EOD Chapter23

The moment Yi Yang stepped into Lu Zhao’s home, he sensed something was off.

While changing his shoes, he asked, “Has a Sub been over recently?”

Lu Zhao paused slightly as he hung his overcoat on the rack. At the question, he subconsciously thought of Zhou Zefeng, though his instincts resisted labeling him a “Sub.” He nodded and said, “How is your nose sharper than a dog’s?”

Just as Yi Yang was about to say something, Xuebing came bounding over joyfully. However, seeing Yi Yang, the dog hesitated to come too close, acting as if he were seeing a stranger after being apart for so long.

Yi Yang scooped Xuebing up into a tight embrace, stroking his fluffy fur. He looked up at Lu Zhao and said, “I didn’t expect you to raise it so well.”

Lu Zhao poured himself a glass of water at the kitchen counter. “Did you think I wouldn’t raise it well?”

“Yeah, after all, you used to be in cardiothoracic surgery and were always so busy,” Yi Yang shrugged, naturally pinching Xuebing’s ears to play with him. “Plus, you said before that you didn’t like him. I figured for someone with Dom tendencies like you, there was a chance you might mistreat a dog.”

Lu Zhao unpleasantly slapped his hand away and said, “Don’t hurt him.”

Yi Yang let go reluctantly, made himself right at home by sitting on the sofa, and turned on the television. “Do you have any mooncakes left? The Chinese supermarkets over where I am have never carried those lotus paste mooncakes we used to eat, let alone the savory meat ones. I really miss them.”

Lu Zhao rummaged around, pulled out a few boxes of mooncakes from his last supermarket trip, placed them on the coffee table, and got ready to grab his clothes to take a shower.

Yi Yang picked and chose through the bag. Most of them had already expired, leaving only one box in orange packaging. Inside were mooncakes that made one’s stomach sour just by looking at them; orange molten lava, snow-skin citrus, grapefruit mochi…

“Ge, you are insane! I can’t believe you managed to scavenge such bizarre mooncakes! This is even worse than river snail rice noodle flavored ones!”

Hearing Yi Yang’s exclamation, Lu Zhao curiously peeked over to look at the mooncake box in his hands.

He hadn’t bought this.

Lu Zhao recalled the day he went to the supermarket with Zhou Zefeng.

Lu Zhao didn’t usually overthink things when shopping. Thinking that the Mid-Autumn Festival was around the corner, he had simply grabbed a few boxes of mooncakes and tossed them into the shopping cart. However, he remembered that he had picked the most ordinary double-yolk lotus paste ones, all in elegant and luxurious packaging.

When they finished paying and came out, Zhou Zefeng had told Lu Zhao to find a place to rest first because he still had something else to buy. A moment later, he had returned carrying a bag, and Lu Zhao hadn’t paid attention to what he had bought.

Thinking back on it now, when they were walking out of the supermarket, there was a promotional display stand by the entrance for a brand’s newly released fruit-series mooncakes. Lu Zhao hadn’t paid attention at the time, but now it seemed that when Zhou Zefeng went back, this must have been what he bought.

Lu Zhao remembered the inexplicable conversation they had shared on the bench amidst the trees of the residential compound.

……

“When I was little, my family would pick osmanthus flowers to make osmanthus cake.”

“Is it good?”

“It’s alright. Better than mooncakes.”

“You don’t like eating mooncakes?”

“Too sweet. Unless it’s fruit-flavored kind, then I can tolerate it.”

“Especially orange-flavored, right?”

……

Zhou Zefeng was truly an absolute idiot.

“Ge???” Yi Yang looked at the bizarre scene before him in astonishment. “What are you smirking at? Is it really that funny? Didn’t you buy this yourself?”

Lu Zhao reined in the corners of his mouth, which had nearly grown stiff from smiling, and said casually, “An idiot gave it to me.”

This was the first time Yi Yang had ever seen him smile like this. Watching Lu Zhao’s cheerful retreating figure, Yi Yang was just about to tear into a piece of mooncake to feast when Lu Zhao suddenly turned back around, packed the mooncake away, and put the lid back on the box.

Meeting Yi Yang’s face full of question marks, Lu Zhao said in a breezy, nonchalant manner, “It’s about to expire. You’re not allowed to eat it.”

Yi Yang felt that his brother might just be completely falling for someone.

Once Lu Zhao went into the bathroom, Yi Yang logged onto Twitter and familiarly opened Lu Zhao’s account, Yi Yang only followed him.

Lu Zhao hadn’t updated in three months.

He scrolled through the videos one by one. Generally speaking, Lu Zhao wouldn’t hook up with the same person repeatedly, so the six videos featured all kinds of different men. That was until he dragged the screen down to the very last one and opened it.

Yi Yang watched the video with an expressionless face, one he had already seen countless times, until the final second, when “Are you happy now?” ended and the screen went black.Yet Yi Yang knew the development of the story that followed that sentence.

“Are you happy now?”

Yi Yang had been panting heavily. Lu Zhao took off his gloves and set them aside, his face still maintaining a layer of unmelting frost. The way he looked at Yi Yang hadn’t changed at all because of a single session of org@sm control. Yi Yang knew that Lu Zhao still only regarded him as a younger brother; whether that was a misfortune or a blessing, he didn’t know.

“There is nothing to be happy or unhappy about. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Lu Zhao stretched his hands, his joints cracking with crisp popping sounds. “Did you think I couldn’t see through your tricks?”

Yi Yang had smiled effortlessly. He knew his childish excuses were utterly laughable and couldn’t be hidden from Lu Zhao anyway; the only reason Lu Zhao had turned a blind eye was out of tolerance for his younger brother. Even so, he still asked, refusing to give up, “Didn’t you feel even a single bit of a sensation just now?”

“To be honest, I did.” Lu Zhao poured Yi Yang a glass of water and said, “I never thought my desire for control and retaliation would actually be satisfied one day. You’ve fulfilled my obsession, so I ought to say thank you to you.”

Yi Yang didn’t say anything more. He had all the things Lu Zhao wanted, but what Yi Yang truly wanted, he would never be able to possess in this lifetime.

Once Lu Zhao left, Yi Yang took down the phone placed on the bookshelf and pressed the red button to stop the recording.

A few days later, as he pulled his suitcase and prepared to board a flight to LA, Yi Yang stopped at the gate and handed Lu Zhao a piece of paper. On it were a Twitter ID and password written down.

“Ge,” Yi Yang hugged Lu Zhao as if saying goodbye to his youth, “that video garnered 5,102 likes. If you like it, you can keep doing it, as long as it makes you happy.”

Lu Zhao hugged him back, properly instructing him, “Study hard, take good care of Mom, and don’t overthink things.”

Yi Yang knew Lu Zhao was rejecting him again just like the countless rejections before. He smiled faintly with an air of nonchalance before waving goodbye to Lu Zhao.

A few weeks later, in the library of a university in Los Angeles, Yi Yang scrolled to an update from Lu Zhao. There was no caption, merely continuing the “1” that Yi Yang had previously typed at random; this video was labeled as “2.”

He wore his earphones and quietly watched the video to the end.

After that came 3, 4, 5, and 6. Yi Yang corresponded with Lu Zhao through emails to keep up with his daily routine, while catching glimpses of his private life through Twitter. He knew Lu Zhao no longer hooked up with men now but had switched to orgasm control instead. This new hobby was something Yi Yang had introduced to Lu Zhao, which gave Yi Yang a secret sense of satisfaction.

In any case, just like with those previous friends-with-benefits, Lu Zhao treated all these Subs exactly the same; no one had ever walked into his heart. At the very least, there was still an unbreakable tie of blood between Yi Yang and Lu Zhao. Even if it was impossible, it was still a closer possibility than anyone else had.

That was until Yi Yang saw the Lu Zhao of today. He had never seen his brother display such a genuine smile from the bottom of his heart. Even when their mother cooked a sumptuous dinner for him, he would only give a faint smile.

As if in a daze, Yi Yang walked upstairs and entered Lu Zhao’s room, only to find that the ironclad leather sofa was gone.

Lu Zhao happened to have just finished his shower. Yi Yang pretended to ask casually, “Where’s that sofa?”

“Oh, in here.” Lu Zhao opened the door to the walk-in closet, dragged the sofa out, and put it back in its original spot.

Yi Yang thought to himself, Just why on earth did he hide the sofa away?

He guessed that it must be for reasons he wouldn’t want to hear.

/

Zhou Zefeng lay in bed. Tonight, he hadn’t lit any aromatherapy, nor was he listening to music. He attempted to eliminate all external assistance to force himself to sleep, yet he tossed and turned until two-thirty in the morning.

At 2:31 AM, a text message arrived on his secondary number. [Are you asleep?]

Zhou Zefeng had never used this number to register for any apps; its function was equivalent to a bottomless wishing well.

He had only ever sent text messages to one person.

You can unlock the complete epub version HERE!