Chapter 2#
Offerings to the Homophobic Straight Man: Crematorium 2#
Lin Jinbai stormed out, the early autumn night wind instantly wrapping around him with a chill, yet it couldn’t blow away the irritability in his heart.
He irritably tugged at his tie; the exquisite Windsor knot felt somewhat suffocating at this moment.
He didn’t understand why Qiao Qing had to cling so stubbornly to this one thing.
Like the past ten-plus years, accompanying each other and relying on each other—wasn’t that good enough?
Why did he have to use a specific label for their relationship and complicate everything?
“Stubborn! Truly bone-deep stubbornness!”
He cursed under his breath, seemingly speaking about Qiao Qing, yet also trying to convince himself.
He subconsciously took out his phone from his pocket. The screen lit up, showing a lock screen wallpaper of a photo of him and Qiao Qing from high school.
The background of the photo was the school’s sports field, with the red track and green grass vibrant in color.
In the center of the frame were two teenagers hugging each other, smiles on their faces.
On the left was Lin Jinbai, wearing a blue sports vest and shorts, his forehead damp with sweat, a few strands of hair sticking to his smooth forehead.
He was almost hanging off the person next to him, laughing until his eyes curved into crescents. The sunlight spilled over his face like a gilded edge.
And the boy next to him was Qiao Qing.
Back then, Qiao Qing was much more youthful than now, wearing a clean white short-sleeved school uniform.
He had been knocked slightly backward by Lin Jinbai’s pounce, but his arms were firmly wrapped around Lin Jinbai’s waist to prevent him from falling.
Most rarely of all, his lips, which were usually tightly pursed, were clearly turned up in a soft curve.
Lin Jinbai’s finger unconsciously brushed over the phone screen, and his own mouth couldn’t help but curl up along with his younger self in the photo.
He vaguely remembered that it was the high school sports meet in their second year.
To prove himself, he had ignored Qiao Qing’s objections and signed up for the five-thousand-meter race.
On the day of the competition, he ran until his soul almost left his body. The last two laps were sustained entirely by willpower; the back of his throat tasted entirely of rust, and his vision went dark in waves.
Just when he felt he would collapse onto the track the next second, a familiar figure suddenly burst into his blurred vision.
Qiao Qing, at some point, had stood right next to the finish line.
He still stood tall and straight, his face expressionless, but his tightly pursed lips and slightly clenched fists betrayed a hint of tension that was unusual for him.
At that moment, he didn’t know where the strength came from, but he gritted his teeth and desperately moved his leaden legs, charging towards the finish line.
The moment he crossed the finish line, all his strength was instantly drained. His legs went weak, and he fell forward uncontrollably—
He didn’t fall onto the track as expected; instead, he crashed solidly into an embrace that smelled of fresh soap.
A six-foot-tall young man sent Qiao Qing reeling, but he still caught him firmly.
He was practically slumped against Qiao Qing, his head resting on his shoulder, gasping for breath as sweat dripped down, soaking the other’s shoulder.
He was too exhausted to speak a word, only able to feel Qiao Qing’s arm around his back, supporting most of his weight.
While one was slumped and the other was supporting, in a posture that was extremely pathetic yet strangely harmonious.
A student from the school’s publicity department, carrying a camera, was quick-handed and captured the moment forever with a “click.”
Later, this photo was even published in the school newspaper and remains on the school’s official website in the collection of “Highlights of the Sports Meet” for that year.
The title was—“The Support of Friendship! The Victory of Youth!”.
Thinking of this, Lin Jinbai couldn’t help but let out a low laugh.
His finger unconsciously caressed Qiao Qing’s face on the screen, the cold touch of the screen seemingly evoking the warmth of the memory.
He froze for a moment, remembering the fierce argument just now and Qiao Qing’s bloodshot eyes; a sudden sting hit his heart.
He unlocked his phone and opened the contacts.
The first name pinned at the top was “Qiao Qing,” followed by a red symbol.
That was the emergency contact they had set for each other years ago.
Lin Jinbai’s finger hovered over the name for a moment before he finally swiped down, found Li Wenjie’s number, and dialed.
…
The lights in the bar were hazy and the music boisterous, yet they couldn’t dispel the low pressure surrounding Lin Jinbai.
Li Wenjie was a typical second-generation rich kid, idle but loyal.
After Lin Jinbai called him, he arrived quickly.
After listening to Lin Jinbai’s irritable and confused narration, Li Wenjie almost jumped up in shock, his voice rising:
“What?! You’re saying Qiao Qing confessed to you?!”
The gazes from several surrounding tables were instantly drawn over.
Lin Jinbai felt embarrassed and punched him, growling, “Keep your fucking voice down!”
Li Wenjie ducked his head, downed a drink to calm his nerves, and then leaned in closer, his tone filled with disbelief.
“Damn… I thought he was going to hold it in for the rest of his life.”
Lin Jinbai frowned: “Why aren’t you surprised at all?”
Li Wenjie looked at him as if he were looking at a monster.
“Qiao Qing’s feelings for you—even a blind person could see them, okay?”
“He’s been enshrining you like a grandfather every day, meticulous in everything. We all thought you knew long ago and were just playing dumb.”
“I…” Lin Jinbai was at a loss for words, saying sullenly, “I’ve always treated him as my best brother.”
“Brother?” Li Wenjie scoffed, swirling his glass.
“Anyway, I’ve never seen a ‘brother’ like that. Doing your laundry and cooking for you, living with you, playing with you, serving you like a lord.”
“Lin Jinbai, speak with your conscience—could you do that for your own biological brother?”
Lin Jinbai remained silent, only downing a large gulp of whiskey. The cold liquid slid down his throat but ignited a fire in his chest.
He repeated unwillingly, “I just don’t understand. Wasn’t it fine the way we were before? Why did he have to get hung up on this?”
“Great, now it’s out in the open, and we can’t even be brothers anymore!”
Li Wenjie sighed. Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, his words became direct.
“Jinbai, although I’m your friend, I really have to say something fair for Qiao Qing this time.”
“The man has been ‘serving’ you without complaint for over a decade. Even if there’s no merit, there’s the hard work, right?”
“Since you clearly don’t like him, yet want to continue enjoying his kindness in that ambiguous way like before, that’s too cruel to Qiao Qing. Isn’t that just stringing him along?”
He paused, carefully observing Lin Jinbai’s expression, and posed a sharp question.
“I’ll just ask you one thing.”
“If you reject Qiao Qing, and he gets disheartened and turns around to be with someone else—treating them as well as he treats you, even being intimately close with them—can you calmly accept that?”
“Clang!” The hand Lin Jinbai used to hold the glass suddenly tightened, his knuckles turning white, as the bottom of the glass hit the table with a crisp sound.
He looked up almost immediately, refuting in a hurried tone.
“Of course I couldn’t accept it! Two men being all lovey-dovey in front of me? Just thinking about it is disgusting; it gives me goosebumps!”
“You know I’m homophobic.”
His voice carried the agitation of being offended, but his eyes flickered for a moment.
Li Wenjie didn’t respond this time, just looking at him in silence.
Those eyes, somewhat hazy from alcohol, were exceptionally sharp at this moment, as if trying to pierce through Lin Jinbai’s facade of composure to see into the deepest part of his heart.
Lin Jinbai felt guilty under his gaze and subconsciously averted his eyes, staring at the swirling amber liquid in his glass.
A difficult stalemate hung in the air.
After a long time, Li Wenjie let out a barely audible sigh, seemingly out of helplessness or perhaps because he had seen through something.
At that moment, Lin Jinbai’s phone suddenly rang, breaking the suffocating silence.
The name flashing on the screen was exactly the one he had just had a fierce argument with and felt too complicated to face right now.
Qiao Qing.
Lin Jinbai looked at the name, his brow furrowed, a flash of hesitation and resistance on his face.
Li Wenjie tilted his chin: “Answer it. Is there anything about the two of you that I don’t already know?”
“Argue all you want, you can’t really just stop taking his calls.”
Lin Jinbai took a deep breath, pressed the answer button, and put the phone to his ear.
However, the voice that came from the other end was not Qiao Qing’s.
Instead, it was a hurried, unfamiliar female voice, accompanied by noisy background sounds.
“…Hello, is this Mr. Lin Jinbai?”
“This is the Emergency Department of Beijing First People’s Hospital. The owner of this phone, Mr. Qiao Qing, has been in a serious car accident and is currently being resuscitated. The situation is critical. We are notifying you based on his emergency contact information. Please come here immediately…”