AFMWDX Chapter 22

TL: Hua

Chapter 22: Jealousy

The bedroom light was off. In the quiet space, only the earphones were speaking.

“Brother, you hurt me.”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful next time.”

“When is ‘next time’? Tomorrow, the day after, or the day after that?”

Gastrodia elata, Polygala tenuifolia, Sophora flavescens, Ophiopogon japonicus, Corydalis yanhusuo—all seemed to have lost their efficacy. Even though he had already exceeded the dosage, Xu Baizhang still couldn’t suppress the surging in his veins.

He tapped open his phone album and entered the password.

The first photo: a young man curled up, his legs and knees tightly pressed together. There were red marks on his skin from bites and scratches. His limbs were so thin Xu Baizhang could wrap his hand around them, and so white they seemed to melt into the soft sheets.

The second photo: his legs were still pressed tightly together, as if he was trying hard to conceal the area between his thighs. Looking further up, on his right thigh, there were words written in black marker.

[Qingshuitang 0927]

Eighteen to twenty-nine, eleven years. He was still him, and those legs, from beginning to end, had never changed.

*

Recently, Liu Siyan had an overseas assignment. Yu Qingtang and she stayed up for two nights in a video conference to finalize the proposal for “Legal Life.”

It was eleven o’clock at night when Yu Qingtang emerged from the office. His new home was very close to the TV station. Lately, he had been following Xu Baizhang’s lead and walking to and from work.

It was late autumn, and an icy rain was falling late at night. Yu Qingtang stood at the entrance of the TV station, tightening his collar and searching for a nearby taxi.

Footsteps sounded beside him, and a black umbrella sheltered him from the wind and rain.

Yu Qingtang turned his head. “Director, why are you here?”

Liao Wenfeng: “The station’s ace is working overtime; how dare I not lead by example?”

Yu Qingtang smiled. “Please don’t tease me.”

Liao Wenfeng: “Didn’t drive?”

Yu Qingtang: “No, I’m calling a taxi.”

Liao Wenfeng looked at him and said, “I’ll give you a ride.”

“No need; my place is quite close.”

“You moved?”

Yu Qingtang: “I’m living with my husband.”

Liao Wenfeng’s gaze darkened slightly. “Your husband shouldn’t mind the director taking you home, should he?”

“It’s not about whether he minds. It’s truly unnecessary.”

Liao Wenfeng: “Qingtang, refusing your director like this, isn’t that a little…”

The xenon headlights were bright and dazzling. The driver must have done it intentionally, using the light to cut through the space between the two, like a forcibly drawn caution tape.

Xu Baizhang got out of the car, wrapped Yu Qingtang in his large coat, pulled him away from under the black umbrella, embraced him in the wind and snow, and put him into the passenger seat.

The car had warm air and Mozart’s piano music playing.

Yu Qingtang finally spoke as they neared home. “Why are you still awake?”

Xu Baizhang’s routine was extremely regular. Once, when Yu Qingtang wanted to invite him to watch a movie at ten o’clock at night, he found the lights next door were already off.

“To pick you up and bring you home,” Xu Baizhang stared straight ahead, like an emotionless machine.

Yu Qingtang: “Why didn’t you say so beforehand?”

Xu Baizhang: “I sent a message. You didn’t reply.”

Yu Qingtang looked down. There were two unread text messages and one missed call on his phone.

The call was half an hour ago. One text was at 8 PM, and the other was an hour ago, saying the car was parked across from the TV station.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been planning a new segment recently and got too caught up in work.”

Xu Baizhang “mn-hmmed,” his cold tone impossible to read.

He shouldn’t be angry just about the unreturned messages, so Yu Qingtang guessed, “Are you jealous?”

“A little bit.” Xu Baizhang stepped on the gas.

Yu Qingtang: “I thought you’d say no.”

For such a direct question, denying it is the most polite or face-saving answer.

The car sped up a bit, and Xu Baizhang said, “Perhaps a little more than a little.”

“He’s my director. We’re just a supervisor-subordinate relationship, and there has never been any crossing of boundaries. Even if you hadn’t come today, I wouldn’t have gotten into his car.”

Yu Qingtang was absolutely candid. What he said was exactly what he thought. As for the rumors in the station, Yu Qingtang didn’t mention them, not wanting to upset Xu Baizhang.

“Understood.”

Xu Baizhang was wearing home clothes underneath. His expression didn’t betray anything, but judging by his actions, he seemed to have rushed out, not even wearing his glasses.

Yu Qingtang tilted his head, admiring him closely. “You look quite cute when you’re jealous.”

The word didn’t quite fit him, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant either. Xu Baizhang’s eyebrows twitched slightly. “In what way am I cute?”

“It’s just…” Yu Qingtang pondered for two seconds. “I want to see it again.”

Xu Baizhang parked the car in the underground garage. “Tormenting me?”

Yu Qingtang: “Can’t I?”

Xu Baizhang paused but finally smiled. “You can.”

“I was just joking.” Yu Qingtang tightened his coat and got out of the car first. “I will maintain distance from him.”

The two waited for the elevator side-by-side. Yu Qingtang said, “Right, are you only consulting until noon on Saturday?”

Xu Baizhang: “Yes, is something going on?”

Yu Qingtang: “Mom and Dad want to come for a housewarming lunch on Saturday.”

“Okay, I’ll be back to prepare.”

“How about we have hot pot?”

With winter arriving, hot pot was warm and convenient, and Xu Baizhang wouldn’t have to busy himself back and forth.

Xu Baizhang: “Sure, whatever you say.”

—

On Saturday morning, Yu Qingtang finished his grocery run and brought back two large bags of hot pot ingredients.

Although he wasn’t skilled at cooking, he wasn’t completely helpless. When his parents arrived carrying large bags, Yu Qingtang had already prepared the hot pot and the soup base. Seeing him open the door, the first thing his parents asked was, “Where’s Xiao Xu?”

“He’s at work this morning. He’ll be back soon.”

His parents wandered around the new apartment, their smiles never fading. They were satisfied with everything they saw.

Mother Yu pressed on the mattress. “Why are you still using this blanket?”

As soon as the marriage was settled, his mother had made a full set of new bedding. Considering he was sleeping alone, Yu Qingtang hadn’t unwrapped the new blanket.

Yu Qingtang: “I’m used to this one.”

Mother Yu: “Isn’t it too small for the two of you?”

Yu Qingtang: “…”

He had forgotten about that.

Newly married couples are supposed to be passionate, and Yu Qingtang didn’t know how to explain their living separately. Rather than letting his parents worry, it was better to gloss over it.

“Don’t worry about it needlessly. The young couple hugs so tightly at night they become one person, so a single blanket isn’t too small,” said Father Yu. “When we first got married, didn’t we hug all night, too?”

Father Yu sighed. “Who would have thought that less than forty years later, you wouldn’t want to hug me anymore?”

Mother Yu smiled and glanced at him. “Your snoring is so loud. It’s a miracle I haven’t chased you to the next room yet. If I hugged you while you slept, my ears would be deafened.”

Yu Qingtang: “…”

They really didn’t treat their own son as an outsider.

“Later, I’ll ask Xiao Xu if he can cure my snoring, so my wife might still hug me when we sleep.” Dad came over and hugged Mom. “Seeing our son in such good spirits, Xiao Xu definitely doesn’t snore.”

Yu Qingtang felt redundant and conflicted. As a young man under thirty, his married life was not as good as his parents’, who had been married for over thirty years.

Before lunch even started, they were force-feeding him with a sickeningly sweet and cloying dose of PDA.

Dad pulled Mom towards the other room. “Stop looking only at the young couple’s bedroom; let’s go check out the one next door.”

Yu Qingtang hastily stopped them. “Mom, Dad, come upstairs. I’ll show you the flowers and fish Baizhang keeps.”

Next door was Xu Baizhang’s bedroom, and if they went in, their arrangement was very likely to be exposed.

Parents are like this: even if you are perfectly capable of standing on your own, in their eyes, you are always a child. Since they rarely visited, the old couple simply couldn’t sit still. No matter how clean the room was, they could always find a “flaw.” They might nag you, but they were the ones who buried their heads and worked.

Yu Qingtang rushed to help and tried to dissuade them a couple of times, but it was all futile. He simply went to the kitchen to prepare the hot pot ingredients.

When Xu Baizhang returned, Yu Qingtang was grating potatoes. The round tuber turned into long, slender shreds in the metal mold.

Xu Baizhang washed his hands, not even bothering to change his clothes. “Didn’t we agree I’d do this when I got back?”

“It’s rare for Mom and Dad to visit; let me at least put on a show once.” Yu Qingtang continued grating the potatoes. “You go change first, lest they blame me for taking advantage of you.”

Two weeks after moving in, this was the second time Yu Qingtang had been in the kitchen. Since getting married, he had become practically incapable of taking care of himself.

“You are supposed to take advantage of me.”

Xu Baizhang spoke very softly. Yu Qingtang wondered if he had misheard.

The result of his inattention was, “Hiss…!”

When Xu Baizhang pinched his bleeding fingertip, Yu Qingtang himself started to suspect he was doing it on purpose.

Within a few days, he had cut his hand twice in the kitchen, on the same finger, no less.

Only this time, it was not taken into someone’s mouth.

Yet, Yu Qingtang found himself missing that sensation—the stinging, the numbness, the wet heat, being tightly bitten, flipped on the tongue, and vigorously sucked. That feeling was just like…

Making love.

“What are you thinking about?” Xu Baizhang wrapped a band-aid around his finger, his eyes glancing at his profile like a gust of wind. “Your ears are red.”

“Nothing.” Yu Qingtang turned his head, his gaze drawn to the potato shreds soaking in water, letting the starch settle. A few shreds were suspended above, straight and listless yet floating gently. “Didn’t you say you’d be careful next time?”

If he wasn’t going to lick it, how could he be careful?

Xu Baizhang’s tone was flat, without any inflection. “The wound is too deep; licking it again could cause infection.”

He understood everything, yet he looked like he understood nothing.

“Oh, well, be careful next time then.” Yu Qingtang looked at the half-grated potato, touched his bandaged finger, and hesitated about whether to continue.

“Qingtang.” Xu Baizhang stood still, his gaze piercing through him. “The thing I want to lick is not just your finger.”

“Is that so?” Yu Qingtang’s heart felt clawed by a cat, but his tone was a challenging defiance. “Where else do you want to lick?”

Both their gazes instinctively shifted toward the living room.

The kitchen was open-plan, with only very narrow walls on the sides. Dad was sitting on the sofa fixing a chair leg, and Mom was wiping a vase on the balcony.

The stove glowed red, and the sound of boiling water was like the chant of a heart-cleansing mantra.

“Xiao Tang, where are the scissors? Bring them to me.”

“Coming.” Yu Qingtang was amused by the thought that had just sprung up. He looked back at the potato. “I’ll take the scissors to Mom. You take care of this… Ah, mmm!”

His chest bumped against his back, a hand slid across his waist and abdomen, and his body was contained, forced back into the narrow area inside the narrow wall.

It was cramped and unsafe.

Yu Qingtang was still startled. The hand gripping him was like a tree spirit from a sci-fi film that could freely control its branches, so tight he thought he might be tossed into the air.

The forceful attitude felt like an illusion, and the hot breath against his ear was a warning and a retribution for the provocateur.

“I also like to… lick right here.”

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