It rained through the entire night.
By the time they returned to the house, both of them were more than half soaked. The pink ends of Yin Xigui's hair that his hood had failed to cover clung wetly to his neck. Droplets ran down the strands, staining his collar dark.
Sheng Linyou closed the umbrella in the entryway. When Yin Xigui sneezed twice, he reached over, pulled off his hood, and pressed a palm to his forehead to check his temperature.
"Go take a shower. Don't catch a cold."
"Want to shower together, gege?"
Sheng Linyou pressed a hand to the back of his neck. There was no force behind it, but Yin Xigui still tucked his neck in and laughed. "I'm kidding."
"Go."
Yin Xigui bounded up two steps, then doubled back. His damp fingers hooked around Sheng Linyou's little finger and swung it lightly. "Then wait until I'm done. Don't sneak off to the balcony for another cigarette." After a pause, he added, "Not that you could smoke in rain this heavy."
Sheng Linyou watched him vanish around the bend in the stairs. A door opened and shut upstairs, and soon the pipes began to hum with running water.
He leaned against the entryway cabinet for a moment and glanced down at his own shoulder, just as soaked as Yin Xigui's. Then he went to the kitchen and made ginger tea.
He poured two bowls. When he carried one upstairs, Yin Xigui had just emerged from the shower and was standing in the bathroom doorway, wrapped in an oversized white robe as he rubbed his hair dry.
Steam billowed out behind him. His cheeks were flushed from the heat, and a fine sheen of moisture still clung to his skin.
"Dry your hair before you come over."
Sheng Linyou set the ginger tea on the nightstand, pulled a clean towel from the drawer, and draped it over Yin Xigui's head.
Yin Xigui let him rub his hair a couple of times, then peeked at him from beneath the edge of the towel, only half his face showing as he blinked.
"You're so good to me, gege."
"Save it. Drink the tea."
Yin Xigui obediently held the bowl in both hands and took small sips. The ginger's sharp heat rushed into his nose and made him frown, but he finished every drop.
He handed the empty bowl back. "Where's yours, gege?"
"Downstairs. I'll drink it later."
"No. Go drink it now."
"You go to sleep."
"You go drink it first." Yin Xigui caught the hem of his shirt and refused to let go, gazing up at him with soft, pleading eyes. "Come back up and sleep with me after you finish."
Sheng Linyou looked down at him.
Yin Xigui's half-dry pink hair lay loose over his shoulders. The robe had fallen slightly open at the collar, revealing the faint blue trace of a vein above his collarbone. His skin was a healthy pink from the hot water, and the ginger tea had left his lips full and moist, parting slightly whenever he spoke.
Sheng Linyou's gaze lingered there for half a second before he looked away.
"Fine."
He went downstairs and drank his ginger tea. By the time he came back, Yin Xigui had already burrowed beneath the covers.
He had rolled himself up in the thin quilt until only his hair and face remained visible. In the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp, he watched Sheng Linyou enter and smiled, eyes curving.
"You really didn't go smoke on the balcony tonight."
"The rain's too heavy."
Sheng Linyou lifted the covers and lay down. Yin Xigui immediately rolled toward him, pressing close against his side and draping a warm arm across his waist.
Through the thin fabric between them, Sheng Linyou could feel the lingering warmth of his body and smell the mingled scents of ginger and shower gel.
"You're warm." Yin Xigui nuzzled into the hollow of his shoulder like a cat that had found a cozy nest.
Sheng Linyou did not move. He simply let him cling.
He knew Yin Xigui would say nothing more tonight. After that brief lapse in the library, he had gathered back everything he had almost revealed and wrapped himself once more in that soft, docile shell.
But once some things leaked out, the seams could never close completely again.
The next morning, Yin Xigui woke later than Sheng Linyou.
When he came downstairs, Sheng Linyou was already at the dining table. The bowl of congee before him was empty, and he was leafing through a book he had brought home from the library the night before.
Yin Xigui paused for an instant on the stairs, then continued down as if nothing had happened.
"You're up early today, gege."
"Couldn't sleep."
Yin Xigui hummed in acknowledgment and went to serve himself some congee.
As he passed, Sheng Linyou turned a page without lifting his eyes. In an offhand tone, he asked, "That book you were reading in the library yesterday—the gray one. What was it about?"
Yin Xigui's ladle paused for a beat. It was barely noticeable, but Sheng Linyou caught it from the corner of his eye and did not look up.
"Financial markets."
Yin Xigui brought the bowl back to the table and sat down, stirring away the steam with his spoon. "I told you before, didn't I? I've studied a bit of everything. That one was about controlling interests and ownership structures. It could be useful for dealing with things on my father's side."
Sheng Linyou turned another page.
The gray cover and the line of small gilt lettering on the spine certainly looked like a finance book.
The entire row of shelves by the windows on the library's second floor belonged to the economics and management section. When they had sat across from each other, the pages Sheng Linyou glimpsed from the corner of his eye had indeed contained plenty of technical terms.
But when Yin Xigui closed the book yesterday, Sheng Linyou had seen a sheet of paper tucked inside.
It was thin, with a ragged torn edge. An address and a date had been written on it in handwriting unlike Yin Xigui's usual script.
Yin Xigui had slipped the paper out before returning the book to the shelf.
Sheng Linyou closed the book in his hands and glanced at him. Yin Xigui was drinking his congee with his head lowered. His spoon made tiny porcelain clinks against the rim of the bowl. Quiet and obedient.
"That cousin of yours, Yin Rui. What does he usually handle?"
Yin Xigui's spoon stopped in the bowl.
He raised his eyes and blinked at Sheng Linyou, just the right amount of confusion on his face. "Why ask about him all of a sudden?"
"Just curious. The way he carried himself at the teahouse yesterday, he didn't look like someone who only handles the Yin family's internal affairs."
Yin Xigui lowered his head and resumed eating, his voice slightly muffled behind the bowl. "He oversees the family's legitimate businesses—real estate, investments, things like that. My father's getting old, so he leaves a lot of matters to him. Yin Ou and the others can't manage anything. Yin Rui is the one holding it all together."
Sheng Linyou watched him eat. The hand around his spoon was perfectly steady, and not a drop spilled when he lifted the congee.
His pace was neither fast nor slow, his chewing even—exactly as it always was.
Yet Sheng Linyou remembered how Yin Xigui's eyes had reddened and his body trembled the first time he had snapped at him in the underground garage. He remembered how Yin Xigui had watched, breath held, as Sheng Linyou tasted the dishes he had cooked.
He remembered the toes curling against the wooden floor when Yin Xigui had come knocking barefoot in the middle of the night, a pillow clutched in his arms.
Every detail had been so real that there had not been a single flaw.
But yesterday, in the library, Yin Xigui's pupils had contracted at the message faster than any natural reflex.
That was the reaction of trained eyes.
Sheng Linyou set the book on the coffee table and rose. He went to Yin Xigui and took away his empty bowl.
Yin Xigui tipped his face up and smiled. "You're so good to me, gege."
"Enough." Sheng Linyou looked down and brushed his thumb across the corner of Yin Xigui's mouth.
Yin Xigui's lips parted slightly. The tip of his tongue seemed to graze the pad of Sheng Linyou's thumb. The touch was hot, damp, and soft, making his finger still.
He withdrew his hand and turned toward the kitchen to wash the bowl. Behind him, Yin Xigui drawled, "Where are you going today, gege? I want to pick something up from Lin Zhi."
Sheng Linyou turned on the faucet without pausing. Water rushed over the rim of the bowl.
"I'll go with you."
"Lin Zhi said he needs to talk to me alone."
Sheng Linyou shut off the water, placed the clean bowl upside down on the rack, and turned to lean against the counter.
Yin Xigui remained at the dining table, chin propped in both hands as he looked up with an earnest, innocent expression.
"We agreed yesterday that I go with you whenever you leave the house," Sheng Linyou said evenly.
"But Lin Zhi wants to discuss things that wouldn't be convenient for you to hear."
Yin Xigui tilted his head, letting pink hair slip over one shoulder. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen between Lin Zhi and me. You're the only one I like, gege."
Sheng Linyou studied him.
His expression was open, his eyes filled with Sheng Linyou's reflection. Even the curve of his smile was precisely the same as always.
Then Sheng Linyou suddenly remembered something.
After Yin Xigui received that message at the library yesterday, he had excused himself for the restroom, stood at the far end of the corridor, and dialed a number.
Sheng Linyou had been behind a bookcase two rows away. He saw Yin Xigui with his back turned, speaking several quiet sentences. His words came quickly and his voice was pressed flat, utterly unlike his usual soft, lilting tone.
When he ended the call and turned back, his face had already softened into its usual expression. Seeing Sheng Linyou at the end of the shelves, he had even run over smiling and caught his hand.
"What are you doing here, gege?"
"Nothing."
Sheng Linyou pulled himself out of the memory and looked at Yin Xigui across the dining room. He reached out and ruffled the crown of his head, fingers sliding through long pink hair that felt warm and smooth.
"What time are you going?"
"Two this afternoon."
"Come back early."
Yin Xigui's eyes curved into crescents. "I promise. I'll bring you a chestnut cake from the pastry shop on the corner."
With that, he sprang to his feet and ran upstairs to change. His footsteps bounded away up the staircase.
Sheng Linyou stood in the kitchen and looked down at the hand that had just touched Yin Xigui's hair. The warmth still lingered on his fingertips.
A few minutes later, Yin Xigui came back down in a pale sweater and dark trousers, his hair tied in a loose knot at the back of his head.
He ran over and kissed Sheng Linyou's cheek. The moment his lips touched Sheng Linyou's cheekbone, Sheng Linyou turned his head, and the kiss landed at the corner of his mouth instead.
Yin Xigui stepped back and smiled at him.
"I'm leaving, gege."
"Mm."
After the door closed, Sheng Linyou stood in the living room for a while.
The weather was fine today. Sunlight streamed through the windows and spread broad patches of warmth across the floor.
He walked to the coffee table, picked up the gray book, and flipped idly through it. A note slipped from between the pages.
One line was written in Yin Xigui's round, orderly hand: "All account activity under Yin Rui's name, past three years."
Sheng Linyou stared at it for a long time.
He tucked the note back exactly where it had been, closed the book, and placed it on the corner of the coffee table in precisely the same position Yin Xigui had left it.
Then he went to the balcony, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the railing as he smoked.
Yin Xigui had said there were things he could not tell him in full.
Sheng Linyou exhaled smoke through his lips.
Yin Xigui was pretending.
He stubbed out the cigarette.
But of all that weakness and dependence he performed, how much was real and how much was meant for Sheng Linyou to see? For now, he could not tell.
Yet when Yin Xigui kissed the corner of his mouth, his lips had trembled.
That had been real.
Sheng Linyou tossed the cigarette butt into the trash and went back inside.
Sunlight fell across the gray book. He picked it up, turned once more to the page holding the note, and read that line one last time. Then he closed it and returned it to its place.
At two in the afternoon, Yin Xigui left the house.
Sheng Linyou watched from the balcony as he walked away. The little knot of pink hair flashed once at the corner of the alley, then disappeared.
He turned toward the bedroom and took Yin Xigui's old backup tablet from a drawer.
The screen demanded a passcode. He tried Yin Xigui's birthday. Wrong. He tried the date they had first met. Wrong again.
He set the tablet down and leaned against the headboard, thinking. A moment later, he picked it up and entered another string of numbers.
The date of that race two years ago—the day Sheng Linyou had won the championship.
The screen unlocked.
Sheng Linyou stared at its glow for several seconds, then gently turned the tablet face down on the bed.
He opened nothing. He merely returned it to its original place and locked the drawer again.
It was nearly dark when Yin Xigui came home, carrying a paper box. The instant he stepped through the door, he held it up like a treasure. "Chestnut cake! I'll cut you a slice, gege!"
Sheng Linyou watched him shed his coat and hurry into the kitchen for plates, then bent to take the cake box and set it on the dining table.
Yin Xigui came running out with two plates and crashed straight into his chest. His forehead struck with a dull thump.
"Ow—"
Sheng Linyou caught him by the shoulders.
"Slow down."
Yin Xigui tipped up his face with a sheepish smile.
Sheng Linyou tucked a strand of pink hair behind his ear. When his fingertip brushed the shell of it, Yin Xigui shrank back slightly, then smiled with crescent eyes.
"You seem especially nice today, gege."
"How?"
"You just are."
Sheng Linyou did not answer. He watched Yin Xigui carefully set the plate of cake on the table.
Outside, twilight spilled over the treetops and painted the entire sky a tender orange-pink.
Sheng Linyou pulled out a chair and sat. Taking the fork Yin Xigui offered him, he tasted the cloyingly sweet chestnut cake.