GT chapter 2

Unless he was out with friends or stuck at work, Luo Jin usually got into bed before midnight—sometimes even at 11:59.

So now, seeing the clock ticking close to twelve, his biological clock kicked in, and drowsiness swept over him.

His eyelids drooped heavily as he leaned against the doorframe, half-asleep, his soul practically floating off to dreamland.

Duan Xingchi watched him for a while. When he’d returned from Country Y, his father had told him a few things about Luo Jin.

Nine years older than him—well, eight if you counted by lunar age—since Luo Jin’s birthday came later in the year.

But seeing him in person, Luo Jin didn’t look that much older. In fact, his behavior was even a little childish, though they’d only known each other for a few hours.

Other than the age gap, the only things he knew were that Luo Jin was the son of G City’s biggest real estate tycoon, had no bad habits, and his only hobbies were social dinners and working out.

That, at least, they had in common.

As Duan Xingchi walked closer, he noticed that Luo Jin had actually fallen asleep leaning against the doorframe. His long eyelashes cast faint shadows under his eyes, his lips slightly puckered — probably an unconscious habit in sleep. It made him look even less like a twenty-seven-year-old man.

He stared at Luo Jin’s profile, wondering what to call him. Technically, he should say ge (older brother), but since he’d grown up abroad—even though he’d learned Chinese since childhood—he was still used to calling people by their names directly.

Forget it, he thought. It doesn’t matter what I call him. He’s half-asleep anyway — he won’t care.

“Luo Jin? Go sleep on the bed.”

“Mm… huh?”

Luo Jin opened his eyes and, bonelessly, propped himself up against the wall, looking half-drunk with sleep.

Squinting at Duan Xingchi, he mumbled, completely out of it, “Where’d this handsome guy come from? Why’re you in my house?”

Duan Xingchi didn’t bother answering. He just repeated, “Go to bed.”

Luo Jin staggered into the bedroom. Worried he might fall, Duan Xingchi followed behind and watched as he collapsed face-first onto the bed. After hesitating for a moment, he sighed and kindly rolled him over.

Good thing Luo Jin had changed into pajamas earlier, otherwise Duan Xingchi really wouldn’t have known how to undress him.

As Duan Xingchi was moving him around, Luo Jin mumbled suddenly, “Don’t call me Luo Jin—call me ge”

Duan Xingchi thought he was awake, but when he looked up, the man was still fast asleep.

“Troublesome,” Duan Xingchi muttered under his breath. He went to the guest room across from Luo Jin’s bedroom to make the bed.

He found a set of unused sheets and covers in the closet. It wasn’t exactly polite to use someone else’s things without permission, but as someone who had been pampered all his life, Duan Xingchi couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable at the thought of sleeping on bedding that others had used.

By the time he finished setting up, it was just past 1 a.m. Having lived abroad for over a decade, he couldn’t adjust to the new time zone right away. After washing up, he video-called his family, closing the door so he wouldn’t wake Luo Jin.

“Xiao Chi, how does it feel to be back?”

“Not bad.”

“The college entrance exam isn’t until June there. Go over what you’ve studied so you don’t forget it.”

“I know, Mom.”

Duan Xingchi had attended a Chinese high school in Country Y, where almost all the students were Chinese, and the curriculum was nearly identical to that of schools in China. However, the exam schedule followed Country Y’s system, so his graduation came half a year earlier than China’s national college entrance exam.

He’d been enrolled in that school precisely so he could eventually return to China. The Duan family had been in business overseas since his grandfather’s generation—decades by now—and his parents, Duan Cunshan and Qi Qing, had settled there as well. But as they got older, nostalgia for home had grown stronger. They wanted Duan Xingchi to return sooner, and perhaps, in time, to shift the company’s focus back to China.

Since that was the plan, they had already transferred his student record to a high school in G City. To help him adjust to local life before the exam, they sent him back three months early.

“Are you getting along well with your Luo Jin-ge?”

Just hearing the words “Luo Jin-ge” made Duan Xingchi’s skin crawl with goosebumps. “We’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“I know you tend to keep a straight face around people you don’t know, but remember, you’re living in someone else’s home now. Luo Jin is looking after you, so try to adapt quickly.”

“I know, Mom. I will.”

“It must be the middle of the night there. Try to sleep, Xiao Chi. Don’t stick to your Country Y schedule—you’ll never adjust that way.”

“Okay, I’ll go to sleep after this.”

He set an alarm for 8 a.m. Coming back early had been the right move—there was an eight-hour time difference between Country Y and China. His bedtime here was around three or four in the afternoon back there. Normally, he’d just be waking up from a nap at that hour, wide awake. Plus, he’d already “napped” in the car earlier, so he wasn’t sleepy at all now.

And when it was time to wake up—at 8 a.m. local time—it would be noon back in Country Y, right when he used to take his midday nap.

His schedule was completely reversed. He figured it would take some time to adjust.

Setting his phone on the nightstand, he turned off the light and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. As expected, it didn’t go smoothly the first night. He tossed and turned until four or five in the morning before finally dozing off, only to be jolted awake by his alarm shortly after.

The loud ringing startled him. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, silenced the alarm, and lay there with his eyes closed for a few more minutes before deciding to get up.

Luo Jin’s bedroom door was open, the bed neatly made, but he was nowhere to be seen. Duan Xingchi went downstairs to look for him, but the house was empty—except for a note on the table in Luo Jin’s handwriting.

Xiao Chi,
I’ve gone to work. You were still asleep when I left. I know you’re adjusting to the time difference, so if you wake up late, just heat breakfast in the microwave. If you don’t know how, call me. I’ve left you my phone number.
I also got you a local SIM card—just insert it and it’ll work.
I wasn’t sure what you like to eat, so I made a lot of different things. Don’t worry about leftovers; I’ll clean up when I get back.

All the food was covered, still warm—it seemed Luo Jin hadn’t been gone long. There were both Chinese and Western dishes, quite a spread. Duan Xingchi couldn’t imagine how early Luo Jin must’ve gotten up to make all this.

He thought to himself, Seems like Luo Jin is a bit more reliable today than he was yesterday.

Luo Jin hadn’t lied—he really could cook. Duan Xingchi ate what he liked, and after glancing at the remaining dishes, hesitated briefly before deciding to follow Luo Jin’s note literally: Don’t worry about leftovers.

After breakfast, he found himself with nothing to do. He was so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open. Jet lag wasn’t impossible to overcome—frequent travelers could adjust quickly—but for someone like him, changing his entire schedule for the first time was tough.

He didn’t know how many times he nodded off before finally picking up his phone and calling Luo Jin.

Meanwhile, Luo Jin had woken up right on time as usual. Thinking back on last night, he remembered that Duan Xingchi had told him to sleep on the bed—so maybe the kid wasn’t as cold or distant as he seemed.

They had just met, and Luo Jin didn’t know much about him yet.

After washing up, he noticed Duan Xingchi’s door was closed and heard nothing inside—so he assumed he must still be sleeping.

He wondered how the “young master” had slept his first night.

Then he went to the kitchen and made breakfast. He hadn’t had the chance to ask what Duan Xingchi liked, so he just made a variety of things.

In all his years living alone, this was the first time he’d cooked such an elaborate breakfast.

One portion for himself, and one for the still-sleeping Duan Xingchi.

He’d wanted to wait for him to wake up, but since work was calling and the house stayed quiet, he left a note and headed out.

At the office, his assistant Lin Beibei, as usual, gave her morning report. At the end, she couldn’t resist asking, “Mr. Luo, how’s it going with the young master from the Duan family?”

Luo Jin nodded. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“That’s good, that’s good.” Lin Beibei sighed in relief.

“You asking because my dad told you to?” Luo Jin raised an eyebrow.

Lin Beibei had just been curious—she wouldn’t dare use the chairman as a shield. She admitted honestly, “No, I just wanted to know.”

Afraid that Luo Jin might think she was being nosy, Lin Beibei quickly added, “I met that young master Duan once when I accompanied the chairman to Country Y. At the time, he struck me as a rather cold kid — not very easy to get along with. I was just worried you two might not get along.”

When Lin Beibei first graduated, she worked as Luo Hui’s personal secretary. Luo Hui had found her quick-witted and efficient, and after he decided to step back from the frontlines, he arranged for her to become Luo Jin’s assistant instead. So if she had seen Duan Xingchi, it must have been three or four years ago, when he was around fourteen or fifteen.

That being the case, his aloofness must be something he showed to everyone, not just to Luo Jin.

“No problem,” Luo Jin said lightly. “By the way, his luggage is still in storage at the airport. Go pick it up later — I’ll send you the code.”

“Okay, got it.”

Luo Jin tossed her his car keys. “Take my car.”

“Got it.”

Just as Lin Beibei took the keys and was about to leave, Luo Jin’s phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw it was from the new number he’d gotten for Duan Xingchi.

So he’s already awake, Luo Jin thought.

He put the call on speaker. “Awake?”

“Mm.”

“Had breakfast?”

“Mm.”

“What’s up?”

“Do you have coffee?”

“Yes. What kind do you wa—”

Before he could finish, the still-drowsy Duan Xingchi interrupted, “Americano.”

“There’s a rack on the kitchen table. Help yourself.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

As soon as Luo Jin said that, the call was hung up.

In total, Duan Xingchi had said eleven words.

What a little block of ice — as if saying one more word would cost him money.

Luo Jin thought Lin Beibei had been right: Duan Xingchi really wasn’t easy to get along with.

Still, even though he didn’t like having his solitary life disturbed, since the situation couldn’t be changed, he figured he should at least try to build some kind of rapport. After all, they’d be living together for five or six months — they couldn’t really go on treating each other like polite strangers forever. That would just be uncomfortable.

The little young master probably wouldn’t take the initiative, so he’d have to be the one to make the effort.

…..

Duan Xingchi found the Americano on Luo Jin’s coffee rack. It seemed Luo Jin drank coffee often — he had all kinds neatly arranged there.

The Americano, made without sugar or milk and with a double shot of espresso, was so bitter it could make a person shiver, but Duan Xingchi drank it calmly, without a change in expression.

After about ten minutes, the caffeine started to kick in, and he felt a little more awake.

To keep himself from dozing off again, he grabbed his tablet and put on a movie.

It was the classic gay film Brokeback Mountain.

He couldn’t even remember how many times he’d watched it — enough that he knew almost every line by heart.

He had known for a long, long time that he liked boys. There hadn’t been any adolescent dreams or crushes; he just knew.
Now, he liked men.

To his friends and even his family, it wasn’t a big deal — after all, same-sex marriage had long been legalized in Country Y.

So of course Luo Jin didn’t know that, during their first meeting, when Duan Xingchi stared at him for those few seconds, it was because he was already making a judgment in his mind:

This man — was definitely straight.