Qi Bailu waited in the car for a while before Cheng Wenhui’s vehicle pulled up. Through the windshield, Qi Bailu watched him push open the door and stride over. Cheng Wenhui knocked on the passenger window with visible irritation. As Qi Bailu rolled it down, the scent of roast duck wafted in from the man’s clothes.
“You’ve really outdone yourself, haven't you?” Cheng Wenhui looked at him coldly.
“Was it you who told him?”
“If I hadn't suddenly remembered, there’s no telling what state you’d be in right now. If I were Chen Xiangfeng, I would have thrown sulfuric acid in your face.”
Did he think they were in a television drama? Qi Bailu moved to roll the window back up, but Cheng Wenhui placed a hand on the glass to stop him. “What did he want with you?”
Qi Bailu thought for a moment, then continued to raise the window. Cheng Wenhui’s temper flared; he pointed a finger at him through the glass, but Qi Bailu was looking past him. He saw Zheng Kunyu walking down the long flight of stone steps alone, the cold wind whipping the hem of his overcoat back.
Zheng Kunyu walked up to Cheng Wenhui and said something. Cheng Wenhui replied, then nodded, returned to his car, and drove away first. Once Cheng Wenhui was gone, Zheng Kunyu scanned the surroundings to ensure no paparazzi were tailing them. Satisfied it was safe, he opened the driver’s side door. Even as he started the engine, Zheng Kunyu showed no intention of explaining himself.
Qi Bailu waited for him to speak, but Zheng Kunyu remained silent. It wasn't until they had driven a fair distance that Zheng Kunyu asked slowly, “What did he say to you?”
Qi Bailu watched his face in the side mirror but said nothing.
Zheng Kunyu gave a cold, mocking laugh. “Scared witless?”
Qi Bailu remained silent, staring out the window, maintaining his usual air of indifference.
When the car stopped at a red light, Zheng Kunyu studied him closely. Reaching out with a gloved hand, he pinched Qi Bailu’s chin, forcing him to look his way. “Or are you angry?” he asked thoughtfully.
Angry at what? Angry at whom? Qi Bailu brushed his hand away. Zheng Kunyu returned his hand to the steering wheel and said flatly, “I thought I was the one who should be angry.”
“As if you aren't angry all the time.”
Zheng Kunyu shot him a glance, his cold gaze lingering on Qi Bailu’s face. The look clearly meant: *You know exactly why I’m angry,* and *The culprit actually has the nerve to talk back.* But Qi Bailu was perfectly composed, acting as if he hadn't seen a thing, having mastered the art of being impervious to both threats and persuasion.
“No matter what he said, don’t believe a single word of it.”
Qi Bailu suddenly said, “He said you must really like me. He said that sooner or later, I’ll end up just like him.” Zheng Kunyu’s eyelid twitched, but before he could speak, Qi Bailu added, “Indeed, I don’t believe a word of it.”
Zheng Kunyu’s voice hardened. “Enough.”
Qi Bailu watched him quietly. Zheng Kunyu knew the boy was deliberately trying to make him uncomfortable today. He frowned, a hint of revulsion in his expression. “How could you ever be like him?”
Seeing Qi Bailu lower his eyes and return to silence, Zheng Kunyu remarked coldly, “Aren't you usually quite good at playing dumb? Giving up on the act?”
“What am I playing dumb about?”
Zheng Kunyu gripped the steering wheel tightly, his lips pressed into a grim line. He didn't slow down as the road curved, and the momentum sent Qi Bailu sliding toward the side of the passenger seat. Once Qi Bailu had steadied himself by grabbing the seatbelt, Zheng Kunyu finally spoke, though he changed the subject: “In the past two years, Chen Xiangfeng and I haven't met privately, nor has there been anything else.”
The subtext was: *I’ve only slept with you.*
Qi Bailu replied, “That’s between the two of you.”
Zheng Kunyu had no patience left for this stalemate. With a frozen expression, he said, “Whether you’re throwing a tantrum over what happened before or you resent me in your heart, I will make everything clear. If you really want me to get tired of you, you’d better learn to be well-behaved and a bit smarter. Don't act like I’ve carved a piece of flesh out of you every time I fuck you.”
Qi Bailu desperately wanted to hit him, but he forced himself to endure it. “You only ask what he said, but you don't dare ask why he touched me?”
“He’s sick. Why bother arguing with a madman?”
“And you? Aren't you even more sick?”
“Qi Bailu, you’d best not push your luck.” Zheng Kunyu rarely addressed him by his full name like this; his gaze had become exceptionally sharp.
“Do you know what I think? He kept staring at my arms. I thought he was looking for a birthmark, or a mole, or that scar, but it was none of those. I couldn't figure out what he was searching for, but when I saw him clutching my hand, you didn't seem surprised by his behavior at all. After I got back to the car, I finally realized—I should have realized sooner. He was looking for needle marks!”
At the final words, Zheng Kunyu stopped looking at the road. He slammed on the brakes, pulling the car to the curb, and turned to stare at him with an incredibly piercing gaze.
Qi Bailu continued, “That was his real goal. He thought I was using drugs, didn't he?”
Zheng Kunyu said nothing, but his eyes provided Qi Bailu with a clear answer.
“What else could I think? Why would he come looking for me specifically, and why was he so certain? Zheng Kunyu, tell me the truth. You can lie about anything else, but this time you must answer me honestly: do you touch that stuff?”
“What do you think?” Zheng Kunyu asked back calmly.
A drug user’s physical and mental state would be abnormal. Qi Bailu had lived and slept with Zheng Kunyu for so long; if Zheng Kunyu were truly using, it would be impossible for him to notice nothing. In fact, Qi Bailu knew he had smoked marijuana. Twice in over two years—once he had seen it, and once he had smelled it on him. The things looked like cigars and were left brazenly in a drawer by Zheng Kunyu. Qi Bailu had almost mistaken them, but he hadn't been surprised then, because Zheng Kunyu hadn't tried to hide it from him. Marijuana and injected drugs were not on the same level.
“Don't play games with me, and don't try to lie! I want to hear you say it.”
“Do you care what I say?”
“Then give me your hand!” Qi Bailu commanded. Seeing Zheng Kunyu remain motionless, he repeated, “Give it to me!”
When Zheng Kunyu still didn't react, Qi Bailu reached out to grab his hand and tried to pull up his sleeve to check his arm. The sleeve wouldn't budge because he was wearing a dress shirt with cufflinks underneath. Qi Bailu unbuckled Zheng’s seatbelt, pulled the overcoat off his shoulders, forced him out of the jacket, then the suit coat, and finally unfastened the cufflinks, messily rolling up the sleeves.
Zheng Kunyu cooperated throughout the process. As Qi Bailu stripped him, he kept his eyes lowered, watching the boy. First the right arm, then the left. Qi Bailu inspected them with intense focus, but as expected, they were clean—not a single needle mark. Qi Bailu didn't know how to react. For a moment, he desperately racked his brain for every detail of their past, wondering if he had ever truly paid attention to the man’s arms. He didn't even know what he was suspicious of anymore.
Just as Qi Bailu was about to let go of his wrist, Zheng Kunyu gripped his hand firmly. “So that’s how you see me. Sorry to disappoint you.”
Qi Bailu stared at him, his eyes still full of doubt. Zheng Kunyu took one of Qi’s hands and placed it against his own neck, while using his other hand to unbutton his shirt. He pressed Qi’s hand inside his collar. Qi Bailu’s fingers were ice cold, but Zheng Kunyu didn't even flinch. He said expressionlessly, “You’ve slept with me for so long; is there any part of my body you haven't touched? Do you want to look here too? Maybe I inject into the artery.”
“You rogue!”
Qi Bailu couldn't wrench his hand free, so he instinctively squeezed Zheng Kunyu’s neck, shaking him to make him let go. Instead, Zheng Kunyu leaned his upper body forward, pinning both of Qi’s hands. “To be able to think of that level... I suppose I underestimated you.”
“Did you touch it or not?”
In the brief silence, the only sound was the slight creaking of the leather seats. Qi Bailu was pinned in his seat by the seatbelt as Zheng Kunyu pulled him closer, pressing down with his upper body. He looked down at him, creating a sense of overwhelming pressure in the cramped space.
“Are you afraid?”
It was a stupid question. What normal person wouldn't want to stay far away from an addict? Zheng Kunyu sometimes didn't use protection when they had sex, which made Qi Bailu even more anxious, even though he knew Zheng’s physical exam reports were always healthy.
“That’s right. If you dare lie to me about something like this, I won't let you go even if I die.”
“If I told you, would you believe me?”
“Are you worth believing?”
Zheng Kunyu tilted his head slightly, as if studying Qi Bailu’s expression more seriously. To Qi Bailu, his expression held a strange, cold detachment. Zheng Kunyu said, “Why did I let you off back then?”
Qi Bailu’s eyes asked: *What are you talking about?*
Zheng Kunyu lowered his head further, his lips hovering just above the crown of Qi Bailu’s head. He ground his teeth and said, “I should have just played with you until I was bored and watched you die. Why did I bother saving you? If I raised a dog, it would at least know how to bark pleasingly to get in my good graces. You only know how to anger me. You heartless thing, what do I even want with you?”
This was the second time Zheng Kunyu had called him heartless. His face was unreadable, looking as though he meant every word rather than just trying to scare him. Though Qi Bailu felt a chill, he met his gaze. “What do you want with me? When you’re sleeping with me, you look happier than a dog. Now you’re the one cursing me. Anyway, 'fifty years' was your own idea. It’s not too late to regret it.”
Hearing such biting words, Zheng Kunyu actually laughed coldly. The sound fell from above Qi Bailu’s head like ice shards. His gaze was as if he were branding a "50-year shelf life" label onto Qi Bailu’s forehead. Zheng Kunyu said, “I won't settle scores with you today. But one day... if you ever dare to act like you did last time...”
Zheng Kunyu’s fingers loosened, but they didn't move away from Qi Bailu’s wrist. Instead, they slid slowly over the wrist bone, coming to rest on a patch of clean, dry skin. Qi Bailu shuddered, instantly understanding his implication. “You wouldn't dare!”
But he knew there was nothing Zheng Kunyu wouldn't dare. In an instant, several thoughts flashed through Qi Bailu’s mind. Looking at the situation, Zheng Kunyu wasn't going to tell him the truth, but a nagging suspicion remained—a feeling that there was something he hadn't quite figured out.
“We’ll just see who ends up wagging their tail and begging for mercy like a dog.”
If he really dared to do such a thing to him, Qi Bailu would be truly horrified. He looked at the man as if he were a lunatic. Seeing that Qi Bailu had learned to be quiet and stop talking back, Zheng Kunyu ignored his gaze and leaned down to kiss his lips. The kiss was somewhat cloying, as if infused with lingering affection, but it made Qi Bailu’s skin crawl. Zheng Kunyu’s kissing technique was damnably good, and one of his hands pressed against Qi Bailu’s thigh, stroking upward with the kiss, deliberately trying to provoke a reaction.
They were on a public street. Qi Bailu watched the cars and people passing by outside the window and felt a strong urge to punch him. Just as he was about to lose his patience, a sharp knocking sounded on the car window. Qi Bailu looked over Zheng Kunyu’s shoulder and saw a traffic officer. He pushed Zheng several times before finally shoving him back. Although he knew the privacy film made it impossible to see inside, Qi Bailu still felt annoyed. He instinctively glanced in the rearview mirror to check his face; other than his lips being a bit red, nothing seemed amiss.
The officer was there to remind them about illegal parking. Zheng Kunyu had no intention of rolling down the window to exchange pleasantries. He slowly started the car and steered it back into traffic. Qi Bailu glanced at him; he had intended to ignore him entirely, but his gaze eventually dropped. He gestured that Zheng hadn't put his seatbelt back on. Zheng Kunyu kept his eyes on the road and silently pulled the belt across and buckled it.
After they returned, Qi Bailu thought Zheng would finish what he had started in the car, but instead, Zheng Kunyu began packing a suitcase. Qi Bailu stood at the bedroom door watching for a while, wondering if Zheng was angry enough to move out. Before joy could even register on his face, Zheng Kunyu stopped folding clothes and looked back. “Seen enough? You have two hours.”
Qi Bailu leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his eyes silently asking, “Where to?” Zheng Kunyu didn't answer. Qi Bailu suddenly remembered Zheng Kunyu had mentioned taking him to Paris this year to film a makeup advertisement.
“You want to spend the New Year there? When did you book the tickets? Why didn't I know anything about this?”
“Ask Cheng Wenhui.”
Had they discussed this outside the car earlier? Qi Bailu didn't want to go. His English was poor; once abroad, he would be entirely dependent on Zheng Kunyu. He would have to eat and live with him, listening only to him. At home, he could at least lock Zheng Kunyu out of his room.
So Qi Bailu stood there, unmoving. After organizing for a while, Zheng Kunyu looked up. “If you have no clothes to wear when we get there, don't come crying to me.”
Qi Bailu sneered inwardly and turned back to his own bedroom. The sound of the suitcase snapping shut felt like a guillotine blade falling. Qi Bailu didn't believe it—what kind of mountain of blades or sea of fire could Paris possibly be?
***
