Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Fang Bingxue finally looked satisfied.

He slowly retreated, openly scrutinizing Zhou Xu with a gaze that swept from head to toe and back again. Honestly, it was quite rude—if this were the Northeast, someone would surely have retorted, "What are you looking at?" and perhaps even squared up for a fight.

But Zhou Xu remained unfazed.

Ever since Fang Bingxue had pressed forward, forcing him to retreat step by step, his gaze had grown somewhat evasive. As their bodies neared contact and Fang Bingxue leaned in, his short, dense eyelashes fluttered rapidly.

Then, Zhou Xu turned his head away, no longer looking at the other man.

And so, he missed the look in Fang Bingxue's eyes.

"Alright," Zhou Xu cleared his throat, his face stern. "I'll take you to find someone."

He just wanted to drop him off at the front desk and be done with it; he couldn't handle this kind of drunk.

But the drunk remained rooted to the spot, chin lifted, an expression of defiance on his face.

Zhou Xu's patience was wearing thin. "What exactly do you want?"

When Fang Bingxue spoke, his throat still felt like it was burning, his words unconsciously softening and slowing, almost like a whimper: "Tried to use the restroom… but failed."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Zhou Xu reached out abruptly, grabbing the other's forearm. "Let's go."

Caught off guard, Fang Bingxue stumbled forward several steps. His legs felt like jelly, his body nearly losing control as he felt like he was being carried on a speeding motorcycle. A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, and Fang Bingxue struggled to pull away. "S-Slow down—"

"It's just around the corner," Zhou Xu said without looking back. "Did you go to the wrong place earlier?"

Fang Bingxue continued to protest, "Wait a second—"

But Zhou Xu refused to turn around.

His shoulders were truly broad, his hands large, gripping Fang Bingxue's wrist without question, holding it tightly, completely encircling it, his thumb easily meeting his middle finger. Fang Bingxue stared at that vise-like hand, thinking, *Zhou Xu's palm circumference must be about 28 centimeters. Based on that, his height…*

But he couldn't continue the thought.

The strong aftereffect of the grain alcohol surged violently. Fang Bingxue frowned, raising his voice: "I told you to stop!"

Zhou Xu finally halted, releasing his grip. "We're here."

The restaurant's restroom was tiny, its worn wooden door half-open, the latch inside dangling lifelessly. Zhou Xu even had the nerve to joke, "Don't fall asleep in there…"

He stopped smiling.

Because Fang Bingxue suddenly turned around, looking miserable, and vomited.

As if disgusted with himself, he groaned and whimpered between heaves, muttering about how dirty it was, how incredibly filthy!

His hands clutched Zhou Xu's collar, as if he had found the only reliable anchor in this chaotic environment—healthy and vibrant, full of life. His legs gave out, unable to support his body. Tears welled up in Fang Bingxue's eyes from the strain, his face pale.

Zhou Xu's jaw was clenched tight, his expression grim.

He pressed a hand against Fang Bingxue's forehead, pushing him away, but with that single motion, the other seemed to lose all bone structure, nearly collapsing to the floor. Zhou Xu swiftly reached out, grabbing his collar. "Stand straight!"

A cleaner had already heard the commotion and approached with a mop, looking unfazed. "Don't make a mess everywhere."

Zhou Xu's clothes were stained, but Fang Bingxue was even worse off, almost impossible to touch. Hearing the voice, he turned with difficulty, fumbled in his pocket, found a bill, and handed it over. "Sorry…"

The cleaner, an older woman, chuckled. "Oh, no need, no need! You two go clean yourselves up!"

At the same time, Fang Bingxue's phone rang. Zhou Xu, fed up, roared, "Answer it! Get someone to pick you up!"

As he yelled, he pulled out tissues, roughly wiping Fang Bingxue's face. He looked utterly disheveled—his face streaked with tears, his bangs stuck to his skin. Zhou Xu's method was so rough, practically scrubbing his face, that Fang Bingxue's head wobbled several times.

The phone was out, but the drunk's hands were unsteady, failing to open the flip phone after several tries. Zhou Xu snatched it, thumbing open the folding screen before shoving it in front of him.

Seeing "Xiao Li" on the display, Fang Bingxue froze.

In his haze, he wondered—*Is today a workday? Was drinking allowed by regulations? Did I report it?*

Zhou Xu, of course, knew none of this. He only noticed the sudden silence beside him and cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"Xuebing, where are you?" Xiao Li's voice came through. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Fang Bingxue was still breathing heavily. "I drank too much and have a headache, so I left early… Sorry."

The voice on the other end chuckled. "Ah, I told you that liquor was strong, but they kept egging you on. How did you get back? Did someone take you?"

Fang Bingxue didn't hesitate. "Yes, someone took me, don't worry… Ow!"

Xiao Li let out a surprised "Huh?" "What's wrong?"

Nothing much—just Zhou Xu, after wiping his face, had rudely pinched his nose with a tissue, probably a bit too hard.

"Are you really okay?"

"Yes, don't worry."

After finally getting off the phone, Fang Bingxue reverted to his sluggish, dazed state. Zhou Xu also made a quick call, then tossed the used tissues onto the floor, saying something to the cleaner that made her beam and nod, saying it was "no problem."

Just then, Fang Bingxue leaned in again, staring intently at him.

Two seconds later, Zhou Xu pressed a hand to his forehead, pushing him back. "Stay away from me."

The man was probably still a bit drunk, his skin felt feverish, but he insisted on moving forward, pressing against Zhou Xu's palm before suddenly smiling.

The smile made Zhou Xu's skin crawl. He instantly pulled his hand away.

"Brother Xu," Fang Bingxue said with a smile, "where are you going to change clothes? Can I come with you?"

Zhou Xu turned and walked away quickly.

Fang Bingxue followed, keeping his head down and covering his face as they passed the corner, as if ashamed of his disheveled, dirty state.

At the stairwell, Zhou Xu stopped abruptly. The other man, not watching where he was going, crashed into his back and froze.

Zhou Xu's face darkened. "Who are you? Did I tell you to follow me?"

"I can't help it," Fang Bingxue rasped. "I feel like throwing up again. Hurry up."

Zhou Xu: "…"

He completely lost his temper, resignedly leading the man up to the third floor—this place was owned by a friend, and business was booming. Tonight, an acquaintance from the police bureau named Old Yan had asked him to reserve a private room. Zhou Xu happened to be nearby on an errand and thought he'd drop by for a quick drink.

Instead, he got stuck with this nuisance.

The third floor housed the guest rooms, a row of small rooms with red wooden doors. Zhou Xu took the key from the attendant, and the moment he opened the door, Fang Bingxue bolted inside, rushing straight into the restroom to continue vomiting.

Zhou Xu took off his shirt, frowning as he inspected it.

His situation was slightly better; only his cuffs and shoes were soiled, not as much of a mess as the other guy.

From inside the bathroom came whimpering, still wailing, "I'm so filthy, I don't smell good anymore."

Zhou Xu was speechless. Shirtless, he walked over and leaned against the bathroom doorframe. "Are you done?"

Fang Bingxue was bent over the toilet, gripping the seat, coughing so hard his shoulders shook. Perhaps truly disgusted with himself, he had turned on the exhaust fan and kept hitting the flush button between heaves.

After a long pause, Fang Bingxue pulled out a tissue to wipe his face, then went to the sink to wash up before turning back. "…Done."

He had vomited too violently—broken capillaries showed on his cheeks, making the corners of his eyes appear especially red, his lips still wet.

Zhou Xu sneered. "Weren't you quite something earlier?"

Fang Bingxue shook his head.

Zhou Xu couldn’t stand this moping and waved him off. "You go out first. I'll leave after a quick shower. Your room is ready."

Seeing how drunk the other man was, he doubted Fang Bingxue would make it home smoothly tonight.

Fang Bingxue mumbled a quiet "Oh" and stepped aside. He had barely taken two steps out when the bathroom door slammed shut behind him with a loud "bang."

And the sound of the shower instantly began.

After throwing up all the alcohol, Fang Bingxue's mind cleared slightly—only to go rigid as he suddenly realized something crucial.

He hadn't used the toilet yet!

"Zhou Xu!"

Fang Bingxue pounded on the bathroom door. "Don't shower yet! I need to use the toilet!"

"Are you crazy? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Amid the rushing water, the man’s roar was barely audible. "Hold it in!"

Fang Bingxue was completely sober now. Everything had spiraled from his damn need to use the toilet, and he gritted his teeth. "How much longer will you be? If not, I'll go find…"

"Go wherever the hell you want!"

Great. Fang Bingxue sucked in a sharp breath and cursed under his breath.

He no longer cared about his filthy clothes and turned to leave. Just as he grabbed the doorknob, a loud sound came from behind him.

Zhou Xu had kicked the bathroom door open.

The shower was still running as he hastily wrapped a white towel around his waist, his face terrifyingly dark. "Get over here!"

At this point, he was past caring about dignity. Fang Bingxue slumped back, his face blank.

Zhou Xu didn’t move aside, instead crossing his arms and sizing him up.

Fang Bingxue took a deep breath. "Move."

"Earlier, you blocked me in the hallway just like this," Zhou Xu raised an eyebrow. "Was it because I slapped you by the river that time, so you’re seizing the chance for revenge?"

Fang Bingxue pressed his lips tightly, forcing out through his throat, "We'll talk later—"

"Let's talk now," Zhou Xu drawled lazily, a hint of roguishness in his smile. "Was it intentional?"

He wasn’t trying to bully the other man—it was just that tonight had been truly frustrating. Getting stopped out of nowhere, vomited on, and now having to ask a friend for spare clothes—he needed to vent his frustration somehow.

"Zhou Xu," Fang Bingxue said calmly, "if you don't let me in soon, and you keep wasting time, I might end up pissing on you."

Zhou Xu paused. "What?"

The moment the words left his mouth, realization struck. His entire face flushed red at a visible speed. "You—What are you saying?!"

Fang Bingxue looked at him. "I said, if you keep blocking me like this, I'll make a mess on you, and you'll have to clean it up."

Zhou Xu was stunned, rendered speechless.

His body reacted first—

He obediently stepped aside, making way for the other man.

Then he walked to the bed, sat down, and vigorously rubbed his face.

How to put it? Fang Bingxue was good-looking—refined and elegant, with rosy lips and white teeth. That kind of appearance easily gave the illusion of being easily flustered. In reality, aside from that initial fleeting glimpse of hostility, Zhou Xu had always thought the man seemed shy, like an intellectual.

How could someone like that say such things so brazenly?

Shameless!

When Fang Bingxue had leaned in earlier, Zhou Xu hadn't bothered to actually smell him, just dismissing it as drunken behavior. But now that he was sober, he could still shamelessly say such things, leaving Zhou Xu somewhat flustered.

Lost in thought, a sudden noise came from the bathroom. Zhou Xu didn't catch it and looked up with a confused "Huh?"

Through the door, mixed with the sound of water, a slightly hoarse voice sounded somewhat muffled: "I said, my clothes got wet. I'll come out after showering!"

Zhou Xu stood up. "Oh, okay, I got it."

Silence followed, leaving only the sound of water.

Splash, splash—

Like gentle waves lapping against the shore.

Zhou Xu sat back down, his gaze falling on the shoes left by the bathroom door—a pair of white sneakers, surprisingly clean, without a speck of dirt.

It seemed he had been careful while vomiting, avoiding his own shoes.

Zhou Xu watched silently for a while, a random thought surfacing in his mind—that person, what was his name again? Xuebing?

His feet are quite small.

Author's Note:

So embarrassing, Xuebing, hahahaha.