Chapter 1#

Reunion#

The autumn wind was bleak, and branches outside the window flashed by. The interior of the bus emitted a dull, foul odor, like a mixture of fermented overnight meals, beer, and cigarette smoke. A child in the neighboring seat clutched a pack of spicy strips, screaming as he tried to get down from his mother’s lap. Nearby, a middle-aged man was shouting loudly into his phone in an unintelligible local dialect.

For a moment, Han Qingsu wanted to jump straight off the bus.

“We’re here—Wucheng is right ahead!” The driver’s broken Mandarin was booming. “Don’t forget your suitcases if you have them!”

Han Qingsu frowned as he got off, the bitter autumn wind hitting him full in the face. A few young people who looked like students crowded in front of the bus to get their luggage, so he simply stood back.

The driver, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, shouted at them. Han Qingsu only understood the part about “hurrying up.” With a dark expression, he pushed through the people in front, dragging out his own suitcase. His hand-tailored overcoat was wrinkled from the squeeze. By the time he dragged his suitcase out of the bus station, he discovered a smear of spicy strip oil on his clothes. He thought of the black grime under that brat’s fingernails and nearly gagged.

A ten-thousand-yuan coat was tossed into the trash can, as if he were throwing away his last bit of dignity.

However, thinking of those “friends” in City A who kicked him while he was down and Chu Jingyuan, who had run faster than anyone else, his “face” was already long gone.

Withered leaves drifted through the air. He stood on the dusty roadside in his leather shoes. The dilapidated small buildings nearby made him feel as if he had traveled twenty years back in time. The strange colors of the taxis made him instinctively resistant, yet even for such junky cars, people were scrambling to get a seat.

After being beaten to two consecutive taxis, Han Qingsu became irritable. His features were naturally sharp and fierce; when his expression darkened, he looked even more intimidating. He was wearing a thin black shirt and expensive leather shoes under well-tailored trousers, looking completely out of place next to the pancake stall coated in layers of old grease.

The owner, holding a spatula, was already preparing to shout and drive him away when an old Santana slowed to a stop in front of him.

The window rolled down, and someone poked their head out. Wearing a pair of ugly, rustic black-rimmed glasses, they asked him in the local dialect, “Handsome, where to?”

Han Qingsu lifted his eyelids and gave him a cold look. Thinking it was someone trying to hit on him, he frowned impatiently.

“Fifteen yuan past the overpass, but a flat nine yuan otherwise—cheaper than a taxi.” The other party tapped the car door, also sounding impatient. “Are you getting in or not?”

Han Qingsu caught the gist of it and realized he had misunderstood. He looked at the beat-up car with some hesitation, but seeing a college student dragging three suitcases running toward them with glowing eyes, he decisively pulled open the door and sat inside. “Let’s go.”

The driver waited for two seconds, pointing at the suitcase outside. “Not yours?”

“It is.” Han Qingsu took out his phone to check something.

“…” Seeing that he had absolutely no intention of getting it himself, the driver accepted his fate, got out of the car, opened the trunk, and threw the dead-heavy suitcase inside.

“Where to?” The driver started the car.

Han Qingsu stared at the address on his phone screen with a frown and said, “Shuijiang Garden.”

“Okay.” The driver floored the gas pedal and switched to Mandarin. “Shuijiang Garden isn’t close; it’s almost at the outer ring. It’ll be over fifty yuan. Can you accept that, handsome?”

“Mm.” Han Qingsu swiped his phone impatiently. He saw a text message from Chu Jingyuan, stared at the red notification number for a long while, but ultimately didn’t click it. He decisively turned off the phone, tossed it aside, and closed his eyes.

The driver reached up to adjust the rearview mirror, catching sight of his sharp, gloomy features. A few buttons of the shirt were open, revealing a line of English letter tattoos on his collarbone. His lean waist was hidden beneath the black fabric, and even the folds in his trousers looked exceptionally elegant…

So provocative.

The gaze beneath the black-rimmed glasses lingered over him wantonly before pulling back to focus on the road ahead. The hands resting on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles turning a faint shade of white from the excessive force.

Though this illegal taxi looked like junk, the interior was clean and the smell was fresh. Han Qingsu slept the whole way until he felt someone gently tapping his shoulder.

“Handsome, we’ve reached Shuijiang Garden.”

Han Qingsu opened his eyes and met an unfamiliar face. The man was wearing a grey hoodie and light blue jeans. The black-rimmed glasses were incredibly ugly, though those eyes were decent enough to look at.

The other man handed the suitcase to him and asked, “Fifty-seven. Cash or scan?”

Han Qingsu tossed him a hundred-yuan bill. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” The man took it but didn’t leave.

Han Qingsu looked at him strangely. “Something else?”

The driver rubbed his pants seams somewhat awkwardly, looking at him cautiously. “Han-ge, is it you? Did you used to live in City A?”

Han Qingsu’s gaze shifted back from the old, broken neighborhood to him, his expression wary and laced with a hint of hesitation. “You are—”

The other man’s eyes lit up slightly. “It’s me, Han-ge. I’m Lin Muhan. Do you still remember me?”

Han Qingsu stared at him for a long time, his frown never relaxing. He searched through his memory for a while but couldn’t recall who the person was. He gave a perfunctory, “Oh.”

“…” Lin Muhan’s molars itched with a stinging ache, but the smile on his face didn’t fade. “You used to like calling me Xiao Han. Before I left, you even gave me three hundred thousand to help treat my grandfather. I’m really grateful to you, Han-ge. You’re our family’s lifesaver.”

“Ah.” Han Qingsu looked at those slightly moist eyes and remembered.

It must have been over ten years ago. He had just returned from abroad and was young and headstrong. While visiting A-University, he ran into a student on the roadside and took an interest. Since the other party was in desperate need of money, he kept him by his side. Unfortunately, the boy’s personality was dull and wooden, lacking any sense of charm. Fortunately, he was handsome, and since he wasn’t prissy, he was satisfying to sleep with. There was only one time when he had been a bit too rough; the boy’s dark eyes had stared at him fixedly through tears, leaving a particularly deep impression.

That day, he had worked the boy over so hard he couldn’t get out of bed for days. As it happened, he had set his sights on a new target, so he gave the boy some money and sent him away.

The whole thing had lasted less than three months.

Back then, Lin Muhan had just started university. At nineteen, he was at his greenest age. Now he looked like a grown man, having long since lost that awkwardness and woodenness, but he still looked plain when lost in a crowd—the type Han Qingsu wouldn’t look at twice.

Besides, his mood was currently terrible.

“Since your school was so good, why didn’t you stay in City A to develop your career?” Han Qingsu glanced at him again.

A top student from A-University shouldn’t have ended up driving an illegal taxi in a place like this, no matter what.

“Although my grandfather’s life was saved, someone had to take care of him. I didn’t continue my studies later and dropped out.” Lin Muhan smiled sheepishly. “I failed to live up to your expectations, Han-ge.”

Han Qingsu thought to himself, What the hell does that have to do with me? At most, they were brief bed-partners. He didn’t feel a shred of pity, only nodding perfunctorily. “It hasn’t been easy for you.”

Lin Muhan looked at him with a face full of gratitude. “Han-ge, if it’s convenient, can we exchange contact info?”

Seeing him about to pull out his phone, Han Qingsu felt a headache coming on. He cleared his throat and said, “Go about your business. Until next time.”

Lin Muhan tucked his half-pulled-out phone back in. He stepped forward and snatched the suitcase from Han Qingsu’s hand, smiling. “Then let me help you carry the suitcase up, Han-ge. My aunt lives here; there’s no elevator in the building.”

He looked at Han Qingsu eagerly. After all, this was someone he had slept with before; Han Qingsu simply nodded. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” Lin Muhan carried the suitcase upstairs with one hand, asking with a smile, “Han-ge, why did you come to Wucheng? This neighborhood is so old and remote. Why not stay at a hotel?”

He was surprisingly talkative. Han Qingsu was a bit annoyed, especially by being seen in such a pathetic state by this person. He said coldly, “Business.”

“Winter is coming soon, and there’s no heating in this building. How long are you planning to stay?” Lin Muhan asked.

Han Qingsu began to regret letting him carry the luggage, but he really didn’t want to do it himself. The suitcase was dead heavy; the veins on the back of Lin Muhan’s hands were bulging, but his arms were very steady. Looking closely, this kid seemed to have grown quite a bit taller; he used to be half a head shorter than him.

“We’ll see,” he answered perfunctorily.

Lin Muhan was also observant. Seeing that he wasn’t willing to talk more, he carried the suitcase to the top floor in one go. It was a two-unit-per-floor design. Shoes were placed in front of both doors. He turned to Han Qingsu. “Han-ge, which door?”

Han Qingsu glanced at his phone again. “601.”

He tossed the keys to Lin Muhan. Lin Muhan poked the key into the lock, twisted it a few times but couldn’t get it open, then looked back at him.

Just as Han Qingsu was about to speak, the door was suddenly opened from the inside. Someone asked in a gruff voice, “Who is it?!”

The person who came out was an old man leaning on a cane, with a temperamental Chihuahua at his feet barking furiously at Han Qingsu. From inside the room came the sound of a television and the thud of chopping vegetables. A woman in her early forties, holding a wailing baby, also came out. “Dad, who is it? You woke up Xiao Bao.”

She was originally full of irritation, but seeing Han Qingsu’s fierce appearance, she immediately stepped back half a pace, shielding the child in her arms. She asked in a low voice, “Who is this?”

Next, two ten-year-old twins ran out. The woman said, “Go back to the room and do your homework!”

“Mom, I’m hungry. I want beef jerky—”

“I want some too!”

“Go ask Grandma!” The woman coaxed the nursing infant in her arms while pushing the twins back inside.

“…Is this Shi Hong’s house?” Han Qingsu asked the old man.

“Yes.” The old man sized him up warily. “Shi Hong is my cousin. She’s been dead for over twenty years. What are you doing here?”

“I’m her grandson—” Han Qingsu got halfway through before he heard an old woman’s scolding voice coming from the house.

“If you’re divorced, you’re divorced, but you had to bring these three dead weights back home! Your father and I are in our seventies and eighties, and we still have to help you raise kids. Can you stop making us worry so much?!”

“Is it my choice to get divorced?! It’s that bastard who went out and found other women! I worked so hard to give him three children, and in the end, he didn’t want a single one!”

“Stop arguing!” The old man pounded his cane in anger, shouting into the house. “Day after day, is there no end to this?!”

The sounds of barking, crying, and violent scolding, wrapped in the greasy smell of cooking and dog hair, rushed toward Han Qingsu’s face. He took half a step back, stepped on a pair of old cloth shoes, and dodged away in disgust.

“You’re Shi Hong’s grandson?” The old man leaned in, a flash of panic crossing his face. “I’ve been looking after this house for her, saying we had to wait for her daughter to come back. Where’s your mother?”

Han Qingsu took another half-step back and felt a hand steadying his shoulder. He turned his head and met Lin Muhan’s cool, clear eyes.

“Han-ge?” Lin Muhan gripped his shoulder imperceptibly.

Han Qingsu had a splitting headache. He said to the old man, “It’s nothing. Carry on with your business.”

With that, he turned and went downstairs.

Lin Muhan followed with the suitcase and asked, “Han-ge, is that your grandmother’s house? Should I go up and talk to them—”

“No need.” Han Qingsu didn’t want to deal with those people. “Take me to the nearest hotel.”

“Okay.” Lin Muhan nodded and opened the car door for him.

Han Qingsu gave him another rare look and nodded politely. “Thanks.”

Lin Muhan smiled at him and closed the car door.

A distant yet familiar scent brushed past his nostrils. Lin Muhan gripped the handle tightly and took a greedy, obsessed breath.

It’s so good.

He has finally fallen into my hands.