Chapter 2: How to Mistake a Crab for a Kidnap Victim

But—couldn’t kick him.

Stay calm.

A prolonged argument afterward would be even more troublesome and headache-inducing.

Xie Yan tilted his head slightly, still waiting for an answer.

Lin Chuji squeezed two words out from between his lips: “No add.”

“Huh?”

Xie Yan was stunned for a good while before he caught on.

This time his tone carried a hint of helplessness.

“I wouldn’t go through such an insane detour just to add you on WeChat.

Can you please believe me for once?”

Lin Chuji gave a small, perfunctory nod.

Believed you.

Believe you have ill intentions.

Believe your mouth is full of tricks.

Believe not a single word you’ve said is true.

“…Your eyes are giving you away,” Xie Yan said, looking genuinely wounded.

They’d probably run into each other again in the room later, and Lin Chuji didn’t want things to get too tense for now.

Besides, he wasn’t articulate in face-to-face confrontations and wouldn’t have the upper hand anyway.

So he ended the topic: “I’m going to eat.

Goodbye.”

With that, he kept his cool, light expression, didn’t look back, and walked away.

Xie Yan stared at his retreating figure and couldn’t help but laugh.

With the model gone and the sunset gone, there was no reason to stay.

He turned around, ordered a simple meal at the rooftop bar, browsed the shop for a bit, and then went back to the room.

But even by ten o’clock at night, his mysterious roommate still showed no sign of returning.

The ship had already left the harbor, surrounded on all sides by sea.

Worried something might have happened, Xie Yan asked the tour leader for the person’s name and phone number, then dialed.

Seeing an unfamiliar number, Lin Chuji—who was still browsing the shop—didn’t even look at it and hung up directly.

The other party called again.

He hung up again.

By the fifth call, the vibrating phone felt like a ticking time bomb.

He was forced to answer: “Who’s speaking?”

The voice sounded familiar somehow.

Xie Yan thought about it but couldn’t place it, so he got straight to the point and introduced himself first: “Hello, this is Xie Yan, your roommate in room 404.”

Lin Chuji had already etched that name into his DNA as a trigger.

He muttered under his breath, “This ghost won’t leave me alone.”

Just as he was about to hang up, he heard the other add, “It’s late and you haven’t come back to the room, so I took the liberty of asking the tour leader for your contact info.

Are you okay?

Being out alone late at night—even for a guy—isn’t necessarily safe.”

The tone was very sincere, as if he genuinely cared about a stranger’s safety.

Lin Chuji’s finger hovered over the end call button.

He thought to himself, Maybe I’ve misunderstood him.

Maybe he’s not as bad as I imagine.

The call was still connected.

When he spoke again, his voice unconsciously softened: “I’m fine.

I’ll be back soon.”

“Good.

By the way, your name is really nice.

‘First clear skies after an early rain’—just like today’s weather,” Xie Yan complimented.

Lin Chuji didn’t have much experience dealing with people and couldn’t think of how to reply, so he just hummed in acknowledgment.

“Then go ahead with what you’re doing.

I’ll wait for you.

There’s a surprise,” Xie Yan said before hanging up.

That sentence instantly yanked Lin Chuji’s vigilance back.

Just a second ago I actually thought this guy wasn’t so bad.

Now he’s rushing me back.

Has he already set up the scene to tie me up?

His eyes landed on a small hammer on the shelf in front of him.

Lin Chuji reached out, grabbed it, and swiftly placed it on the counter.

Whether he was overthinking it or not, buying something for self-defense couldn’t hurt.

“What are you buying the hammer for?”

Security was strict on the ship, so the cashier asked for routine registration.

Being questioned like that, Lin Chuji immediately regretted picking the thing up.

But at this point, he could only force himself to look calm on the surface, even as his ears suddenly flushed with an undeniable red.

To make matters worse, several other curious stares were now looking his way.

It felt like needles on his back.

Extremely uncomfortable.

“What are you buying the hammer for?”

The cashier thought he hadn’t heard clearly and repeated the question.

Lin Chuji had no choice but to answer.

He barely managed to fabricate three words: “Cracking walnuts.”

Nearby, someone couldn’t help but laugh.

“Which room?”

“404.”

The cashier glanced at the form and said with confusion, “Your roommate also bought a hammer.

Do you two have that many walnuts to crack?”

“……”

This damned, useless synchronicity.

Lin Chuji ground his teeth and added a vicious jab: “Because my roommate needs brain food.”

The bystanders laughed even louder.

Lin Chuji didn’t understand what was so funny.

Feeling utterly uncomfortable, he quickly paid, grabbed the little hammer, and hurried to the fourth floor by elevator.

Standing outside the door, knowing he’d have to face that social terrorist again, he gripped the handle and took deep breaths.

What if he knocks me out as soon as I go in?

But I need to record evidence so that switching rooms will be justified.

If we actually fight, it’ll be self-defense.

Lin Chuji lowered his eyes, opened the video recording function on his phone, aimed it straight ahead, and suddenly pressed down on the handle to pull the door open.

The moment the door opened, he came face to face with an enlarged version of that face.

The other person was also holding something—in one hand, a small bundle of rope; in the other, the exact same iron hammer.

Just as I guessed.

He really was about to make a move.

Lin Chuji, prepared mentally, reacted faster than the other.

In the instant their eyes met, amid that bewildered gaze, he swung toward the direction of Xie Yan’s hand.

He was indeed a half-beat slow, but the hammer whistled past—Xie Yan dodged cleanly.

Xie Yan looked up in disbelief.

“Are you sick?”

Lin Chuji said nothing, raised his arm, and launched a second attack.

“You’re not done, are you?”

Xie Yan had studied martial arts.

He reached out and seized Lin Chuji’s wrist, applied pressure with his palm, flipped and locked, and in one motion pinned the other’s arm behind his back against the wall.

With two clanging sounds, both little hammers dropped to the floor, making a loud racket.

The room fell silent except for their heavy breathing.

They were forced very close together.

Lin Chuji twisted his wrist with a frown, but couldn’t break free.

Damn bastard.

What did he eat as a kid to grow this strong?

“Let go,” he said, breathing rapidly, unhappy at being at a disadvantage.

“Don’t move,” Xie Yan said, veins bulging on his arms as he exerted force, rarely losing his temper as well.

Lin Chuji lifted his chin slightly, his chest heaving, and warned, “I’m recording this.

If you dare do anything to me, I’ll call the police immediately.”

“I dare do anything?

Friend, the thing you’re holding isn’t a hammer—it’s Zhu Bajie’s rake,” Xie Yan said, sarcastically accusing him of turning the blame around.

Lin Chuji scoffed.

“Rope.

Iron hammer.

Need I say more?”

The air grew stagnant again.

Their eyes clashed in a tense, confrontational atmosphere.

Lin Chuji was half a head shorter than Xie Yan.

If he wasn’t careful, his lips would brush against the other’s chin.

He glanced once, then turned away indignantly, but being pressed against the other’s high body heat made him extremely uncomfortable.

Xie Yan tightened his grip on Lin Chuji’s restless hands, took a few deep, uneven breaths, and finally managed to force his tone back to calm.

“I was going to the kitchen to deal with the crabs.

Do you have paranoid delusions?”

“What crabs?”

Lin Chuji was still resisting.

“I bought a basket of fresh crabs from someone before boarding.

You hadn’t come back, so I was going to stun them and tie them up first.

What did you think I was going to do?”

Xie Yan ground his teeth.

“Lin Chuji, let me emphasize this again: I’m straight.

I have no improper thoughts about you.”

Lin Chuji stopped moving.

He watched as Xie Yan pulled out his phone with one hand and opened a link in a chat.

Following his gaze, the screen clearly displayed a guide to steaming and stir-frying crabs—the timestamp was from that afternoon.

He replayed the earlier conversation in his mind.

Exciting and stimulating forced bondage play, perfect for late-night indulgence.

I just don’t know if he likes being tied up like that.

Sailing the sea feels amazing… do whatever you want.

We’ll record a video tonight and send it to you.

“……”

A long, deafening silence.

Not my fault.

Who wouldn’t overthink that?

How was anyone supposed to know such an ambiguous chat was about tying up crabs?

…Seriously.

“Got it now?”

Xie Yan released him expressionlessly.

Lin Chuji thought he should still feel justified, but seeing the look of grievance on the other’s face, he didn’t know where to begin explaining.

He only felt awkward, and all his social anxieties came rushing back.

“…I overthought things.

It was a misunderstanding.

I’m sorry,” he said, voice trembling.

Xie Yan looked down, noticed a scratch on the back of his hand—Lin Chuji’s doing, at some point—and turned to go rinse it in the bathroom.

Lin Chuji’s wariness toward him vanished completely.

He followed, fumbled to close the door behind him.

He had barely interacted with anyone in school and didn’t know how to handle someone he’d angered.

After stewing for a few minutes, he finally managed, “I’ll help you with the crabs in a bit.”

“You can cook?”

“A minor, unremarkable skill.”

“Lost my appetite.

We’ll do it tomorrow,” Xie Yan said, shaking the water off his hands, then looked at Lin Chuji through the mirror.

“Move.

I’m taking a shower.”

Lin Chuji was never good with words, but he thought, I already gave him an out.

Why won’t he take it?

This guy seemed easygoing on the surface, but underneath he held grudges.

Seeing that Lin Chuji hadn’t moved, Xie Yan turned to face him.

Being stared at so directly made Lin Chuji even more nervous, his breathing quickening.

He wanted to explain more, but a jumble of messy thoughts rushed out all at once.

The heat of embarrassment exploded from his core, spreading rapidly.

His toes curled, his head spun.

“You… you…”

He even stammered, humiliatingly.

Xie Yan’s sharp eyes noticed that his fair earlobes had turned bright red, and his expression softened.

The untouchable, aloof beauty actually gets shy.

Teasing him a little can’t hurt, right?

“What, you want to stand here and watch me bathe?

Even though we’re both guys, sorry, but I’m quite traditional and easily embarrassed.

I can’t accept that.

Please understand,” Xie Yan said, putting on a perfectly serious, apologetic tone.

Lin Chuji’s entire face flushed crimson.

Under the other’s amused gaze, he grabbed the doorknob indignantly.

With a loud slam, after a five-second mental lag, the socially phobic person finally roared a utterly harmless retort:

“Who would want to watch you!”

***

Xie Yan came back out in a few minutes, bringing a cloud of steam with him.

Lin Chuji, too embarrassed, grabbed his pajamas and hurried inside.

As they passed each other, he caught that faint citrus scent from Xie Yan’s body, intensified by its presence in the humid air.

His steps unconsciously faltered.

But he really didn’t want to exchange another word.

So annoying.

Xie Yan tried to make peace: “Hey, about what happened earlier, let’s—”

Before he could finish, Lin Chuji dashed into the bathroom and shut the door, pretending to be deaf and dumb as he fled the scene.

“…let bygones be bygones, alright?”

Xie Yan finished helplessly.

But clearly, the other party had blocked and blacklisted your friend request.

Xie Yan clicked his tongue.

“My mouth.

Deserved it.”

He got into bed sideways, scrolling through his phone, patiently waiting for Lin Chuji to come out.

But half an hour passed, the bathroom water stopped, and Lin Chuji still hadn’t appeared.

Xie Yan’s parents had both been in the police force.

He had grown up roughhousing with a bunch of tough boys and had never seen a guy with thinner skin than paper.

It was quite novel.

But at this point, he was out of ideas.

He lazily got up, turned off all the lights in the room, slipped under the covers, and pretended to sleep.

Sure enough, within two minutes, he heard very light footsteps behind him, some rustling, and the sound of blankets being lifted.

The best move at this point would be to shut up, stay silent, and let the matter naturally pass by tomorrow.

But Xie Yan couldn’t wait until the next day.

He couldn’t help typing out a warm invitation on his phone and setting it to scroll.

He waved the screen toward the other bed.

Colorful, scrolling text read: “Foes are destined to meet.

Let’s drink to Erguotou tomorrow night.”

He turned around—only to see that the other bed’s blanket was pulled up to cover the face, completely buried, the head tucked in as well, having long since avoided any possible eye contact.

Xie Yan: “……”

All that enthusiasm and energy, nowhere to use it.

He regretfully turned off the screen, lay on his side, and groggily fell asleep himself.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he felt a warm body press silently against him.

A pair of slender arms climbed onto his shoulders.

Cool palms explored everywhere.

Breathing landed on his neck, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, a little ticklish.

Xie Yan: ???

All sleepiness vanished.

Instantly awake.

His first reaction was that a thief had entered.

The grappling skills ingrained in his bones were pure reflex.

He instinctively grabbed those troublesome wrists, pulled them up, and without thinking, took the belt from the headboard and tied them, securing them above the other’s head.

The sturdy knees of the young man parted, firmly pressing against the restless thighs beneath him, a forceful restraint executed in one smooth motion.

The movements were clean.

His breathing didn’t falter in the slightest.

Xie Yan narrowed his eyes and finally, by the moonlight, recognized the person.

“Lin Chuji?

What are you doing?”

His tensed arms relaxed their strength, but he was still confused.

The other’s lips moved, but he couldn’t make out what was being said.

Xie Yan leaned closer.

“Planning to restore diplomatic relations with me?”

Lin Chuji: “?#%&…”

Xie Yan asked again: “Getting this close—or are you scared from a nightmare?”

Lin Chuji: “！#?@…”

Xie Yan frowned.

“Mumbling.

Can’t understand you.

Got it—you’re testing whether I lied to you.

I really have no feelings for you.

No matter how I explain, you won’t believe me, will you?”

Apparently annoyed by the noise, Lin Chuji furrowed his brow slightly and struggled hard to the side.

“What are you actually—” Xie Yan was drawn by the sudden movement, and saw that Lin Chuji’s pajamas had ridden up from the motion, blatantly revealing skin that had been hidden beneath the fabric.

Lower down, pale inner thighs trembled slightly against the friction of darker knees.

And at that moment, he was tied up by Xie Yan, his clothes disheveled, his lips red, his waist arched inward.

In the pale moonlight, he was so beautiful that it made one’s breathing unconsciously soften.

Xie Yan fell silent.

His Adam’s apple slowly bobbed.

His mouth went dry.

Only when the other struggled again did he realize he had crossed a line.

He fumbled to release Lin Chuji’s wrists.

But Lin Chuji’s arms, still clinging tightly, hooked around his neck and yanked him close abruptly.

Xie Yan lost his balance and collided with him.

He let out a muffled grunt, feeling the other’s breath flick against his body like a snake’s tongue.

“Don’t move,” Lin Chuji commanded close to his ear.