Chapter 12

Su Xingchuan gathered himself and carried Li Xuan all the way inside.

The few steps from the door to the bedroom nearly did him in — he was unsteady the whole way, nearly toppling right onto Li Xuan.

Li Xuan smelled like alcohol, but not unpleasantly so.

The tip of Su Xingchuan's nose grazed Li Xuan's forehead without thinking — too close — and his throat moved before he could stop it.

He absolutely wanted to take advantage of the situation, to just collapse on top of Li Xuan and sleep, finally, with his arms around him — a wish he'd been carrying for years. But right now what mattered more was sobering Li Xuan up.

The server had told him Li Xuan had been drinking alone all night — four or five shots of hard liquor by the end, and then he just went down.

Li Xuan had always been good about this. Never touched alcohol. Didn't even like liqueur chocolates.

What tonight had done to his body didn't bear thinking about.

Su Xingchuan took Li Xuan's health seriously — always had. So even with those flushed, soft lips right there in front of him, he held himself together. After a few seconds he pressed both palms into the mattress beside Li Xuan's shoulders and pushed himself upright.

He started with the jacket.

Li Xuan was completely limp, but cooperative enough.

Su Xingchuan dug a set of his own pajamas out of the wardrobe and changed Li Xuan into them.

When he pulled the pants off, he saw a scar on Li Xuan's right knee. He went still. He remembered exactly what it was — they'd been hiking that time, and Li Xuan had slipped. When they broke up, the wound had still been scabbing over.

He hadn't expected it to still be there. A faint brown mark, like a tattoo. A tattoo that said: we loved each other once.

He ran his thumb over it. Li Xuan started making small sounds.

Probably cold — both legs out in the open air.

Su Xingchuan didn't get to look as long as he would've liked. He wrapped a hand around Li Xuan's calf and did what needed doing — got the pajama pants on him, then pulled the duvet up and tucked him in, properly tucked, no gaps.

Worried he'd still be cold, he turned the AC up.

Li Xuan felt the warmth and shifted, rolling over to hug the blanket.

Still slept the same way.

Once Li Xuan was settled, Su Xingchuan went to the kitchen.

He dug through the fridge, turned up some celery and tomatoes, and ran them through the blender — a thick vegetable juice, the kind that cuts through alcohol.

Work came with a lot of socializing. Su Xingchuan was easy to get along with, the kind of person who fit into any room, so the diners and the face-time piled up. He didn't just drink his own share — he ran interference for his boss too. When the other side could hold their liquor, coming home drunk was just part of the job.

After those nights, he'd drag himself to the kitchen and make himself a glass of vegetable juice to settle the acid in his stomach.

He hadn't expected to ever share it with Li Xuan.

He walked over to the bed and called Li Xuan's name.

Li Xuan didn't respond — just got annoyed, yanked the blanket over his head. Su Xingchuan had no choice but to sit on the edge of the bed and fish him back out, coaxing him in a low, easy voice. The same tone he'd used before, a little silly, the kind you'd use on a kid. That was the only thing that worked. Li Xuan finally deigned to crack one eye open, both hands pressing weakly against Su Xingchuan's chest, giving him a halfhearted shove. 'You're so annoying.'

Su Xingchuan took the complaint without argument. He brought the glass to Li Xuan's lips with practiced ease and pinched his chin.

'Babe. Just one sip.' Su Xingchuan coaxed.

Li Xuan took a sip, and Su Xingchuan immediately pushed his luck. 'Half a glass more. Just half. Then you can sleep.'

'It's disgusting.' Li Xuan made a face.

Su Xingchuan tasted it. 'There's way more tomato than celery. Where's the disgusting part?'

He got most of half a glass into Li Xuan before Li Xuan's temper kicked in. He buried his face against Su Xingchuan's neck, indignant and half-crying with it: 'It's awful. You're dead…'

'Dead how?' Su Xingchuan laughed.

Back then, Li Xuan had been utterly spoiled and knew it — threw every little mood without worrying once whether Su Xingchuan minded. But the second Su Xingchuan turned it around and teased him back, Li Xuan would actually get upset. He'd jab his finger into Su Xingchuan's shoulder, over and over: you're bullying me, you're dead.

Li Xuan was drunk enough that he'd probably slipped back seven years. He pressed his face into Su Xingchuan's chest, fist twisted in his collar, and said: 'You're dead, Su Xingchuan. You're gonna end up with no wife.'

Su Xingchuan's heart went a little numb.

Li Xuan had said his name.

Li Xuan had called his name. Su Xingchuan's name.

Did that mean, somewhere in his subconscious, Li Xuan still thought about him — still held onto the good things, still hadn't forgotten those days?

He set the glass on the nightstand and turned back to pull Li Xuan close, the way you hold something you thought you'd lost for good. His hand moved slowly over Li Xuan's back, and he said quietly: 'I never had a wife anymore. My wife got lost seven years ago.'

'Got lost,' Li Xuan murmured, echoing him.

Su Xingchuan dipped his head and kissed him. 'Yeah. Got lost.'

This wasn't the first time Li Xuan had called himself his wife.

He'd never been precious about it.

Those few months they were together, he'd called him every embarrassing thing imaginable — Su Xingchuan never had to prompt him once. Sometimes they'd hear other couples on the street and Li Xuan would pick up whatever they'd said and use it immediately. Su Xingchuan was always caught off guard, ears going hot, clamping a hand over his mouth, laughing despite himself: would you have some dignity.

And Li Xuan would press his lips to the gap between his fingers and say it anyway: husband.

Blink. Perfect picture of innocence.

Su Xingchuan always knew it was deliberate. His heart always lurched anyway.

Seven years later, nothing had changed. One little pout from Li Xuan and his defenses crumbled — straight through to the heart, no resistance.

'Xiao Xuan — did you think about me? All these years?'

Li Xuan didn't answer. He shifted and squirmed, bothered by Su Xingchuan's belt digging into his waist, brow creasing with discomfort.

Su Xingchuan reached down to undo it. He was just pulling it free when Li Xuan's hand settled over his, and his breath caught.

Li Xuan had beautiful hands.

A surgeon's hands — but also hands that had always been looked after, long-fingered and clean, knuckles defined, skin pale as jade.

In winter they were always cold. You had to tuck them inside your jacket for a long time before they warmed up.

'Did you think about me?' Su Xingchuan asked again.

Li Xuan was already fast asleep.

Su Xingchuan took his hand and rubbed the soft flesh between his thumb and forefinger, slow circles, and laughed at himself a little. 'I really missed you.'

'After graduation I kept trying to find out where you'd gone. But you'd cut everyone off. I asked your roommate, I asked your classmates — nobody knew anything.'

'I just wanted to know how you were doing. Whether you were okay. Whether you were happy. Whether anyone was looking after you.'

'Honestly, I was all over the place about it. Part of me wanted you to be doing great. Part of me wanted you to be miserable enough to come back to me.'

'Why did you leave?'

'After everything I did for you. Ungrateful little thing.'

Li Xuan, annoyed by the noise, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pressed it over his own ear.

Su Xingchuan curved his mouth up, helpless.

He still didn't know why Li Xuan had gone out drinking like that. He had a feeling it had something to do with him — and was afraid he was flattering himself.

He slipped off his belt, shifted down, and pressed his forehead against Li Xuan's, feeling the quiet rhythm of his breath.

Li Xuan slept soundly.

Su Xingchuan watched him and blew a soft puff of air at his face. Li Xuan's brow creased just slightly, his long curled lashes fluttering.

Su Xingchuan pinched his ear, voice dropping into something aggrieved. 'What's so great about Xu Zhengdong? He was all over the place when he was young — he could've sold you out and'd never even know. I'm the only one who'd always be good to you. You understand that?'

Li Xuan felt the tickle and started burrowing deeper into the blanket.

Su Xingchuan kissed him.

Caught his lips and held them there, careful with it, like he was holding something he couldn't afford to break.

Breath burning, pulse ragged, heartbeat gone completely out of his control — Su Xingchuan wanted to take him apart and keep every piece.

Li Xuan actually kissed back. Kept pressing closer into him. Su Xingchuan was losing his grip on himself — he was about to roll over and pin him down — but he stopped. He buried his face in the curve of Li Xuan's neck and breathed in, slow and deep.

After washing up, he slipped into bed beside Li Xuan.

He'd told himself he'd leave in the middle of the night. But the moment he had Li Xuan in his arms and closed his eyes, sleep hit him fast.

He hadn't expected to go under that quickly.

He couldn't even remember how many minutes it took. All he knew was that when he opened his eyes again, it was morning.

He'd slept deep and clean.

Not a single dream. Just darkness, and then light.

Su Xingchuan woke up disoriented for a few seconds, suddenly terrified that all of it — driving to the hotel, bringing Li Xuan home — had been a dream. One of those vivid, aching dreams he'd been having for years. The kind where you wake up and the pillow beside you is cold and empty and none of it was real.

He held his breath and reached over to feel the sheets.

Empty. Cold.

His stomach dropped — like the floor had vanished and he was falling.

He turned to look. Li Xuan wasn't there.

Gone.

It really was a dream? It was?

Then — a crash from the bathroom. Something hitting tile, the distinct sound of glass shattering.

Su Xingchuan stared for a second. Then he bolted.

Li Xuan was crouched on the floor picking up broken glass.

Wearing his pajamas. Hair a complete mess.

He startled when Su Xingchuan came barreling in — looked up with his heart still not back in his chest, eyes gone wide.

Su Xingchuan's breathing hadn't settled. His chest was heaving, and with his height and the way he filled the doorframe, he looked furious — like he was two seconds away from demanding answers.

For a moment Li Xuan forgot the cool front he usually wore. He pouted without thinking — a flicker of something almost like hurt, barely visible.

'You didn't close the lid properly. That's not on me...'

Same as always. The moment something went wrong, he found a way to make it Su Xingchuan's fault.

Su Xingchuan let out a slow breath.

How to describe what he felt right then? The dread that had been sitting in his chest settled soft as cotton. Relief, elation, the giddy rush of someone who'd just made it out alive — it all hit him at once, like rain.

Found again. Reunited after so long.

For the first time, he thought: I'm lucky.

Li Xuan slowly got to his feet and set the half-empty cream jar on the edge of the sink. 'I'll pay you back,' he muttered under his breath.

When he knew he was in the wrong, the confidence drained right out of him. His voice got small.

Su Xingchuan leaned against the doorframe and prodded him on purpose. 'Sure. I think that one was over a thousand.'

'Fine. A thousand's a thousand.'

Third-generation money. Doctor Li couldn't care less.

He moved to squeeze past Su Xingchuan and out of the bathroom, but Su Xingchuan didn't budge — shoulder solid as a wall, completely immovable. The small space was thick with the scent of the cream. Li Xuan was swimming in Su Xingchuan's cotton pajamas, the sleeves swallowing his fingers whole. Su Xingchuan looked at him and felt something give way in his chest. They shouldn't be whatever they were now. They should've been together for years by now.

'Do you remember what happened last night?' he asked, out of nowhere.

Li Xuan went still.

Su Xingchuan deliberately dropped his gaze to Li Xuan's collar, his tone edged with mischief. 'Doctor Li, you're just as clingy as you used to be. Wouldn't let go of me all night. Kept burrowing into my arms.'

The color drained from Li Xuan's face.

'And you kept calling me husband.'

The hand hidden in his sleeve snapped into a fist. 'Stop it,' he snapped. 'Shut up!'

'Why were you at a bar drinking alone last night?'

Li Xuan instinctively looked away.'That's none of your business,' he said, jaw tight. 'I didn't ask you to come get me.'

'No good deed goes unpunished. Just like before.'

Li Xuan couldn't stand him bringing up the past like this, again and again. He shoved himself into the gap between Su Xingchuan and the door frame, shouldered past him, and bolted out of the bathroom.

His shirt and pants were by the bed. He grabbed them and yanked them on in a panic, buttons all wrong, then snatched up his coat and headed for the door.

'At least eat something,' Su Xingchuan called after him.

Li Xuan's feet stopped.

Part of him wanted to stay. His head wouldn't let him.

He didn't answer. He put his shoes on and left without a word.

Su Xingchuan had seen it coming, so he didn't push. He stood by the entryway for a long time — all the way until he should've been leaving for work — before he finally came back to himself, out of that impossibly perfect morning.

He went back to the bedroom and looked at the warm, rumpled bed. When would he get to fall asleep holding Li Xuan again?

Seven years of insomnia, still not healed. Li Xuan was probably the only cure.

.

Meanwhile.

Li Xuan's mother pushed open his bedroom door to call him for breakfast and found he hadn't come home. She tried his phone right away — off. She called again and again. Every time, off.

Li Xuan's father was abroad on a business trip, and without him she had no anchor. She called Xu Zhengdong over immediately and asked him to find Li Xuan somehow. 'Xuanxuan's been carrying something heavy lately. This can't go on — someone needs to be looking after him.'

Xu Zhengdong finished a call, turned back, and tried to calm her down. 'Jiejie, don't panic. I actually have someone in mind — age, looks, temperament, all good fit for Xiaoxuan. I'll get them together in a couple of days. Don't cry. It'll be fine.'

Xu Zhengdong reached out to a few friends, and after some searching they traced Li Xuan to a bar on Changting Street.

His friend's expression was serious. 'Director Xu, the security camera at this entrance caught Xiao Xuan on footage, but —'

Xu Zhengdong's chest tightened. 'But what?'

'Xiaoxuan was carried out by a man.'

Xu Zhengdong slammed the table and shot to his feet. 'What?'

His friend's face fell too. He turned the screen toward Xu Zhengdong and zoomed in on the footage, pointing. 'Come look at this.'

Xu Zhengdong moved in immediately.

11:49 PM the night before. The front door of Grey Shore Bar swung open — a server-type came out first, then turned back to wave someone through. A few seconds later, a tall man in black casual wear walked out carrying Li Xuan.

Li Xuan was clearly drunk, arms hanging limp at his sides.

Xu Zhengdong's heart lurched straight into his throat. 'Who is that?' he snapped, fury barely contained. 'Zoom in more.'

His friend tensed alongside him and immediately told the bar staff to push the footage as far as it would go. 'Mr. Xu, I'll call the police.'

'Already done,' Xu Zhengdong said, voice low and hard. 'When I get my hands on this guy, I'll —'

He stopped mid-sentence.

As the image sharpened, the man in black came into focus. Xu Zhengdong studied the face — something familiar about it. Then the man turned his head slightly and gave the server a small smile.

Xu Zhengdong went still.

Su Xingchuan? How was it him?