Chapter 4#

The Ring#

After a week, Han Qingsu sat in that dilapidated little car again.

He was soaked through by the rain, and Lin Muhan helped him into the passenger seat. He pulled a towel from somewhere and scrubbed the rainwater off his face and hair with force. The intensity was so great that Han Qingsu knitted his brows and opened his eyes.

The young master, accustomed to being served, didn’t feel there was anything wrong with this, but dissatisfied with the lack of gentleness in his hands, he turned his head to avoid him.

Lin Muhan glanced at him coldly and leaned over to fasten his seatbelt.

Han Qingsu had drunk quite a bit of alcohol and was dressed too thinly for vanity; upon suddenly entering the warm space after being drenched by the rain, his temples throbbed with pain. When Lin Muhan leaned in close, he reached out and rested his hand on Lin Muhan’s shoulder, as if wanting to push him away, yet it felt more like an ambiguous, teasing caress. His cold fingers brushed against Lin Muhan’s cheek and pressed against the back of his neck, forcing him to lean in toward himself.

Han Qingsu had always been a good kisser.

He knew how to cater to the other person’s bashful retreat, and he knew how to appease the resistance and unease on the other side. His palm skillfully slid inside Lin Muhan’s damp sweater, stroking his spine with varying pressure.

After the initial stiffness, Lin Muhan neither responded nor refused. Watching him provoke others even while drunk—this asshole didn’t care at all who he was kissing, or perhaps he had mistaken him for someone else, like that Chu fellow.

Han Qingsu, dissatisfied with his indifference, bit his lip with a bit of force and whispered, “Angry, baby?”

Lin Muhan’s gaze deepened suddenly. He threw him back against the seat, snapped the seatbelt into the buckle, and slammed the car door shut with a bang.

Before Han Qingsu could react, the door was pulled open again with great force, and he was grabbed by the neck and kissed ferociously.

The rain outside intensified, and a chill seeped into the open car. Han Qingsu was on the verge of suffocation, half-drunk and half-sober, but he felt it was incredibly thrilling. The pent-up frustration he had been harboring for who knows how long seemed to have finally found an outlet. He responded fervently to the kiss, and in the narrow space, there was nothing left but the sound of ragged breathing and the friction of fabric.

He impatiently went to undo the other man’s belt, forcing him down on top of himself. In the chaos, he laughed and bit his ear: “…Jingyuan, so spicy, are you jealous?”

Bang!

‘Jingyuan’ grabbed his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back, his cold eyes burning with terrifying fury and desire.

Han Qingsu’s unfocused eyes gradually sharpened. In the dim light, he saw the man’s face clearly. He looked refined and cold, somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t recall his name for the moment. He curled his lips and smiled, “So fierce, baby.”

Perhaps it was because Lin Muhan was pinching him too hard, or perhaps he had drunk too much alcohol, but as soon as he finished speaking, he passed out cold.

Lin Muhan glanced at the ring on his middle finger, reached out, took it off, and tossed it carelessly behind him.

The expensive ring refracted the dim light, rolled a few times in the rainwater, and fell into the street gutter, disappearing completely from his view.

Lin Muhan stroked the collarbone Han Qingsu had rubbed raw, leaned down, and bit his earlobe affectionately, whispering lingeringly in his ear: “A piece of trash like you, only I would be willing to have you… how could you still be thinking of someone else?”

Han Qingsu let out a muffled groan as he was bitten.

Lin Muhan took a deep breath and closed the car door.

——

When Han Qingsu woke up, his head felt like it was splitting. The air was filled with the faint, unfamiliar scent of laundry detergent. In the darkness, he saw the silhouette of a desk lamp on the nightstand and fumbled to turn it on.

It was a small, cramped bedroom.

A white floor-to-ceiling wardrobe stood against the wall, the wooden floor looked mottled and old, and the quilt and sheets on the bed were as dowdy as products from the last century. On the south side was a narrow balcony housing an old-fashioned washing machine, and on the drying rack hung two cheap coats and a pair of underwear. Only the heavy, blackout curtains looked brand new, appearing completely out of place with the rest of the room.

His ears and collarbone ached faintly, and his stomach was churning with pain. He looked down and saw himself in a washed-out T-shirt and black baggy shorts—a style he would never wear if his life depended on it.

His memory of last night was a bit hazy; he seemed to have gone to a bar to seek pleasure and ran into Lin Muhan, but it also felt like he had been entangled with Chu Jingyuan… He rubbed his temples, got out of bed, and opened the door.

A fragrant aroma wafted into his nose.

The sound of the range hood couldn’t be blocked even by the walls. He saw his own leather shoes in the entryway, along with a few pairs of sneakers and an umbrella. The living room and dining room were pitifully small, but kept very clean. On the cabinet beside them was a black-and-white photograph; the old man in it was smiling kindly, and the incense in the burner in front of it was half-burned.

“Brother Han, are you up?” The kitchen door opened, and Lin Muhan walked out carrying two steaming bowls of noodles. He placed the bowls on the dining table and walked toward him.

“Still feeling uncomfortable? The floor is so cold, why didn’t you put on slippers?” As he spoke, he walked into the bedroom, took out slippers, and placed them at Han Qingsu’s feet.

The intense kiss in the car last night flickered through his mind intermittently. Han Qingsu froze for a moment before he was gripped by the ankle.

“Last night…” He stepped back half a step and put on the shoes himself.

Lin Muhan stood up and smiled at him: “Don’t worry, Brother Han. Nothing happened last night; you were just very drunk and vomiting. I really had no choice but to give you a shower and change your clothes. Don’t misunderstand.”

As for how long he held him in the water kissing him, or how long he touched him, there was no need to go into details.

Han Qingsu nodded awkwardly.

After all, they were both adults. Since the other party didn’t want to bring up the kiss, there was no need for him to mention it either. It was just a moment of drunken impulse where he mistook the man for Chu Jingyuan; besides, it wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before.

Lin Muhan went to wash his hands: “I wanted to send you back to the hotel last night, but the front desk said you had checked out, so I had to bring you home.”

“I moved to a different place.” Han Qingsu turned to look for his clothes: “Thank you for what happened yesterday. I’ll be going now.”

“You threw up all over yourself, and I washed your clothes; they aren’t dry yet.” Lin Muhan set the chopsticks and said with a helpless smile, “Brother Han, go wash up and have something to eat. After you eat, I’ll find you some clothes and take you back to the hotel.”

He was being so polite, and the bowl of noodles looked truly tempting, so Han Qingsu couldn’t refuse again.

While washing up, he stared at the hickey on his neck and the teeth marks on his earlobe in the mirror. He couldn’t quite remember the specific details, but he vaguely recalled that it felt intense. Ever since he decided to settle down and be good with Chu Jingyuan, he had been strict with himself and never strayed—only for Chu Jingyuan to cheat on him and then dump him… Fuck.

Han Qingsu cursed under his breath and cast these messy thoughts to the back of his mind.

Sitting at the dining table, he ate his noodles and couldn’t help but glance at Lin Muhan across from him.

The man didn’t quite fit his tastes; he liked them pretty, charming, slender, and delicate—the kind who could handle things, act coquettish, and bow down when necessary, both in bed and out.

But Lin Muhan was too refined and handsome. His gaze was cold when looking at others, dull in bed, and usually taciturn. Yet, he was proud to the core—stubborn, sharp-tongued, and wouldn’t beg for mercy. Sometimes Han Qingsu felt that if he stared at him, he might start a fight with him at any moment.

“Where’s your boyfriend? If he misunderstands that you brought me home, that wouldn’t be good.” Han Qingsu made small talk.

Lin Muhan took a sip of soup, picked up his phone to check it, and said, “He’s busy with work; he doesn’t live here.”

The reply sounded awkward. Lin Muhan didn’t deny that his boyfriend would misunderstand, yet he offered an excuse, making it seem like Han Qingsu really was having an affair with him.

Han Qingsu clicked his tongue inwardly.

Lin Muhan was wearing only a loose hoodie and sweatpants and finished his noodles quickly. Just then, a call came in. He walked toward the kitchen while holding his bowl and answered the phone, his voice clear and melodious.

“Hello… Yes, you want to charter a car for the day, right? It’s two hundred and forty here for the day… Okay, about what time are you departing… Where are you located, I’ll come pick you up… Okay, please pay attention to your phone, I’ll contact you then.”

After finishing the call, he washed the bowl and walked out to look at Han Qingsu.

Han Qingsu put down his chopsticks and said, “Go ahead, I’ll go back myself.”

“I’m really sorry, Brother Han.” Lin Muhan gave an apologetic smile. While grabbing his jacket, he casually grabbed a bread roll from a cabinet nearby, stuffed it into his pocket, and then took a set of keys from the entryway. “Lock the door later, and just put the key in the box under the water meter by the door… Oh, right, let me get you those clothes.”

He put on his coat and shoes, hurried into the bedroom, brought out a set of his own clothes, placed them on the sofa, and urged him, “No need to wash the bowls, just throw them in the sink. It’s cold, so wear something thick. There’s an umbrella by the door. Your clothes aren’t dry yet; I’ll bring them to you tonight. Brother Han, what’s your phone number? Let me save it.”

He spoke so quickly and was in such a hurry that Han Qingsu reflexively rattled off his phone number.

“Good, see you tonight, Brother Han.” Lin Muhan grabbed his car keys and rushed out the door.

Han Qingsu was still dazed, staring down at his noodles and eating a few more bites, only then realizing that he didn’t need the clothes and certainly didn’t need to give Lin Muhan his phone number.

He frowned at the bowl of noodle soup for a long while, attributing the matter to Lin Muhan’s rush to leave; he couldn’t be bothered to argue with him.

After finishing the noodles, he threw the bowl into the kitchen sink. The area was kept neat and meticulous, making the bowl and chopsticks he used stand out particularly prominently.

The young master paused for two seconds and resolutely turned to leave.

What did it have to do with him? He was eating it to give Lin Muhan face.

Lin Muhan’s build was about the same as his, and the clothes fit perfectly, though they looked a bit old. Fortunately, Lin Muhan kept them immaculately clean, smelling only of a faint soap scent.

He followed Lin Muhan’s instructions, locked the door, and threw the key into the box under the water meter before heading downstairs at a leisurely pace.

It was still raining. Han Qingsu had forgotten his umbrella, so he simply pulled his hood up and hailed a taxi by the side of the road in the rain.

Inside a white car directly opposite him, Lin Muhan watched his figure through the window, biting on a cigarette and squinting his eyes.

So disobedient.

The car started and followed him slowly, finally stopping below a hotel.

This kind of young master couldn’t take care of himself at all; falling to such a state that he still had to hail a taxi while living in the most expensive presidential suite—he was probably not far from sleeping on the streets.

He watched Han Qingsu head upstairs, smiled slightly, and patiently stared at the time on his phone.

Sure enough, half an hour later, Han Qingsu came downstairs with an ugly expression, looking anxiously at his empty middle finger from time to time, before hailing a taxi and leaving in a hurry.

Han Qingsu found the bar from last night.

“An engagement ring?”

“Yes, this ring is very important to me.” Han Qingsu said, “Please, pull the surveillance footage.”

The other party wasn’t very willing, but seeing Han Qingsu’s fierce and unapproachable demeanor, they eventually pulled the footage.

The footage showed that when he went out, the ring was still on his finger.

Then he was helped into an alley by Lin Muhan.

“There’s no camera coverage over there. Perhaps you can ask your friend.”

Han Qingsu frowned. He searched the side of that road for a long time but found nothing. He pulled out his phone to contact Lin Muhan, only to realize he didn’t have his contact information—he had only given Lin Muhan his number.

Han Qingsu returned to Lin Muhan’s place and searched carefully, but there was no sign of the ring at all. The only hope was that the ring had accidentally fallen into Lin Muhan’s car.

When he was drunk and kissing Lin Muhan so forgetfully, he had lost the engagement ring he shared with Chu Jingyuan.

Han Qingsu scratched his hair in frustration. Thinking that Chu Jingyuan was going to marry Qin Fu next month, he kicked the curb in a rage.

“Fuck!”

Regrettably, no matter how angry he was, it was to no avail.

He waited downstairs for Lin Muhan until nightfall without receiving a call. Just as he was about to get up and leave, a surprised voice sounded from above his head: “Brother Han?”

Han Qingsu was almost becoming triggered by this voice. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression vicious: “Why didn’t you call me?”

Lin Muhan was startled, retreating half a step with a bag of groceries, and said: “I wanted to go back and check if the clothes were dry first, then call you.”

Han Qingsu stood up, grabbed his arm, and started walking: “Where did you park the car?”

Lin Muhan followed his lead, his voice sounding uncertain: “Just by the roadside, why?”

“I lost my ring.” Han Qingsu knitted his brows: “It might be in your car.”

Lin Muhan bit his tongue hard, quickened his pace, and grabbed his wrist in return: “Don’t worry, Brother Han, I’ll help you look.”

Han Qingsu seemed to care so much about that piece of trash jewelry, Lin Muhan sneered internally. He watched from the side as he leaned into the car to search, exposing his slender, strong waist. One long leg remained outside while the other was bent and kneeling on the seat, his waistline tracing a smooth, beautiful line that looked incredibly alluring under the light—as if he were trying his hardest to seduce someone.

So begging to be fucked.

“Brother Han, look slowly, don’t rush.” Lin Muhan’s gaze licked over him inch by inch, leaning in close and crowding into the space with him.

Han Qingsu was taken aback by him pressing close. Just as he was about to turn his head, his hand slipped; Lin Muhan reached out and gripped his waist, leaning close to ask: “Are you okay?”

The unfamiliar, warm breath sprayed against his face. Han Qingsu frowned and was just about to stand up when Lin Muhan suddenly said: “Don’t move, I think I see it.”

“Where?” Han Qingsu turned in the direction of his gaze, his ear brushing against his lips, but he couldn’t react in time.

“Under the seat.” Lin Muhan pulled him up: “Let me get it.”

He stretched his arm out and, sure enough, pulled a ring from the ground. Han Qingsu let out a sigh of relief.

“Is this it?” Lin Muhan smiled.

Han Qingsu felt agitated and nodded after one look; the style and appearance were correct, it couldn’t be anyone else’s.

He had spent the entire day frantically searching for the missing ring, even waiting all night for Lin Muhan, but now that he had actually found it, he suddenly felt a sense of listlessness.

There was no need to recover this ring, and it wasn’t worth his energy and concern.

Fucking meaningless.

“You’re too careless.” Lin Muhan took advantage of his distraction and slid the ring onto his middle finger: “You must wear it properly from now on.”

Han Qingsu nodded impatiently, completely unaware that the ‘C&H’ engraved on the ring had already been changed to ‘L&H’ without his knowledge.

Lin Muhan smiled slightly, standing under the streetlight with his bag of groceries, his voice clear: “Brother, why don’t you stay for dinner before you go?”