ABOES 108: Premonition

As the saying goes: once is a fluke, twice is a pattern.

Ever since that first time Chi Yunxing called him “Qing Gege,” Duan Zhiyan had tried every trick in the book to get him to say it again.

Whenever Chi Yunxing refused, Duan Zhiyan would either stop altogether or collapse dramatically into a “heartbroken wreck” right there in bed.

Chi Yunxing was equally annoyed and amused.

The nickname was just too embarrassing. Every time he gave in and said it, Duan Zhiyan would instantly be energized—like he’d just been injected with pure adrenaline—and go so overboard that Chi Yunxing wouldn’t even want to get out of bed the next day.

After getting played like that one too many times, Chi Yunxing completely clammed up.

Duan Zhiyan wasn’t one to give up easily. In fact, resistance only made him more persistent.

Worse still, he was ridiculously good at reading the room.

Whenever it seemed like Chi Yunxing was truly about to snap, Duan Zhiyan would immediately switch gears—kisses, soft words, gentle coaxing—and pamper him until he had no more fire left to let out.

At first, Chi Yunxing thought it was just a fleeting interest but he gradually realized that Duan Zhiyan was dead serious about getting him to say those three words.

After one particularly exhausting round, Chi Yunxing, eyes glistening with unshed tears and cheeks burning, finally snapped. “Why are you so obsessed with me calling you that?”

Duan Zhiyan smiled, answering without hesitation, “Yunxing, you really don’t know?”

Of course he didn’t.

He shook his head, shoving at Duan Zhiyan’s chest in protest.

Spring has come. The days were getting warmer. After just a few minutes, a light sheen of sweat appeared on Chi Yunxing’s nose.

Duan Zhiyan got up to grab a towel and gently dabbed at his sweat. Then he leaned down and kissed him again before replying in a hoarse voice, “Calling me ‘Zhiyan Ge’ just doesn’t feel intimate at all.”

“Not intimate?!” Chi Yunxing glared. “So the only way to sound close is by saying those three words?”

Duan Zhiyan nodded. Seeing Chi Yunxing’s scowl, he softened his tone. “Besides… don’t you think it sounds like when you call Chi Xiwen ‘Ge’? Doesn’t it feel the same?”

Chi Yunxing: “?”

“How is that even the same?!”

He sat up in a huff. “I only call my brother ‘Ge’—you’ve got a full two extra syllables! How’s that the same?”

Duan Zhiyan just looked at him with an expression that screamed, See? That’s exactly how boring it sounds.

Chi Yunxing: “……”

There was no reasoning with this man.

He honestly didn’t understand how, in the middle of doing that, they always ended up arguing over something so absurd.

Chi Yunxing got out of bed and decided to handle things himself.

Duan Zhiyan was quicker, pulling him back into his arms. “Where are you going?”

Chi Yunxing glared. “You keep using this excuse to mess with me. I can take care of it myself, okay?” He pushed his hands away. “I don’t need you anymore!”

Duan Zhiyan chuckled and kissed him urgently. His voice was low and rough. “That won’t do. I still want Yunxing.”

“Mm—”

Whatever Chi Yunxing was going to say was completely swallowed up.

…

Still, the nickname had become a wedge between them—not because Chi Yunxing couldn’t let it go, but because Duan Zhiyan just wouldn’t shut up about it.

In the end, Chi Yunxing had to come up with a compromise.

“I…” He took a deep breath before saying, “How about this—since you like it so much, I’ll say it once in the morning when I wake up, and once at night before bed but only when we’re alone.”

There was no way he’d say it all the time. Absolutely not. Twice a day? That he could live with.

Too bad Duan Zhiyan still wasn’t satisfied.

“That’s too little,” he said.

Chi Yunxing glared. “Then what do you want?”

Duan Zhiyan thought for a moment, then said, “Can’t you say it whenever we’re alone?”

“Don’t push your luck!” Chi Yunxing snapped.

Duan Zhiyan frowned. “But I really want to hear you call me that. And it’s not like we’re married yet—when we are, I won’t mind if you call me ‘lao—’”

“You shut your mouth!” Chi Yunxing cut him off, brows arching. “Duan Zhiyan, you’re really… infuriating!”

Duan Zhiyan just laughed and leaned in close. “Did I make Yunxing mad again? Then punish me with a kiss?”

Before Chi Yunxing could react, he’d already kissed him.

By the time it ended, Chi Yunxing was breathless. This is a punishment? Feels more like a reward!

Still, Duan Zhiyan wasn’t done. “Yunxing, can I?”

“I’m reading the script!” Chi Yunxing snapped, shoving a script into his own hands. “Go away!”

Duan Zhiyan took the hint and sat beside him, grabbing his own copy. “Want to run lines together?”

Chi Yunxing thought for a second, then nodded.

It was already their second month on set. Both of them had settled into their roles. The next day, they’d be shooting one of the most critical scenes in the entire film:

Yu Nian discovered the clue left behind by Yu Guang.

There had already been three reported murders sharing the same M.O., and Yu Nian, the forensic examiner on all three cases, was intimately familiar with the killer’s methods. He knew exactly what kind of tools could slice through human bone so cleanly.

So the moment he saw that blood-streaked carving knife, he froze.

The memories came rushing back. His body trembled slightly.

When Yu Nian was sixteen, his family had been in a car crash. His parents died on the spot. His younger brother, Yu Guang, lost both legs.

Yu Nian had been the only survivor.

He thought his brother might hate him. After all, he was the only one who came out of it whole but Yu Guang didn’t. Not only that, he even taught himself how to carve so Yu Nian wouldn’t worry.

He would sit in the study, quietly carving doll after doll.

While Yu Nian was swamped with work and too busy to spend time with him, Yu Guang would pass the time carving.

The dolls grew more and more intricate—some were even life-sized.

They were lined up one by one, each dressed in different outfits. At a glance, they looked almost real.

The police profilers said the killer must have a deeply antisocial personality but how could someone like that be his sweet, sunny younger brother?

Yu Nian stood frozen, unable to snap out of it.

Just as he was about to pick up the knife to examine it more closely, a chillingly familiar voice echoed from behind.

“Gege, what are you doing?”

Yu Guang had appeared at some point, rolling up in his wheelchair, grinning up at him.

In an instant, cold sweat drenched Yu Nian’s back. He quickly retracted his hand, forced a smile, and turned around as if nothing were wrong. “Xiao Guang? What are you doing here?”

Yu Guang, acting like he noticed nothing, smiled brightly. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I came to check on you.”

“I was just looking at your dolls,” Yu Nian said calmly. “You’ve made so many since I was last here.”

“I have,” Yu Guang nodded. “You’ve been so busy lately, gege. You haven’t spent any time with me at all!”

Yu Nian apologized, “Once I finish up this case, I’ll take you to the amusement park, okay?”

Yu Guang pouted, “Can’t we go tomorrow? I want to go tomorrow!”

Yu Nian hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. Tomorrow it is.”

“Wait here a second, I need to make a call,” Yu Nian said.

Yu Guang nodded with a smile.

As soon as Yu Nian’s silhouette disappeared down the hallway, that smile vanished—replaced by a chilling, shadowy expression.

“Guess I’ve been found out…”

His voice, soft with that youthful lilt, slithered like a venomous snake around your neck—cold, hissing, and poised to bite.

“Heehee.” Sitting in his wheelchair, Yu Guang gave a twisted, eerie smile.

…

“Cut!” the director called from behind the monitor. He stood up, rubbing at his goosebumps. “Perfect, perfect! That last smile was insane!”

Other staff and actors chimed in from around the set.

“Seriously, I’m still covered in goosebumps!”

“Teacher Chi’s acting is unreal!”

“That last laugh? I almost dropped dead on the spot!”

“Terrifying… like really terrifying…”

Chi Yunxing was still shaking off the character when he heard the comments. He turned to Duan Zhiyan and asked, “Was it really that scary?”

Duan Zhiyan handed him a bottle of water and shook his head. “Says who? Not scary at all.”

Chi Yunxing didn’t buy that, but the answer still made him smile.

After a short break, Duan Zhiyan had to prepare for his next scene.

Before leaving, he turned back and said, “Oh, right—Yunxing, I have to go film a variety show in a few days.”

Chi Yunxing blinked. “A variety show? That’s so sudden.”

Duan Zhiyan gave a helpless nod. “Remember that film I backed out of last year?”

Chi Yunxing nodded.

He’d mentioned before—it was a favor to Yunxing’s brother, which ended with him being forced to co-star with a rookie actress. Chi Yunxing had even gotten a little jealous over it.

Thinking of that now made him slightly embarrassed. “So this show is also part of that… favor?”

Duan Zhiyan was blunt. “Your brother’s not human.”

Chi Yunxing burst into laughter.

“And you’re still going? Ever heard of saying no?”

Duan Zhiyan sighed. “Your brother might not act human but I still have to.”

Chi Yunxing couldn’t stop laughing. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three days. Two for filming.”

Chi Yunxing nodded. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll be waiting for you here.”

Duan Zhiyan stared at him—his obedient, sweet little boyfriend—and felt the urge to kiss him. Being mindful of the crowd on set, he only reached out to ruffle Chi Yunxing’s hair and whispered, “I’ll bring you back a gift.”

Chi Yunxing nodded, thinking it was no big deal.

If only he’d known what kind of “gift” Duan Zhiyan meant… he would’ve flat-out refused him right then and there.

Unfortunately, Chi Yunxing didn’t have the power of foresight.