Chapter 23

Chapter 23

As the words fell, both men fell silent.

Fang Bingxue’s mind took a sharp turn, racing down the terrifying thought of, "Wait—is he talking about me?" After all, Zhou Xu’s eyes were fixed on him. Even if Fang Bingxue had never been in a relationship, he was still a grown man in his twenties—he could pick up on something weird in the emotions and… the atmosphere.

Like now. The vibe was way off.

Having just been in a fight, his adrenaline had surged to its peak before gradually receding, like he'd survived a mini tsunami. His eardrums still buzzed, and his fingertips still tingled with that post-adrenaline numbness of survival—no matter how experienced he was, no matter how many life-and-death situations he’d faced, he was only human.

Fang Bingxue felt a little a mess at the moment.

And yet, under this starless night sky, someone was looking at him, saying he was "real easy on the eyes," but dead serious. That gaze made Fang Bingxue unable to hold his gaze. It was too strange. He actually thought—*Is Zhou Xu… worried about me?*

The night air was soft.

This wasn't exactly the time for them to lock eyes. Whether he looked away or held the gaze, it would feel awkward. The broken cigarette was still pinched between his fingers. Fang Bingxue hesitated for a moment before forcibly dragging his weird-ass train of thought back on track:

"...Then what *were* you talking about?"

Had to be about that cute little bunny, right? Absolutely!

Zhou Xu said, "Mm."

Fang Bingxue let out a pissed-off hiss. "I asked you a question. The hell's with the ‘mm’?"

Zhou Xu didn’t answer, just kept looking at him.

Fang Bingxue clamped the cig between his teeth and bit down. "Were you talking about that rabbit? The one I caught? Damn cute, right? Where’d you put it?"

Zhou Xu was still staring at him.

*Fuck this.* Fang Bingxue couldn’t take it anymore. He hated this kind of vague, sticky feeling—it was unfamiliar, unsettling. The liveliness of the night was fading, and on the grayish-blue steps, Fang Bingxue flicked the cig away and strode right up to Zhou Xu. "The fuck you mean? Spit it out!"

If a passerby happened to glance their way, they wouldn’t even see Fang Bingxue—his figure was completely blocked by Zhou Xu’s hulking frame. The tall man didn’t say a word, just reached out and wiped Fang Bingxue’s face with a tissue.

Fang Bingxue went stock-still for a second before starting, "I—"

Before he could even finish, Zhou Xu scraped hard at the corner of his mouth. The motion was a little too forceful, his brows furrowed. Silently, he kept wiping away the dirt and bloodstains on Fang Bingxue’s face.

...To the point where Fang Bingxue was making a face.

The last time someone had manhandled him like this, squishing his features into a scrunched-up mess, was back in elementary school when they were short on performers for a play. He’d been talked into wearing a damn dress to play a girl, his short hair barely tied into two little pigtails. His eyes had been tugged upward along with it—*"T-teacher, it’s way too tight…"*

But Zhou Xu wasn’t a teacher. He wouldn’t stop just because Fang Bingxue resisted. His large, calloused hand moved firmly over Fang Bingxue’s face, wiping away the grime from the fight—meticulous, unyielding, and stone-faced. Only when he reached the side of Fang Bingxue’s face did he finally pause.

Blood had crusted in his hair.

Fang Bingxue snapped, "Stop pulling my hair or I swear to god—"

He’d meant it as a joke, trying to lighten the mood. But the moment the words left his mouth, Zhou Xu’s hand, which had just lowered, lifted again.

Without hesitation, he yanked Fang Bingxue’s hair.

Fang Bingxue: "..."

He instantly went rigid, instinctively wanting to flip Zhou Xu over his shoulder. But the moment his fingers brushed Zhou Xu’s wrist, he jerked back. "You fucking psycho?!"

Only then did Zhou Xu laugh.

The earlier tension vanished. His laughter was all rough edges and lazy charm, his eyes bright, returning to that razor-sharp, too-handsome, don't-give-a-fuck self.

"Of course the cute little bunny is nice to look at," Zhou Xu said, pulling out a lighter and tossing it at Fang Bingxue with a cocky toss. "Appreciate it."

The lighter must have been kept close to his body—it was still warm from being in his pocket as it traced a silver arc through the air. Fang Bingxue caught it, then looked up and asked for a cigarette.

Zhou Xu spread his hands. "You said it yourself—you don’t smoke."

Fang Bingxue ground out, "And you took that at face value?"

"Of course," Zhou Xu fired back bluntly. "Why wouldn’t I? So when you said these injuries were from a fight just now—should I believe that too?"

Fang Bingxue had no comeback. He simply sat back down on the steps, chin in hand as he looked away.

He stared at the buildings, at the night sky—anywhere but Zhou Xu. The sound of a flint wheel striking echoed, followed by the faint scent of tobacco. The weird knot in Fang Bingxue’s gut finally dissipated. He’d figured it out—Zhou Xu was just messing with his head.

If he was deliberately trying to get under his skin, what other ulterior motives could he possibly have?

Seemed like what the forensic examiner said at the gathering was right.

Zhou Xu *hated* cops. Even if he didn’t know Fang Bingxue’s identity yet, subconsciously, he’d probably already been irritated by the cop stink all over him. That’s why he was starting shit now.

Good.

Fang Bingxue dabbed at the corner of his mouth with his palm, leaving only the back of his head for Zhou Xu to see.

Most of the time, relationships between men were no-bullshit. Even the closest friends would argue and bicker. They might’ve been ready to kill each other yesterday, only to share drinks today. Fang Bingxue didn’t particularly like this kind of friendship—it felt a little too erratic—but he understood it.

At least this way, that weird tension and the inexplicably weird sexual tension finally came to an end.

Fang Bingxue wasn’t afraid of Zhou Xu going head-to-head with him. What he *was* afraid of was Zhou Xu looking at him with *that* gaze.

The one that made his pulse jump nervously, restless and unsettled.

Before long, Zhou Xu walked over and knocked his knee against Fang's shoulder. "Hey."

Fang Bingxue didn’t turn around.

"You coming or not?" Zhou Xu had his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I’m taking the cute little bunny back. For its sake, I’ll give you a ride."

Zhou Xu urged him around the cigarette between his lips. "Well?"

Fang Bingxue still didn’t turn.

A moment later, Zhou Xu chuckled. His voice, roughened by smoke, was low and husky. Honestly, hearing it in the dead of night was kind of… sexy.

He looked at Fang Bingxue and sighed. "You."

No wonder people said Fang Bingxue was petty and held grudges. By the time Zhou Xu had walked quite a distance away, Fang Bingxue finally turned his head—slowly.

Only for the wind to blow dust into his eyes.

Fang Bingxue rubbed at them with the back of his hand.

Zhou Xu’s offer to give him a ride was unnecessary. He was an experienced detective with commendations—did he really have no way to get back on his own?

Ten minutes later, Xiao Li’s call came belatedly.

And fifteen days after that, Fang Bingxue pulled up in front of Zhou Xu’s internet café, rolling down the window looking pissed. The cut on his chin had long since healed—no band-aid needed, just a faint mark waiting to fade. There was no more grime or bloodstains on him either, just the faint scent of his usual body lotion.

The girl who had brought him the car keys was snacking on sunflower seeds and peeked out from behind the front desk, "Hey, you here to see Bro Xu?"

Fang Bingxue looked at her from a distance and smiled, "No need, I'll get him myself."

With that, he laid on the horn twice—"Beep beep—"

It was already quite hot in May. When Zhou Xu appeared before him, he was wearing a tank top and shorts, shuffling in flip-flops, his arm muscles fully exposed, radiating energy under the sunlight. And when he lazily leaned against the car window, cocking an eyebrow at Fang Bingxue—

Well, it wasn’t like Fang Bingxue meant to stare.

But his gaze just happened to land on the other’s toned chest.

And Zhou Xu, without shame, folded his arms and leaned down, accentuating them further—so obvious that Fang Bingxue wondered if he buried his face in them, he might suffocate from how thick they were.

Wait.

Why was he even thinking about that?

Blame it on the fact that they’d been exchanging messages here and there lately. Half a month ago, on the night of the operation, he’d casually squeezed Zhou Xu’s chest and asked how he trained them—they're impressive.

That was a perfectly normal comment, nothing weird about it.

So it wasn’t strange that Zhou Xu called Fang Bingxue, inviting him to go jogging, work out, or play badminton.

Fang Bingxue shot down every invitation.

No way was he putting in extra hours!

The biggest regret of Fang Bingxue’s life was listing "running and ball sports" under hobbies when he first joined the force.

Back home, during dinner, he casually mentioned it. Doctor Fang and Teacher Qin both paused their chopsticks and shared a knowing look.

Fang Bingxue, mid-bite, looked at them in confusion, "What?"

Teacher Qin, ever the doting parent, hesitated before asking, "How did your supervisor react?"

"Oh, he only asked which ball sports I played," Fang Bingxue said cheerfully. "I said tennis, badminton, and ping pong were all fine. He didn’t say anything else."

Then, a chicken wing appeared in his bowl—personally served by Doctor Fang, who looked at him with affectionate eyes, "Xiao Bao, eat more."

Teacher Qin gripped her chopsticks, "Should we…?"

"Work is something parents can’t handle for their kids," Doctor Fang said with a smile. "They have to walk their own path. It’s no big deal. It’s fine."

Less than a year into the job, Fang Bingxue finally understood the look in their eyes.

From then on, whenever there were events or friendly matches with other departments, Fang Bingxue became the go-to guy—unquestionably the first to be volunteered. At first, he didn’t think much of it. Back in the police academy, there were plenty of competitions—groups of guys full of energy, roaring to compete with style and results. But Fang Bingxue never expected that after starting work, everyone would turn into world-weary veterans.

Nor did he expect there to be so many freaking events.

To the point where he was now sick of hearing "let’s play ball."

After rejecting Zhou Xu, the latter didn’t push it. They still chatted occasionally, about random things—just casual talk. Until the May Day holiday approached, and Fang Bingxue was heading home for a couple of days, mentioning he’d bought some beef jerky.

Zhou Xu called out, "Come over to my place."

Fang Bingxue asked why.

"Got you two sheep," Zhou Xu said. At the time, they were on the phone. Fang Bingxue was lying in bed, hugging a pillow, but he bolted upright at that. Zhou Xu’s lazy voice came through the receiver, "...Take them home with you."

Fang Bingxue was stunned, "Two sheep?"

Zhou Xu: "Yep."

"Wait," Fang Bingxue picked up the glass on his nightstand and took a sip of water. "Why are you giving me sheep?"

"Last time, you couldn't take your eyes off the sheep for a long while," Zhou Xu said. "So I got you two. Sheep from the northwest taste better—different from other places. Just throw them in your trunk and take them back."

Fang Bingxue took another sip of water.

He’d driven all the way here for work convenience. There was no way he’d endure the grueling drive back just for a few days off. No way. Too tiring, too much hassle. So Fang Bingxue planned to take the regular train, buy a sleeper ticket, and maybe even catch some sleep in his clothes.

Zhou Xu obviously knew Fang Bingxue’s hometown was far from Lichuan County.

He’d seen the license plate.

"Don’t stick around this small town. No point. Since you’re heading back anyway, no need to drive back here later."

"Wow, trying to get rid of me now?"

Zhou Xu laughed on the other end, "So you’re not leaving? Taking the train back and then coming here again?"

Fang Bingxue caught the implication and deliberately kept his tone cold, "Nope, not coming back. Have fun eating dust by yourself."

"Who’s eating sand? I’ll be eating grilled lamb chops." Zhou Xu’s laughter was loud and carefree, ringing in Fang Bingxue’s ears and making him instinctively hunch his shoulders.

So now, Fang Bingxue’s mission was to show up, eat his fill, and leave with a haul.

Zhou Xu had already bought the sheep and even texted him a photo. Fang Bingxue, intrigued by the description, asked if they really tasted that good. Zhou Xu said they did—if not, Fang Bingxue could sit on his head. Fang Bingxue scoffed, "Screw you. If they’re bad, I’ll put a curse and have the sheep bite you in your dreams tonight."

"Dummy, sheep don’t bite. They butt with their horns."

"Then tonight, the sheep will ram you in your dreams. And you’re the dummy."

—Somehow, they’d grown this close.

And last night, Zhou Xu woke up drenched in cold sweat, silently heading to take a cold shower, thinking Fang Bingxue’s mouth seemed to have real power.

He really dreamed of being butted.

But not by a sheep—by Fang Bingxue.

Nuzzling and butting his head against Zhou Xu’s chest, muttering something under his breath. Zhou Xu didn’t dare touch him, arms raised stiffly like back in the private room.

He heard himself ask Fang Bingxue, "Did you really break up?"

In the dream, Fang Bingxue hung his head, pliant and vulnerable, not answering directly. Instead, he asked, "What do you like about me?"

Zhou Xu didn’t reply.

A long moment later, Fang Bingxue in his arms finally looked up, eyes so striking they made Zhou Xu’s heart skip: "You only like my face... actually liking a man’s face? You’re pathetic."

His heart pounded as he shouted, "The hell! Who said I like you?!"

Then, Zhou Xu was grabbed, his expression instantly changing. Fang Bingxue, looking like he’d just emerged from a river, face damp, lips a shiny wet-red, asked, "Then why are you reacting like this?"

...After waking up and finishing his shower, Zhou Xu lay awake for hours.

Tossing and turning until dawn, he finally stepped outside, soaking up the morning sun for a long while. Back home, there was a saying—if you felt off, maybe you’d picked up some bad energy. Best to soak up some sun to cleanse yourself.

After roasting in the sun until all the messy thoughts in his head were gone and his skin burned hot, Zhou Xu finally felt at ease. Now, even if Fang Bingxue stared at his chest, he didn’t feel flustered. Instead, he teased lazily, "Enjoying the view?"

Zhou Xu had long since figured it out—he just found Fang Bingxue interesting and good-looking. He'd been overthinking things lately, paying a little too much attention to him. So, he decided to treat Fang Bingxue the same way he treated his buddies. What's the big deal?

Fang Bingxue nodded. "Damn right I do."

But the moment those words left his mouth, Zhou Xu almost lost his footing.

Fang Bingxue was sharp. He noticed the slight sway in the man’s posture and smirked as he opened the car door. "Get more sun. Builds strong bones."

Though the words were casual, they struck a nerve. Zhou Xu’s face instantly burned, and he stiffened defensively. "The hell?"

"Move," Fang Bingxue brushed him off, getting out of the car. "Where’s the lamb? Didn’t you say—"

A normal person would’ve stepped back when the car door swung open, but Zhou Xu’s heart was racing. His whole face turned beet red in an instant, his movements turning clumsy.

So, when Fang Bingxue pushed the door open, it slammed into Zhou Xu’s chest with a thud.

"Shit," Fang Bingxue hurried out of the car. "You okay? Did that hurt?"

Zhou Xu stiffly dodged further back, avoiding eye contact as he muttered, "I’m fine. It’s nothing."

And it really was nothing—because it didn’t hurt.

It just made him hard.