Zhou Zefeng slept until dusk began to fall, only waking up when Xuebing licked him.
It took him a moment to realize where he was. After fumbling around for a bit, he found the light switch and turned it on, only to find Xuebing’s face right in front of him, smiling with an utterly innocent and harmless expression.
Zhou Zefeng found his phone in his pocket. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, his fingers rapidly tapped out a string of exquisitely colorful Chinese curses on the keyboard. But the nap he had just taken had been surprisingly comfortable; Lu Zhao’s pillow was quite soft, and the fluffy fur beneath his hand, belonging to Xuebing, had also been pleasantly plush. Zhou Zefeng’s mood suddenly wasn’t quite so terrible anymore, so he deleted what he had typed and replaced it with a different message:
[Duan Kai, you just wait.]
Duan Kai didn’t reply, but Zhou Zefeng could guess his motive. The instant he tore off his tie and noticed the tripod and camera set up nearby, he knew exactly what was going on.
He just didn’t understand why Duan Kai had gone to such extremes. It was also a stroke of luck for Duan Kai that both he and Lu Zhao had somehow failed to clarify things with each other; Duan Kai’s plan was completely full of holes, yet he had actually managed to pull it off.
Still, it was pretty comfortable. Much more enjoyable than doing it himself.
Except for the fact that the partner was a guy—the moment he thought of that, the mood was instantly ruined.
Raising his eyes, Zhou Zefeng spotted the very sofa he had been sitting on that afternoon. Not long ago, he had been sitting right there with his cock held as he drifted through a sea of desire, and he had even lost control and pinned Lu Zhao beneath him… The moment Lu Zhao came to mind, Zhou Zefeng mentally hit the brakes, determined to scrub those images from his memory.
After getting dressed, he found himself inexplicably drawn toward the sofa. There, on the coffee table, lay a tiny golden osmanthus blossom, resting quietly as if it had been left behind on purpose. He picked it up with utmost care and sniffed it; it smelled like autumn.
Without quite understanding why, Zhou Zefeng tucked the osmanthus flower into his pocket.
The growl of his stomach dragged Zhou Zefeng out of his muddled, wandering thoughts and back to reality. He slipped on his shoes, and the moment he stepped outside, he saw Lu Zhao sitting on the sofa. His gold-rimmed glasses had been swapped for a pair of black-rimmed ones with a laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
His gaze was fixed on the screen, so focused that he seemed utterly oblivious to Zhou Zefeng’s presence. He appeared to be in the middle of a video conference, casually mentioning things like “returning to the country.”
A layer of sweat clung to Zhou Zefeng’s skin, leaving him feeling sticky and uncomfortable. He asked, “Can I use your bathroom to take a shower?”
Lu Zhao finally looked up and said, “Sure.”
Zhou Zefeng took a quick combat-style shower in the unfamiliar bathroom, only to discover that for a grown man, Lu Zhao’s body wash and shampoo were all orange-scented. As Zhou Zefeng washed himself, he had the illusion that he was turning into a giant orange too.
However, it wasn’t until he finished washing that he realized the awkward predicament he was in—he had forgotten to borrow clothes from Lu Zhao. Glancing at the sweat-soaked, foul-smelling clothes in the laundry basket and then at the oversized bath towel hanging on the rack, he made his choice without hesitation and wrapped the towel around his waist.
The moment Zhou Zefeng stepped out of the bathroom, the mouthwatering aroma of food being cooked drifted into his nose. Xuebing was waiting by the door, and the instant it saw him emerge, it began weaving around his legs in circles. Zhou Zefeng crouched down and gave the dog’s head a firm, enthusiastic rub, then followed Xuebing as it led him by the scent down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, he saw Lu Zhao standing at the stove, wearing an apron and busily cooking.
Lu Zhao didn’t notice him, so Zhou Zefeng stood openly behind him while observing his back.
He had to admit that the moment Lu Zhao took off his suit, changed into loungewear, and replaced his gold-rimmed glasses with black-rimmed ones, the sharp, untouchable edge about him faded away, replaced instead by a softer, more approachable warmth. The entire person seemed noticeably younger, almost like the friendly older brother next door.
Zhou Zefeng was startled by his own thoughts. He suddenly recalled Lu Zhao’s darkly playful teasing from that afternoon, and a chill immediately ran down his spine.
“Where are your clothes?” Lu Zhao asked without turning his head, presumably having caught a glimpse of Zhou Zefeng’s bare white flesh in the reflection of the range hood’s mirrored surface as he set the chopped ribs into the stew pot.
“My clothes are dirty. Can I borrow a change of clothes?” Zhou Zefeng felt a delayed wave of awkwardness wash over him. But on second thought, they were both men; bodies like that were everywhere in dorm bathrooms and on basketball courts. So, what was there really to be fussed about?
“Keep an eye on the fire for me here.” Lu Zhao untied his apron and glanced at Zhou Zefeng as he walked past him.
The moment Lu Zhao spoke, Zhou Zefeng instantly recalled his actual image in his mind, any gentleness or approachability was nothing but a fleeting illusion.
When Lu Zhao returned, he was surprised to find that Zhou Zefeng had gone above and beyond his task. Not only was he watching the fire perfectly well, but he had also started making braised pork on his own as well.
He stood behind Zhou Zefeng, his gaze slowly traveling over him from head to toe as if assessing him.
With only a single white bath towel wrapped around his waist and an apron tied over his middle, his back muscles were strikingly well-defined, his waist slim, his hips firm, and his legs long and powerful; it was an almost flawless physique.
Lu Zhao hadn’t leaned against the doorway watching for long before Zhou Zefeng noticed him. Keeping busy with his hands, Zhou Zefeng said nonchalantly, “Since there aren’t many dishes anyway, no need to swap out. Go sit down and wait to eat.”
“Aren’t you going to put on clothes?”
“We’re both men, what does it matter?”
Zhou Zefeng hadn’t yet realized the gravity of the situation; his eyes were fixed solely on his braised pork.
Lu Zhao walked over and sat at the dining table, watching Zhou Zefeng’s back the way one might study a plate of braised pork; his gaze growing increasingly satisfied the longer he looked.
Ten minutes later, the food was served on the table. Zhou Zefeng was so starved that he furiously inhaled three bowls of rice, devouring it so ravenously that Lu Zhao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Have you been starving for half your life? Don’t choke to death.” Lu Zhao pointed toward the soup next to him, then shifted the conversation, “Though I didn’t expect you to know how to cook.”
Zhou Zefeng gulped down some soup and said, “I learned it when I was abroad before; otherwise, I would’ve starved to death.”
The two shared dinner in silence, the atmosphere instantly becoming incredibly bizarre. After a long moment of holding it in, Zhou Zefeng finally lifted his head from his rice bowl and said awkwardly, “The person who made the appointment with you today actually wasn’t me. I thought you were really an old traditional Chinese medicine doctor. I’m sorry.”
Lu Zhao had vaguely guessed as much. He picked up a piece of braised pork, popped it into his mouth, and asked, “So you aren’t that online adult influencer with the ID ‘Smelly Foot Sports Student’?”
The name made a flicker of disgust run through Zhou Zefeng. He shifted uncomfortably and said, “That’s my roommate.”
Zhou Zefeng briefly explained how the whole situation had come about. He didn’t mention his feud with Duan Kai, describing it merely as a prank between classmates.
He looked up at Lu Zhao, whose face remained expressionless, as if he weren’t surprised in the least.
The atmosphere fell into a stalemate, each of them lost in their own concealed thoughts. One quietly sipped soup while the other ate meat. For a while, the only sounds in the dining room were the clinking of bowls and chopsticks, along with Xuebing playing with a toy in the living room.
Zhou Zefeng assumed the man in front of him had probably also ended up meeting the wrong person, and after such a huge mix-up, must find the entire situation extremely vexing. Even though they were both technically victims of the mix-up, he decided he should still apologize one more time later, then hurry back to school before curfew; treating everything that had happened today as just a…
“Since you feel sorry, have you thought about how you’re going to compensate me?”
Zhou Zefeng’s face went completely dumbfounded.
“I’ve seen the video of you taking a shower.”
“Huh… HUH???” Zhou Zefeng looked up in surprise, meeting Lu Zhao’s deep, dark eyes.
Lu Zhao smiled. “You have a great body.”
Zhou Zefeng: …Even though I know that myself, what am I supposed to say?? Thank you???
“Thank—”
Zhou Zefeng was cut off again as Lu Zhao dropped another bombshell out of nowhere, “Are you interested in staying over at my place tonight?”
Zhou Zefeng breathed a sigh of relief. Scared him to death; so it was just a polite invitation for a guest to stay the night. He decided to politely decline, “I won’t trouble you. It’s not far from my school, and there’s still some time before curfew, so later I’ll…”
This time, Zhou Zefeng was interrupted yet again, but not because Lu Zhao cut off his words. Instead, Lu Zhao’s slightly cool foot pressed against Zhou Zefeng’s calf, his toes tracing slow circles along it, with an unmistakable intent to move higher.
Goosebumps broke out all over Zhou Zefeng’s body instantly. No matter how dense he was, he understood Lu Zhao’s meaning now. He looked at Lu Zhao, who sat there above the table casually eating his meal, while beneath the table, his foot was pressed against another man’s calf. Indignation flared in Zhou Zefeng’s heart: There is a gay guy right here next to me!!!
Zhou Zefeng seized Lu Zhao’s foot firmly and refused to let go. Full of righteous indignation, he blurted out, “You fucking… I’m not gay! I’m straight!”
Lu Zhao gave a half-smile, and his foot shifted as if it intended to press toward Zhou Zefeng’s crotch, only to be intercepted just in time.
“Really?”
“Not only am I not gay, I’m actually homophobic as well! Do you get it? I’m fucking not! …”
Zhou Zefeng’s words rang out forcefully in his panic. Feeling a little rebuffed, Lu Zhao withdrew his foot and went on eating as if nothing had happened, his expression unchanged, as though the incident had never occurred at all.
“I don’t mean to discriminate; I just can’t accept it. I like girls. Today was just a misunderstanding, you…” Zhou Zefeng’s hand felt empty, and a sudden wave of irritation flared in his chest. “…Can you delete that video? …”
“Yeah, I’ll delete it in a bit. Let’s just pretend today never happened. The way you were acting this afternoon made me think you were playing hard to get with me,” Lu Zhao said, putting the half-bitten piece of braised pork back into his bowl. He pulled out a tissue to wipe his mouth and looked Zhou Zefeng dead in the eye. “Once you’re done eating, hurry back. Put your clothes on and have a safe trip. I won’t see you out.”
And just like that, Zhou Zefeng was kicked out.
Standing at the entrance of the residential complex, he let the wind wash over him for a while to cool down, and only then did the heat and agitation in his lower body finally subside. Zhou Zefeng never smoked, but right now, he completely understood why other people wanted to.
What a fucking mess this day had been!
By the time he got back to the dorm, the lights were already out and his roommates were all fast asleep. Physically and mentally drained, Zhou Zefeng suppressed the urge to drag Duan Kai out of bed and beat him up, instead forcing himself into his own bunk.
He was still wearing Lu Zhao’s clothes. Aside from the underwear being a bit tight, the shirt and shorts were soft and skin friendly. They still carried a faint, lingering scent of oranges; likely from some kind of laundry detergent, and sniffing it made him feel inexplicably at peace.
Zhou Zefeng hadn’t slept well in a long time. Even though he had slept for so long at Lu Zhao’s place today, drowsiness actually washed over him again, and he fell asleep lulled by the scent of oranges.
He had a dream. He dreamed about that piece of braised pork that Lu Zhao had only taken a single bite out of. It came crying to him in protest, saying that Zhou Zefeng had spent so long caramelizing the sugar, yet not only did Lu Zhao fail to praise it, he also only took half a bite, and the rest ended up straight in the trash. It cried that its brothers and sisters were too miserable!
Zhou Zefeng woke up from the dream thoroughly exasperated, thinking to himself that if he had known, he should have finished every last piece of that braised pork before leaving.
The next day, while doing his laundry, a small osmanthus flower fluttered out from his hoodie pocket.
After hesitating by the trash can for a brief moment, he placed the osmanthus flower on his desk, deciding to return it together with Lu Zhao’s clothes when he found the time.
This whole ordeal ought to be turned over like a finished page.
/
Lu Zhao watched the video recorded from that afternoon all the way through. The delete button on the camera interface was right at his fingertips, but in the end, he still didn’t press it.
He looked over at the unused props on the coffee table and packed them back into their box.
To be honest, though he hadn’t met that many people, none of them had been bad-looking, and they all also fit his aesthetic. Yet Lu Zhao had never once felt the desire to sleep with any of them. In fact, when he edged them to climax, he would usually remain dead silent from start to finish.
Zhou Zefeng was different. Not only was he the absolute top tier among them, but he had also reignited a long-dormant desire for conquest and control within Lu Zhao.
He recalled the way Zhou Zefeng looked when controlled by desire. Anyone else would have been throwing out a barrage of dirty words by then, yet he had been unusually silent, only groaning and never cursing, and in the end, he had even dared to pin him down.
Lu Zhao was cold and distant to everyone else, but with Zhou Zefeng, he had uncharacteristically exposed his true, foul temper and displayed an unprecedented amount of patience.
Lu Zhao never made the first move; plenty of people threw themselves at him anyway. If it weren’t for Zhou Zefeng looking the way he did, Lu Zhao wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by misreading the signals.
As expected, a straight man’s heart is like a needle at the bottom of the sea.
Whatever. There would always be other perfect catches; he wasn’t lacking this Zhou Zefeng anyway.
