Chapter 110 - The Gilded Cage
Pei Cangyu stirred from a hazy, fragmented slumber, the muffled cadence of voices drifting from the entryway. He bolted upright, heart hammering a brief, frantic rhythm against his ribs before he crept toward the bedroom door. Peering through the narrow gap, he saw Bai Shi standing in the center of the living room, flanked by a woman in a sharp, professional suit and a portly man sporting a brightly colored polo shirt. Their conversation was hushed, a low murmur that felt intrusive against the morning quiet.
The man was the first to spot him. A wide, beaming grin split his face as he waved enthusiastically, his voice suddenly booming through the house. Bai Shi turned, his expression settling into its usual mask of placid calm as he approached. "Good morning," he said softly.
Pei offered a clumsy, half-awake wave to the radiant stranger before leaning toward Bai Shi, his voice a low hiss. "Who are they?"
Bai Shi’s gaze swept over Pei’s disheveled state—his rumpled clothes and sleep-mussed hair. "Go change. We have guests."
When Pei re-emerged, the group had migrated toward the expansive windows. The woman, a Ms. Polly, was meticulously noting details on a clipboard, while the man—Jose—was a whirlwind of motion and speech.
"This is Jose," Bai Shi introduced, his tone polite yet distant. "He is the representative elected by our community, and he lives right next door."
Jose didn't wait for a formal greeting. He surged forward, his large, calloused hands clapping firmly onto Pei’s shoulders. He was a man of South American descent, with deep, expressive features that seemed to magnify every fleeting emotion. His thick, salt-and-pepper brows furrowed in a display of exaggerated sympathy as he pulled Pei into a series of rhythmic cheek-kisses, his mouth moving in a relentless stream of a language Pei couldn't begin to fathom. Even after releasing him, Jose continued to gesticulate wildly, his thumb and forefinger pinched together in a trembling "OK" sign that punctuated his rapid-fire delivery.
Finally, with a long, soulful "Oh~" that one might reserve for watching a kitten take its first precarious steps, Jose patted Pei’s shoulder one last time and looked toward the heavens, concluding his epic monologue.
Pei looked at Bai Shi, utterly bewildered. "What did he say?"
"He said he is very happy to meet you," Bai Shi translated dryly.
"..."
"And may God bless you."
Pei stared blankly. "..."
"And this is Ms. Polly," Bai Shi continued, gesturing to the woman. "Our renovation agent."
Pei’s brain finally caught up with the conversation. "Renovation? What are we renovating?"
"We are hosting a housewarming party soon. We will be inviting all the neighbors to attend."
Though Jose couldn't understand their Mandarin, he was an expert at reading the atmosphere. Sensing the shift in the conversation, he draped an arm around Pei’s shoulder and launched into another passionate speech, eventually looking at Bai Shi for a translation.
Bai Shi offered a polite, practiced smile. "He is still welcoming you, but I don't feel like translating anymore. Just assume I have. He is a man of... excessive enthusiasm."
"I can see that," Pei muttered, offering a polite smile of his own.
A sharp, melodic dog whistle suddenly pierced the air, followed by a chorus of frantic barking and a woman’s distant shout. Jose’s ears perked up; he shouted something back and hurried toward the front door.
"His daughters are walking the dog," Bai Shi explained, glancing out the window. "It seems the animal decided to relieve itself on our doorstep."
Pei peered out to see two young women, likely in their late teens. One wore a daring camisole and hot pants, while the other was dressed in a tube-top dress, their arms raised to shield their eyes from the blistering, uncompromising sun. They held the leash of a restless dog while Jose appeared to be giving them a stern lecture.
"Let them in," Pei suggested, feeling a pang of sympathy. "It’s too hot to make them stand out there."
The sisters, Santino and Laces, were vibrant embodiments of summer. Though younger than Pei, they stood nearly as tall, possessing a robust, sun-kissed health that made them seem even more imposing. While Bai Shi led Jose and Ms. Polly upstairs to inspect the rooms, the sisters remained below, content to lounge on the floor and dote on their dog.
Pei hesitated at the foot of the stairs, caught between the urge to follow Bai Shi and the obligation to stay with the guests. Bai Shi stepped behind him, his hands resting heavily on Pei’s shoulders. He leaned down, his breath ghosting against Pei’s ear in a way that made the fine hairs on his neck stand up. "Take care of our guests, would you?"
The intimacy made Pei’s skin prickle. He shied away, catching Santino’s knowing, mischievous smirk as she watched them.
Left alone with the sisters, Pei felt a sudden surge of social inadequacy. He retreated to the kitchen to find a kettle, but the layout of the house remained a mystery to him. A tanned, supple arm reached past him, fingers curling around a glass. He turned to find Santino’s radiant face inches from his. She pointed toward the tap, and after Pei nodded in confusion, she filled the glass and drank deeply, seemingly accustomed to the local water.
Laces followed suit, taking the glass from her sister. Seeing Pei staring, she offered the cup to him. Pei took it, his gaze lingering on the vibrant orange smudge of lipstick on the rim. He felt a strange sense of pressure. These women were like figures from a classical oil painting—voluptuous, soft, yet radiating a strength that felt more grounded than his own. They were a riot of color: neon shorts, sun-gold tops, silver-trimmed skirts, and the shimmering sheen of sweat. They were two walking summers, vibrant and alive, smelling of dried sweat and ozone.
He sat with them on the floor, offering beer and waffles. The language barrier was a thick wall, but laughter and exaggerated gestures bridged the gap. Santino traced her name in spilled beer on the floor; Pei mimicked the action with his own name, leaving the girls baffled by the complex, alien strokes of the Chinese characters.
As Santino opened a second bottle, she gestured between Pei and the upstairs rooms, mimicking a kiss. She was asking about his relationship with Bai Shi.
Pei shook his head vigorously. "Friends... no, that's not quite right either. Anyway..."
The sisters exchanged a knowing look. Santino then pointed between Pei and Laces, drawing a heart in the air. Pei froze. To reject the suggestion felt like a slight in the heat of the moment. He looked at Laces; her face was flushed from the alcohol, her orange-tinted lips parted slightly. Her thick lashes cast long, heavy shadows over her eyes.
Pei felt his throat go dry. Driven by the intoxicating atmosphere and the sheer, vibrant proximity of her, he leaned in. Or perhaps she leaned in first. Their lips met—a soft, experimental contact. Laces’s lashes brushed his cheek like the wings of a moth. In that fleeting moment, an intrusive, traitorous thought flickered through his mind: *Bai Shi’s eyelashes are long, too.*
They pulled apart. Laces studied him for a moment, then turned to Santino and shook her head with a faint, regretful smile. The spark wasn't there. The summer heat wave broke, but the camaraderie remained.
The sound of footsteps signaled the end of the tour. Pei, acting on instinct, hurriedly hid a magazine Laces had brought him—a television guide—under the sofa, gesturing for her to let him keep it. She smiled and nodded.
As the guests departed, the sisters each planted a kiss on Pei’s cheeks. Jose gave Bai Shi a helpless, fatherly shrug, to which Bai Shi offered no reaction.
Once the door clicked shut, the silence in the house felt heavy and suffocating. Pei followed Bai Shi into the kitchen. "They’re... very outgoing," he remarked, trying to break the tension.
"Are they?" Bai Shi replied evenly, his back to Pei as he began preparing sandwiches. "Were you able to converse?"
"Not really. Just gestures."
"Did you gesture for help?" Bai Shi asked, his voice devoid of any inflection.
Pei bristled. He spent a few seconds trying to discern if Bai Shi was truly angry, then decided he didn't care. He turned to leave, intending to walk right out the front door and find the sisters to call the police. *Why didn't I do it earlier?* he cursed himself. *It must be Stockholm Syndrome.*
He grabbed the door handle and yanked. It didn't budge. He pulled again, harder. It was locked tight.
He turned to find Bai Shi sitting on a high stool, sipping milk. In his hand, he held a sleek, black remote control.
Pei examined the door, noticing for the first time the subtle, high-tech modifications to the frame. He ran his hand along the window sill, finding a similar, raised edge. "You’ve turned this place into a prison?"
"You could look at it that way," Bai Shi said, his tone leisurely, almost conversational.
Pei stared at him, the reality of his situation crashing down once more. He felt a wave of self-loathing for having been fooled by the talk of "renovations" and "home."
Sensing the rising storm in Pei’s eyes, Bai Shi sighed, a sound of weary, practiced defeat. "There have been robberies in the area lately. We have to be careful."
"Robberies?" Pei’s voice was cold, sharp as a blade. "Is that why you modified the house *recently*?"
Bai Shi looked away, falling silent.
"I might be slow, Bai Shi, but I'm not stupid," Pei spat.
Bai Shi bit his lip, his gaze dropping. "I didn't mean it like that. I was just... looking for a topic of conversation."
Pei ignored him, turning to heat some biscuits in the microwave. He felt Bai Shi’s gaze on his back—a heavy, lingering stare that felt like a physical weight. When he finally glanced back, he saw Bai Shi looking at him with the eyes of an abandoned dog. Not the kind that seeks pity with sparkling, wet eyes, but the kind filled with a dark, hollow self-abandonment.
Pei couldn't tell if he felt pity or a deep-seated fear of what Bai Shi might do if left to rot in that state. He couldn't just leave it alone.
"Are you going to eat?" Pei asked gruffly.
The transformation was instantaneous. Bai Shi’s posture remained elegant, but there was an unmistakable metaphorical wagging of a tail in his demeanor.
"Let's go to the market," Bai Shi suggested after taking a single bite. "We need to buy things. To decorate. To make it feel like a home."
Pei swallowed a mouthful of dry biscuit. "Playing house again," he muttered.
But Bai Shi’s eyes were shining with a terrifyingly bright light—the same light Pei had seen years ago, right before Bai Shi had broken his leg.
Pei shuddered, the chill reaching deep into his bones.
