Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Fang Bingxue’s eyes remained slightly narrowed for a couple of seconds before he replied, "Why are you begging me? That sounds so pathetic."

He was just teasing, like absentmindedly picking at a sofa seam—no ulterior motives, just idle chatter.

Zhou Xu said, "Fine, then just take pity on me."

That left Fang Bingxue momentarily speechless, but Zhou Xu quickly added, "Hurry up. Whoever chickens out is a loser."

Fang Bingxue retorted, "You’re the loser."

He dropped the towel into the hot water basin, pulled out a tissue, and wiped his arm. "Just wait."

It was past nine. Fang Bingxue changed clothes and, just before leaving, turned back to put on the baseball cap he’d worn earlier. His hair had grown long, and he’d meant to get it cut during the holiday but kept putting it off, so it looked a bit shapeless and unkempt.

Sweeping his bangs under the cap made him look cooler.

But to Zhou Xu—who was straddling his motorcycle, long legs planted firmly on the ground, a belt dangling loosely, broad-shouldered and muscular, with clearly defined arm muscles—if he’d added a jade pendant or gold chain and a cigarette dangling from his lips, he’d have looked straight out of a gangster flick.

But Zhou Xu wasn’t like that. His neck and shoulders were clean, no accessories, no trace of smoke. He even held a helmet in his arms. Aside from his intimidating looks, he was the picture of a law-abiding citizen.

Then, spotting Fang Bingxue, he immediately quipped, "Hiding from the cameras?"

Fang Bingxue paused, tilting his chin up.

Zhou Xu continued, "They’ll still spot you like that. You’ll need a mask too."

"You’ve got some nerve," Fang Bingxue said. "Sounds like you’re quite experienced."

Zhou Xu replied, "Nah, just—hey, come here, let me see what’s wrong with your arm."

Fang Bingxue hadn’t let Zhou Xu pick him up at the residential compound, instead meeting him a block away at a quiet street corner, where the wind howled, kicking up dust everywhere. Fang Bingxue walked up to Zhou Xu’s motorcycle. "Just a tweak, no big deal."

"How’d you twist it?" Zhou Xu stayed seated, watching him. "Is it serious?"

Fang Bingxue smiled. "An old injury."

Dressed in long sleeves and pants, he held his cap against the wind, tilting his face slightly to avoid getting a mouthful of sand when he spoke. Zhou Xu handed him the helmet. "Hop on."

Fang Bingxue took it. "Where to?"

He held the helmet but didn’t put it on or climb onto the bike, standing rigidly. Zhou Xu glanced at him. "Relax, I won’t kidnap you."

Fang Bingxue took off his baseball cap, and Zhou Xu casually took it, hanging it on the handlebars. The black motorcycle looked new, its exhaust pipe still warm to the touch. Once the helmet was on, Fang Bingxue slowly adjusted the buckle. "What about yours?"

Zhou Xu had already leaned forward. "Only brought one. It’s yours."

The ride wasn’t long, and Zhou Xu didn’t say much else, just gunned the motorcycle and took off. Zhou Xu rarely rode with passengers; occasionally he’d give rides to the younger kids from the shop. Those kids were small, giggly, and easily scared, so they’d cling to him from behind as soon as he sped up, terrified of being thrown off at a turn.

Fang Bingxue kept some distance between them, not pressing against him, probably holding onto the back.

It was the first day of May, and the evening was neither cold nor hot. Aside from the dusty air, everything was pleasant and comfortable. Through the visor, Fang Bingxue watched the night sky and the blur of passing trees. Zhou Xu shielded him from the wind, and he could smell a distinct scent of soap—Zhou Xu must have showered that afternoon.

When they arrived, Zhou Xu turned his head. "Guess where we are."

Fang Bingxue got off, still fumbling with the buckle. "Kinda. I saw the lights from afar."

Zhou Xu had brought him to an open-air movie screening.

It was at an elementary school, the iron gates wide open for the holiday. From a distance, Fang Bingxue could see the flickering light and faint noise from the playground. Zhou Xu explained that the neighborhood committee was organizing a movie screening for three consecutive nights. Seeing Fang Bingxue still fumbling with the buckle, he reached over to help adjust it.

As he did so, his hand brushed Fang Bingxue’s.

Fang Bingxue didn’t react, tipping his head back to let Zhou Xu unbuckle the strap around his neck. "Is this thing a bit faulty?"

Zhou Xu replied, "Ah, yeah, a little."

His gaze lingered on Fang Bingxue’s jawline, then dipped slightly lower. A strange thought crossed his mind: how could a man’s Adam’s apple be so attractive?

His thoughts wandered, and his gaze became unfocused. He didn’t know where to look. Just then, Fang Bingxue rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faint, pale scar on his left forearm.

Zhou Xu took off the helmet. "Your injury… was it here?"

Fang Bingxue raked a hand through his hair, annoyed at how flat it looked after being pressed under the helmet. "I’ve got plenty of scars. Which one are you talking about?"

He meant it as a joke, a bit of bravado, but Zhou Xu didn’t press further, just gave his shoulder a light, almost hesitant shove. "Let’s go."

"Wait," Fang Bingxue turned back. "I forgot my cap."

Zhou Xu said, "Why wear that at night?"

Fang Bingxue grinned. "My hair’s too long. Haven’t gotten it trimmed. Looks like crap."

He shouldn’t have said that. As soon as he did, Zhou Xu stared at his face. It was a bit overgrown, but Fang Bingxue’s fair skin and handsome features pulled it off—it didn’t look out of place, but rather gave him a casual, carefree vibe.

"Not at all," Zhou Xu said, his hand shifting from a light touch to a firmer push. "Come on. You look great."

The movie was *Titanic*. The field was packed, mostly a young crowd, with vendors selling cotton candy on the sidelines. The speakers blared, rustling the leaves of nearby trees under the flickering light. Someone waved from a distance, yelling, "Bro Xu!"

Fang Bingxue didn’t recognize the guy—probably someone saving them seats. After a quick nod, the man left. Zhou Xu pulled Fang Bingxue into the seat next to him. The spot was close to the screen, offering a clear view, and the chairs had backrests, making them comfortable.

Once seated, Zhou Xu asked, "Why didn’t you go home?"

Fang Bingxue shrugged. "Family drama. Never mind."

The movie had been playing for over half an hour, the visuals crisp. Zhou Xu asked, "Seen this before?"

With the noise around them, they had to lean in to talk, Fang Bingxue tilting toward Zhou Xu. "Yeah."

Then he added, "Good movies are worth rewatching. I like this one."

Zhou Xu said, "Alright. I’ll grab you an ice pop. What flavor?"

Fang Bingxue laughed. "I’m not a kid..."

Zhou Xu was already standing. "Take it or leave it."

Fang Bingxue "hissed," "What’s with the attitude?!"

Zhou Xu, halfway down the aisle, turned back. "You mad?"

That’s how guys talked—casual, even teasingly harsh. Zhou Xu had toned it down around Fang Bingxue, never really snapping at him. He’d decided to treat Fang Bingxue the same way he treated his friends.

Otherwise, his chest burned with something unnamable.

If it were Ding Yong glaring at him like that, Zhou Xu would’ve kicked him without hesitation, maybe even sparred a little. But when he turned and saw Fang Bingxue, something in him wavered.

The wind tousled Fang Bingxue’s hair, wild and untamed, like a dandelion in disarray.

The dandelion kept chattering, "You’re the one who asked me out for ice cream, and now you’re saying 'take it or leave it'?"

After saying that, Zhou Xu blinked slowly.

He suddenly realized something—Fang Bingxue seemed to be... acting cute with him.

Then, Zhou Xu complied.

He came back with a bag full of ice cream, asking Fang Bingxue what he wanted, saying there were all kinds of flavors. Fang Bingxue didn’t hesitate, just took the one on top, unwrapped it, and took a small bite.

It reminded Zhou Xu of eating with Fang Bingxue—he was always proper, never picking through dishes, ate attentively. Clearly, he’d been raised well.

Zhou Xu had bought a lot, so he passed some around to others. When he returned and sat down, Fang Bingxue asked, "How much was this?"

Zhou Xu, unwrapping a green bean popsicle, turned his head. "Huh? Not much."

Fang Bingxue smiled. "Thanks, man."

The screen swayed in the wind, somehow making it more immersive. The young, beautiful protagonists began kissing, the lighting ambiguous.

Fang Bingxue’s ice cream was milk-flavored, melting quickly, cloyingly sweet in his mouth. He didn’t usually eat this kind of thing—aside from a period in high school when school stress had him hooked on milk tea from a shop near campus, he was quite mindful of his diet. He wanted to keep his body healthy and agile, his mind sharp.

But sweets always boosted his mood.

The reflected light danced across the audience like silver silk. Amid the noisy English soundtrack, Zhou Xu glanced at Fang Bingxue just as the bright light faded from his face, making him look briefly lonely.

Fang Bingxue asked, "What’s wrong?"

The movie wasn’t over yet—it was the dramatic iceberg collision scene, passengers scattering in panic. Zhou Xu took the empty wrapper from Fang Bingxue and stuffed it into the bag he was holding. "You know how it ends, right?"

"Of course," Fang Bingxue replied. "This movie was huge. Everyone watched it back then."

Zhou Xu played with the edge of the plastic bag. "Yeah, the ending’s handled really well."

Fang Bingxue asked, "What are you trying to say?"

Zhou Xu fell silent, handing him a tissue. Fang Bingxue wiped his hands and tossed it into the bag. "You’re speaking in riddles."

Truthfully, it wasn’t much—Zhou Xu just wanted Fang Bingxue to see the movie’s ending, where the heroine blows the whistle with all her might, gets rescued, and lives a brilliant life. Zhou Xu liked that approach. He believed real love wasn’t about abandoning the world for someone, but meeting someone good enough to give you the courage to see a more beautiful world.

But right now, he couldn’t find the right words.

Fang Bingxue didn’t push it. He hadn’t picked up on Zhou Xu’s convoluted thoughts at all. He sipped some mineral water and twisted the cap back on.

By the time the movie ended, it was almost midnight.

Zhou Xu asked, "Need to use the restroom?"

Fang Bingxue said, "Sure."

By then, the crowd had dwindled. Those left were yawning, heading home in twos and threes. The elementary school only had one three-story building, its green paint peeling. Zhou Xu led Fang Bingxue to a corner, still holding the trash bag. "Go ahead."

Fang Bingxue glanced inside and stamped his foot. "Hey, there’s no light."

"Power’s out," Zhou Xu said. "It’s the holidays. It’s safe."

Fang Bingxue walked in, shaking his head. "Total darkness..."

When he came out, he frowned. "No water either."

Zhou Xu teased, "So particular."

He set the bag down, unscrewed the partially full water bottle, and said, "Here, wash your hands."

The field was nearly empty now, just a couple of staff packing up. The night was deep and quiet. Fang Bingxue gave his hands a quick rinse. "Back in school, I loved power outages. Meant no night study sessions—we could go home."

Zhou Xu put the bottle back. "And then?"

"Let me think," Fang Bingxue said, shaking water off his chilly hands. "By senior year, even if the power went out, we weren’t going home. Our school had the nerve to install a backup generator. Just in case."

Zhou Xu laughed.

Side by side, they descended the steps and left the building.

Fang Bingxue went on, "Once, the outage was short, and the power came back suddenly. Our class teacher was furious."

"There was this couple in the front row—stealing a kiss while it was dark. You should’ve seen the look on their faces when the lights came back on..."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

Zhou Xu walked beside him. "What happened after?"

"Nothing," Fang Bingxue said casually. "Just remembered when I saw the building."

Those awkward teenage years had been full of reckless impulses. Fang Bingxue hadn’t experienced them himself, but he’d witnessed enough to find it amusing.

By the time they reached the motorcycle, he glanced back at Zhou Xu. "What’s on your mind? You’re still holding the trash."

Zhou Xu came to his senses. "Oh." He walked over to toss the bag into a roadside bin. When he returned, he seemed slightly awkward. "Nothing."

Fang Bingxue, however, was completely unfazed. Instead of holding onto the back handle, he wrapped an arm around Zhou Xu’s waist, brazenly feeling up his abs. "Pretty firm."

Zhou Xu tensed up. "Stop touching!"

He regretted it immediately. What was the harm? Back when he showered with friends, they’d joke around checking each other’s abs. Why couldn’t Fang Bingxue do the same?

The bike hadn’t started yet, so Fang Bingxue wasn’t concerned about distracting the rider. He gave another feel. "Seriously, do you work out?"

Zhou Xu gripped the handlebars, hesitant to start the engine, afraid Fang Bingxue might say something even bolder. "Yeah..."

Fang Bingxue stopped groping, content with a one-armed hold. "Are you tensing up on purpose?"

Zhou Xu said, "I’m not."

"Don’t believe you," Fang Bingxue teased. "Relax, let me check."

Zhou Xu turned to glare at him, more sternly this time. "Cut it out."

Fang Bingxue grinned. "I’m just playing around."

Zhou Xu was at a loss. He patted Fang Bingxue’s hand, his thumb grazing his knuckles. "Stop. I can’t handle this."

His calloused fingertips tickled Fang Bingxue, who finally backed off. "Fine, I’ll behave."

When they reached the drop-off point, Fang Bingxue fixed his baseball cap, hunching slightly against the wind. Zhou Xu asked what his plans were for tomorrow.

Fang Bingxue thought for a moment. "Sleep in, maybe watch some TV."

"Call me when you’re up," Zhou Xu said. "I know a doctor. Let’s have your arm looked at."

Crickets chirped from the roadside flower beds, their calls rising and falling. Fang Bingxue blinked and said, "Bro Xu, you’re seriously the best."

"No," Zhou Xu replied, "I treat everyone this way. Don’t read into it."

His tone was natural, his expression sincere as he continued, "No joke—ask anyone at the shop."

Fang Bingxue said, "I’m not doubting you."

Zhou Xu licked his lips and repeated, "Seriously, it’s not just friends—hell, I’d do it for a dog."

Fang Bingxue snorted, unable to hold back his laughter.

"Alright," he said, pulling his cap lower. "Oh man, seriously, just go home already. Listen to what you're saying."

Zhou Xu nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I’m going."

But even after saying that, he didn’t leave.

After a pause, Zhou Xu added, "Let me know when you’re home."

Fang Bingxue smiled. "Sure."