WHF Ch 40 – “Don’t Kiss.”

When Yu Tianbai returned to the van against the wind, Xiu Ma was already back in the passenger seat, clothes neat, seat clean, looking at his phone instead of staring blankly as usual.

Other than that, it was as if nothing had happened.

The engine was warm, the headlights on. It felt like any ordinary night after a day’s work. The unlucky boss had stepped out to relieve himself by the roadside, and now they’d head to a service area to eat and sleep, meeting again in the van the next morning, just like every day for the past month.

Except that in the public restroom earlier, Yu Tianbai had spent about ten minutes with his head in his hands, lost in thought. To avoid letting the person in the next stall hear his sighs, he flushed the toilet twenty times in those ten minutes.

What he didn’t know was that the deserted restroom in the middle of nowhere held only him, the oblivious person waiting outside, and the deafening fifty or so questions echoing in his mind—What did you just do?

Yeah, what did you just do?

A young body was too perfect—its warmth, its reactions, its spirit, its touch. Yu Tianbai felt his entire being screaming, trembling, shouting silently. To put it bluntly, a certain part of him was in the opposite state of soft.

In the restroom, he didn’t dare take another deep breath, so he stomped the flush valve again.

Ten minutes later, Yu Tianbai emerged from the restroom door as if nothing had happened, lit a cigarette, and waited until it burned out before returning to the van, tucking away all the raging emotions.

The young master’s face was lit by his phone screen, showing no signs of anything unusual. Yu Tianbai even began to doubt whether anything had actually happened. He sifted through the memories of those ten or so minutes in the van. The light was too dim to see clearly, but it was undeniable. Then he quickly waved off the memory. Recalling it was just to confirm the young master was okay now, not to undo the dozen flushes in the restroom.

He shifted his gaze from Xiu Ma’s face and calmly took the driver’s seat. But the moment the passenger spoke, all the composure Yu Tianbai had carefully built up vanished.

Xiu Ma asked him, “Can we still look into the thing Xiao Juan asked us to check?”

His voice was still a bit muffled, sounding like he was recovering from a bad cold. But Yu Tianbai knew the real reason and that it would take a while for his voice to return to normal. After a mental storm, he realized Xiu Ma was talking about something serious.

It seemed their original reason for coming to Mudanjiang was to investigate Fang Hui’s whereabouts. But they’d fooled around, played the suona, sang songs, and forgotten the initial task. Going back to Sun Jiu now wasn’t an option either.

Yu Tianbai decided to try a different approach.

“Do we have to keep investigating this—can’t we do it another time?”

But as soon as he said it, he felt he owed Xiu Ma something, so he cleared his throat.

“If you have any info later, let me know. I’ll ask the drivers hanging out at the intersection to poke around.”

After saying two things, Xiu Ma didn’t react much. He silently turned off his phone screen, listlessly looking to the side, truly resembling someone recovering from a serious illness. He furrowed his brows, rubbed his nose, and asked, “Can’t we just hand over the evidence of Sun killing someone to the police?”

Yu Tianbai couldn’t help but want to laugh.

“You’ve been running around with me for over a month, and you’re still thinking of going to the police uncle for everything?”

Xiu Ma’s hand, rubbing his nose, paused. He took a breath but didn’t speak.

“And how would we provide evidence? Say we were chased down for personal reasons, or that we heard rumors while racing through a cornfield—if we said that straight up, you wouldn’t be going back to school in May. Your dad would have to bail you out of detention.”

After unloading in one breath, Yu Tianbai tilted his head to gauge his reaction. Xiu Ma lifted his eyes, and they finally locked gazes.

Though his energy was low, Xiu Ma’s tone was firm. He said, “Instead of relying on drivers, why not let my people handle it?”

His people? Was he some kind of lord now?

Seeing Yu Tianbai’s thoughtful but clearly fruitless expression, Xiu Ma put his phone back in his jacket pocket and turned to him. “Those days you kicked me out of the van, I met some folks at a bar. Sat at the counter for three days to make connections—their info’s pretty reliable.”

It clicked for Yu Tianbai. “Oh, you mean when you drank non-alcoholic drinks for three days straight?”

Xiu Ma had no comeback.

“Wasn’t that in Jilin?” Yu Tianbai’s interest piqued. “We’re in Mudanjiang now, and further north is Heilongjiang. Will your network still work?”

To his question, Xiu Ma tugged at his hair.

“Do you know chain stores exist? They’re in all three Northeast provinces.”

Now it was Yu Tianbai’s turn to be speechless. He stared out the window, muttering to himself, “You’ve become a major shareholder, huh.”

But there was nothing to see outside. In another hour, even the streetlights would go out. All that was visible now was the dull side road and the white wall.

While Yu Tianbai zoned out, Xiu Ma glanced at his phone. The screen was still on the search page from earlier: “how to interact after doing it.” Yes, he’d been searching this before Yu Tianbai got back in the van. Of course, the search engine offered nothing useful—just cheesy pickup lines and relationship advice.

There were two other search records: “do normal friends do this” and “will you face moral judgment for doing it with a friend.”

His hair-tugging grew frantic. Then he gripped the phone with both hands, deleted the text, closed the app, and returned to the home screen, swiping back and forth before locking it.

Book knowledge falls short. Xiu Ma let out a deep sigh. He knew Yu Tianbai wasn’t planning to start the van yet but had no idea what was going through his mind.

“You,” Yu Tianbai suddenly spoke before Xiu Ma could open his mouth, “are you feeling okay? Nothing uncomfortable?”

Xiu Ma pursed his lips, meeting Yu Tianbai’s scrutinizing gaze, realizing he’d wilted to a new low in just a few minutes.

“Nothing,” he answered honestly, taking his hand off his nose. He couldn’t stop rubbing it when nervous. A few more rounds, and he’d twist it off.

Now it was Yu Tianbai’s turn to sigh.

“If you feel stomach pain in the next day, that’s normal. Keep a good mood, rest a lot, and you’ll recover in a day.” He glanced at the back seat. “You don’t have to sit in the passenger seat. Lie down back there if you want.”

Xiu Ma hadn’t felt anything before, but now he actually noticed some discomfort.

“Why would it hurt?” Xiu Ma hesitated. “Because of overindulgence—?”

His voice grew quieter, fading into silence, prompting Yu Tianbai to start and stop several times. But he explained responsibly, “It’s just because your body isn’t used to this sensation. If your mood shifts, the pain might feel stronger.”

Duty-bound and thorough, if you ignored that Yu Tianbai caused it all.

The discomfort circled twice with his boss’s words. Xiu Ma silently adjusted his posture, smoothing his shirt. He suddenly noticed the red beaded bracelet still on Yu Tianbai’s chest. Looking up, he saw Yu Tianbai in a white round-neck shirt, no damp spots, the red beads faint.

After facing something far beyond your understanding, you become calmer than expected. Xiu Ma felt everything was calm—Yu Tianbai, himself, and the eight o’clock night in Heilongjiang’s outskirts.

He was very calm, able to think about important questions. So he chose to speak solemnly, “After doing it, what’s our relationship?”

Yu Tianbai’s hand was by his mouth. At the question, his fingers curled slightly. He said, “We didn’t really do it.”

Xiu Ma understood what he meant. They hadn’t gotten a hotel room and done something earth-shattering. But it wasn’t nothing, not like any other night before.

“And even if we did, it’s not a big deal. Not even friends with benefits,” he said, stretching his arms and yawning, turning back to Xiu Ma. “Remember, just don’t kiss anyone.”

No logic to it.

Xiu Ma’s furrowed-brow expression returned. He pursed his lips, eyeing Yu Tianbai from face to mouth and back, then asked, “What kind of logic is that?”

The young master’s disdainful expression, spilling over his lips, amused Yu Tianbai, but he quickly sobered.

“I’m serious,” he said firmly. “How far did you go with the girls you dated before?”

Xiu Ma was thrown by his earnestness, thinking before answering, “Holding hands.”

“Good,” Yu Tianbai said, pleased. “Don’t kiss.”

The problem was, they were on a highway in Heilongjiang. Xiu Ma couldn’t exactly find a third person to kiss. But he kind of believed Yu Tianbai.

“As long as you don’t catch real feelings, it’s all fine,” Yu Tianbai summed up. “No feelings, starting with no kissing.”

This was harder than lab experiments, lab reports, or reading papers. Xiu Ma relaxed his brows, sinking back into thought. Yu Tianbai twisted his neck beside him, as if relieved, and said, “Good! Time to hit the road. You hungry?”

Before the passenger could answer, Yu Tianbai blinked, looking at the back seat.

“Hey—have you seen my sealed bag?”

“Which one?” Xiu Ma turned his head.

“The one with the hammer. I’m sure I left it in the back.”

He leaned over the steering wheel, looking around. Xiu Ma watched him search, then said slowly, “I threw it onto Sun’s cabinet.”

The words landed, and Yu Tianbai could almost hear the hammer smashing onto the ebony cabinet. That cabinet was at least two and a half meters off the ground, with only fifteen centimeters to the ceiling. Throwing it up there took precision and skill.

But getting it down would take even more skill—finding something to climb two and a half meters, then reaching into a fifteen-centimeter gap to grab a hammer covered in brain matter.

That was way more entertaining than a comedy duo.

Yu Tianbai rubbed his forehead, pondering, then asked Xiu Ma, “You just threw it up there?”

“Yeah,” Xiu Ma’s reply was concise. “After we talked, I said I’d give him something and tossed it up from the doorway.”

A perfect parabola arced over Mudanjiang, the hammer landing on Sun Jiu’s fake diploma, met with resounding silence.

“So that’s why you opened the van door—to grab the hammer,” Yu Tianbai said, marveling to himself.

“But speaking of which,” he added, resting his hand on the wheel, “he didn’t even know where the hammer came from. Maybe he really isn’t the killer.”

From hammer to mallet, it had changed species. Xiu Ma was momentarily speechless.

“You blamed me for always wanting to go to the police,” he said. “Now why keep the evidence? To report it?”

His words were sharp, the evidence clear. Yu Tianbai nodded deeply. “You’re right. You did good.”

“And,” he beckoned, signaling Xiu Ma to buckle up, “don’t do that again. He might not do anything to you, but it’s not guaranteed. You’re still young. I don’t want to have to cart you back to your dad in the van’s cargo bed.”

It wasn’t pleasant to hear, and Xiu Ma didn’t want to accept it. He pursed his lips, tugging the seatbelt. Yu Tianbai leaned on the wheel, watching him, letting out a “tch” before flicking Xiu Ma’s cheek.

“Can you make a sound when I talk to you?”

The flick wasn’t hard, but it was loud. Xiu Ma clutched his cheek, agreeing several times, buckling the seatbelt fully. After settling, he rubbed the spot again.

Yu Tianbai’s hands had a distinct temperature—cool, sometimes gentle despite their strength.

“If there’s no issue, we’re heading out,” the driver said, full of energy. “I hope that hammer stays on the cabinet a while. Even in Northeast weather, it might grow mushrooms.”

Xiu Ma didn’t comment, propping his chin with his other hand, watching the night slide by. Jilin was behind them, and now they were heading to China’s northernmost reaches.

—

Three days later, in the early morning, the hammer in its sealed bag had moved from the cabinet top to the desk. On either side of the ebony desk sat Sun Jiu and the Tu uncle and nephew. In the five-square-meter space, only the hammer on the desk seemed calm.

“Speak,” the factory manager said first. “Did you frame me for the murder?”

It had been half a month since the Tu duo last contacted Sun Jiu. No one had suggested meeting until the hammer appeared.

The office atmosphere was heavy, with only the teacups on the desk still steaming. Sun Jiu crossed his legs, arms folded over his chest. “If you don’t talk, I’ll assume you’re admitting it.”

“Factory Manager,” Tu Laowu said, smiling in response to Sun Jiu’s clearly unfriendly question. “You don’t think we’d obey you just because you haven’t paid us for the last body disposal, do you?”

He wasn’t wrong. A month had passed since that job, and not a cent had been added to the Tu family’s account. Secretary Yan had nagged about it, but two fists can’t fight four hands. Good workers can’t beat a bad boss. When it comes to withholding wages, capitalists always win.

Sun Jiu replied calmly, “You haven’t settled the matter of losing my car either.”

Laowu wasn’t fazed, sipping his tea and plastering on a kindly smile. “We could lose another one for you. Believe it?”