Zhou Zefeng had fallen into a trap.
If time could turn back to half an hour ago, Zhou Zefeng would have definitely left this place without looking back, so that he wouldn’t be tied to a chair right now and was unable to move even an inch.
He struggled frantically, but with tape sealing his mouth shut, only muffled whimper escaped him. The corners of his eyes were bloodshot as he glared at the cold, detached man in front of him.
The man calmly slipped on a pair of latex gloves, then patted Zhou Zefeng on the cheek. The lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses mirrored the dark clouds gathering beyond the window; heavy rain was about to break.
His expression was solemn to the point of cruelty, yet the words that left his mouth were exceedingly gentle, “Be good. Gege likes obedient puppies.”
All of Zhou Zefeng’s roars and gasps were intercepted by the static tape. His body felt as though it had been afflicted by some deadly curse, and the source of it was the very hand now igniting flames across every inch of Zhou Zefeng’s body.
He had seen those hands before; fair and slender, but now, covered in latex gloves, they looked even more austere and detached. The man’s features were cold and detached, with a high bridge of the nose and a tear mole at the corner of his eye, all set off by a meticulously worn white shirt.
Zhou Zefeng had never thought Duan Kai would deceive him.
Turning back to a few days earlier, everything began with Zhou Zefeng’s gradually dwindling supply of socks and underwear.
He never would have imagined that his roommate Duan Kai, who made extra money selling “original flavor” items, would actually start stealing his underwear and socks because demand had outpaced supply; then selling them at high prices to men in a group chat willing to pay top dollar.
Zhou Zefeng hadn’t thought twice before throwing a punch right at Duan Kai’s face. The two of them scuffled together and ultimately ended up in the counselor’s office.
Duan Kai had a good attitude about admitting his fault and apologized to Zhou Zefeng sincerely.
That night, Duan Kai treated Zhou Zefeng to dinner, and they both ended up drinking heavily. In his drunken state, Zhou Zefeng patted Duan Kai on the shoulder and spoke without restraint, “Weren’t you the one who wanted to die over your breakup with your girlfriend back then? Why the sudden change in taste?”
Zhou Zefeng remembered Duan Kai’s face turning red, and him barely managing to force out, “I’m not.”
Back in the dorm, Zhou Zefeng lay on his bed. His body was utterly drained, yet his mind was unusually alert. He stared unblinkingly into a fixed point in the darkness while listening to his roommate’s snoring and occasional grinding of teeth. He didn’t know how much time had passed; in a trance, he thought he had fallen asleep, but upon subtly moving his pinky finger, he realized he was still wide awake.
Ever since returning from his academic suspension, Zhou Zefeng had been suffering from constant insomnia.
His fight today hadn’t really been out of extreme rage either, but rather harbored a selfish motive—the pain, confusion, anxiety, and insomnia he experienced after taking a leave of absence due to an injury. All of those emotions needed an outlet. Training in the swimming pool was usually far from sufficient. He had thought that after letting it all out today, he would finally be able to sleep in peace. He hadn’t expected to face yet another sleepless night.
He had tried to find solutions as well, but ever since childhood, he avoided hospitals unless it was absolutely necessary. After attempting several online remedies to little effect, and with his usually packed training schedule, the issue was repeatedly delayed and pushed aside; until it reached a point where he could no longer ignore it.
The next morning, when Duan Kai got up and was brushing his teeth, he saw Zhou Zefeng with bloodshot eyes and dark circles like a panda, looking so startled he thought he’d seen a ghost.
“Are you having insomnia again?” Duan Kai mumbled around his toothbrush. “Can you even train today?”
Zhou Zefeng nodded, spat out his foam, hung up his towel, and got ready to change clothes.
Duan Kai walked out the door with him for once, and suddenly said on the way, “I used to suffer from insomnia a lot back in high school. My mom took me to a highly reputed local traditional Chinese medicine doctor, Doctor Lao, who was especially good at treating insomnia. I just remembered it now; if you’re interested, I can give you his contact details and address.”
Zhou Zefeng’s head was buzzing, so he agreed noncommittally and didn’t think much of it. A few days later, Duan Kai said he had booked an appointment for him right on the next day as the doctor just happened to be free.
Zhou Zefeng didn’t expect Duan Kai to be so enthusiastic and assumed it was just his way of making up for a past mistake, so he didn’t think anything of it.
It was only when he arrived at the location that he realized something was off.
Standing at the entrance of the residential complex, Zhou Zefeng stared at the address on his phone, lost in thought.
The old doctor of traditional Chinese medicine Duan Kai mentioned… actually lived here? This place was way too high-end. Maybe this old doctor really did have some serious skills, or else he wouldn’t be able to afford a house in such a prime location.
Following the address, Zhou Zefeng stopped at the door and pressed the doorbell. When it opened, the first thing he saw was a tall, lean young man who looked to be around twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old.
He was dressed in a well-tailored suit and gold-rimmed glasses with refined, handsome features, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. Yet he carried an aura that clearly signaled “keep your distance.” Zhou Zefeng raised his hand to greet him, but the man merely looked him up and down once before nodding slightly, signaling for Zhou Zefeng to follow him inside.
Zhou Zefeng frowned—what kind of god-awful attitude was that?!
Right then, a huge, snowy-white fluffball bolted out like the wind. Only when it started happily circling around Lu Zhao’s feet did Zhou Zefeng realize clearly that it was a Samoyed.
Lu Zhao knelt down, and a rare smile broke across his otherwise cold expression as he stroked the dog happily frolicking in his arms. The person and the dog completely left the guest, Zhou Zefeng, hanging on the side.
The dog noticed Zhou Zefeng, slipped out of its owner’s embrace, and looked at him curiously. Zhou Zefeng also bent down to pat its head. The Samoyed tilted its head up and nuzzled against Zhou Zefeng’s hand with a thoroughly content expression.
“Let’s go upstairs. Xuebing, you stay here, you’re not allowed to go up.” Lu Zhao finally spoke, his voice matching his persona.
Zhou Zefeng thought to himself that the elderly doctor probably didn’t like dogs, which was why it wasn’t allowed upstairs.
Zhou Zefeng looked around at his surroundings as they walked upstairs. It was a duplex apartment with a rather cold decor, so clean that it didn’t feel lived-in at all. Black, white, and gray dominated Zhou Zefeng’s visual space.
This was a bit unexpected for Zhou Zefeng. He had assumed the home of a highly respected old doctor of traditional Chinese medicine would feature antique-style Chinese decor. He hadn’t expected the aesthetic to be so intense—though, looking at the man leading him up to the second floor, he assumed this might be the old doctor’s son, and that the house had likely been purchased for his father.
There were several rooms on the second floor. The man led Zhou Zefeng into one of them, and before Zhou Zefeng could carefully look around, the man behind him suddenly shut the door.
Strange, where was the old doctor?
Seeing Zhou Zefeng looking all over the place, the man frowned and asked, “Who are you looking for? It’s just the two of us here.”
???
“Ah?” Zhou Zefeng pulled out his phone to check it repeatedly, asking in surprise, “Could it be that you are the ‘Old’ doctor my classmate talked about?”
“Yes, that’s right. How did you know my surname is ‘Lao’?” The man covered his mouth and coughed.
Good grief, old traditional Chinese doctor, old traditional Chinese doctor; so, it’s actually a doctor with the surname Lao[mfn]Lao means old.[/mfn]?
Zhou Zefeng felt like he had been set up by Duan Kai, which had led to him making a fool of himself as well. He coughed awkwardly as well, speaking uncomfortably, “Then, Mr. Lao… how do we begin?”
Whatever, as long as it could cure his insomnia, it didn’t matter. Who knew, maybe the guy had deep expertise despite his lack of seniority?
“Sit on the chair by the window and then take off your clothes.”
Zhou Zefeng: ???
