Putting on an Act

After finishing the hot noodles, Chen Ju curled up on the sofa and slept for less than two hours before his alarm woke him.

To avoid waking Li Qing, he felt his way around in the dark, changed clothes as quietly as he could, closed the door, and stepped into the bitterly cold night.

Fortunately, Li Qing lived close to the bar, only a little over ten minutes away on foot. Otherwise, with no buses running this late, Chen Ju wouldn’t have known how to get there.

“I should buy a secondhand bicycle,” Chen Ju muttered. He breathed into his palms and rubbed them together, but the warmth was quickly scattered by the night wind.

He finished cleaning a little after six in the morning. He had to report to the mall’s security office in three hours. Afraid of disturbing Li Qing, he didn’t return to their place. Instead, he found a sheltered corner near the mall, leaned against the wall, and slept for a while.

The dream was like a mountain shrouded in thick mist. Everything was so hazy and unreal.

Suddenly, a jumble of loud, chaotic sounds rang out. Someone was crying—a woman, her shrill cries piercing his eardrums.

“Please, I’m begging you. Don’t hurt my child...”

“Little Orange, run! Go!”

“...Little Orange, I’m sorry. Mommy will take you away from here. Once we leave, we won’t have to suffer anymore...”

“Mommy... Mommy... No...” Chen Ju’s brows furrowed in pain as he murmured, finally waking from the dream.

He opened his eyes in a daze and stared blankly around him. Half his mind was in the real world, while the other half was still trapped in the dream. The tear-streaked face of a woman was imprinted on his retinas, as though the dream had spilled into reality.

Chen Ju reached out, and the woman’s phantom image popped like a burst balloon and disappeared.

He stared at the gray, gloomy sky for a long while before lowering his eyes. He bundled himself up in his padded jacket and buried the lower half of his face in its collar.

“It’s so cold.”

Chen Ju stood up and slowly made his way into the mall.

The security job was easy. They took turns patrolling the mall once every hour; the rest of the time, they sat in the monitoring room and kept an eye on things outside.

One thing that made Chen Ju very happy was that lunch was included. Each boxed meal came with two vegetable dishes and one meat dish, and he could get more rice. Chen Ju ate two heaping bowls in one sitting, until his stomach was round and full.

Uncle Wu, who had a square face and a big belly, joked from nearby, “I thought you were a little chick. Who knew you could eat more than the rest of us!”

“Young people are still growing. You’ve got to eat plenty!” Uncle Liu, a thin-faced man, said with a genial smile.

Compared with the cold atmosphere at the bar, Chen Ju preferred the cheerful uncles in the security office. So even after working a night shift, he didn’t feel tired when he came in for this day shift. Instead, his heart felt warm.

A black car was parked by the roadside outside the hotel, its window rolled down. A handsome man leaned back in the driver’s seat, his long fingers holding a cigarette outside the window. He flicked off the ash, then lifted the cigarette to his lips. A moment later, a plume of white smoke curled up from his mouth.

The man’s gaze rested on the rearview mirror. In its clean, gleaming surface, he saw a man in a white padded jacket running toward him.

He took one last drag, stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray, and lifted his eyes to look outside.

Chen Ju braced his hands on his knees and panted heavily. Clouds of white breath spilled from his mouth, fogging the lenses perched on his nose before the cold quickly cleared them.

When he saw Jiang Zhou, Chen Ju hurriedly took off his glasses and tucked them into the lens cloth in his pocket.

“I’m sorry I’m late. The bus was, was delayed,” Chen Ju said apologetically.

Jiang Zhou sat in the car, half his face lost in the gloom, his expression impossible to make out. Chen Ju’s heart leapt into his throat. Jiang Zhou had always been strict about punctuality. He had to be furious that Chen Ju was more than half an hour late.

Chen Ju gritted his teeth and held his palm out through the window, as if marching to his doom. “Why don’t you hit me?”

Jiang Zhou’s expression finally changed. He turned his head, his gaze moving from Chen Ju’s face to his palm.

Just as Chen Ju thought Jiang Zhou was really going to hit him, Jiang Zhou looked away and said coolly, “After all these years, you’re still so childish.”

Chen Ju’s cheeks burned. He silently pulled his hand back. If Jiang Zhou didn’t want to hit him, fine, but there was no need to say that. It was only because Jiang Zhou was angry with him.

If Chen Ju was so childish, why had Jiang Zhou used to smack his palm? And why had it hurt so much every time?

Following Jiang Zhou into the hotel, Chen Ju couldn’t help looking around. It was his first time in such an upscale hotel. Uniformed attendants stood at the entrance. When they saw Jiang Zhou, they bowed respectfully and opened the enormous doors, each twice the height of a person.

As the doors opened, a luxurious, extravagant scene came into view. Men and women in formalwear held champagne flutes, standing in small groups as they chatted with smiles on their faces.

At the sound of the doors opening, everyone looked over. Chen Ju was still dazed when someone took his hand and pulled him to the side.

“Link arms with me.” Jiang Zhou’s low voice brought Chen Ju back to his senses. He hurriedly linked his arm with Jiang Zhou’s, lowered his head, and walked beside him.

“Eldest Young Master Jiang, long time no see.”

Many people came over, warmly striking up conversations with Jiang Zhou. He greeted them with a smile, no longer showing the coldness he’d displayed outside.

“Is this a friend of Eldest Young Master Jiang’s? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.” A man with triangular eyes steered the conversation toward Chen Ju, eyeing him up and down.

All at once, everyone’s gazes fell on Chen Ju. He grew nervous, unsure what expression to wear. He straightened his back and clutched Jiang Zhou’s sleeve tightly.

“Mm.” Jiang Zhou rested his other hand on the back of Chen Ju’s hand and gave it a gentle pat. Looking down, a tender smile flickered in his eyes. “A very good friend.”

Seeing Jiang Zhou’s expression and actions, everyone more or less guessed what he meant by “friend.” They knew better than to say it aloud. Having a same-sex lover was nothing unusual in their social circle; they were all used to it.

It was just that Jiang Zhou had brought a same-sex lover to such a formal occasion, leaving everyone wondering what he was up to.

The strange looks directed at him felt like one heavy stone after another pressing down on his chest. Chen Ju felt as though he were about to suffocate. That familiar choking sensation had returned, like a cold, venomous snake slithering up from deep inside him, hissing as it wound around his body, tightening and tightening.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Jiang Zhou slipped an arm around Chen Ju’s waist and leaned close to his ear to ask softly.

Chen Ju snapped out of it. He was playing along with Jiang Zhou now. He had to pull himself together and couldn’t mess things up again.

“I’m fine.” Chen Ju lifted his head and forced a smile. His fair face was deathly pale, not a trace of color in it. He clenched his hand, digging his nails into his palm. The sharp pain helped clear his head a little.

Jiang Zhou stared at Chen Ju for a few seconds, then curved his lips into a smile and reached out to ruffle Chen Ju’s hair. He said to the people in front of them, “Sorry, he’s not feeling well. I’ll take him to rest for a bit. Please, carry on.”