RTCBM 24

Wen Shang’s thoughts drifted back to the present. He casually asked, “Are the people on this photo wall still part of the troupe?”

Zhuo Fei shook his head. “The people here are either current or former members of Hongqing, but not all of them stayed. Some left to start their own troupes after completing their training. Others left for personal reasons.”

Wen Shang knew someone like Mu Yuan wouldn’t have gone off to start his own troupe. He followed up, “Those who left, were they expelled from the troupe?”

“No, not at all.” Zhuo Fei chuckled. “No one’s ever been kicked out of Hongqing. Anyone who left did so of their own choice.”

Wen Shang pointed at the photos. “Could you tell me more about some of the members?”

Zhuo Fei launched into an enthusiastic explanation, going through each person’s role in the troupe, from musicians to actors and the kinds of roles they played. When he got to Mu Yuan, his tone shifted, visibly more animated.

“That one is my senior, Mu Yuan. He started learning Cantonese opera at the age of five and was officially accepted into the troupe early. Aside from those seniors who branched out on their own, he’s the most senior among us. He was incredibly talented. Master always said he had a rare gift. And he wasn’t just skilled. He was kind too. Whenever we were bullied outside while playing, it was always senior who stood up for us. He looked after everyone.”

“Is he still performing?” Wen Shang asked.

“No.” Zhuo Fei gave a regretful shrug. “He left the troupe when he was sixteen. Something happened in his personal life.”

Sixteen. That reminded Wen Shang of what Luo Yi once told him. Mu Yuan had started roaming the streets around that same age. So what happened during that time?

On the way back, Wen Shang couldn’t stop thinking. Why had he locked Mu Yuan in that room?

He had been furious when he found out the truth, furious enough to want to tie the bastard up and beat him senseless. But that night when he got home and saw Mu Yuan sitting at the dining table grinning like nothing had happened, he hesitated. Punching him felt wrong. Scolding him felt pointless. He wanted to throttle the guy but couldn’t even figure out how.

So, in the end, he locked him up.

But someone like Mu Yuan, with a temper so much like his own, would never stay quiet under pressure. The moment he got home, he’d have another storm to deal with.

—

The car rolled into the community. From a distance, Wen Shang looked toward the second floor of his house and noticed Mu Yuan standing by the window. He frowned. What the hell is he doing now?

For a moment, Wen Shang wondered if the guy was about to jump. And in the very next second, Mu Yuan actually leapt straight out the window.

Wen Shang cursed under his breath, slammed the gas pedal, and sped to the front gate. He didn’t even bother turning off the engine before rushing out of the car and running inside.

Mu Yuan was sitting on the lawn, clutching his right foot with a look of pain on his face. When he landed after jumping from the second floor, his foot gave out, and his ankle swelled up like a steamed rice dumpling.

Wen Shang stood over him, staring down coldly. “Thought you were tough. Go on, keep running.”

Mu Yuan let out a muffled grunt. Even through the pain, he still wanted to save face. “I don’t care if I have to hop on one leg. I’m getting out of here.”

He pushed himself up and started hopping forward defiantly. Wen Shang’s anger flared. He stormed over and grabbed him, lifting him over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

“Fuck your mother. Put me down. Do you hear me? Put me the fuck down.”

Mu Yuan started pounding his fists into Wen Shang’s back. A deep thud echoed with every punch. Wen Shang winced from the hits, but he never loosened his grip. He carried him straight into the house and dropped him onto the sofa.

“Sit your ass down,” Wen Shang barked, and immediately called the family doctor.

Fortunately for Mu Yuan, his bones were thick and stubborn. The doctor examined him and confirmed there was nothing serious, just a sprain. A little medicated oil and a few days of rest would take care of the swelling.

New injuries piling on top of old ones, and yet the guy sat there with that damn carefree, smug expression like he didn’t give a shit. Wen Shang found his temper flaring all over again.

“Serves you right.”

Mu Yuan clicked his tongue and didn’t bother replying.

Being ignored like that only pissed Wen Shang off more. “Keep messing around and you’ll dig your own grave sooner or later.”

“What does it matter to you if I do?”

Wen Shang’s tone turned sharp. “So pretending to be Xiao Xing and playing me doesn’t matter either?”

“You were the one desperate enough to fuck anyone and even filmed it to blackmail me. Now you want to act like the victim?” Mu Yuan fired back.

Truth be told, neither of them was completely innocent. They each had their sins, and when the two of them clashed, it was never going to be pretty.

Wen Shang said nothing. Mu Yuan went quiet too.

The room sank into silence.

Only the two of them were in the living room. The silence stretched between them, tense and ready to snap. Then came the rumble of a stomach, breaking the deadlock. The low and insistent sound came from Mu Yuan. A few seconds later, it rumbled again.

The wall clock had just struck six. Mu Yuan hadn’t eaten a thing since morning, and his stomach had been empty all day. He had originally planned to conserve his energy and avoid a fight, but the bastard in front of him just had to keep running his mouth. At this point, not arguing wasn’t even an option.

“Hey. I’m starving. Where’s dinner?” He made no effort to act like a guest. Even when he needed something, he still acted like he owned the place.

“I didn’t ask the housekeeper to cook anything today.”

Mu Yuan shot up like he’d been shocked. “What the fuck? Then what am I supposed to eat? Are you even human? You lock me up and now you’re starving me too? What the fuck is this? You getting off on torture or something?!”

He rolled up both sleeves, face dark, jaw tight, ready to throw hands. He was done playing nice.

Wen Shang sat on the sofa as calm as ever, not even twitching. He glanced at his phone now and then like he was waiting for something.

Then the doorbell rang.

Wen Shang stood up and went to answer it. When he came back, two delivery guys in uniform followed behind him, each holding massive bags of food. Wen Shang pointed at the dining table.

“Put it over there.”

As the scent of hot food drifted through the air, Mu Yuan hopped over as fast as he could. The moment his eyes landed on the table piled with fried chicken boxes and a steaming, spicy hotpot bubbling away, he stopped dead in his tracks. His gaze locked on the spread, stuck there like it had been glued in place.

“What are you staring at?” Wen Shang shot him a look. “Come eat.”

That sudden kindness was suspicious as hell.

Mu Yuan narrowed his eyes and studied him. “What’s your game? If you’re thinking of trading this meal for my ass, forget it.”

He even mimicked He Dongying’s tone, “The fortune teller said I bring bad luck to partners. I’m not cut out to fuck men.”

“Eat or don’t. I don’t care.” Wen Shang made a show of reaching to remove the food.

Mu Yuan lunged forward, flinging out his arms to guard the table.

“Who said I’m not eating? This is mine. You keep your hands off.”

He clung to the feast like a dumb, overgrown mutt, and for a second, Wen Shang almost laughed. Almost. But he kept his usual stone-cold face.

Wen Shang barely touched the food. Mu Yuan did all the eating. He sat to Mu Yuan’s left, eyes quietly fixed on the faint scar left by an old piercing in his left earlobe.

“When did you get that ear piercing?” he asked casually.

Mu Yuan stuffed a chunk of lamb into his mouth, chewing like it was the best thing he’d tasted in a year. After a while, he finally swallowed and replied, “Ages ago. Maybe in middle school.”

Wen Shang stayed curious. “Why don’t you wear an earring anymore?”

“Too much hassle to wear it every day.” Mu Yuan was the kind of guy who did things on a whim. Back in school, piercing ears was a trend. He followed along, got one himself, and then forgot about it as the novelty wore off. He hadn’t thought about the piercing again until Wen Shang brought it up.

Not sure if it had closed up over time, Mu Yuan broke the tip off a toothpick and poked at the hole. After a few tries, it slid in easily. He didn’t bother pulling it out and left it in like some makeshift stud.

“You know we’re going to the hospital tomorrow to get your stitches removed, right?”

“Yeah,” Mu Yuan replied, wiping sweat from his forehead with a napkin and continuing to eat.

Something seemed to cross his mind. He paused, set his chopsticks down, and looked up at Wen Shang. “I messed up before. But you weren’t in the right either. Let’s call it even. Starting tomorrow, we go our separate ways. No more bullshit between us.”

Wen Shang met his eyes across the table. Mu Yuan waited, thinking he was going to say something. But nothing came. No reaction. Just silence. He figured that meant Wen Shang agreed.

—

The stitches came out in minutes. The procedure was smooth, fast. As usual, the doctor gave a list of post-care instructions. Mu Yuan barely listened. He kept glancing over at the hallway where Wen Shang stood, back turned, talking on the phone.

“Your recovery’s been great. One of the fastest I’ve seen in a while. Just make sure to keep a good routine, eat well, and exercise,” the doctor said.

Mu Yuan gave him a lazy grin, nodded along, then took the first chance he got to slip away while Wen Shang was still on the phone.

When Wen Shang returned to the room, there was only a janitor in uniform, wiping down the counters.

“Excuse me, where did the guy who was just here for his stitches go?”

She glanced up. “You came in with that young man, right? He left a few minutes ago.”

Honestly, it wasn’t surprising. Knowing Mu Yuan, he was never going to stick around for a proper goodbye and Wen Shang hadn’t expected one. Still, seeing that empty chair left a strange weight in his chest. He was irritated. Restless. Hollow in a way he couldn’t explain.

First thing Mu Yuan did after returning to Sixth House was open up the food delivery app and order every single thing he’d been craving without holding back.

He Dongying caught the stupid grin on his face and assumed he was watching porn. He leaned over for a look, then cursed.

“Fuck off. Are you really this happy over food?”

“You seriously ordered twenty or thirty dishes for yourself? How the hell are you gonna finish all that?”

“It’s not your money, so why the hell do you care?” Mu Yuan waved him off like he was shooing a fly. “Get lost already.”

“Look at you, like you’ve never seen food before. What, that guy Wen never fed you a proper meal while you were staying at his place?”

That hit a nerve. Mu Yuan went off like a machine gun, ranting about every single one of Wen Shang’s sins. Then he pointed at his still swollen ankle. “See this? All thanks to that bastard.”

“Wait a minute. You’re telling me your cover got blown?” He Dongying zeroed in on the important part. Knowing Wen Shang’s personality, there was no way he just let Mu Yuan off the hook after being played like that. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Hey, Mu Yu, you’d better be careful,” He Dongying warned.

Mu Yuan waved him off again, completely unconcerned. “Whatever. I’m back in one piece, aren’t I? Not like I’ll ever see him again.”