The illness came on fiercely. This time, Wen Di didn’t use physical suppression and obediently walked to the bedside to lie down. The fatigue and dizziness brought on by the high fever made him sink into the pillow as soon as he touched it.
Bian Cheng came over, his clothes soaked from the water, and shot him a warning glance. He got a cup, poured water, and took out the pills—another cycle.
He handed the medicine to the patient and the other person stretched out his hand. He pushed the cup over, but that hand bypassed the cup and wrapped around his waist.
“So comfortable,” Wen Di mumbled contentedly, yawning as his head tilted to one side, clearly about to fall asleep again.
Bian Cheng put the cup on the bedside table, grabbed his shoulder, and without a word, pulled him up. Wen Di suddenly woke up in shock, blinking like a flickering screen, and dazedly said, “These days, how come no one lets people sleep properly!”
Bian Cheng stared at him. “What?”
Wen Di didn’t answer, but kept muttering under his breath. Bian Cheng listened closely for a while and it seemed to bet: a paranoid who peeked at other people’s trash, a music idiot whose violin sounded like sawing wood, a level ten hearing-impaired fool, a hundred-thousand-level clumsy idiot, a bastard so disgusting even flies wouldn’t lay eggs on him.
Bian Cheng: “…Hurry up and take your medicine!”
Wen Di put the pill in his mouth but suddenly stared blankly at the cup. Bian Cheng pushed the cup to his mouth, slowly lifted it, and manually poured the water down.
Wen Di was offline for a while, glancing at the person beside him, as if unsure of where he was. He recalled for a moment in a daze, then suddenly looked left and right, feeling around in the bedding: “Where’s my phone?”
Bian Cheng handed him the phone from the bedside table.
Wen Di grabbed it and opened WeChat, and Bian Cheng thought there was something important. But Wen Di clicked into his alternate account, found the photos he took at Jiang Nanze’s house, and sent them over, adding the caption: “Feel free to admire my humble home.”
“Ha!” Wen Di gave a satisfied sneer, “There’s a junk pile just beyond that wall—I wonder if he’ll still be able to sleep tonight!”
Bian Cheng couldn’t take out his phone and check immediately, but his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of someone else’s privacy, and he almost choked: “Is that where you live?”
Right now, he just wanted to grab three trash cans, vault over the balcony, and start sorting the cockroach-breeding bottles scattered across the floor.
Wen Di maintained his evil grin and glanced sideways, suddenly noticing that the person he was flirting with was also there. His mind snapped back for a second, and he quickly explained, “This is my classmate’s house!”
Half of the goosebumps on Bian Cheng’s skin disappeared. He pointed seriously at the photo and said, “After eating a mango, it’s best to clean the pit. Its sugar content is high so it can easily attract bugs.”
For a few seconds, Wen Di froze, and by the time he started moving again, he was already sweating—half from the medicine, half from the other person’s horrible living habits.
“That person is going through a life crisis right now, so being a bit messy is understandable,” Wen Di said.
Bian Cheng stared at the photo as if it were his own life crisis.
“Do you know Thomas the Tank Engine?” Wen Di asked.
Bian Cheng’s attention was temporarily diverted by the question; good, he was about to have an allergic reaction to the picture. “The British cartoon?”
“Yes.” Wen Di switched WeChat accounts. It was already past midnight, and officially his birthday. His phone kept lighting up with ‘Happy Birthday’ messages, and he clicked into each one to reply. “My classmate loves watching cartoons, especially ‘Thomas and Friends.'”
Bian Cheng didn’t have a particular interest in cartoons, but he knew that Thomas the Tank Engine had a ton of popular merchandise.
“His family situation is a bit special. His parents never cared for him and often left him home alone,” Wen Di said. “Maybe because they found him odd, his classmates didn’t really like him either. So, he imagined a friend named Thomas. No matter where he was, what he did, how he got angry, or made strange requests, this person would always stay by his side.”
Just then, Jiang Nanze sent a birthday message, and as Wen Di replied, he continued, “When we’re kids, everyone would give names to dolls and toys, treat them as friends, and talk to them, so that’s pretty normal. But even after growing up, he still talks to Thomas, as if this person really exists, even when there are others around. So, most people think he’s crazy.”
“Why?” Bian Cheng asked. “Directly creating someone who meets your social needs sounds pretty efficient.”
Wen Di raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “It’s great that special people can understand each other.”
Another message popped up on the phone, from an unknown sender. But just from the long, essay-like format, he already knew who it was.
Wen Di clicked delete immediately. Ever since he sprayed He Wenxuan with pepper spray, the man wisely hadn’t shown up in person. Instead, he sent a message or made a phone call every now and then just to annoy him. According to Jiang Nanze, this guy even occasionally posted songs in his WeChat Moments—something like ‘Missed Lovers,’1This is the literal translation for it but I believe this is Accusefive’s song, which the English title is Somewhere in Time ‘Thinking of You Under the Stars and Moon,’2Another song from Accusefive I believe, the English title for this song is Miss You Day and Night ‘The Only One.’3Might be from Accusefive also but I also found the same song title from other singers Wen Di told Jiang Nanze to reply with ‘Say Goodbye and Breakup,’4A song from JC, the English title for this would be Be Apart to which Jiang Nanze replied, “Do it yourself.”
Wen Di stared at the screen of his mobile phone and murmured to himself: “May the scorpions and vipers of the Gobi desert smear venom on every inch of your skin, so that each step you take is filled with the agony and despair of hell. May the vengeful spirits in the depths of the ocean haunt you, piercing your chest with their cold nails and tearing your heart into pieces…”
Bian Cheng remained silent for a moment before asking, “Ex-boyfriend?”
The person on the bed didn’t answer. Just as Bian Cheng was about to press further, he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. Looking down, he saw that Wen Di had collapsed onto him, his breathing heavy, having fallen asleep again.
Soft black hair fell down, covering his forehead, leaving only the tip of his pale nose exposed. Bian Cheng watched for a moment, then stretched out his hand, gently letting the person in his arms lie down and pulled the blanket over him.
Wen Di stood above the vast red rock canyon.
Looking out in all directions, there wasn’t a soul in sight, only the deafening roar of engines in his ears. He remembered he hadn’t come alone, but there was no one around him.
Who was that person? Where did that person go?
As he was thinking anxiously, the feeling of weightlessness suddenly came over him like a tsunami, and in an instant, he was falling into the canyon.
Wen Di woke up suddenly.
His forehead was damp with sweat, and his back felt sticky. He touched his face and found it was no longer hot; it seemed like the fever had subsided.
After sweating it out, his body was relaxed and his mind cleared. The memories of last night flooded back. Slowly sitting up, Wen Di reached out, pressing a hand to his chest.
He was doomed! He was so doomed!
What kind of clingy pest was he, still harassing someone out of unsatisfied desire? And the worst part—he didn’t even manage to sleep with him! Did not manage!
He took a moment to catch his breath, trying to find a positive outlook. Looking on the bright side, there was still something good about last night.
He had enjoyed such a comfortable bath, slept in such a cozy bed, hugged and touched by a handsome guy. Although it was a bit of a pity that he didn’t get to sleep with him, after his huge embarrassing display, the guy didn’t leave. He even stayed to take care of him—what a good person!
Thinking of this, Wen Di looked around. Where is the caregiver?
The bed next to him had dents, as if someone had slept there. Wen Di breathed a sigh of relief—at least he hadn’t troubled the other person all night, at least the person managed to get some rest.
Where had that person gone now?
Wrapped in his robe, Wen Di got out of bed and faintly heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom. He pushed open the slightly ajar door and saw Bian Cheng standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie.
He was still wearing the same shirt from yesterday, though it seemed freshly ironed, crisp as new. The hotel’s service was indeed prompt. It seemed like a suit was part of Bian Cheng’s very identity—Wen Di had never seen him without a shirt and tie.
Wen Di’s gaze lingered on Bian Cheng for a moment before drifting toward the sink. Bian Cheng finished tying his tie, turned his head to glance at him, and picked up the watch on the table. “Still dizzy?”
Wen Di shook his head, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving Bian Cheng.
“I have a meeting with a student soon,” Bian Cheng said, “I’ll be leaving shortly.”
Wen Di nodded. “I’ve got an interview at a secondary school today.”
Bian Cheng looked at him, paused for a moment, then asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“Thinking of doing something,” Wen Di said, “but it doesn’t seem very appropriate.”
Bian Cheng stared at him, as if deep in thought. After a moment, he said, “If you want to do it, then just do it.”
Wen Di raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Of course.”
Wen Di then started walking toward him. After a night’s sleep, his hair was a bit messy, and now that the fever had subsided, his face revealed the pallor of someone just recovering from an illness. He stood in front of Bian Cheng, reaching out his hand…
Then it passed by him.
Bian Cheng froze, watching as that hand reached toward the sink—
—to grab the hotel’s complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste set.
“You don’t mind if I take this, do you?” Wen Di stuffed the box into his arms, and casually took the soap by the faucet as well. “You paid for the room, and I feel a bit bad about it, but I’ve run out of toothpaste. The new one I ordered online hasn’t arrived yet; the shipping’s too slow…” Wen Di paused, looked up at him, and asked, “Do you want it?”
“No.”
“Alright.”
Wen Di clutched the box, thinking about how to carry it all out, when Bian Cheng walked past him and walked out of the bathroom. After a moment, he returned with the bag that had held the bath bomb from yesterday and handed it to Wen Di. “There’s also a disposable shower cap and a comb. Do you want them?”
Wen Di nodded blankly. Bian Cheng opened the drawer, took out the small box containing the shower cap and comb, and stuffed it in the plastic bag.
Wen Di stared at his hands. For some reason, the gesture made him feel grateful. Holding the bag, he walked out of the bedroom. His sweater and coat were still in the living room.
Bian Cheng stayed in the bedroom. After Wen Di finished changing and came back out, Bian Cheng stared at the robe on the couch for a long moment, unable to resist picking it up and carrying it to the bathroom to place it with the used towel.
Wen Di’s face started heating up again—perhaps his illness was making a comeback.
“Are you heading to the school?” Bian Cheng asked. “If it’s on the way, I can give you a ride.”
“Sure,” Wen Di said, quickly adding, “Thank you.”
Bian Cheng nodded, picked up the room card and prepared to go out.
Wen Di followed him. “Really, thank you.”
“Once is enough.”
“There’s more than one thing to thank you for,” Wen Di said, stepping out behind him as the door beeped and locked. “Thank you for treating me… uh… to a bath.” It still felt a little odd to say. “Thanks for taking care of me last night,” he added, lifting the bag, “and thanks for letting me take this.”
“What’s there to thank me for?” Bian Cheng asked as they walked down the hallway toward the elevator.
“Some people think taking hotel toiletries is…” Wen Di paused in front of the elevator, searching for the right words, “low class?”
“Who thinks that?”
The elevator dinged, and as the doors slid open, a young man wearing glasses appeared in front of him.
Wen Di’s eyes widened in shock.
It couldn’t be such a coincidence! What unspeakable and unforgivable sin did he commit to see his ex-boyfriend on his birthday?
He Wenxuan clearly hadn’t expected to see him here either. His scorching gaze pierced through the lenses, scanning Wen Di from head to toe before shifting to the person standing next to him.
Wen Di was all too familiar with that look—resentment, anger, bitterness. What was there to be angry about? What business was it of his if Wen Di got a hotel room?
Bian Cheng glanced at the two of them and said, “Aren’t you going in?”
Wen Di hesitated for a moment, then suddenly reached out and held Bian Cheng’s arm.
Bian Cheng turned his head in confusion. Wen Di raised his face, leaned in close, as if going in for a kiss, and whispered, “Do me a favor.”
Bian Cheng didn’t respond but didn’t pull his arm away either. Wen Di held onto him and led him into the elevator without looking at He Wenxuan’s expression. Anyway, with He Wenxuan’s background and upbringing, he’d force himself to maintain a calm facade, but Wen Di still caught sight of how tightly He Wenxuan was gripping his briefcase.
The minute in the elevator stretched on endlessly. Wen Di’s heart was in his throat, terrified that Bian Cheng might suddenly ask, ‘What on earth are you doing?’
Fortunately, nothing went wrong, and the elevator stopped. He Wenxuan strode out with large strides.
Wen Di glared at his retreating figure, wishing that the curse in his heart would come down across the room, until Bian Cheng nudged his arm. Only then did Wen Di realize he was still clinging tightly to Bian Cheng.
“I’m going to check out,” Bian Cheng said.
Reluctantly, Wen Di let go, his mind racing for an explanation for the little scene he had just pulled. He’d only known the professor for a short time and the long journey had just begun, so it wasn’t the best time to bring up an ex.
After checking out, the valet brought the car around. Bian Cheng called the daydreaming Wen Di to get into the car, and he climbed into the passenger seat, plastic bag in hand. The faint scent of Darjeeling tea inside the car did little to ease his anxiety.
The car started, and he was thinking with his head down when a voice suddenly rang out beside him: “Ex-boyfriend?”
Wen Di blinked, hesitating as he sneaked a glance at Bian Cheng’s expression, which remained calm. “That obvious?”
He had seen Wen Di standing at the door arguing with him—of course, that was something he couldn’t say, so he’d just attribute it to strong observational skills. Bian Cheng asked, “Do you still care about him that much?”
Wen Di was confused. “What does caring have to do with anything?”
“You had this… look of vengeance earlier,” Bian Cheng remarked. “Do you really hate him that much?”
“Of course,” Wen Di said, “I’m not a Bodhisattva.”
Bian Cheng looked ahead at the traffic, lost in thought.
The phone vibrated, Wen Di glanced at the screen and rolled his eyes.
A text from an unknown number: [Who was that guy just now?]
Wen Di ignored it, and soon another message came through: [I didn’t expect this, you’ve learned how to have one-night stands now.]
What a lunatic! Who he slept with was none of his business.
Grinding his teeth, Wen Di replied: [Who the hell had a one-night stand? That’s my boyfriend. Stop bothering me from now on.]
The other side fell silent. Wen Di felt a surge of triumphant pleasure. Who said that meeting an ex meant you had to remain calm and composed to show you’ve truly moved on? Winning felt great—even if it was a childish pleasure, it was also a pleasure.
Then, a sudden realization hit him: Why hadn’t he done this sooner?
If he had just claimed to have a boyfriend earlier and told He Wenxuan to get lost, he wouldn’t have been harassed by texts for so long.
T/N: Title is from Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 1, Scene 1. The literal translation for the title ‘爱神是孩子，因而常会弄错选择’ would be God of Love5爱神 is also Eros but I’m using God of Love as the original line from Shakespeare is Love is a child, and therefore often makes the wrong choices. ’
Good news, update now is on every weekdays, most update will be posted at 00:00 am GMT +8, but if I’m super busy, it’ll be on 5:00 pm!
