TF01 59

Wang Le’s farewell party could only be described as brutal.

Wang Yiqi was sent back by Wang Mengqi, but there were too many people left to handle. With no other option, Ying Ming booked a room at the hotel. He helped the hotel staff carry the others upstairs, paid the bill, took a shower, and then leaned against the hallway wall, continuing to smoke alone.

When he was in a bad mood, he usually avoided alcohol.

Instead, he smoked nonstop.

Wang Le’s situation had happened far too suddenly.

It was as if it had fallen out of the sky without any warning.

In the world Shi Yi had been cursing about earlier, everything seemed to be hidden beneath the surface of the deep sea. On the surface, nothing seemed out of place, but beneath it, the whole ship had already sunk.

Life is unpredictable, and no one can control how things ultimately unfold.

Too many things had happened lately. Ying Ming sighed in frustration, extinguished his half-finished cigarette in the ashtray nearby, and slowly walked back to the room.

Wang Le and Kou Jing had been hauled upstairs by the staff and left in the same room. By the time Ying Ming dragged Shi Yi up, someone had thoughtfully closed their door. With no other choice, he had to share a room with Shi Yi.

It was the middle of the night. There was no way the hotel could free up three separate rooms just for them.

But when he opened the door, he was surprised to find Shi Yi awake.

Whether he was fully sober was another question. He had already sat up, his expression a little dazed, staring ahead without saying a word. Even when Ying Ming opened the door, he didn’t react.

Damn, he’s really out of it…

Ying Ming sighed helplessly and walked over to give Shi Yi a pat on the shoulder. “What’s wrong? Still feeling sick?”

The man sitting on the bed slowly lifted his head and glanced at him. “Don’t you think this is just like a scene from a movie?”

“Huh?”

Ying Ming knew what Shi Yi meant, but given how chaotic things had been, he wasn’t sure which part Shi Yi was referring to.

Shi Yi tilted his head slightly. “A childhood friend we grew up with just fled the country to escape arrest, and after more than twenty years of liking women, I suddenly turned gay.”

Ying Ming had been listening to the first half of the sentence, but the second half caught him completely off guard. He nearly choked as he stared at Shi Yi, unable to tell whether the man was drunk or sober. “Who said you turned gay?”

“Do I really need someone to spell it out for me?” Shi Yi sneered, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not a damn asexual.”

As he spoke, he pointed at himself. “Here, see this? Every time I look at you, I get a reaction.”

The room was dark, and Ying Ming hadn’t closed the door when he came in. The light from the hallway slanted in, casting shadows on half of his face and making his expression look gloomy. After hearing Shi Yi’s words, a fire seemed to ignite in his eyes. He glared at the man in front of him, struggling to keep his temper, and finally took a step back. “You’re drunk out of your mind. Stop talking nonsense.”

Shi Yi ignored him, let out a low snort, and collapsed back onto the bed.

The two of them seemed to be playing a game of chess that was already locked in a dead end. No moves left, no escape. Yet they kept stubbornly clashing, unwilling to admit it.

Ying Ming stared at Shi Yi lying there, feeling increasingly irritable. The more agitated he became, the more unwilling he was to move. In his mind, every problem had a solution. And when there wasn’t one, you just had to accept things as they were. But right now, with Shi Yi, they couldn’t solve it, and they couldn’t accept it either.

So, they just hung in limbo.

Neither of them knew who would make the next move, or if anyone even would.

Though, deep down, they both knew that no matter what choice they made, the result would probably be the same…

When Shi Yi woke up the next day, Ying Ming was still there.

Kou Jing had been woken by a phone call early in the morning, left before he was fully awake, and hadn’t come back. Wang Le was still in the next room. Ying Ming had planned to wait until Shi Yi woke up so they could head home together.

Shi Yi was awake, but his head was still pounding. He called his assistant to bring over a suit from the office, then arranged for someone to send Wang Le home first. Even though it was the weekend, Shi Yi still had a meeting in the afternoon. Luckily, it wasn’t scheduled until later, so he wouldn’t be running late.

“How are you? Need a ride home?”

Shi Yi had taken a quick shower and walked out of the bathroom, still drying his hair, and asked Ying Ming about his plans.

The man leaning against the bed and smoking waved his hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll wander around for a bit.”

“Not going home?”

“Not right now. Don’t feel like it.”

Shi Yi got dressed and put on his suit jacket. “I’m still not completely sober anyway, so let’s go for a walk.”

His hair was still damp, and the water dripping down his neck into his shirt was uncomfortable. He grabbed a towel, gave his hair a couple of half-hearted rubs, and tossed it aside. “Let’s go. This room reeks of smoke and alcohol. I can’t stand it.”

He made the decision without waiting for Ying Ming’s answer. Their relationship had always been like this, based on unspoken understanding. One person spoke, and the other rarely objected.

Shi Yi walked ahead, instructing his assistant to prepare the documents he needed for the afternoon meeting, then waited in the hotel lobby for Ying Ming.

Ying Ming followed shortly after.

It was still early for a weekend morning, and the streets were nearly empty, leaving the atmosphere a bit quiet. Shi Yi and Ying Ming walked side by side, with Ying Ming instinctively staying on Shi Yi’s right. He reached for his cigarette pack, only to realize he’d already smoked the last one.

Shi Yi noticed the movement and frowned. “You’re still smoking like crazy?”

He’d mentioned it before but had noticed Ying Ming’s smoking had gotten worse lately.

Ying Ming clicked his tongue in annoyance and ruffled his hair. “Force of habit.”

There would probably be a convenience store somewhere along the way. Ying Ming figured he could buy another pack when they passed one. For now, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the craving.

The streets weren’t completely empty. Every now and then, they passed a few people, most of them students heading out early. Some schoolgirls glanced at them more than once, whispering to each other as they walked past, unable to hide their admiration.

When Shi Yi heard someone behind him comment on how handsome Ying Ming was, he instinctively turned to glance at him. From the side, Ying Ming’s face remained indifferent, his expression cold. There was a slight furrow between his brows, and his eyes held a trace of suppressed emotion, but beyond that, there was a clarity Shi Yi knew all too well.

Most people who saw them together would probably assume they were just friends.

And, in a way, they were.

The only difference was that, compared to ordinary friends, they had kissed a few more times than usual. Just twice, technically, but even that was enough to make it worth bragging about.

The thought made Shi Yi chuckle.

There was a trace of mockery in his laughter, as well as a hint of helplessness.

He and Ying Ming kept fooling themselves, pretending to stay calm and carry on this so-called friendship, even after crossing the line. Just last night, he had casually mentioned how being around Ying Ming made him react. And here they were now, strolling side by side down the street, as if nothing had happened. It was probably for the best that no one could hear their thoughts, or they’d be the punchline to a lot of jokes.

Shi Yi knew perfectly well that putting some distance between himself and Ying Ming would be the smarter choice.

After all, what they were caught up in right now was closer to impulse and lust, or, more accurately, a thrill that neither of them could fully suppress. If they put some space between them, maybe it would simmer down.

But knowing what to do and actually doing it were two very different things.

Like earlier at the hotel, he’d invited Ying Ming out before his brain had a chance to catch up. And after he’d said it, the regret only lasted for a brief moment before he realized that deep down, his emotions didn’t care about that regret.

So this was what it felt like when emotion overpowered reason.

Fighting a battle against himself, only to lose to his own so-called self-control.

They walked until they reached a small convenience store. Ying Ming went inside to buy cigarettes, and Shi Yi followed, glancing around the shop. His eyes landed on a lottery machine, and on a whim, he tugged on Ying Ming’s sleeve. “Hey, have you ever bought a lottery ticket?”

Ying Ming paid for his cigarettes, lit one effortlessly, and took a couple of drags before shaking his head. “Nope.”

He wasn’t the type to gamble, nor did he believe in sudden windfalls.

In his view, things that came too easily often weren’t worth much, and the hidden troubles that followed were just things most people failed to notice.

But Shi Yi seemed interested. He pulled out some cash and told the shopkeeper, “I’ll buy a number.” The shopkeeper nodded, opened the computer, and as he began entering the details, he asked Shi Yi, “Pick a four-digit number. Just the last four digits.”

The initial numbers were fixed because it was a small lottery.

Shi Yi looked at Ying Ming. “You pick a number.”

Ying Ming was taken aback. “Aren’t you the one buying it?” Why was he being asked to choose?

Shi Yi just smiled. “I’ve never had any luck with gambling. Just say any number. It’s just for fun.”

Hearing this, the shopkeeper instinctively shifted his gaze to Ying Ming. After a brief frown, Ying Ming finally said four numbers. “2401.”

The shopkeeper entered the numbers and printed the ticket.

Shi Yi hesitated for a moment. “That sounds familiar…”

He felt like he had heard it somewhere recently.

Ying Ming raised an eyebrow and explained, “It’s the same as my computer password.”

That jogged Shi Yi’s memory. He nodded, then asked the question he had been curious about but hadn’t brought up before. “Those numbers don’t seem to be related to each other. Why did you use them as a password?”

Most personal passwords have some special meaning. They’re either easy to remember or hold some significance. But these numbers seemed random.

Ying Ming took the lottery ticket from the shopkeeper, smiled when he heard Shi Yi’s question, borrowed a pencil, and drew two dots between the 4 and the 0.

“Actually, 2401 is a time.”

Shi Yi leaned closer to take a look. “24:01?”

What kind of time was that?

Ying Ming took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze dropping back to the numbers. “After 24:00, it’s a new day.”

The cycle between one day and the next is a relentless, unchanging repetition. It is an objective reality, as rigid as clockwork. You can only relive it again and again, reflecting on it over and over.

During those days when he would lie idly on his bed, staring blankly at the digital clock by his bedside, he had grown increasingly disgusted by that mechanical repetition.

Until one day, when he opened his eyes and resolved to break free from that downward spiral.

To most people, these numbers would mean nothing. But to him, they held a significance that was too personal to explain.

Shi Yi stared at the four numbers, mulling over Ying Ming’s words, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to laugh.

He suddenly remembered the tune Ying Ming had been humming during their little performance earlier.

That song, which Shi Yi had jokingly called Tomorrow, overlapped subtly with 2401, forming an image of Ying Ming in his mind.

Was it that, deep down, they were fundamentally the same kind of person?

Or was this understanding something like resonance, an echo vibrating from the depths of their beings?

They always seemed to bump into each other, unintentionally yet inevitably.