EWH 6

Xu Wanhe stared at the man in front of him like he couldn’t get enough.

He didn’t say much, just raised a brow and kept smoking, one cigarette after another.

Tang Ziyan couldn’t help but laugh.
“You really shouldn’t wear that color. It’s way too soft for you, doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Who the fuck are you, huh? Why do you care?” Xu Wanhe snapped with a frown, though it stung a little inside.

Fuck’s sake, he’d actually spent the whole damn morning dressing up.

Tang Ziyan’s eyes curved, lips red, teeth white. “How’s it going with that guy you just started seeing?”

Xu Wanhe flicked off the ash with a nasty look. “How do you think it’s going? Just the usual. You wanna know, then why aren’t you the one keeping me company? Now I don’t feel like telling you. If you’ve got the balls, guess.”

Tang Ziyan looked at him with interest. “You want me to guess? Sure, I can do that. You two were in touch before, weren’t you?”

Looking at that soft, easygoing expression, Xu Wanhe couldn’t even get properly mad. His voice dropped low. “You’ve got the kind of status people would kill for. There are plenty out there breaking their necks just to get where you are. And you’re still hell-bent on giving it all away.”

Tang Ziyan’s face didn’t change. “I’m sick of it… I don’t want to stay in this place anymore.”

Xu Wanhe raised a brow. “With a record like yours, you really think you can clean it all up?”

Tang Ziyan looked him in the eye. “Everything’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

Xu Wanhe understood exactly what he meant.

Aside from that kid, he really couldn’t think of any other reason.

Fucking childish.

A gangster and a cop, what the hell kind of ending could that even have?

Xu Wanhe took a deep drag, then couldn’t help but speak.

“…What if… you didn’t go. Would that be okay?”

Tang Ziyan froze, then gave a soft smile.

Xu Wanhe avoided his gaze, the mix of embarrassment and irritation burning through him. “Get lost. Go on, get the fuck out. The farther the better. I can’t stand your fake-ass face. Just looking at you pisses me off.”

Tang Ziyan had long gotten used to Xu Wanhe’s sudden mood swings. He kept his tone gentle and casually shifted the topic, deliberately steering clear of anything that might set the whole conversation off.

But from that moment on, Xu Wanhe completely lost interest. His brows stayed furrowed, weighed down by something he couldn’t shake off.

By the time the two finished eating, it was already afternoon. Xu Wanhe had drunk a bit too much and got one of his guys to drive him back to the nearest apartment in the city to rest.

Yang Moshou honestly felt like writing that leave slip and grabbing a meal before coming over had been the smartest decision he made all day.

He’d been waiting around the place nearly half the day when the man finally stumbled in, reeking of booze. He kicked off his shoes at the entrance, peeled off his watch, and tossed it on top of the shoe cabinet.

Someone stepped forward respectfully.
“Xu-ge, this is Dr Yang from the Central Hospital…”

Xu Wanhe didn’t even look up, busy unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. “Dr. Yang… what the hell do we need a doctor for…”

“Xu-ge, you told us last week, remember…”

Xu Wanhe finally looked up.
“The pain’s long fucking gone. I’m fine. Tell him to leave.”

Yang Moshou was pissed when he heard that, but didn’t dare snap back. A thought crossed his mind, and an idea came to him instantly.

He looked him over. “That shirt color suits you.”

It was only then that Xu Wanhe noticed someone else was even standing there. He turned his head and stared at him, a flicker of surprise slipping through his eyes.

Over thirty years, and no one had ever complimented his taste.

Yang Moshou’s eyes held a touch of admiration. “I know that brand well. Every year when they release new styles, I always go check them out at the mall. But honestly, it’s too expensive, so I’ve never bought any. Their 2013 color line was especially nice.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Xu Wanhe’s face felt a little warm.

“…For real?”

Yang Moshou nodded. “Yeah. You look great in it. You really know how to put an outfit together.”

Just like that, Xu Wanhe’s impression of the young doctor improved quite a bit. There was even a faint sense of regret they hadn’t met sooner. But he still kept his face cold.

“Mm… it’s alright, I guess.”

Yang Moshou let out a deep breath.
“You’ve got pretty bold taste, seriously. Dressed like this, you could walk straight onto a runway. You must read fashion magazines, right? I bet you do. The models on those catwalks all wear outfits just like this.”

Xu Wanhe raised an eyebrow. “Alright, alright. Any more of that and it’s gonna sound fake.”

Seeing how seriously Xu Wanhe was taking his compliments, Yang Moshou couldn’t help clenching his fists a little. “Actually, that shirt would look even better in a lighter tone. Like cherry blossom pink. Add a bit of neon somewhere, and you’d be so handsome your own mom wouldn’t recognize you.”

Xu Wanhe grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the table, pulled one out, and lit it.

“I actually do have one.”

Yang Moshou instinctively shuddered.

With the cigarette dangling from his mouth, Xu Wanhe leaned back into the sofa.
“Why are you getting goosebumps?”

Yang Moshou shifted uncomfortably.
“It’s nothing. My phone’s leaking current.”

Xu Wanhe didn’t quite catch that.
“Nip slips?”

He leaned forward to reach for the ashtray on the coffee table, flicking the ash into it. Because he’d undone several buttons and was bent at the waist, his firm, toned chest was left casually exposed.

It was just a small glimpse, but Yang Moshou couldn’t look away.

Xu Wanhe didn’t react. He kept smoking, looking a little worn out.

“Come back another day. I need a nap.”

Yang Moshou swallowed hard.
“Even if you’re mostly recovered, you really should stop drinking and smoking. During the time you were bedridden, your system took serious damage…”

Xu Wanhe waved his hand impatiently. “Cut the crap.”

Yang Moshou paused, then said, “Well, since I’m already here, I’ll help you with a massage to sober you up.”

Xu Wanhe stubbed out his cigarette and flopped down on the couch. “Fine. Whatever.”

Yang Moshou rolled up his sleeves and walked over.

Just a couple days ago, the two of them were tangled up in the most intimate way, but Yang Moshou hadn’t even gotten a proper look at his body, hadn’t touched him once. And now here this man was, shirt half open, chest bare, stretched out on the couch all flushed from alcohol, practically begging to be touched.

If he didn’t cop a feel now, what kind of man was he?

With that thought, Yang Moshou roughly yanked open Xu Wanhe’s shirt, and stoppes short when he saw the tank top underneath. He stared for a second, then felt oddly disappointed.

Xu Wanhe opened his eyes slightly.
“Why the hell are you taking my shirt off?”

Yang Moshou flexed all ten fingers until the joints popped. “This kind of sobering massage is all about hitting the right pressure points. If I don’t take your shirt off, I won’t be able to find them properly.”

He added, “You don’t mind me taking off your tank top, right?”

Xu Wanhe let out a cold laugh. “You looking to get fucked?”

Yang Moshou didn’t answer. He started pressing hard with his fingertips on the pressure point between Xu Wanhe’s shoulder blades, but couldn’t get enough force behind it, so he switched to pounding with his fists.

Xu Wanhe dozed off in a haze.

Right before falling asleep, he mumbled a warning, “Don’t wake me up. Or I’ll beat your ass.”

Seeing that he’d fallen asleep and no one else was around, Yang Moshou quietly slipped his hand under the tank top.

The muscles under his fingers were sharply defined, the lines running up from the lower abdomen made it easy to trace the abs and chest.

His palm stopped over Xu Wanhe’s chest. He shook his head and sighed.

They always say people get horny when drunk. But this stunner wasn’t even horny. He just got drunk and fell asleep.

How useless.

Yang Moshou decided to wake him up, but not in a way that seemed obvious. Xu Wanhe was the kind of guy who, if pissed off, could easily ruin him.

So it had to be subtle. And tempting.

Yang Moshou leaned in close to Xu Wanhe’s ear and whispered, “By the way, do you still remember that day? The day I dropped a button right here. Did you see it?”

Xu Wanhe’s eyes snapped open.

They were bloodshot.

Not from lust, but from sheer rage.