If (5/9)
In the pitch-dark living room, the window had been left open. A cool breeze swept through, carrying with it the heavy air of an approaching storm, sending a chill down Su Zesui’s spine.
He could clearly feel that Gu Yilan was holding back his emotions, but he couldn’t figure out why his brother was so angry.
There was no curfew at home. He hadn’t come back at dawn, nor had he been out causing trouble. Could it be… was his brother mad at him for lying?
Thinking he had figured it out, Su Zesui lowered his head and held out his pale palm to Gu Yilan, his voice soft and aggrieved: “Brother… you can hit me.”
At those words, Gu Yilan’s brows furrowed. He didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned forward slightly and pressed the button on the remote to turn on the overhead light. A blinding white glow instantly flooded the living room.
Su Zesui squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the glare, still not used to the sudden brightness.
But Gu Yilan, who had been in the dark for so long, didn’t so much as blink. Against the harsh light, he simply looked up at Su Zesui, deep in thought.
Only when Su Zesui finally adjusted and could open his eyes again did Gu Yilan speak. “How old are you?”
Su Zesui froze for a moment, then stammered softly, “I… I’m seventeen.”
He remembered it so clearly because, thanks to the anti-addiction system, many of his game accounts were still tied to Gu Yilan’s ID card. Every time he had to go through facial recognition, he needed to call his brother over to help.
“You’re still underage.” Gu Yilan fixed his gaze on him. “Where did you go?”
“I… I…” Su Zesui’s eyes flickered instinctively toward the bulging little box in his pocket.
He had gone out to prepare a gift for Mr. Gu. But in this tense atmosphere, if he told the truth now, the sense of surprise would be completely ruined—
worse, it might even turn into collateral damage in the middle of their conflict.
Wanting to preserve the impact of the gift he had painstakingly worked on for hours, Su Zesui pressed his soft lips together and chose silence.
He decided to endure his brother’s anger on his own. Only that way could he separate the surprise of presenting a Dragon Boat Festival gift from the current situation.
Of course, the boy’s small gestures didn’t escape Gu Yilan’s eyes.
He noticed Su Zesui’s hesitation—and the obvious bulge of the box in his pocket.
If his memory was correct, when Shi Fangbin had ruffled the boy’s hair in the courtyard just now, he had also been holding a box. Judging by the size, shape, and sharp edges, it looked exactly the same as the one in Su Zesui’s pocket.
Gu Yilan rubbed his fingertip, and before he could speak again, the boy reached out his hands toward him and said, “Brother… maybe you should just hit me.”
Gu Yilan asked in return, “Why would I hit you?”
Su Zesui froze for a moment at the question, his cheeks heating up and the tips of his ears reddening. He quietly confessed, “I lied to you… I didn’t actually have a meeting tonight.”
Gu Yilan was silent for a moment, then said, “…It’s not a big deal. It’s not worth me hitting you over.”
Puzzled, Su Zesui asked, “Then… why are you so upset, Brother?”
Gu Yilan frowned.
It was because Su Zesui had lied to go out with Shi Fangbin, because Shi Fangbin’s car was parked where Gu Yilan usually dropped Su Zesui off, and because Shi Fangbin had patted Su Zesui on the head—and the boy had obediently accepted it without resistance…
In the end, it all had to do with Shi Fangbin.
So Gu Yilan said, “Shi Fangbin isn’t a good person. Stay away from him from now on.”
Su Zesui lined up his fingers and asked hesitantly, “But… didn’t you say before that he’s okay? That it’s fine to hang out with him?”
Gu Yilan recalled the subtext of what he had been thinking at the time. Tapping lightly on the armrest of the sofa, he said coldly, “He has a reckless personality, five ex-boyfriends, and a tendency to flirt around—he’s not someone suitable for a long-term relationship. Besides, he’s still in college, fully reliant on his family financially. His monthly allowance is only a few thousand; he can’t give you a comfortable life. And, frankly, he’s quite average-looking. Even if you don’t consider passing on genes to the next generation, he’s just not pleasant to look at.”
Su Zesui was dumbfounded. Even he rarely heard Gu Yilan speak in such a long, harshly mocking tone.
“Th-then I’ll try to play with him less from now on,” Su Zesui mumbled in reluctant agreement. “It’s just… our volunteer activities haven’t started yet, so sometimes we still have to meet…”
The boy’s voice gradually grew softer until it was barely audible. Gu Yilan cut him off decisively: “What did he give you? Show me.”
Su Zesui froze, instinctively reaching into his pocket. Noticing the man’s gaze fixed on where he was touching, he hurriedly explained, “This… wasn’t given by him.”
Gu Yilan didn’t respond. He just gestured with his chin toward the coffee table, signaling for him to put the item there.
Su Ze hesitated for a moment, then braced himself and stammered, “Even though he didn’t give it to me, you… you still can’t look at it right now. Well, it’s just not convenient to look at it right now, brother…”
Gu Yilan exhaled slowly, nodded, and stood up. “You’ve grown up and have your own mind now. Brother really shouldn’t be controlling you so much. But I’ll give you one last warning—he’s not a good man.”
Hearing that, Su Zesui’s mind fixated on the words ‘shouldn’t be controlling you’, and he panicked. He quickly shook his head. “N-no, that’s not it.”
Ever since that snowy night when he sincerely made a wish in front of the Christmas tree, his relationship with Mr. Gu had been inseparably close. Now, with the sudden declaration that he wouldn’t look after him anymore, it felt as if an invisible bond had been abruptly cut.
Even though he knew Mr. Gu couldn’t look after him forever, deep down Su Zesui was still that insecure little boy, terrified of change.
“All right, go back to your room,” Gu Yilan said, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation, and started walking toward the bedroom.
Su Zesui followed his steps, turning slowly, and only then noticed the dining room behind him. A table was set with a beautifully prepared meal—full of dishes he loved—but they had long since grown cold.
“Brother… have you… eaten?” Su Zesui raised his voice slightly and lifted his arm toward the man’s back, as if trying to hold onto him from afar.
Gu Yilan didn’t slow his pace and didn’t look back, leaving behind a cold remark: “I’ve already eaten. Have the butler clean up the dining room.”
“Oh…” Su Zesui slowly lowered his arm, his disappointed reply dissolving softly into the air.
——But… the dishes on the table looked completely untouched.
Back in his bedroom, Gu Yilan naturally sat down at his desk, picked up one of the many documents piled there, and skimmed through it at lightning speed, as if perfectly calm—as though nothing had just happened.
Yet a few minutes later, he rubbed his temples, flipped the file back to the first page, and started over from the beginning.
Unfortunately, before he could focus, a hollow, burning ache rose again from his stomach, pulling his attention away.
Gu Yilan simply set the file aside, closed his dark eyes, steadied his breathing, and after a few seconds picked up his phone. He sent a WeChat message to the butler, who had just gone out.
[Gu Yilan: On your way back, stop by a dessert shop and get some cake.]
The reply came quickly.
[Butler AAA: Certainly. What flavor would you like?]
[Gu Yilan: Just get it for him. He likes sweet things. Also, make sure it’s filling.]
[AAA Butler: Is this for Young Master Su? I recall he already had dinner at the school cafeteria, so he probably isn’t very hungry. How about I get him some light desserts instead?]
[Gu Yilan: With that cafeteria food, how much do you think he could’ve actually eaten?]
[Butler AAA: Alright, alright. I’ll finish up here and head over right away. I should be back in about an hour and a half.]
Gu Yilan’s gaze lingered on that last message for a long while. Just as he was about to turn off the screen, two more cautious messages popped up—
[Butler AAA: Young Master Gu, did something happen that upset you?]
[Butler AAA: If there’s anything I can do to ease your worries, please tell me. I’ll do my best.]
Gu Yilan’s brows drew together. His thumb unconsciously rubbed against the phone’s power button.
Both Su Zesui and the butler had asked him the same thing—but… what was there to be upset about?
Shi Fangbin wasn’t much of a man, true, but he was hardly a real threat to Su Zesui. Su Zesui was already grown up; since he had the ability to judge right from wrong, he should also have the right to decide whether to fall in love.
If anything, Gu Yilan’s interference would only hinder the boy’s growth.
But why, when he saw the two of them interacting so intimately, did his heart suddenly skip a beat, his molars itch, and an oddly childish sense wash over him—as if something that once belonged to him had been snatched away?
Gu Yilan thought he really ought to see a psychologist.
Because of the overly complicated environment he grew up in, he carried some deep-rooted issues—an urge to control and possess that went far beyond what was normal. It didn’t affect his daily life and hadn’t flared up in a long time, but tonight it seemed much harder to keep in check.
Rising to his feet, Gu Yilan sent the butler a short reply: [No need.] Then he started down the hall toward the boy’s room.
It was a little past ten at night. The darkness outside wrapped the world like a soft blanket; the sky stretched deep and quiet, speckled with stars. From far away came the occasional cry of night birds, a sound that only made the silence feel more solitary.
The corridor connecting their two bedrooms was unlit. A thin strip of light spilled from the crack beneath the boy’s door, outlining a faint, narrow line at the threshold. If nothing was out of the ordinary, Su Zesui should be inside.
Yet when Gu Yilan knocked and patiently waited two whole minutes, there was no response.
Worried the boy might do something foolish, Gu Yilan hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open.
Su Zesui’s room, like the boy himself, was fresh and tidy. A light-blue quilt was neatly folded on the bed, while a laptop and a row of books sat on the desk and shelf.
On the innermost shelf were letters from years ago, written back and forth between them. The sight made Gu Yilan almost hallucinate the image of that soft, obedient boy who used to call him “Mr. Gu.” His gaze involuntarily darkened.
At the same time, the light in the bathroom was on, and the faint sound of running water trickled out.
Gu Yilan had intended to wait until the boy finished his shower before coming in, but as he turned to leave, his eyes caught on a small box sitting on the rack by the door.
A familiar box.
He had once glimpsed it on the surveillance feed of a handmade jewelry shop, and later seen it even more clearly in Shi Fangbin’s hands.
Su Zesui and Shi Fangbin had gone to a trendy couple’s spot, the kind of place popular for lovers’ activities. Clearly, the two of them wouldn’t have made separate pieces only to walk away hours later with their own trinkets in hand.
And yet—whether because the boy was too shy, or because Shi Fangbin had crafted something that couldn’t bear to be shown—Su Zesui hadn’t let him see it, not even for a second.
What made things worse was that when Shi Fangbin was weaving the silver bracelet, he had done so with his back to the camera, at such a tricky angle that the piece he made remained shrouded in mystery.
For a fleeting moment, a devilish thought rose up in Gu Yilan’s mind, urging his hand toward that unguarded little box.
But in the very next second, he snapped back to his senses. Lowering his hand, lips pressed into a thin line, he strode out of the boy’s room.
——He was sick. Perhaps he really should just wash up and go to bed early.
. . . . .
Bathing always helped Su Zesui clear his mind.
Whenever he ran into a difficult problem with his studies, he would first take a shower. By the time he returned to his desk, inspiration would flow again, and his pen would move across the page as if guided by the gods.
But this time, even after scrubbing and rinsing over and over, lathering the body wash again and again, his mind remained foggy—never once did that spark of clarity return.
——Was Mr. Gu… angry at him for not trusting him?
After all, Mr. Gu had waited so long for his reply, yet he hadn’t answered, made up excuses, and even insisted on keeping the Dragon Boat Festival gift a secret. To anyone else, it really would seem quite excessive.
Not to mention, this was the same Mr. Gu who had always treated him kindly, who had once saved him from fire and water. Surely he must be hurt… disappointed…
Lost in anxious thoughts, Su Zesui dawdled his way through his routine. Still wrapped in a bath towel, he absentmindedly picked up his phone as he stepped out, glancing at the time.
——Not good. He had actually spent nearly half an hour in the shower. The dishes he’d reheated for Mr. Gu were about to go cold again!
Su Zesui didn’t have time to think about anything else. He hurriedly pulled on a shirt and underwear, grabbed the small box from the stand by the door, and dashed toward the kitchen.
After all, his pajama top was long enough to cover down to his thighs, and the summer night was a bit stuffy, so it was fine not to wear pajama pants or socks.
Once he had set the reheated dishes neatly back on the dining table, Su Zesui patted the small box tucked inside his shirt pocket to make sure it was still there, then quickly hurried off again—this time toward Gu Yilan’s bedroom.
He knocked on the door. No response.
“Brother,” Su Zesui’s voice carried a timid edge, “it’s me.”
Still, there was no answer.
He didn’t know if the other simply wasn’t in the room, or if he just didn’t want to acknowledge him.
Without his phone, Su Zesui couldn’t message Mr. Gu. After a few seconds of anxious hesitation, he slowly pushed the door open a crack and peeked his head in. “Brother?”
The room was empty. Only the bathroom light was on inside—it seemed he must be taking a shower.
Su Zesui let out a sudden sigh of relief and lightly patted his chest to calm himself. Taking small steps, he entered the man’s room and, familiar with the routine, sat on the edge of the bed. He waited for the man to finish his shower, nervously mulling over what he would say later.
Mr. Gu’s bed wasn’t exactly soft, but it carried a distinctly masculine scent that somehow brought him a quiet sense of comfort and ease.
There was only one chair in the bedroom. Every time he came over late at night with questions, Mr. Gu would have him sit at the bedside while patiently explaining economic models and theories to him.
Lowering his eyes with a hint of sadness, Su Zesui let his legs dangle and sway lightly. He wasn’t good with words. But if it meant going back to the way things used to be with Mr. Gu, he would be willing to quit the volunteer work altogether…
So, when Gu Yilan came out after his shower, dressed in pajamas, the first thing he saw was the boy sitting not far away—looking both uneasy and sorrowful.
The boy wasn’t wearing pajama pants, and his bare calves swung back and forth in small arcs. Fresh from his own shower, his skin looked pale and delicate, with a soft glow of warmth, like tender tofu that would yield at the slightest touch and bear the imprint of a finger.
At that moment, Su Zesui lifted his damp, glistening eyes toward him. In those clear, luminous pupils reflected only Gu Yilan’s figure—nothing else. The sight stirred an inexplicable pang of tenderness.
“What’s wrong?” Gu Yilan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he tossed the towel into the basket. Stepping forward, he tilted the boy’s chin between his fingers and said, “Open up.”
Su Zesui suddenly opened his mouth, but faint teeth marks still lingered on his soft lower lip.
Gu Yilan noticed the small box Su Zesui was holding. He put his hands down and let out an almost imperceptible sigh. “What do you need me for?”
“Brother… are you still mad?” Su Zesui lowered his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “I heated up some food for you… do you want to eat?”
Being asked the same question over and over for an entire evening, Gu Yilan tugged at the corner of his lips with a hint of helplessness. He answered honestly, “It’s fine. A little annoyed… but I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t… don’t be annoyed.” Su Zesui held out the small box with both hands. Seeing the confusion in Gu Yilan’s eyes, he hurriedly added, “It’s for you. I made it myself.”
Gu Yilan noticeably paused, his thin lips parting slightly. After a moment, he finally muttered, “…You made this for me?”
“Y-yes.” Su Zesui nodded vigorously. “I made it tonight. I originally wanted to give it to you as a Dragon Boat Festival gift, but… but I’ll give you something else for the festival.”
The boy opened the small box.
It was a silver bracelet, primarily woven in a twisted braid pattern, with delicate engraved ripples. Two clusters of silver intersected, and in the center hung a heart-shaped pendant outlined by fine silver threads, adorned with a tiny heart-shaped lock bead. It was indeed the bracelet the boy had made, as seen in the surveillance footage.
At the time, just looking at it had made his chest tighten; now, it was hard to look away.
Gu Yilan’s pupils contracted, a faint, almost imperceptible emotion flickering in his eyes. His fingertips curved slightly as he lifted his hand to accept the small box the boy was offering.
“Brother… please don’t be annoyed with me, okay?” Su Zesui stood up and hugged the man in front of him, pouring out all his grievances. “And… don’t ever stop caring about me, wuwuwu.”
Gu Yilan’s fingers clenched the little gift box, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m not annoyed with you. I won’t stop caring about you… it’s my fault.”
Su Zesui shook his head like a rattle, hugging him even tighter, and whispered in Gu Yilan’s ear, “It’s not your fault, Brother. You’re the most important person to me. I never want to be apart from you…”
Having just finished his shower, his body was naturally more sensitive. And as he rested his chin against Gu Yilan’s neck to speak, he hugged him tightly, occasionally shifting slightly. His slender, bare legs brushed against Gu Yilan unconsciously.
With every intimate word whispered, warm breath swept across his ear, stirring an undeniable, tingling sensation…
Suddenly, Gu Yilan’s eyes darkened, and his breathing became erratic like never before.
He raised his arms, picked up the boy who was still mumbling in his arms, and immediately turned to walk away, only leaving behind a quick sentence: “I’m a little hungry. I’m going to eat first.”
Su Zesui slipped and landed on the bed, staring at the man’s swiftly retreating figure, his lips parted slightly, feeling somewhat bewildered.
Author’s Note:
Su Zesui: “Brother, why is there a hard thing poking me?”
Gu Yilan: “..It’s the Dragon Boat Festival gift you gave me.”
Su Zesui: “I–Is that so?”
sighh idk a 22yr old and a 17yr old……hm
lmao the authors note 😭