If (6/9)
As soon as he stepped into the living room, the aroma of steaming hot food hit him—rich with the scents of oil, garlic, and sauce, mingling with the soft fragrance of rice. It was a smell that belonged uniquely to “home.”
But Gu Yilan didn’t glance sideways; he walked steadily, heading straight for the bathroom.
At the sink, he cupped some water and splashed his face several times with cold water, leaning on the counter to catch his breath. After a long moment, he finally lifted his gaze to the mirror, meeting the reflection of his disordered self.
Clear droplets of water slid down the smooth contours of his face, dripping from his sharp jawline and soaking the front of his shirt, leaving a dampness that was hard to ignore.
Yet at this moment, Gu Yilan paid no attention to it—there were sensations far more pressing.
Grinding his back teeth, he kept telling himself over and over in his mind:
——He’s your younger brother.
Suddenly, two soft knocks sounded on the bathroom door, and a worried voice called out from outside: “Brother, are you okay?”
At the sound, Gu Yilan turned his head slightly, exhaled softly, and muttered a muffled, “Mm.”
Su Zesui detected the restraint in his voice and worried aloud, “Are you feeling unwell? What should we do… Is it serious? Should we go to the hospital? I… I can call Uncle Driver right now…”
After the boy rambled on for a while, Gu Yilan finally managed to calm down a little and, lowering his voice, said, “It’s nothing… just some stomach pain.”
Su Ze asked, “Stomach pain? Is it… because you’re hungry? I’ll go heat up the food again. Brother, you should come out and eat something quickly.”
Only when he heard the boy’s hurried footsteps retreating did Gu Yilan unclench his fingers and drop his gaze to his own body.
——It was just a physiological reaction, nothing to do with love or desire.
Theoretically, when a male experiences combined visual and tactile stimulation, the nervous system sends signals to the spinal cord, hypothalamus, and relevant sexual centers, which then trigger a physiological response via the autonomic nervous system.
In other words, an erection is simply an involuntary bodily reaction that doesn’t require conscious control and has little to do with personal feelings.
The boy had just finished his shower, and the scent of his body wash resembled pheromones that could trigger such a reaction in a man. On top of that, his soft, still-warm body brushing against him made it perfectly natural for Gu Yilan to respond physically.
Thinking this, Gu Yilan focused on quickly dealing with the discomfort. He turned on the tap and watched as the fluid between his long fingers was washed away, mixing with the clear water and disappearing without a trace.
Compared to his own disoriented state, the small box lying by the sink appeared exceptionally pristine. It had once been at the center of a whirlwind of contradictions, but now it belonged solely to him.
After drying the water droplets from his hands, Gu Yilan reopened the little box and lowered his gaze, examining it carefully.
The silver bracelet inside wasn’t flawless—the silver threads forming the heart-shaped pendant were slightly crooked, and the engraved waves were occasionally asymmetrical. It was clearly handcrafted by someone not fully skilled in the craft.
Yet it was precisely this clumsy imperfection that erased the rigidity and uniformity of machine-made items, giving it a vivid sense of authenticity. It was something truly unique in the world.
As Gu Yilan picked up the small white card holding the bracelet, a tiny card lying at the bottom of the box caught his eye.
It was a delicate, pale pink card with a cheesy declaration of love printed on it:
“You will always be the one my heart longs for, I will love you for a lifetime ❤️”
Although he knew the card likely came with the jewelry box and that Su Zesui might not have been aware of it, the moment he saw it, Gu Yilan’s heart skipped half a beat.
. . . . .
By the time Gu Yilan returned to the dining room, he saw that the table was filled with steaming dishes, the aroma wafting through the air. The boy was pacing anxiously, holding some stomach medicine in his hands.
Seeing him approach, Su Zesui quickly turned around and said, “Brother, are you still feeling unwell? I’ll pour you a cup of hot water so you can take your medicine.”
Gu Yilan’s gaze swept over his face, and with a faint parting of his lips, he said, “I’m fine. Let’s eat.”
Su Zesui studied Gu Yilan carefully, and only after confirming that his face didn’t look pale or fatigued, and that his body felt slightly warm, did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“Brother, I’ll serve you some rice.” Su Zesui put the medicine back in the cabinet and turned toward the kitchen.
Gu Yilan watched his figure disappear, his voice softly lingering in the air: “Mm. Good boy.”
Although Su Zesui had already eaten dinner, considering that he wanted to keep Gu Yilan company—and that the school cafeteria meals couldn’t compare to home-cooked food—he couldn’t help but feel tempted by the smell of the meat.
After serving two bowls of rice and sitting down beside Gu Yilan, Su Zesui finally noticed the bulge at Gu Yilan’s wrist under his sleeve. His eyes widened as he traced its outline carefully—it looked just like the bracelet he had given him!
Su Zesui felt a surge of joy and couldn’t help but curve his eyes into a smile. He picked up a piece of stomach-friendly carrot and offered it to Gu Yilan. “Brother, are you feeling better now?”
“I wasn’t angry to begin with,” Gu Yilan said lightly as he picked up the carrot. “Besides, I’m your brother. I’ve said it before: no matter what you do, I’ll never cut ties with you or stop taking care of you.”
Su Zesui felt relieved and stuffed a piece of sweet-and-sour pork rib into his mouth, then mumbled, “Brother… were some of these dishes made from mud?”
Gu Yilan replied, “A few of them, yes.”
Su Zesui laughed. “Then I really did grow up eating the meals my brother made.”
In a sense, he wasn’t wrong. Gu Yilan had taken care of him for over three years, watching him grow from a tiny, skinny boy into someone now standing 1.73 meters tall; from a timid 14-year-old who barely spoke a word to a cheerful university student.
During those crucial years of adolescence, Gu Yilan had escorted him to school, attended parent-teacher meetings on his behalf, helped him with math, guided him in understanding right and wrong, and shaped his values and personality—just like a real older brother, or even a father.
Gu Yilan paused for a moment before saying, “I’ll make them for you again in the future.”
With a weight lifted off his chest, Su Zesui happily buried himself in his meal. Halfway through, the butler even brought him a dessert, completely dispelling the lingering gloom in his heart.
After finishing the meal, it was almost time to return to their rooms. Su Zesui, holding his dessert, felt a bit reluctant to part ways. He followed Gu Yilan to his door and said, “Brother, rest early and take care of yourself. I still want you to look after me forever.”
It should have been a perfectly normal, affectionate remark between siblings—slightly exaggerated and unrealistic, but only meant to show the boy’s dependence on him.
Yet Gu Yilan, standing at the door with his eyes lowered, paused silently before taking on the role of the “spoilsport adult.” He said, “In the future, many other important people will appear in your life. I can’t be with you forever.”
Su Zesui froze and instinctively asked, “Important people?”
Gu Yilan parted his thin lips, hesitated for a moment, and finally said, “…It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
Before leaving, Su Zesui hurriedly added, “Brother, you’ll always be the person I love the most. I can stop being friends with anyone else, but I can’t be without you!”
After saying that, the boy, cheeks flushed, hugged his dessert and ran off, leaving Gu Yilan standing in place, fingertips frozen, heart slightly off balance, as the thoughts he had once controlled now surged wildly.
After a long while, he finally turned and returned to his room. He closed the door, took out his phone, and scheduled a home consultation with his psychologist for the weekend.
. . . . .
One weekend in early June, with the final exams still some time away, the Colorful Sun Volunteer Organization arranged an event. Various volunteer groups were to drive to a target elementary school to exchange gifts and letters with the children, fostering connection and making it easier to carry out teaching activities during the summer break.
As the group leader and one of the few with a car, Shi Fangbin naturally became one of the drivers.
Thinking back to his brother’s rejection of Shi Fangbin, Su Zesui considered it carefully but ultimately decided to go to the school on his own. He was no longer the timid child who dared not trouble Gu Yilan for anything. Now, he was anything but “polite,” wishing he could stick to his brother all day and monopolize his time.
Yet Shi Fangbin insisted on driving him there. Even after Su Zesui refused several times, Shi Fangbin still arrived at his doorstep on time, citing reasons like convenience, planning, and the fact that they were a team.
Coincidentally, that was also the day Gu Yilan had scheduled a home consultation with his psychologist.
Although this private psychologist wasn’t the same doctor who had treated the boy for anxiety back then, he was already an old acquaintance of Gu Yilan. Wearing glasses, dressed in casual clothes, and carrying his diagnostic notes, he came straight over.
He was not very old and had a good relationship with Gu Yilan. Since he already knew part of Gu Yilan’s past, he could skip the usual steps of building trust and taking a medical history, and directly proceed to a psychological assessment based on the information Gu Yilan provided.
After listening to a general description of the man’s current mental state, the psychologist pushed up his glasses and said thoughtfully, “So… the old condition has relapsed?”
Gu Yilan, sitting on the living room sofa, took a sip of hot tea and replied, “Yes.”
“Do you know what caused it?” The psychologist flipped through his notebook with a rustle, murmuring in confusion, “It shouldn’t be… did it just happen suddenly? To speak out of turn for a moment, your parents are the ones who need therapy more than you…”
“I don’t want him interacting with anyone else,” Gu Yilan interrupted, trimming the statement down to the bare facts.
The psychologist looked momentarily dumbfounded. “Who?”
When Gu Yilan’s gaze drifted toward the second floor, the psychologist immediately understood and comforted him: “Ah, I see. Don’t worry, don’t worry—this is actually very common among parents.”
Hearing the psychologist refer to himself as a “parent,” Gu Yilan unconsciously frowned.
Although the psychologist was somewhat quirky, as a returnee PhD he was highly competent and very skilled at detecting subtle emotional shifts in his patients.
Observing Gu Yilan’s instinctive reactions, he said, “You have a condition similar to what we saw before. Your need for control is probably stronger than that of an average parent. And a teenager is at the peak of self-awareness and independence—if you try to control his social life, you risk pushing him to rebel against you in the future.”
Gu Yilan set down his teacup calmly. “He won’t.”
“Alright, let’s assume he has a good temperament and won’t resist. But have you considered the consequences? This isn’t good for either of you. You’ll gradually trap yourself in a narrow mindset, while his personal development, social skills, and independent thinking will all be limited—like a delicate flower in a greenhouse, easily…”
As the psychologist spoke, a head suddenly appeared at the corner of the spiral staircase on the second floor.
The boy glanced at him, making sure not to interrupt anything important that couldn’t be paused, then tiptoed quietly down the stairs. The psychologist immediately fell silent.
Gu Yilan’s gaze was dark, but when the boy reached him, he tried to soften his tone as he asked, “What is it?”
Su Zesui pressed his fingers together and whispered, “Brother… today we’re going to Sunshine Elementary, and Shi Fangbin wants to drive me there…”
He had already hinted very clearly. He believed that Mr. Gu, who had always been particular about things and disliked Shi Fangbin, would definitely understand what he meant. He was sure Mr. Gu would immediately grab his car keys and, without any room for argument, tell him to get into his car.
But this time, Gu Yilan only turned his head to glance at the black car parked in the courtyard, pressed his thin lips together, and said in a hoarse voice, “Go. Come back early.”
Su Zesui was stunned. Stammering, he tried to protest, “But… but…”
Gu Yilan’s gaze rested on the teacup in front of him, and he raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”
With another person still on the sofa, Su Zesui felt a little embarrassed to say anything coquettish or spoiled. Realizing his subtle struggle was useless, he comforted himself: it was normal that Gu Yilan had important matters to attend to today and couldn’t accompany him, so there was no need to be sad…
“Well… bye, brother,” he mumbled, backpack slung over his shoulders, and trudged toward the door.
The psychologist smiled with satisfaction, about to praise Gu Yilan, when he noticed the man’s gaze remained glued to the boy—following him all the way out without shifting even once.
The psychologist cleared his throat lightly and offered some advice: “He’s an independent individual. He’ll have his own life, family, and career someday. Give him the freedom to grow, keep an appropriate distance, and don’t get too close, okay?”
Gu Yilan withdrew his gaze and muttered softly to himself, “It’s fine. He said he doesn’t like men.”
Psychologist: ???
He didn’t mean it that way. But judging by Gu Yilan’s dark, yet subtly frustrated tone, it felt like he had just stumbled onto some huge, shocking secret!
“So… uh, between you and him…” The psychologist trailed off, clearly hesitant to finish the question.
Gu Yilan anticipated what he was about to ask. He lowered his gaze, fingers tracing the delicate bracelet on his wrist. “He only sees me as his brother.”
The psychologist pressed on. “…And you? What do you feel for him?”
Gu Yilan paused his movements, thinking for a long moment before looking up. “I can’t tell clearly… but it’s love, in any case.”
After this exchange, the psychologist finally noticed the faint shadow of bruising under Gu Yilan’s eyes. Flustered, he murmured, “Th-this… this is tricky.”
“I know.” Gu Yilan finished his tea in one sip, stood, and said lightly, “I understand everything you said. I can control myself. If there’s nothing else to discuss, let’s end here for today.”
The psychologist also stood, watching the man’s upright, resolute figure. He opened his mouth as if to say something, hesitated, and then said nothing—just let out a long sigh.
Difficult, indeed.
. . . . .
Meanwhile, in Shi Fangbin’s black car…
In the last row, Su Zesui frowned, resting his chin in his hand, sitting next to a blushing female classmate, still puzzling over what had just happened.
Ever since the conflict that night, Mr. Gu seemed to have become busier. Although he was still very kind to Su Zesui—picking him up and dropping him off at school—he clearly spent more time at the office. When he occasionally spoke to Su Zesui, it was brief, nothing like the long, late-night conversations they used to have.
Su Zesui didn’t think his brother was avoiding him, and he had no reason to believe that. Could it be… that something had gone wrong at Mr. Gu’s company?
But even if he were unusually busy, how could Mr. Gu so casually let him get into Shi Fangbin’s car? Mr. Gu disliked Shi Fangbin so much—at the very least, he should have arranged for a driver to take him to school…
——He couldn’t figure it out. Why had this happened?
Su Zesui spent the whole day thinking about it. He wandered into the meeting half-asleep, mechanically accepted the letters and gifts from the children, and chatted absentmindedly with his groupmates. Words went in one ear and out the other; all he could do was nod along, murmuring “mm-hmm” throughout.
——What on earth was going on? It couldn’t be that Mr. Gu’s company was on the verge of bankruptcy, about to face massive debts or even legal trouble, and that’s why he was pushing him out of the picture, could it?
——That doesn’t seem likely. But then again, given Mr. Gu’s personality, it’s possible he would do something like that in a moment of crisis.
The more Su Zesui thought about it, the more confused his mind became. As soon as the event ended and he got home, he went straight to knock on Gu Yilan’s door.
After a day of overthinking, he finally saw the brother he had been thinking about all day. The evening breeze brushed against him, and Su Zesui, on the verge of tears, pressed his lips together and whispered, “Brother…”
Gu Yilan froze. “What’s wrong? Did someone bully you outside?”
Su Zesui wiped the corner of his eyes, shook his head, and choked out, “Is our family… about to go bankrupt?”
Gu Yilan: ?
“No. That’s just a rumor,” the man said firmly.
His words didn’t sound like a lie, which gave Su Zesui a bit of relief. He then carefully spoke the words he had been rehearsing in the car: “Then… brother, our group of classmates is planning a trip after the volunteer activity. Would you go with me?”
In previous summers, he had always traveled abroad with Mr. Gu. But this time, the volunteer activity had taken up most of his summer, leaving him with only one chance for a long trip. He felt certain that his brother, who usually worried about him even when he returned home late, wouldn’t refuse.
But Gu Yilan said, “They’re all your classmates. I’m not going.”
Su Zesui felt his heart sink. Before he could process it, the man had already turned and started walking back into his room.
In a panic, Su Zesui quickly grabbed Gu Yilan’s wrist to stop him. “Not all of them are just classmates,” he urged. “They’ll bring people they know… uh, like Chu Shihui and Tao Jiani—they’ll bring their boyfriends. Their boyfriends aren’t from our school; they might even be working already.”
The wrist he held was where Gu Yilan wore his bracelet, and the abrupt, icy touch of the silver against his palm made him anxious. He whispered, almost to himself, “If you’re not going… I don’t want to go either…”
In truth, even before Gu Yilan had a chance to respond, Su Zesui already knew that his brother was unlikely to accompany him.
Gu Yilan had a decisive personality. He didn’t make choices lightly, but once he did, no one could sway him.
Feeling a little dejected, Su Zesui lifted his gaze—and saw Gu Yilan’s Adam’s apple move as he spoke in a hoarse voice: “…They’re all bringing their boyfriends. If I go, what am I to you?”
Su Zesui: ?