Chapter 55 – You Can Punish Me

The man bowed profusely before scurrying off. Yan Ankuo stood by, waiting until he had left before taking a seat next to Bian Ji, asking, “Who was that?”

“Just an asshole,” Bian Ji said with a sour tone.

Yan Ankuo had never heard him curse before, finding it both amusing and alluring. He sat across from him and asked, “Are you in a bad mood today?”

Bian Ji’s voice softened somewhat, half-drunk and lazily propped on the table, he replied, “I guess so.”

Yan Ankuo brushed his hair back from his forehead, asking, “Then why didn’t you wait for me? Drinking alone and getting so angry.”

Just thinking about the man earlier made Bian Ji feel uncomfortable, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, cheeks puffed out in irritation. “He was just too damn annoying.”

Yan Ankuo found this side of him unexpectedly endearing, asking gently, “Who upset you during the day? You seem really upset.”

Bian Ji couldn’t quite put it into words. Alcohol amplified the melancholic parts of him while numbing his ability to express himself. He shook his glass, signaling he wanted a new drink. Afraid mixing drinks would get him drunk faster, Yan Ankuo asked the waiter to refill the same drink for him, ordering something low-proof for himself.

“It’s not like they ‘upset’ me exactly, it’s just… dealing with a bunch of nonsense,” Bian Ji summarized his day.

Yan Ankuo patiently inquired, “What kind of ‘nonsense’ specifically?”

Bian Ji fiddled with his fingers, counting them hazily. “Just stuff at work, passengers, crew, headquarters, middle management, other departments… all sorts of messy relationships.”

Though Yan Ankuo hadn’t worked in a company, he had handled numerous business clients, empathizing with what Bian Ji described. However, he was rather surprised, “In the past, you seemed to handle these things effortlessly. I thought you were good at it.”

“People say that, but…” Bian Ji wasn’t sure if it was praise, smiling uncertainly before immediately falling back into confusion, asking almost like a kindergartener questioning their teacher, “Do I even like it?”

Yan Ankuo didn’t treat him as if he were merely drunk and confused, instead asking seriously, “Do you like it?”

Bian Ji tilted his head, hesitating for a moment, “I don’t know.” After a few seconds, he shook his head, saying, “All I know is that I have to be good at it.”

Yan Ankuo looked at him, softly consoling, “There’s nothing that you absolutely ‘have to’ do.”

“There is,” Bian Ji whispered softly, “When I was a kid, my temper was terrible…”

Yan Ankuo raised an eyebrow, “Can’t picture it.”

Bian Ji spoke earnestly, “Really, when I was young, I cried a lot. I got everything I wanted just by crying, so I became harder to appease. I used to fight with classmates, even the younger kids in primary school feared me. Teachers were annoyed with me, but my parents would always step in to clean up after me.”

Speaking of his less than glorious kindergarten days, Bian Ji actually smiled brightly, causing Yan Ankuo to be momentarily dazed. This summer-like smile lasted only a few seconds, quickly freezing over. Bian Ji’s lips suddenly tightened, looking lost like a child watching someone else’s story, “But then, they suddenly stopped helping me.”

Yan Ankuo felt a shiver run through him, “Why?”

Bian Ji had mentioned his family once during a rare gathering, but quickly steered the conversation elsewhere, not delving deeper.

Even now, he didn’t reveal everything, glossing over the reasons and only mentioning the heartrending outcome, “Anyway, they wouldn’t help me anymore.”

Yan Ankuo didn’t press further, placing his hand on Bian Ji’s shoulder and giving it a comforting rub.

Bian Ji patted the hand on his shoulder, forcing a smile, continuing, “After they divorced, neither wanted to take care of me, so they sent me to live with relatives for schooling. Once, I overheard my aunt and uncle arguing, saying my personality was too poor, disobedient, noisy, and not cute at all. They wanted to send me away.”

Bian Ji counted off his fingers, “At that time, I had already transferred schools twice. I was afraid that if I continued like this, my parents would blame me more. So, I had to be more enthusiastic, more sensible, hoping… maybe they’d be happy and take me back?”

Yan Ankuo, although only catching a glimpse of the bitterness of Bian Ji’s childhood, felt an overwhelming ache for him.

It was often said that sharing scars was more intimate than sex, a level of closeness Yan Ankuo had yearned for with Bian Ji — in every sense of the word. Now, however, he was so filled with heartache that he dared not pry any further.

“You must have been a likable little boy even back then,” Yan Ankuo, knowing the outcome, commented, “If they didn’t take you back, it was their mistake.”

“It’s alright, I’m used to not having them around now,” Bian Ji, accustomed to living under others’ roofs, solitude, and pretending to be well-behaved, swiftly grew from a “bad-tempered” child to a warm and cheerful big brother, “When job hunting, I wanted to be far from home, so I chose to join the airline training program, becoming a flight attendant. I realized that here, as long as you smile warmly enough and provide top-notch service, you receive a lot of love and feedback.”

It was only after working that Bian Ji realized that love and feedback weren’t hard to come by. Perhaps due to the sweetness arriving too late and too suddenly, Bian Ji couldn’t resist engraving warmth and thoughtfulness onto his bones. In each subsequent relationship, his partners marveled at the emotional value he provided. According to his former pilot boyfriend, he lived his life like he was still serving in the cabin, full of warmth yet leaving people feeling something was missing.

Hearing this, Yan Ankuo could no longer suppress his emotions, allowing them to surge forth. Regardless of the setting or the gazes of those around them, he pulled Bian Ji into his arms, rubbing his thumb over his lips, saying, “Bian Ji, you really don’t need to be so enthusiastic with everyone, especially with me. I just hope you’re comfortable and happy.”

The tenderness in Yan Ankuo’s eyes was too intense, seeming overly intimate in the bar. Bian Ji subtly averted his eyes, using humor to mask his earlier vulnerability, “Attorney Yan, did you forget? If it weren’t for me making the first move, we wouldn’t have hooked up!”

Thinking the topic would end there, Yan Ankuo surprisingly didn’t let it go, refuting seriously, “Not true.”

Bian Ji looked at him in surprise.

“Even if you weren’t proactive, didn’t approach me, or smile at me – even if you just stood there, I still would’ve noticed you,” Yan Ankuo, head lowered, warm breath tickling Bian Ji’s ear, sounding like clouds of flowers, “Also, our second meeting wasn’t coincidental.”

Bian Ji’s ears and heart fluttered like they were being tickled. He took half a step back, listening as if hearing a Greek prophet announce some earth-shattering prophecy. He heard Yan Ankuo say, “I got your schedule from Yan Fanxuan and deliberately chose seat 6C to meet you.”

Bian Ji remembered that name, having seen her during new employee training, but he never imagined she would be related to Yan Ankuo, stammering, “Yan… Fanxuan?”

“Mm. She’s my sister.”

As if a master strategist had brazenly revealed his deceitful tactics, Yan Ankuo confessed openly, though his intentions weren’t as pure as his admission suggested.

Bian Ji’s mind went blank for a moment, regaining his senses, he chided half-seriously, half-jokingly, “Attorney Yan, quite the scheme you’ve got.”

Yan Ankuo chuckled lightly, whispering in his ear, “Mutual, mutual.”

Bian Ji jabbed his index knuckle against Yan Ankuo’s chest, looking up, his mouth close to Yan Ankuo’s, mimicking his tone, “So, between us, who’s playing who?”

Yan Ankuo took a small step back from the jab, then quickly moved forward, repositioning his finger, “I was wrong to deceive you.”

Like the last time in the tent with Bian Ji, the one admitting fault placed Bian Ji’s hand on his chin, “So, as punishment — “

He lifted his neck simultaneously, exposing his vulnerable artery, looking into his eyes, saying, “You can choke me back.”