IHSAGW Chapter 13

Huo Weiran’s Chinese was very good.

“Gege” could be a form of address for an older man of the same generation… or it could be an intimate nickname used between lovers.

But regardless of the meaning, the one being called “gege” always seemed to be standing at a height, quietly displaying his advantages in age and capability, without needing to point anything out. It naturally made people feel respect… and closeness.

In his memory, Huo Weiran had never called anyone by this title. Even when he was young and alone among the youth training drivers, he rejected anyone who tried to get close, let alone using such an intimate form of address.

But the person before him—

He was different.

Huo Weiran slowly lifted his gaze and met those amber eyes filled with a gentle smile.

His eyes were beautiful, his brow and eye lines smooth and soft, carrying a gentle, light quality like autumn water. There was not the slightest hint of aggression. Looking deeper, it felt as though there was a quiet, flowing clarity within them. It was impossible to feel any dislike toward him.

He had a sharply defined, straight nose that added dimension to his face. On the left side of the bridge of his nose was a small mole paired with those lovely eyes, it gave him an otherworldly, elegant charm.

Huo Weiran’s heartbeat started losing its rhythm. He looked away for what felt like the hundredth time, but couldn’t stop himself from glancing back only to see the young man casually leaning against the soft chair, one hand resting on the table, tapping lightly in a steady rhythm.

The other’s gaze was still on him, but something in it had shifted. A faint shadow seemed to spread out from beneath the young man’s feet, darkening the floor, sliding up from the corners of the room, climbing the walls and reaching the ceiling, overlooking everything from above.

He was not as harmless as he appeared. Beneath that humble, gentle exterior was someone who controlled and looked down on—everything.

Huo Weiran’s heart thumped wildly, blood surging uncontrollably.

It was just a form of address, but the younger man clearly wasn’t giving any sincerity. After waiting for a long time, Nian Le noticed that the tips of Huo Weiran’s ears were turning red.

If he was shy, he could just say so.

Nian Le couldn’t help lifting the corners of his lips, choosing not to tease the young man any further.

“Calling me by my name is fine too.” Nian Le stood and placed the dishes into the dishwasher.

After staying up the whole night, he forced himself to stay awake and returned to the living room table to review the game where he’d cried in frustration the day before. He set up some life-and-death positions to practice, and after finishing, he turned around only to find that Huo Weiran was quietly returning the clean dishes to the cabinet one by one.

Feeling somewhat pleased, Nian Le cleaned up the board and went upstairs to catch up on sleep. Behind him, Huo Weiran, holding an empty bowl, watched the young man’s departing figure until he disappeared, then finally lowered his eyes and placed the bowl into the cabinet.

He closed the cabinet door with one hand. The surface was wiped so clean it reflected his figure faintly.

His naturally wavy hair reached his shoulders. The messy strands at the front almost covered his eyes, and the dark circles beneath them made him look entirely disheveled. Huo Weiran stared quietly for a long time before slowly realizing that the person in the reflection who looked like a vagrant—was himself.

Without thinking further, Huo Weiran rushed upstairs, pushed open the bedroom door with one hand, quickly took off his clothes, and entered the bathroom.

The price of staying up all night was poor energy. Nian Le slept for more than ten hours, waking with sore shoulders and arms, and a dull heaviness in his head.

After splashing cold water on his face, he went downstairs to cook. Three dishes and one soup this time over ten minutes faster than before.

Huo Weiran came down right on time, helping carry dishes and tableware. As Nian Le sat at the dining table, he noticed that the young man was standing across from him, not sitting for a long while.

Looking up, Nian Le saw Huo Weiran in deep gray casual pants and a loose white T-shirt. His sluggish brain followed the line of sight to the stylish metal chain across his chest and suddenly understood why he hadn’t sat down yet.

He’d changed into new clothes.

Previously, that black tank top Huo Weiran had washed three identical ones at once, each stretched out by his physique. If Nian Le wore them, they would probably look loose.

“It looks good,” Nian Le said with a smile. It was rare for the young man to try a different style.

Huo Weiran sat calmly. Just as he picked up his utensils, a soft chuckle came from across the table.

No wonder Nian Le couldn’t hold it in. Only after Huo Weiran sat down did he finally notice that he’d also changed his hairstyle. The messy strands that usually fell over his forehead were all brushed back, revealing a smooth, clean brow. His shoulder-length curls were tied in a ponytail with a black hair tie but since he had done it with one hand, the ponytail was noticeably crooked.

Nian Le couldn’t help recalling those old trending “crooked ponytails.” Looking at the tall, school-idol-like Huo Weiran in front of him, his smile was almost impossible to suppress.

Until the young man lifted his gaze, those gray eyes suddenly locking onto him. Nian Le immediately quieted, seeing Huo Weiran’s features clearly for the first time.

He had the unmistakable appearance of a mixed-race youth. His eyebrows were sharply defined, paired with wide double eyelids rarely easy for Asians to carry, a high nasal bridge, and cold, striking gray eyes framed by thick, long lashes.

Nian Le could easily imagine that as a child, he was the kind of boy who could walk down a street and make everyone turn to look at him.

Perhaps because of Nian Le’s earlier laughter, Huo Weiran lowered his head to check his clothes, trying hard to hide his confusion, wondering what exactly was wrong.

“Your hair is a bit crooked.” Nian Le stood up, moving behind him. His fingers were about to touch Huo Weiran’s hair when he suddenly remembered—the young man didn’t seem to like being touched.

Trying to adjust the tilt of the hair tie without touching skin, Nian Le leaned in carefully. The next moment, Huo Weiran abruptly stood and walked upstairs without a word, entering his room.

Nian Le looked at his own fingers, he definitely hadn’t touched him. But then he heard the sound of a door opening again on the second floor.

Turning around, he saw Huo Weiran returning, quickly approaching and stopping right in front of him.

Nian Le lifted his gaze to those gray eyes. Before the young man turned away shyly, he caught something unexpected nervousness.

Huo Weiran slowly extended his hand toward him.

In his palm was a comb.

The wound on his hand still hadn’t healed. The bandage Nian Le applied yesterday had disappeared at some point, but the youth’s healing ability was remarkable—overnight, the wound had already scabbed over.

Nian Le took the comb but set it aside first. He retrieved the medical kit from the living room, found the anti-inflammatory ointment, and applied it gently along the two scars in the center of Huo Weiran’s palm, before wrapping it again in fresh gauze.

“This not only prevents infection but also helps fade the scar,” he reminded softly. “Try not to get it wet.”

Huo Weiran looked at the newly wrapped hand, flexing his fingers faintly. The slight tug on the scab stung a little.

The pain was negligible, yet this person treated the injury with such care.

Nian Le picked up the comb, removed the crooked hair tie, and gently brushed the hair a few times, carefully avoiding touching his skin.

Huo Weiran’s natural curls had the perfect wave, something many people couldn’t achieve even with perming. It wasn’t difficult to brush, though tying the ponytail without touching him was impossible.

Nian Le worked quickly. He looped the hair tie around his own fingers, gathered the young man’s thick hair into a handful, and tied it twice—both loops almost too tight.

It was the first time Huo Weiran had experienced something like this. He’d always kept his hair short; at most, he only needed to run his fingers through it. Now, someone was gathering his hair from behind, the gentle pull making the ends brush against his neck like fingertips gliding across his skin. A strange heat trickled down his spine, leaving a tingling sensation that made all his muscles tense involuntarily.

Only when Nian Le finished everything and returned to the dining table did Huo Weiran snap out of the lingering sensations. The faint feeling on his neck remained but it wasn’t unpleasant.

Huo Weiran picked up his utensils. With the gauze wrapped around his hand, the utensils didn’t touch the injured area. Not only did it feel warm, but there was also a soft sense of being protected.

Seeing that his younger brother didn’t seem to mind having his hair tied, Nian Le continued eating. He had only swallowed a few bites when he noticed the person across from him suddenly stop. Those gray eyes lowered slightly, as if hiding some emotion.

“Is it tied a bit too tight?”
Nian Le glanced at Huo Weiran’s hair. He had to admit after a bit of tidying up, the person in front of him looked much more refreshed than before.

“No.”
Huo Weiran stared at his bowl, his tone deliberately indifferent.

“You’re so skilled at tying hair… have you done it for someone else before?”

Nian Le paused for a moment. The faint smile in his eyes disappeared, but his expression remained calm as always.

“Yes. I’ve even braided someone’s hair before.”

Huo Weiran tightened his grip on his utensils, then after a moment shoved a large piece of broccoli into his mouth.

Nian Le checked the time, then sped up and finished breakfast in ten minutes. He went upstairs to gather his things for the competition. He had just reached the door when he heard a loud sound behind him.

At some point, Huo Weiran had stood up. His plastered arm hit the edge of the table with a thud, causing Nian Le to immediately turn back.

“Does it hurt?”

“Where did you hit it?”

Nian Le examined the plaster on his arm, then looked at his face. His eyebrows were cold, indifferent he didn’t look like he was in pain.

But when he saw the concern in Nian Le’s eyes, the tightness in Huo Weiran’s chest loosened a little in a strange, pleasant way.

“Do you… have any siblings with long hair?”
Huo Weiran finally voiced the question that had been circling in his head.

“No.”
Nian Le answered cleanly.

In an instant, the heaviness returned to Huo Weiran’s chest.

After confirming he was fine, Nian Le left at his usual time. He expected heavier weekend traffic in Jiangzhou, but surprisingly, the roads were smooth.

The nine-day, eight-round tournament was already halfway through. Nian Le glanced at his undefeated record so far, then checked the new round’s pairings. He found his table number and opponent, and casually scanned the overall matchup list.

In the first four rounds, he had faced amateur players. But today’s opponent was someone who had just passed the Go Professional Qualification Tournament.

The Go qualification tournament was like the college entrance exam of the Go world, tens of thousands attempting to cross a single-plank bridge. Nian Le had been following the event; this year over six hundred competitors participated, but only thirty-six successfully earned professional status.

Passing meant becoming a professional Go player—joining a team, competing in the A or B leagues, and climbing the ranks to higher levels.

Nian Le found his table. Not long after he sat down, a bespectacled young man approached—the opponent for this round.

“Hello, I’m Gao Ran.”
The young player was very polite, greeting him before sitting opposite and habitually checking the game clock.

“Hello.” Nian Le smiled lightly. “My name is Nian Le.”

“I’ve heard of you.”
Gao Ran pushed up his black-rimmed glasses and met his gaze.

“You’re the one who made a student from the Mianhai Dojo cry and forfeit last round.”