Chapter 37: Ordering Gu Hansheng Around?

Chapter 37: Bossing Gu Hansheng Around?

Gu Hansheng's bossy tone clearly indicated he knew who Zhao Yu was, though his eyes were half-closed, heavy with sleep.

Zhao Yu didn't budge until Gu Hansheng yanked him onto the bed.

"I asked you a question. Can't you hear me?" Gu Hansheng said.

Zhao Yu had heard him, loud and clear, but was too stunned to answer right away. He finally replied after a pause: "My master has treated me well."

"No wonder. You've grown your own wings, and now you're giving me the cold shoulder." Gu Hansheng lifted his chin, his fingers trailing slowly down the artery in his neck until reaching his slender collarbone. Zhao Yu, a healthy adult, was thinner than Chen Xitong lying unconscious in the hospital bed. He wasn't nice to hold, and the calluses on his hands were getting thicker.

There were too many things about Zhao Yu that displeased him. Of everything Gu Hansheng owned, this was the only odd one out. Maybe it was a "rare things are precious" kind of deal—he couldn't help but keep getting drawn to him.

Zhao Yu looked at his drowsy appearance and ventured cautiously: "You didn't mistake me for Chen Xitong?"

Gu Hansheng let out a scoffing laugh: "Not everyone turns into a moron when they drink."

So if he didn't mistake me for someone else, why did he kiss me?

Zhao Yu didn't have the guts to ask.

Even drunk, Gu Hansheng still had that condescending tone, but he seemed way easier to deal with than usual—not so cold and tight-lipped.

He pulled Zhao Yu's head closer, and when he saw Zhao Yu avoiding his eyes, the irritation flared up again. He demanded, "When did I ever force you to act like Chen Xitong?"

Zhao Yu opened his mouth to argue but suddenly went quiet. Gu Hansheng indeed had never forced him to play Chen Xitong—in fact, he'd been the one to suggest it from the start. If Gu Hansheng wanted something from him, he had a hundred ways to get it.

That question from the other day, the one that never got answered, popped back into his head: If I'm not playing Chen Xitong, then what am I even doing here?

An answer that made his heart pound was right there, on the tip of his mind—maybe there was a tiny spot in Gu Hansheng's heart for him—not for Chen Xitong, but for Zhao Yu.

It was ridiculous—after getting shot down so many times for reading too much into things, the thought still crept back. One single kiss had punched a hole in the wall he'd worked so hard to build around his heart, and all the longing he'd been bottling up came flooding out.

He didn't want Gu Hansheng to look at him and see someone else's ghost—he wanted those eyes to stay on him, just for a second, wanted to see that man look at him with the love he'd only ever gotten by lying. Once you want something, greed just comes with it.

Zhao Yu was freaked out by his own greed. He wanted to get away from Gu Hansheng, but Gu Hansheng kissed him again, no explanation, boxing him in with his arms.

Gu Hansheng's kiss was more intense than before, with a hint of pissed-off frustration, like he was letting off steam about something. Only when they were kissing could Gu Hansheng keep Zhao Yu from dodging him, from hiding behind that polite, distant act. He was sick of Zhao Yu's fake politeness—he wanted to see his real, raw heart.

He never once thought about how unfair that was.

In every relationship Gu Hansheng had ever had, he'd never once gone all in. He just traded money for affection, watched the other person fall for him with cold eyes, then walked away without a second thought. There were people who'd fallen apart and tried to kill themselves after he dumped them, but he didn't even feel sorry for them—at best, he'd toss them a little extra hush money.

That was always his move—acting all high and mighty while tricking people into handing over their hearts.

What he hadn't figured out yet was that the second he wanted something, he stopped being a bystander and became part of the game, and there was no easy way out anymore.

Zhao Yu was almost drowning in the kiss. Even when they had sex, Gu Hansheng was usually cold, and Zhao Yu never felt much from him. But now, a wave of raw desire crashed over him.

He stared at the harsh white light on the ceiling, the brightness making his head spin. Kissing Gu Hansheng, his blood pounded through his chest, thumping loud in his ears. Suddenly, he understood why he cared so much about this man's feelings.

This too-late realization blew his defenses to pieces in a second.

He shut his eyes, and through the haze of lust eating away at his sanity, he told himself: Don't fall in love with him.

...

A gentle breeze stirred the corner of the curtain. The room was very quiet, filled with a faint fragrance. Zhao Yu turned over and slowly opened his eyes.

Gu Hansheng's face suddenly entered his field of vision. He sat up abruptly, discovering that he had actually slept in Gu Hansheng's room. Every time they had sex, Gu Hansheng always left right after. This morning's sleeping-in-each-other's-arms situation was nothing short of bizarre.

The moment Zhao Yu moved, the arm around his waist pulled him back onto the bed. Gu Hansheng's hair brushed against his neck and ear, sending a tingling sensation through him.

"Mr. Gu..."

"Am I at work?" Gu Hansheng half-opened his eyes, teasing: "What, did you hook up with a subordinate?"

Zhao Yu called him "Mr. Gu" every day without him ever bringing it up, but for some reason, he seemed to be in an especially good mood today.

The clock had already struck ten. Zhao Yu said, "It's time for work."

But Gu Hansheng said, "Isn't today your day off?"

Zhao Yu had a fixed day off every Wednesday. He hadn't expected Gu Hansheng to remember which day he rested. Zhao Yu added, "It's time for you to go to work too."

"I worked overtime over the weekend. I'm taking a compensatory day off today."

"Huh?"

"What 'huh'? Don't move."

Gu Hansheng was still hungover, and having stayed up late, he was still very sleepy. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Zhao Yu stared blankly at the wall, not knowing what was going on.

He's still holding me even after waking up?

His mind went blank for a moment. Feeling Gu Hansheng's breathing gradually even out, he quietly got up and tiptoed off the bed.

The food science book and notebook he'd been reading yesterday were still spread out on the desk. He closed the book and put it in the drawer, then sent a message to Zhou Lan: Are you busy today? Do you have time to meet up?

A few minutes later, Zhou Lan replied: Busy. Once I finish handling things, I should be able to meet in the evening.

Zhao Yu: Take your time. I don't have anything important. Don't work yourself to death for Chen Li. Make sure to rest.

In a coffee shop, Zhou Lan smiled with relief and sent Zhao Yu a sticker in reply. Then his expression changed as he looked up at the man sitting across from him—Fang Yuming.

This was the drunkard who had pestered him that day. He had thought he could get rid of him after taking him home, but now the man was clinging to him like a ghost.

The work Chen Li had arranged wasn't actually that busy. Zhou Lan spent most of his time dealing with this person, unable to avoid him no matter what.

"I've already told you—that day you grabbed me and tried to drive drunk, so I had no choice but to take you home. You don't need to thank me for this. Our paths shouldn't cross again after this." Zhou Lan said.

Fang Yuming had a face with mixed-race features, so exquisitely sculpted that it didn't look human, but Zhou Lan had no interest in admiring it.

He twisted the brownish-gold ends of his hair between his fingers and said with a squint and a smile: "Meeting is fate. I still want to be friends with you. Why did you delete me?"

"I'm very busy with work. I don't have time to reply to your eight hundred messages a day."

"Busy? But you went downstairs to buy coffee twice yesterday and took a nap in your car for an hour."

Zhou Lan's face turned ashen: "What exactly do you want?"

Fang Yuming placed a paper bag on the table: "I drank too much last time and was a bit rough. I think I tore your shirt. I specially bought a new one to compensate you."

His bold words drew a shocked look from a passing waiter, whose gaze swept between them, assuming they had some kind of special relationship.

Zhou Lan rubbed his forehead: "Thanks, but I really don't need it. Please don't say things that could give people the wrong idea."

"Take it. I don't have any friends with a waist as slim and soft as yours, so I've got no one to pass it on to."

Fang Yuming's fox-like eyes crinkled into a smile that made Zhou Lan's back crawl. If it had just been a joke moments ago, this was now blatant flirtation. If Zhou Lan hadn't been wearing a loose jacket, those eyes would have measured his three sizes.

Zhou Lan discreetly leaned back, his expression taut as he said, "If I take the shirt, will you stop bothering me?"

"Maybe."

"What do you mean 'maybe'? Just give me a straight answer."

"I can't help myself."

"They're your legs. How can you not control them?"

"I really can't help it."

The second he finished speaking, Zhou Lan felt a foot press against his thigh. He shot to his feet, glaring at Fang Yuming.

But Fang Yuming put on an innocent look: "See, I told you my legs have a mind of their own."

In Zhou Lan's eyes, this guy was practically insane. He grabbed his coffee and turned to leave, with Fang Yuming's lazy voice trailing behind him: "Bro, I'll wait for you to clock out!"

...

Zhao Yu had originally planned to visit an imported ingredients supermarket. The chef's certification exam included a theoretical component, and that supermarket happened to carry many uncommon vegetables and fruits, allowing him to connect theory with reality. He also had some dishes he was curious to try.

He threw his backpack together and was about to head out when he ran into Gu Hansheng sitting in the courtyard reading. Gu Hansheng asked, "Where are you going?"

"To the supermarket," Zhao Yu said. "Is there anything you need me to pick up?"

Gu Hansheng closed his book and stood up: "I'm bored anyway. I'll come along."

Zhao Yu watched in disbelief as he opened the garage door and drove out the red convertible Ferrari.

"What are you staring at? Get in." Gu Hansheng put on a pair of sunglasses and tossed him another pair.

Zhao Yu caught the sunglasses, stunned, and got into the car.

The Ferrari drove out of the neighborhood, speeding through the city streets. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the wind carried the faint salty scent of the distant sea. Gu Hansheng's hair blew in the wind, his left hand resting on the door, his right hand loosely gripping the steering wheel. Even in a plain gray loungewear set, he still drew attention.

Zhao Yu took a deep breath, lifted his head, and closed his eyes to feel the wind. Cruising on a day like this was incredibly pleasant, as if time had rewound to that morning months ago when Gu Hansheng took him to watch the race cars.

He couldn't help but turn to look at Gu Hansheng, thinking the sunglasses made it discreet, but Gu Hansheng caught him in his peripheral vision.

"Is there something on my face?" Gu Hansheng asked.

"Nothing." Zhao Yu looked away, his expression unnatural.

Half an hour later, the car stopped in the supermarket's parking lot, and they walked in together. The store was massive, with a dazzling array of ingredients. Zhao Yu pulled out a shopping cart and spotted parsnips and bulb fennel on the shelves, walking over eagerly.

He picked out a few nice bulbs of fennel and bagged them, then turned around to realize that while he'd been choosing produce, Gu Hansheng had somehow taken over the cart. As he walked along the shelves, Gu Hansheng followed behind pushing it.

Faced with being "ordered around" like this, Gu Hansheng didn't say a word.