Chapter 1 - Stomachache

Chapter 1 – Stomachache

“In the rainy season of the south, a lady in pink was walking. The boy in the forest picked up a stone, throwing it at her, targeting her perfectly round belly…”

Zhou Hao again woke up in startlement from his strange dream. Looking at his phone, it was past two in the night. In a distance far from him, a man was lying there.

The man was lying with his back facing him, his upper body bare. All he could was the defined lines of his back, and that head of shaggy black hair.

A few hours ago, they were still on top of each other, desperately trying to bury themselves in each other. Now, it was as though a ravine was between them, desperately wishing they were eight hundred metres apart.

“Jiang Yuqian, Jiang Yuqian…” Zhou Hao leaned his body over, shouting out at him many times. His hands and mouth attacked, lighting a flame within the man’s body.

That man mumbled a few words, flipping over and pressing Zhou Hao down.

“You want to do it?” The man asked groggily.

“I can’t sleep, so I’m looking for something to do.”

About half an hour later, both of them had found satisfaction from each other’s body. The man pushed Zhou Hao away, walked into the bathroom, and next came the sound of running water.

In the dark and cramped space, Zhou Hao groped for his box of cigarettes by the bed. Pulling a stick out, he placed it in his mouth and lit it.

This was his habit, a cigarette after doing it. The smoke from the cigarette could numb his brain, helping him to temporarily forget many things, as well as the sexual acts just now.

Not long after, the man was done with his shower. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he walked out, his hair still dripping wet. The drops of water landed on his shoulders, as well as the floor. Switching on the lights, the darkness vanished.

The messily rumpled and dirty bed sheets, Zhou Hao’s nude body, as well as that pool of whitish fluid between Zhou Hao’s thighs, they all immediately entered the man’s sight.

“Go and wash up in the bathroom.” The man knitted his brows.

Zhou Hao smiled, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. Looking up with a cock of his brow, “Was it good just now?”

The man ignored him, and towelled his hair.

“Jiang Yuqian,” Zhou Hao contemplated for a long while, before solemnly calling his name.

The man turned back and looked at him in incomprehension.

“Tomorrow’s my birthday, come over at night.”

A faint ridicule flashed in that man’s eyes, as though reproaching him for his transgression. “Tomorrow’s Monday.”

The invisible contract lay between them — from Monday to Friday, the man would never come here. He would only come on weekends.

This was a man who was way too good looking. No happiness nor anger could be seen in his unfathomable dark eyes, and no desire could be detected in them as well. The adamantine icy expression always remained fixed on that face of his, and there was never a change in it.

A long pause, and Zhou Hao did not speak a word. He shut himself in a cage, slowly licking at his wounds. Only after he was nearly done did he smile self-mockingly, speaking indifferently, “Oh, it’s Monday? I almost forgot. Fine, I’ll spend it alone then.”

There was always a type of person who acted so arrogant and aloof, to the point where people would scorn him, but he would never easily remove that mask. He was clearly so fragile within, so lonely, and desperately yearned for someone to accompany him on his birthday, but he would never acknowledge it.

What a coincidence, Zhou Hao was this sort of person.

Having dried his hair, Jiang Yuqian walked over to the bed. He saw the half stick of cigarette in the ashtray, and his expression was imposing. “In the future, don’t smoke in the room. It stinks.”

Zhou Hao blinked, speaking ruffianly, “Afraid of secondhand smoke?”

Jiang Yuqian was apathetic. “I’ll go sleep in the living room.”

Zhou Hao seemed to be suddenly provoked, rushing up and blocking the door. “You’re not allowed to go! You’re not allowed to go anywhere!”

“What are you getting crazy about this time?!”

From his cleft, cum trickled down to his thighs and calves, like countless translucent snakes wrapping around his legs. Zhou Hao physically softened, he shifted slowly to the side, giving way.

Jiang Yuqian too saw what was left of his “harvest”, and his face softened as well. “Go take a shower.”

With such consideration, Zhou Hao’s hopes rekindled a little. He hugged the man in front of him. “I’ll go shower now, don’t go to the living room.”

On this rare occasion, Zhou Hao bent his pride and gave in.

Scuffling about, Zhou Hao first took a shower, then removed the bedsheets and dumped them in the washing machine before replacing them with a new set from his cupboard.

Zhou Hao was extremely busy, not daring to waste even a second. He was afraid that Jiang Yuqian would go back on his word, and sleep in the living room.

In his heart, he had already brought his birthday forward. He would take it as today, today he was celebrating his birthday.

The two people lay on the clean sheets. Zhou Hao stared at the dark ceiling. Not finding any meaning in it, he again started staring at Jiang Yuqian’s back.

“Jiang Yuqian.” He called out softly.

There was no reaction from the man whose back faced him, only giving him an impassive silhouette that could barely be distinguished in the dark.

“Jiang Yuqian.” He repeated, this time a little louder.

That man still gave no response.

Zhou Hao suddenly reached out and gripped Jiang Yuqian’s hair, forcibly turning him around.

“Are you crazy?!”

Zhou Hao blinked, lying on the bed motionlessly. His eyes were glued eagerly to Jiang Yuqian’s furious face.

He was not going to do anything, all he wanted was for the man to say to him —

“Haohao, happy birthday.”