Chapter 14 Hitting On

Chapter 14: The Pickup

Pei Zhi stared at the bouquet of daisies, refusing to take it.

His lashes fluttered, his lips parted as if to speak, but in the end, he said nothing.

Lin Xishan was in no rush. He just held the flowers up, smiling at him.

The backstage hallway was busy with people coming and going. Several band members and staff passing by couldn't help but slow down, sneaking glances at the scene.

"Pei Zhi?" The band's guitarist, Jiang Muye, poked his head out of the dressing room, half a cigarette hanging from his mouth. "What are you doing just standing at the door? Brother Zhou said—"

His voice died in his throat.

Because he saw Pei Zhi reach out and take the bouquet, carefully, pinching the kraft paper wrapping with his fingertips.

"Shit." Jiang Muye took the cigarette out of his mouth, eyes wide. "Pei Zhi, you actually took flowers?"

Pei Zhi gave him a cold look.

Jiang Muye immediately raised both hands in surrender: "Fine, fine, I didn't see anything."

But as he turned and ran back into the dressing room, his voice was loud enough for the whole hallway to hear: "Brother Zhou! Brother Zhou, come out here quick! Pei Zhi took flowers! Someone gave him flowers! And he actually took them!"

Pei Zhi's face went stiff.

Lin Xishan couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Seems like you don't usually accept flowers," Lin Xishan said.

Pei Zhi pulled the bouquet of daisies closer to his chest, his movements stiff and awkward: "No shit."

"What about your fans? Don't they send you any?"

"They used to," Pei Zhi paused. "But I wouldn't take them, so they stopped."

"Why not?"

Pei Zhi didn't answer. He just looked down at the daisies he was holding.

The white petals looked almost too clean under the dim yellow light, out of place against the grimy backstage hallway.

"What kind of flowers are these?" he asked.

"They're daisies."

"Why'd you buy these?"

Lin Xishan joked: "Because they were the cheapest."

Pei Zhi frowned, not liking that answer: "Didn't I give you a million?"

"Just kidding. I thought they fit you." Lin Xishan was cracking up.

Pei Zhi looked like he'd just swallowed something wrong.

He stared at Lin Xishan for two seconds, then looked away, the tips of his ears turning red.

"...Freak." He muttered under his breath, but he held the flowers tighter.

"Pei Zhi!" A loud voice came from the dressing room. "Get in here now!"

Pei Zhi glanced at Lin Xishan. "Wait here."

"Okay."

Pei Zhi turned and walked into the dressing room, leaving the door a crack open.

Lin Xishan stood in the hallway, peeking through the crack.

The dressing room was small. A few band members were sitting or standing around, packing up their gear. A tall man with a thick beard—presumably Brother Zhou—was standing in front of Pei Zhi, looking down at the bouquet of daisies he was holding.

"You actually took them?" Zhou Yan's voice was filled with disbelief. "Didn't you throw the last flowers someone gave you right into the trash?"

"That was roses," Pei Zhi said. "Too gaudy."

"And these aren't?"

"No."

Zhou Yan's expression became even more complicated.

He glanced at the other two band members, and the three of them exchanged a look of unspoken understanding.

"So," Zhou Yan cleared his throat, "is that the guy you called me about last time? The one you wanted to 'keep close'?"

Pei Zhi's expression turned cold. "Keep your voice down."

He didn't want Lin Xishan to overhear.

If Lin Xishan heard that, it would be like admitting defeat.

"Fine, fine, I'll keep my voice down." Zhou Yan lowered his voice. "So it really is him, then?"

Pei Zhi was silent for two seconds: "Yeah."

The dressing room fell silent for a moment.

The drummer, Gu Zhou, let out a suggestive "Ooooh—" which Jiang Muye cut short with a smack to the back of his head, turning it into a muffled grunt.

Zhou Yan took a deep breath, looking Pei Zhi up and down.

"Kid," he said, his voice full of complicated emotions, "I've known you for three years. Three years, and you've never let anyone in. Last time, a fan chased you to the backstage trying to get a photo with you, and you shoved her away—almost scared the poor girl into tears."

Pei Zhi frowned.

"And now?" Zhou Yan pointed at the flowers in his arms. "You not only let someone come watch your show, but you also took their flowers. Pei Zhi, be honest with me—do you have feelings for him?"

Pei Zhi's fingers tightened around the daisy stems.

"No," he said.

"Then what is it?"

Pei Zhi fell silent.

The air in the dressing room grew tense.

After a moment, Pei Zhi finally spoke, his voice cold. "I just need him."

Zhou Yan stared at him for a few seconds, then heaved a sigh: "You think no one noticed, but I saw it. On stage, your eyes were looking for him."

Pei Zhi opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out.

Gu Zhou muttered quietly from the corner: "Oh my god, Pei Zhi actually makes that face..."

Jiang Muye didn't whack him this time, because he was equally stunned.

As far as they remembered, Pei Zhi had always been aloof and unapproachable—cold, like a blade still sheathed. Anyone who dared get close, he'd draw his sword.

But now, that blade had warmth to it.

"Alright, alright, stop hovering." Zhou Yan broke the silence. "It's not good to keep someone waiting outside too long. Let's wrap up. We're done here."

In the hallway, Lin Xishan leaned against the wall, head down, scrolling his phone, waiting for Pei Zhi to come out.

The backstage corridor was dimly lit, with the occasional crew member passing by carrying equipment cases and casting curious glances his way.

"Hey."

A voice came from beside him.

Lin Xishan looked up and saw a young man standing a few steps away. He wore a flashy velvet shirt, collarbones exposed, thin eyeliner, holding a bottle of beer.

He was in one of the other opening bands tonight—Lin Xishan remembered him, twisting around on stage earlier like a snake.

"You're Pei Zhi's friend?" The man swayed over with his beer bottle, his gaze sweeping over Lin Xishan without any attempt to hide it, and smiled. "You're pretty hot. A guy as prickly as Pei Zhi actually has a friend like you?"

Lin Xishan nodded politely but didn't say anything.

The man, however, wasn't planning on leaving. He stepped closer, the smell of alcohol mixed with cologne wafting over: "How about adding me on WeChat? I'm Shen Yu. I'll hook you up with tickets to future shows."

He pulled out his phone, QR code already up, and held it out to Lin Xishan.

Lin Xishan was about to politely decline when he caught a glimpse of the dressing room door opening out of the corner of his eye.

Pei Zhi walked out, holding the bouquet of daisies in his arms.

He froze mid-step the moment he saw the scene.

The air seemed to freeze for a second.

Pei Zhi's gaze landed on Shen Yu's raised phone, then shifted to how close Shen Yu had gotten to Lin Xishan, and finally settled on Shen Yu's beaming face.

The remaining softness in those phoenix eyes was doused with ice water, instantly cooling into a dark, oppressive glare.

He strode over.

His footsteps weren't heavy, but they echoed clearly in the quiet hallway.

Shen Yu felt a chill behind him, turned around, and met Pei Zhi's gaze. His smile stiffened: "Yo, Pei Zhi, you're out? Your friend here's pretty interesting, I was just adding—"

"Back off," Pei Zhi said.

His voice wasn't loud, but every word seemed squeezed through clenched teeth, and his eyes were like a fierce wolf cub's.

He wouldn't let anyone so much as look at his master.

Shen Yu's smile faltered: "Come on, I'm just adding him on WeChat—"

"I said, back off." Pei Zhi repeated, stepping forward to block between Lin Xishan and Shen Yu, his back ramrod straight.

Shen Yu looked at Pei Zhi's face, wisely raised both hands, and backed off two steps: "Fine, fine, he's yours, all yours. I won't add him, alright?"

He turned and walked away awkwardly, muttering after a few steps: "Damn, it's not that serious. Like he's guarding his food..."

Pei Zhi didn't look back.

He stood still, his back rigid, the daisies in his arms slightly crushed from his grip.

Lin Xishan leaned against the wall, watching his tense back and the tips of his ears turning red, and couldn't help but smile.

"Pei Zhi," he called.

Pei Zhi didn't turn around, his voice stiff: "Don't talk to strangers from now on."

"He was the one hitting on me, it's not like I went up to him."

"Still not allowed."

"You're being so unreasonable."

"Yeah, I'm unreasonable." Pei Zhi finally turned around, his phoenix eyes churning with something like anger, or maybe a deeper, unnameable unease.

He stared at Lin Xishan and said, word by word: "You're mine. No one else gets to touch you, look at you, or hit on you."

Lin Xishan watched his possessive, obsessive act and suddenly felt something soften in his chest.

"He was just adding me on WeChat."

"Adding him on WeChat isn't allowed either." Pei Zhi's voice dropped even lower. "If you give him your WeChat, I swear I'll—"

He trailed off, as if searching for a threat heavy enough.

Lin Xishan finished for him: "You'll what? Cut my pay?"

Pei Zhi's expression darkened even more.

He knew Lin Xishan was teasing him, but he couldn't control the irritation and possessiveness surging from deep inside.

It felt strange.

It wasn't a physical need, but something deeper—an instinct like his territory was being invaded.

"Don't give it," Pei Zhi finally choked out, then shoved the daisies into Lin Xishan's arms. "Hold these."

Lin Xishan looked down at the flowers shoved into his arms, then up at Pei Zhi's red ears, and finally couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Alright," he said, holding the flowers, smiling at Pei Zhi. "I won't. I'll only accept your flowers, only add your WeChat. Happy now, my dear patron?"

Pei Zhi's Adam's apple bobbed, and he looked away: "...Let's go."

"Where to?"

"I'll take you back to school."

Lin Xishan gave a knowing smile: "You sure it's school? You called me here today just to watch the show?"

Pei Zhi paused.

"Then..." he said, his voice a bit awkward, "back to my place?"

Lin Xishan smiled: "Alright."