WHF Ch 39 – “Take Off Your Pants.”

Yu Tianbai understood what Xiu Ma was saying. He always understood.

From Songyuan to Mudanjiang, every time Xiu Ma hesitated, paused, or said something vague and inexplicable, Yu Tianbai understood it all.

The reason was simple: this kid’s level was just too low. But he also won because his level was so low, leaving Yu Tianbai speechless.

Being liked is a strange thing. It’s strange when you’re young, and it’s strange when you’re older. When no one loves you, you crave love, groveling, trying too hard without reward. Then, when someone finally does love you, you become a phoenix, forgetting all the past, consumed with wondering if they’ll still like you the next second, how long they’ll like you, and how much of you they can tolerate.

Being human means being a glutton for punishment.

When he was younger, Yu Tianbai thought about this too, but he always believed he’d solve it someday. He knew that when he truly cared for someone, he didn’t look good. Time passed, he grew older, his need to show off changed, but the affectation never left. He was stuck awkwardly in a middle state, suffering both sins at once.

It was the same now.

Yu Tianbai admitted that a couple of years ago, he was still indulging in that punishment. He enjoyed seeing others pine for him. Now he regretted it, had regretted it for a while, so he chose to play dumb.

But how do you keep playing dumb in a cramped space, face-to-face, when the words have been laid bare?

He wasn’t ready to accept it.

It wasn’t about sorting out new or old feelings, or some trite excuse like that. His world was just too complicated, and he didn’t have the responsibility to bring Xiu Ma into it. No duty, no right, and no ability.

Xiu Ma was still holding his hand. Yu Tianbai silently lowered his eyes, tracing from his wrist to the seat, then from his knees to the back row. For a moment, he was thinking too much, which wasn’t like him. If he overthought everything, he couldn’t live. Thinking about this every day, every hour, every second—life would be unlivable.

“Are you going to keep playing dumb?” Xiu Ma asked him.

Yu Tianbai looked to the side, his face showing an expression it had never worn before—tired, lost, and a bit fragile.

“Then I’ll say it straight.” Xiu Ma bit his lower lip, still not letting go of his hand. “I—”

“Don’t say it.” Yu Tianbai finally spoke, his two heavy words silencing everything, like the calm after a blizzard.

The man in front of him raised his eyes, still red-rimmed, definitely not from the cold wind. The van was warm. Yu Tianbai said, “Don’t say it out loud. If you do, we can never see each other again.”

The streetlights were dim, but Yu Tianbai could see Xiu Ma’s eyes flash for a moment before he shrank inward. It wasn’t just his appearance; Yu Tianbai could hear the faint sound of him retreating. He knew that flash in his eyes was because of what he’d said. Xiu Ma didn’t have eyes that teared up in the wind, only a pair of stunningly beautiful eyes. But when they cried, they were ordinary, like all eyes that cry for someone they love.

“Go to the back seat,” Yu Tianbai said, his tone returning to normal.

Xiu Ma didn’t immediately understand, just staring at him wide-eyed.

“I said, go to the back seat.” Yu Tianbai raised his voice slightly, repeating himself, his tone not quite harsh.

The blizzard in his heart had passed, as had the morning calm. The ice beneath the snow was waking, and Xiu Ma heard the relentless cracking. He leaned back, reaching for the door handle.

With the sound of the door opening, he stepped into the cold spring.

The few steps out of the van numbed his feet. The wind was sharp. After fumbling for the back seat’s handle, Xiu Ma stumbled back into the van. Before he could settle, the engine roared, and he tumbled onto the back seat, dazed for a long while.

The van sped out of the factory’s highway, turning onto a side road. Xiu Ma lay half-reclined in the back of the Wuling Hongguang, watching the lights shift from dark to bright, then dark again. A white wall came into view.

The van stopped.

Seconds later, the door in front of him opened. Yu Tianbai stood outside, locking eyes with the half-lying, half-sitting Xiu Ma.

Xiu Ma’s eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light. In his vision, Yu Tianbai’s every movement was in slow motion, even his mouth taking seconds to open.

“What I’m about to do, you might not like. You might want to punch me. But you have to endure it until it’s over. Then you can choke me or beat me, whatever you want.”

Then Yu Tianbai stepped into the van, his knee pressing onto the seat between Xiu Ma’s legs. He closed the door behind him.

The sound of cracking ice vanished, replaced by the thud of Xiu Ma’s heartbeat.

Yu Tianbai braced one hand on the backrest, straightened up, and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it to the front seat. It didn’t catch, sliding along the edge and falling near his feet. He didn’t pick it up or even glance at it, his eyes fixed on Xiu Ma’s upturned face. Rolling up his sleeves, he said, “Take off your pants.”

The heartbeat turned into the roar of a gale, blowing from outside into the van, deafening.

Xiu Ma shuddered uncontrollably, from his shoulders to his neck. He felt like he was facing a butcher with a knife, the cold piercing to the bone.

He heard Yu Tianbai sigh, then the man leaned down, his face showing resignation.

“What are you afraid of?” Yu Tianbai asked.

This time, Xiu Ma didn’t dare meet his eyes, staring down at his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Everything.”

But both their eyes were red now, so talk of fear or not made no difference.

Yu Tianbai’s hand tapped the seat by Xiu Ma’s head, adopting a magnanimous air. “It’s fine if you’re scared, as long as you can get it up.”

But his open-mindedness didn’t elicit the usual response. Xiu Ma looked off in some vague direction, his hand hovering an inch from Yu Tianbai’s knee, uncertain of its next move.

This wasn’t like him. Really, it wasn’t.

Normally, Xiu Ma’s signature was his furrowed brows and the whole repertoire that came with them—scowling out the window, scowling at Yu Tianbai. He’d relax for a second or two when he smiled, but the moment Yu Tianbai said something outrageous, his expression snapped back, brows knitting, eyes fierce. He looked like he belonged in a classroom with a pen and a book, studying hard, unaware of being the campus heartthrob.

So Yu Tianbai didn’t like it when he had no expression, as if he didn’t know what to do next, as if he’d lost his spark.

Damn it.

Yu Tianbai clicked his tongue, reaching out to turn Xiu Ma’s face toward him. His skin was warm, vibrant in his hand. Yu Tianbai’s thumb brushed along his cheek.

“Don’t want me to touch you?”

Xiu Ma didn’t answer, and Yu Tianbai didn’t want to wait for one.

His hand moved down—throat, collarbone, chest, stopping at the abdomen. Yu Tianbai felt a tremor beneath his touch. He looked up. The moment their eyes met, he realized Xiu Ma was bluffing too.

Like some innocent high schooler sneaking a taste of forbidden fruit after evening study hall.

As the thought surfaced, Yu Tianbai mentally shouted “stop thinking” five times. When the noise in his head settled, he decided to act and banish the idea entirely.

He squeezed his other leg onto the seat, hands on Xiu Ma’s abdomen. Going straight for the waistband felt too immature, so Yu Tianbai slid his hands down, feeling the firm, supple, young body—real, tangible. His breath came out in a rush, tinged with excitement.

They’d parked by the highway, next to an abandoned factory wall. Only a few lamps lit the way, and the van was dim, making it hard to read expressions without squinting.

Yu Tianbai ignored Xiu Ma’s expression, focusing on finding the edge of his pants. But as his hand slipped under Xiu Ma’s clothes, his wrist was suddenly grabbed.

It was the first reaction Xiu Ma had given in the five minutes since Yu Tianbai started. Yu Tianbai paused, glancing up. Xiu Ma had slid down the seat, looking up at him.

“How far are we going?” Xiu Ma asked, his voice low.

Yu Tianbai blinked, nudging his legs further apart with his knee. If he could ask that, he wasn’t entirely naive.

“Not all the way. I’m not going full-on with a kid like you.”

Xiu Ma’s fingers loosened instantly. Yu Tianbai knew what face he’d make when he heard harsh words, so he didn’t look up. Finally, he realized the pants had no belt—Xiu Ma was wearing sweatpants.

Didn’t that make things easier?

He tugged the pants down, and a certain organ appeared with startling speed. They’d seen each other’s raw honesty a few hazy times before, but this directness left Yu Tianbai momentarily stunned.

He slowly raised his face. “Is this what someone who failed a confession looks like?”

It shouldn’t be. Yu Tianbai had already answered for him in his mind.

Xiu Ma let go of his wrist entirely, covering his face instead. After a moment, his muffled reply came. “Didn’t you ever have a twenty-one-year-old phase?”

Sorry, too long ago. Forgotten.

Yu Tianbai stared at that part for a while, unable to will it down. He propped himself up, reaching for something by the back seat. He tapped Xiu Ma’s hands, still covering his face, and passed the item through the gap.

“Use this.”

It was an old friend: the soft silicone, portable pleasure cup.

A few days ago, Yu Tianbai had guided Xiu Ma to try it, then left it here, forgotten until now.

Xiu Ma wanted to say something, but Yu Tianbai wasn’t calling him for negotiation or discussion—just to inform. A clatter came from the back seat as Yu Tianbai dug out a bottle of clear liquid. Even someone as innocent as Xiu Ma knew what it was. His words came with the pop of the cap.

“I don’t think I need this.”

Meaning men can get wet too, but he wouldn’t say it so bluntly.

Yu Tianbai ignored his subtle protest. “I like it smoother. More intense.”

Xiu Ma’s knowledge ended there, and he didn’t understand. From between his arms, he saw Yu Tianbai open the cap. The liquid slid along his fingers, and then Yu Tianbai leaned down, his hand slipping below, fitting it on, enveloping him from head to toe.

…

Yu Tianbai leaned over to grab tissues from the front seat, placing them over the traces on Xiu Ma’s abdomen. The liquid trickled down, its color uneven.

“Wipe yourself off,” he said to Xiu Ma, then pushed open the back door.

It was freezing outside, his face burning with heat. When they’d parked, Yu Tianbai had noticed a public restroom nearby. He needed to go there.

Now. Immediately.