BOSF 028: Gentle Comfort

The next day, after sobering up, Ji Qiuyuan acted as if he’d forgotten his drunken words from the night before. He ate and slept as usual.

By the time he woke, it was past nine. Ji Yan had long left for school. Ji Qiuyuan leisurely ate breakfast and sat in the living room, idly working on handicrafts.

Lin Yueqin, irritated by his laziness, had held back last night for Ji Yan’s sake, not wanting to hurt him. But with the house empty, she brought up his drunken rant. “What was that nonsense you said last night? Telling our kid to quit school? How could you say that? You’ve got no prospects yourself, and you want Ji Yan to end up like you?”

Ji Qiuyuan, displeased but aware of his words, didn’t argue with her. Instead, he deflected to the absent Ji Yan. “What’s wrong with saying a few words? Haven’t I fed him and paid for his schooling all these years? Besides, it’s not like I wanted to lose my job. If the factory hadn’t moved, would we be in this mess?”

Lin Yueqin was so furious she was speechless, unwilling to argue further.

Some people are like that—content with the status quo, blaming others instead of solving problems.

Ji Qiuyuan spoke with conviction, but when Ji Yan returned from school, he felt a twinge of guilt. Watching TV, he stole glances at his son, hoping Ji Yan hadn’t heard his loud outburst.

Ji Yan ignored his father, treating him like he was invisible.

He’d considered arguing, but what good would it do? Parents were always right; talking back made him the bad one. He’d learned this countless times growing up. Even aunts and uncles told him his parents worked hard, so he should be obedient and filial. He wanted to be, but only if he had parents he could communicate with, who didn’t say hurtful things.

Sensing Ji Yan’s silence, Ji Qiuyuan realized his son was ignoring him. Annoyed, he scolded him to get attention.

Halfway through dinner, Ji Yan stopped eating. He couldn’t escape the scolding, but he could leave. He told Lin Yueqin he was going to Xiang Yang’s to study.

“Go ahead,” she said. Women were more perceptive, and she was starting to realize arguing in front of Ji Yan wasn’t good. But Ji Qiuyuan’s words were so infuriating she couldn’t help herself.

Ji Qiuyuan, upset, saw Ji Yan’s defiance as disobedience. “It’s all your fault for spoiling him,” he told Lin Yueqin. “Always going to someone else’s house—what does that look like? Hanging out with that kid with issues—what future is there in that?”

The “kid with issues” was Xiang Yang. Ji Yan froze at the door, fists clenched, trembling with rage, tempted to lash out.

Others had said similar things about Xiang Yang, even as he grew up. But Ji Yan’s mindset had changed—he’d never been this angry. Still, he was older now, knowing he couldn’t act impulsively. Fighting over Xiang Yang would only worsen their situation. Swallowing his anger, he pretended not to hear and left without looking back.

He boldly rang the bell at Xiang Yang’s door.

Li Lilian answered, surprised to see Ji Yan so late. Noticing his high school uniform and hearing the ongoing arguments from across the hall, she understood—his parents were fighting again.

Ji Yan, embarrassed to disturb neighbors, said awkwardly, “Auntie, I’m looking for Xiang Yang.”

People’s emotions are complex. Li Lilian envied Lin Yueqin for having a smart, well-behaved son. Her envy peaked when Ji Yan got into a good high school, subtly affecting how she treated him, cooling her demeanor. Compared to Ji Yan, Xiang Yang seemed lacking, intensifying her sense of failure as a mother. Why was her child so unfortunate when others were normal? But since Xiang Jie’s birth, her mindset had softened, and now, knowing Ji Yan’s family troubles, she felt some sympathy. “Come in.”

“Thanks, Auntie.”

At eight in the evening, Xiang Hongxiu wasn’t home, and Xiang Jie was asleep. Li Lilian did chores while the TV played softly, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Ji Yan knocked on Xiang Yang’s door, but there was no response. He opened it, calling, “Xiang Yang…”

Xiang Yang was folding origami, not looking up at the door’s sound but pausing when he heard Ji Yan’s voice. A fleeting spark of surprise and joy lit his eyes, an unmasked happiness.

Seeing Xiang Yang rise from his paper pile, eyes bright as he approached, Ji Yan’s mood lifted instantly. The gloom from last night to now vanished, and he smiled. Closing the door, he stepped forward, hugging Xiang Yang, resting his head on his shoulder.

Xiang Yang, fresh from a shower, smelled of body wash. Ji Yan closed his eyes, reluctant to let go, drawing strength from him.

Xiang Yang said nothing, not pushing him away. Sensing Ji Yan’s low mood, he patted his back.

Amused, Ji Yan kissed his cheek.

After a quiet moment of closeness, Ji Yan let go. Looking at Xiang Yang, his hands wandered, touching his face and chin. Lately, their time together was spent studying, and it had been a while since they’d been this intimate, making it hard to stop. Ji Yan felt like he had skin hunger, craving affectionate touch. Each contact and brush felt wonderful.

Naturally, he kissed Xiang Yang’s lips again.

Xiang Yang parted his lips slightly, returning the kiss gently, their lips brushing in a simple, joyful act.

Kissing didn’t seem to need skill—just practice.

After kissing Xiang Yang that first time, Ji Yan had secretly looked up how to kiss comfortably online. When he started high school, his parents, unusually, bought him a phone—partly as a reward, partly for safety on his long commute. No longer needing to sneak to the library, he could research on his phone.

Following online advice, he taught Xiang Yang how to kiss. Xiang Yang’s responses grew, gentle but not intense.

Ji Yan tried tongue kissing but found it too embarrassing. Light, lingering kisses suited them best, connecting through simple lip contact, content to kiss for a long time.

Lost in the moment, Ji Yan’s suppressed emotions craved release. He locked the door quietly, leading Xiang Yang to the bed.

“Xiang Yang, can you… help me…” Ji Yan, still shy despite their intimacy, couldn’t finish, guiding Xiang Yang’s hand to his pants.

High school uniforms were better than junior high’s—still white shirts and dark pants but with smarter cuts, fitting Ji Yan’s slim frame attractively.

Xiang Yang, rarely seeing Ji Yan in his uniform, stared longer before reaching to undo his pants.

Xiang Yang’s movements were now nearly as quick as anyone’s, and aside from his silence and disregard for others, he seemed normal. But he undressed Ji Yan slowly, carefully, as if afraid to hurt him.

Ji Yan, more embarrassed, blushed harder as Xiang Yang’s hands brushed him, his arousal growing obvious.

The simple act of removing pants felt slow and sensual in Xiang Yang’s hands.

Ji Yan wanted to stop or urge him but couldn’t speak. His eyes followed Xiang Yang’s hands, breath held, gripping his sleeve, unsure why he was so nervous. The sound of his zipper felt like it tugged at his nerves, controlling his emotions and breathing.

His body trembled with tension, breaths quick and loud. As his underwear came off, he couldn’t help but call out, “Xiang Yang…”

His voice quivered, almost like a moan.

Hearing it, Xiang Yang firmly grasped Ji Yan’s eager arousal.