Chapter 23

Ji Su returned to his room, shut the door behind him, and leaned against it — only then did he notice how fast his heart was beating.

Qiao Jin came out of the bathroom, took one look at him, and asked with concern, 'What's wrong, Susu? Did you drink too much?'

'No.' Ji Su shook his head. 'I didn't drink too much.'

His tolerance wasn't great, but it wasn't so poor that two glasses would put him under.

'But your face looks really red.' Qiao Jin pointed at his own cheek. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

Ji Su raised a hand, fingertips brushing his faintly warm cheek. 'That was from being startled by Gu Zhao.'

'Huh?' Qiao Jin's eyes went wide. 'I was only gone a moment — what did Campus Heartthrob Gu do to you now?'

Ji Su straightened up. 'He added me on WeChat.'

Qiao Jin: 'Which WeChat?'

'The main account, of course.' Ji Su pulled his phone from his pocket. 'The Mengmeng account — I haven't logged in for ages.'

'Oh thank god, you scared me!' Qiao Jin patted his chest, then added, 'Just to be safe, you should go ahead and cancel the Mengmeng account.'

Ji Su looked down at the phone screen, a thread of reluctance stirring somewhere beneath his ribs. 'We'll see. It might still come in handy.'

'You're not actually reluctant to let it go, are you?' Qiao Jin teased. 'Is there some scumbag out there still waiting for the Avenger Mengmeng to come deal with him?'

Ji Su: '…'

'But honestly, I've always heard Gu Zhao's WeChat is nearly impossible to add — harder than climbing to the heavens.' Qiao Jin grew serious. 'For him to add you on his own — what does that mean?'

Ji Su thought for a moment. 'Maybe it's so I can repay him for saving me before?'

Qiao Jin frowned. 'Repay him how?'

Ji Su let out a quiet sigh. 'Honestly, I have no idea either.'

'So Gu Zhao really is that kind of person, huh.' Qiao Jin rubbed his chin. 'Not only does he repay every grudge, he expects repayment for every kindness, too.'

'Doesn't sound wrong, does it.' Ji Su's lips curved faintly. 'Honestly, sometimes I envy that kind of personality.'

No need to read anyone's face, no need to deliberately court anyone's favor — debts of love and hatred kept clean and clear, free and unencumbered.

But a person like that must feel a certain loneliness inside, or else how could he and I love the same piece of music…

'No no no, please don't!' Qiao Jin rubbed his arms vigorously. 'The moment I imagine you turning into a dead-fish face like Gu Zhao's, I get goosebumps all over!'

Ji Su laughed. 'I was only saying it casually.'

Qiao Jin dropped his hands, his expression turning serious. 'Susu, I have to remind you — the person Gu Zhao has a grudge to settle with is you.'

Ji Su's smile dimmed a fraction. 'I know…'

Then Qiao Jin's face broke back into its usual playful grin. 'So you absolutely have to hide well!'

Ji Su walked to the table, sat down, and opened WeChat.

He looked at the familiar avatar and nickname on the interface, his mood an indescribable tangle.

Mengmeng had blocked G, yet Gu Zhao had added back his main account — perhaps this was some quiet sign from fate, giving him the chance to make amends with the other man.

With that thought, Ji Su took the initiative and sent a greeting sticker, an icebreaker of sorts.

Gu Zhao: [?]

Ji Su: '…'

Perfect. That question mark was so very Gu Zhao.

Ji Su: [Getting ready to sleep?]

Gu Zhao: [Mm.]

Ji Su stared at the cold, bare text in the chat window and felt the conversation had nowhere left to go.

Looking back now, he genuinely admired the version of himself who had pretended to be Mengmeng — how he'd kept sending messages, persistent and undiscouraged, despite Gu Zhao's silence at the start.

Even if in the end it had taken a leg photo to catch his attention.

Ji Su: [Okay, rest early~]

Only after sending the message did Ji Su realize he'd unconsciously slipped into Mengmeng's typing habit — tacking a little wave at the end of a sentence.

He recalled the message at once and retyped.

Ji Su: [Okay, good night.]

Gu Zhao: [What did you recall?]

Ji Su: [Nothing, just a typo…]

This time the other side fell silent. Ji Su waited a few minutes, got no reply, and set his phone aside to go shower.

After all, he wasn't the pretty girl in a skirt that Mengmeng had been — it was only natural Gu Zhao wouldn't reply to him with any warmth.

*

The third day of the holiday, and — unluckily — it began to rain.

But the Resort Villa had plenty of indoor activities on offer, and the group had a fine time of it.

That evening, after dinner at the Hotel, they happened to discover there was a Billiards Room tucked inside as well.

'Come on, come on — let's play pool!' He Yi Ming, having at last found a sport he was actually good at, could hardly wait to show off.

Wang Mingzhe lifted an eyebrow. 'What — you want to PK?'

He Yi Ming scoffed. 'Just you?'

'What, you looking down on a cripple?' Wang Mingzhe bristled. 'Believe me, I can KO you standing on one leg?'

Qiao Jin slid the knife in with practiced ease: 'Sorry to break it to you, but pool uses hands, not feet.'

'Fine — just you wait and see!' Wang Mingzhe flung down his declaration: 'He Yi Ming, if I don't make you cry today, my name isn't Wang!'

The group trooped into the Billiards Room in a flurry of banter, Ji Su trailing in behind them.

Perhaps because of the rain, the room was fairly crowded; He Yi Ming picked out an empty table and began racking the balls.

Ji Su leaned against the empty table nearby, watching in silence.

He Yi Ming's billiards skills were genuinely decent — he sank two of the larger balls on the break — but Wang Mingzhe hadn't been bluffing either, and the two traded shot for shot back and forth.

In the end, He Yi Ming sank the black 8-ball first, narrowly taking the game.

Wang Mingzhe threw his arms around a pillar and howled: 'I'm not having it! I didn't play well just now — one more game, one more game!'

'One more game and you'll still lose.' He Yi Ming walked over to Ji Su as he spoke, grinning. 'So? My pool's not bad, right?'

'Your billiards are good — but Wang Mingzhe isn't bad either.' Ji Su kept his answer carefully balanced, then added with affirmation, 'That last game was brilliant.'

'I'm glad to have your approval.' He Yi Ming held out the cue. 'Want to try?'

Ji Su blinked, faintly startled, then declined politely. 'I'm not very good at billiards.'

'Doesn't matter if you're not — I can teach you.' He Yi Ming pressed the invitation warmly. 'It's really simple.'

'Wait — did I hear that right?' Qiao Jin, at another table, lifted his head. 'He Yi Ming, who did you just say you were going to teach billiards?'

He Yi Ming blinked, uncomprehending. 'Teach Ji Su. Why?'

'Hahaha!' Qiao Jin let out three exaggerated laughs. 'You — teach Ji Su billiards? Don't end up the one crying after he wipes the floor with you!'

The realization hit He Yi Ming a beat late; he asked, a touch awkwardly, 'Ji Su — you're actually really good at billiards?'

'Decent enough.' Ji Su smiled. 'Don't listen to Xiao Qiao — he has a habit of exaggerating.'

Qiao Jin, watching the show from the sidelines with no intention of letting things cool down: 'Whether I'm exaggerating or not, He Yi Ming — try it yourself and find out.'

'Come on, Ji Su.' He Yi Ming's fighting spirit flared up on the instant. 'Let's have a friendly little match.'

Once things had been put that way, Ji Su could hardly refuse any longer — he took the cue and stepped up to the table.

Gu Zhao, who had been looking down at his phone all the while, finally lifted his eyelids — and his gaze landed, with unerring precision, on him.

He Yi Ming racked the balls again, and offered with a touch of gallantry: 'Ji Su, you break.'

Ji Su rubbed chalk onto the cue tip. 'You break first.'

'Alright.' He Yi Ming didn't stand on ceremony, and broke cleanly and well.

Wang Mingzhe, beside him, came back to full strength: 'Ji Su — can you get revenge for me this round?'

Ji Su lifted his lashes, a faint smile on his lips. 'I'll do my best.'

As if on cue, He Yi Ming missed his shot: 'Ji Su, your turn.'

'Alright.' Ji Su answered, set the cue, and bent low over the table.

His billiards stance was textbook-perfect — side chest pressed to the cue, forearm vertical, left leg slightly bent, right leg straight, making that leg look impossibly long and lean, the angles of his body as clean and regular as a set square.

The bent posture drew his black suit trousers taut; from Gu Zhao's angle, the flawless curve of waist and hip was laid bare in full — so perfect it looked as though he'd stepped out of a comic book.

A few onlookers drifted over, exclaiming: 'That stance — is he a pro?'

A crisp *crack* — the cue struck, and the cue ball caromed off the cushion.

'Ah…' the onlookers let out sounds of disappointment, thinking they'd misjudged.

But the next instant, the cue ball ricocheted off the rail a few times and cleanly knocked a solid ball into the pocket.

'Holy shit — beautiful!' Wang Mingzhe slammed his hand down. 'Ji Su, I knew I wasn't wrong about you — go, go, go!'

Ji Su smiled faintly and bent low once more.

For the remainder of the game, He Yi Ming could only stand by, mouth agape, watching Ji Su unhurriedly run the table.

By the time Ji Su straightened up again, a sizable crowd had gathered around them — warm applause and whistles rising together, lingering on and on.

Qiao Jin, watching from across the room, chimed in with undisguised glee: 'He Yi Ming — now you know I wasn't exaggerating, right?'

Wang Mingzhe let out a whoop, tossed his crutch aside, and lunged to throw his arms around Ji Su — only for a large hand to materialize from nowhere behind him, catch him by the back of his collar, and bring him up short.

Gu Zhao said coldly: 'Done with that foot of yours?'

Wang Mingzhe had no choice but to abandon his pounce, and shouted at the top of his lungs: 'Ji Su! From this day forward, you're my one and only male god!'

Ji Su pressed his lips into a small smile: 'Thanks.'

But he had not forgotten He Yi Ming; he walked over and said quietly: 'You let me have it.'

He had, in fact, considered deliberately missing a shot — but the thought of Gu Zhao standing right behind him watching somehow made him abandon the idea, and he threw himself into the game with single-minded focus.

Playing to one's true ability was, in the end, a form of respect for the person across the table.

He Yi Ming was now genuinely at a loss, embarrassed from head to toe: 'I'm sorry... I was overestimating myself. To think I actually thought I could teach you how to play.'

'No, you meant well,' Ji Su said gently. 'Honestly, you just slipped up back there — otherwise I wouldn't have had the chance to clear the table.'

He Yi Ming's heart was a tangle of feelings, a little deflated but more than that, moved: 'I know you're just comforting me. Ji Su, you're really a good person.'

Ji Su was about to answer when a cold voice rose behind him: 'I'm heading back.'

'Huh? Already?' Wang Mingzhe clearly hadn't had his fill yet. 'Gu-ge, you haven't even played a round!'

Gu Zhao looked at him: 'You want to play me?'

'No no no...' Wang Mingzhe waved his hands in frantic refusal. 'Zhou Yang, we should head back!'

Zhou Yang had no choice but to set down his cue and sling an arm around Qiao Jin as they walked out: 'Come on, come on, let's go back to the Villa and keep playing!'

*

Back at the Villa, He Yi Ming was still hung up on Ji Su's dazzling performance at the Billiards Room, chasing after him to ask: 'When did you start playing?'

'Learned it in middle school,' Ji Su said, thinking back. 'A neighbor's older brother was a professional snooker player — by some chance I picked it up from him.'

He had only answered half the question. In truth, his introduction to snooker had come from his mother — an internationally renowned snooker player — and he had probably inherited some measure of that talent.

'So that's how it is.' He Yi Ming rubbed his nose, his tone self-deprecating: 'No wonder I lost so badly. But losing to you isn't really a loss, haha!'

'He Yi Ming! Ji Su!' Wang Mingzhe called out to them. 'Come play cards!'

Ji Su walked over: 'Cards I really can't play.'

'I can vouch for him — Su-su really isn't being modest this time.' Qiao Jin backed him up. 'I've known him for years and I've never once seen him play cards.'

'Fine, then Ji Su you just watch from the side.' Zhou Yang's hands shuffled the deck with practiced ease. 'Anyone else who can't play?'

Gu Zhao spoke up: 'I won't play either.'

'Huh?' Zhou Yang sounded surprised. 'Gu-ge, you're so good at cards — you won't play?'

Gu Zhao settled onto the sofa: 'Too lazy to watch you chicks peck at each other.'

Ji Su: '...'

Was that something one could just come out and say?

'Ah, forget it, forget it.' Wang Mingzhe quickly signaled Zhou Yang. 'Gu-ge not playing is perfect — saves you from losing the pants off your ass.'

Gu Zhao lifted an eyebrow a fraction: 'You're betting clothes?'

'Huh?' Qiao Jin's face was a question mark. 'Please tell me you're not about to play that lose-a-card-take-off-a-piece game?'

He Yi Ming protested: 'No way? It's summer — how many layers do we even have to take off?'

'Haha, I was kidding, we're just playing around.' Wang Mingzhe's grin turned a little lecherous. 'Otherwise the police show up and say we're running an orgy, and we'd never be able to explain ourselves, haha!'

Qiao Jin: 'Ahhh, you're disgusting!'

The four of them started playing Zha Jinhua, with Ji Su and Gu Zhao sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, each looking down at his phone.

In truth, Ji Su badly wanted to go upstairs — but after thinking it over last night, he had concluded that so far Gu Zhao had no reason to link him with Mengmeng, and acting unnatural would only invite more suspicion.

So he had to stay calm. At the very least, he had to get used to being in the same space as Gu Zhao first.

After a while, Qiao Jin threw his cards down: 'What a garbage hand! I'm done!'

'Don't rush, don't rush, Xiao Qiao, don't rush.' Zhou Yang soothed him in quick succession. 'This thing depends on luck — your luck just hasn't arrived yet.'

Cheered up by the comfort, Qiao Jin stood and asked: 'What do you guys want to drink? I'll grab it from the fridge.'

Wang Mingzhe: 'Cola.'

He Yi Ming: 'Cola kills sperm.'

Wang Mingzhe: 'Mineral water then, so annoying!'

Zhou Yang picked up the thread: 'I'll have mineral water too, thanks.'

'OK OK.' Qiao Jin made a hand gesture and walked past the sofa to the fridge for the water.

He cradled three bottles of mineral water against his chest with one arm, twisted the cap off the cola with the other, and said smugly: 'I drink cola — I'm not afraid of killing sperm!'

Ji Su heard this, glanced up at him, and smiled as he shook his head.

Qiao Jin drank his cola as he walked back, preparing to cross the sofa again on his way to the card table.

Gu Zhao's eyes were lowered, his gaze on his screen — but as Qiao Jin passed in front of him, he suddenly stuck out a foot.

'Pfft—' Cola sprayed from Qiao Jin's mouth, and his body, unable to counter the momentum, pitched forward.

Ji Su, at the other end of the sofa, was startled; on reflex he stood and caught him head-on.

The result was predictable — a whole bottle of cola spilled all over himself.

'Shit!' Qiao Jin steadied himself and apologized at once. 'Sorry Su-su, I didn't mean to!'

Ji Su looked down at his cola-soaked clothes: 'It's fine, I'll just wipe it off.'

'I just—' Qiao Jin puzzledly turned back and looked at the floor several times. 'Is the Villa's tile uneven? How did I just randomly trip?'

Gu Zhao had long since drawn his foot back, expressionlessly playing with his phone, as if nothing had happened — and as if nothing concerned him in the slightest.

'I'm really fine.' Ji Su bent down, pulled a few napkins from the coffee table, and dabbed at the cola on his clothes. 'Go on and play.'

'Alright then, I'm off.' Qiao Jin took the remaining water back to the card table.

Ji Su wiped at it with napkins for a while and found that the cola had already seeped into the fabric.

'Um... I'll go upstairs and deal with this first.' He looked at Gu Zhao as he explained. 'Cola won't wipe off — I have to take it off and wash it.'

Gu Zhao didn't look up: 'Mm.'

Ji Su walked around the sofa and went upstairs quickly.

Back in his room, he unbuttoned his shirt, peeled off the equally soaked trousers, and stuffed them all into the washing machine.

Summer clothes were thin, and his skin had inevitably picked up cola stains too — sticky and tacky — so he simply stepped into the bathroom for a shower.

Halfway through washing, he remembered that it had rained the entire day, only stopping in the evening, which meant the clothes he had hung out on the Balcony the night before were certainly not dry.

Ji Su began to regret not having listened to Qiao Jin before they set out, and packing a few more changes of clothes.

But things being what they were, he could only dig out a bathrobe from the bathroom cabinet and put it on.

Ji Su privately resolved that he would absolutely not set a foot outside his room again tonight.

Just as he was thinking this, the moment he stepped out of the bathroom, he heard a knock at the door.

Ji Su walked toward the door: 'Who is it?'

'It's me.' Gu Zhao's low voice sounded from outside.

Ji Su's steps faltered; he tightened the bathrobe sash with both hands and asked warily: 'What is it?'

Gu Zhao: 'Open the door first.'

Ji Su glanced down at the bathrobe he was wearing and refused without hesitation: 'Sorry, I'm not really in a position to right now.'

Gu Zhao stood just outside the door, separated from him by nothing but a single panel of wood, and Ji Su could not help holding his breath, afraid the other man would refuse to leave.

Fortunately Gu Zhao was not the type to linger and pester — after standing there for a few seconds, he left without a word.

Ji Su exhaled in relief, turned back to the bathroom, took the freshly washed clothes out of the machine, and prepared to hang them on the Balcony.

He opened the Balcony door, turned on the Balcony light, took down a hanger, and hung up both the shirt and the dress trousers.

Once he had finished hanging them, he turned his head and, without warning, crashed into a pair of eyes dark as ink.

Ji Su's heart lurched; his body froze where he stood.

Gu Zhao's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze settling on Ji Su's face.

Just out of the shower, Ji Su's hair was still damp, droplets sliding from the tips, wetting his painterly brows and eyes, making his red lips and white teeth all the more striking.

He wore a loose white bathrobe, the collar sloppily revealing a wide expanse of snow-white skin and the flat hollows of his collarbones; the sash, on the other hand, was tied very tight, cinching out a slim waist that could not fill a hand.

Gu Zhao's gaze drifted downward — and stopped.

The bathrobe was not long enough, exposing a stretch of beautiful calves — slender, straight, white as jade — that ran on into pale, thin ankles, as though a single hand could easily close around them and turn them over and over.

Ji Su came back to himself, realized the other man was looking at his legs, and instinctively wrapped the bathrobe tighter around himself, taking a step back.

Gu Zhao set his long legs in motion, his gaze dark and heavy as he walked toward him.

Ji Su's scalp went numb; his voice almost cracked: 'Gu Zhao, wh-what do you want?'

Gu Zhao said nothing, closing in on him step by step.

Ji Su's heart was nearly leaping out of his throat; he could only keep backing up.

Under the strain of his nerves, he accidentally stepped on something, and his body instantly lost its balance, tilting backward.

In the space between one breath and the next, a burning large hand closed around his waist and pulled him steadily back.

'What are you running from?' A low, cold voice slipped into his ear; the root of Ji Su's ear went soft, and a tingling electric current shot swiftly down his spine.