Chapter 3: Friendship Lasted Three Hours

Lin Chuji had a dream.

In the dream, he was in a damp room, dark and sunless, sealed without light.

He walked around in panic looking for an exit, but like a headless fly, all efforts were futile.

Suddenly, a crack opened somewhere, and a huge doll was thrown in.

It wasn’t good-looking—crooked and misshapen, with one eye big and one eye small, the craftsmanship very shoddy.

Yet Lin Chuji couldn’t help hugging it tight, and his frantic heartbeat steadied.

After a few seconds, the ugly doll struggled violently, trying to escape.

He pressed the big doll firmly into his arms, softening his tone this time: “Don’t leave.”

In the silent room, Xie Yan truly didn’t dare move an inch.

He had no idea what was happening.

He braced his arms with all his strength on either side of Lin Chuji, but still felt their bodies inevitably pressed together.

This feeling was strange.

The other’s breath, the erratic heartbeat, the slightly warm body heat, and the overly close proximity between two men—sticky and damp, like moss after rain.

As he was thinking these scattered thoughts, Lin Chuji hugged him even tighter, his tone slightly displeased, speaking in a half-asleep murmur: “I said don’t move.”

“Let me up,” Xie Yan said, no longer going along with it.

He grabbed Lin Chuji’s wrists while nimbly flipping over and getting up.

He quickly moved to the side.

The bed bounced heavily with a creak.

The young man sat with knees bent and back arched, running a hand through his messy hair, slowly calming his shocked mind.

“What a mess,” he muttered under his breath.

Lin Chuji reached out, grabbing nothing.

The tightened belt slipped down, revealing a faint circle of marks—just a light pink, but on those slender wrists it still made the perpetrator look overly rough.

Only then did Xie Yan notice that Lin Chuji seemed never to have opened his eyes from start to finish.

It was as if everything he did and said was purely instinctual.

Hugging so tight, and saying ‘don’t leave’—was he seeing me as some other guy?

Could Lin Chuji be gay?

Is that why he immediately and sensitively misunderstood that I had intentions toward him?

That logic made perfect damn sense.

So coming on this trip is his way of healing.

Although no one likes being treated as a substitute, he was half-asleep and couldn’t recognize faces anyway.

Xie Yan decided to forgive him this once.

His expression returned to calm.

He bent down, picked Lin Chuji up, and gently and quietly placed him back on the other bed.

Only then did he carefully remove the belt that had been the tool of the crime.

Xie Yan clicked his tongue.

Tender-skinned.

At least no broken skin.

***

When Lin Chuji woke up, he had no memory of the previous night’s sleepwalking.

He only felt that his arms were a bit sore.

He rotated his wrists a couple of times, opened his eyes, and noticed that the outside of both hands had two-finger-wide marks, reddish in color.

Probably an allergic reaction.

He had never stayed overnight anywhere other than home, so a rash was normal.

Lin Chuji didn’t think much of it.

He got up and found that his roommate was already gone, which at least saved him from the previous day’s awkwardness.

His whole body relaxed.

He washed up slowly, then took a leisurely walk to the restaurant for breakfast.

“Roommate!

Come, sit here.”

Just as he walked in, a familiar voice traveled across the entire hallway.

“Shaomai, dumplings, big spring rolls, soy milk, fried rice, salted duck eggs, pork ribs, chicken legs, noodles with peas and pork, sushi, sweet cakes, oyster omelets—pick whichever you want, anything goes.”

Xie Yan dragged out his tone, but with rhythm and cadence, reciting more smoothly than an actual breakfast vendor.

Various stifled laughs and curious looks all turned their way.

Lin Chuji felt like he was under a ten-thousand-watt spotlight, instantly becoming the center of attention.

This guy was definitely doing it on purpose.

Only now did he deeply understand the saying: Introverts are the playthings of extroverts.

“What are you standing there for?”

That bastard was still smiling at him.

Lin Chuji pretended not to know him, turned his head, and tried to escape.

But the other called him out by name: “Not enough breakfast options?

So picky, Lin Chuji.

Then I’ll have to—”

“Enough.

Very enough.”

Just answering loudly was already mortifying.

Lin Chuji hurried over and sat down, face burning red.

And then the tour leader had to chime in: “Little Lin, aren’t you and Little Xie getting along just fine?

Why were you so insistent on switching rooms?”

Lin Chuji shot him a resentful look.

Your emotional intelligence really isn’t suited for the tourism business, you know.

Xie Yan, the one who had been taken advantage of last night, looked deeply wounded: “You wanted to switch rooms?

Why?

What did I do to you?”

“No, he was mistaken,” Lin Chuji denied guiltily.

Xie Yan wore an expression of betrayed heartache.

Seeing him silent, Lin Chuji racked his brain and squeezed out: “I’m not switching.

I even brought you a little gift.

I’ll give it to you back in the room.”

When he spoke, the icy aloofness from yesterday was gone, replaced by a soft gentleness.

Xie Yan was very easy to please.

His brow instantly cleared.

“Okay.

You still haven’t answered—what do you want to eat?”

“…Same as you,” Lin Chuji said, going along with it, though his voice was a bit weak.

Xie Yan, as if he had sucked the vitality right out of Lin Chuji, wore athletic shorts and white sneakers, dressed like a high school boy, and strode to the buffet area with a refreshed spring in his step.

Lin Chuji lowered his head, turned off airplane mode, and watched messages pop up one after another on the screen.

[Mom]: Where on earth are you traveling alone?

[Mom]: You’ve learned to stay out all night, have you?

Come home today.

[Mom]: There are so many bad people out there.

If you get lost or sold or bullied, you’ll probably even count the money for them!

[Mom]: Do you hear me?!

If you don’t behave, I’m calling the police!!!

Such words had appeared in countless stages of his growing up.

Lin Chuji was used to it.

His expression remained calm.

[lark]: Mom, I’m an adult.

I should have the freedom to go out.

[lark]: I’ll be back in a week.

I have a friend with me this time.

[Mom]: What friend?

[Mom]: Since when do you have friends?

[Mom]: What’s his name?

[Mom]: Where does he live?

[Mom]: What do his parents do?

[Mom]: How do you know he’s not getting close to you because he wants something?

Lin Chuji typed: His name is Xie Yan.

Also just graduated from high school.

His parents…

He truly knew nothing about this friend.

“Did someone run off with your money?

Your face is all bitter, like you’re cosplaying as Sadako,” Xie Yan said, placing a tray in front of him.

Feeling a bit of human kindness, Lin Chuji sincerely said thank you, then succinctly answered: “My mom.”

Xie Yan rarely let a comment pass without a response.

After several seconds, he slowly sipped his soy milk and simply reminded him: “Eat.”

Lin Chuji was feeling annoyed.

He casually twirled a forkful of fried noodles into his mouth, chewed a few times, and nearly spat it out ungracefully.

So sour, so overwhelmingly salty, a thunderous disaster.

Easily the worst culinary abomination I’ve eaten in over a decade.

While replying to messages, he absentmindedly poked at the food on his plate, his already gloomy morning mood growing even more irritated.

Soon, he used the noodles to spell out two crooked characters: “Hard to eat”—a powerless, angry protest.

This was the extent of a socially anxious person’s complaint.

He would never confront the staff directly.

His phone continued vibrating.

Lin Chuji was still typing when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xie Yan raise his hand and call over a waiter.

“May I help you, sir?” the server asked politely.

Xie Yan glanced at the opposite tray.

“May I ask if the chef who made this fried noodles just had his wife stolen?”

The waiter paused.

“Sir, I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Otherwise, why is it like he fell into a vat of vinegar?

Every single noodle reeks of sour, lifeless despair,” Xie Yan said with a casual glance.

“See my roommate’s review? ‘Hard to eat.’

Coincidentally, I feel the same righteous indignation.”

Called out suddenly, Lin Chuji raised his hand to cover his plate and hide the evidence.

The waiter hadn’t expected to actually meet someone so bold.

He tried to smooth things over: “This is our newly developed Shanxi dish.

Perhaps it simply doesn’t suit your tastes, gentlemen.”

Xie Yan’s lips curled up.

“Did you ask the people of Shanxi for their opinion before making up that nonsense?”

Lin Chuji gave a tiny shake of his head, signaling him to let it go.

But this guy seemed to regret not having a loudspeaker in his hand.

Xie Yan pushed his chair back and stood up nimbly, looking ready to argue the point to the end.

“Fine.

Just the two of us might be too small a sample.

But since we paid for the tour, we should get the service we’re owed.

If it’s not too much trouble, could all the friends who haven’t finished eating please go try this fried noodles?

We’ll vote fairly and impartially.

If more than half think there’s a problem, I want the chef to make a custom breakfast for my roommate.

That’s not unreasonable, is it?”

Thanks to his call, eyes from every direction gathered once again.

Quite a few tourists began looking eager to try, and some who hadn’t dared to complain before quietly murmured that the taste was indeed off.

For a moment, the breakfast restaurant became noisy and lively.

And Xie Yan was the center of all attention.

For the first time, Lin Chuji forgot his discomfort at being in the public eye.

He looked up at him—so tall that his neck ached.

So this is what it feels like to have someone stand up for you.

Not embarrassing.

It even stirs something inside.

A very subtle feeling.

“What are you looking at me for?”

Xie Yan sat down and said lightly, “You can start thinking about your menu.

A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Lin Chuji spoke slowly: “Do you… always do this?”

Xie Yan raised an eyebrow.

“Do what?”

“Say whatever comes to mind,” Lin Chuji chose a neutral description.

For some reason, Xie Yan suddenly thought of how Lin Chuji had clung to him and rubbed against him last night.

His heart twitched.

With skin that thin, if I asked whether he’s gay, whether he’s still hung up on an ex-boyfriend, whether he mistook me for someone else in his sleep—he’d definitely lose it.

No need for that.

Xie Yan was straight, but he respected all sexual orientations.

The corners of his lips lifted.

“Not always.

Depends on the situation, depends on the person.

After all, I’m lively, not stupidly reckless.”

Lin Chuji: “For example?”

“For example, whether you’ve been in a relationship before, what your ex was like, what type you like…”

Xie Yan saw his expression grow complicated and stopped in time.

“…things like that.”

Lin Chuji narrowed his eyes.

“How come you’re so interested in those things?”

Xie Yan thought to himself, If you hadn’t climbed into my bed, would I even be thinking about this?

He sighed faintly and put the blame on himself: “We just met.

Asking these things is pretty intrusive.

But you asked me to give random examples, so I just said whatever came to mind.

What else can an eighteen-year-old guy have on his mind but love and relationships?”

Lin Chuji was shocked by his candor.

Yet somehow, he didn’t dislike it.

Neither spoke again.

They quietly drank their respective soy milks.

By then, the guinea pigs who had tried the fried noodles were complaining loudly.

The chef came out trembling to accept the judgment.

Lin Chuji looked at the stout, burly chef standing before him and negotiated: “My roommate bought some crabs, and he wants to eat them.

So if it’s not too much trouble, could you make him a big feast with them tonight?”

The chef just wanted this public humiliation to end as soon as possible and eagerly nodded.

Having been met with cold hostility last night, Xie Yan was pleasantly surprised by the sunshine today.

“You’re so considerate of my feelings.

So, we’ve officially established diplomatic relations now, haven’t we?”

Lin Chuji hummed in agreement.

Unaccustomed to such sincere expression, he felt a little uncomfortable.

His phone hadn’t stopped vibrating.

He had no more appetite, so he simply stood up, his expression cool as he walked away, leaving behind: “Take your time eating.

I’m going back to the room.”

“Wait for me,” Xie Yan said, exchanging a few words with the chef, then putting his hands in his pockets and slowly following.

Lin Chuji looked down at the notification pop-ups.

[Mom]: I looked at the itinerary for your cruise.

I’m still not comfortable with it.

[Mom]: Take a photo with your friend and send it to me.

Right now.

A photo with Xie Yan? He couldn’t possibly ask for that.

[Mom]: If you send it, I’ll believe you and won’t bother you for the next few days.

That temptation made Lin Chuji waver instantly.

He turned to look back at Xie Yan—the long-limbed young man who covered the distance in two or three strides and stood beside him.

Leaning sideways against the door, eyelids slightly lowered, staring at him intently.

His quiet expression was quite captivating, but the moment he opened his mouth, his tone turned a little smug: “Open the door.

What, stunned by my handsomeness?”

Lin Chuji lowered his stance: “…Yeah.

Handsome.”

Xie Yan choked.

Who exactly is he seeing when he looks at my face?

With such a cold personality, he actually compliments me?

For the first time in his life, being a substitute made him feel insecure.

He mumbled, “I should be… not that generic-looking.”

Lin Chuji nodded in agreement.

“Quite special.”

After all, he needed a favor.

He pressed the door handle down with an awkward finger, stepped inside, and took several deep breaths before carefully choosing his words: “When the ship docks at the island, let’s go down and take a photo together.”

He said it.

Making a request didn’t seem as hard as he’d imagined—though his heart was racing.

“A photo?

With me?”

Xie Yan paused, thinking, Yesterday he wouldn’t even let me take a solo shot of him.

After one night, he suddenly changed his mind and wants a group photo?

Lin Chuji could guess most of his thoughts from his expression and explained: “After last night, I think you’re a good person.

So… anyway, we probably won’t see each other after six days.

I thought I’d take one as a keepsake for myself.

I’ll grab your gift and leave.

It’ll be quick.”

Having barely finished a long sentence without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked into the room.

Xie Yan, inexplicably handed a “good person” card, stood rooted to the spot, his brain spinning wildly.

Hugged me in his sleep.

Now a gift.

And a photo.

And a keepsake.

Am I really just a substitute for his ex-boyfriend?

“Damn it.

Who the hell would be okay with that?”

Xie Yan grabbed his hair in frustration.

At the same moment, as Lin Chuji bent down to pick up the box by the bedside, his arm accidentally brushed against the belt he hadn’t noticed before.

The leather wrapped around his wrist—its size matched the red marks perfectly.

Lin Chuji picked it up, roughly looped it around his wrist, then put it down.

Slowly, he realized: this wasn’t an allergic reaction.

This belt in front of him—Xie Yan’s belt—was the culprit.

The evidence.

He tied me up with his belt?

So he really is into that?

You bastard.

How dare he?!

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