ALCSRB Chapter 81

The atmosphere froze in an instant.

Jiang Mingyi thought maybe he hadn’t made himself clear enough, so he repeated, “Do you know what I mean by liking someone as a lover? It’s when one person has deep affection for another—it’s the kind of liking that’s called love.”

While he was over here defining the meaning of love, the man sitting across from him had fallen completely silent. That usually cold and distant face showed the faintest crack in its composure.

Jiang Mingyi didn’t notice it, but he could sense that the man in front of him seemed to be getting angry—so he quickly stopped talking.

Pei Mingyue’s gaze was cold—so cold it could be described as grim—as he stared at Jiang Mingyi. His tone was icy enough to make Jiang Mingyi instinctively shiver.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?”

The completely emotionless tone left Jiang Mingyi momentarily speechless.

The next second, Pei Mingyue suddenly picked up his phone. With just one glance, he noticed that Shen Xingyan’s contact was on the screen.

Jiang Mingyi: “…”

Just as the call was about to go through, Jiang Mingyi reacted quickly and slapped his hand over the phone to hang up the call.

“Um…” Jiang Mingyi shrank back slightly from the obvious chill radiating off Pei Mingyue. “Why are you calling my brother?”

Pei Mingyue didn’t even look at him, his voice now tinged with disdain. “To have Shen Xingyan take you to the hospital. If you’re sick, it’s better to get treated early.”

“…”

Jiang Mingyi finally understood—Pei Mingyue thought everything he’d just said was utter nonsense.

He’d known this wasn’t going to go smoothly.

He was prepared for it—especially since he’d opened with a straight fastball question. No one could possibly accept something like that easily.

He wasn’t trying to pressure anyone. He just wanted to confirm something first—like setting a safeguard before revealing the real secret.

But clearly, Pei Mingyue couldn’t agree with his actions. In fact, he seemed completely dismissive, even unwilling to entertain the conversation.

Jiang Mingyi felt a headache coming on—but it also stirred up his fighting spirit.

“What I said just now was heartfelt, not nonsense,” Jiang Mingyi said solemnly, his eyes sincere and unwavering. “What I just asked is connected to the secret I’m about to tell you. But if you truly won’t answer me, Pei-ge, can I at least be allowed to interpret your silence in my own way?”

Pei Mingyue stared into his bright, clear eyes, and for a moment, he saw a flash of Pei Shiqing’s face.

He furrowed his brows but said nothing.

Being stared at like that made Jiang Mingyi feel immense pressure, but at this point, backing down was no longer an option.

He adjusted his posture, sitting up straight as he looked seriously at the man radiating coldness across from him. The timid flicker in his eyes was now replaced with focused determination.

Then, slowly and clearly, Jiang Mingyi threw another direct pitch:
“I hope you do like Pei Shiqing—because he likes you too.”

He knew he probably shouldn’t be the one to tear away the veil of secret affection on Pei Shiqing’s behalf. But he also understood too well the pain of unspoken love—especially when he saw the helplessness and despair Pei Shiqing accidentally let slip in his eyes again and again.

To the person involved, that kind of love felt like a taboo, something that shouldn’t exist.

But it did exist.

And it brought both sweetness—and suffering—in equal measure.

He understood the beauty and the pain of having a secret crush—just like when he had first come to terms with his own feelings for Shen Xingyan. Back then, he too had felt confused and helpless.

But the path between him and Shen Xingyan had never been particularly rough or winding.

Pei Mingyue and Pei Shiqing, however, were a different story entirely.

In the eyes of others, they were unmistakably brothers—real brothers, with their names on the same household registry, born of the same parents.

What lay between them was a chasm as vast and uncrossable as the heavens.

For them to be together, someone would have to fill that abyss—someone would have to bridge the unfathomable gap.

At that moment, Jiang Mingyi felt the crushing weight on his shoulders.

Because only he could be the one to pierce through that false veil of “brotherhood” and redefine the truth of their relationship.

“He told you?” The man who had been silent finally broke the stillness after this one sentence.

Jiang Mingyi took a deep breath, letting fresh air fill his lungs, slowly clearing away the suffocating pressure.

“Yes,” he answered firmly, nodding with conviction. He met Pei Mingyue’s gaze head-on. Those dark eyes were unreadable, deep as a well, but when he gave his answer, there was a subtle tremor in them—so slight it was barely there.

So slight that, had Jiang Mingyi not been staring directly at him, he might’ve missed it completely.

But that tiny flicker was enough to fill him with wild hope.

He wrestled down the excitement in his chest, forced his voice into calm and steady syllables, and said:
“Pei-ge, you see him every day—you mean to tell me you haven’t noticed anything?”

Pei Mingyue gave a quiet, bitter scoff.

How could he not have noticed?

It was because he noticed, that he had to keep his own feelings on a tight leash.

He couldn’t let Pei Shiqing sink deeper into this misguided affection.

They could be brothers—but they could never, ever be lovers.

It wasn’t that he feared being judged or criticized. What he feared was the boy he loved—the boy he cherished—being subjected to scorn, to ridicule, to those filthy, degrading stares and whispers.

He wanted Pei Shiqing to always be pure, always be happy.
Not someone scarred and torn apart by vile words and cruel eyes.

When Jiang Mingyi saw the mocking expression on Pei Mingyue’s face, his heart skipped a beat. Then came the cold words:

“So what?”

The rhetorical question made Jiang Mingyi freeze for a few seconds.

Pei Mingyue let out a scornful laugh.
“You think we’re like you and Shen Xingyan? You two aren’t real brothers—you can fall in love, love each other without limits, freely bask in the sweetness of romance. You don’t have to care what anyone thinks. You can be open, unapologetic.”

“But him? Have you thought about what he’ll face if this gets out?”

Pei Mingyue didn’t care about himself. What he always cared about was whether Pei Shiqing would be hurt.

Jiang Mingyi was stunned by that speech. For a moment, his brain got stuck on one thought: How does he know about me and Shen Xingyan?

But then his mind shifted back to the heart of the matter.

His rosy lips trembled from emotion. He clenched his left hand hard enough to hurt—using the pain to calm himself—before throwing out a third fastball, straight and hard:

“That’s exactly why I wanted to tell you this secret—
You and Pei Shiqing aren’t actually brothers.”

---

An hour had passed before Shen Xingyan finally received the call.

He rushed back to the Western restaurant, only to find that Pei Mingyue was already gone. The only person left sitting there was a slender figure, alone and quiet.

Shen Xingyan strode over and immediately noticed the heavy look on Jiang Mingyi’s face.

“What happened? You don’t look too happy,” he joked lightly. But when he saw the completely empty table, a crease appeared between his brows.

Jiang Mingyi slowly looked up, his expression deeper and more serious than Shen Xingyan had ever seen—so serious that it made his heart ache for him.

That kind of expression simply didn’t belong on Jiang Mingyi’s face, and yet, it was unmistakably there.

Shen Xingyan immediately grasped his hand, his voice low and steady:
“Did Pei Mingyue do something to you?”

On one side was his best friend; on the other, the person he loved. Without hesitation, the scale tipped toward Jiang Mingyi.

Shen Xingyan looked deadly serious—if Jiang Mingyi had said yes, he probably would’ve marched out and beaten Pei Mingyue to a pulp on the spot.

Jiang Mingyi leaned into him as he sat down, resting his head slowly against Shen Xingyan’s shoulder. His voice was soft:
“No, he didn’t.”

“Then what happened?” Shen Xingyan wrapped an arm around him, holding him close.

Jiang Mingyi’s cheek rested against Shen Xingyan’s chest, and in his ears, he could hear the steady thump of the man’s heartbeat—calm and rhythmic. It soothed his unsettled heart.

He had dumped the entire truth about Pei Shiqing’s origins onto Pei Mingyue. He wasn’t sure if Pei Mingyue truly believed him or was just brushing him off with a promise to “look into it.”

But that was the best foundation he could lay for Pei Shiqing’s road to love.

He hoped it would be solid—something Pei Shiqing could walk forward on with peace of mind, step by step, further and further, happier and happier.

“I just missed you,” Jiang Mingyi said, burying the secrets in his chest. He wrapped his arms around Shen Xingyan’s waist, voice full of sulky affection. “Why’d you take so long to get here?”

Shen Xingyan: “…”

There was a beat of silence before he replied,
“I was at the café next door waiting for your call.”

This time, it was Jiang Mingyi’s turn to fall silent.

A moment later, he muttered:
“Oh… so you never really left.”

“How could I possibly leave you alone with Pei Mingyue?” Shen Xingyan murmured, his chin gently rubbing against Jiang Mingyi’s forehead—intimate and tender. “If I wasn’t afraid you’d get mad, I would’ve gone back into the restaurant to sit with you.”

He could’ve snuck back in and taken a seat at the table next to theirs.

But he knew Jiang Mingyi wouldn’t be happy if he did that, so he compromised and went to the café next door instead.

A clenched fist thumped lightly against Shen Xingyan’s chest, and in a voice full of feigned complaint, Jiang Mingyi said:
“You bastard…”
How dare he hide a love confession in such a roundabout way.

Yes, to Jiang Mingyi, these words were exactly Shen Xingyan’s way of expressing love.

Compared to the cold and distant Pei Mingyue, Jiang Mingyi truly felt that Shen Xingyan was the perfect lover.

He never hid anything. When he liked someone, he showed it through straightforward actions and words. Jiang Mingyi didn’t need to guess or worry—he just had to openly accept Shen Xingyan’s affection.

He suddenly realized how much luckier he was than Pei Shiqing.

Though both relationships started with unspoken crushes, theirs hadn’t gone through any painful struggle—everything just naturally fell into place.

They say happiness comes from comparison, and while it might not be very kind to compare himself with a friend, he couldn’t help but feel he was incredibly fortunate.

The Shen family had adopted him, giving him an unbelievably close relationship with Shen Xingyan.

He had fallen for Shen Xingyan, and by pure luck, Shen Xingyan just so happened to like him too.

This kind of perfect ending made his heart bubble over with happiness.

And then there was Pei Shiqing. Why on earth did he like someone as cold and emotionless as Pei Mingyue?

What was so good about a man who was so calm it was almost inhuman, and who didn’t have the slightest sense of fun?

Jiang Mingyi tilted his head slightly, meeting Shen Xingyan’s gaze, and gave him a pure, unguarded smile.

Shen Xingyan was still the best.

Handsome, great body, and talented in a certain department—such an outstanding man was definitely worth liking.

Shen Xingyan looked at the smile on his face and couldn’t help but want to kiss him.

Just as he was about to lean in, Jiang Mingyi said joyfully, “I realized I like you a little more today.”

The kiss was interrupted. Shen Xingyan didn’t get angry, but his brows twitched at those words.

“Only a little?”

Sensing his dissatisfaction, Jiang Mingyi quickly added, “A little more than a little.”

But when he saw Shen Xingyan still looking unimpressed, he leaned in and gave him a quick kiss.

A light, fleeting touch like a dragonfly skimming the water’s surface.

His long eyelashes drooped as he blushed and whispered, “Okay, it’s a lot more. I really, really like you.”