After wiping his mouth, Alex resembled a satisfied cat, content after devouring a delicious meal. He squinted his eyes, their unusual color hinting at his complex lineage, and stretched lazily, arching his back like a lazy cat extending its claws.
Then, lifting his head, he noticed Song Xiaobao's thunderstruck expression. Unable to contain his annoyance, he scratched his chin and protested, "What's the deal, Song Lili? Are you discriminating against us? Wasn't it you who was always reading those kinky novels on your phone? I even caught a glimpse of that tentacle hentai story yesterday."
Song Xiaobao's tongue twisted, torn between explaining, denying, clarifying, and scolding Alex's nonsense. These thoughts jumbled up inside her, unable to find a proper order, each clamoring to be voiced first. Eventually, she stuttered out, "My second brother wouldn't discriminate against you, bullshit!"
Alex, taken aback, widened his eyes, "What? Discrimination even for farting? Do your intestines release air naturally through your pores? You're too high-tech!"
Speechless, Song Xiaobao could only resort to physical violence and started hitting him.
After a one-sided beating, the thick-skinned Alex nonchalantly fixed his tousled hair, observing Song Xiaobao slump wearily onto the hotel bed, wearing a bitter expression.
He reached out and playfully poked her, "What's wrong? Is it really that hard to accept?"
"Obviously! He's my brother, can it be the same?" Song Xiaobao swatted his hand away, then hugged her head in her hands, "What should I do? If my big brother finds out, he'll definitely kill him."
"Your big brother?" Alex asked, puzzled. "He's that strict?"
"I've told you before, right? We three siblings grew up without parents, and my big brother raised us," Xiaobao explained.
"Ah, traditional patriarch," Alex nodded in understanding, expressing sympathy with a shrug. Then, with a lecherous grin, he leaned closer, "Hey, sis, is your big brother handsome? Got any photos? Show me."
This time, Xiaobao opted for a more forceful approach and chased the scoundrel out with a series of blows.
After chasing away the scoundrel, she flopped back onto the bed, creating a dent, then rolled around in frustration. Eventually, unable to resist any longer, she reluctantly grabbed her phone and dialed the number Wei Zhiyuan had left her.
Wei Zhiyuan lived a healthy lifestyle and had already gone to bed. He answered after a while, his voice tinged with sleepiness, "Xiaobao? What's wrong?"
Pretending not to notice that she had just disturbed him, Song Xiaobao reckoned Wei Zhiyuan wouldn't mind anyway—she had annoyed him countless times since childhood, and her brothers should be used to it by now.
She rambled aimlessly for a while, and Wei Zhiyuan patiently listened. Eventually, it was Song Xiaobao who found herself at a loss for words, unable to continue the conversation. After a brief awkward silence, Wei Zhiyuan finally asked, "Is there something you want to tell me?"
Clearing her throat, Xiaobao awkwardly tried to mimic a joking tone with a strained voice and said, "I'll tell you something really funny. The guy who picked you up with me today is gay. He's so talkative, especially about handsome guys. He couldn't stop talking about how handsome you are, fantasizing about you."
Wei Zhiyuan chuckled calmly, "What about me?"
Xiaobao hesitated, unsure how to respond. But before she could gather her thoughts, Wei Zhiyuan said, "He's right, I am."
"..."
At that moment, it felt like a chorus of thousands of frogs had suddenly gathered in her mind, all croaking loudly in unison: "Ribbit!"
Xiaobao couldn't help but hold her breath, feeling like she was suffocating, before finally exhaling shakily, her ears ringing.
Wei Zhiyuan, hearing her silence, calmly said, "Surprised you, huh? I believe in being open about things. Keeping secrets and walking on thin ice all your life isn't worth it. It's okay if you can't accept it right away."
His attitude was so accepting that Song Xiaobao couldn't help but be drawn into his calm demeanor.
She thought about it and realized that Alex and her got along quite harmoniously. No matter how her second brother changed, he would still be the same person to her, not much different.
Xiaobao's strength lay in her ability to accept things easily. With this realization, she successfully cleared the heavy stone from her heart, feeling lighter. She even kindly expressed concern for Wei Zhiyuan, "That being said, you mustn't be so candid with my brother. Let me tell you, he's just..."
The smile deepened at the corners of Wei Zhiyuan's mouth. "He knows."
Once again, poor Xiaobao was caught off guard by his remark. She coughed violently for a moment before weakly saying, "You have some guts, daring to confess like that. Aren't you afraid of being punished by that tyrant?"
Wei Zhiyuan found Xiaobao's flustered reaction quite amusing. Now that they had reached this point, there was no longer any need to keep things from her. So, he bluntly dropped the final bombshell, "Because the person I like is him."
Xiaobao's phone finally slipped from her hand and hit the ground with a loud "clack." She felt like she needed a quick-fix heart medication.
When Wei Qian finally made it home, dragging his feet, he wondered if he had entered the wrong house.
Both he and Xiaobao were often out, so they made a habit of closing all the doors and windows. Every time he pushed the door open, he felt a stifling sensation in the stagnant air, which took a while to dissipate.
At night, besides the oppressive stillness, the house was filled with eerie silence.
Wei Qian always entered with a weariness, turned on the lights, opened the windows, and even turned on the TV, just to have some noise in the house, even if it was just commercials. Then he would slump onto the couch, exhausted, and call the cleaning service.
Sometimes Wei Qian even thought about getting a pet—despite his previous disdain for shedding animals, Xiaobao's repeated requests to get a dog when she was younger were always rejected. Now, he felt that having a cat, dog, or even a mouse would at least provide some living presence in the house, something to vent to when he returned home. Even if it was just talking to a cat or dog when he entered the house, it wouldn't seem so silly.
Unfortunately, it never happened. With no one home every day, not to mention needing to care for a pet, even the electronic pets died.
Over time, "coming home" became something he didn't look forward to at all.
But this time, when he pushed the door open, the first thing he noticed was a faint smell of laundry detergent lingering in the air. Stepping onto the balcony, he saw bedsheets, pillowcases, and a few pieces of clothing hanging there, fluttering in the wind.
Then, a tantalizing aroma of slow-cooked meat wafted through the air, emanating from a small pot in the kitchen that hadn't been used in ages. Wei Qian cautiously approached, wiping his hands on a towel, and carefully lifted the lid of the pot. The fragrance that billowed out nearly knocked him over.
Instantly, he thought, "Who cares about health? Eating meat is the way to go." He no longer wanted to touch soy sauce soup with bland boiled vegetables.
"You're back?" Wei Zhiyuan suddenly appeared, seemingly conjuring a pair of chopsticks out of thin air. He reached around Wei Qian's side, and from behind him, gently prodded the meat in the pot. "It's almost done."
Wei Zhiyuan had become more muscular since leaving home, and standing behind Wei Qian, he exuded a strong presence that made Wei Qian slightly uncomfortable.
But Wei Qian firmly believed that this discomfort stemmed from his own imagination. In terms of physique, Wei Zhiyuan could never compare to the naturally gifted San Pang from childhood. Every time San Pang got close to him, Wei Qian's only thought was, "This guy really takes up space."
Wei Qian suspected that Wei Zhiyuan had somehow made him a bit oversensitive over the years. He had thought he was over the offenses from his brother's youthful arrogance, but apparently not.
Although this time, Wei Zhiyuan had returned more mature in speech, behavior, and attitude, Wei Qian couldn't shake the feeling that, in some ways, Little Yuan seemed even more "neurotic" now. And as he aged, he seemed to have grown bolder and more difficult to deal with—every time Wei Zhiyuan approached him, intentionally or unintentionally, Wei Qian couldn't help but tense up.
However, Wei Qian soon regretted not avoiding Wei Zhiyuan.
Because Wei Zhiyuan promptly scooped out a piece of lean meat from the pot, carefully blowing away the scalding steam before unexpectedly extending his hand, lightly tapping Wei Qian's mouth with the chopsticks, and holding the meat right by his lips, specifically targeting his particularly sensitive ear, saying, "Taste it."
Wei Qian: "..."
Wei Zhiyuan pretended not to notice the slight twitching of Wei Qian's veins after the gentle nudge and took a step back, still smiling, "It's not hot anymore—oh, by the way, have you seen my proposal? What do you think?"
Wei Qian had no choice but to take the meat off the chopsticks and casually discuss their investment in the online game.
This was just the beginning. For a long time afterward, Wei Qian lived on the edge of peculiar breakdowns and enjoyment.
What drove him to the brink of breakdown was Wei Zhiyuan's attitude towards him.
Wei Zhiyuan often used subtle ambiguous gestures to approach him. If Wei Qian awkwardly ignored them, Wei Zhiyuan would suddenly cross a line. But just before Wei Qian could erupt in anger, Wei Zhiyuan would quickly retreat to safety, then try to please him by acting as if it was all in jest and solemnly discussing other matters with him.
Wei Zhiyuan took the guerrilla warfare tactics of "advance when the enemy retreats, harass when the enemy halts, wear down the enemy to attack, pursue when the enemy retreats" to the extreme. He was like a groundhog that had dug a hundred and eighty holes in the ground, never knowing when or where it would pop up, grinning maliciously. Wei Qian couldn't raise the stick to strike before he would retract and vanish, only to reappear at an unexpected time and place.
When Wei Zhiyuan was disobedient as a child, Wei Qian could simply pick him up and give him a beating. As he grew older, though physically punishing him wasn't feasible, in the days before Wei Zhiyuan went abroad, Wei Qian found that simply being distant would cause the boy to become as lost as a soul, allowing himself to be manipulated.
Now, Wei Qian was certain that neither of these methods for dealing with Wei Zhiyuan were effective.
Before he could decide how to conclude this precarious situation if he were to pierce through this crumbling façade, Wei Qian didn't want to risk making things worse.
For a while, he had no choice but to endure it, feeling as though he lived under the constant ambush of Wei Zhiyuan, who could "pop up" anywhere, anytime.
But what he enjoyed was that since Wei Zhiyuan's return, this house finally felt like a home.
Having someone to talk to when he entered the house made a real difference. Genuine communication and dialogue were different from perfunctory or polite small talk. Even the most self-absorbed or solitary person would find it hard to resist the charm of genuine interaction.
Little Bao couldn't achieve this. Wei Qian had limited aesthetic ability. Despite his concern for his sister, he found it difficult to understand her circle of friends or her interests. He couldn't keep track of the people she talked about or understand what she did.
But Wei Zhiyuan was different. Wei Qian discovered that Little Yuan loved to articulate his views on things from a conceptual level. His interest lay in designing various online and offline games. Apart from the technical aspects, Wei Zhiyuan enjoyed formulating or abstracting game rules. His thinking was extremely clear, adept at simulating various scenarios, somewhat reminiscent of Ma Chunming.
However, Ma Chunming struggled with expressing himself. Sometimes he had ideas but couldn't articulate them clearly, and if he couldn't keep up with Wei Zhiyuan's train of thought, their conversation would become incomprehensible. It seemed like Wei Zhiyuan had an extra intelligent interactive platform compared to him.
Since his return, Wei Qian felt that he had spoken more in the past month than in the entire previous year.
In the end, he had almost gotten used to the daily routine of Wei Zhiyuan cutting fruits in the kitchen while he leaned against the door talking to him.
Having a home that was soothing, relaxing, and pleasant was something many people couldn't hope for.
But this peculiar state of balance was only temporary.
Wei Qian couldn't delude himself into continuing this facade, and Wei Zhiyuan certainly wouldn't be content with just testing the waters repeatedly. As he became more brazen, the surface balance became increasingly precarious, waiting for the final straw to break the camel's back.
And that final straw arrived.
One evening, Wei Qian returned home from work, half-lounging on the sofa for a while to rest. As he dozed off, almost drifting into sleep, he felt something, suddenly waking up to find Wei Zhiyuan kneeling beside the sofa, his hand still gently stroking Wei Qian's cheek and chin, before he could pull it back.
Wei Zhiyuan seemed to have developed an indestructible body like that of a Vajra, and an ironclad facade. Even when caught red-handed doing something wrong, he appeared unfazed. Instead, he took advantage of Wei Qian still being half-asleep, pushing the boundaries further by sliding his hand down Wei Qian's arm and eventually taking his hand, insinuating strongly as he lightly licked around his fingers.
The warm and slightly rough tongue enveloped the intertwined fingers, the scorching breath lightly grazing through the extremely sensitive gaps between the fingers. Wei Qian's scalp almost exploded, his recently awakened heart beating almost deafeningly loud.
Like being shocked, he jerked his hand back, realizing that this couldn't continue like this.
"Xiao Yuan." It took him a while to speak up this time.
This time, Wei Qian didn't erupt in anger. He just sat up from the sofa, his expression serious as he said, "I need to talk to you about this."
Wei Zhiyuan raised a finger to his lips, "Shh, not today. How about tomorrow? Tomorrow is the weekend, at least take a day off and rest. Don't go to the office, accompany me fishing, okay?"
Wei Qian didn't object. He thought it would be better to remain calm, to let things settle overnight and think about it carefully.
The next morning, they went to the same fishing pond they had been to before. It had changed ownership and undergone several renovations, with prices increasing. As autumn grew colder, tourists became sparse. However, the little pavilion they had occupied in the past was still there, refurbished, its pointed roof tiles painted brightly, looking somewhat artificial.
Wei Zhiyuan walked in, revisiting the familiar place, skillfully baiting the fish and casting his line.
Wei Qian, however, was not focused on fishing at all. After a long silence, he sat down beside Wei Zhiyuan and decided not to beat around the bush, saying directly, "Give it up, it's impossible."
Wei Zhiyuan's gaze remained fixed on the fishing float nearby, showing no sign of fluctuation. Upon hearing this, he simply responded calmly, "Brother, you can't make me give up. Even I can't make myself give up. People can't control their hearts."
Wei Qian asked him, "So what do you want in the future then?"
Wei Zhiyuan chuckled softly, twisting open two bottles of mineral water and handing one to Wei Qian. He said, "Four years ago, I've been pondering these questions all along—what should I do? How can I make you accept me? What if you don't want me? The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't figure it out. When the plane took off, all I could think of was your silhouette prying my hand apart. At that moment, it felt like my heart was tearing apart. But later, I gradually realized that those thoughts were meaningless."
Wei Qian leaned against the nearby pillar, arms crossed over his chest, waiting to hear Wei Zhiyuan's perplexing journey of the heart. His mood was somewhat solemn, feeling like he was holding a scalpel facing someone with festering wounds; no matter how uncomfortable, he had to confront it.
"At first, I felt that if my possessiveness towards you was never satisfied, or if my feelings were never reciprocated, then it would be better to kill me. I was insanely jealous of every imaginary person who wanted to get close to you. In my imagination, I created these people and then killed them all to relieve my anxiety."
"But on the day when you tripped over the phone line and I thought something happened to you, even though San Ge reassured me, I still had nightmares at night. I dreamed that there were many people around you, and they disappeared one by one, leaving only you alone in my sight. I watched you coming and going alone every day, fainting in the living room when you were sick, with no one knowing, only able to wait until you woke up naturally and staggered to find medicine. Then for a long time after that, whenever I closed my eyes, I would see this scene."
"After about a month or so, one day, in my fantasy, I saw someone vague beside you. I couldn't tell if that person was male or female, beautiful or ugly. They just kept company with you, like a ghostly shadow. Normally, I would have created these people in my imagination just to eventually kill them, but I didn't do it later because I saw you smiling at them. How long has it been since you smiled in my dreams? I can't even count."
Wei Zhiyuan's voice was low and steady, narrating like the vast and profound light and shadow reflected on a mirror-like water surface. But Wei Qian felt suffocated listening to him.
If Wei Zhiyuan was talking about someone else, at this point, as the big brother, he would tie that person up and bring them back. But why did it have to be him?
From the moment he was born, he had never felt anyone's expectations, let alone such deep love.
Wei Zhiyuan's words rolled off his tongue like the smooth beads in his hand, unremarkable in appearance yet carrying an inexplicable sentiment that could shake one's soul if spoken aloud.
But why did it have to be his younger brother?
"I suddenly felt enlightened. At that moment, I thought, even if I return home after graduation in a few years and see you married to someone else, I won't beg for death anymore," Wei Zhiyuan said. "I can continue to love you. If that unknown lady loves you more than I do, I can remain silent for the rest of my life. Of course, I'll be in agony, but I can also take that agony as a form of cultivation."
Like the religion of earthly suffering and unattainable bliss, originating from the mundane and establishing a spiritual bridge between the two.
Wei Qian asked softly, "Cultivate what?"
Wei Zhiyuan turned his head, gazing quietly at him in the breeze, without answering, yet the answer was already apparent.
—Of course, it's to cultivate a lifetime of joy and peace with you.
He suddenly reached out and grabbed Wei Qian's hand resting on the railing. Wei Qian instinctively recoiled, but he was firmly held down by Wei Zhiyuan. The wooden beads on their wrists collided, emitting a faint sound, even the water's murmur quieted down.
A fish nibbled the bait, causing the float to bob vigorously, but no one paid attention.
After an unknown amount of time, Wei Qian felt his palms were already soaked with sweat, yet his face remained pale and devoid of reason.
He squeezed Wei Zhiyuan's wrist, forcing him to let go, and said firmly, "I'll say it again, give up on this."
Wei Zhiyuan smiled faintly, said nothing more, picked up the fishing rod, and with a flick of his wrist, a big fish leaped out of the water, its brilliant scales shimmering in the sunlight.
"No matter how well he pretends, he's shaken," Wei Zhiyuan thought joyfully. "His pulse just quickened a moment ago."