Chapter 8: Social Death in 0.5x Speed

He didn’t know how long he had been asleep when Xie Yan heard someone knocking on the door.

 

He groggily opened his eyes.

By the light filtering in from the corridor, he saw that the other bed was empty.

Lin Chuji, still in his pajamas, was standing at the door, slowly opening it.

 

Xie Yan snapped fully awake in an instant.

 

He wiped his face, sat up quickly, and saw Lin Chuji already walking back toward his own bed.

Behind him followed the floral shirt man, his face flushed, who was trying to reach out and grab him.

“Come… out with me…”

Probably the drug in the drink was taking effect.

The man’s breathing was rough, his steps unsteady, and his eyes revealed a primitive, uncontrollable, lecherous look—disgusting at a single glance.

 

Xie Yan called out a warning: “Watch out behind you!”

 

As he spoke, he reached out to pull Lin Chuji to a safe position.

 

But before his hand could reach him, Lin Chuji reacted faster, as if by reflex.

The moment the man’s palm touched his neck, Lin Chuji twisted, grabbed the man’s arm with force, yanked and threw him.

After a dull thud, a heavy groan echoed through the dark room.

“……”

Xie Yan withdrew his hand sheepishly.

Looks like my concern was a bit unnecessary.

 

Lin Chuji’s expression was calm, as if nothing had happened.

He slowly shuffled back to Xie Yan’s bedside, kneeling on the edge of the bed, tentatively moving closer.

When he was nearer and caught the familiar scent, he raised his arms and hooked them around Xie Yan.

 

Still in deep sleep, he tilted his head and buried it in Xie Yan’s hot neck, nuzzling.

“Lin Chuji, what are you doing, all sticky?

Don’t act drunk.

There’s a real crazy person here.”

Xie Yan warned him, yet his arms hovered loosely around him, afraid he might fall off the bed.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man on the floor move again, drawing closer.

A rough hand reached out and clumsily grabbed Lin Chuji’s pajama pants.

With a slight tug, the fabric pulled down a bit, revealing a stretch of pale thigh in the dim light.

“f*ck.”

Xie Yan grabbed the blanket and quickly wrapped it around Lin Chuji, covering the exposed skin, his face dark as thunder.

Then, his slipper stomped directly onto the man’s face, his voice cold to the extreme: “Move again, and see what happens.”

 

A muffled grunt came from beneath the slipper.

 

Lin Chuji was still trapped in a terrible sleep-talk.

He buried his head deeper, his arms winding tightly around Xie Yan’s waist.

“Scared.

Hold me.”

 

Xie Yan’s whole body went rigid.

His arms hung in the air for nearly a minute.

But in the end, he didn’t push him away.

His palm landed on Lin Chuji’s thin back, patting gently to soothe him, and he said gruffly, “Don’t act cute.”

 

Lin Chuji fell silent, staying motionless in that position, his arms tightening like seaweed.

 

Xie Yan felt Lin Chuji’s body almost completely melt into his embrace.

Through the thin pajamas, even their breathing seemed to fall into sync.

His gaze fell on the sports watch on his wrist—the numbers kept changing and rising, threatening to blow past the limit.

“Can you let go now, Lin Chuji?”

Xie Yan patted him, tilting his head back to create some distance.

“Are you listening?

You’re hugging me too tight.”

 

Lin Chuji’s skills had leveled up—he even replied appropriately: “No.”

“Couldn’t find a suitable substitute all night, so you came back to me?

And sent those ambiguous messages to my alt account…”

Xie Yan said sourly.

“You think I’m a garbage recycler?

Take me when you want, throw me away when you don’t?”

 

Lin Chuji mumbled another vague response.

 

Xie Yan: “……”

 

The floral shirt man on the floor lifted his head with difficulty and let out a dying, mocking laugh: “Simp, simp…”

“Stop barking.”

Xie Yan kicked him and said coldly, “Shut up.”

 

This kick was truly vicious.

The floral shirt man was in so much pain he nearly curled up and didn’t make another sound.

 

Lin Chuji was once again ensnared by the nightmare that had repeated many times.

He felt himself submerged in icy water, surrounded by darkness, unable to see a single ray of light.

The warmth in his arms was the only straw he could grasp.

“Cold,” he said, trembling as if actually there.

 

Only now did Xie Yan notice that his body temperature was indeed abnormal—very cold, and his breathing had become intermittent.

He reached out to touch Lin Chuji’s forehead; layers of cold sweat wet his fingers.

 

He looked sick.

 

Now Xie Yan truly couldn’t bear to push him away.

He wrapped the blanket around Lin Chuji’s back, bundling him up like a silkworm cocoon, then asked softly, “Do you need me to buy you medicine?”

 

Lin Chuji shook his head in answer.

 

Xie Yan tested his temperature with the back of his hand—no fever.

It seemed more like a physical reaction to psychological torment.

He had watched Lin Chuji so decisively take down the intruder just moments ago and thought he hadn’t taken it seriously.

Turned out he was just a timid person pretending to be strong underneath.

 

Xie Yan stopped holding it against him.

He shifted Lin Chuji onto his own bed while still hugging him, and said quietly, “If you’re embarrassed, I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.

Just sleep peacefully.”

 

Then he slowly pried Lin Chuji’s fingers off himself, one by one.

When he finally escaped that clingy embrace, he was drenched in sweat.

 

Seeing Lin Chuji’s breathing steady and his eyes closed, Xie Yan’s expression turned serious.

He looked down at the man lying on the floor.

“Zhang Ming, that’s your name, isn’t it?

Drugging someone, attempted molestation—quite a list of charges.”

He paused.

“I will call the police.

I suggest you prepare your defense.”

 

Zhang Ming was dazed for a moment, suppressing the surging impulses caused by the drug in his system, then staggered to his feet.

“So what if I drugged him?

You’ll have no evidence, just your word.

I’ll sue you for defamation.

I just went to the wrong room.

I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He figured there was only hallway surveillance at most, which wouldn’t prove anything.

 

Xie Yan couldn’t be bothered to argue with him, so he didn’t stop him.

The ship was at sea—he couldn’t run anywhere.

When they docked, someone would handle him.

 

After the door closed, Xie Yan’s gaze returned to Lin Chuji’s face.

Pale, fragile, trembling eyelashes—pitiful enough to stir sympathy.

 

A minute later, Xie Yan slowly snapped out of it.

Wait.

Why should I feel sympathy?

 

Someone like Lin Chuji—literarily skilled enough to play hard to get and reel people in, physically skilled enough to take down a pervert in one move—if anyone was worried about him, they had too much time on their hands.

The only thing was, he had such thin skin that only at times like this would he soften his words to make peace.

 

Xie Yan looked away, locked the door, and lay back down to sleep soundly.

 

***

 

When Lin Chuji woke up in the morning, he still had no memory of the night before.

He vaguely remembered having a terrible dream, which left him listless and low-spirited early in the day.

 

But Xie Yan started spouting nonsense as soon as he opened his eyes, asking out of nowhere: “Still feel cold now?”

 

Lin Chuji looked at the blazing sun outside the floor-to-ceiling window and thought he was just making conversation.

“Over thirty degrees.

Cold?

What are you talking about?”

 

He looked down and busied himself changing his shoes, preparing to go out for breakfast.

 

Xie Yan half-leaned on his pillow, chin raised, sizing him up.

 

Here we go again.

Cold and aloof during the day, fiery hot at night.

That’s his strategy—playing hard to get.

And yet last night he was so soft.

“Why are you looking at me?”

Lin Chuji touched his face self-consciously.

“I’m thinking, do you have two faces?”

Xie Yan probed.

“Who taught you?

That Sichuan opera face-changing is way too fast.”

 

Lin Chuji’s heart jumped.

 

Last night I was wearing a mask—it covered me completely.

Did I expose myself when I sent the message?

Probably not.

Otherwise, given his personality, he would have called me out on the spot.

 

In any case, he must never find out that I was the one mixing drinks last night. Otherwise, that clumsy attempt to overcome his social anxiety, and those strange messages—Xie Yan would probably mock him about them eight hundred times.

 

Lin Chuji forced himself to stay calm.

“I…

I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

 

Xie Yan: “Last night—”

Just as he started, Lin Chuji panicked and interrupted: “Nothing happened.”

 

Xie Yan narrowed his eyes, looking at him like he was a heartless lover.

 

Here I set aside our grudges to hold and comfort him, and look how ruthless he is—turns around and denies everything.

He hummed and said breezily, “I was going to say, you talked in your sleep last night.

Want me to repeat it?”

“What?”

Lin Chuji was stunned for a moment.

“Ask me nicely, and I’ll tell you,” Xie Yan said slowly.

 

Lin Chuji looked down, looping his shoelaces, and said quietly, “Then I won’t listen.”

 

Xie Yan insisted on getting a dig in anyway, repeating faithfully: “You said, ‘Scared.

Hold me.

So cold.'”

Feeling nervous now?

Who was it that clung to someone all night long?

 

Lin Chuji: “……”

 

There’s no way those disgustingly cutesy reduplicated words came out of my mouth.

 

He started to panic. “Impossible.

You must have misheard.

I don’t have any bad sleep habits.

Please don’t spread rumors.”

 

It looked like he was about to whip out a lawyer’s letter next.

 

Xie Yan stared at his dead-serious face and wanted to laugh.

 

Seeing that Xie Yan wasn’t responding, Lin Chuji grew uncertain, his guilt creeping in.

“E-even if I did occasionally say something, it wouldn’t be in that kind of tone.”

 

Xie Yan pulled up the heart rate record on the sports watch, pointed at a series of numbers, and explained: “See?

Right around this time, not only did you talk, you also hugged me super tight and wouldn’t let go, pressing down so hard I could barely breathe.

Science is evidence.

This is what you get for wanting to monitor my internal organs.”

“I hugged you…”

Lin Chuji slowly processed this information, baffled.

“Even if I did hug you once, why did your heart beat so fast?”

 

Xie Yan: “…………”

 

Right.

Why?

I’d like to know too.

 

Lin Chuji asked cautiously: “So… did I really hug you?”

 

Xie Yan was silent again.

Unable to explain, he swallowed his anger and changed his story: “No hug.”

“Then what were you thinking about in the middle of the night that made your heart beat so fast?”

“…………”

“It must have been something very perverted and unspeakable.”

“…………”

“I’ve got it.

Heart rate generally goes along with physical reactions.

You had a wet dream!”

“…………”

 

Lin Chuji, gaining momentum, launched a three-pronged attack.

For the first time, he felt increasingly confident, and he was absolutely delighted inside.

 

The e-books I bought last time—two days of cramming really worked!

I actually shut up that incessantly chatty extrovert!

This is amazing!

 

From start to finish, a complete victory.

 

Lin Chuji glanced at Xie Yan smugly.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to be shy.

It’s normal for guys to have physiological reactions.

I’m going to eat.

Bye.”

 

Then he turned and walked out with an air of noble coldness.

 

Xie Yan was so pissed off he laughed.

His gaze fell back on the camera on the bedside table.

Only then did he remember that he had set it to night-vision recording before going to sleep—originally to capture Lin Chuji’s misbehavior.

But he had gotten some unexpected footage instead.

“Caught red-handed, Lin Chuji.”

Xie Yan looked at the screen, and the corners of his lips slowly lifted.

 

***

 

The cruise ship slowly docked at an island.

Because of the previous night’s incident, the security personnel had called the police in advance.

As soon as they landed, they took Lin Chuji and Zhang Ming to the nearest police station.

“We’ve examined the glass.

There are indeed traces of drugs, but both your fingerprints are on it.

We can’t determine whether he drugged it, or you drugged it and then framed him,” the police officer said from a relatively neutral standpoint.

 

Zhang Ming had been suppressing a nasty fire all night, nearly destroying himself.

Now he had lost all interest in the pretty boy he’d been eyeing all evening.

“He drugged me.

I still have drug residue in my system.

Take me for an examination right now.”

Every word displayed the cunning of a seasoned businessman.

 

Lin Chuji said calmly, “I remember there are surveillance cameras all over the top deck.”

“You were in a blind spot.

It didn’t catch you,” the officer said regretfully.

 

Hearing that, Zhang Ming glanced at him with even more bravado.

“Drugging is a crime.

The person who harmed me must be brought to justice!”

 

Lin Chuji asked, “What if there’s a witness?”

“Even if someone saw something, in that dim masquerade party, with so many tourists wearing the same masks and costumes, how can you prove it was you and me?”

Zhang Ming argued forcefully.

 

Lin Chuji was stumped.

In that situation, Xie Yan indeed hadn’t recognized him, so how could he testify?

He had oversimplified things.

Without irrefutable evidence, this case might just fizzle out.

 

After thinking it over, he opened the alt account and sent a message to Xie Yan, explaining the whole situation, followed by a troubled emoji.

[.]: That’s how it stands.

Do you have a better idea?

[.]: It would be too frustrating to let him get away like this.

 

Xie Yan thought for a while.

Clearly, Lin Chuji didn’t want to reveal his identity from the party last night, and Xie Yan didn’t want to either—it would be too awkward after all those convoluted interactions.

So he needed to find a way to hand over that recording without exposing himself.

[…]: I have a friend…

[…]: My friend has a video of Zhang Ming, after the drug took effect, breaking into a room and attempting to assault someone.

It involves another victim.

I can blur the faces and bring it to the police.

 

Lin Chuji stared at the line, growing nervous.

Did Zhang Ming go assault someone else last night?

That animal.

[.]: Okay.

If you don’t want to expose yourself, wear the mask when you come.

[.]: I’ll wear one too.

I’ll wait for you.

 

Ten minutes later, the police watched Lin Chuji finish his disguise—he even borrowed an ill-fitting jacket from a staff member to hide his figure.

They found this young man’s behavior truly baffling.

“Why do you witnesses have to meet like you’re underground Communist Party agents?”

 

Lin Chuji explained awkwardly, “This is how socially anxious people meet.”

“So trendy,” the officer teased.

“Can we each take a photo with you for a souvenir later?”

 

Lin Chuji turned crimson from the teasing and felt that this police record was clearly just a compilation of his own embarrassing moments.

 

Before he could answer, another person in a mask walked in through the door—a non-mainstream sight.

The mask had looked charming under the lights and music at night, but in broad daylight, it just seemed funny and a bit mentally unhinged.

“Hello,” Xie Yan said, extending his hand in a proper manner.

“Hello, sorry to trouble you,” Lin Chuji stood and shook his hand, very politely.

 

The two of them, in those outfits, looked absurd—like they had just been arrested from a nightclub and were both pixelated on the news.

 

Zhang Ming frowned.

The more he looked at this guy’s physique, the more familiar it seemed.

Very much like the guy who had kicked him last night.

And then he remembered how the two of them had been clinging to each other all sticky-sweet—were they playing some kind of stranger role-play kink?

 

Xie Yan handed over the edited video.

 

They all sat down and looked up at the projected picture.

 

As soon as the playback started, Zhang Ming’s face went instantly pale.

“How do you have this video?”

 

There was no surveillance in the room.

He had even avoided every possible camera angle in the corridor while waiting for Lin Chuji to come back.

He had been very careful.

 

Xie Yan smiled slightly and boasted, “My friend gave it to me.

My friend is observant.

My friend is amazing.

My friend’s camera has night vision.

You know what night vision is, you hick?

It means even in the pitch-black night, every beastly thing you do is recorded in crystal clear detail.”

 

The officer coughed and reminded him, “Witness, no personal attacks.”

“Okay.”

Xie Yan changed his wording.

“You know what night vision is, you fool?

So you can’t get away.

Watch slowly.

Later there’s an audio recording of you admitting to drugging the drink.”

 

Zhang Ming recalled fragmented memories and slumped limply onto his chair.

 

The video was somewhat long.

It had been edited from the moment he entered the room, playing frame by frame.

 

Throughout, Lin Chuji’s expression was entirely bewildered.

Even with the pixelation, he recognized that the so-called victim was himself.

But why didn’t he remember any of this?

 

He watched himself throw Zhang Ming to the ground, then slowly climb onto Xie Yan’s bed.

 

The officer compared the footage back and forth twice and said hesitantly, “Isn’t this victim… you two seem…”

 

But Xie Yan suddenly spoke: “I forgot to cut that part out just now.

Skip it, skip it!

His confession is later!”

“Why skip it?”

The officer looked at him suspiciously.

Because of Xie Yan’s deliberate emphasis, the officer switched to a slower playback speed, and everyone turned to look.

 

In the video, Pixelation #1 slowly hugged Pixelation #2, lowered his head, and buried it deeply in the other’s chest, his arms winding around as if trying to tie a knot.

Their dialogue was slowed down and amplified, clearly audible throughout the room.

“Scared.

Hold me.”—those unbearably cutesy reduplicated words.

“Don’t act cute.”—a helpless response.

 

Then the picture froze.

The two of them just stood there hugging at 0.5x speed, not moving an inch.

 

Lin Chuji’s pupils dilated.

 

It was me.

I initiated it.

I acted cute.

I really did cling to him and not let go, just like Xie Yan said.

“You two… this victim and boyfriend are quite affectionate.

Hugged for a full three minutes,” the officer said with an awkward laugh, dragging the progress bar forward with his mouse.

 

Lin Chuji was red all over.

For the first time, he mustered the courage to object in public: “That is absolutely not me—”

The room erupted in uncontrollable laughter.

 

At that moment, he seriously considered just taking Xie Yan down with him.

 

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