UI CH 4

After a moment, the stuffy air forced him to lift his head. He glanced at the still-sleeping man. His only consolation was that he’d woken first. What had happened couldn’t be undone, but if he was quiet enough, he could slip away unnoticed.

At least this way, he wouldn’t have to face him, sparing himself some awkwardness.

Throwing back the covers, Shen Ran carefully eased his legs out of bed. As he sat on the edge, wincing prepared to stand, he heard the rustle of sheets behind him.

Every muscle from his shoulders to his back tensed. Before he could decide whether to turn around, an arm snaked around his waist, a palm gently resting on his lower abdomen. Then, a husky, slightly languid voice sounded.
“Why are you up so early?”

Zhao Jiyu buried his face in Shen Ran’s waist, nuzzling the warm skin.

Shen Ran stared fixedly at the wall, frozen in place. After a moment, Zhao Jiyu sensed his tension. He opened his eyes again and noticed Shen Ran’s fingers gripping the edge of the bed tightly. Realizing what was happening, he deliberately shifted his hand lower, gauging Shen Ran’s quickened breathing with amusement.

Before Zhao Jiyu could say anything more, Shen Ran pushed his hand away, stood up, and quickly gathered his clothes from the floor, turning his back to him as he dressed.

Despite Shen Ran’s attempt to appear nonchalant, his movements betrayed his discomfort. Zhao Jiyu propped himself up on an elbow, watching him with amusement until he was pulling on his socks. Then, he decided to offer a casual reminder: “I didn’t have a chance to clean you up last night. Don’t you want to shower before you go?”

The words were like a thin blade slicing through Shen Ran’s already frayed nerves. He barely managed to keep his composure, replying coldly,
“No need.”

He put on his shoes, opened the door, and left. Zhao Jiyu watched his stiff back until the door slammed shut. Then, he fell back onto the pillows, a smile playing on his lips as he stared at the ceiling.

“Interesting.”

Lacing his fingers behind his head, Zhao Jiyu replayed the previous night’s events. It had been a long time since he’d had such a satisfying release, especially when he’d wanted a second round.

Shen Ran was clearly exhausted, but a taunting remark had spurred him on, and Shen Ran had stubbornly pushed through until he was finally spent.

The memory of Shen Ran’s flushed face and defiant expression brought a smile to Zhao Jiyu’s lips. He pulled the covers over his head.

After lingering in bed for another ten minutes, his phone, resting on the nightstand, began to ring. He reached for it, glanced at the screen, and answered.

“Still asleep?”
The voice on the other end was hoarse, indicating a recent awakening.

Zhao Jiyu lazily grunted in response, rolling over onto the pillow Shen Ran had used, and said, “Spit it out.”

Undeterred by his brusqueness, Huang Yipeng continued,
“What time did you get home last night?”

“Didn’t. Slept at a hotel.”

“I didn’t mean to ditch you. Linlin gets scared during storms.”

“Whatever,” Zhao Jiyu said.

He and Huang Yipeng had been close friends since childhood, and even if he hadn’t called to explain, Zhao Jiyu would have understood his girlfriend’s anxieties.
“I’m going back to sleep.”

Hearing him about to hang up, Huang Yipeng quickly added, “Wait, which hotel are you at? Didn’t your stepmother rat you out for not coming home last night?”

It was Zhao Jiyu’s fifteen-year-old half-brother’s birthday.

Originally, the celebration was to be held at a hotel banquet hall, but due to the typhoon, they had opted for a smaller gathering at home with close relatives. Zhao Jiyu, the eldest son, had not only skipped the event but had also spent the evening at a gay bar with his best friend.

“I don’t care if she did,”
Zhao Jiyu scoffed.
“The old man’s been in The Netherlands all month. He can’t control me.”

Huang Yipeng snorted.
“Your stepmom’s no pushover. Be careful. If you go to those places again, keep it low-key.”

Though Huang didn’t spell it out, Zhao Jiyu understood the warning: Don’t let your sexuality get exposed.

“Enough. I’m done talking.”

Zhao Jiyu hung up, tossed his phone onto the neighboring pillow, and hugged Shen Ran’s pillow tightly to his chest. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift back to sleep.

---

When Shen Ran left the hotel, he was met with torrential rain.

He’d left his umbrella at the first bar last night. Now, not only was he without one, but the nearest bus stop was a kilometer away. His only option was a taxi, but in this weather, the fare from the hotel to his apartment would cost at least 60–70 yuan—enough for two days’ worth of meals.

The thought of last night’s drinking expenses made his wallet ache. The only silver lining was that the convenience store where he worked was closed today due to the typhoon, so he didn’t have to call in sick.

His body throbbed from the waist down, as if rubbed raw inside and out. Standing was agony, but remembering Zhao Jiyu’s refreshed demeanor when he woke up, Shen Ran cursed himself for last night’s recklessness.

Reluctantly, he booked a ride. After ten minutes, a driver arrived. Shen Ran carefully slid into the back seat, adjusting to ease the discomfort. But the driver sped through the rain like he was racing to the grave. Every bump jolted his soreness, forcing him to grit his teeth. Leaning back, he stared out the window, exhaustion soon pulling him into a daze. The driver had to shake him awake when they arrived.

His apartment building was 300–400 meters from the complex’s gate, down a narrow path impassable by car. Shen Ran trudged through the rain, arriving soaked to the skin. Thankfully, his roommate was out. He headed straight to the bathroom to shower.

The landlord had warned of water and power outages, but both were restored. Under the hot spray, he lingered until the warmth eased his tension.

While drying off, he noticed vivid finger marks on his thighs and a trail of bite marks across his chest—cruel reminders of last night’s absurdity. His face darkened.

At noon, he microwaved instant noodles and collapsed back into bed. That afternoon, the doorbell rang. Waking with a pounding headache, he stumbled to the door to find his friend Zheng Mingjin.

After propping his wet umbrella in the bathroom, Zheng Mingjin set a bag on the table.
“Mom sent you dumplings and snacks,” he said, unpacking items.

Shen Ran ruffled his sleep-mussed hair, yawning. Zheng frowned.
“You okay? You’re flushed.”

“Huh?” Shen Ran blinked sluggishly.

Zheng pressed a hand to his forehead.
“You’re burning up. Did you get caught in the rain last night?”

---

Shen Ran stayed silent. Zheng Mingjin went to his medicine drawer, fetched a thermometer and fever reducing medicine, then poured a glass of water in the kitchen. Returning, he found Shen Ran already seated at the table, nibbling on a salted egg yolk pastry.

Though Shen Ran’s face was flushed, his appetite seemed intact. Zheng Mingjin handed him the thermometer. As Shen Ran tugged his collar to tuck it under his armpit, Zheng froze, staring at his neck.
“What happened here?”

Still chewing the pastry, Shen Ran didn’t react at first. Only when Zheng Mingjin’s finger brushed his throat did he remember. He quickly covered the spot.
“Mosquito bites from last night. Got a few.”

Zheng Mingjin frowned, skepticism unclear. Shen Ran changed the subject, grabbing a seaweed snack from the bag. When the thermometer beeped, it read 38.6°C.

“Take the medicine,”
Zheng Mingjin urged, passing him the water.
“No one’s here to look after you. Want to crash at my place?”

Shen Ran swallowed the pills, draining the entire glass.
“No, your parents and sister are home. Don’t wanna bother them.”

Since Shen Ran seemed stable and had eaten, Zheng Mingjin didn’t push. Retrieving his umbrella from the bathroom, he reminded Shen to call if needed.

After seeing Zheng Mingjin out, Shen Ran crawled back into bed. He slept until 5 a.m. the next day. Checking his temperature, it had dropped to 37.8°C.

The soreness in his lower back had faded, leaving only a faint ache there. He showered, boiled the dumplings Zheng Mingjin had brought, and finished eating by 7 a.m.

The rain had stopped. Outside, the neighborhood lay littered with typhoon debris. Sanitation workers cleared fallen branches as early commuters trudged through. Shen Ran slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed to the convenience store.

His morning shift coworker had called in sick. After changing into his uniform, Shen Ran started cleaning. Routine tasks now felt exhausting—especially hauling water from the nearby restroom to mop. His back protested, and worst of all, Zhao Jiyu’s face kept flickering into his mind.

What happened that night was a mistake. He wanted to forget. Clenching his jaw, he pushed through until his colleague arrived at noon. During his break, he checked WeChat and found a friend request.

The profile picture showed a paper airplane soaring under stormy clouds. No note accompanied the request. Shen Ran accepted without thought, then switched to other messages. By afternoon, he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Over the following days, he cycled between work and his rented room. The memory of that night faded, and his body fully healed.