Chapter 09

“Have you had breakfast?” Ye Ji’an seized the opportunity to change the subject. “We’re about to leave.”

“Oh right, I’ll bring you both some sandwiches on my way. And coffee… Director Ye, black Americano; Liang Xiao, vanilla latte, right?” Xiao Li, understanding the situation, turned and jogged toward the elevator.

“Thanks for your trouble!” Ye Ji’an said.

“Sorry to bother you,” Liang Xiao added.

“…Thanks for earlier,” Ye Ji’an said, turning back as he saw Xiao Li enter the elevator. “And the razor, you really know how to talk.”

“All for Senior’s reputation. But don’t worry, I haven’t come out at the company yet, so it shouldn’t have much impact.” Liang Xiao shrugged and went into the bathroom to freshen up.

Ye Ji’an looked at the closed wooden door, glanced a couple of times, and returned to his room. Reputation? Indeed, the first word that came to his mind was something similar, but upon further reflection, so what if he was misunderstood? The company had no rules against office romances. In this day and age, being with a younger same-sex partner might not be understood by everyone, but it was not shameful. At worst, it would just add some new gossip to the break room. The premise of all this was that Liang Xiao didn’t mind. As for Ye Ji’an himself, he had long passed the age of rejecting being the topic of conversation and had no intention of dating a girl. If he were labeled as gay, especially with a partner, it would conveniently help him avoid advances from colleagues of the right age and others trying to set him up.

In reality, he felt that the only things he cared about daily were how well the work was going, how the department was performing, whether he was at risk of being fired, and how to earn more bonuses to ease the pressure of his mortgage. To say he was a low-desire person would be an exaggeration; he wasn’t about to become a monk. To say he loved life would be an understatement.

Damn, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes vacant and his complexion dull, toothpaste foam still clinging to the corner of his mouth, thinking, your life really lacks ambition.

Is the house all you have? he asked himself.

But aside from that two-bedroom apartment in the satellite city with a monthly mortgage of fifty thousand, what else do you have? Oh, there’s also the cemetery plot signed by the insurance company and the automatic fifteen-year grave-sweeping service. He found himself feeling rather disheartened.

Ye Ji’an was an expert at managing his emotions. He quickly regrouped, made himself presentable, spritzed on some Chanel Bleu, hung up the borrowed pure white oversized shirt, and headed out with his bag. His colleagues were already in the car. He took the breakfast paper bag Xiao Li handed him, feeling its weight in his hand, and settled into the spacious last row of the Alphard, unconsciously glancing to his side. Liang Xiao looked back at him, said nothing more, just slipped a small object into his palm.

Opening his hand, Ye Ji’an was taken aback. It was an incredibly thin jade pendant, carved with a smiling Maitreya. The craftsmanship was rudimentary, and the jade was unremarkable, neither jadeite nor mutton fat. This thing had hung around his neck since he could remember, and Ye Ji’an had never paid much attention to it. Gradually, the cord had worn thin and even broken; he hadn’t noticed it had fallen onto someone else’s bed last night.

But it was something he didn’t want to lose, after all, this item didn’t come from the parents who raised him until he was eighteen. If there was any connection left to his life before he was adopted at three, it was only this Maitreya.

“Thanks,” Ye Ji’an said.

Seeing that he neither put the item away nor opened the breakfast paper bag, Liang Xiao frowned. “Isn’t this yours?” His voice was lower than a whisper.

Ye Ji’an, however, showed no intention of hiding it, saying in a normal tone, “It is mine; it might have broken. I’ll string a new one when I get home.”

Liang Xiao’s tension visibly eased by more than half. He picked up the broken cord from Ye Ji’an’s palm and used a lighter to singe the frayed ends. “This will do,” he said, measuring the length. “Senior, lend me your neck.”

Ye Ji’an had a pretty good idea of what he was about to do.

Liang Xiao was trying to simplify his words. “I’ll help you put it on,” he said, shaking the pendant, and added earnestly, “Then I’ll tie a knot.”

The car was unusually quiet; Ye Ji’an couldn’t tell if it had been like this all along or if it had just become so. His gaze swept over the seatbacks in front of him, and he suddenly felt very clear and calm. This feeling descended upon him suddenly, like dew condensing on a leaf, hanging on the tip, and finally falling in a big drop.

He undid a button on his shirt and loosened his tie, indeed “lending” his neck. The cord touched his skin, a small knot that was almost imperceptible, resting on the nape of his neck. Liang Xiao’s fingers trembled slightly, and Ye Ji’an felt that this was probably not just his imagination.

“This can be considered an amulet,” he smiled, tucking the Maitreya into his collar, warmed by his body, “If the hotel staff finds it while making the bed, it might not come back. You really are attentive.”

Liang Xiao, rarely shy, turned his gaze to the window as Ye Ji’an adjusted his tie.

That day’s work went quite smoothly. During dinner, Lao Chen joked that it was Director Ye’s amulet bringing good luck. Ye Ji’an laughed in response, thinking to himself that it was just that they had prepared well and coordinated effectively.

Liang Xiao, on the other hand, was coughing from the inauthentic Indian curry at the not-so-authentic Indian restaurant, chugging mint water to calm himself. While Ye Ji’an continued to engage in light banter with Lao Chen, he waved to the waiter and ordered a mild potato soup.

That night, he stood once again in front of Liang Xiao’s room, holding the Valentino. This time, they had planned well, contacting each other in advance via WeChat, so there was no need to knock. The next morning, the alarm clock finally served its purpose, and Ye Ji’an calmly returned to his room, went through his daily routine of despair in front of the mirror, and then calmly went downstairs to catch a ride.

For the next four or five days, it continued like this.

Ye Ji’an realized he had some effect on Liang Xiao’s insomnia, but it wasn’t a cure-all. Gradually, as Liang Xiao caught up on his basic sleep, he still sometimes went to bed late, even while holding him, but at least it wasn’t all night anymore. Ye Ji’an calculated that since medication could become addictive, it shouldn’t be abruptly stopped. After returning home, he would need to continue treatment. In short, he planned to combine his own efforts with sleeping pills, gradually reducing the dosage to help Liang Xiao adapt to natural sleep.

He also noticed that late at night, there would be phone calls coming in, almost every night. Liang Xiao’s phone would vibrate incessantly on the bedside, only to be roughly rejected and thrown onto the floor.

The company required employees to be reachable twenty-four hours a day and forbade changing numbers without special reasons. According to Liang Xiao, those calls came from unknown numbers that couldn’t be blocked, so there was no solution but to endure the harassment. As for who was so persistent, why he wouldn’t say a word, and how long this situation had lasted, Liang Xiao had never explained, and Ye Ji’an didn’t ask.

It was probably an ex, perhaps that first love he broke up with before graduation, he thought silently. Just like that time he had cooked, this kid had also received similar calls. Faced with Liang Xiao’s indifference, the voice on the other end had shifted from a whisper to a shout, and Ye Ji’an couldn’t discern what language it was, only feeling that the other party was quite angry.

“Don’t break your phone one of these days,” he had casually reminded him one midnight.

Liang Xiao remained indifferent, sleepily pulling him closer. “So annoying, disturbing Senior’s sleep.”

This made Ye Ji’an wonder if he would feel lonely and cold if he were to lie in bed alone in the future.

Would he be the one to suffer from insomnia then?

He hadn’t discussed with Liang Xiao what to do after returning home. The fewer days left on the business trip, the more hesitant he became. After all, they were neighbors, and winter was so cold; why not just continue like this? I’ve already figured out how to cure your insomnia. In fact, he almost said it out loud and felt quite perplexed by himself.

Not to mention, next month, he would be living locally and would definitely go home for the New Year. Would he really bring along someone like him, who had no home? That would be crazy; this was no longer just a matter of privacy. Ye Ji’an believed that this inexplicable sense of dependence had come on rapidly and strangely, causing him to think so much and leading to this psychological habit of crossing boundaries.

What was comforting was that the work was completed successfully within the planned timeframe, and the major concern before the Spring Festival had been alleviated by more than half. On the eve of his return, Ye Ji’an treated six people to drinks at a traditional Russian bar. The female colleagues naturally had the freedom to choose juice or yogurt, while Lao Chen, Ye Ji’an, and Liang Xiao were heading toward a state of not leaving until they were drunk, downing beers.

Outside the bar, there were plenty of drunken men lying down, and inside, it was no different. Burly Slavic men were raising their glasses and shouting slogans, and their table was no better off. The female colleagues showed no signs of drinking less; everyone had worked hard for a year, everyone was tired, and everyone felt wronged, wanting to indulge in this carefree foreign land.

Only Ye Ji’an changed his plans at the last minute. Seeing that Xiao Li from the General Affairs Department was unreliable, he knew that as the team leader, he had to stay sober. In a place where security was uncertain, it would be foolish for all six of them to get drunk. So, no matter how much people urged him, Ye Ji’an remained quite composed, just clinking glasses and sipping. Little did he know that this indirectly led Liang Xiao to drink even more—this kid was foolish, unable to finish his own drinks, and still had to block for him, one cup after another, “Give me!” just those two words.

“Hey, am I going to have to carry you later?” Ye Ji’an poked him quietly.

Liang Xiao shook his head, just obediently smiling.

After three rounds of drinks, Lao Chen admitted defeat and left the table. Ye Ji’an noticed he wasn’t heading to the bathroom but toward the door, thinking he was feeling stuffy and wanted to go outside for some fresh air. However, after about twenty minutes, Lao Chen still hadn’t returned. When he called, he found his phone left on the table.

Ye Ji’an’s heart sank. He feared Lao Chen might run into trouble with the drunken men outside, like accidentally stepping on someone and getting pinned down, or simply becoming one of them, which wasn’t impossible. The rumors from a few years ago about Russian drunks freezing to death on the streets made Ye Ji’an’s nerves tense. With this in mind, he woke up Xiao Li, who was dozing off at the table, and the translator, instructing them to keep an eye on their things, while he put on his coat and headed outside.

He eventually found Lao Chen in a dark alley behind the bar. Lao Chen looked as if he were dead, being held at the alley’s entrance by seven or eight people, a group of Russian youths. The leader had shoulder-length blonde hair, was very thin, and wore only a tight T-shirt and ripped jeans in the snowy weather, making him particularly conspicuous. Upon seeing Ye Ji’an, his model-like beautiful face stiffened for a moment but showed no other reaction, continuing to smoke quietly while flicking ash onto Lao Chen’s face.

“This is my friend,” Ye Ji’an stepped closer, trying to communicate with him in English. “Let him go, and we can talk about everything else.”

Someone turned to look at him, but the blonde youth remained unmoved, and the others seemed too afraid to speak.

“My phone is in my pocket; if I press it, I can call for help,” this was risky, and Ye Ji’an couldn’t be sure if it was a threat or an irritation. “Robbing a foreigner is troublesome; you should know that.”

At this, the blonde youth actually burst into laughter, turning his back to him. Ye Ji’an stared at his shaking back, feeling frustrated. Just one day before returning home, and this kind of thing happened. The four people inside were too drunk to rely on, and he would have to call the Russian police? Would he really call the police from five or six meters away from the robbers? That would be too bold.

As he was pondering what to do next, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him, hurried even in the snow. Liang Xiao not only stood firm but also ran over, standing next to Ye Ji’an without even putting on a coat, squinting for two seconds. “Roman,” he panted, speaking in English, “do you want to go to jail again?”

Upon hearing this, the blonde youth finally turned around, and Ye Ji’an saw a pair of eyes that only a beast would have, bloodshot and focused intently on Liang Xiao.