Chapter 18

Since Qi Liangqin was a player himself, he could appreciate Yan Bozong's skill even more. It was obvious that Yan Bozong was going easy on Yan Songwei, making their match seem more evenly matched. Yet, his footwork was so swift and precise—his movements restrained yet still brimming with aggressive energy. This was the true definition of "still as a virgin, moving like a rabbit."

The game had been going on for a while, and both men were already drenched in sweat. Yan Songwei spread his arms wide in defense, while Yan Bozong dribbled, body crouched low, his sharp eyes locked onto his opponent. Beads of sweat slid down his face with each breath. The morning sun bathed him in a golden glow.

Qi Liangqin watched, mouth slightly open, as Yan Bozong suddenly leaped into the air. His long, lean body stretched gracefully, the basketball leaving his fingertips, tracing a beautiful arc before landing in the hoop with a loud clang.

The ball dropped through the net, bouncing onto the ground with rhythmic thuds, each one echoing in Qi Liangqin's chest.

Perhaps it was the thrill of victory, but Yan Bozong suddenly let out a laugh. His sweat-drenched face shimmered in the sunlight, transforming him completely—so warm, so radiant.

At last, Qi Liangqin understood why the version of himself in the novel had fallen for Yan Bozong after watching him play just a few times.

On the court, Yan Bozong was agile, youthful, and bursting with vitality—a stark contrast to his usual strict and distant demeanor. The restrained beast within him was unleashed here, its power on full display.

It was impossible not to fantasize about how that same strength and agility would translate into the bedroom.

No wonder Yan Bozong ended up soaked in sweat.

And no wonder Qi Liangqin, sitting on the sidelines, ended up just as wet.

As the two brothers finished their game and were about to head back, they finally noticed Qi Liangqin. He stood up and greeted them.

"You're here? When did you come?" Yan Songwei asked.

"Aunt Chun said you two were playing basketball here, so I came to take a look," Qi Liangqin replied. As he spoke, he hopped down the steps of the stands one by one until he landed right in front of them.

Perhaps wanting to put on a show of affection for his older brother, Yan Songwei casually threw an arm around Qi Liangqin's neck. His sweat-soaked arm pressed against Qi Liangqin's face. Qi Liangqin instinctively wanted to pull away but held back, merely smiling as he reached up to grab Yan Songwei's hand and move his arm off his shoulder.

Yan Songwei let go of him and said, "I'm covered in sweat."

"Go take a shower, then," Qi Liangqin said, turning his head slightly to glance at Yan Bozong behind him. He pressed his lips together before saying, "Big Brother, your basketball skills are amazing."

"Oh? And mine aren't?" Yan Songwei shot back.

"They're… decent."

"Wow, getting bold now, huh? Daring to say your husband isn't good at basketball?"

At the word husband, Qi Liangqin instantly flushed red. His eyes darted toward Yan Bozong, stealing a glance. "W-What… what husband?"

"I am your husband. What, got a problem with that?" Yan Songwei pretended to be annoyed and threw his arm around Qi Liangqin's neck again. "Come on, call me husband—let me hear it."

"Stop messing around," Qi Liangqin protested, his face burning. There was no way he was calling him that in front of Yan Bozong—it was way too embarrassing.

"You weren't shy about it last night," Yan Songwei teased shamelessly. "Getting all embarrassed now just 'cause Big Brother's here? What's the big deal? You're my wife—we're openly and proudly gay."

Yan Bozong let out a small chuckle, then casually dribbled the basketball and walked ahead, as if intentionally giving them some space.

But the moment Yan Bozong moved away, Qi Liangqin immediately shoved Yan Songwei's arm off him. With a flushed face, he pointed a warning finger at him, his expression serious yet clearly flustered.

Yan Songwei grinned, looking unexpectedly more handsome with sweat glistening on his face. Flashing a set of white teeth, he waggled his eyebrows at Qi Liangqin, leaned in, and whispered, "Come on, play along a little, will you?"

"Go take a shower," Qi Liangqin said. "You reek of sweat."

"You don't like the smell?" Yan Songwei suddenly asked.

The question made Qi Liangqin feel a little self-conscious. He knew there were plenty of guys in his community who did enjoy the scent of sweat. And sure enough, Yan Songwei knew about it too. "I've heard a lot of people in your circle are into that—straight guys' sweat, their underwear, even their socks. Some even sell that stuff online."

Qi Liangqin turned to look at him. "How do you know so much about this?" He was starting to wonder if Yan Songwei was actually straight.

Yan Songwei shrugged. "I've got buddies who've been with men before. Picked up a thing or two from them. But seriously, you guys have some wild tastes."

"It's not like everyone is like that," Qi Liangqin muttered, lowering his voice as he stole a glance at Yan Bozong. "It's just a small subset of people. Every group has its own niche interests. But society stereotypes us. They think we're all cross-dressing, effeminate weirdos."

Yan Songwei chuckled. "Yeah, that's true. I have to admit, when I first found out you were gay, I was really surprised. You don't seem that way at all. I just felt like there was something different about you, but I never made the connection. Hell, I even got jealous of you and Qingqing back then."

Qi Liangqin twitched his lips but didn't continue the topic.

He wasn't comfortable talking about his sexuality with others. It always felt awkward. Even in a society where same-sex marriage was legal and common, he still felt like an outlier.

He was a man who longed to be taken by another man. He felt ashamed and insecure about the desires hidden deep in his bones, as if every gay man, at the beginning of his sexual awakening, would inevitably drown in this inexplicable sense of shame. Born as a man, yet carrying a soul that was half androgynous.

Aunt Chun had already prepared breakfast. As Qi Liangqin helped set the table, he saw Yan Yuan and Madam Yan coming downstairs together.

"You're up so early," Yan Yuan said. "Where's my second brother?"

"They just finished playing basketball," Aunt Chun replied. "Both of them are showering now. I made black rice porridge this morning."

"Then Second Brother should eat more," Yan Yuan chuckled. "Aunt Chun always says black foods are good for the kidneys."

However, both Yan Bozong and Yan Songwei skipped breakfast. They had to go to the company for a meeting and said they would eat afterward.

Madam Yan frowned. "If you knew you were in a hurry, why bother playing basketball?"

"Aren't they in different companies? Why are they having a meeting together?" Qi Liangqin asked casually.

The moment he spoke, Madam Yan's expression darkened. "Do you know anything about the man you married?"

Qi Liangqin felt awkward and could only offer her a sheepish smile. Yan Yuan pulled him to sit beside her and explained, "My second brother works at our family's old company, Yan Group Shenglun. My eldest brother's company was a separate venture he started when he took some of his own people and branched out. Back then, the real estate market was uncertain, and no one knew what the government's next move would be, so he started a new business in an emerging industry—Shengda. But Shengda is still under Yan Group, so sometimes they have joint meetings."

"So Songwei's rank is actually higher than Big Brother's…" Qi Liangqin mused.

Yan Yuan picked up a fried dough stick, her pink-painted nails standing out. "Not necessarily. Second Brother is in the old company, where a bunch of senior executives who worked with Mom back in the day still haven't retired. Even though he's the chairman of Shenglun, he still has to consult with the board on many matters. His authority is limited. But Big Brother is different—his company is practically independent, and his word is law. He's the big boss because he built it from the ground up. The old company's board knows they have little influence over him, so they don't interfere much."

"This is like the saying, 'Better to be the head of a chicken…' rather than the tail of a phoenix, right?"

Yan Yuan froze for a moment, nearly choking on her food. "I thought you were going to say… 'rather than the rear of an ox.'"

"Don't talk about such crude things at the dining table," Madam Yan shot them a glare before turning to Qi Liangqin. "Xiao Qin, what's your highest level of education? High school?"

Qi Liangqin lowered his head, looking like a timid daughter-in-law. "Vocational college."

"A secondary vocational school or a higher vocational college?"

"Higher vocational… higher vocational…"

But in Madam Yan's eyes, a higher vocational degree wasn't much better than a secondary one. Both of her sons had graduated from prestigious universities—her second son, Yan Songwei, had even studied abroad. Even though she didn't like Shen He, her eldest son's wife, the woman was still a foreign-educated PhD and a high-level intellectual. Families like theirs, already wealthy, needed people who could enhance their social standing. Education mattered.

"Do you want to continue studying?" she asked.

In reality, Qi Liangqin wanted to say that he had also graduated from a top university and had once been an academic star. But in this life, he was just a vocational college graduate—an arts major, no less. So, he nodded.

Madam Yan said, "I'll reach out to some friends and see which university I can get you into."

Qi Liangqin didn't bother asking how she planned to get him in. He didn't understand the ways of the wealthy, but he was sure Madam Yan could make it happen. That worked for him. If he wanted to make money, he needed a degree. He was too honest to succeed in business and would have to settle for being an ordinary salaried worker. At least he already had a house now—his life's struggles had been shortened by twenty years.

Besides, in all the years since graduating, there hadn't been a single moment when he didn't miss his university days.

It was strange—his college life had actually been quite dull. Every day was just studying and hanging out at internet cafes. He had never traveled anywhere, never dated, never even had a secret crush on anyone. There had been no pain, no sweetness. Looking back, there was hardly anything worth reminiscing about. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, he missed it. When he thought about his first years in university, his heart was full of nostalgia. On countless nights, lying alone in bed, he would recall the streets outside his alma mater, lined with flowers blooming in spring, and the small path behind the dorms that always flooded when it rained.

Perhaps what he missed wasn't the university itself, but his youth—the inexperienced version of himself from that time.

If time could rewind, how would he relive his college years? He had thought about this countless times in the past. And now, at twenty years old, he had the chance to experience university life all over again. The thought reminded him that he was, once again, a xiaoxianrou—a fresh-faced young man.

According to Baidu Encyclopedia, xiaoxianrou refers to young and handsome men, typically aged 12 to 30, with a pure personality, little romantic experience, and a beautiful appearance.

By that definition, he hadn't yet crossed thirty, and he had no romantic history, so he should still count as xiaoxianrou, right? But he wasn't. No one had ever called him that. Which only proved that the last criterion—the good looks—was the most important one.

So it seemed that society worked this way, and books were no different.

The mere thought that he was now inside a novel, living in a fictional world, filled him with disbelief. Life itself might be nothing more than a fleeting dream, but the fact that he was now truly existing in another reality was still incredible. He recalled the unbearable, almost soul-rending pain he had suffered whenever he strayed from the storyline. If he kept resisting the plot, letting that pain tear him apart—what would happen? Would he die? And if he died in this world, would he return to the other one?

He didn't know. And because he didn't know, he didn't dare act recklessly.

Everything about Qi Liangqin had already been predetermined—written in ink on the pages. It was these events that shaped his character, and his character that shaped the book itself. If he deviated too much from the plot, if the character collapsed, would he cease to exist as well?

Perhaps this wasn't so bad. The things he had once wanted to do but never dared, the private desires he had long buried—now, through Qi Liangqin, he could indulge them freely.

Sometimes, being shameless was just another way to happiness.