Chapter 57 – Xiao Fan’s Shock.jpg

Bian Ji often dreamt of his fifteenth year.

That was when he first realized he liked boys. After using the limited internet available to him to understand his situation, he promptly came out to his parents.

If it were the current Bian Ji handling a similar issue, he would have been much more tactful. Unfortunately, back then, he still had the fearlessness of youth. After impulsively coming out, he was soon slapped across the face. Due to his refusal to back down, he nearly had half his leg broken by Bian Cheng.

From the day he came out, the already unstable relationship between his parents suddenly became like an unbalanced scale, and his coming out was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Bian Cheng and Tang Pingxia started fighting more frequently, their once-private quarrels turning into public accusations in front of Bian Ji. One blamed the other for raising their child in such a way, while the other cursed about having the audacity to cheat outside yet complain.

In their most heated argument, Tang Pingxia cut herself with a fruit knife, blood spilling onto the white tiles like spilled vermilion. Curses, attacks, blades, and blood; these scenes kept replaying in teenage Bian Ji’s mind.

He dared not mention his orientation again, nor did he dare anger his parents further, but they still ended up divorcing, neither wanting custody of the child. In the end, Bian Ji and the house were left with his father, while Tang Pingxia left the heartbreak behind her, taking nothing.

During Bian Ji’s second year of junior high, Bian Cheng brought home a strange, curly-haired woman, introducing her to Bian Ji: “This is your Aunt Zhou, behave yourself and don’t upset her.”

At the time, Bian Cheng had lost money trading stocks and sold the house. The new family of three squeezed into a tiny forty-square-meter apartment. Bian Ji didn’t have a room and could only sleep on the sofa bed in the living room.

Because the house was so small, the whole family shared a bathroom, which meant that it was common for the door to suddenly be pushed open while Bian Ji was showering.

Aunt Zhou would scream, covering her eyes and running out, asking why Bian Ji hadn’t locked the door. Bian Ji’s explanation that the lock was broken was useless, since Bian Cheng would think that he was being immature, upsetting his new love interest.

This continued until Bian Ji’s third year of junior high. One day, lying on a couch hard as a stone slab, he overheard Aunt Zhou quietly complaining to Bian Cheng about wanting a child.

Bian Cheng was naturally delighted, hugging her and saying, “Then let’s have one.”

“But your son is right outside, how can we?”

Following that, Bian Ji heard the sound of drawers opening, along with muffled breaths and thumps.

Dim light seeped through the door crack. Bian Ji turned over, plugging his ears with his fingers, trying to block out the unbearable sounds.

Not long after that day, Bian Cheng suddenly said there was a change in his work schedule, leaving no time to manage the child. He was going to transfer Bian Ji to another school, sending him to live with his aunt. Bian Ji gladly agreed, fleeing far away.

After the days of living under someone else’s roof began, everything was temporarily bearable except for his cousin who was somewhat undisciplined.

At the time, his cousin was only in third grade, sharing the same bedroom with Bian Ji, bunk beds included. It was the age when boys were as annoying as dogs, particularly fond of phrases like, “You eat my food and live in my house, so what if I take your cassette tape?”

After the fifth time his cousin took something from him, causing him to lose his temper, Bian Ji finally couldn’t take it anymore. He applied to move into the school dormitory, keeping all but large items at school, and only returning to his aunt’s house on weekends. Sadly, once, Bian Ji was still careless, leaving his backpack in his cousin’s room. When he returned from tutoring, he found his diary torn to shreds everywhere.

The next day, his cousin sent many pictures of Bian Ji’s diary entries to the family group chat, filled with Bian Ji’s conflicted thoughts about his own orientation.

That was the hardest Bian Ji had ever hit someone. The price he paid for it was being dragged before his cousin by Bian Cheng to apologize, receiving two slaps in front of all their relatives.

Bian Cheng believed that Bian Ji’s actions had disgraced him, so he took him back to Guangdong and sent him to a notorious, strict, fully enclosed boarding school.

There, Bian Ji experienced a series of absurd events, including surprise dorm inspections in the middle of the night and his lower bunkmate’s trash not being cleaned for half a month during summer. Finally, he endured the gaokao and, when choosing a career, decisively enrolled in a profession that provided a single-person apartment and allowed him to escape all relatives.

Later, he didn’t let anyone step into his apartment, disliked entering other people’s rooms, and wasn’t fond of sleeping with others. This was his peculiar and stubborn habit.

Fifteen-year-old Bian Ji didn’t have a bedroom of his own, twenty-year-old Bian Ji finally lived in his own independent space, and twenty-eight-year-old Bian Ji still had nightmares about his childhood.

And thirty-something Bian Ji, sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, his subconscious fear still controlled his mind.

Bian Ji tossed and turned, sweating, waking the person beside him. Therefore, a low, faint voice of Yan Ankuo began to echo in his ear. It was softly singing that lullaby with a hint of dialect.

The next morning, fully recovered from his hangover, Bian Ji sat up, took in his surroundings, glanced at Yan Ankuo beside him, and retreated slightly with a hint of helplessness.

Yan Ankuo noticed the movement, opening his eyes and asking, “Awake?”

Bian Ji drank quickly yesterday, but he wasn’t completely blacked out, having a rough idea of what he’d done.

Adults must take responsibility for the choices they make, regardless of whether they’re prepared for the consequences.

Bian Ji tried to remain calm, “My… where are my underwear?”

“I washed them for you.” Yan Ankuo yawned, pointing to the paper bag on the bedside table, “I bought two new pairs, choose for yourself.”

“Oh.” Bian Ji pulled out a solid black pair, putting them on facing away from Yan Ankuo, then asked, “What about my clothes?”

Yan Ankuo remained unperturbed but said astonishingly, “They tore last night at the bar, so I threw them away when we got home.”

Bian Ji: “…”

Yan Ankuo showed no remorse, “Wanna wear mine?”

Bian Ji, head down, said disinterestedly, “Okay.”

Yan Ankuo rolled out of bed, finding him a casual T-shirt, wearing loungewear himself, and asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

Yan Ankuo’s clothes looked slightly oversized on Bian Ji, the long legs swinging below the hem evoking imagination.

Bian Ji waved his hand, “I won’t eat, I’ll go home first.”

Yan Ankuo’s expression shifted slightly as he paused mid-buttoning and leaned over, pinning Bian Ji against the wardrobe., “Just slept with me and now you want to run? Mr. Bian, isn’t that a bit too heartless?”

Bian Ji couldn’t defend himself, “I….”

“Eggs, toast, salad, sandwich, pick one.” Yan Ankuo gave several options without hesitation, “If you don’t want any of those, there’s a breakfast shop downstairs.”

It was difficult for Bian Ji to explain where his unease came from, knowing well that lovers eating breakfast together at one of their homes was a perfectly normal thing. His ex-boyfriend once said that he had too many boundaries, resulting in a thick barrier even when they were doing the most intimate things.

— Bian Ji didn’t want Yan Ankuo to leave him for the same reason.

“Just a salad, I’m not hungry.” Bian Ji tried to smile happily, “Don’t fuss too much.”

Yan Ankuo nodded, “You can wait in the dining room, it’ll be ready in five minutes.”

Bian Ji went to the dining room but didn’t sit down, instead opening the floor-to-ceiling window and taking a deep breath facing the river view.

The effects of the alcohol from the previous night suddenly kicked in, churning his stomach. Curses and slaps, shattered vases and blood, seas of fire and alarms, these images flooded his mind, making him feel nauseous.

He suddenly clutched his stomach, leaned against the window for support, and squatted down.

Seeing this from afar, Yan Ankuo rushed over, concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bian Ji stretched out his arm to stop him, “Maybe I drank too much yesterday, I’ll be fine after resting.”

Yan Ankuo touched his forehead, confirming he wasn’t feverish, quickly saying, “I’ll cook some porridge for you and call for some hangover medicine.”

He moved too fast, leaving Bian Ji no time to say “no.”

After finishing the preparations, Yan Ankuo returned to accompany Bian Ji, pressing a hot water bag against his stomach, warming him up while gently kneading in circles, “Why did you suddenly feel unwell? You seemed fine last night, so I didn’t give you any medicine.”

“It’s actually nothing serious, I’ll be better soon.”

“You’re pale, nothing serious?”

Bian Ji tugged at the corner of his mouth, being supported to sit on the sofa.

After a while, Bian Ji heard the doorbell ring and nodded toward the door. “Is the delivery here?” he asked.

“Hold on.” Yan Ankuo had just ordered medicine, naturally assuming it was the delivery, too lazy to check the camera outside, and simply opened the lock.

As the door opened, a girl in a green dress suddenly jumped up, shouting, “Surprise!”

Yan Ankuo froze in place. Even someone as calm as the great lawyer himself spent some effort maintaining his composure, “Xiao Fan, why are you here.”