EIP 34

It felt as though the clouds in the sky had suddenly descended, enveloping everything in a heavy gloom. There was no light in Yong Jin’s eyes, and he mirrored that darkness. Perhaps it was a change in mood, or maybe the sky had genuinely darkened. Zhou Jun expected Yong Jin to say or do something as a form of punishment. It was a natural instinct to react when hurt, and he could see that Yong Jin was indeed wounded. Yet he didn’t believe he had said anything wrong. Yong Jin shouldn’t be such a naive person.

In this era that bridges the ancient and modern, with a blend of Eastern and Western cultures, many things have changed, while others remain the same. For instance, it used to be common for men to have three wives and four concubines. However, now, one can only marry one person and cannot marry another. There can only be one official wife, and having mistresses outside is quite common. Who doesn’t have several romantic interests at the same time? Does Yong Jin see him as a woman, wanting him to belong only to him? How is that possible? Isn’t that an insult to him?

Yong Jin released his grip and stepped back. Zhou Jun pretended not to notice and reached out, attempting to pull him back into an embrace, trying to comfort him as he would a woman. Women always seemed to ask, “Am I your one true love, the only one for you forever?” At that moment, all it would have taken was a simple “yes.” Maybe that was what Yong Jin wanted to hear, and Zhou Jun had never been able to bear seeing the people he cared about upset.

Just seeing Yong Jin a little down was enough to twist Zhou Jun’s heart. He wrapped his arms around Yong Jin’s waist, murmuring, “I was wrong. I like you.” Yong Jin remained still. “It was my mistake.” Zhou Jun didn’t quite grasp what his words meant. He simply let his right hand glide down to Yong Jin’s back, giving it a gentle pat.

Yong Jin asked him softly, “Do you remember the first time we met?” Zhou Jun hesitated and replied, “Are you talking about the first time we slept together?” Yong Jin fell silent for a moment. “Do you remember what we talked about in my bedroom?” Zhou Jun couldn’t recall. All he could remember was the incident on the bed. The fever he had that time had wiped away all memories, leaving only fragmented recollections that haunted him in the dead of night.

Yong Jin knew he didn’t remember. He sighed quietly, “Forget it if you don’t remember.” Those words struck Zhou Jun’s heart unexpectedly, and he felt a surge of irritation. “That was me back then, and I’m still me now. What’s different?” Yong Jin pushed him away and rolled up his sleeve. There was a watch on his wrist; he glanced at the time and said to Zhou Jun, “I have to go. I have other things to attend to.”

Yong Jin was being unreasonable; that was Zhou Jun’s first thought. His second was that he couldn’t just let him leave like that. In their relationship, he felt utterly passive. It often felt uncomfortable to watch Yong Jin walk away, but what could he do to make him stay? If he called out for him to stop, would he actually listen?

He had told Yong Jin more than once not to get too close, but Yong Jin had never heeded those warnings. Would asking him to stay make any difference? With a mix of hesitation and reckless courage, he shouted, “Stop!” He stared at Yong Jin’s retreating figure, thinking somewhat naively that if this person truly left, he wouldn’t indulge that bad temper again next time.

He wouldn’t even open the window for him if he secretly came to the Zhou residence, and he’d shout for Uncle Xu’s dog to chase him away. But that was just a moment of bravado. He figured Yong Jin wouldn’t listen to him. That’s why he rarely made demands, knowing Yong Jin might not comply. Yet, to his surprise, Yong Jin stopped. Though he didn’t turn around, he stood there, waiting.

Zhou Jun was taken aback, and then he made an even bolder request: “What’s the rush? Just wait for me in the car for a bit. After I send Miss Yang off, I’ll come find you.”

Yong Jin turned his head slightly. “What do you want to see me for?” Zhou Jun hadn’t thought out what he wanted from Yong Jin. However, Yong Jin’s response sparked his courage, and he replied, “Take me back, but not to the Zhou family’s front gate.”

He thought to himself that perhaps Yong Jin would just turn away now. His request sounded so disdainful to him that he knew he would be upset if someone treated him that way. After a while, he returned to the café and waited for some time until the Yang family’s car finally arrived, fashionably late. After sending the lady off, Zhou Jun strolled leisurely toward the spot where he and Yong Jin had agreed to meet, holding onto the thought that he might or might not catch a glimpse of that black car.

At the street by the cigarette billboard, he arrived and saw the side profile of that person, his jaw clenched, with an expression that was cold yet tinged with a hint of anger.

Zhou Jun slowly smiled.

This was his first victory, and the outcome was delightful. He had always been unclear about where Yong Jin’s boundaries lay, and now he felt even less certain, realizing that the range might be much wider than he had imagined. The assertiveness Yong Jin had initially displayed, along with the repeated pressure he exerted, led Zhou Jun to believe that Yong Jin’s explosive temper was merely a manifestation of a bored man’s possessiveness. But now, it seemed that it might be more than that.

Inside the car, Yong Jin watched as the man approached him, a beaming smile on his face, his expression and eyes filled with unmistakable pride. Yong Jin knew exactly what Zhou Jun was so pleased about, and he didn’t want Zhou Jun to be this happy. If he had a choice, he would prefer to see this person cried.

It all started with a mere affection for this person. Perhaps some feelings shouldn’t be allowed to accumulate.

For instance, after that brief springtime encounter a year ago, he should have gone straight to find Zhou Jun. Instead, he had lingered in thought for so long that, without realizing it, his emotions had grown larger and larger, ultimately affecting everything.

Yong Jin was a restrained person. He had always believed he could manage his emotions before they spiraled out of control. He enjoyed red wine but wouldn’t drink it if there were no conditions to do so. He liked his long whip, but if it broke, he would simply do without it. If he found someone pleasant but unsuitable, he would end the relationship without hesitation.

He thought Zhou Jun would be the same. His fondness for Zhou Jun was not strong enough to sway his decisions. Yet, after experiencing such humiliation, why hadn’t he walked away? Yong Jin shifted his gaze back to Zhou Jun, noticing that the sun had unexpectedly appeared, casting soft, golden light onto Zhou Jun, enveloping him like a coat of gold.

The weather had gotten colder, and Zhou Jun hurried over, his breath forming white mist near his cheeks, unable to hide his shining eyes. He watched as he approached, ready to open the door. Yong Jin suddenly raised his hand to lower the car window and reached out. His gloves were in Zhou Jun’s pocket, so his fingers were bare, clutching the bills he had just taken out of his clothing.

Zhou Jun slowed his pace, looking at the bills with a childlike confusion before slowly shifting his gaze to Yong Jin’s face. In that moment, Yong Jin felt a bit dazed. He wanted to throw caution to the wind, get out of the car, and pull this annoying young master tightly into his arms. He wanted to drag him into the car and lock him in his mansion, never to see the outside world again.

This gloomy thought lingered in his mind, reminding him of the ash hidden in the handkerchief and Zhou Jun’s skillful gaze as he identified each piece of his gear. Zhou Jun was not someone he could control. His feelings for him were easily overwhelmed.

Zhou Jun had no idea what Yong Jin was thinking, or rather, he didn’t understand why Yong Jin was giving him money. He stopped in his tracks, hoping the money wasn’t what he feared it to be. But it was useless, he couldn’t stop Yong Jin from speaking. The man said calmly, “I can’t take you back. Use the money to call a cab.”

Zhou Jun glared coldly at Yong Jin. He had lost count of how many times he had felt foolishly hopeful, and he was starting to accept this feeling of humiliation. Just moments ago, his head was clouded by Yong Jin’s words and actions. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, secretly enjoying the irony of mocking Yong Jin’s naivety while grappling with his own emotions.

He felt like Yong Jin had revealed his hand, giving him both the illusion of control and the tools to play the game. Just when he thought he had won, Yong Jin mercilessly pulled the chips back, leaving him embarrassed and defeated. It was clearly unfair, but he couldn’t stop it. He could only watch as Yong Jin retracted his hand and said, “It’s my mistake. You should have money, Jun Jun. So this is how it will be. I’m leaving now.” After saying this, Yong Jin gave him a polite smile, closed the car window, and instructed the driver to go, leaving him standing there.