Chapter 22 Disgust

Chapter 22: Disgust

Lin Xishan woke up the next day because the sunlight was shining on his face.

Still half-asleep, he tried to raise his hand to block the light, but found that his hand was trapped and couldn't move. Squinting groggily, he looked over—the person in his arms was Pei Zhi.

More precisely, it was a Pei Zhi who looked thoroughly "wrecked" no matter how you looked at him.

The moment he fully woke up, the memories of last night came flooding back.

The image of Pei Zhi crying with red-rimmed eyes and saying "no."

...Wait, this might have gone a bit too far.

Lin Xishan stared at the ceiling with a look of utter despair.

As the saying goes, drinking causes nothing but trouble—that couldn't be more true.

Though strictly speaking, this couldn't really be chalked up to a drunken mistake, since given their arrangement, doing this kind of thing should be normal, right?

Wrong.

It wasn't normal at all. When he'd first made this deal, they'd only agreed to help each other out—there was no mention of actually sleeping together.

That's a separate charge.

He'd been drunk last night, but not so drunk he was out of his mind. He knew full well it was Pei Zhi in front of him, knew full well what he was doing.

And he did it anyway.

As for Pei Zhi, he seemed to have gone along with it half-heartedly. Was he doing it for pleasure, or had he actually caught real feelings...

Just as Lin Xishan's mind was wandering, Pei Zhi in his arms made a sound.

He looked down—because the sunlight had moved onto Pei Zhi's face, Pei Zhi was instinctively nuzzling into Lin Xishan's chest.

Lin Xishan instinctively raised his hand to block the sunlight for him. When he realized what he'd done, he froze for a moment.

He thought of Lin Jichuan's words—"That doesn't sound like a sugar arrangement." He thought of the kiss from yesterday.

Damn it. Someone's caught real feelings here.

And of all people, for the patron who's keeping him.

But then again, this patron probably likes him too, doesn't he? Lin Xishan thought, uncertain, recalling everything that had happened before.

Was he about to be promoted from "kept boy" to official boyfriend?

What a cliché melodrama opening—wait, he did actually live in a melodrama.

Just as Lin Xishan was in the middle of spiraling, Pei Zhi opened his eyes and looked up at him.

Their gazes met. Before Lin Xishan could figure out what to say, Pei Zhi moved first.

He sat up abruptly, face pale, and rushed into the bathroom barefoot.

Lin Xishan sat up, confused. This wasn't how he'd expected things to play out.

But thinking about the expression on Pei Zhi's face just now, he had a nagging, uneasy feeling.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipped on his slippers, and walked to the bathroom door.

Then he heard the sound of retching.

...

Lin Xishan went cold all over.

He wanted to laugh at himself for reading too much into things, but he couldn't even manage a cold sneer.

He had never felt so humiliated. Not even when he'd learned he was Ye Jiaonan's "doormat second male lead."

Because he'd never had genuine feelings for Ye Jiaonan.

But he had for Pei Zhi.

The retching continued from behind the door. Lin Xishan looked down at himself.

His bare upper body, with the bite mark Pei Zhi had left on his collarbone last night still visible.

How ridiculous.

He'd thought last night meant something to both of them. He'd thought that kiss, those trembling gasps, those wet eyes looking at him in the darkness—they all meant something different.

And the result?

The other person woke up in the morning so disgusted he threw up.

Lin Xishan took a deep breath. His face expressionless, he turned and walked back to the bedroom.

He started getting dressed.

He moved quickly, almost roughly. He buttoned his shirt wrong, then unbuttoned and re-buttoned it. His fingers were trembling, but he willed himself to stay steady.

He couldn't lose it here.

That would be too humiliating.

By the time Lin Xishan finally managed to get dressed, the sounds coming from the bathroom had stopped.

The door opened.

Pei Zhi stood in the doorway, his face as white as a sheet, his lips drained of color, tears still clinging to the corners of his eyes from the strain of retching.

He gripped the doorframe. The moment he looked up and saw Lin Xishan, his whole body visibly stiffened.

A storm of emotions flickered through those upturned eyes.

Panic, fear, and then the dazed confusion of someone who wanted to explain but had no idea where to begin.

Their gazes met.

Lin Xishan was the first to speak.

He felt like he should say something, but when he spoke, his voice was far calmer than he'd expected—so calm it even surprised him.

"Pei Zhi," he said. "Let's end this between us."

Pei Zhi's face went still.

"The arrangement you mentioned—the sugar daddy thing," Lin Xishan paused, "is ending early. The card's on the bed. I haven't touched a cent of your million. Let's just pretend everything before never happened."

He finished talking, pulled his wallet out of his coat pocket, took out the pure black card, and set it on the nightstand.

The motion was clean and decisive, like he was just wrapping up a routine task at work. Then he walked to the entryway and put on his shoes.

"Lin Xishan." Pei Zhi finally spoke, his voice so hoarse it was barely a whisper.

He came stumbling over, barefoot, reaching out to grab Lin Xishan's sleeve.

Just like the first time they'd met in that alley, his grip just as tight.

Lin Xishan looked up. Pei Zhi's lips were trembling, his eyes red, with tears glistening in them.

He opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, like there were words jammed in his throat, fighting to get out.

But nothing came out.

Not one word.

Lin Xishan wanted to wait—

Wait for Pei Zhi to say "It's not what you think," wait for Pei Zhi to explain why he'd just gotten sick, wait for Pei Zhi to tell him this was all a ridiculous misunderstanding.

But Pei Zhi said nothing.

He just kept clutching Lin Xishan's sleeve, like a dog that'd been kicked too many times—wanting to get close but not even able to whimper.

Lin Xishan waited about ten seconds. Maybe longer, maybe shorter; he wasn't sure anymore.

Then he reached out and pried Pei Zhi's fingers off his sleeve, one by one.

His touch was gentle but firm. Then he turned and left.

The hallway was quiet. The elevator arrived fast. As the doors slid shut, he saw Pei Zhi rush out, his lips moving, but through the shrinking gap, no sound made it through.

The elevator doors shut.

Lin Xishan leaned against the elevator wall, tilting his head back to look at the light above.

The bright white light stung his eyes until they ached.

He didn't cry.

His eyes just stung a little.

When he stepped out of the apartment building, the cold winter wind hit him in the face, and Lin Xishan realized he was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat. The wind cut right through it, chilling him to the bone.

He stood by the roadside, pulling out his phone to order a ride. When he opened the app, he realized he didn't even have this address saved in it.

Because every time he came here, he rode on the back of the motorcycle, arms wrapped around Pei Zhi's waist, cheek pressed against his back, never bothering to learn the way.

Now that he thought about it, maybe it was because deep down he felt he didn't need to remember the way.

Pei Zhi would bring him here anyway. As long as Pei Zhi was around.

Lin Xishan shoved his phone back in his pocket and started walking down the road.

He didn't know the way, but if he kept walking, he'd eventually hit a populated area, and there he could flag down a cab.

The logic was simple, just like his relationship with Pei Zhi—or so he'd thought. You give me money, I sleep with you, we each get what we need, clean and simple.

When had it started getting complicated?

Was it when Pei Zhi said "just you" in the rehearsal room? When Pei Zhi moved to a new apartment because he'd casually mentioned it was "drafty"? When Pei Zhi texted "goodnight" at exactly eleven every night?

Or even earlier.

Lin Xishan suddenly felt like an idiot.

He'd thought he was clear-headed, thought he was the one who "wasn't invested" in this whole thing.

He'd helped Pei Zhi because Pei Zhi could help him get out from under Ye Jiaonan's control; he'd let Pei Zhi get close because the "sugar daddy arrangement" made it all make sense.

But now Pei Zhi had used a bout of puking to tell him: what you thought was closeness might've just been the other person enduring it.

Once he hit the main road outside the neighborhood, he flagged down a taxi and gave the driver the school's address.

The driver was a chatty middle-aged guy who kept glancing at him in the rearview mirror and said, "Hey kid, you don't look so good. You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Lin Xishan said. "Just didn't sleep well last night."

"You young people, stop staying up so late," the driver rambled. "Health is your most important asset. If you don't take care of yourself now, you'll regret it later..."

Lin Xishan leaned against the car window, the driver's voice reaching him like it was muffled behind thick glass—faint, not quite sinking in.

When the taxi stopped at the school gate, Lin Xishan paid and practically fled out of the car.

He walked into campus, but had no idea where he was going.

Didn't want to go back to the dorm, didn't want to see Lin Jichuan, didn't want to answer questions, didn't want to see anyone he knew. Didn't want to eat, didn't want to drink, didn't want to do a damn thing.

He just wanted to walk.

Keep walking until his body was more tired than his heart, and maybe he could temporarily forget the sound of that retching from the bathroom this morning.

He walked and walked, and somehow ended up at the lake.

It was one of the quietest spots on campus. The lake was covered in a thin layer of ice, ringed by willow trees. In summer it was beautiful, but now the branches were bare, hanging low over the water.

Lin Xishan stood by the lake for a bit, then sat down on a nearby bench.

He didn't cry. His eyes just ached so much that everything looked blurry. He blinked, forcing the ache back down, but the lump in his throat kept growing, heavier and heavier, until it was hard to breathe.

He figured he probably liked Pei Zhi more than he'd realized.

Liked him so much that being rejected actually hurt, liked him so much that even now, all he could think about were the good things about Pei Zhi.

The new apartment, the coffee he made, the "goodnight" texts every night.

Liked him so much he couldn't even hate Pei Zhi.

Because Pei Zhi had never lied to him. He'd said from the very start that he needed him—not because he was special, but because his body could make Pei Zhi feel like a "normal man."

It was Lin Xishan himself who, at some point without realizing it, had mistaken "need" for "like."

Footsteps approached from behind, getting closer, then stopped a short distance away.

"Xishan?"