Chapter 13

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Seeing Chen Gong’s dumbstruck expression, Zheng Yi gave an inward sigh of relief.

Chen Gong silently lit his cigarette. Zheng Yi watched him, clearly understanding his awkward feelings under that false bravado. “Chen Gong—” Zheng Yi suddenly called his name with some sadism, wanting to force eye contact between them. “Do you find me disgusting? It’s bad enough being liked by a guy, but the fact that it’s me, your least favourite person— does that make you especially uncomfortable?”

Chen Gong smoked without speaking, meeting Zheng Yi’s eyes for a second before looking away.

“But you’re handsome, and competent, and you’re really…full-on!” Zheng Yi sighed. “—so I fell for you. Telling you about it today was my mistake, I couldn’t even act properly… Please don’t be burdened by this, you don’t have to give me an answer, just pretend it never happened. I’ll take it as having been rejected, and I won’t harass you anymore. Since I’ve come clean now, please don’t fight with me anymore… I can take a lot of punishment and even I’m tired. Aren’t you?”

Chen Gong continued to smoke without saying anything.

Zheng Yi had no intention of bearing responsibility for his random excuse.

Saying “I like you” wouldn’t kill him. At worst, Chen Gong would call him disgusting, and he would probably stop asking why he had lied and stayed in his room.

Zheng Yi walked past Chen Gong to the wardrobe and grabbed his suit, haphazardly packing it into his suitcase.

Chen Gong leaned against the table, smoking— Zheng Yi had no clue what he was thinking.

He didn’t need to know, either. Such a bolt out of the blue needed some time just to be digested.

Done packing, Zheng Yi carried his suitcase out of 1205. As he turned, Chen Gong chucked something at him.

Zheng Yi turned around. It was the half-smoked pack of cheap cigarettes.

As he picked it up, Chen Gong said indifferently: “They’re passable smokes.” Zheng Yi nodded. Holding the tattered cigarette box, he went back next door.

Only when he was back in his room did Zheng Yi feel a delayed fear response, as if he had just escaped the jaws of a wild beast.

–He’d definitely tucked the room key and his ID into the pocket hole, so how did they fall out of his jacket?

Zheng Yi threw open his suitcase and picked up the jacket. This time, it was the stitches in the garment’s lower hem that had come undone.

Zheng Yi was completely floored. Had a hundred-year-old brand really fallen to this state? Heatedly, Zheng Yi threw the jacket on the floor with force and stamped on it several times.

But his fury persisted, so he picked it up and threw it again a few more times.

The jacket felt no pain. It lay on the ground, patiently enduring–a single thread even waved at him for some time before it fell to the ground.

So enraged by the jacket, Zheng Yi could barely catch his breath. He waved his fist in the air before sending it into the wall.

–other than his hand hurting, nothing happened.

Zheng Yi lay on the bed, pulling his socks and trousers off with an expression of despair as he reflected upon himself. Qiu Mang was right. He was overly dramatic and didn’t respect people’s boundaries, developing a purposeless curiosity and sympathy for others all on his own.

At the end of the day, Zheng Yi knew he was a fucking idiot.

That wasn’t the only thing Qiu Mang was right about. Zheng Yi thought it over carefully and found that he really was just trying to get Chen Gong’s attention. Since he was surrounded by admirers all his life, unexpectedly meeting someone who was so uninterested in him aroused his dissatisfaction. He really was like a male lead in one of her trash fics.

When he “confessed” to Chen Gong earlier, Zheng Yi raised three things he saw in Chen Gong: one, handsomeness; two, competence; and three, being “full-on”. He told the truth.

“Handsome”. To be honest, Chen Gong wasn’t the cookie-cutter hottie— his monolid, dead-fish eyes filled his every glance with animosity; the corners of his lips were always pursed, like a misanthropic scumbag. But these couldn’t stop his tall and rather sexy aquiline nose from carrying his face. And on top of that, the clean, sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones—to a photographer like Zheng Yi, his face was a work of art, made for camera lighting.

As for “competent”: before joining Halo, Zheng Yi looked up his interviewer Chen Gong, and found his personal website on social media. He didn’t say much on it, but his photography skills and aesthetic senses were unique.

And “full-on”—this was Northern slang—Zheng Yi didn’t really care whether Chen Gong understood… it was something like “arousing”. Chen Gong always riled him. He noticed Chen Gong’s every word and every move. Like a butterfly in the Amazon basin causing a tornado in Texas with a flap of its wing. Just by working someone overtime, Chen Gong had Zheng Yi storming the department.

Zheng Yi did have good feelings for Chen Gong, but not that sort of feeling—Zheng Yi’s type was more the pretty-fluffy-white-lamb-on-green-meadows sort, not a rough old bull on a wild moor.

Zheng Yi didn’t understand why Chen Gong was so unwilling to acknowledge him. But now he was quite relaxed—in his current situation, where he had only intended to pretend but ended up wildly miscalculating—it was appropriate for Chen Gong not to acknowledge him.

As the thought crossed his mind, Zheng Yi couldn’t help but snort. He was so ridiculous; even when he hated someone, he couldn’t get his mind off that person. He did a rough calculation of how much thought he had spent on this guy, and realised that Qiu Mang misunderstanding that he liked her xuezhang was perfectly logical.

A “ding” came from his phone. He picked it up. “[Zongheng Airways] Reminder: Online check-in has opened for your return flight for tomorrow.”

After picking a random aisle seat, Zheng Yi put down his phone and went to sleep.

–

At 6:05pm, Zheng Yi was awakened by a knock at the door.

Groggy and unbalanced, he got down and opened a crack in the door. It was Chen Gong.

Zheng Yi started.

Chen Gong stood at the doorway and glanced over Zheng Yi, then said blandly, “Are we still getting hotpot? It’s six.”

Zheng Yi was actually pleasantly surprised by this. He’d assumed that their hotpot plan was cancelled.

To be precise, he thought his entire relationship with Chen Gong was cancelled. He was even thinking of whether to talk to Lao Wang about changing departments.

Chen Gong was really giving him face… It seemed that he and Chen Gong had reached a tacit understanding—no more fighting between them from now on.

After two seconds of stunned silence, Zheng Yi finally nodded quickly. “Yeah, hold on a minute, I’ll put on my trousers.”

They walked to the elevators, one behind the other, not quite sure what to say. The two men waited for their ride in silence. When the elevator arrived, it was empty, so they each fished out their phones to fiddle with; leaving the elevator, Chen Gong walked in front and Zheng Yi followed behind. Glancing at Chen Gong’s back, Zheng Yi thought little of the awkwardness between them, and took a few steps forward. “Where are we going?”

“Are you afraid of less-reputable diners?” Chen Gong asked. [1]

[1] Lit. housefly-small-eateries — Sichuan restaurants of questionable hygiene.

“No,” said Zheng Yi.

“There’s one I used to go to a lot, it’s really cheap—I’m not sure if it’s still open though. Wanna check it out?” said Chen Gong.

Zheng Yi nodded. “Sure.”

Once again, the two had nothing more to say. One behind the other, they walked through the brightly lit streets.

Just when Zheng Yi was beginning to feel tired of walking, they finally reached their destination: a hotpot restaurant in a renovated private garage, fitting about three or four tables.

The shopkeeper recognised Chen Gong and greeted him. “You’re back?”

“Yeah, on a work trip.”

“What kind of hotpot, the usual?”

Chen Gong laughed. “Yuanyang hotpot. My friend can’t handle spice.” [2]

[2] 鸳鸯锅 – A type of hotpot divided into two, where one side is spicy and one side is plain.

The word “friend” gave Zheng Yi another shock. He felt inexplicably ashamed, as if he had somehow taken advantage of Chen Gong.

The lady glanced at Zheng Yi. “Righto.” [3]

[3] Note that most of the conversation is in Chuanpu a.k.a. Sichuanese Mandarin.

They sat at the table, again in silence.

The air was thick with spice and oil and awkwardness everywhere.

Zheng Yi didn’t really know where to put his hands. He felt at his pocket and decided to pull out the half-pack of cigarettes that Chen Gong had given him, but halfway through digging it out, he pushed it back in. He rose and said to Chen Gong, “There’s a convenience store next door, I’m gonna buy some smokes, do you want anything?”

Chen Gong looked up. “Buy me a 10-yuan pack of Yunyans.” [4]

[4] Nicknamed 紫云 – (lit. purple cloud) a cheap type of cigarette popular in China.

The shopkeeper served them their hotpot. “It’s 11 now. Didn’t you know the price went up?”

Chen Gong smiled at the lady, saying, “You’re just as gossipy as always.”

The shopkeeper poured hot water into the pot and looked at Zheng Yi as she asked Chen Gong, “This your xiaodi? So young and handsome.” [5]

[5] lit. Younger brother, but also just a younger male acquaintance in general – the context implies that Zheng Yi is his subordinate.

Chen Gong’s smile grew a little colder. Before he spoke, Zheng Yi nodded and said to the lady, “Yeah, I work under him.”

She smiled frankly, and replied in slightly broken Mandarin, “Do your best, you’ll have a good future working with Xiao Chen!”

Zheng Yi nodded continuously, imitating her Sichuanese “righto, righto” and sending her into a fit of laughter.

While the shopkeeper laughed, Chen Gong was looking at his phone coldly.

When Zheng Yi came back from the convenience store, he held two packs of Yunyans, and pushed a pack across the table.

Chen Gong watched as he sipped his beer. “You smoke Yunyans too? Won’t you suffer not smoking your big cigars?”

Zheng Yi snorted. “Stop mocking me, alright. I’m okay with any flavour, as long as it’s full-on.”

Chen Gong shut up and didn’t reply. The beer must’ve gone to his head—his face was a little red.

–

The hotpot was different from the kind they had in Beijing—Chengdu’s yuanyang hotpot was filled with spicy broth, with a small fist-sized circle in the centre filled with clear broth and two floating stalks of spring onion.

The ingredients were a whole messy myriad of things, intestines, maw… Zheng Yi, a pure Northerner, watched Chen Gong order a whole load of things he didn’t really dare to eat, and didn’t really dare to tell him.

Zheng Yi felt as if he’d been robbed, but then his stomach rumbled right on cue.

—He was hungry. Zheng Yi thrust his cigarettes into his back pocket, then hardened his heart, picked something up from the pot, and put it in his bowl. Looking about, he called for the shopkeeper. “Auntie, do you have majiang?” [6]

[6] An abbreviated way of saying oil.

“Mahjong?” The lady paused in the middle of her work and thought for a while, then pointed. “Over there, there’s a coffee shop, they play mahjong there.”

Zheng Yi listened to this, completely mystified. Chen Gong snorted.

Zheng Yi turned to look at Chen Gong, but Chen Gong was looking past him straight at the shopkeeper, explaining, “He wants sesame oil, not mahjong.”

The lady laughed.

Only then did Zheng Yi understand, realising that he was the butt of the joke.

Chen Gong didn’t sit up very straight, unlike his usual posture in the office. Since the table was a bit low, Chen Gong spread his legs and bent his back, sweating all over as he ate. His lips still held vestiges of a smile. This was all novel to Zheng Yi.

Novel, and after a while, a little sad.

Why would anyone want to look expressionless all the time? It could only be because life was difficult and it was hard to smile.

Imitating Chen Gong, Zheng Yi added garlic, onion and sesame oil to his bowl.

He dipped his food into the oil and sent it straight into his mouth. The spice killed any unpleasant fishy odour, filling his mouth with an interesting flavour.

Suddenly, Chen Gong spoke. “What about your lil’ sheep—Yang… Yi?”

Zheng Yi and Yang Yi’s ambiguous relationship was not high profile, but nor was it hidden, so most HALO employees knew about them. He had just “confessed” to Chen Gong, so he couldn’t exactly say “We were just flirting this afternoon”… Zheng Yi chewed on the food in his mouth and hid from Chen Gong’s gaze, saying in a muddle, “Something unexpected happened…”

Chen Gong appeared taken aback when he heard this, and said, “Never mind.”

Zheng Yi thought, I don’t mind, of course I don’t, why would I? Reaching his chopsticks into the pot for more, he asked in a small voice, “You’re not mad at me anymore, are you?”

Chen Gong didn’t look at Zheng Yi. He replied, “I can empathise… I’ve liked someone before too—I was young and immature, I kept getting in their way and sticking to them. I probably scared them silly.”

Hearing that Chen Gong too had a passionate youth, Zheng Yi felt excited. “Wanna talk about it?”

“There isn’t much to say…” Chen Gong chuckled. “…We did go out after that, for about seven years, but in the end we broke up.”

“Why’d you break up?” Despite having just “confessed”, this punk didn’t feel the slightest hint of jealousy, looking at Chen Gong curiously.

Chen Gong looked down at his bowl. “Apparently I was a “phoenix man”, not really worth liking…”

Zheng Yi shook his head. “She’s a bad judge of character then. What does “phoenix man” mean?”

“Not sure. Something about how I flew up to become a phoenix but I’m still a wild drake deep down.”

“What the hell— if you’re a duck, I’ll eat your whole commission!” Now that he’d relaxed, he began speaking in his usual way, earning a glare from Chen Gong. Zheng Yi grew fearful again, quickly returning to the topic. “She’s a bad judge of character. How good could she have been?”

Chen Gong said, “They were very good.”

So things weren’t over yet? …Zheng Yi nodded and smiled, saying, “Fine, you besotted man—still speaking for her!”

Chen Gong took another sip of beer and didn’t respond.

Zheng Yi kept asking. “Was she beautiful?”

“Quite good-looking…”

“In the same line of work?”

Chen Gong thought about it. Modelling and photography were sort of the same line. “Mhm.”

Zheng Yi pouted. “Hey, you’ve broken up now, stop thinking about her! You’ve already caught a handsome rich young master, so you brag about me to her later on!”

Chen Gong gave Zheng Yi a look. “If I brag about you, what about your reputation?”

Zheng Yi raised a brow and shrugged. “Whatever. I’ve always been pretty loose, why would I care what they say?”

You don’t care, you don’t care about anything— that’s why you’re so easily tricked, you simpleton. Chen Gong glanced at Zheng Yi, who was in the middle of a fight with a piece of duck blood, looking like an idiot.

Seeing his idiocy reminded him of what Yang Yi said. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “You should be more careful. Don’t trust people so easily. When you borrowed my bathroom, weren’t you afraid I might put a camera or something in there to take secret videos of you and blackmail you, since you’re so rich?”

Having said this, Chen Gong noticed a subtle change in Zheng Yi’s expression.

Zheng Yi couldn’t help but frown, his heart rocked with sudden waves: Chen Gong was saying this because he had met a similar situation. If a person hadn’t experienced being secretly recorded, why would they think of cautioning against so unusual a situation…

Zheng Yi’s heart ached, and he bit into a chilli pepper, setting fire to his throat and tearing his eyes. After a long coughing fit, he grabbed Chen Gong’s beer at random and gulped it down before regaining his composure.

Unable to give the slightest hint that he knew about Chen Gong being secretly recorded, Zheng Yi decided he could only take on the role of the hypothetical victim. “If I really did get into that situation, what do you think I should do?”

—Zheng Yi wanted to know if Chen Gong had now recovered from being violated in that way, whether he still carried this psychological scar.

After he asked this, Zheng Yi noticed a subtle change in Chen Gong’s expression.

Chen Gong furrowed his brow and clenched his teeth, a sudden storm rising in his heart: he hadn’t managed to stop Zheng Yi from being seduced into the hotel room by Yang Yi… Now, Zheng Yi told him in a muddle that “something unexpected happened” between himself and Yang Yi. This meant that Yang Yi had quite possibly begun blackmailing Zheng Yi already.

Chen Gong’s sense of guilt instantly stirred again. He felt his nostrils ache and didn’t dare to meet the eyes of the idiot opposite him. Pulling out a cigarette, Chen Gong lowered his head and responded after a long pause, “I think you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s the fault of the person who recorded you. Don’t be afraid.”

When Chen Gong finished speaking, Zheng Yi mhm-ed in reply.

Zheng Yi felt a sense of redemption. Even though Chen Gong had been the victim of that secret recording… if he could say something like this now, it meant that he had walked out from under its shadow. Zheng Yi relaxed slightly, but in the next moment he was gripped by a different pain: with so much difficulty, through so many hurdles, this man was able to raise himself out of it all… what a full-on guy.

Chen Gong also mhm-ed.

Chen Gong hoped that what he said was of some consolation. He may look frivolous, but in reality, he was suffering through such awful dark things… Rather than sympathy, he felt guilty. He could have prevented all this. Even though he did try later on, in many ways he was still an uncaring bystander… But Chen Gong felt helpless as well. He did want to prevent it, but if he had given Zheng Yi that warning, would Zheng Yi had believed him, their relationship being as fraught as it was?

Once again, they both had nothing to say.

But this time, neither of them felt awkward. Each was thinking, deep down: let’s stop here—after this conversation, no more mentioning his… wound.

–

T/N: You are both disasters.

T/N 2: Chen Gong doesn’t reveal his ex’s gender, but since “he” and “she” sound the same but are written differently in Chinese, we can tell that Zheng Yi assumes it’s a she. Chen Gong doesn’t know this.

Credits:

Author – Liang Azha (Weibo|Twitter)

Raws – Nandemonaiya

Translation – Nandemonaiya

Proofreading – Nandemonaiya, Terukutie, Zhiming

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