curled fingers. The sensation of what he’d grabbed slowly came back to his palm. He couldn’t help leaning against the wall and laughing quietly, muttering, “Shit.”

His laughter threshold was already low when he was drunk. Replaying the scene over and over in his head only made him laugh harder.

By the time Qin Zui came out of the bathroom with a dark face, Jiang Chu had already changed his shoes and thrown himself onto the sofa, one leg dangling over the armrest, still secretly chuckling. Zhou Teng was beside him, looking at him in confusion.

“Did I just grab your little chicken?” Jiang Chu was sure he was way too drunk. Even he wanted to punch himself for the amusement in his voice. “Did it fall off? Does it hurt?”

“Get lost.” Qin Zui gritted his teeth.

Jiang Chu rolled over dramatically, nearly falling off the sofa, laughing so hard he felt sick.

Now that he was home, he didn’t have to hold back. He pushed himself off the sofa, stumbled into the bathroom, and threw up the alcohol he’d had that night. Feeling a bit better, he took a quick shower.

After the shower, he realized he hadn’t brought a change of clothes.

His brain, steamed by the hot water, wasn’t working too well. Jiang Chu pulled out the underwear he’d just taken off, shook it out, and decided he really didn’t want to put it back on.

He was just thinking about just going out commando. After all, Qin Zui was a guy, not a girl. And he’d just grabbed his brother’s brother…

Jiang Chu leaned against the vanity counter, his head spinning, and started laughing again.

While he was laughing in the bathroom, Qin Zui was squatting in the living room, face to face with Zhou Teng, trying to teach him to shake hands.

His mood right now was like a crumpled rag, stuck in his chest, unable to go up or down. It was basically the equivalent of dry-chewing an entire pack of cigarettes.

When Jiang Chu had grabbed him with that momentum, Qin Zui genuinely had a moment of panic, wondering if he’d be torn off. It was still a bit burning. The feeling of being gripped lingered, and he couldn’t even tell if it hurt. It just felt swollen.

It was a complete torture from the “root” up, something he couldn’t tolerate and couldn’t show.

What he should do now is slam the door to his room and check if there was any other functional damage.

But Jiang Chu was making a racket in the bathroom, throwing up and showering, sounding like he could fall asleep in there any minute. Qin Zui had taken care of drunks for too many years. Afraid Jiang Chu might drown or something, he could only endure his annoyance and stand guard by the door.

Hearing a clatter from the bathroom, Qin Zui frowned, stood up, and twisted the doorknob, walking straight in.

As soon as he saw Jiang Chu’s state, he pressed his lips together, turned around, and walked back to the living room.

He’d thought Jiang Chu had slipped. In reality, Jiang Chu was just leaning against the counter a bit too hard, knocking the toothbrush cup and toothpaste from the vanity into the basin. He was naked, bracing himself on the basin, trying to fish them out.

Jiang Chu was startled by Qin Zui suddenly opening the door. His instinct was to cover himself, but then he realized they were both men, so there was nothing to cover.

The problem was, the moment he saw Qin Zui’s face, he wanted to laugh again.

“What are the odds, I grabbed it on the first try?” Since the door was open anyway, Jiang Chu tossed the underwear he’d pulled out back into the washing machine and walked straight out, draping himself over Qin Zui’s shoulder.

His body wasn’t even dry, and his hair was still dripping, slicked back from his forehead. A few drops splashed onto Qin Zui’s neck. Jiang Chu felt Qin Zui tense up, ready to shove him off. So he just leaned his full weight into him, his forehead falling onto Qin Zui’s shoulder. He laughed and said, “Hey, I’m dizzy.”

Without even opening his eyes, he could feel from Qin Zui’s rigid posture that he desperately wanted to beat him up.

Jiang Chu had already figured out the limits of this game. He completely ignored Qin Zui’s reaction and just found it hilarious.

This kid really got funnier the more you teased him.

“Can you put on some pants?” Qin Zui asked, suppressing his irritation. He tried to move away, but Jiang Chu leaned in the same direction.

Afraid of repeating the previous scene, Qin Zui had no choice but to grab Jiang Chu’s arm and drag him toward the bedroom.

He’d actually thought earlier that this guy only mumbled when drunk and wasn’t annoying. His brain must have been kicked by Zhou Teng.

“I’m going to sleep. I’ll put them on tomorrow.” Jiang Chu was already operating on autopilot. As he spoke, his hands got itchy again, and he tugged at Qin Zui’s waistband. “Were you going commando today? That’d explain how I grabbed it so easily.”

Qin Zui yanked his arm and flung him onto the bed. There was no reasoning with a drunk person. Qin Zui himself was getting dizzy from anger. Without caring what position Jiang Chu landed in, he turned to leave.

Finally, he could lie down. Even though he was face down, Jiang Chu let out a contented sigh, and his consciousness started drifting away in all directions.

Hearing Qin Zui about to close the door and leave, he yelled out, still groggy, his face buried in the pillow: “Qin Zui.”

Qin Zui paused mid-motion, his face dark. He forced out the last shred of patience and stared at Jiang Chu’s bare ass, waiting for him to speak.

“Pretty big.” Jiang Chu’s body, from shoulder to hip, trembled with a muffled laugh.

Qin Zui slammed the door shut with a bang.

Jiang Chu slept straight through until 10:30 the next morning.

When he opened his eyes, he wondered if Qin Zui had come in during the night to beat him up. His head throbbed dully. He sat up for a long time, completely disoriented.

He leaned against the headboard, looking disheveled and dazed. He glanced at his own morning glory and tried to recall why he’d ended up sleeping naked.

When the full memory of the previous night came back, Jiang Chu didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. He pulled a pair of pants from the closet, pulled them on, and staggered out, scratching his head.

“Qin Zui?” he called out first, then went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of soda water. Qin Zui didn’t answer, and he wasn’t there either.

He checked the bathroom. Nothing.

Still asleep?

Jiang Chu knocked on Qin Zui’s bedroom door. He pushed it open a crack and peeked inside. Empty.

He was a bit confused. Normally, he’d be off to work by now, so he had no idea what Qin Zui did in the mornings.

Had he run off because his little chicken got grabbed?

No way, right? His clothes and big bag were still in the closet. His blanket wasn’t even folded.

But thinking about how Qin Zui usually reacted if Jiang Chu even touched his shoulder, like he was ready to fight…

Jiang Chu clenched his hand and analyzed his own grip strength. He’d been drunk and out of control.

The soda bottle crinkled in his grip, suddenly making him nervous.

—What if he’d actually hurt him yesterday, and Qin Zui had gone to the hospital?

Jiang Chu imagined that pitiful, panicked scene and felt a sympathetic ache in his own balls. Various advertisements for male health issues flashed through his mind.

Qin Zui had an allergic reaction on his first day here. If he ended up impotent by the second week, how was Jiang Chu supposed to explain that to Qin Shuman?

This kind of thing was dangerous to think about. The more he thought, the more possibilities came to mind.

Spooked by his own imagination, Jiang Chu’s face tightened. He checked the balcony and the study. No sign of Qin Zui. Only Zhou Teng appeared, jumping down from somewhere, rubbing against his calf.

Jiang Chu kicked him aside, took a gulp of soda water, and searched everywhere for his phone.

He fished around for ages before finally pulling it out of the pocket of the pants he’d thrown in the washing machine. He wanted to call Qin Zui but realized he didn’t have his number. They weren’t even friends on WeChat.

He was about to call Jiang Liantian in confusion and ask if Qin Zui had gone to find his mom, when the sound of keys jingling came from outside the apartment door. Qin Zui walked in, carrying a bag of noodles and two stalks of celery, radiating the morning heat of August.

“…You went to buy noodles?” Jiang Chu leaned against the doorframe and sighed in relief. Based on the look of things, he was probably fine.

Before he could fully relax, the blurry memories from last night came rushing back with crystal clarity, sharpened by the sight of Qin Zui’s face. Not a single detail was forgotten.

Including the feel of his hand, and his own parting words: “Pretty big.”

Shit.

“Pretty big.”

Jiang Chu, are you sick? You say “pretty big” to a teenager whose junk you just assaulted!

A wave of awkwardness washed over him. He was about to say something sheepish when Qin Zui met his gaze, expressionless. He changed his shoes, picked up his noodles and celery, and walked toward the kitchen.

“Still eating noodles?” Jiang Chu’s brain went blank, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

Qin Zui stopped and looked at him. Jiang Chu immediately put on a sincere face: “Great. I’m really in the mood for noodles today.”

Zhou Teng came over and rubbed against Qin Zui’s leg, meowing twice.

Qin Zui bent down to pet the cat, ignoring Jiang Chu. He went into the kitchen, washed his hands, and started boiling the noodles.

Jiang Chu rubbed his nose and went to wash up.

When he came back from washing up, Jiang Chu was still worried.

While peeing, he’d tried squeezing himself. He’d almost sprayed the windowsill.

If he’d actually hurt Qin Zui, and Qin Zui was too embarrassed to say anything and just put up with it, ending up with a permanent problem, Jiang Chu would have ruined his life.

“Qin Zui.” Jiang Chu bit into a cigarette, trying to sound sincere. “If anything seems off down there, you need to tell me.”

The knife Qin Zui was using to chop the celery made a “crunch” sound. Jiang Chu braced himself and continued: “This is kind of important, you know.”

Another crunch from the knife, but this time it wasn’t a “crunch.” It was a “clang” as Qin Zui slammed the knife down on the cutting board.

Then he rustled around in the bag and pulled out something else. Jiang Chu was still trying to gauge through the fabric of Qin Zui’s pants if there was any swelling when a small cardboard box flew at his chest.

He almost thought it was the knife flying at him. He quickly cupped his hands to catch it and looked at it. Hangover medicine.

“Get the fuck out.” Qin Zui picked up the knife again, refusing to even look at him.