RTCBM 21

Xiang Yang had just seen off a client when Wen Shang walked through the door.

“Well damn, you’re free today?” Xiang Yang grinned. “Missed me or what? Came to hang out?”

Wen Shang glanced around the studio. “Hasn’t changed much in all these years.”

“I’m a sentimental guy,” Xiang Yang replied.

Wen Shang nodded. “Makes sense. No wonder every tattoo that comes out of this place still looks old school.” Then he added, “You got anything else booked today?”

Xiang Yang checked the schedule on the table. “Nothing for now. You wanna do it now?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then. Strip and lie face down on the table over there.” Xiang Yang turned around to start prepping his tools.

The tiger on Wen Shang’s back had been a teenage impulse. He was seventeen, hot-headed and reckless, never thought twice about consequences. Took a photo to some random tattoo shop and told the guy to copy it. The artist’s skills were average at best. The final result wasn’t terrible, but definitely not good either.

When Xiang Yang found out about the tattoo, he immediately demanded to see it. The moment he laid eyes on that ink, something clicked, and a new door opened. From that day forward, Xiang Yang became obsessed with tattooing. He couldn’t stop.

After graduating from university, he ditched the nice career path his family had lined up for him and went straight into a tattoo apprenticeship. Years later, his skills had grown by leaps. He eventually opened his own studio. Business wasn’t booming, but it kept him afloat.

Wen Shang had been Xiang Yang’s very first client after he officially went pro. He helped repair and redesign the tiger on Wen Shang’s back, making it sharper, more refined. The process had been on and off, interrupted for years by all kinds of shit. It wasn’t until today that Wen Shang came back for the final touch-up.

Wearing a mask, Xiang Yang held the tattoo machine steady, carefully tracing lines and shading color into Wen Shang’s spine.

“How you been lately?” he asked out of nowhere.

“Same as always.”

“Lin Haoran and the others said you’ve been hard to reach lately. You’re either working or holed up at home. Nobody can get you out. You hiding a lover or something?”

“Stop talking shit.” Wen Shang chuckled.

“I’m serious. I didn’t make it to your birthday thing last time, but the others told me you brought someone new. Said he was good-looking too. Come on, are you seeing someone?”

“That’s just a friend I met recently,” Wen Shang replied.

“Really just a friend?” Xiang Yang clearly didn’t buy it. He asked, testing the waters, “So there’s zero chance it’s gonna turn into something more?”

Wen Shang just smiled without answering.

The touch-up work didn’t take long. Forty minutes later, it was done. Wen Shang sat up and got dressed again. Xiang Yang had already gone over the aftercare stuff with him before, so there was no need to repeat it.

Xiang Yang glanced at the clock on the wall. It was twelve-thirty.

“You wanna grab lunch together?”

Wen Shang shook his head. “Can’t. I have to drop something off to my uncle from my parents later.”

As he spoke, his eyes wandered to the display wall in the studio. It was covered with photos of clients’ tattoos, all custom-designed by Xiang Yang himself. Every single piece was unique.

Then Wen Shang spotted something.

A tattoo sleeve. Twin wolves. The same exact pattern he’d seen on Mu Yuan’s arm before. It was distinct. No way he could be mistaken.

He pointed to the photo.

“When did you do this one?”

Xiang Yang thought for a moment. “About four or five years ago. I designed it for a client. But he didn’t actually get it inked. He just wanted it drawn on. And it wasn’t a one-time thing. Je’s been coming back for years to get it redrawn. Still does.”

Wen Shang’s brows drew together, thoughtful.

Then he asked, “Why doesn’t he just get it tattooed permanently?”

“I asked him the same thing once. He said his uncle, who passed away, didn’t allow tattoos. So he kept that promise. Only had it drawn, never inked. And every year, right before he goes to his uncle’s grave, he comes to me to have it completely removed. He’s kind of an interesting guy.”

Xiang Yang added, “Lately he’s been coming in more than usual. He shows up, gets it drawn again, and then within days comes back asking me to clean it off. No clue what the hell he’s doing.”

Wen Shang went silent for a beat, then turned to Xiang Yang.

“What’s his name?”

“Huh? Why?”

“No reason. I just think I might know him.”

Xiang Yang didn’t say the name. Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolled through a bit, then handed it to Wen Shang.

“Here. This was earlier this year. Me and him took this together.”

—

Wen Shang had been lost in thought. It wasn’t until Luo Yi called his name for the third time that he snapped out of it.

It wasn’t until Luo Yi called his name for the third time that he finally snapped out of it.

“Ah Shang, what’s got you so deep in thought?” Luo Yi asked with a cheerful smile.

“Just some stuff from the last company meeting,” Wen Shang said as he lifted his teacup and finished it in one go.

Luo Yi looked at his serious, focused nephew with pride in his eyes.

“Some people still doubt your leadership just because you took over your father’s business so young. But I know you’ve got what it takes. Keep proving them wrong. Don’t give them a reason to look down on you.”

Wen Shang smirked slightly. “Got it, Uncle.”

“By the way, how’s Xiao Yuan doing lately?”

“He’s alright. The wound on his back is healing up bit by bit, and he’s in good spirits. But that guy has no self-discipline. The doctor tells him not to eat something, and it’s the first thing he puts in his mouth.” Just thinking about Mu Yuan’s carefree, lawless behavior made Wen Shang’s expression darken again.

“How are things between you two? Getting along?”

“More or less.” In reality, they argued every damn day.

“That’s good to hear.” Luo Yi nodded with a gentle smile.

Wen Shang paused for a second, then asked, “Uncle, how much do you actually know about Mu Yuan?”

“To be honest, not that much,” Luo Yi said. “He once told me his family was gone early on. Said he dropped out of school at sixteen and just started drifting. Surviving on the streets like that… it couldn’t have been easy.”

“His family’s all gone?”

“Yeah. Didn’t he ever mention that to you?” Luo Yi noticed the thoughtful look on Wen Shang’s face and added, “But that’s not exactly something to be proud of. Maybe he just didn’t feel like talking about it.”

“He doesn’t have any siblings?”

Luo Yi shook his head. “Xiao Yuan’s an only child. No brothers, no sisters.”

Wen Shang frowned. “I thought he had a twin brother.”

Luo Yi raised a brow. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it. Did Xiao Yuan tell you that, or did you hear it from someone else?”

Wen Shang didn’t answer. He pulled out his phone and stared at the photo of Xiang Yang and Mu Yuan. The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became. Xiao Xing and Mu Yuan had never once appeared together. Every time, it had always been one or the other. Never both.

He let out a soft chuckle and stood up from his seat.

“Uncle, I’ll head back now. I’ll come by again another day.”

“You’re not staying for tea?”

“Can’t. I’ve got work waiting.”

He grabbed his car keys from the table and walked out quickly.

Back at the office, Wen Shang made a call to Xiao Xing. The phone was off. He didn’t try again. Instead, he rang up his friend Gao Zhiyu.

“Well well, Young Master Wen calling me personally? You must need something.” Gao Zhiyu’s voice carried a lazy grin.

Wen Shang didn’t bother denying it. He got straight to the point.

“I’ll give you a phone number. I want the full call history of the owner.”

Then he added, “As fast as possible.”

“No problem,” Gao Zhiyu said immediately. “But I can only pull up data from the past year. Anything older’s been wiped.”

“Fine. Send it to my email when you’re done. How much? I’ll transfer you the payment.”

“Fuck off.” Gao Zhiyu snapped. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you? We’ve been brothers for how long and you’re bringing up money? You trying to piss me off?”

Wen Shang laughed under his breath. “Shut up and do your job. Talk later.”

Gao Zhiyu worked fast. Before Wen Shang even got off work, the compiled data had already landed in his inbox, neatly packaged with a note: Everything you asked for. Knock yourself out.

Wen Shang downloaded the compressed folder, unzipped it, and opened the contents. Inside were files of call logs and voice recordings. He began skipping through the entries, sorting them by date. Over the course of the past year, the number in question had two registered users. Both used the name Xiao Xing, but they were two different people.

The first one he didn’t recognize.

The second Xiao Xing had only started using the number two months ago. Wen Shang checked the timeline. It lined up perfectly with the days he first met Mu Xing.

To be sure, he dug up two of the recorded calls made by Mu Yuan to Xiao Xing. He listened closely from start to finish.

There was no Xiao Xing.

Just Mu Yuan, talking to himself.

Wen Shang still had a few unanswered questions, but the truth was more or less sitting in plain sight.

Maybe it was because he had been around Mu Yuan too much lately, but Wen Shang suddenly found a phrase popping into his head out of nowhere.

Fuck this shit.

That night, the housekeeper made stewed black chicken with cordyceps. Mu Yuan’s appetite exploded. He downed five bowls of soup, practically finished off the whole damn bird himself. Gripping a soy-sauce-soaked drumstick, he tore into it like he hadn’t eaten in days. Across the table, Wen Shang hadn’t even picked up his chopsticks.

Mu Yuan wiped the oil off his mouth with a napkin. “You’re not eating? This stuff’s pretty damn good.”

“I don’t like chicken.” Wen Shang stared at him.

Mu Yuan gave an uninterested “oh” and went back to devouring his meal.

After a while, Wen Shang spoke again. “I called Xiao Xing today. His phone’s off.”

“Probably out of battery,” Mu Yuan replied. “He’s been real busy lately. Even if you call, he probably won’t get back to you.”

“He’s been on this trip for over half a month. Still not back?”

Mu Yuan clicked his tongue. “Tch, what’s so strange about that? You went on a business trip once and disappeared for over a month too.”

“Does your brother have a boyfriend?”

“No.” Mu Yuan didn’t even look up. He was too focused on tearing the meat off a bone to notice the look on Wen Shang’s face had shifted.

“I’m thinking of asking him out when he gets back.”

Mu Yuan had a chicken bone in his mouth. He nearly swallowed it whole.

“Cough, cough, cough.. what the hell did you just say?”

“He’s a good guy. Great personality. And he’s exactly my type.”

“Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“Oh?” Wen Shang leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes watching him with amused interest. “Why not?”

“He’s not gonna date you. Even if he says yes, I won’t allow it. I’m his older brother.”

“My relationship with your brother has nothing to do with you. You might be his brother, but you’ve got no right to meddle in who he dates.”

Mu Yuan suddenly burst into laughter. “Fine then. Go ahead. Ask him. I’ll bet you everything I’ve got that he’ll never say yes.”

He stood up and started walking away from the table. As he passed Wen Shang, he slapped a hand on his shoulder and grinned.

“Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Wen Shang’s eyes sharpened, something dangerous flashing across his face. Suddenly, he grabbed Mu Yuan’s arm and yanked up his sleeve. Then he pulled a cloth from under the table, soaked with turpentine, and scrubbed hard across Mu Yuan’s tattooed arm.

The twin-wolf design smeared instantly into a blurry mess of blue and black.

Mu Yuan froze. He had no idea what just happened, but his gut screamed that something was seriously wrong. He shoved Wen Shang off him and bolted toward the front door.

The door didn’t budge.

It was already locked.