Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Two days later, the hickey on Fang Bingxue’s neck had faded a little but hadn’t completely disappeared.

At work, some people noticed it but didn’t ask, because Fang Bingxue would scratch it a couple of times before going out, making it seem like a mosquito bite.

But in front of his Shifu, he didn’t bother with the act.

Fang Bingxue’s Shifu was named Tian Qing. Though he had come in a hurry this time, he still brought Fang Bingxue a bag of snacks—dried apricots his wife had sun-dried. Fang Bingxue loved these tart little treats, often grabbing a handful to nibble on while watching TV. His eyes lit up when he saw the bag, and he reached out to take it. “I’ve missed Shiniang so much!”

His Shifu’s wife was also a police officer. She had only stepped back from the front lines a couple of years ago, and her every movement still commanded authority. She adored Fang Bingxue; they just clicked. Their own child was studying abroad on a government-sponsored program, and with the house feeling too quiet, Fang Bingxue often dropped by to chat and keep her company. Their relationship was very close.

Tian Qing sat across from him, his temples slightly gray and his nasolabial folds deep, but his sharp, eagle-like eyes were still bright and alert. He smiled as he unscrewed the lid of his thermos—an old detective’s habit, always carrying strong tea when out and about. The restaurant they’d chosen wasn’t far from the conference center, just across the street. After the meal, Tian Qing could still go back and catch forty winks.

“How’ve you been?” Tian Qing leaned back in his chair. “You’re looking well.”

Fang Bingxue grinned. “Not bad.”

“When I first got here, I couldn’t adjust—the climate was too dry. I’d get eye irritation, and if I forgot to close the window at night, I’d wake up with my throat parched, sometimes even with a nosebleed.”

He refilled his Shifu’s tea and sat back down. “But later, I got used to it. I can even handle spicy food now.”

Tian Qing looked surprised. “Oh? You can eat spicy now?”

Back when they were on night stakeouts, everyone would huddle in the car eating instant noodles—most opting for braised beef or spicy beef flavors—while Fang Bingxue would pick something else, his chopsticks lifting noodles without even a hint of red oil.

“Yeah,” Fang Bingxue said. “I just drink something cold with it, like AD Calcium Milk (a sweet milk drink). It really cuts the heat.”

Tian Qing chuckled. “Alright, then let’s order some spicy dishes today.”

Being in the northwest, they naturally went for local specialties. After chatting briefly about life, Fang Bingxue started discussing the police force situation in the county—mostly the same old issues: outdated technology and investigative methods still relying heavily on traditional stakeouts and surveillance.

“Of course,” Tian Qing said, tapping the table with his index finger, serious. “This isn’t something that will happen overnight. It’ll improve once the economy picks up.”

Fang Bingxue nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Just then, their food arrived. Fang Bingxue helped sterilize the bowls and chopsticks and handed the chopsticks to Tian Qing, who didn’t take them immediately. Instead, he asked, “What’s that on your neck? What kind of mosquito bit you?”

Fang Bingxue paused before dragging out his words. “Aiya, Shifu—”

Tian Qing took the chopsticks, chuckling heartily. “My, how you’ve grown. This posting’s been good for you, huh? When did you start seeing someone? How do you feel about it?”

Nowadays, young people put off settling down, and any romantic developments were often kept hush-hush, away from the adults. Tian Qing and his wife were just like any other parents, hoping the younger generation would find someone to settle down with sooner rather than later.

Fang Bingxue’s voice dropped low. “We’re not officially together yet…”

Tian Qing drew a sharp breath. As an old-school detective, he was pretty traditional. The moment he spotted the hickey on Fang Bingxue’s neck, he’d been waiting for the kid to come clean and confess. But to hear they’d already gone this far without even being in a proper relationship?

That wasn’t right.

“If you think it’s going well,” Tian Qing frowned, “you should make it official sooner rather than later. You’re a man—you’ve got to take responsibility.”

His tone was earnest, a deep furrow forming between his brows. Fang Bingxue couldn’t brush it off. He straightened up. “Shifu, I’m not hiding anything from you. It’s just… the situation’s a bit complicated.”

Tian Qing asked, “What’s complicated about it?”

In his view, as long as two people liked each other, nothing else mattered. Fang Bingxue had good judgment—he wouldn’t fall for someone unworthy. So if the situation was complicated, it was probably because the other person’s family background was messy.

“…No,” Fang Bingxue hemmed and hawed. “His family situation is actually pretty simple. His parents are gone.”

Tian Qing set his chopsticks down. “So he’s the only one left in his family?”

Fang Bingxue nodded. “Yeah.”

“Divorced?”

“No, this is his first relationship too.”

Tian Qing picked up his cup and took a sip. “He hasn’t done time, has he?”

“No,” Fang Bingxue said quickly. “Shifu, I can’t give you my word right now, and it’s a bit hard to explain… Just give me some time. If there’s news, I’ll definitely tell you.”

Hearing this, Tian Qing didn’t press further. The two chatted about other things until it was time to leave. But as they were parting, Tian Qing stopped Fang Bingxue. After a brief silence, he said, “That girl’s all alone in her family. It’s not easy for her. Treat her well.”

Fang Bingxue stiffened. “Ah… okay.”

“Take the dried apricots for her to try. If she likes them, we’ll make more next time.” Tian Qing patted Fang Bingxue’s shoulder. “Alright, I’m off. Drive safe on your way back.”

Fang Bingxue stood there, giving a quiet “Mm,” his voice slightly thick.

Between Shifu and student, there was no need for needless formalities. Fang Bingxue had driven four hours round trip just to share a meal. They hadn’t talked much, but a quick visit was enough—just to let Tian Qing know he was doing fine, even miles away.

When he got back to Lichuan County, Fang Bingxue didn’t return to his dorm. Instead, he drove straight to Zhou Xu’s place. It was a little past three in the afternoon, and the streets were quiet. He stared at the small building, lighting up a cigarette first.

After finishing it, he called Zhou Xu. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the shop,” Zhou Xu sounded surprised. “What’s up?”

They’d been intimate last time but hadn’t seen each other in the past couple of days, only exchanging a few words at night. Zhou Xu remembered Fang Bingxue mentioning he was meeting a teacher and had prepared a bunch of things for him, saying, “Don’t worry about buying anything—I’ve got it covered.”

Fang Bingxue had laughed at the time. “Bro Xu, you don’t have to go to all this trouble.”

Fang Bingxue understood social graces, but he was busy and young—sometimes he couldn’t always be so meticulous. Before, he’d never show up empty-handed when paying visits. Eventually, his Shiniang had scolded him, saying, “You’re treating us like outsiders,” and only then did he stop insisting, just showing up with his appetite instead. But he never forgot holidays or seasonal specialties, always thoughtful.

He hadn’t expected Zhou Xu to remember an offhand comment.

In this way, the two were very alike—both worldly-wise in their own ways, not rigid or inflexible, each with their own personal code. That was why they thrived in both life and work.

Fang Bingxue said, “I just finished meeting my teacher and happened to pass by your place, so I thought I’d ask. If you’re not around, never mind.”

“Hey, don’t—” Zhou Xu quickly replied. “I’ll head back now.”

There was some noise on the other end of the line, along with catcalls and teasing voices. “Bro Xu, what’re you doing? Just abandoning your crew like that?”

“What’s going on there?” Fang Bingxue rested his elbow on the car window, sounding lazy. “You’re busy?”

Zhou Xu covered the phone and walked away, the background noise fading. “Nah, not busy. There’s a technical skills competition in August—organized by the Auto Repair Association—focused on auto body repair for accident vehicles. A few shops from nearby counties are thinking of joining, so we had a preliminary meeting.”

Fang Bingxue, being career-driven, perked up at the mention of a competition. “Hey, that’s great.”

“Yeah,” Zhou Xu’s smile was audible. “Especially with all the underhanded practices in the industry now—vague damage assessments, some so-called ‘masters’ who don’t know shit but still take jobs. If safety standards aren’t guaranteed, won’t that just lead to secondary accidents?”

He gave Fang Bingxue a brief rundown, skipping the technical jargon but making sure the gist was clear—this competition was significant, aiming to standardize industry practices. Toward the end, Zhou Xu added, “You probably heard about the insurance regulator scrapping fixed premium rates last year, right?”

“There’s something brewing in auto insurance,” he chuckled. “Market competition’s about to kick off.”

Fang Bingxue understood. “Are you getting involved?”

"Yeah," Zhou Xu said in a casual tone, "At least we can establish supply chain roles and collaborate with insurance companies to directly take on business."

After chatting for a while, Fang Bingxue didn’t want to hold Zhou Xu up any longer: "Go ahead with your work, don't bother coming back. We’ll catch up next time we meet."

Zhou Xu checked the time: "I've still got two hours left here… Once I’m done, how about I pick you up for dinner?"

Fang Bingxue replied, "No need, I’ll pick you up instead."

Zhou Xu immediately agreed: "Great, that’s perfect. I’ll wait for you."

After hanging up, Fang Bingxue shook his head with a smile. Toward the end, Zhou Xu had probably lowered his voice to avoid being overheard, but the excitement in his tone was unmistakable—he sounded downright giddy when he said, "I’ll wait for you."

True to his word, Fang Bingxue didn’t go anywhere during those two hours. He got his car washed nearby and, when the time was right, drove to the repair shop. From a distance, he spotted Zhou Xu waiting by the roadside.

Zhou Xu stood with his back to the flower bed, one hand in his pocket, radiating that bad-boy charm. Fresh from work and a shower, his muscles strained against his short sleeves, his exposed skin slightly tanned. Even without touching, Fang Bingxue could tell it would feel cool to the touch, carrying the clean scent of soap.

Fang Bingxue openly stared for a while before honking the horn.

The passenger door opened, and Zhou Xu slid in, immediately extending a hand toward Fang Bingxue: "Guess which hand has something in it?"

His fists were clenched tightly, palms down. Fang Bingxue studied them for a moment before tapping the right one: "This one."

Zhou Xu flipped his hand over and opened his palm: "Look, a little snail."

It hadn’t rained recently, and the drought had left the snail dusty, its shell looking fragile with its spiral pattern. Zhou Xu explained, "The shop auntie was washing vegetables for lunch and found this little guy. She set it aside."

But it was no surprise Zhou Xu was an animal magnet—after his shower, while drying off in the yard, the snail had crawled right up to the sink, its antennae peeking out before retreating again.

Fang Bingxue called BS: "Is it even the same one?"

"Definitely," Zhou Xu grinned. "I brought it for you—isn’t it cute? Now, check the other one."

When Fang Bingxue didn’t move, Zhou Xu nudged his chin: "Go on, press it."

The guy was acting like a kid, completely unashamed of being playful. Fang Bingxue couldn’t help but laugh as he tapped the other hand: "What is it?"

Zhou Xu turned it over and opened his palm: "Here, snails need food, so I’m giving you this to go with it."

A gold cabbage charm lay in his hand, a good fifty grams. Even in Zhou Xu’s large palm, it didn’t look small—the detail was incredible, with each leaf’s folds rendered in lifelike detail.

Fang Bingxue didn’t take it: "I… this is too valuable. It’s not appropriate."

"I’m a basic dude," Zhou Xu said, placing the gold in Fang Bingxue’s hand. "When I see something fun, I bring it to you. Us business types are superstitious—sometimes we buy auspicious things for good juju."

"Cabbage means money—'bai cai' sounds like 'hundred fortunes.' The layered leaves mean accumulating riches, like ingots. They say it also represents family harmony. Anyway, don’t hate on my tackiness or superstition."

Zhou Xu looked at Fang Bingxue: "I just want you to have money for life. I want you set for life."

Fang Bingxue held the heavy gold piece: "Do you even know my family situation? What if I don’t need this? What if I’m so rich I toss gold bricks in fountains for fun?"

Zhou Xu grinned: "Then that’s even better."

After a pause, Fang Bingxue couldn’t hold back anymore, faceplanting into his arm as he laughed: "You… are so tacky!"

"Yeah," Zhou Xu admitted, placing the little snail in the roadside bushes before closing the car door. "I’m corny as hell, no shame. I'm just trying to win you over."

As he spoke, his gaze lingered on the back of Fang Bingxue’s neck, dying to plant one there. But he restrained himself, sitting properly in the passenger seat, grinning like an idiot.

Fang Bingxue straightened up: "No, I really can’t accept this. I get what you're going for."

"Then I’ll kiss you," Zhou Xu teased. "Think carefully, Fang Bingxue. It’s just the two of us in this car…"

With that, Fang Bingxue placed the gold nugget in the cup holder and tilted his head to look at Zhou Xu, his eyes crinkled with mischief.

Zhou Xu’s heart jumped like a hooked fish—he couldn’t resist. Instinctively, he leaned in and kissed Fang Bingxue, hungry and rough.

Fang Bingxue’s head bumped against the window, but Zhou Xu slipped a hand behind to cushion it. Things got heated, breaths turning heavy. Fang Bingxue gripped Zhou Xu’s hair, kissing back with closed eyes as their clothes wrinkled. Zhou Xu didn’t push further, happy just kneading that slim waist through the fabric—he loved its unexpected flexibility.

But at the first sign of movement, Zhou Xu reacted instantly, pressing Fang Bingxue’s head down into his chest to shield his face.

Outside the car, a man stood there, gobsmacked.

The awkwardness was brutal. He’d traveled from out of town to visit Zhou Xu, picking up skills at the shop. They weren't finished yet, but Zhou Xu had left in a hurry, letting the others learn from the master—Zhou Xu didn’t mind being watched. His work spoke for itself. Visitors were welcome, whether to make friends or discuss business. Whether he agreed to anything was his call, but Boss Zhou was the real deal—scary-looking at first, but reliable once you got to know him.

So when he stepped out to take a call and saw Zhou Xu placing something by the flower bed before hurrying back to his parked car, he'd meant to say hey.

By the time he realized what was happening, it was too late.

Fang Bingxue kept his face buried in Zhou Xu’s chest as he steadied his breathing, held tightly in those arms, seeing nothing.

"B-Bro Xu," the man stammered, "I…"

Zhou Xu fixed him with a heavy stare.

Though Fang Bingxue couldn’t see outside, he’d already figured it out. There was frustration, of course, but more than that—something unfamiliar.

He felt strange about his own impulsiveness.

What had gotten into him, getting intimate in a car, in public?

In the cramped space, Fang Bingxue took deep breaths, trying to get it together. The guy mumbled something else before hastily disappearing, because soon after, Zhou Xu gently touched his face and whispered his name: "Fang Bingxue."

"Don’t be afraid," Zhou Xu murmured, kissing his hair. "I’m here."

This went beyond fear.

On the way back, Zhou Xu took the wheel while Fang Bingxue sat silently, propping his chin on one hand as he stared out the window.

Zhou Xu stayed quiet too, only asking once if he wanted to see some flowers.

"What?"

"Gardenias. They’re about to bloom—very fragrant."

He pulled over and helped unbuckle Fang Bingxue’s seatbelt: "Come see the gardenias I planted. What do you think?"

Fang Bingxue kept his head down: "Bro Xu…"

"It’s fine," Zhou Xu said calmly. "I’m just dating someone. No one would dare say anything, no matter who you are—whether you’re from out of town… or a man."

"That’s not what I’m worried about," Fang Bingxue turned to face him. "I just…"

He didn’t know how to explain. His brain was fried—he’d even forgotten to offer Zhou Xu the dried apricots.

Zhou Xu didn’t push, simply watching him patiently, as if nothing had happened at all. With him around, there was nothing to fear.

"Come on," he took Fang Bingxue’s hand. "Let me show you the flowers."

The sky had dimmed, and a light drizzle began to fall.

The gardenias were kept in the bedroom on the second floor, meticulously tended by Zhou Xu. They had already bloomed—just as imagined—pure white, with large buds, their fragrance aggressively filling the air.

To set the mood, he didn’t even turn on the lights, opting instead to deliberately light an antique—an oil lamp. Its dim, wavering flame cast wavering shadows on the wall. Zhou Xu’s mouth went dry, and he didn’t dare reach for Fang Bingxue’s hand again. "...Fang Bingxue."

Back in the car, when Fang Bingxue had half-jokingly said, "I’ve got it good, I’m loaded," Zhou Xu had actually felt relieved.

Because Fang Bingxue’s background was something Zhou Xu couldn’t quite figure out.

Fang Bingxue carried himself with an air of elegance, living up to his name—like a handful of pristine snow in the woods, refined and noble. But when Zhou Xu saw the scars on his body and felt the calluses on his palms, his stomach dropped.

He wondered, *Had Fang Bingxue suffered?*

The lamplight flickered, the beautiful gardenias exuding their heady fragrance—overpowering, impossible to ignore, ever-present.

Fang Bingxue sat on the bed, lost in thought for a moment before tucking his gun-callused hands behind his back and putting on a timid look. "Bro Xu."

Zhou Xu looked at him.

"We... were seen."

"So what?"

Fang Bingxue’s voice was soft. "It’s not good."

Zhou Xu’s chest rose and fell. "What, afraid of gossip? Worried you’ll be run out of town?"

Fang Bingxue didn’t lift his head. "I was always going to leave. I’m worried about *you*."

Zhou Xu held his breath, pacing the room a few times before moving a pot of gardenias to the windowsill. He turned back to the man on the bed, his gaze fierce. "No!"

"You’re the one I pulled out of the river. Your life belongs to me. No one’s taking you away!"

He was genuinely pissed, his tone barely restrained, his face taut with anger.

Fang Bingxue remained still, his eyes downcast, sitting quietly.

Zhou Xu’s expression darkened, his fists clenched white-knuckled. Fang Bingxue’s demeanor abruptly reminded him of that unforgettable day from the past.

The commotion outside was deafening—rumors of a tragic couple attempting a lovers’ suicide. Zhou Xu, slightly drunk at the time, arrived too late. Reportedly, one had already drowned, while the other, screaming hoarsely, fought desperately to jump in after them, no one could stop them.

And jump they did.

When Zhou Xu finally hauled them out of the water, they thrashed wildly, refusing to cooperate. Furious, he hauled off and slapped them. "You’ve got a death wish?!"

The person froze, stunned, before turning to him—drenched, a mess, their face the only clean part, pale as snow, eyes shining like stars.

—Zhou Xu’s heart hammered.

Now, he closed the distance in a few strides, gripping Fang Bingxue’s chin and kissing him fiercely, roughly, claiming him with raw need.

Fang Bingxue let himself be pushed onto the bed, putting up no fight.

His clothes were tugged open.

Zhou Xu kissed his lips, his eyelids, his ears, trailing down to his neck and collarbones, his breath searing against the skin of the one he’d ached for.

But in the end, Zhou Xu pulled Fang Bingxue’s clothes back into place, slowly forcing his breathing to even out.

He cradled Fang Bingxue’s hand, pressing a shaking slightly kiss to his palm.

"Don’t hurt like this," Fang Bingxue murmured, gently stroking his face. "Don’t be upset, Bro Xu."

Zhou Xu stayed silent.

Fang Bingxue softened his voice. "This is on me, really... Don’t feel bad. I was wrong."

He pushed himself up, burying his face in Zhou Xu’s chest like he was begging for comfort. "It was my mistake from the start. I’m sorry, alright? My bad, okay?"

Zhou Xu’s eyes welled up. "You—"

A phone suddenly rang. Fang Bingxue exhaled, picking it up.

It was Lao Yan.

Zhou Xu watched Fang Bingxue’s expression, then his lips twisted in a pout. "I’ll... go out for a smoke."

"No need." The earlier neediness vanished. Fang Bingxue lifted his gaze, tone cool. "Sit your ass down."

Zhou Xu dropped back into his seat.

The call connected. Lao Yan’s words came fast, edged with urgency. "Hey, where are you?"

Fang Bingxue replied, "I’m at Zhou Xu’s place."

At the same time, Zhou Xu recognized Lao Yan’s voice—they knew each other well, and he couldn’t mistake the veteran detective’s tone. He stiffened slightly.

"Good," Lao Yan said briskly, his rapid-fire tone always sounded like scolding. "Stay there. I’m on my way. You’re needed downtown."

Clearly, something urgent had come up—a call back to the station.

Fang Bingxue was on his feet in an instant, serious. "Got it. I’ll—"

Before he could finish, the call ended with a *beep*. Zhou Xu grabbed his hand, eyes wide.

"Bro Xu," Fang Bingxue said quietly, "You caught all that."

Zhou Xu opened his mouth but couldn’t speak.

At this point, there was no need for Fang Bingxue to hide his identity. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier."

But Zhou Xu looked unwell—his sun-darkened face went pale. "So before... when you ducked the cops?"

Fang Bingxue blinked. "Huh?"

"That time outside, you asked me to block you," Zhou Xu said, his voice shook, which was rare. "I didn’t think much of it then, but that *was* a..."

He couldn’t finish.

The room went dead silent. In the distance, sirens wailed, closing in.

Zhou Xu’s face turned even whiter. "What—what did you do? Can we throw money at this? Don’t be scared, tell me. Don’t hide it. We’ll handle this together."

Fang Bingxue lowered his head, shoulders shaking a little.

"It’s really nothing," Zhou Xu hugged him tightly. "My fault for not pressing you. I thought you’d tell me when the time was right... but if it’s this serious, you *have* to let me know."

He didn’t dare guess. Lao Yan was a detective—personally coming to take Fang Bingxue to the station meant this was bad news. Add to that Fang Bingxue avoiding police cars before... He could only plant kiss after kiss in the other man’s hair, murmuring reassurances, while cursing himself for not asking earlier.

Fang Bingxue cleared his throat, pulling out of the hug and taking half a step back. "Well, Bro Xu, Officer Yan is coming now. Let's head down together."

Zhou Xu remained silent, hugging him tightly once more. "I'm here. Don't be afraid."

The rain grew slightly heavier, like a hazy mist under the distant headlights.

Inside the police car, Lao Yan had just hit the horn when he spotted Fang Bingxue's figure, with Zhou Xu following closely behind, looking grim. If it weren't for the urgency of the situation, Lao Yan would have joked about how Zhou Xu's face had darkened like his wife just left him.

But precisely because he was busy, he had no time to ask why Fang Bingxue was at Zhou Xu's place. He simply waved quickly. "Come on, get in."

Fang Bingxue turned in the rain, looking at Zhou Xu with clear, bright eyes.

In that moment of eye contact, Zhou Xu's heart missed a beat.

It was as if he suddenly understood—then his heart began pounding wildly, so hard it hurt his chest.

"Bro Xu," Fang Bingxue smiled at him, "I have to go handle police business. Get some rest first... and wait for me to come back."

The young man's features were sharp, his posture tall and straight, his shoulders slightly dampened by the rain yet still looking every bit the hero.

Under Zhou Xu's watchful gaze, he marched ahead with purpose.

Author's Note:

Bro Xu clutches his chest: Damn, he's hot.