Chapter 44

Chapter 44

"Come on in."

Shang Xueyan stepped aside, gesturing for Shang Xianwang to enter. As Dajin, usually quiet, registered the man's appearance at the doorway, it became excited, barking and nuzzling its metal nose against Shang Xianwang's calf.

Shang Xianwang bent down, soothingly stroking Dajin's cool head.

He had just patted Dajin's head in the same way, right after entering. The thought made Shang Xueyan's gaze dart away in a fluster. Noticing Shang Xianwang had straightened up, Shang Xueyan cleared his throat. "You haven't had dinner yet, have you? I was just about to order takeout. What would you like to eat, Big Brother?"

"Takeout?" Shang Xianwang followed Shang Xueyan into the living room, noting no one else was home. "Where's Aunt Wang?"

When the family divided, he had arranged for Aunt Wang to stay with Shang Xueyan and take care of his daily meals.

"Aunt Wang's daughter is in the hospital. I told her to go take care of her." He added, as if an afterthought, "Anyway, I live alone. Takeout is convenient and easy enough."

"There are several good takeout places nearby. For example, I've ordered from this burger and fried chicken place several times. How about we have that tonight?" Shang Xueyan pulled out his phone, opened a food delivery app, and showed the restaurant to Shang Xianwang.

Shang Xianwang merely glanced at it before saying, "Never mind, I'll order."

A little over half an hour later, the food Shang Xianwang ordered arrived. It was clearly a private delivery service from a high-end restaurant—the server, in uniform, carried it upstairs in an insulated container. The dishes looked both nutritious and delicious.

After dinner, Shang Xianwang placed the food waste in the kitchen, washed his hands, and walked out to the sound of pattering rain. Shang Xueyan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, turning with bright eyes. "Big Brother, it's raining quite heavily. Why don't you wait until it stops before leaving?"

"...Alright."

"Then let's watch a movie. Rainy days are perfect for movies." Shang Xueyan turned on the large TV screen in the living room.

Shang Xianwang sat down beside Shang Xueyan, who was on the plush carpet next to him. They didn't intentionally keep their distance; any slightly larger movement would cause their bodies to brush against each other.

Even though they were in a high-rise in the city center, with traffic winding through the streets below like an endless golden ribbon and lights glowing from nearby buildings forming a crisscrossing web of light visible to the naked eye, at this moment, Shang Xianwang felt as if he had returned to the quiet, familiar Fengyun Bay, just like many nights the two had spent together.

Shang Xueyan picked an Indian movie. After selecting it, he turned off the living room lights. As the overhead lights dimmed, he set down the remote, leaned back, and stared at the movie screen.

Though his eyes were fixed on the TV screen, he wasn't truly focused. As the opening credits ended and the screen brightened, Shang Xueyan swallowed dryly, feeling a strong sensation of being watched.

Was Big Brother looking at him?

Rubbing the fabric of his lounge pants with his palm, his hand grew slightly damp with sweat. The person beside him breathed lightly, his presence not strongly felt, but it was there—like the air they breathed, whether noticed or not, it was real and tangible.

Licking his dry lips, Shang Xueyan's heart pounded like a drum. He slowly turned his face, but instead of the expected eye contact, his Big Brother was intently focused on the movie.

Seemingly sensing his gaze, Shang Xianwang slightly turned his head.

Shang Xueyan turned his head away again.

A faint, unnoticed disappointment crept into his heart. Was it just his imagination? There's a psychological phenomenon: if you feel someone is watching you, even if no one is, you'll still feel observed.

Shang Xueyan shifted his attention back to the movie. Surprisingly, within a few minutes, he became engrossed, captivated by the exciting and interesting plot and superb acting.

When the end credits appeared on the screen, Shang Xueyan realized two and a half hours had passed unnoticed. He glanced outside—it seemed the rain had stopped.

"Turn on the living room lights..." As he voice-controlled the light switch, Shang Xueyan turned his head and found his Big Brother leaning against the soft back of the couch, actually asleep. He unconsciously softened his voice, "Sleeping lights."

The living room lit up with a soft glow. Shang Xueyan noticed the faint dark circles under Shang Xianwang's eyes. Had he been very busy lately?

His gaze fell on that familiar face, and Shang Xueyan realized he had lost some weight, his features more defined, his brow slightly furrowed in sleep.

Not waking him, Shang Xueyan turned off the movie, quietly stood up, fetched a blanket from the room, and bent down to cover Shang Xianwang with it.

As the light gray thin blanket settled over Shang Xianwang, Shang Xueyan was about to straighten up when his hand was suddenly grasped by a warm, cool large hand. Shang Xueyan looked up, "Big Brother, you..."

Shang Xianwang looked at him dazedly for a moment, faintly called out "A Yan," then closed his eyes and frowned, falling back asleep.

Shang Xueyan bit his lip, tentatively trying to pull his hand away, but the other person tightened his grip, holding his four fingers together more firmly. Shang Xueyan raised his face, his gaze meeting the vertical line between Shang Xianwang's brows.

He had no choice but to maintain this position.

Shang Xueyan sat down beside Shang Xianwang, placing his phone out of reach. With nothing else to do, he glanced out the window. The crisscrossing web of light seeped in slightly. The night was deep and quiet, with soft breathing echoing in his ears.

His hand was held firmly in the other's palm, the temperature slowly rising.

Their body heat transferred between them. Because the grip was so tight, there was a slight pain, but it soon faded, replaced by a warm, dense sensation of skin contact that spread to his nerve endings, filling his brain with a tingling warmth.

Shang Xueyan bit his lip, slowly turned his face, his gaze drifting downward to their tightly clasped hands. His eyes felt as if scalded by a flame, hastily darting away. His eyes grew moist, the corners reddening. A rare itchiness bloomed in his heart, his lips slightly parted, glistening as if they had been mistreated.

Shang Xueyan took a light breath, turned his head, and stared intently at the transparent floor-to-ceiling window.

When Shang Xianwang woke up, he first felt some discomfort in his neck. Sitting up straight, his body slightly stiff, his gaze fell on the deep black leather couch. His hand rested on the couch, still tightly holding another hand.

Looking up, he saw Shang Xueyan leaning back against the couch, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, clearly asleep.

His Adam's apple moved with a soft sound. Shang Xianwang's gaze returned to their intertwined hands.

The warmth in his palm was scalding and nostalgic. He slowly loosened his fingers. They had been held for too long, his fingers tightly enclosed in his palm, as if new imprints had been formed. There were several red marks pressed into his palm. Shang Xianwang slowly clenched his hand into a fist.

Looking down, he saw Shang Xueyan's well-proportioned, fair fingers reddened from his grip. The overlapping fingers contrasted sharply with the cool white of the back of his hand.

Shang Xianwang's breathing grew involuntarily heavier.

Shang Xueyan frowned, uncomfortably moving his neck.

After composing himself, Shang Xianwang called softly, "A Yan, A Yan."

"Big Brother?" Shang Xueyan yawned, drowsily opening his eyes. His gaze drifted toward the window, but seeing outside required turning his neck at a large angle. He gave up halfway and mumbled, "Is it morning already?"

His left hand still retained the other's body heat. Shang Xianwang gripped it with his right hand, found his phone, and checked the time. "It's still early, only 2 a.m. Go back to your room to sleep."

Shang Xueyan responded vaguely, closing his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened them, yawned, and a bit of physiological tears welled at the corners. "Okay..."

He stood up, suddenly much more awake. "What about you? It's so late, don't go back. There's... an empty room anyway." As he said the last few words, his eyelashes lowered, trembling slightly, avoiding eye contact with Shang Xianwang.

"...Okay."

After changing into pajamas, Shang Xueyan collapsed into the soft bed.

The comfort of the luxurious bed was incomparable to the cramped couch. Shang Xueyan hugged the quilt, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. After a while, he turned over, still awake. Though the bed was comfortable, he was alone in the room.

Shang Xueyan hugged the quilt and turned over again. This time, he fell into a deep sleep. Even several earth-shattering claps of thunder before dawn didn't disturb him in the slightest.

"Big Brother, you're up already?" In the morning, Shang Xueyan, whose sleep could be described as two levels better than good, freshened up and left the bedroom full of energy. In the living room, he saw Shang Xianwang standing by the floor-to-ceiling window.

Shang Xianwang turned around, the fiery morning light like red silk pouring down behind him. He smiled slightly, "Awake? What would you like for breakfast? I checked your fridge. I can make sandwiches or dumplings?"

Shang Xueyan coughed twice, cleared his throat, and said, "I want steamed dumplings and boiled eggs."

Shang Xianwang couldn't help but laugh softly. "Alright, sure."

The dumplings were Aunt Wang's beef and scallion dumplings, and the eggs were plump free-range eggs. Shang Xueyan tapped the egg in his hand against the porcelain plate with a crisp "crack," causing a line to split across the smooth, round shell.

As he lowered his head to peel the egg, he glanced across the table. Shang Xianwang was also peeling an egg. Since peeling an egg doesn’t require much force, the blue-green veins lay docilely beneath his thin skin, occasionally bulging slightly with the light movement of his fingers, with an undercurrent of elegant sensuality.

Shang Xueyan’s mind flashed back to the previous night when he had gripped Shang Xianwang's hand tightly. The blue-green veins on the back of his hand had abruptly and exaggeratedly protruded. From the exertion, his knuckles had soon taken on a distinct reddish tint—a kind of sensuality belonging to a mature man’s adult body.

Sensing Shang Xianwang's gaze on him, Shang Xueyan averted his gaze, lowered his head, and focused intently on peeling his egg.

Over the next while, Shang Xianwang noticed that Shang Xueyan seemed to be avoiding him, especially when his eyes accidentally fell on his hands—he would quickly look away, his expression showing unease.

Was he remembering the scene from last night when he had tightly gripped his hand? Did it make him uncomfortable? At this thought, his mood felt like a stone dropped into a bottomless lake, sinking heavily downward, surrounded on all sides by churning, suffocating undercurrents.

After finishing breakfast, Shang Xueyan cleared the dishes into the dishwasher and wiped the table clean. They took the elevator down together. Shang Xianwang headed home, while Shang Xueyan was going to the company today and then meeting a director with Shen Ling.

They arrived at the underground garage. Shang Xueyan cleared his throat, looked up, met Shang Xianwang’s eyes levelly, and said calmly, "I’m heading out, Da-ge."

"Mm."

It was already afternoon by the time they finished meeting the director. Shen Ling returned to the company, and Shang Xueyan drove to a nearby mall. Shen Mengkun had mentioned that Shen Mengyue had recently become fond of My Little Pony. Since it had been a while since he last visited Shen Mengyue, he decided to pick a gift she would like and go see her at the hospital.

After browsing the mall for a while, Shang Xueyan chose a My Little Pony music box and asked the shop assistant to wrap it in something pink and cute. Carrying the gift, he left the dazzling array of shops. Just as he stepped out, a clear, standard Mandarin called out from the second floor, seemingly directed at him, "Hey, handsome, wait a moment."

Shang Xueyan looked up and saw that the person urgently shouting toward him was actually a fair-haired, blue-eyed foreigner—a complete stranger. Definitely not calling for him. Shang Xueyan strode purposefully toward the elevator ahead.

"Hey, handsome, I’ve been calling you for ages." Moride hurriedly rushed down from the second floor, blocking Shang Xueyan’s path, breathing heavily.

Shang Xueyan asked, puzzled, "Do I know you?"

He didn’t know any foreigners.

Moride placed his hands on his hips, took several deep breaths, and said, "I know who you are. An, An—do you know An?"

"No," Shang Xueyan shook his head and turned to go.

Moride grabbed Shang Xueyan’s arm. "Shang Xianwang—his Chinese name is Shang Xianwang."

This successfully made Shang Xueyan stop. He scrutinized the other man. "What’s your relationship with him?"

Moride caught his breath. "I’m An’s university classmate and roommate." His gaze lingered on Shang Xueyan’s face, and when he reached out as if to touch him, Shang Xueyan quickly stepped back.

Moride said, "Sorry, I’m just a bit too excited. You know what? You look exactly like the clay figure Shang Xianwang sculpted. You’re really handsome too. An… Shang Xianwang didn't even idealize his lover."

"Lover?" Shang Xueyan frowned slightly.

Moride said, "Yeah, back when he was studying, he always had a little clay figure of you in his backpack. When girls or guys expressed interest, he said he already had someone he liked. I asked if it was the person he thought about every day, and he said yes."

Moride continued, "But back then, he said you two had separated. Are you together now? He loves you deeply, very deeply. I’ve seen him kiss the little clay figure of you—really, the look in his eyes then was the gentlest I’ve ever seen him!"

His mind reeled; he felt dizzy and disoriented. Shang Xueyan swallowed hard, his head swimming dizzily. "Are you sure he didn’t say ‘brother’ instead of ‘lover’?"

Moride looked almost offended. "My grandmother is Chinese; I’ve spoken Chinese since I was little! I can definitely tell the difference between ‘my love’ and ‘brother.’"

Moride asked curiously, "I asked why you two broke up, but An wouldn’t say anything. Anyway, An is the most devoted man I’ve ever met. In four years of university, I never saw him give anyone else a second glance. He’d just hold that little clay figure—the one of you—whenever he had free time."

"I think you should give him a chance. Are you two together now?" Moride asked.

"Sorry, I have things to do. I need to go."

"Then let’s exchange contact info. I have a phone card."

After giving the foreigner his contact information, Shang Xueyan walked in a daze to the underground garage, his mind more chaotic than ever before. A black car drove past him, and Shang Xueyan almost forgot to move out of the way, earning a few angry shouts from the driver.

It took him a long time to find his car. He tried several times before managing to open the McLaren door. Sitting in the dim cockpit, he felt waves of dizziness. The blue-eyed man said Shang Xianwang called him his lover. Shang Xueyan had been learning English recently and knew some simple phrases, including "my love." But hadn’t his big brother only developed feelings that weren't just brotherly after they reunited?

His fingers unconsciously clenched into his palms, his knuckles turning white from the force.

If the blue-eyed man wasn’t lying, did big brother like him even in their previous life? In Da'an a thousand years ago, homosexuality was an unspoken taboo, let alone between brothers. With parents and elders present, his feelings could utterly be called going against all natural order.

Shang Xueyan remembered the soft clay figure big brother had given him, sculpted in his likeness—lifelike and exquisitely detailed. He recalled how Wang Xiantao, upon first meeting him and big brother, had suspiciously asked if they were really actual brothers.

So, had he liked him since a thousand years ago? After coming to this millennium, enduring ten years of impossibility, had he still not forgotten this forbidden affection?

His heart pounded "thump, thump, thump." His blood ran hot, and his breathing grew heavy. Memories of Shang Xianwang from different times flashed before his eyes: a thousand years ago, when he went to Song County to visit Shang Xianwang, fell into a mud pit while digging lotus roots, and Shang Xianwang fished him out, covered in mud; in this millennium, when he said, "I only want to be your brother," with eyes full of profound sorrow.

A sudden, powerful impulse surged within Shang Xueyan. Gritting his teeth, he waited until the dizziness subsided, then started the car.

Hearing the faint sound of an engine, Shang Xianwang glanced at his phone. Five minutes ago, Moride had texted that he had arrived at the entrance of Fengyun Bay residential area. Thinking it was Moride, Shang Xianwang put down the news article he was reading and went to the entryway. However, when the door opened, it wasn’t the impulsive Moride who had said he had something important to discuss.

"A Yan?" Shang Xianwang had just called out when another engine sound was heard. A black car slowly drove into the courtyard where trees were sprouting new buds.

Moride parked in an empty spot in the yard, got out of the car, and a sincere smile spread across his handsome face. "An, long time no see. Today I—" His words cut off abruptly when he saw the handsome youth at the door.

Some memories resurfaced. Shang Xianwang said succinctly, "Moride, this is my younger brother, Shang Xueyan."

He shot a warning glance at Moride, then explained to Shang Xueyan, "A Yan, this is my friend from university, Moride."

His voice gentle, he asked, "Why did you come back suddenly?"

The blue-eyed man behind him was staring intently. Shang Xueyan clenched his hand in the air and said stiffly, "I came back to get something."

With that, he hurriedly brushed past Shang Xianwang and went upstairs.

Moride walked over, changing his shoes while asking in confusion, "Younger brother? Isn’t he your beloved? How did he become your—"

Shang Xianwang interrupted him, looking serious. "Moride, don’t mention these things in front of him."

Instinctively, Moride filled in the story details in his mind. No wonder Shang Xueyan had looked so startled when he mentioned "lover" at the mall today. So this was a tragic, beautiful love story. An’s beloved hadn’t left him because he didn’t like him—but because he was his blood-related younger brother. No wonder he had been so repressed, pained, and sorrowful.

"But it’s already too late."

Moride apologized sincerely, "I already told him."

Shang Xianwang’s body tensed instantly, his expression grave. He looked down, fingers trembling as he stared at Moride.

Moride truthfully recounted what had happened at noon, his eyes filled with guilt. "I was too excited. The last time we met, you said you were still single. I guessed you still couldn’t forget your beloved. He was very wary of me at first, but when he heard your Chinese name, his guard dropped significantly. I suddenly said I wanted to see you today because I ran into him at the mall."

Sensing that Shang Xianwang wasn’t in the mood to entertain him, Moride apologized and left the house.

The living room was spacious, but Shang Xianwang’s mind was filled with panic and fear. A Yan knew? Knew that his feelings hadn’t arisen in an open, accepting world but in one where not only brotherly love but even two men being intimate was unacceptable?

There was no such thing as keeping distance to forget.

He couldn’t forget. Before reuniting with him, knowing it was impossible in this lifetime, he still hadn’t forgotten after nearly ten years. How could he forget now? It was merely self-deception and a flimsy excuse to allow himself to be seen as an elder brother.

Would he find it disgusting? Would he find it unacceptable?

Could he accept that, beneath the facade of an elder brother, he had long harbored dirty thoughts? Shang Xianwang recalled that morning when he asked if he wanted sandwiches or dumplings, and he had naturally, intimately said he wanted steamed dumplings and boiled eggs. Would such ordinary, happy moments still appear in his life from now on?

Does having no blood relation mean it's not incest? They share the same parents, his name is written in the Shang family genealogy, and everyone under heaven and earth knows he is his elder brother. Yet, he still developed taboo feelings for his younger brother—desires so deep they could not be uprooted across past and present lives.

Of course, the heavens punished him.

It laid bare his most wretched and ugly side, exposing it abruptly before the eyes of his beloved.

Shang Xianwang’s hands and feet went cold, and the world seemed to spin around him.

*Tap, tap*—footsteps sounded beside him.

Shang Xianwang bit his lip, the taste of blood flooding his mouth. Forcing himself to stay composed, he turned his stiff body.

Shang Xueyan clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and asked, “Did you like me even in our past life?”

This love was supposed to remain hidden, taboo, buried deep underground with him. But this might be the only chance, across lifetimes, to confess his feelings to the one he loved. His lips pale, his gaze full of longing fixed on his face, Shang Xianwang replied, “Yes, I liked you, starting from our past life.”

“Then… do you still like me now?” That dizzy feeling washed over him again. Shang Xueyan had been shocked, hesitant, torn, and anxious for so long. But now, an intense impulse surged within him—today, he would put an end to all the negativity. Driven by that impulse, he asked the question whose answer he already knew.

It felt like being buried 90,000 feet underwater, surrounded by pitch-black darkness, with no sunlight or oxygen, no roaring waves or cataclysmic storms—just a quiet, suffocating despair.

“I do,” Shang Xianwang said, his lips pale, his gaze unwavering, each word spoken slowly and hoarsely. “I still like you very much.”

It was an expected answer, yet upon hearing it, Shang Xueyan’s heart began to pound uncontrollably—*thump, thump, thump*. Gripping the sleeves of his hoodie, his eyes shining brightly, he declared, “Then let’s date, Shang Xianwang.”

It was out.

Finally out.

It was a raw, burning impulse from the depths of his heart, an instinct driving him to speak those words. After saying them, Shang Xueyan felt no regret, no hesitation—only the increasingly loud, frantic beating of his heart, *bang, bang, bang*, as if it might pound out of his chest at any moment.

It wasn’t that he had no feelings, was it? His hand being held tightly in the dead of night, the restrained, intense glances exchanged in the underground garage, the desperate efforts to score on the seaside court—even further back, the memory of that fair, finely sculpted body by the open-air pool on the island.

He had felt something all along. While affection from other men might disgust him from head to toe, Shang Xianwang’s feelings left him confused, desperately trying to “correct” what he thought was wrong.

But at twenty-one, Shang Xueyan had never fallen for anyone. Shang Xianwang was one of the closest people in his life. Sometimes, the lines were too blurry, and his lack of experience made it hard to distinguish the subtle deviations in his emotions.

Shang Xueyan had always been the bravest, his youthful body brimming with unbelievable energy. He knew he might regret any decision later, but he refused to regret it now.

A buzzing filled Shang Xianwang’s ears, making it hard to tell if it was day or night. He let out a bitter laugh and mocked himself, “Can you really have delusions in broad daylight?”

“It’s not a delusion,” Shang Xueyan said, stepping forward, closing the distance, and meeting his dark, confused gaze with determination. “Shang Xianwang, I said, let’s start dating—right now.”

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Author’s Note: I’ll be featured on the Sunday ranking list, so tomorrow’s update will be delayed until Sunday at 11 PM. Red envelopes for all comments on this chapter! Mwah!