The smell of smoke clung everywhere, invading Sheng Linyou's nose and making him frown.
He pulled Yin Xigui's slight body closer and inspected him from every angle—front, sides, then back. Yin Xigui had seemed pleased at first, but now he looked like a monkey being examined at the zoo.
A slender hand caught Sheng Linyou's wrist and stopped him.
“Brother, I'm fine. The smoke only came from his cigarette. There's nothing wrong with me.”
Sheng Linyou's grip loosened. He released an almost imperceptible sigh.
The faint milky sweetness that normally clung to Yin Xigui had become mixed with smoke. It smelled completely wrong on him—so wrong that it made Sheng Linyou sick with disgust.
“Who said I was examining your body? I was checking whether he did anything to you, idiot.”
Sheng Linyou continued his critical inspection without offering so much as a pleasant look. Only after confirming that nothing was wrong did his suspended heart finally settle.
“All right. If you're fine, we're going home. You need to wash off that stink. It's disgusting.”
He caught Yin Xigui by the wrist and had taken only a few steps when the young man tugged him back. A small voice rose behind him.
“Brother…I haven't finished shopping.”
Sheng Linyou's temper flared instantly. He turned his head and glared.
“Are you sick, or am I? You reek of smoke everywhere you go, and now you expect me to keep shopping with you? I'm not going.”
He released Yin Xigui and strode ahead. After a dozen steps, however, something felt wrong.
Why couldn't he hear anything behind him?
He turned.
Yin Xigui was gone.
Yin Xigui!
Dust flew as Sheng Linyou sprinted toward the nearest shopping center.
Elsewhere, Yin Xigui wandered through a small accessories shop, unable to keep the smile from his lips.
Sheng Linyou would come back soon.
No—he would definitely come.
He would search for him, stay with him, and never simply let him wander away.
Yin Xigui clenched his fist. The sharp edge of the model race car in his hand dug into his flesh, but he seemed not to notice. Only when hurried running footsteps approached did he pinch himself hard and move toward the other side of the shop.
“Why the hell did you run off?”
A powerful arm wrenched him backward. He struck Sheng Linyou's chest with a thud, leaving his forehead red.
“Tch. I never said I wouldn't go with you.”
“Did that hurt?”
Yin Xigui rubbed his forehead. “No, Brother. I thought you were disgusted with me.”
How could this man twist one sentence into ten thousand meanings?
Sheng Linyou's head throbbed. He roughly brushed Yin Xigui's hand aside, then rubbed the red spot himself.
“I never said that. You imagined it, so don't blame me.”
Yin Xigui answered sweetly, finally relaxing. Only then did the stares coming from every direction become impossible to ignore.
Sheng Linyou scowled at the crowd.
“What are you looking at? Get lost!”
“What the hell? He's only some filthy lower-class—”
“Forget it. He looks dangerous. Let's go.”
“Yeah, hurry. Mad dogs like that don't care if they die once they start biting.”
The people scattered, leaving an empty circle around the pair. A few still hid farther away to watch.
From the corner of his eye, Sheng Linyou noticed something black and red clenched in Yin Xigui's hand. The skin around its edges had already turned raw.
Without asking, he pried open Yin Xigui's fingers and took the object.
It was a model race car—an exact copy of the car Sheng Linyou had driven two years ago.
His heart jolted.
He snatched the model fully into his own hand, his tone fierce.
“Hold it that tightly and you're the one who gets hurt!”
Yin Xigui shrank beneath the rebuke, yet could not resist peeking up at him. A tiny smile curved his lips, like a cat that had stolen a dried fish.
“Does Brother like racing?”
Sheng Linyou's fingers stilled around the model. The workmanship was not particularly refined. In fact, it was rather crude, and several edges had been worn pale from prolonged handling.
Something inside him softened, though his expression remained stern.
“Why ask so many questions? Let's go.”
He turned toward the exit, deliberately slowing his steps. Sure enough, he had barely taken two before quick footsteps pattered after him and a warm hand seized the corner of his shirt.
“Brother, walk a little slower.”
Yin Xigui trotted beside him, breathing lightly. The wind lifted the loose pink strands over his forehead, revealing smooth, pale skin.
Sheng Linyou glanced sideways, then immediately looked away.
“How fast I walk is none of your concern.”
“But if you walk too fast, I have to run to keep up.”
“Then run.”
“I can't run anymore…”
Yin Xigui suddenly faltered and began to collapse. Sheng Linyou's heart tightened. Almost on instinct, he turned and caught the young man securely in his arms.
With his entire face buried against Sheng Linyou's chest, Yin Xigui gave a muffled laugh.
Only then did Sheng Linyou realize he had been tricked. His face darkened, and he released Yin Xigui to shove him away.
Yin Xigui took advantage of the movement to loop both arms around his neck. He hung from Sheng Linyou and blinked up at him.
“Brother, carry me home.”
“In your dreams.”
“Then I'll sit here and refuse to move.”
Yin Xigui did exactly that. He slid down Sheng Linyou's arms and squatted on the sidewalk, hugging his knees as he stared up like an abandoned animal.
Sheng Linyou looked down at the fluffy pink bundle. His teeth ground together, and his temples throbbed.
Passersby had begun to glance over and whisper. Fragments such as “Isn't that the Yin family's young master?” occasionally drifted toward them.
Sheng Linyou inhaled deeply, bent down, and swept Yin Xigui off the ground.
The young man weighed almost nothing in his arms. He naturally circled Sheng Linyou's neck and rested his chin against his shoulder, perfectly docile.
“Brother is so good to me.”
“Shut up.”
“Brother is so warm.”
“Say one more word and I'll throw you into a trash bin.”
“A trash bin is fine, as long as Brother comes with me.”
Sheng Linyou was rendered speechless. He shut his mouth and strode toward home with Yin Xigui in his arms.
After resting quietly for a while, Yin Xigui spoke again in a small voice.
“I made that model myself.”
Sheng Linyou's steps paused.
“I watched your race from two years ago. You looked especially handsome when you took the turns, so I followed the video and built it piece by piece.” Yin Xigui's voice grew softer with embarrassment. “It took a long time. I cut my fingers with the carving knife again and again.”
Sheng Linyou looked down. Yin Xigui had buried his face against his neck, leaving only one crimson ear visible.
“…Are you stupid?”
“No,” Yin Xigui protested into his shoulder. “It was worth it.”
Sheng Linyou said nothing more, but his arms tightened around him.
By the time they returned to the villa, dusk had fallen.
Sheng Linyou placed Yin Xigui on the sofa and turned toward the kitchen for water, only for his sleeve to be caught.
“What would Brother like for dinner?”
“Anything.”
“No. Anything is the hardest thing to cook.”
Sheng Linyou looked back. Yin Xigui sat cross-legged on the sofa, hands braced on his knees and face lifted with the solemn expression of someone making a momentous decision.
“I told you I would cook for you. You're not allowed to steal my job.”
“Is anything you make edible?”
“Of course!” Yin Xigui scrambled from the sofa and padded barefoot into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and rummaged inside. “I can even make red-braised pork! I don't always control the heat properly, so sometimes it burns…but the meat is always cooked!”
Sheng Linyou leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching him pull out ingredients and bustle around the stove in an apron. Yin Xigui muttered continuously to himself.
“How much salt was it?”
“Last time, Lin Zhi said to add the sugar before the soy sauce…”
“Lin Zhi has eaten here?”
Yin Xigui's hands stopped. He turned and blinked at Sheng Linyou.
“Only once. He insisted on coming, and I was too embarrassed to throw him out.”
Sheng Linyou snorted but said nothing.
The aroma of food soon filled the kitchen. Yin Xigui carried two dishes to the table, arranged the chopsticks, then sat upright with both hands on his knees and smiled up at him.
“Brother, come eat.”
Sheng Linyou pulled out a chair. The dishes were nothing elaborate: red-braised pork and a plate of stir-fried vegetables. They looked ordinary but smelled surprisingly good.
He placed a piece of pork in his mouth. It was properly seasoned, with a pleasant balance of lean meat and fat—far better than he had expected.
Yin Xigui watched his expression nervously. When Sheng Linyou swallowed without speaking, he leaned closer.
“Well? How is it?”
“It's fine.”
“Only fine?”
“Fine is fine.”
Yin Xigui puffed out his cheeks and poked at the rice in his bowl.
“It's obviously delicious…”
Sheng Linyou lowered his eyes. The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly before he quickly suppressed it.
After dinner, Yin Xigui insisted on washing the dishes and pushed Sheng Linyou into the sitting room. Sheng Linyou stood on the balcony, looking out at the night.
Soft footsteps approached behind him. A hand reached around and caught the hem of his shirt.
“What is Brother looking at?”
“Nothing.”
Yin Xigui moved beside him until their shoulders touched. The evening wind lifted his long pink hair, brushing several strands against Sheng Linyou's arm and carrying the clean scent of soap.
“Brother,” Yin Xigui said suddenly.
“Mm?”
“Have you ever thought about the future?”
Sheng Linyou fell silent.
The future was too extravagant a word for him. Two years ago, he had been a champion on the racetrack. Now a collar circled his neck, and people bought and sold him like merchandise.
He looked down at his wrist, where red marks from the day's restraints still lingered.
“No,” he said.
Yin Xigui did not answer. He merely rested his head lightly against Sheng Linyou's shoulder, his soft hair brushing Sheng Linyou's jaw.
“Then I'll imagine one for you,” he whispered. “We'll keep living like this. I'll cook for you, you'll sleep beside me, and we'll visit many places.”
Sheng Linyou looked down. Yin Xigui's eyes were closed, his lashes trembling in the evening breeze.
“…You're dreaming.”
“Then dream with me, Brother.”
Sheng Linyou did not reply. He only raised a hand and rubbed the top of Yin Xigui's head.
The hair beneath his palm was soft and warm. Like a cat being stroked, Yin Xigui nuzzled into his hand.
That night, Yin Xigui appeared at Sheng Linyou's door with a pillow again, claiming he wanted to hear stories about racing.
Sheng Linyou hauled him inside and tossed him onto the bed before lying on the other side, an arm's length between them.
“There's nothing worth telling.”
“Tell me about the first time you won a championship.”
Sheng Linyou stared at the ceiling. After a moment, he spoke, his voice slightly hoarse.
“It was raining that day, and the track was slick. I stayed in third place for the first three laps. On the fourth, the two cars ahead of me skidded at the same turn. I drove straight between them.”
His account was brief, but Yin Xigui listened intently, both eyes shining in the darkness.
“And then?”
“Then I won.”
Yin Xigui waited. When Sheng Linyou showed no intention of continuing, he edged closer.
“What were you thinking then?”
Sheng Linyou turned his head. In the darkness, they looked at each other across the narrow space.
“I was thinking about the checkered flag at the finish line. It was soaked with rain.”
Yin Xigui blinked. “You were thinking about the flag?”
“Mm. It fluttered once, so I stepped on the accelerator.”
“Why?”
Sheng Linyou did not answer immediately.
Now that he remembered it, the way that flag had trembled looked a little like the curve of Yin Xigui's fluttering lashes.
“I don't know.” He rolled over, presenting Yin Xigui with his back. “Go to sleep.”
Silence lasted several seconds. Then a warm body pressed close. Yin Xigui rested his forehead against Sheng Linyou's back and cautiously draped an arm over his waist.
“Good night, Brother.”
Sheng Linyou closed his eyes, his lips curving soundlessly in the dark.
“Mm.”
He woke once during the night. Yin Xigui had wrapped himself around him again, curled in Sheng Linyou's arms with his head buried against his chest.
Sheng Linyou looked down at the young man, then reached out and pulled the blanket back over Yin Xigui's exposed shoulder.