Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 102

The air by the sea always seemed to be filled with a faint salty taste.

In the vast darkness of the room, the light that seeped in was initially dense white, gradually fading in concentric circles. It finally dispersed into elusive halos, swirling in front of the two people, one lying and one standing, by the bed.

The expressions of the two were hard to capture in the night. The only clarity was in the slender, upright silhouette, its lines tautening.

A gentle breeze stirred the soft curtains, floating up and down. From the bed, there was a slight rustling sound. It was Zhou Qian sitting up.

Moments later, he heard Bai Zhou say, “This issue, I never really thought about it before.”

Perhaps because they met when they were too young and spent almost every day together, high school-aged Bai Zhou always naturally assumed they would be together for life, under any name, regardless of how their relationship was defined.

It wasn’t until a separation of seven years, not anticipated by him, that certain questions rose to the surface, visible with just a bow of his head.

Zhou Qian, who disliked solitude and feared loneliness, always had a group of friends around him. So, was there someone whose relationship with him surpassed what they had in the past?

Or even, could it be possible he had previous romantic partners? If he suffered heartbreak, would he call friends to drink and cry with, then look forward with a smile the next day?

However, no matter how close he seemed with others, Zhou Qian probably didn’t invest much emotion. He liked liveliness and had enough charm to always have people around him that his surroundings were forever filled with noise and laughter.

At first glance, he seemed the worldliest, but upon closer inspection, he stood coldly detached from the world, never truly blending in. Too clear-headed, seeing people and things too clearly, he was always left without attachment. Who could hold on to such a person, and how?

Bai Zhou said slowly, “I never defined our relationship. I’ve long regarded you as the closest and most important person in my life—our relationship encompassing friends, brothers, classmates, and—”

Zhou Qian suddenly interrupted, “Zhou Ge, can you turn around?”

At that moment, Zhou Qian, having removed his trousers at some point, wore only a long white shirt. The collar was skewed, with the top three buttons undone. His right shoulder was mostly bare, leading to a straight collarbone that was partly bathed in deep light and shadow, with the rest hidden in the white shirt.

As Bai Zhou turned, Zhou Qian leaned back on the bed, his right foot resting on Bai Zhou’s left shoulder. In that instant, Bai Zhou’s gaze seemed briefly perplexed but soon returned to normal, the usual expression that tolerated any of Zhou Qian’s whims.

Yet, the lines of his shoulders, neck, and arms tensed visibly, his pupils deep and unfathomable.

Zhou Qian smiled, watching him, his toes twinkling with a light movement downwards, touching each button, and finally stopping.

The wind outside grew stronger, pushing the partially opened window wide. The curtains danced, casting ghostly silhouettes in the dim light. Zhou Qian looked up, seeing the wind lift Bai Zhou’s bangs, the dense shadows in his eyes almost tangible.

With a very satisfied smile, Zhou Qian said, “Alright. I’m clear now, about… 15%.”

Bai Zhou asked, “What 15%?”

Zhou Qian didn’t answer but asked, “Continuing our earlier topic. Does that relationship include—lovers?”

“Zhou Ge, you like me, don’t you?”

Zhou Qian first stared into Bai Zhou’s eyes, then glanced down significantly near his foot, wrapped in fabric.

“See, you don’t need to answer. I already know.”

Suddenly, Zhou Qian’s ankle was firmly grasped by a strong, broad hand. Twisting Zhou Qian’s leg to the left, Bai Zhou naturally wedged himself between his legs. With his right hand on Zhou Qian’s face, Bai Zhou leaned in touching their foreheads. He asked in a deep, hoarse voice, “Would you do this with someone else?”

“I told you; you never understood me. I don’t know what bad impressions I left you with as a child,” Zhou Qian said with a smile under Bai Zhou’s gaze. “But… well, maybe it’s down to 9% now.”

Bai Zhou didn’t speak or move. His hand on Zhou Qian’s leg seemed frozen. Turning his head, Zhou Qian whispered, “You can move your hand up. I’ll allow it.”

“Zhou Qian…” Bai Zhou’s voice was hoarse beyond recognition, but he made no move.

“Shh—”

After observing Bai Zhou for a while, Zhou Qian pushed him away and sat up on the bed. “How about you close your eyes?”

Bai Zhou did as told and asked, “What do you want to do?”

Zhou Qian replied, “Of course, turn the tables.”

Hearing this, Bai Zhou kept his eyes closed, waiting quietly, but Zhou Qian didn’t act.

Suddenly, Bai Zhou heard Zhou Qian say, “Zhou Ge, I think… I’m a bit excited.”

Zhou Qian’s excitement was truly of a spirited nature. Bai Zhou, sensing something, opened his eyes, but before he could ask, he saw Zhou Qian leap off the bed and head downstairs. His movements were fast and heavy, making the wooden stairs echo loudly.

Sensing something amiss, Bai Zhou didn’t follow immediately but ran to the window and saw Zhou Qian running out of the house towards the beach. Bai Zhou braced against the windowsill and jumped down.

Zhou Qian left the villa and ran towards the beach, then jumped into the sea, submerging half of his body. Hearing Bai Zhou calling his name from behind, he turned around, laughed, and threw handfuls of sand and mud at him.

“Zhou Ge, let’s swim. Who’s faster?”

Zhou Qian continued throwing sand while laughing. He seemed overly excited, as if he had become a lunatic.

Bai Zhou reached out to Zhou Qian. “Alright. I’ll play with you. But come a little closer. Don’t go too deep into the sea.”

Zhou Qian didn’t listen and dove into the salty sea water, swimming towards the distance.

Zhou Qian hadn’t expected to have an episode in the virtual world, possibly because of the special nature of Blue Harbor City and the long duration of his stay.

But now, he couldn’t care less. Without tranquilizers, every cell in his body was filled with joy and excitement, needing some way to vent.

In this sunless world, the seawater was too cold and the sea breeze too strong. Although Bai Zhou wanted to join Zhou Qian’s wildness, he quickly stepped forward, worried about him catching a cold, and picked him up. “Let’s go home to play.”

Now both of their white shirts were soaked through and stained with mud. Zhou Qian, very dissatisfied, easily broke free from Bai Zhou and fell straight into the sea.

Bai Zhou had to bend down and pick him up again, forcibly taking him back to the villa and directly to the bathroom.

Placing Zhou Qian in the bathtub, Bai Zhou turned on the shower, lifted the showerhead, and let the hot water flow out, washing the mud and sand off Zhou Qian’s clothes.

He stretched out his hand and touched Zhou Qian’s face, finding it warm. Bai Zhou turned to get a towel but was suddenly grabbed by Zhou Qian, who tried to stand and walk out. But the bathtub was too slippery, and he fell but was quickly caught by Bai Zhou again.

Zhou Qian knew he looked very disheveled—without pants, his shirt soaked and muddy, and his hair wet and messy.

In a critical situation, he would suppress his abnormal excitement with all his rationality and self-control. But now, he didn’t want to control himself. After all, only in front of Bai Zhou could he be so unrestrained.

Grasping Bai Zhou’s wet collar, Zhou Qian looked at him intently through his wet lashes, across the steam rising from the hot water.

“Zhou Ge, you asked me earlier if I was afraid of you. Are you afraid of me?” Zhou Qian said. “See, my madness isn’t cured yet.”

Bai Zhou picked up Zhou Qian and sat him back in the bathtub, then stepped in himself. Zhou Qian blinked at him, then raised his hand, curiously looking at it before biting down.

Bai Zhou quickly pulled away his hand to prevent him from hurting himself. Holding him again, Bai Zhou pulled him into his arms and comforted him, patting his back and pressing his head against his shoulder.

“Bite me.”

Zhou Qian opened his mouth, touched Bai Zhou’s shoulder with his teeth, and then let go, pressing his forehead against him, sounding a bit aggrieved. “I wanted to swim.”

Bai Zhou stroked Zhou Qian’s neck, pulling up his head to look at his face. Zhou Qian seemed restless, uneasy, and extremely uncomfortable.

Bai Zhou’s thumb slid down his forehead to his nose and lips. Seeing this, Zhou Qian tried to bite his finger, but Bai Zhou withdrew in time.

Zhou Qian, increasingly irritated, pushed Bai Zhou away, wanting to leave, probably still wanting to swim to vent. But as soon as he stood up, Bai Zhou pushed him back down, causing water to splash everywhere, covering the tiles with a layer of hot water.

Bai Zhou extended an arm, tightly restraining Zhou Qian. Zhou Qian struggled more and more fiercely.

Bai Zhou had to lift his face to see his eyes.

“Didn’t you ask me a question earlier?” Zhou Qian, feeling agitated, said, “Let’s talk about it later. If you won’t swim with me, let’s go running. You’d better let me go outside and run to vent the mess in my head. Otherwise, the consequences might be severe. Last time I burned the doctor’s uniform—”

Before Zhou Qian could finish speaking, Bai Zhou interrupted him. “Doctor? Another one of your gamblers?”

“Yeah.” Zhou Qian nodded, his consciousness already blurring as he clutched at Bai Zhou’s arm and rambled, “If he were here, he’d give me medicine or an injection, and I’d be fine. I’ve been in the virtual world too long this time—”

Staring into Bai Zhou’s beautiful eyes, Zhou Qian, not knowing why, suddenly reached up and hooked his neck, leaning forward for a kiss. But Bai Zhou didn’t move; he just gently stroked his face with his thumb again.

Zhou Qian, with widened eyes, tried to bite his finger, but Bai Zhou evaded again.

Zhou Qian was extremely frustrated when he suddenly heard Bai Zhou ask, “Zhou Qian.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve always been in my heart.”

“Okay. I know.”

“And you?”

“What?”

Zhou Qian felt his temples throbbing and his ears buzzing, barely hearing what Bai Zhou was saying.

“The me you see now, and the entire Blue Harbor City, might all be an illusion. My real appearance might be completely different from what you imagine.”

Bai Zhou asked him, “Are you afraid?”

Hot water poured down over them, filling the entire bathroom with steam. In Bai Zhou’s mind, he recalled the words spoken by the fake Zhou Qian in the corridor of the Saiya Hotel—

“You’re not a good person at all.”

“You drew me into this game. I genuinely hate you.”

“You are a complete monster.”

“I curse you and Zhou Qian to hell together!”

So, what answer would the real Zhou Qian give him now?

“I’m not afraid of anything, Zhou Ge. No matter what you become, I won’t be afraid.”

Zhou Qian’s voice, clear and strong, echoed in Bai Zhou’s ears through the mist. “I received news of your death. After that, what do you think I could still be afraid of? I’m not afraid of anything anymore.”

“Zhou Qian, you can’t regret it.”

“I’ve never done anything I regretted in my life.”

For a moment, no one spoke, and only the sound of water remained in the bathroom. The bathtub was full, overflowing from their waists.

Bai Zhou’s hand, placed behind Zhou Qian’s head, slowly moved forward. He pressed his lips three times.

Zhou Qian, lingering on the warmth of the thumb, opened his mouth to bite it again, but Bai Zhou evaded once more.

“Zhou—”

Zhou Qian swallowed the words he was about to say.

Bai Zhou leaned in and kissed him.

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