Chapter 36

Chen Jun felt as if he had been struck by lightning. His legs felt weak as he stumbled back into the crowd.

Everyone had heard his conversation with Mi Zhao. Though they kept their expressions neutral, their chattering never stopped.

“Holy crap, Senior’s partner is really coming to the dinner, right?”

“Yeah, you heard that right.”

“I was planning to leave early today, but no way—I have to stay for this!”

Someone noticed how dazed Chen Jun looked and nudged him. “Chen Jun, what’s wrong with you?”

Chen Jun opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again—only to finally swallow hard and force his words back down.

He replied, “Nothing.”

On the other side, Mi Zhao was worried someone else might suddenly get the idea to send another person over to pester him with nonsense. So, he quickly finished wiping the remaining stools and then slipped away to a corner with his phone.

For the past few days, Li Sipei had barely acknowledged him. It had taken relentless pestering—calls, messages—just to get a couple of short replies.

Mi Zhao pointed his camera at his face, raised his left index finger, and held it up in front of him.

“See? I wasn’t lying. It’s actually bleeding.”

On the other end of the video call, Li Sipei leaned in slightly, seemingly examining the screen carefully. After a moment, he pulled back, expressionless.

“I don’t see any blood.”

Panicked, Mi Zhao waved his finger. “Right here!”

Li Sipei remained indifferent. “There’s nothing.”

Glancing at the tiny bead of blood barely visible on his fingertip, Mi Zhao fell silent for a moment before sighing. “Fine, I’ll take a picture and send it to you. If I wait any longer, the wound will heal.”

Li Sipei: “……”

Just as Mi Zhao was about to snap a picture, Li Sipei stopped him.

“It’s just a small cut. Put a band-aid on it,” he said. “If that’s all, I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”

After all the effort it took to get Li Sipei to answer his video call, there was no way Mi Zhao would let him hang up so easily. Furrowing his brows, he protested, “It really hurts, you know.”

Li Sipei didn’t respond, but he also didn’t hang up.

Sensing an opportunity, Mi Zhao quickly acted pitiful. “You’re not even going to comfort me a little?”

Li Sipei pressed his lips together, clearly reluctant.

Mi Zhao leaned closer to the camera. “Hmm?”

However, as if recalling something unpleasant, Li Sipei coldly said, “I don’t want to comfort you.”

Mi Zhao: “……”

And then, he hung up.

Squatting in the corner, Mi Zhao sighed dramatically—until someone suddenly patted him on the shoulder from behind.

He sprang up like a startled cat.

The person who had patted him, Yan Qinting, was also startled and took two steps back. “What’s with you? Jumping like that.”

Mi Zhao shot him a resentful look and turned to leave.

Yan Qinting quickly grabbed him. “I just heard—your special someone is coming to the dinner? Is that for real?”

“It’s real.”

Yan Qinting was dumbfounded, looking as if he had just seen a ghost. “Wait, what were you guys thinking?! If he comes, won’t that totally expose everything?”

“Expose what?” Mi Zhao asked in confusion.

“Expose—” Yan Qinting glanced around before lowering his voice and jabbing a finger at Mi Zhao’s chest. “Expose that you like guys, obviously. And even worse, people might start digging into that whole sugar daddy rumor, or even your history with that scumbag—”

The moment the words that scumbag left his lips, Mi Zhao snorted, grabbing Yan Qinting’s hand and pushing it away. “Relax. Li Yan’s so deep in the closet he’d rather die than admit it.”

“What about you?” Yan Qinting frowned, watching him closely. “You really don’t care?”

Mi Zhao sobered up, taking a moment to think.

Honestly, he didn’t care if people knew he was gay. But it wasn’t exactly something to flaunt around, and there was no need to go shouting it from the rooftops.

Besides, he wasn’t particularly close to most of the people in the club.

But since Li Sipei had agreed to come, there was no way he was going to stop him.

Thinking about it like that, it didn’t seem like a big deal anymore.

Shrugging, he gave a straightforward answer. “I don’t care.”

“……”

Yan Qinting was stunned into silence, his mouth hanging open. Then, seeing that Mi Zhao was about to leave, he hurriedly called after him,

“Do you really not think you’re spoiling that guy too much?”

Mi Zhao glanced back at him.

Yan Qinting’s expression was serious. He solemnly voiced his concern:

“At this rate, he’s going to have total control over you.”

Mi Zhao rolled his eyes and laughed.

After word spread that Mi Zhao’s partner was coming to the dinner, the club’s atmosphere grew strangely tense. Everyone had their own thoughts about it, and even the president and vice president noticed something was off.

But there was a lot of work to do during the day, so everyone was too busy running around like spinning tops to dwell on it. It wasn’t until evening, when the performances started, that people finally got a moment to breathe.

Mi Zhao grabbed a small stool and sat near a group of kids. He wasn’t part of any performances, so all he had to do was hand out candy and small prizes for the games.

The weather was nice today. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the clouds, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves.

As the sky darkened, someone turned on the colorful string lights hanging from the trees. The flashing colors lit up the space, drawing gasps of delight from the children gathered below.

Sitting quietly on his stool, Mi Zhao was dressed in a full-body rabbit mascot costume, which made moving around a bit awkward. The one good thing was that the costume had a round, hollowed-out belly—

Which meant he could discreetly tuck his hands inside and play on his phone.

Of course, he wasn’t actually playing on his phone.

He was just checking to see if Li Sipei had messaged him.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t.

Their conversation had been stuck at that video call from the morning.

Mi Zhao pursed his lips, tapping idly on the screen. He couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. After some hesitation, he opened the chat again, typing and deleting multiple times.

In the end, he couldn’t resist sending a message.

[mrz: We’ll be done in an hour and a half. What time are you coming?]

To his surprise, the moment the message was sent, the contact name “Xiao Li” above the chat immediately changed to “Typing…”

Almost instantly, a reply popped up beneath his message.

[Xiao Li: I’m here.]

Mi Zhao was stunned for a second. Then, as realization hit, a wave of joy flooded his mind, the corners of his lips curling even higher.

Li Sipei must have been on his phone, which was why he replied so quickly.

No.

Maybe his chat window had been open the whole time.

The thought filled Mi Zhao’s heart with a honey-like sweetness, bubbling up his throat.

So sweet that it almost hurt his teeth.

He clenched and unclenched his left hand, his knuckles cracking under the pressure.

Taking a deep breath, he refocused on his screen.

[mrz: (Location) A City Children’s Welfare Home (Hongpai Road)]

[mrz: I’m here. If you arrive early, you can wait here for me. If you’re late, just head straight to our dinner spot.]

[mrz: Yixi Izakaya Main Branch, the one on Hongpai Road. Look it up on the map.]

Even on WeChat, Li Sipei remained as concise as ever.

[Xiao Li: Okay.]

[mrz: Be careful on the way.]

[Xiao Li: Okay.]

[mrz: Let me know when you get there.]

[Xiao Li: Okay.]

Conversation over.

Mi Zhao sighed lightly. After a moment of hesitation, he deleted the words he had been about to type in the input box.

Then, he simply sat there, holding his phone in both hands, staring into space.

It was strange.

Back when he was dating Li Yan, there were times when Li Yan either didn’t reply or responded half-heartedly. But it had never really bothered him. He would just put his phone away and go about his day.

Yet now, looking at his conversation with Li Sipei, he suddenly had the urge to call him directly.

“Sister.” A timid voice sounded.

Mi Zhao snapped out of his thoughts, hurriedly stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He turned his mascot head to the left and saw a little girl in a red sweater.

Behind her, four or five younger children huddled together.

At first, Mi Zhao thought she was calling someone else. But the girl’s wide eyes remained fixed on him, unblinking.

Then he remembered—his rabbit costume was designed as a female character, complete with a pink bow on its long ears.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

The little girl seemed surprised that the rabbit’s voice belonged to a brother instead of a sister, shrinking back slightly before gathering her courage again. She pointed at the small bamboo basket on Mi Zhao’s lap. “Teacher Tang said we could get candy if we helped out. We just finished moving some stuff.”

Hearing this, Mi Zhao grabbed a handful of White Rabbit candies and placed them into her cupped hands.

The children behind her each got some too.

They stared at the candies, brows furrowing in deep thought. After a brief hesitation, the little girl led them in a soft chorus:

“Thank you, Sister.”

“……”

Mi Zhao choked.

“…You’re welcome.”

As time passed, more and more children came asking for candy. Some of the bolder ones curiously poked at the hollow belly of his costume, while others tugged at his long rabbit ears.

Instead of getting annoyed, Mi Zhao casually hooked the bamboo basket onto his arm, stood up, and playfully threatened, “I’m getting angry!”

The mischievous kids shrieked in laughter and scattered in all directions.

But some children remained, pointing at him in confusion. “But that’s a brother’s voice.”

Mi Zhao confidently put his hands on his hips. “I am a brother.”

The kids immediately erupted into excited chatter.

“But the rabbit is a sister! How come there’s a brother inside?”

“Only sisters can wear bows! Brothers can’t wear bows!”

“There should be a sister inside, not a brother!”

Touching the bow on his rabbit ears, Mi Zhao disagreed. “Who says only sisters can wear bows? If a brother likes them, he can wear them too. Liking things isn’t about gender.”

A little boy eagerly raised his hand. “So I can dress up as the rabbit sister too?”

Mi Zhao patted his head. “Of course you can.”

“Then can I dress as a Transformer?” a little girl asked excitedly. “I saw them on TV, and they’re so cool!”

“Of course you can.”

“I like Peppa Pig!”

“I like dolls too!”

The other kids chimed in one after another, full of enthusiasm.

The commotion grew so loud that an orphanage staff member came over to remind them to keep it down, taking the children away in the process.

Left alone, Mi Zhao sat back down on his stool, setting the bamboo basket at his feet. He tucked his hands into the hollow belly of his costume, pulled out his phone, and opened his notes app, carefully jotting down everything the children had mentioned.

Just as he was typing the last words, he suddenly felt a light tug on his rabbit ears.

At first, he assumed it was one of the playful kids sneaking back. Without looking up from his screen, he lazily warned, “If you keep pulling, brother’s really gonna get mad.”

But the tugging didn’t stop. If anything, the force grew stronger, tilting his head slightly to the right.

Immediately, Mi Zhao turned off his phone, put on a stern face, and spun around.

“Brother is really mad—”

The words caught in his throat.

Through the thin plastic of his mascot’s eye holes, he found himself face-to-face with a very familiar figure.

Li Sipei.

Standing right in front of him.