CJLTNS Chapter 8

Jiang Chong’s grip was strong, and it hurt Yu Xin’s wrist. Yu Xin awkwardly coughed and said, “Let go of me. I can walk on my own.”

Jiang Chong slowed down and gradually released Yu Xin’s wrist. Neither of them spoke again as they walked to Yu Xin’s car.

Jiang Chong got into the passenger seat and instinctively leaned back against it. The pressure on his back made him sit up sharply in pain.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Jiang Chong shook his head. “It’s just a minor injury. No need for the hospital.”

After graduating high school, Jiang Chong went straight to the police academy, where injuries became a regular part of life—during training as a student, and during missions after he joined the force.

Since he was often injured and hated going to the hospital for minor wounds, Yu Xin had become skilled at dressing wounds and applying medication.

As he got out of the car, Yu Xin said, “I’m going to buy a few things. Wait here.”

About seven or eight minutes later, Yu Xin returned, handed a bag of medicine through the car window, and said, “Take off your shirt and treat your wounds yourself. I’ll wait outside.”

With that, he turned his back in an exaggerated show of propriety.

Jiang Chong couldn’t help but laugh at Yu Xin’s behavior. We’re both men, he thought. And it’s not like we haven’t seen or touched each other before—what’s with all this awkward modesty?

Jiang Chong took off his shirt, revealing a well-defined and muscular upper body — slightly bulging pectorals and distinct eight-pack abs.

In the rearview mirror, he could see a palm-sized abrasion on his back, especially around the shoulder blades. For Jiang Chong, injuries like this weren’t a big deal, but if they could get Yu Xin to care about him, he didn’t mind trading a few wounds for something he wanted.

“Yu Xin, I can’t reach. Can you help me?”

Yu Xin heard Jiang Chong’s voice, turned around, and immediately looked away when he saw Jiang Chong’s bare upper body. Jiang Chong held a cotton swab in his hand and waved it slightly at him. “Yu Xin, help me apply the medicine. I can’t see or reach the spot.”

Jiang Chong’s eyes were calm and open, as if there was nothing awkward about the situation. On the contrary, Yu Xin’s discomfort seemed strange.

Trying to appear composed, Yu Xin nodded. “Alright, I’ll help you.”

Yu Xin got into the car. Jiang Chong handed him the cotton swab and the medicine, then turned his back to him. Yu Xin saw that Jiang Chong’s back was covered in bruises, with some dust stuck to the wounds.

He dipped a cotton swab in purified water and gently dabbed it on the wounds, carefully cleaning off the dust and blood.

The dust particles were small, and since Yu Xin was a bit nearsighted, he had to lean in closer, picking them off one by one with the cotton swab.

It was a chilly May night, but Jiang Chong felt a soft warmth against his back — gentle and faint.

He realized it was Yu Xin’s breath. That warmth felt like it had landed directly on his heart, making his whole body feel cozy.

A smile crept onto Jiang Chong’s face. Yu Xin was still just as softhearted. Whenever Jiang Chong was hurt, Yu Xin’s heart would melt.

Once the dust and blood were cleaned, Yu Xin dipped a new cotton swab in rubbing alcohol and applied it to the wounds. The sting made Jiang Chong’s back muscles twitch slightly, even though he wasn’t afraid of pain.

There was no denying that Jiang Chong had a great physique — a wide, solid back with clear muscle definition, especially around the shoulder blades and along either side of his spine.

Unlike Yu Xin, who was quite thin. When they were younger, Yu Xin had often felt inferior around Jiang Chong — he wasn’t as tall, and his body wasn’t as strong. It became just one more reason for Yu Xin to dislike him back then.

Thinking about this, Yu Xin glared at Jiang Chong’s back and began packing up the cotton swabs and alcohol.

“Alright, put your shirt back on.”

As Jiang Chong was getting dressed, Yu Xin suddenly got a phone call. Jiang Chong heard him call the person on the other end “ge” (big brother), which surprised him. He knew all of Yu Xin’s relatives — where did this “brother” come from?

“Bro, I had an emergency tonight and forgot to pick you up. I’ll head back now.”

After hanging up, Yu Xin turned to Jiang Chong and said, “Jiang Chong, you should take a cab home. I’ve got something urgent and need to rush back.”

Seeing how anxious Yu Xin looked, Jiang Chong didn’t say much. As he got out of the car, he reminded him, “Let’s add each other on WeChat. Message me when you get home.”

Yu Xin was in a hurry to get home. He quickly opened his phone, added Jiang Chong on WeChat, then immediately started the car, leaving Jiang Chong standing alone by the roadside.

Yu Xin sped all the way home, rushing back as fast as he could, and saw Zhao Xun standing at the door.

“Brother, I had something to take care of today and had to go to the police station, so I couldn’t pick you up.”

After Yu Xin followed his aunt Xin Rou abroad, he found out that she already had a fiancé. The man was a Chinese-American who taught at a university. Zhao Xun was the son of Yu Xin’s uncle-to-be.

Xin Rou and Zhao Xun’s birth mother had been close friends. After Zhao Xun’s mother passed away when he was ten, Xin Rou helped take care of him. Eventually, she developed feelings for Zhao Xun’s father. But in order to be considerate of Zhao Xun’s feelings, the two waited over ten years before getting together.

Zhao Xun regarded Xin Rou as his own mother and naturally saw Yu Xin as a younger brother.

Zhao Xun was thirty-four years old, five years older than Yu Xin, and worked as a psychologist.

He wore a white shirt, holding a khaki trench coat in his left hand and a large bag in his right.

Zhao Xun was 183 cm tall, slightly taller than Yu Xin. His hair was neatly slicked back, and he wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his nose. He exuded a gentle and composed air.

Yu Xin opened the door and led Zhao Xun inside.

Zhao Xun entered the room, placed the bag on the coffee table, and looked around, taking in the setup of the space.

There were few items in the house. The living room had only a two-seater sofa and a coffee table. There was no TV or dining table, making the space feel rather empty.

Out on the balcony that extended from the living room, there was a cradle and a pot of pothos. The pothos was thriving, its long vines hanging down one side.

In the kitchen, there was only a case of bottled water — no cookware or knives. In the bedroom, aside from the bed, there was a double-door wardrobe with a few pieces of clothing hanging inside.

The house was a bit old; paint was peeling off the walls. The furnishings were very basic — just enough to live in, but far from comfortable.

“Have a seat, brother.”

Yu Xin poured a glass of water and handed it to Zhao Xun, inviting him to sit on the sofa.

“Why’d you pick this kind of place? Let me help you find something better. Duan Zhao has property around here — I’ll ask him.”

Yu Xin sat beside Zhao Xun and shook his head. “It’s fine, don’t trouble Grandpa. I’m not staying long anyway — half a year at most. Once everything’s cleared up, I’ll leave.”

Since Yu Xin had made up his mind, Zhao Xun didn’t say anything more.

He took a sip of water, set the glass down, and looked at Yu Xin — studying him closely, as if examining a test paper.

“Have you been taking your medication properly lately?”

Yu Xin nodded. “I’ve been taking it every day.”

“And are you eating well? Have you had anything spicy?”

Zhao Xun’s concern made Yu Xin feel warm inside. “Don’t worry, bro. I’ve been following your medical advice—eating properly every day, looking at green plants, haven’t smoked at all. Every time I want to, I just light the cigarette without actually smoking it.”

“How about sleep? Still having nightmares?”

Yu Xin wanted to say no, but when he looked up, he saw Zhao Xun’s gaze fixed on him. Zhao Xun’s eyes were calm and without pressure, but there was something about them—something compelling—that made it hard to lie in front of him.

Yu Xin lowered his head, avoiding Zhao Xun’s gaze. After a few seconds, he finally looked up and said, “Still having trouble falling asleep. I get nightmares often.”

It was June 17th, six years ago. Yu Xin had graduated from university a year earlier and was working as a reporter at the Kangzhou City TV station.

His father, Yu Huai, had been a painter in his youth and later became an art dealer.

Yu Xin still remembered how hot that day was—the weather bureau had issued a heat warning. Yu Huai was coming back from buying paintings and decided to pick Yu Xin up from work on the way home.

On their way back, they passed by a bakery that had just launched a new raspberry cake. Yu Xin had tried it before and thought it was delicious, so he wanted to buy a slice for his father to try.

The weather was scorching, the pavement felt like it was burning. Yu Xin got out to buy the cake, leaving Yu Huai and the driver in the car.

When he came out with the cake, he saw a cement mixer truck turning in from the intersection across the street. Bit by bit, the truck moved closer to their car—until its massive weight crushed the smaller vehicle beneath it.

It was a tragic accident. Yu Huai died on the spot, and the driver was severely injured, falling into a vegetative state.

Witnessing his father’s death firsthand became the root of Yu Xin’s endless nightmares. Many sleepless nights followed, and even when he did sleep, he would wake in a panic from the dreams.

Zhao Xun sighed quietly. He knew Yu Xin had always blamed himself for his father’s death. He believed that if he hadn’t gone to buy that cake, they wouldn’t have parked there, and the accident wouldn’t have happened.

But even so, Yu Xin’s condition was much better than it had been six years ago. When Zhao Xun first met him, Yu Xin had been like a walking corpse.

“Yu Xin, it’s okay. Even if you can’t sleep, just lying there with your eyes closed and resting quietly is good enough.”

Yu Xin had always carried heavy emotional burdens. As both his psychologist and his family, Zhao Xun knew that Yu Xin tended to take all the responsibility onto himself. Even when it came to insomnia, he didn’t worry about his health—he worried whether his condition would make his loved ones worry.

“It’s only been two months, and your hair’s already grown this long. Let me give you a trim.”

Zhao Xun pulled scissors and a disposable cutting cape from the bag he brought. Yu Xin grabbed a stool and sat out on the balcony. The soft sound of scissors snipping through hair filled the air.

Under the dim lights of the apartment complex, Jiang Chong sat in the spacious driver’s seat of his Cullinan. Looking up, he saw Yu Xin on the third-floor balcony, chatting and laughing with another man.

Jiang Chong searched his memory, recalling every relative of Yu Xin he had ever met, but was certain he had never seen this man before. He pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of the man.

Then he opened WeChat and looked at the message he’d sent Yu Xin half an hour ago: “Let me know once you get home.”

It had already been twenty minutes since Yu Xin went inside, yet he hadn’t replied.

That made Jiang Chong feel a bit hurt—Yu Xin had clearly forgotten all about him the moment he saw another man.

“Brother, I ran into Jiang Chong.”

Zhao Xun’s scissors paused for a moment, then continued cutting a lock of hair behind the ear. Yu Xin’s hair was very soft and smooth—people say that those with this kind of hair texture are sentimental.

“Oh? So what are you planning to do?”

Yu Xin gently shook his head. “I don’t have any plans. We’ve long since gone our separate ways.”

Zhao Xun’s movements were quick and gentle. Yu Xin felt his head becoming lighter and lighter, and more and more cut hair gathering on the floor.

Zhao Xun stepped in front of Yu Xin to inspect his work carefully. Satisfied, he patted Yu Xin on the head. “All done.”

Yu Xin walked through the living room to the bathroom and looked at his new haircut in the mirror. It was quite a bit shorter than before—his eyebrows and the tips of his ears were now visible, and he looked much more refreshed overall.

When Yu Xin came out of the bathroom, he saw Zhao Xun putting the scissors back into his bag.

“Brother, why don’t you leave the scissors here? I can cut my hair myself from now on.”

Zhao Xun closed the bag and shook his head. “No way. What—are you saying you don’t like how I cut it?”

“It’s not that. I just don’t want to trouble you.”

Zhao Xun stood up and looked at the top of Yu Xin’s head. “Yu Xin, I’m not just your psychologist. I’m your family.”

Yu Xin looked up and nodded. “I know, brother.”

The next morning at 7:00 a.m., Jiang Chong received a message from Yu Xin:
“I got home. Forgot to text you last night.”