Chapter 48: Slap Him in the Face

Chapter 48: Slap Him in the Face

"You'd rather see me dead, wouldn't you?"

That was Qi Xie's final statement.

The stark lighting accentuated the sharp contours of his face. His pronounced brow bone, combined with an icy gaze, seemed to pierce right through one's soul.

Ying Li was taken aback by the scathing remark. He stood rooted to the spot for a long while, and by the time he regained his composure, Qi Xie's figure was nowhere to be seen.

"I haven't..."

He never wished for Qi Xie to perish.

He would never harm anyone.

Even if he despised someone, he wouldn't wish for their death.

In a hallway bustling with people, Ying Li stood still, lost and bewildered. His face drained of color, droplets clung to his beautiful eyelashes, his tears poised to fall but holding back.

The light was blindingly bright, casting him momentarily back to his high school days when he moved from the countryside to the town. Accused of cheating due to his outstanding exam results, even the teacher left without granting him a chance to explain.

The weight of his backpack felt as if it weighed a ton, pressing heavily on his shoulders. It took Ying Li a few minutes to face reality before he bent down to search the trash can.

The trash hadn't been cleared out yet, still containing remnants from the previous day. Without even donning gloves, Ying Li sifted through the pile of refuse.

This was the sight that greeted Shen Yao when he came looking.

There was Ying Li, pitifully squatting on the ground, eyes redder than a rabbit's, frantically rummaging through the trash, drawing bewildered looks from passing staff.

With a furrowed brow, Shen Yao approached with purpose, "Ying Li, what are you doing?"

A tall shadow loomed over him, enveloping Ying Li. Hearing the familiar voice, he looked up, tears freely cascading down, marking their path on his pale cheeks. "I dropped something in there..."

Ying Li's face was a tear-streaked mess, with strands of hair sticking to his face due to sweat. The sight tugged at Shen Yao's heartstrings. He crouched down, clumsily wiping away Ying Li's tears, "What did you drop? Please, don't cry."

"Can I help you look for it?" Shen Yao, not skilled in comforting others and seeing someone cry intensely, could only join him in searching the trash can.

Half of the trash was scattered about. As he searched, Shen Yao inquired, "What are we looking for? What does it look like?"

"It's okay."

A muffled voice, still tinged with a hint of tears, emerged from beside him.

Shen Yao paused, staring at him, taken aback.

With reddened eyes, Ying Li reiterated, "No need to search anymore."

He had mostly regained his composure. He returned the trash to its bin and sniffled, "It wasn't something of great importance."

Even if he recovered Qi Xie, he wouldn't eat it again.

His act of rummaging through the trash made him look like a fool.

Noticing his unusual demeanor, Shen Yao frowned, "You cry like this over something unimportant?"

Ying Li, aware of his embarrassing state, raised his hand to wipe his tears with his sleeve, but Shen Yao quickly pulled out a tissue from his pocket, "Use this; it's clean."

Instead of using it, Ying Li held it in his hand and whispered, "Thank you."

Seeing Ying Li's dirt-covered hands, Shen Yao felt an overwhelming sense of distress, "They're covered in grime, go wash them."

Inside the restroom, Ying Li scrubbed his hands relentlessly. The delicate skin nearly raw from the friction, and if not for Shen Yao's intervention, he would have continued.

Shen Yao, holding back his tone, said, "Why exert so much force? They're all red now."

Fingers, delicate as onion shoots, wrinkled from water, hurriedly rinsed off the soap suds. Ying Li looked up, eyes glistening with tears, "Why did you come back?"

"I noticed you didn't follow, thought you got lost," Shen Yao replied, his tone tinged with frustration, but seeing Ying Li's teary eyes, it softened instantly, "What was so important that you had to go through the trash?"

Ying Li paused; besides Zhang Shaoling and himself, no one else knew of Qi Xie's long-standing illness and medication. Unable to explain, he felt a lump in his throat.

He shook his head and murmured, "It's nothing."

Shen Yao found Ying Li's behavior odd, wondering how he could downplay his evident distress.

In the lounge, Ying Li's mood remained gloomy. His face creased with worry, he greeted Song Jimo and then sat in a corner, head down, trying to blend into the background.

Song Jimo cast a fleeting glance, his gaze landing on Shen Yao, "Why are his eyes so red? Did you make him cry?"

Wrongly accused, Shen Yao felt numb, "It wasn't me!"

He couldn't bear seeing Ying Li cry; filled with concern, he'd never bring him to tears.

Song Jimo, arms crossed, posed a challenging question, "Then who was it?"

"It definitely wasn't me."

Shen Yao ran his fingers through his hair, recalling their swift departure earlier. Ying Li had tidied up in the car, telling them to proceed. Shen Yao hadn't noticed what had transpired. By the time he returned to look for Ying Li, he was already in this pitiable state.

Only Shen Yao and Song Jimo were present in the lounge; the whereabouts of the others remained unknown.

From a higher vantage, Song Jimo reached out to touch Ying Li's eyelashes, "Truly a little rabbit who loves to cry."

The thick, dark eyelashes fluttered, and Ying Li's cheeks visibly reddened in an instant. He whispered, "Don't call me that..."

His fair skin was already tinted pink from the tears, with damp lashes drooping gently. He looked more obedient than a rabbit, making others want to tease him more. How could one resist wanting to see him cry?

Song Jimo moved a stool to sit next to him, getting considerably close, "What's making you so sad? Is it about your sister?"

Ying Li sounded tired, "No..."

He felt wronged and couldn't help but cry. Why was everyone questioning him? Just as he was pondering an excuse, the door to the lounge suddenly swung open.

"Little brother Li, you've finally arrived. Here, play with this; a fan just gave it to me."

Xie Wen had been interacting with fans outside earlier. Upon entering, he immediately handed Ying Li a teddy bear wearing a tie.

"Where's brother Li? Where's brother Li?"

As Xie Wen handed it over, some button got pressed, and the toy started speaking. Ying Li was startled, "It talks?"

"It's a repeating toy, very popular online lately," Xie Wen informed him, "Press this, and it'll record your voice."

Ying Li pressed the button, and the toy repeated its lines. Such a curious little gadget immediately captured Ying Li's attention.

Another person entered at that moment. Ying Li glanced up and recognized it as Bian Qiao.

Dressed in a basketball uniform, Bian Qiao scanned the room, "Aren't you going to change?"

Ying Li was momentarily spellbound.

Basketball attire consists of a jersey and shorts, embodying youthful zest. It's typical attire for boys on the court. Ying Li's surprise wasn't due to Bian Qiao's good looks but the scars on his body.

Bian Qiao typically wore long sleeves and pants. His unexposed skin appeared even paler than most, resembling a piece of cold jade. Yet, the visible scars on his calves, the fresh pinkish marks climbing grotesquely over his alabaster skin, looked quite horrifying.

The scars resembled centipedes – twisted and ugly. Ying Li involuntarily felt goosebumps, his round eyes fixated on Bian Qiao's legs.

Bian Qiao glanced down at his legs and then approached Ying Li, "Scared you, didn't I? It's quite horrifying, isn't it?"

A gentle, rich voice swiftly brought Ying Li's thoughts back. He slowly shook his head, "No."

Only then did Ying Li realize how rude his gaze had been. He averted his eyes and instinctively apologized, "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize. Most people would be startled at first sight," Bian Qiao said, looking at him with curiosity. "Aren't you curious about how I got these scars?"

Ying Li remained silent, just pressing his lips together as he looked at him. While curiosity was a natural human trait, he didn't feel it was his place to ask about such a traumatic event from someone's past.

Lost in thought, Ying Li suddenly heard Bian Qiao recounting, "When I was in junior high, I visited a friend's house. We played hide and seek, and I hid in a closet. His grandmother, suffering from dementia, forgot to turn off the stove, leading to a fire that spread to the bedroom."

"I have a type of skin that scars easily," Bian Qiao said, expressionless. "Medical technology back then wasn't as advanced as today. Skin grafts weren't an option. So, this is how it's been."

Those grotesque, nauseating scars had been with him for over a decade.

Ying Li was taken aback, surprised that Bian Qiao would so candidly share such a painful memory. He covertly observed the reactions of others and noticed they weren't as shocked.

Indeed, Shen Yao had become accustomed to it. They had lived in shared accommodations during a talent show. On a few occasions, he had glimpsed the scars on Bian Qiao. But unless Bian Qiao spoke of them, Shen Yao never asked. Besides his penchant for cleanliness, Shen Yao suspected that Bian Qiao's habit of always being fully covered, regardless of the season, was partly due to the scars.

Ying Li briefly glanced at the scars on Bian Qiao's leg, quickly diverting his eyes afterward, looking like a timid deer, his bright eyes flickering.

It wasn't fear but overwhelming surprise that consumed Ying Li. He felt a need to react in some way, perhaps to offer words of comfort. Yet, it seemed too late for that.

"I have them on my hands as well," Bian Qiao added.

He stretched out his hand for Ying Li to see.

He wasn't wearing gloves today. His fingers were slender and graceful, with well-defined knuckles. Flesh-colored scars crisscrossed his hand, presenting a harrowing sight.

It was quite different from what Ying Li had imagined. The gloves Bian Qiao usually wore were leather and very stylish. Online clips highlighted these gloved hands. Ever since Ying Li had shared a video of "Number" on C-site, fans had been bombarding him with material, sending countless private messages. If the fans knew what lay beneath those gloves, they'd be heartbroken.

Ying Li couldn't resist reaching out to touch the uneven scars. With fluttering eyelashes, he whispered, "It must have hurt a lot."

"It didn't hurt. I was unconscious from smoke inhalation. But," Bian Qiao said, noticing Ying Li's slightly downturned lips and feeling a peculiar sensation in his heart, "changing the bandages was a bit painful."

"A bit painful?" Ying Li looked at him, lips slightly parted, clearly skeptical.

Soft fingertips gently grazed the scarred skin, moving as if fearing causing any pain. Ying Li's eyes, slightly glistening, intently gazed at him.

An unexpected sense of unease fluttered within Bian Qiao's heart.

So this is what a gentle touch feels like.

These unsightly scars aren't as shameful as they seem.

The scar on the back of his hand extended up to the inside of his upper arm. Ying Li touched it with utmost care, his motion lighter than a feather, barely grazing the skin.

Sometimes, being too empathetic wasn't a good thing for Ying Li. As he traced those scars, a sour feeling welled up in his heart, wondering how painful such extensive burns must have been.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he asked, "What about your friend?"

Bian Qiao replied, "He took his own life."

Ying Li's pupils sharply contracted.

"His injuries were far worse than mine," said Bian Qiao slowly. "The door was jammed. I passed out first. He could have escaped, but he came back for me, covering me with a drenched towel. The firefighters said he was found unconscious next to me, having taken no protective measures."

"Most of my scars are on my legs and back. Half of his face was ruined, and it didn't heal well. His facial muscles atrophied. He wore a mask every day, with classmates whispering about him behind his back. One evening, during night classes, he jumped from the school building's roof when the teacher wasn't looking," Bian Qiao said quietly, "I witnessed it all."

"From the sixth floor. It's astonishing how fragile human life is – gone in the blink of an eye."

Now, only the two of them remained in the resting room. Every word from Bian Qiao's lips was clear and distinct, resonating in Ying Li's ears.

Ying Li's mind went blank, his eyelashes dampening. As he involuntarily lowered his eyelids, a humming sound filled his ears, and he visualized the falling figure in his mind, his fingers trembling slightly.

Bian Qiao wasn't looking at him but at his own reflection in the mirror. Upon closer inspection, one could see the scar hidden deep beneath his collar, a scar he had concealed for eleven years.

He was an imperfect idol.

That's why he had always tried to hide his flaws, fearing that his fans might be disappointed and unable to accept him as he truly was. Yet, he yearned for the freedom to openly show his scars.

Although a lot of time had passed and Bian Qiao's tone was even, Ying Li felt he had once again brought up painful memories for him.

With a shaky voice, he murmured, "I'm sorry..."

Turning to face him, Bian Qiao said, "You apologize a lot."

And you cry easily.

Even other people's stories can move you to tears.

Ying Li pursed his lips, intending to say something when he suddenly remembered that Bian Qiao was particular about cleanliness. Having been so engrossed in their conversation, he had inadvertently rested his hand on Bian Qiao's forearm. Pulling away as if he'd been shocked, he hurriedly rummaged through his backpack. "I have wet wipes, do you want to wipe it off?"

"No need," Bian Qiao replied with a smile. "My obsession with cleanliness isn't as intense as people make it out to be. I'm just prone to allergies."

Ying Li inquired, "Then today..."

Playing basketball involves physical contact, making body collisions inevitable. Ying Li assumed Bian Qiao would decline to play.

Casually taking a seat beside him, Bian Qiao explained, "This is an important program for the station. I need to act like everyone else. I can't be an exception."

If he didn't participate, rumors might emerge the next day about team discord or him being a diva—pure fabrications.

Ying Li glanced again at the scar on Bian Qiao's hand, asking, "Can it be concealed?"

Bian Qiao responded, "No point. It'll just get exposed again once I start sweating."

Ying Li nodded in understanding, "Just be careful out there."

"I've said so much," a faint smile lingered on Bian Qiao's lips. "Do you find me annoying?"

Looking up abruptly, Ying Li was genuinely surprised by the amount Bian Qiao had shared with him.

He rarely interacted with Bian Qiao. Among the five of them, his interactions with Bian Qiao were the least frequent. Bian Qiao was reserved, seldom joining in when the others horsed around, let alone initiating conversations. He often seemed peripheral, easy to overlook unless specifically mentioned.

Gently shaking his head, Ying Li's soft bangs brushed his forehead as he sweetly responded, "Not at all."

Bian Qiao chuckled. He had been feeling somewhat vulnerable. By revealing his scars, he felt as though he had torn open a part of himself, laying bare his innermost feelings, exposing his most vulnerable spots.

He had feared that Ying Li would look at him with horror, but to his relief, Ying Li hadn't. It seemed to embolden him, giving him the courage to reveal more of himself in front of the camera.

The door to the lounge opened once more, and Qi Xie entered, his face as gloomy as ever. He walked directly past them, taking a seat on the sofa.

Occupying half the couch all to himself, he stretched out his long legs imperiously before him. His relaxed posture exuded an air of dominance, as if he was not to be trifled with.

Even in silence, his presence was overwhelmingly palpable, so much so that Ying Li found himself holding his breath, his grip on his backpack whitening his knuckles.

Noticing, Bian Qiao inquired, "What's wrong?"

Swallowing hard, Ying Li responded, "It's nothing."

Qi Xie's words from this morning kept gnawing at him, filling him with growing resentment. How could he insinuate that Ying Li wished for his death? Ying Li had never harbored such malice toward anyone.

Ying Li couldn't fathom the sudden shift in Qi Xie's demeanor—one moment demanding supervision, and the next, tossing the medicine into the trash.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, he felt the medicine again.

Qi Xie's medication was now with him, but whether Qi Xie had any extras left, Ying Li was unsure.

Feeling wholly unequipped for this task, Ying Li planned to speak with Zhang Shao Ling later. Whoever wanted to supervise could do so; he was done rummaging through trash cans.

The three of them sat in stifling silence. The awkwardness, though palpable, was short-lived as the rest of the team returned, and they were soon ushered to begin the recording.

The other group of guests, who debuted last year, was also a five-member band. Their good looks matched their counterparts, making the lineup quite a visual treat.

Ying Li donned the crew's distinctive yellow

vest,

standing off-camera. The assistant beside him handed him a handful of sunflower seeds, teasing as she noticed him focused on his phone, "Is your phone camera better than the professional ones on set?"

Ying Li offered a wry smile, mainly scrolling through the live comments.

The scars on Bian Qiao's body certainly caused quite a stir. Most comments expressed shock and sympathy. Ying Li reported the few negative comments that he came across.

The morning segment was brief, lasting just over an hour with a few fun games before wrapping up.

They were given a two-hour lunch break, during which they returned to their hotel for some rest.

Several times on the way to his room, Ying Li wanted to approach Qi Xie to return the medication, but Qi Xie ignored him, heightening Ying Li's frustration.

Ying Li sought out Zhang Shao Ling directly.

Zhang Shao Ling looked puzzled, "Why can't you supervise him?"

Standing erect with his backpack slung over his shoulders, Ying Li resembled a grade schooler about to tattle. He had prepared a litany of complaints against Qi Xie, but in the heat of the moment, found himself at a loss for words.

Struggling for the right words, he finally muttered, "He's uncooperative."

Zhang Shao Ling stroked his chin, reflecting. Qi Xie's defiance wasn't a new issue. He had hoped Ying Li would provide some assistance, but now even this aide wanted out. Zhang found himself in quite the predicament.

After a series of evasive replies, he responded vaguely like an uncommitted teacher, "I'll have a word with him."

Ying Li discerned the refusal in his words, "Mr. Zhang, I truly don't think I'm up for this..."

Zhang Shao Ling's expression shifted to sternness, cutting him off, "Ying Li, have you ever seen him in the throes of his affliction?"

Those crimson eyes strangling him, asking if he stuck out his tongue, performing a mockingly intimate check, licking him like a dog... would that be considered a bout?

Ying Li hesitated, his tension growing palpable, "No... No, I haven't."

"Good, because when he does, it's skin off his back," Zhang Shao Ling stated. "He can't skip his medication even for a day. Try to persuade him; he tends to listen to you."

Ying Li was perplexed. When had Qi Xie ever listened? He seemed deaf to words while bullying him.

In the end, Ying Li did not abandon his charge. With frustration brewing within, he returned to his room. Midway down the corridor, he paused, looking at the door number. He unzipped his bag, placing a protective talisman and the medicine by the door. The talisman was still crisp, not even warmed by his touch.

He knocked briefly and made a hasty retreat.

Lying in bed, Ying Li kept his eyes tightly shut, suppressing the urge to peek outside.

Qi Xie would surely see the items once he opened the door. Whatever he chose to do with them – keep or discard – wasn't Ying Li's concern, except for reminding him to take his medicine on time.

Ying Li reached for his phone, realizing something was amiss. He hadn't received a call all morning. After his harsh words the previous night, shouldn't Qi Xie be upset? Why hadn't his parents called?

He tossed around in bed, eventually giving in to impatience and dialed his father's number.

A hearty voice greeted him, "Hello, little Li! Have you eaten?"

Ying Li sat up, "I have. And you?"

His father replied, "Tao Tao just finished her chemotherapy, so we have to wait a bit longer for her meal."

After a brief pause, Ying Li asked, "Dad, is Dr. Qi still Tao Tao's primary physician?"

"Yes, Dr. Qi is incredibly compassionate. I heard from a nurse that he had planned to go abroad this year. He had everything arranged but decided against it at the last minute. Tao Tao is truly fortunate," his father sounded energized, "There's also something I forgot to mention. A leukemia foundation has chosen Tao Tao, willing to cover half of the medical expenses."

Ying Li exclaimed in surprise, "Really? Which foundation? Are they reliable?"

His father sent the foundation's details to Ying Li's phone, "This foundation has a longstanding reputation and has assisted many. Their representative visited this morning, discussing related matters. Tao Tao even made some new friends..."

On the other end of the phone, Mr. Ying excitedly relayed the day's events. Every update revolved around Ying Tao's illness, and it was all good news. Ying Li felt happy hearing it, yet an inexplicable heaviness weighed on his heart.

It was time for Mr. Ying to buy Ying Tao some food, so Ying Li hung up.

The vast room was eerily silent. Without the air conditioning on, it felt chilly. Ying Li curled up under his blanket, checking his phone. At that moment, he desperately wanted someone to talk to, but glancing through his contacts, it seemed there was no one to reach out to.

After some hesitation, Ying Li logged onto platform 'C' and started a live stream.

He never streamed at this hour, and there was no prior announcement, so only about a dozen viewers were present.

A few sporadic comments flitted across the screen.

[Did he hit the wrong button? Why is Li streaming in the middle of the day?]

[Maybe his account was hacked?]

"I didn't make a mistake, nor was my account compromised."

A voice as clear as spring water gently flowed into listeners' hearts.

The number of shares for the live stream skyrocketed, and in less than two minutes, the viewer count surpassed a thousand.

[OMG, it's really Li!]

[Li's profile has been inactive for several days. I've been checking platform 'C' daily. So glad to have caught this!]

[Li, you haven't streamed in so long! I've missed you!]

Ying Li glanced at the time. He hadn't updated for almost a week. Though he'd given his fans a heads up, he still felt a bit guilty.

"I've been incredibly busy recently. I apologize to everyone."

[Li, your personal matters come first. We don't mind waiting (and I don't mean to rush you).]

[Take your time and handle your business, Li. We'll always wait for you!]

Seeing the heartwarming messages, Ying Li smiled and said, "Thank you all."

[It feels off today. Li never streams at noon.]

[He sounds, well, less than cheerful.]

[What's wrong with Li? He doesn’t seem to be in high spirits.]

Is it that obvious?

Ying Li rarely discusses his personal affairs during live streams. However, today, for some reason, he felt the need to vent what was weighing on his heart.

After a moment of hesitation, he finally admitted, “I had a quarrel with a friend. Can you guys help me think of a way to mend things?”

A familiar ID popped up in the chat. -20 pinned a message, asking him: [Were you close?]

Ying Li was momentarily taken aback, surprised that -20 was online at this hour.

He reflected, “Not really close…”

-20: [How not really close?]

Ying Li: “Just regular friends. The usual kind.”

-20: [If they're just an average friend, why bother? What difference does one more or one less make?]

In a soft voice, Ying Li retorted, “Even ordinary friends are still friends. Shouldn’t misunderstandings be cleared up?”

He hadn't exactly had an argument with Qi Xie. Qi Xie had been the sole aggressor, and Ying Li hadn’t even been given a chance to explain.

-20: [Why did you two quarrel?]

“He seems to have misunderstood something about me…”

-20 pressed further: [What exactly? Clarify so we can help you figure things out.]

Skirting around some details, Ying Li gave an analogy, “It's like... he left something very important with me, and when I tried to return it, he suddenly didn’t want it back. He even thought I replaced the item... I swear I didn't.”

His tone was sincere. Fans could almost visualize his innocent expression through the screen.

[Who dares to misunderstand our precious Li!]

[If he doesn't want it, just throw it away. Hmph, let him fret a bit.]

-20: [Why are you so keen on returning it? Will he die without it? If not, let him suffer. He brought this upon himself.]

Taken aback by -20's string of messages, almost filling the screen, Ying Li responded wide-eyed, “Don't speak of him that way.”

-20: [Didn't you say he's just an ordinary friend? Now you can't even bear any criticism about him? You're really defending him.]

Ying Li felt that -20 was acting unusually today, and even the comments in the live stream noted the anomaly.

[Seems like -20's quite fired up today. Did he have chili powder or is he just jealous? Tsk tsk.]

[So much to say! Counting... over a hundred words. That's more than he's spoken in all the previous streams combined.]

[Someone's daring to confront you? Bold move! Li, you should mute him!]

-20 is typically reserved, often contributing just a comment or two during live streams, always polite and never emotional. Ying Li gently probed, “Are you feeling alright?”

-20's username flashed briefly: [Sorry.]

Clearly, he was indeed in a mood. Ying Li reassured, “It's okay.”

After a moment, -20 said: [You're too kind-hearted, which might tempt others to take advantage of you.]

Ying Li pressed his lips together, thinking, ‘Being kind-hearted is wrong now? If someone bullies me, isn’t it their fault?’

-20: [What do you want to do?]

Sounding a bit dejected, Ying Li confessed, “I want to explain to him, but he seems to be avoiding me. He doesn't want to hear my side. What should I do?”

Being misunderstood was truly unbearable. Even if he wasn't fond of Qi Xie, he felt the need to clarify things.

He kept his gaze intently on the screen, hoping for some guidance from his fans.

The chat refreshed rapidly, and Ying Li read through the messages.

-20 asked: [Are you angry?]

Ying Li honestly admitted, “I am quite upset.”

-20: [Then give him a slap.]

[Slap him until he listens.]

A note from the author:

Qi Xie: Self-reward.

Don't rush to judgments on the wild plot twist. I promise, I can make it all come together!

I've been so busy these past few days that I feel like I've turned into a husky! Yesterday, I was sunbathing by the river in almost 100°F heat, but the temperature dropped to the 30s°F in the mountains by evening. Everyone was dressed in shorts and tees, and one clueless leader, wearing a wool sweater, held a two-hour meeting. We were freezing! Daily rant about the boss!