RTCBM 17

Mu Yuan held He Dongying’s Patek Philippe watch in his hand, playing with it.

“Fuck. Tell me, Dongzi, which sugar daddy gave you such an expensive birthday present?”

He Dongying sat quietly to the side, smoking a cigarette as white curls of smoke drifted from his lips.

Mu Yuan flipped up from the couch like a carp leaping from water and continued asking, “Was it that same rich guy you’re always talking about? The one who keeps trying to turn you gay?”

“Who else could it be?” He Dongying rubbed his temples, looking a little bothered.

Mu Yuan waved the watch in front of him. “How much is this thing worth?”

He Dongying exhaled a puff of smoke and said casually, “Just under eight hundred thousand.”

“Fuck. You better say yes and date the guy already.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He Dongying smacked him across the forehead. “I’m warning you, stop trying to shove me into some gay shit. I’m cursed to ruin my partner’s life.”

“I was just messing with you…” Mu Yuan clutched his head where he was hit, pouting.

Honestly, this childhood buddy of his didn’t have many flaws. If he really had to nitpick, his one major flaw was that he was straight.

He Dongying was one of the rare few in the underworld who had both brains and guts. Sometimes Mu Yuan felt like the heavens played favorites, blessing him with top-tier intelligence, outstanding looks, and a body people would kill for.

Unlike Mu Yuan, who dropped out of high school, He Dongying had been the top scorer in the provincial college entrance exam. He graduated from a prestigious university abroad with dual degrees.

After returning to the country, he didn’t go the route most overseas grads did, chasing after high-paying corporate jobs. Instead, he chose to join the underworld.

There’s a saying that goes, one life, two brothers. No next lifetime, only this one. To He Dongying, Mu Yuan was that one lifelong brother. Mu Yuan was the type who’d charge ahead no matter what, someone full of reckless passion and loyalty. But the world he lived in was unpredictable and brutal. Nobody knew what might happen tomorrow. He needed someone who could keep him grounded and help him think straight when he couldn’t, and He Dongying took that role seriously.

He Dongying stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, picked up the keys from the table, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Mu Yuan asked.

“Out for a drive. Seeing your face pisses me off.”

Mu Yuan flipped him the middle finger. He Dongying gave him one right back. Back and forth.

Mu Yuan grinned. “Bring me back roast goose rice on your way home. From Hong Kee. Extra honey sauce.”

“Get lost.” He Dongying laughed and cursed.

Mu Yuan drove alone to the tattoo studio he often visited. It was quieter than usual today. The shop owner was lounging on the sofa flipping through a fashion magazine.

“Ryan.” Mu Yuan greeted the blond man. “Touch up my tattoo.”

Xiang Yang set down the magazine, pulled out a disposable mask and gloves from the drawer, and put them on.

Mu Yuan was a regular here. Usually he just came in for small touch-ups. But lately he’d been getting new designs and removing them repeatedly. Xiang Yang couldn’t help but be curious.

“What’s been going on with you lately? You’ve been coming in nonstop, getting inked and erased over and over.”

Mu Yuan just smiled and didn’t answer directly.

“As long as you’re making money off me, what’s the problem?”

Since the customer didn’t want to explain, Xiang Yang didn’t pry.

“Alright then.” He smiled and pointed toward the chair inside the room. “Have a seat in there.”

With nothing to do while sitting in the chair, Mu Yuan couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Ryan, that Continental GT parked out front is yours, right?”

“Yeah.” Xiang Yang replied while working carefully. “Just picked it up a few days ago. Taking it for a spin.”

As far as Mu Yuan knew, this was already Ryan’s third supercar this year. Swapping cars like toys. No matter how well-paid a tattoo artist was, this kind of spending wasn’t normal. Especially not with a small shop tucked away in a quiet alley. If they brought in thirty to fifty thousand a month, that’d already be impressive.

Mu Yuan figured someone like Ryan probably came from serious money. The tattoo shop had to be just a hobby. Backed by his family’s deep pockets, he was just out here doing what he loved for fun.

“You rich people really live like gods.” Mu Yuan said with genuine envy.

Xiang Yang couldn’t help but laugh. “You sound like you’re bitter about the rich.”

“I’m not bitter at guys like you who are chill and decent. I just fucking hate those arrogant, entitled assholes. I swear, I actually know one of those scumbags. Uses his money to do whatever the hell he wants, like some damn lunatic. No morals at all. A fucking beast.”

Thinking about that sick bastard and what he did made Mu Yuan clench his fists in rage.

“Calm down. If I mess this up, you’ll have to redo it.” Xiang Yang reminded him, then added, “Why waste energy on a classless idiot like that. You curse him all you want, he’s not hearing it. In the end, you’re the only one who stays upset.”

“Forget it. Enough about him. Let’s talk about you.” Mu Yuan shifted the conversation toward Xiang Yang. “What’s the deal with the guy you told me about last time? You two together yet?”

Xiang Yang gave a helpless smile. “No chance. It was all just wishful thinking on my part.”

“Don’t be too down about it, man.” Mu Yuan patted his shoulder. “You can’t force love. I’ve got this straight guy friend, totally being chased by a gay dude with all kinds of tricks. The guy spoils him rotten. Every gift is some top-tier luxury brand. But no matter what, if someone doesn’t like you, they just don’t. Nothing you can do.”

Xiang Yang listened quietly, not saying a word.

After a pause, Mu Yuan added, “Ryan, falling for straight guys never ends well. You’ve got great qualities. You’re not lacking options. The sooner you move on, the better.”

Xiang Yang let out a bitter laugh.

“If I could let go, I would’ve let go already. Love isn’t just something you can’t force. It’s something you can’t fucking control either. What the hell can I do?”

“Is that man you love really worth it?”

Xiang Yang rubbed his chin and thought for a second. “He’s an outstanding guy. His only flaw is that he’s straight.”

Mu Yuan clicked his tongue and shook his head. Love really was a fucking mess.

After that birthday party, Mu Yuan used an out-of-town work trip as an excuse to make Xiao Xing disappear for a while.

The real reason was simple. He was worried that the next time they met, Xiao Xing would be the one getting pinned down. With Wen Shang’s deeply ingrained dominance complex, there was no way he’d ever accept being the one underneath. If that weren’t the case, he wouldn’t have fallen for a guy like Xiao Xing in the first place.

Playing two roles wasn’t a challenge for Mu Yuan. Faking a relationship? He could get into character just fine. But if he actually had to put his ass on the line, that was way over the line. Mu Yuan even asked He Dongying for advice, and the bastard gave him four words: endure the fucking humiliation.

Endure the fucking humiliation, my ass…

Mu Yuan had always been curious how two dudes handled their needs. With a heart full of scientific curiosity, he went online to look it up. He even downloaded a few gay porn videos to his computer. Some were one-on-one, some threesomes, even a few full-on gangbangs.

Every time he saw those bottoms getting railed, looking all blissed out and moaning like they were about to ascend, Mu Yuan couldn’t wrap his head around it. What the fuck? Could it really feel that good? It had to be fake.

Whether it was fake or not was hard to say, but one thing for sure, after watching for a while, Mu Yuan’s dick started to react.

Scared stiff, he slammed the video window shut and quickly pulled up some regular porn to settle himself down.

Later, Luo Yi invited him to a charity gala in the city. Before the event, he called Mu Yuan to remind him not to bail.

Mu Yuan got the message and immediately headed to a fast-food joint that afternoon to grab a bucket of fried chicken and fill his stomach.

Ah Zhi didn’t get it. “Boss, didn’t you say you’re going to some fancy gala with Mr. Luo tonight? Why the fuck are you eating fried chicken right now?”

“You just don’t get it.” Mu Yuan cradled the chicken bucket in one arm and tore into a drumstick with the other, swaggering down the street without a care in the world. The passing pedestrians gave him strange looks, which he completely ignored.

“At events like that, you gotta wear a suit and act all proper. Even if the food’s piled high, you can’t eat like a beast. No way I’m making a fucking fool of myself in front of my godfather. No matter how rough I am, I’ve still gotta act classy when I’m in public. If I don’t stuff myself now, I’ll be starving later.”

He held out the chicken bucket to Ah Zhi. “Want a piece?”

Ah Zhi laughed, grabbed a wing, and started eating with him.

As they passed a suit shop, someone pushed the door open from the inside. Mu Yuan was too busy looking down at his chicken to watch where he was going and ran smack into the person coming out. Fried chicken went flying, landing in a greasy mess all over the guy.

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” Mu Yuan quickly apologized. “I didn’t do it on purpose. How much was your suit? I’ll pay for it.”

Then he looked up and got a good look at the man’s face.

Just his fucking luck. No matter where he went, he always ran into this Wen bastard.

Mu Yuan immediately took back the polite tone and changed his attitude. He sneered.

“How much? I’ll pay you.”

Wen Shang’s eyes turned cold. He didn’t say a word to this uncultured idiot who thought walking around eating fried chicken in public was normal. Not even half a sentence. With a stiff face, he brushed the crumbs off his clothes and walked off like Mu Yuan was nothing more than thin air.

Ah Zhi pointed at the retreating figure and scoffed. “That Wen guy is such a fucking poser.”

But surprisingly, Mu Yuan didn’t say anything this time.

“Boss, should I go back and get you another bucket of fried chicken?”

“Forget it. I’m not eating anymore.” Mu Yuan threw an arm around Ah Zhi’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get some tong sui.”¹(糖水): A Cantonese term meaning “sugar water,” referring to a variety of traditional sweet dessert soups commonly served warm or chilled in southern China and Hong Kong.

They went to their usual spot, the old familiar Chao Kee dessert shop. It was a weekday afternoon, not exactly peak hours, so there were plenty of empty seats inside.

Mu Yuan picked a table by the wall and waved to the owner. “Boss, two almond soups with coconut milk and a plate of marinated duck wings.”

“Boss.” Ah Zhi tugged gently on Mu Yuan’s sleeve. “Boss, quick. Look over there. That Wen guy’s here too.”

Mu Yuan immediately turned to look in the direction he pointed.

Just ran into the bastard, and now he’s here again. Out of all the damn places, they had to cross paths in a dessert shop. Only one table separated them.

“Boss, maybe we should eat somewhere else?” Ah Zhi raised his voice on purpose, making sure Wen Shang could hear him. “Wouldn’t want certain people ruining your mood.”

“Change what? Change my ass.” Mu Yuan tapped his chopsticks on the table. “Who the fuck is he to affect my mood?”

Wen Shang pretended not to hear anything and just ate on his own. That holier-than-thou attitude made Mu Yuan’s blood boil. The more he looked at him, the more pissed off he got. Then an idea popped into his head. He used Xiao Xing’s phone to call his own.

After a few rings, Mu Yuan picked up, cleared his throat, and answered with a big fake smile. “Xiao Xing.” Then he started talking loud on purpose.

“Xiao Xing, how’s the work trip? Getting used to things?”

“Oh, I see. Just don’t forget to rest. Even if you’re busy, you’ve still gotta take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m out right now. Eating with Ah Zhi at a dessert place.”

“Xiao Xing, let me give you some advice. You’re alone out there, so be careful. Seriously. These days there are fucking creeps everywhere. Not just when you’re away. Even when you’re home, keep your guard up. Don’t go opening the door for just anyone.”

As he said that last part, Mu Yuan shot a glare toward Wen Shang. It sounded like he was giving a heartfelt warning to someone on the other end of the call, but every word was aimed right at the guy sitting across the room.

Openly using the fake phone call to throw shade at Wen Shang made Mu Yuan feel fantastic. He was in such a good mood, he ordered two more bowls of snow fungus sweet soup.

“Boss, when did Xiao Xing go on a work trip? How come I didn’t know about it?” Ah Zhi leaned over and asked, only to be immediately silenced by Mu Yuan’s warning glare. Not knowing what he’d said wrong, Ah Zhi shut up.

Not long after, Xiao Xing’s phone received a message from Wen Shang.

There was no lead-up, no context. Wen Shang just sent: Your brother is seriously annoying.

Mu Yuan grinned and started typing cheerfully.

Xiao Xing: I don’t know what kind of grudge you’ve got against him, but he’s still my brother. You badmouthing him in front of me? Not okay.

Xiao Xing: If you say one more bad thing about him, I’m not talking to you anymore.

Wen Shang: Then I won’t say anything…

Wen Shang: When are you coming back?

Xiao Xing: Not that soon. Why?

Wen Shang: I want to see you.

Mu Yuan stared at the chat, grinning like an idiot. He laughed and laughed, until he suddenly got curious. What kind of face was Wen Shang making while sending those texts?

He lifted his head to peek across the room.

As if some invisible thread always pulled the two of them together, the very second Mu Yuan looked up, Wen Shang did too. Their eyes met squarely across the table. Wen Shang caught the weird smile on Mu Yuan’s face, immediately lowered his head again, cold as ever.

Just one table between them, but it felt like the farthest distance in the world.

*Tong sui (糖水): A Cantonese term meaning “sugar water,” referring to a variety of traditional sweet dessert soups commonly served warm or chilled in southern China and Hong Kong.

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  (糖水): A Cantonese term meaning “sugar water,” referring to a variety of traditional sweet dessert soups commonly served warm or chilled in southern China and Hong Kong.