MW CH63

Chapter 63: Such a Good Kid

In the dim theater, the big screen played a flimsy rom-com—laughs erupted now and then.

Not that funny—but herd mentality kicks in: they laugh, you laugh, no reason needed.

December—wedged between National Day and winter break—an awkward month. Big films either done or pending—options slim: comedies or artsy stuff.

Artsy’s too slow, too bleak—I wanted cheer—so I picked a love-laced comedy.

Mid-watch, I glanced at Mochuan—figured he’d be bored, not the comedy type. Nope—riveted, so into it he didn’t catch me staring.

This can’t be his first theater trip, right?

Plot hit its peak—laughter boomed. Mochuan didn’t double over like the rest—but lips curved—he got the joke.

Even if not his first—probably his first in eight years.

Thought hit—if not for me, as “Pinjia,” he might never step in here again—couldn’t help but feel lucky.

Good thing I smashed “Pinewood Stream” on a whim—or I wouldn’t have sulked off to Pengge.

No—not sulking—main goal was him…

Musing—fumbled in the dark—gripped his hand.

His smile lingered—turned—movie chaos blaring—eyes deepened—flipped his hand—fingers locked tight.

Endgame—heroine lands her guy—happy ever after. Classic comedy close—safe, meh, no fireworks.

Lights up—filed out slow with the crowd.

“…His face—doesn’t scream settling down,” Mochuan piped up—like everyone—itching to debrief.

Met the lead actor at an event—gossip nailed it: flirt king—ten minutes to whispers and room keys.

Mochuan’s gut’s sharp, kinda…

Nah—if it were, he wouldn’t peg me as a playboy.

“What’s my face say?” Leaned in—whispered. “Settling type?”

Eyes roamed my face—mock-serious pause. “Long eyes, dark pupils—lips upturned—peach-blossom life—but alas, fate’s got a Kalavinka—pecked ‘em all away.”

“Tch, this bird…” Teasing backfired—his gaze chilled—low “Hm?”—scrambled. “So thoughtful!”

Eyes warmed—he looked away, pleased.

Dinner spot—Haicheng’s tallest tower. 500-plus meters up—neon sprawl, traffic snaked—everything tiny. My place’s view’s decent—this beats it.

“High,” Mochuan marveled—window-gazing. “Humans—amazing—thrive on plateaus, nest in concrete jungles—always carving a spot.”

Swept the car-line below. “Endure ice—stand heat—eat anything—wield tools—how’s Earth not ours?”

He half-smiled. “Humans—impressive—bit cocky—thinking they own it.”

Grinned. “You don’t buy it?”

“Always puzzled—why outsiders call feats ‘conquest.’ ‘Conquer oceans,’ ‘conquer peaks’—this, that… Then saw—they put themselves above all.”

“Totally unlike Cenglu. Nature—unconquerable. All life’s Earth’s guests. It lets us stay—we stay. No invite—tsunamis, quakes, eruptions—one disaster wipes us out.”

“So—revere nature—stay humble.”

Fair point. Dinosaurs ruled once—gone in a blink.

Guests come and go—Earth endures. Kings crave eternity—centuries later, a footnote. Most folks—zero trace.

“You’re right—here’s to nature.” Raised my lemonade—clinked.

He smiled—lifted his. “To nature.”

Dinner’s near the theater—just a road apart—car stayed parked underground.

Left Mochuan curbside—crossed alone. Passed a flower shop—paused—bought red roses.

First date—needs flowers, right?

Set ‘em on the passenger seat—drove to our split-off—saw him cornered by two trendy girls, chattering.

Parked behind—grabbed the roses—rounded to the front.

Close—caught ‘em. “…No biggie—bring your friend—we’ll treat…”

“No thanks—don’t drink,” Mochuan declined soft—spotted me—blinked. “Where’d the flowers come from?”

Girls turned—saw my roses—froze. Glanced at each other—shock, then dawning.

“Uh—boyfriend? Sorry—crashing your date—leaving now.”

“Bye-bye—happy century, hot guys!”

Awkward—bolted off—giggled, peeked back.

“What’d they say?” Handed him the roses.

He cradled ‘em—fingers brushed petals. “Some night thing—only good-lookers allowed—asked if I’m in.”

Party for pretty faces? Kids these days—wild shit.

Shook my head—laughed—slid in.

Elevator climbed—us two—faint rose scent mixed with incense—heady, pheromone-like—stoked desire.

Full belly, lust follows—ancients weren’t wrong.

Counted seconds—calmed my pulse. Eighteenth floor—he stepped out—I trailed.

His fingerprint’s in the lock—one press—door clicked open.

Inside—dark—city glow seeped through sheer curtains.

He walked ahead—no lights. I shut the door—no lights.

Two steps—he turned, puzzled. “Why no—”

Like a beast coiled in shadow—I pounced—pinned him to the wall.

“…lights.” Hands hung—last word sighed slow.

Closed in—voice shook—thrilled. “Humans can’t tame nature—but you can tame me.”

Kissing from the entry—frantic—craving—stumbled through the living room—hit the sofa.

Leather—soft—I sprawled—eyes adjusted—saw him clear.

Flowers—gone. Suit jacket—gone. Tie loose—shirt rumpled—breath ragged—prim-gone-wild vibe.

One knee on the sofa—reached for his vest—I stopped him.

“Don’t…” Wound his tie—pulled down—panted. “Like this.”

Bai Qifeng’s mess—unsettled. New Year looms—He Nanyuan might hit Haicheng post-holiday. Talked with Mochuan—next Pengge trip’s January.

Months meatless—gorging’s a must.

Sipping’s for suckers!

Sofa—window—bed—raved all night—marked the place.

End—I’m spent—sweat soaked—hair, lashes, everything—drained dry—still clung to him.

He loves me on top—Joyous Buddha style—intimate—brutal.

“No…” Instinct—rejected—arms locked him—clawed his back.

He paused—fingers threaded my sweaty hair—too agreeable. “…End it, okay?”

Mouth gaped—gulped air. “No…”

Same words—new meaning.

Hugged me—glanced out. “Dawn’s close.”

Clung tighter—nose to his shoulder—third shaky “No.”

Bit my ear—muffled. “Then keep going.”

Woke—next afternoon—living room bright—no trace of last night.

Table—lush roses—scent hit—flashed to the frenzy—ears burned.

Sat up—looked over.

Egg fried rice—wrapped—chopsticks pinned a note—I’m gone—rest well—eat.

Grabbed it—kissed “Mochuan” with a smile.

Winter break hit fast. Mochuan told He Nanyuan about He Mingbo—left it to him—meet now or not.

He Nanyuan chose now.

Shannan to Haicheng—thousands of kilos. I’d buy him a business-class ticket—Mochuan nixed it—spoils kids.

“Don’t fuss—let him train it. Used to think he’s too young—can’t handle it—overthought. Near adult—treat him like one.”

He said it—I dropped it.

Day he arrived—I timed it—hit the station.

Crowds waited curbside—He Nanyuan stood out. Cenglu garb—ponytail—1.8-ish meters—crane among chickens.

Passersby stared—he didn’t care—cold—nose-in-air—like a proud tribal prince.

Pulled up—hopped out—grabbed his bag. “Rough trip—tired?”

He beat me—lugged it to the back. “Fine.”

Opened the trunk—he hefted it in.

Back in—belted—set nav—he spoke. “Can I not stay at yours? My classmate… wants me at his.”

Asking my okay?

“You got classmates here?” Flattered—still checked.

“The Xia kid—led the grade revolt last time.”

“Oh—him.” Laundry guy.

Love him bonding with Xia—less bias on me—won’t block it.

“Cool—I’ll drop you.” Got the address—rerouted—headed there.

Shock—address landed in Haicheng’s ritzy villa zone.

Tsked—weird parents—sending a kid that far for school.

Snow fell—slow drivers—peak hour—traffic hell. Hour’s drive—nearly two.

At the gate—spotted a small figure—squatting—phoning—bundled in black down—clear umbrella up—like a glum mushroom.

Pulled up—He Nanyuan rolled down—before words—kid’s voice raged. “…Fifty pulls—no SSR—fair? Bah! Trash—scamming girls’ cash! Girls’ money grow on trees? Huh? Shameless game—spit on you!”

Done—stilled—saw He Nanyuan.

“…You’re on a call—didn’t interrupt,” He Nanyuan said.

“No big call.” Back door swung—kid climbed in.

Likable—opposite He Nanyuan—how’d they click? Then again—me and Mochuan—poles apart—still worked.

Kid guided—sweet “Bro”s all the way.

Said call me “Bai Yin”—he balked—rude. “Call me Bro—him Uncle—generational mess, no?”

Kid perked. “Uncle’s Mochuan?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t call him that,” He Nanyuan cut in—sharp. “Don’t want trouble for him.”

“…”

Just thought he’s softening—back at it.

Rearview glance—he turned—window out.

Feels… he knows something? Caught us in the temple—or guessed? Else—why the shift?

Car went quiet—air thickened. Soon—arrived—they hopped out.

“Bro—no, Uncle—bye—drive safe!” Kid waved big—cold out—smile outshone summer sun.

Such a good kid.

Window down—waved back. “Bye.” Turned to He Nanyuan—contrast dulled me. “Tell your uncle you’re safe.”

“Mm.” He didn’t even look at me.

Little brat.