PD Chapter 5: The Fool with Money, He Linzhou

After sending off his last patient, Wen Xunchuan took off his glasses, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair to rub his tired eyes.

His phone buzzed a few times in his pocket—someone sent him a WeChat message. He pulled out his phone and checked.

• Brother Chuan, coming to Forbidden Color tonight for some fun?

• It’s been a while. I kinda miss you.

• [Corgi-wagging-its-butt.gif]

Wen Xunchuan clicked on the other person’s profile picture and looked through his selfies in his Moments feed, finally managing to summon up some scattered memories about this person. The cute, mixed-race kid was someone he’d met at a bar just before a business trip last month. He liked the kid’s personality, and most importantly, he was clearly someone who knew how to have fun—perfect for mutually keeping each other entertained.

Wen Xunchuan replied with a quick [See you tonight], then got up and moved behind a screen to change into his regular clothes. His gaze lingered on the collar of the white coat he’d just taken off, lying on the small bed. After a moment’s thought, he decided to fold it up and take it home for a wash.

He knocked on the door of the adjacent consultation room. “Zhixu, are you there?”

A deep, mellow male voice quickly responded, “I’m here. Come in.”

Pushing the door open, he asked casually, “Not done yet?”

“Yeah.” Wen Zhixu, bent over his desk, looked up briefly. “Need something?”

“Kind of. Are you busy this weekend? If not, let me borrow your car for a couple of days. I need to head home tomorrow night to deliver some stuff to my mom.” Wen Xunchuan sat across from him and glanced at the consultation log by his hand. “What time is it? Still working overtime?”

“A patient came in late, delayed me a bit.” Wen Zhixu took out his car keys from his pocket and slid them over. “Where’s your car?”

Thinking of his car’s spider-webbed rear windshield, Wen Xunchuan couldn’t help but sigh. “In the shop.”

“Again?” Wen Zhixu raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s like you bought that car for the repair shop.”

“…” Wen Xunchuan had nothing to say. Looking at the car keys in front of him, he changed the subject. “I’ll come pick it up from you tomorrow, then. If you give me the keys now, how will you get home?”

Without a word, Wen Zhixu finished writing the last line in his logbook, closed it, and went behind the screen. “You’ll take me home.”

“Alright.” Wen Xunchuan spun the ring attached to the car keychain twice around his finger and looked toward the tall figure partially obscured by the screen. “Why are you heading home so early? Wanna go to the bar with me tonight?”

“Nope.” Wen Zhixu took off his white coat, hung it on the rack, and put on his jacket. He pulled out a bottle of quick-drying hand sanitizer from a drawer, squeezed some onto his hands, and rubbed them together. “Chunmei is still young. She needs company.”

Wen Xunchuan, unbothered, picked up the sanitizer bottle he’d put down, squirted some into his own hands, and while rubbing them together, shot a sidelong glance at Wen Zhixu. For what felt like the ten thousandth time, he griped, “My goddaughter’s so cute, and you gave her such a tacky name. Are you even her real dad?”

Chunmei was Wen Zhixu’s real daughter, and Wen Xunchuan had watched her grow up since she was little, so he shamelessly claimed the title of godfather.

“Stepdad,” Wen Zhixu replied, putting the sanitizer back in the drawer as they walked side by side out of the clinic. “Yesterday, she tore up the flowers my mom brought over, and she got a solid scolding for it. She’s been ignoring me all day. I’ll grab her some snacks to make up for it.”

“Parenthood’s no joke.” Wen Xunchuan sighed.

By the time the two of them walked out of the outpatient building, the sky had darkened completely.

Wen Xunchuan frowned and continued sharing the strange encounters he’d had with patients today. “…This guy dropped his pants, and his phimosis was so bad you couldn’t even see the glans. When I finally pulled it back, ugh, the buildup of old smegma—two layers of masks couldn’t block the smell.”

Wen Zhixu couldn’t help but chuckle. “Didn’t that straighten you out?”

“Have you turned straight after all these years?” Wen Xunchuan glanced at him and teased, “Considering how much we’re exposed to this stuff, it’s a miracle our libidos are still intact.”

Wen Zhixu clicked his tongue. “You’re talking as if the two of us have done anything.”

“Sorry, I don’t go for guys.” Wen Xunchuan joked.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out behind them. “Lin—Wen Xunchuan!”

The two turned around at the sound, and they saw the person leaning against a pillar outside the outpatient lobby. He took the cigarette from his mouth, flicked it to the ground, and started striding toward them.

Both Wen Xunchuan and Wen Zhixu instinctively frowned.

“Go back,” Wen Zhixu said sternly.

“?” He Linzhou paused, hesitantly pointing at himself, unsure. “You mean me?”

“Yes.”

He Linzhou took a step back, looking confused. “W-What?”

“Pick up that cigarette butt.” Wen Zhixu glanced behind him. “There’s a trash can five meters to your right.”

He Linzhou glanced in the direction he’d pointed, face heating up. He thought about picking it up but felt too embarrassed, so he gritted his teeth and said, “I’m not picking it up. What are you gonna do about it?”

Wen Xunchuan chuckled, shrugged, and went over to pick up the cigarette butt, extinguishing it in a nearby trash can.

After tossing it, he turned to He Linzhou and held out his hand.

He Linzhou looked at his open palm, utterly baffled. “…What are you doing?”

Wen Xunchuan pointed at the pillar he’d been leaning on, his expression stern. “No littering. Fine of 500 yuan.”

He Linzhou chuckled, immediately pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet without counting it, and slapped it into Wen Xunchuan’s hand.

Wen Xunchuan looked at him expressionlessly, lips slightly pursed, saying nothing, with his hand still extended.

He Linzhou, annoyed, took out two more bills, slapped them into his hand, and looked at him with a cocky glint in his eye.

Wen Xunchuan still didn’t react.

Frustrated, He Linzhou glared at him, “Are you sick or something?”

Finally, Wen Zhixu couldn’t hold back and started laughing. Seeing this, Wen Xunchuan’s expression softened, a mocking smile now on his face as he looked at He Linzhou.

He Linzhou scowled. “What are you laughing at?”

Wen Xunchuan glanced down at the wad of cash in his hand, then tucked it back into He Linzhou’s chest pocket as he brushed past him, muttering under his breath with a touch of disdain, “Figures, dumb and loaded.”

Angered by the insult, He Linzhou retorted at his back, “Weren’t you the one who asked for money?!”

Without turning back, Wen Xunchuan pointed behind him. “Look up.”

Following his gaze, He Linzhou turned and saw a sign on the pillar that read, in large characters: Outpatient Building.

Damn it!

A fine for littering?

Fine your own damn mother!

When he turned back around, the two of them had already disappeared from sight.

Only then did he realize he’d foolishly waited there all afternoon, and hadn’t even had the chance to discuss his business—he’d basically set himself up to be messed with.