Chapter 7#

Rebellion#

Stepping into this dilapidated little house once again, Han Qingsu felt a complex mix of emotions.

However, Lin Muhan had kept the place very clean, which to a large extent alleviated his internal resistance. Even so, the young Master Han still felt a bit disgusted. But having waited for Lin Muhan all day, his emotions had risen and fallen so drastically that, upon sinking into the sofa, he felt unexpectedly comfortable, his demeanor weary.

“Brother, what do you want for dinner? I’ll make it for you,” Lin Muhan asked him.

“Whatever,” Han Qingsu replied.

Lin Muhan didn’t speak further and went into the kitchen, busy with something. Han Qingsu closed his eyes to rest for a moment; when no reply came, the young master engaged in an unprecedented second of self-reflection before drifting off into a drowsy sleep.

When Lin Muhan finished making dinner and came out, he saw Han Qingsu asleep on the sofa. The previously fierce brows and eyes now looked weary. His hair, dampened by the rain, clung to his forehead, and his clothes were wrinkled. He looked like a drenched, large dog, helplessly curled up on the sofa of a stranger’s house, yet still inherently arrogant, never having learned how to wag its tail for its owner.

How pathetic.

But what right did he have to sleep so comfortably?

Lin Muhan set the food down, walked over, and patted his shoulder, saying in a low voice, “Brother, eat before you sleep.”

Han Qingsu frowned, opened his eyes to look at him, his eyes bloodshot. He paused for a moment before nodding.

Lin Muhan had only stir-fried a vegetable dish, which was clearly not enough for two grown men. It was the most meager meal Han Qingsu had ever eaten; he could only bury his head and eat the rice.

“Do you want to drink?” Lin Muhan asked.

Han Qingsu said, “Aren’t you driving tonight?”

“Staying home to keep you company tonight.” Lin Muhan said this naturally, getting up to retrieve a few bottles of alcohol from the fridge. “This is all that’s left in the house.”

These bottles were high-proof. Han Qingsu hadn’t intended to drink at first, but after struggling through half a bowl of rice, he found it too hard to swallow. Seeing Lin Muhan drinking unhurriedly, he suddenly said, “Pour me a glass too.”

He rarely drank after a meal, but at least it made his stomach feel less uncomfortable.

The two clinked glasses in silence. A bottle was soon bottomed out, and Lin Muhan opened a second one.

“Why aren’t you asking me what happened?” Han Qingsu wasn’t quite drunk yet; his alcohol tolerance had always been good, but he wanted to talk.

“Everyone has things they don’t want to talk about.” Lin Muhan looked up at him.

Han Qingsu let out a laugh: “That’s why you’re boring. If it were someone else, they’d have been clinging to me, acting spoiled while comforting me. You can’t even bring yourself to say a soft word to me.”

Lin Muhan was silent, drinking another glass.

Seeing this, Han Qingsu downed his as well. The sharp, spicy sensation rushed straight to his throat. He stared as Lin Muhan refilled his glass and said, “My family went bankrupt.”

Lin Muhan’s hand froze mid-pour, then he set the bottle down as if nothing had happened and said, “Mm, guessed as much.”

Han Qingsu raised an eyebrow: “Easy to guess?”

“I picked you up at the bus station,” Lin Muhan said. “That old residential area was dilapidated beyond belief… and you couldn’t even pull together seventy thousand yuan. Was it hard to guess?”

Han Qingsu held his glass and laughed: “Almost forgot, you’re very smart. An A-University top student, a provincial top scorer.”

Lin Muhan didn’t react, saying, “You didn’t even remember my name.”

“It’s been too long.” Han Qingsu looked at him with a smile, his tone flirtatious. “Still angry? Xiao Han?”

“Don’t call me that.” Lin Muhan’s hand tightened around the bottle; he looked up at him. “I’m afraid I’ll smash the bottle on your head.”

Han Qingsu laughed until he couldn’t straighten up. Only when he was done laughing did he reach out to take the bottle from his hand and pour him some wine: “That sounds like something you’d do.”

Lin Muhan stared at him, not speaking.

“I’m only staying for a few days. Once I figure out how to get money, I’ll move out,” Han Qingsu sighed. “You have a boyfriend now; me staying here doesn’t look right.”

“Broken up,” Lin Muhan said.

Han Qingsu choked. He squeezed his brow hard and said, “Xiao Han, I don’t eat grass I’ve already grazed on. We’ve discussed this before; it was only three months… I don’t intend for anything to happen between us now. I’m a mess. I’m very grateful for your help, but we aren’t compatible.”

Lin Muhan asked: “Why aren’t we compatible?”

Han Qingsu frowned, meeting his stubborn gaze, and said, “You damn well don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Lin Muhan was noncommittal: “And you? Do you have a fiancée?”

Han Qingsu choked. The incident involving him and Chu Jingyuan had caused such a stir it was no longer news; one could find out with a single search on a phone. When he had lied, he hadn’t expected to ever see Lin Muhan again.

The two didn’t know how many bottles they had finished.

Perhaps it was the alcohol going to his head, or perhaps it was because he had been miserable for too long with no one to confide in, but he started telling Lin Muhan about what had happened to him.

“…My father died accidentally, my younger brother took over the company, and the Qin family colluded with others to bring down the Han family,” Han Qingsu said. “That bastard Qin Fu had been planning this for a long time. I treated him like my own brother… turns out Chu Jingyuan was the mole he planted…”

“I loved him so much. I thought he was the one I’d been looking for,” Han Qingsu said drunkenly. “He was so beautiful, gentle and considerate in nature, highly educated, smart, came from a clean family, had basically no romantic history, and a simple social circle… But he was skilled. My family approved of him a lot… At first, I only let him manage a portion of the assets, but then problems arose. I was too lazy to deal with it, and Qin Fu stepped in saying he could help, so I gave it all to him and Han Qingran… Now that I think about it, the whole damn thing was a trap set for me…”

“Fuck,” Han Qingsu took a deep breath, laughing at himself mockingly. “Wife gone, money gone. I’m such a damn coward.”

Lin Muhan asked: “Did you like him a lot?”

“Of course I liked him.” Han Qingsu downed another drink. “I liked every one of my boyfriends, otherwise why would I date them… He was just so right, you know? Regardless of his face, his body, or his character and background, he was exactly what I needed. The most perfect marriage candidate. The day I brought him home, my parents were overjoyed, and my brother didn’t argue with me either… I thought to myself then, it had to be him… Anyway, he was so good at serving in bed… just perfectly perfect, so perfect it didn’t feel like he was a real person…”

He was drunk, and his speech was disjointed.

Lin Muhan gave a cold laugh: “If he weren’t perfect, how could you have fallen for the trap?”

It was a pity there was no such thing as a perfect person in the world, only fools spinning around in illusions and lies.

Han Qingsu looked at him with blurred, drunken eyes and laughed, his fierce brows and eyes softening with a decadent gentleness: “Am I really that stupid? You must be cursing me in your heart.”

Lin Muhan twitched his lips, stood up, and pulled him up from the chair: “Brother, you’re drunk.”

“Don’t call me Brother.” Han Qingsu leaned against him, frowning. “Every time you call me that… I think of Han Qingran… it’s so fucked up.”

Lin Muhan asked: “Then what should I call you?”

“Just call me Su-ge,” Han Qingsu hooked his neck, tilted his head, and kissed his ear. “You can call me baby, too.”

One second he was acting all righteous, saying he wouldn’t eat past grass and that it couldn’t work, feigning unchanging deep affection for that Chu Jingyuan; the next, he was kissing and teasing without the slightest burden, pressing someone from the sofa all the way to the bed.

A dog of a thing asking to be fucked.

Lin Muhan, of course, wouldn’t refuse. Why would he refuse? Han Qingsu wasn’t drunk from these few bottles—at least his lower half wasn’t drunk, impatiently wanting to rekindle an old flame.

This played right into Lin Muhan’s hands, though it diverged somewhat from the rekindling Han Qingsu wanted.

When Han Qingsu was pressed onto the bed, he laughed, flirtatious and dissolute, kissed his chin, and said, “Are you doing it yourself, baby?”

Although drunk, it didn’t stop him from remembering their good times together—the then-green Lin Muhan’s restrained and suppressed breathing, eyes fixed on him while brimming with tears. That cold, beautiful face made him love him to the extreme. He had already confessed everything to Lin Muhan, and it was the other who had insisted on coming over… then he couldn’t blame him for being rude.

Lin Muhan pulled a necktie from the bedside drawer, tightly bound his wrists, and tied them to the headboard.

Han Qingsu took it in stride, laughing: “You’ve grown, little brother. You’ve played quite wildly over the years.”

In the past, if he had wanted to tie Lin Muhan up, the kid would have absolutely exploded, let alone let him do it willingly… Han Qingsu was just soaking in the somewhat desolate memories of the past and the exciting scene of the present, when Lin Muhan pressed down, and he realized too late that something was wrong. His drunkenness vanished by more than half: “Fuck—what the hell are you doing?!”

Lin Muhan grabbed his throat, his gaze gloomy: “Obviously, fucking you.”

“Wait, you’re fucking crazy!” Han Qingsu struggled violently, shouting angrily, “I’m the one who stays on top!”

“I’m the only one who stays on top, too.” He had drunk quite a bit, and was tied up, so Lin Muhan admired the way he struggled and laughed, “Brother, I said it before, I only love you. We’ll be married sooner or later.”

Han Qingsu’s expression changed, and he roared furiously: “Let me go! Lin Muhan!”

“Why are you acting so innocent?” Lin Muhan nearly let him break free, pinning his wrists down and pressing his weight on top. “You came home with me, kept kissing and teasing me—wasn’t that just because you wanted to fuck?”

“That still means you should be underneath!” Han Qingsu tried to coax him. “Baby, stop messing around. I used to be a bit reckless, but now—mmph!”

Lin Muhan pinched his chin and kissed him, affectionately biting the tattoo on his collarbone, and whispered with a laugh: “If you dare run, I’ll cripple you, and then peel this skin of yours right off… Brother, Brother, doesn’t that sound good?”

Han Qingsu had been struggling and resisting at first, but this bastard Lin Muhan was terrifyingly strong, and his mental state didn’t seem quite normal. He was startled by Lin Muhan’s eerie tone, and it was in that very instant that he missed his chance. He felt pain so sharp the veins on his forehead bulged, and he cursed: “Lin Muhan! Fuck your grandfather!”

Lin Muhan smiled slightly and kissed the tears of pain from the corners of his eyes: “Brother, you’ll like it.”

Han Qingsu stared at him, and his expression suddenly changed.

Lin Muhan’s smile deepened: “It’s here, isn’t it?”

…

The light from the ceiling gradually became blurry and humid. The heavy black curtains masked the sound of the rain lashing outside. The tie on the headboard was untied at some point, leaving only dark red marks behind. Through the hazy, not-quite-clear state of intoxication, they entangled into an inextricable, chaotic knot.

Beyond that strange and unfamiliar pleasure, Han Qingsu only saw Lin Muhan’s gloomy, cold eyes—still fixed on him, suffused with a gorgeous red, like a fire being lit, carrying an unconcealable hatred, wanting to burn him into ashes.

Yet, it was soul-stirring, and impossible to turn away from.