When he went into the lab the following week, Chen Huanyi made sure to tell Professor Shen the news. Professor Shen nodded and said he would definitely accept him, no need to worry. Only after they discussed the topic of his undergraduate thesis among other things did Chen Huanyi finally relax somewhat. He would continue working on his current project and submit his thesis proposal when it was time.
Chen Huanyi felt like he’d gotten his life back on track. It was as though he’d spent a few weeks caught in a nightmare before he finally managed to throw the devil off of his back and go back to normal. But sometimes he’d think to himself—how could that be called a nightmare? It was clearly a beautiful dream—the most beautiful dream he’d ever had. He was like a zombie who’d been given a soul for a single day, only to turn back into a zombie once that day was over. He hurtled around in endless circles like a mechanical spinning top, but he never again felt as wonderfully whole as he did when his body was replete with a soul that day.
Of course, Chen Huanyi still completed each of his experiments as accurately as an extremely expensive calibration weight. He finished all his data analyses as precisely as a double data type, and wrote up every report with such impeccable word choice, sentence construction, and logical flow that there was absolutely nothing to debug.
But it seemed like he’d already seen how his whole life would play out. In moments of clarity, he mocked himself. Look at yourself, Chen Huanyi—you lived just a single day of that life, yet you got addicted to it faster than drugs. If you were living through a war, wouldn’t you end up as a traitor to your country?
Word by word, sentence by sentence, he told himself—Chen Huanyi, what you’re doing now is the right thing to do.
Indeed—the right thing to do.
In all his twenty years, Chen Huanyi’s biggest fear was making mistakes. He’d long been familiar with a basic principle of life—although the costs of learning by trial and error weren’t high, for a child growing up in an ordinary household, there weren’t enough resources for you to make mistakes. If you did something wrong, you wouldn’t necessarily get the opportunity to try again. Therefore, you had to do your best to make choices universally deemed “correct,” to follow pursuits in line with mainstream values.
Although happiness was never guaranteed, by choosing something most people thought would make you happy, at least the likelihood of being happy should be higher, right? Getting a bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate from a famous school, then going abroad to build your network before returning to your alma mater as a professor with an internationally esteemed reputation—surely this was happiness?
If you choose BDSM or whatever, you’ll probably end up like a rat living in the gutter. Sure, eating rotten food all alone would be pleasurable, but when the sun shone into that dark gutter, wouldn’t it be blinding? Would you dare to face those dazzling rays and reveal your choice in the light of day? Actually, forget about the sunlight—would you dare reveal it to your parents?
Chen Huanyi, among the myriad of choices you’ll face in your lifetime, you probably don’t know which one is the right choice at the moment. However, the wrong choice is as clear as day.
He told himself these things over and over again, warning himself repeatedly, as if trying to brainwash himself.
On the nights when his roommates had all gone home or gotten rooms elsewhere, he still couldn’t help logging into the forum to look at the photos or videos Doctor K had sent to him as he stroked himself off with a trembling hand. But after he came, he always sunk into a deep self-loathing, hating himself for not being able to control his body and his desires.
At least he was a normal person most of the time, his busyness filling in the gaps, leaving him no time to ponder whether his life was meaningful or happy.
His research project proceeded smoothly, and he presented his results on time. Prizes and scholarships came rolling in, along with grants and funding.
One day, when Chen Huanyi was mixing culture media, he suddenly discovered that he couldn’t do repetitive tasks for long periods of time. His brain would empty out when his body was mechanically going through the motions, letting thoughts that he shouldn’t be thinking seep into his mind.
Therefore, he began trying to recite things from memory whenever he was doing repetitive tasks.
His shixiong walked into the lab one time to find Chen Huanyi mixing culture media with both hands while muttering under his breath. “Chen Huanyi, are you a witch?” he teased.
Chen Huanyi dazedly recited the rest of the sentence. “I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”
His shixiong stared at him. Don’t say this kind of stuff to a straight guy like me.
Soon, the last winter break of his senior year arrived. Chen Huanyi had already adopted the lifestyle of a grad student—he only took two weeks off for the new year before returning to the lab. Many grad students still hadn’t come back to campus by then, so the buildings were unsettlingly empty, and he was usually the only person working at the bench.
One night, after he finished working up his data in lab, he gathered up his things and slowly walked downstairs, preparing to return to his dorm. On the way back, he walked past the lobby and noticed someone looking at the wall of honor in the atrium.
The wall of honor was divided into two halves, with faculty on the left and students on the right. It didn’t contain many names—only professors who had obtained especially outstanding research results or students with exceptionally good grades would usually be honored there after each semester.
This most recent iteration of the wall of honor listed a very select few faculty members—it had probably been updated in the last couple of days, as Chen Huanyi discovered it was rather different from last semester’s. He walked over to take a closer look.
The lighting in the atrium wasn’t very good at night, so it wasn’t until he drew near that he noticed his own name and picture on the wall. Smaller text underneath summarized his grades, research projects, and competition results. The photograph looked somewhat silly—Chen Huanyi wasn’t good at posing for pictures, and his smile was always a little stiff. Photos exaggerated one’s shortcomings anyway; after looking at himself for a while and thinking that his features seemed all wrong, he couldn’t bear it anymore and went to check out how the others looked.
His gaze flitted over the other pictures—the other students on this side were all pretty ordinary. Besides, no matter how good-looking they were, they couldn’t be more eye-catching than his write-up. After nearly throwing his head back and laughing out loud, he glanced at the faculty side of the wall. First, an old grandpa with a kindly face; second, an aged man hanging onto life by a thread; third, an auntie—no comment; fourth, a big-shot S, hmm, pretty handsome…
Chen Huanyi didn’t look at the fifth person.
He silently tightened the straps on his backpack, sniffled, and ran out the door.
“It sure is cold,” he scoffed, looking up at the sky. Then he hurried back to his dorm.
He tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep soundly. His biological clock woke him up early the next morning and forced him to go to lab. But by the time lunch rolled around, he was exhausted. He sprawled out on his desk to rest for a while.
He hadn’t anticipated that he would fall asleep instantly and start dreaming.
In his dream, he was standing in front of the man. The man was still wearing the same suit as before, albeit this time with a light blue striped tie with a platinum clip and cufflinks.
Whereas he himself was wearing an extremely ridiculous sailor suit, in the style of a Japanese high school girl’s uniform, with a pair of thigh-high white socks.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked him.
“I really missed you,” he heard himself respond.
The man patted him on the head and said helplessly. “But I let only you go because you said no.”
He tearfully tugged on the man’s shirt. “I was wrong. Please punish me, won’t you…”
The man’s mouth curved up in a devious smile. He took out a large whip from behind his back that was even taller than he was. His figure seeming to emanate dark smoke, he said, “Okay then.”
The whip sent him flying.
Chen Huanyi’s leg jerked, as though he had tripped over something while sitting in his chair. The discomfort was enough to wake him.
He muttered in a daze, “I heard that if you twitch or feel yourself falling in your sleep, you’re still growing…”
His shijie in the lab laughed out loud. “How are you still growing if you’re already in your twenties? I looked it up before—your body shakes you if it wants to make sure you’re not dead, just like how the QQ pop-up window used to shake.” [1]
Chen Huanyi’s expression was innocently confused. “Shijie… what’s QQ? Is that something you eighties kids used to play with?”
The shijie was rendered speechless.
Chen Huanyi worked in lab until late that night. By the time he left by himself, the atrium in the lobby was already deserted. He couldn’t help walking over to the wall of honor again. He didn’t spare a glance for himself, instead going straight to the faculty side to look at the fourth picture.
There was a faint glare on the man’s rimless glasses that obscured his eyes. The lines of his nose and chin were as handsome as ever, the planes of his face strikingly defined despite the deceptive lighting. He couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and stroke the man’s lips, jaw, throat…
“Lin Kai…”
“So your name is Lin Kai,” Chen Huanyi murmured softly.
Chen Huanyi quietly and deliberately read the summary of the man’s accomplishments out loud. It was truly impressive; beautiful, even—and more dazzling than his own record.
Hearing the sound of footsteps behind him, Chen Huanyi hurriedly took a step back and turned to leave.
“Ohh, it’s Huanyi—still in lab at this hour?” Unexpectedly, he came face to face with Professor Shen, who was flanked by two other teachers. “He’s the student I was telling you guys about, haha, he’s preparing for his postgraduate studies in my group… Huanyi, are you reading about Lin-laoshi? Is he a suitable role model for you? Haha…”
Chen Huanyi lowered his head. “I’ve never seen such an impressive summary of accomplishments before.”
Professor Shen laughed out loud. “Isn’t that right! Hey, Lin-laoshi, did you hear that?”
Chen Huanyi kept his head lowered. He heard the deep voice that echoed in his ears day and night let out a laugh. “I’ve seen Chen Huanyi’s entry on the wall of honor many times. Professor Shen’s star student has a very bright future indeed.”
Chen Huanyi seemed to hear a low rumbling in his ears. Scarcely able to make out what the others were saying, he could only haplessly nod along.
Long after the professors left, he finally staggered back to his dorm.
Laying in his bed, he pressed a hand over the left side of his chest. It felt so sore—what was going on? He wanted to force himself to go to sleep, but even taking a deeper breath seemed monumentally difficult. It was as though someone was squeezing his ribcage and pinching his stomach.
It was so long ago already…
But he still couldn’t bear it.
It was like he had taken a sip of a mixed drink without treating it like alcohol at all. After getting his first taste, he nonchalantly gulped down more, as if it were juice, but he still ended up getting drunk. He found himself face down on the ground, unable to get up, oblivious as to how he had died.
Thus, upon seeing that drink again, he couldn’t help but shudder.
He was the one who had an excuse, who spoke up out of principle, who made the rejection in the first place. So why was the whiplash so strong?
Checking his phone, he saw that it was already one in the morning. What should he do—he felt awful, but all his roommates were already asleep. He rolled over and got out of bed. After changing his clothes, he grabbed his phone and wallet and hurried out of the building.
He sprinted into the darkness.
Just like when he couldn’t get past security that night, could he go back to the same place and beg him to take him in for the night?
Just one night.
If only for one night.
He pressed the button for that familiar floor with a shaking hand.
He walked over to that door one step at a time.
Finally, he rang the doorbell.
He probably only waited a dozen or so seconds, but it felt like a dozen torturous centuries. If he had to wait a second longer, he might have shriveled up and perished.
The door creaked open softly.
Chen Huanyi didn’t dare lift his head. He saw thick carpet, then a pair of hotel slippers, and then a pair of bare calves…
His lips started trembling.
“Who are you looking for?” asked the person at the door, her voice guarded and wary.
“I’m looking for… a Mr. Lin,” Chen Huanyi heard himself say hoarsely.
The young woman repeated after him suspiciously. “Mr. Lin?”
Chen Huanyi nodded robotically. “Is… he here?”
A middle-aged man walked over to stand behind the young woman. He solicitously wrapped an arm around her waist and then stared at Chen Huanyi. “You’ve got the wrong room.”
Chen Huanyi hurriedly bowed and launched into a string of apologies until the door slammed shut.
He ended up wandering around aimlessly on the streets. He was a dumbass. It had been mid-October when they first met, and now it was almost March. No one would live in a hotel for half a year; how would he possibly still be there? When he’d said “I’m staying here for a while,” of course he meant only “a while,” probably a month at most. He must have moved out ages ago.
So where was he then…
How did it end up like this? It was just one night, many many months ago. Why was the whiplash so strong?
His mouth filled with a bitter taste.
After walking around in circles for some time, Chen Huanyi ended up back on campus. He went to the twenty-four hour convenience store next to the main entrance and bought a pack of beers. Then he sat down on the curb and started drinking. He didn’t like the taste of alcohol, but he remembered the feeling of being drunk from a party he’d gone to. That was precisely the feeling he needed so badly right now—giddy, dizzying, and utterly mindless.
He downed can after can, six in total. Alcohol always hit hardest on an empty stomach, and Chen Huanyi had nothing in his system except for the beer, but somehow, he could still remember that man. He angrily grabbed a can and stalked back toward the convenience store. However, once he walked in the door, he quailed. He couldn’t muster the courage to complain that the beer was useless, so he just asked for a marker, a graffiti marker… He mimed scribbling in mid-air as he spoke.
The shopkeeper handed him a marker right away and shooed him out of the store.
Marker in hand, he indignantly stomped over to the lobby of the biology building.
Glaring at the photograph with “Lin Kai” written underneath it, he yanked the cap off of the marker. “I’m gonna cover you up!” he growled ferociously.
When Chen Huanyi woke up the next morning, he was so dizzy he could hardly sit up. After pulling himself upright with effort, he still felt like the world was spinning. With yet more effort, he realized that he wasn’t in his own room—in fact, he had no idea where he was. After racking his brains, he vaguely remembered drinking all those beers, but was unable to recall much else at all.
It was only after quite a while that he noticed there was someone sitting at the desk on the other side of the room, reading something on a laptop. Thinking this scene was rather familiar, Chen Huanyi gingerly clambered down from the bed. Trying and failing to move quietly, he tottered in the direction of the desk.
The man was wearing a hotel bathrobe and sitting with his head cocked slightly to the side. The first thing Chen Huanyi caught sight of was that pair of rimless eyeglasses, their gold temples glinting coldly.
He didn’t know how he was supposed to address the man before him; the whole thing felt like a dream. As if bewitched, he walked over to the man and slowly knelt down at his feet. Even after what seemed like ages, the man didn’t move. Chen Huanyi’s feet were all pins and needles, but the man still didn’t acknowledge him. Despairing somewhat, he looked up fearfully, searching for the man’s eyes as he softly tugged on the corner of his bathrobe.
The man wrapped a pair of strong arms around him and put him back on the bed, all without looking straight at him.
“Once the hotel laundry sends your clothes back, I’ll take you home.”
A shudder rippled through Chen Huanyi. He jumped up from the bed and dropped heavily to his knees once again. Even though the carpet was so thick, the movement still made a dull thud.
Chen Huanyi didn’t even know why he was doing this. All he knew was that if he didn’t, he’d lose the person in front of him once again.
Lin Kai didn’t say anything.
Chen Huanyi didn’t get up either.
Their impasse dragged on until Lin Kai finally spoke up calmly. “You don’t need to kneel for me.”
True. He had turned down their relationship, and Lin Kai had acquiesced.
Their master and slave relationship no longer existed.
Chen Huanyi obstinately remained on his knees without saying a word. It was like nothing around him could affect him in any way—he knelt, just like that, as though he would stay on his knees until the end of time.
The doorbell rang.
“Get up for now. It’s someone from the laundry service.”
Chen Huanyi didn’t move.
Lin Kai’s voice grew frosty. “Do you think you’re defying me?”
Chen Huanyi’s eyes gleamed faintly. “…Master.”
“Take off your clothes and keep on kneeling.”
Without hesitation, Chen Huanyi took off his bathrobe, folding it and placing it next to him. Then he went right back to kneeling.
“Pose.”
Trembling, Chen Huanyi dipped his waist, raised his hips, and pressed his head to the floor. The bed just so happened to block him from view.
He heard the man walk toward the door. He knew he was already hard and couldn’t stop a soft groan from escaping.
“Quiet down.”
Chen Huanyi immediately bit down on his lip.
As he knelt, he had no idea if the lower half of his body would be seen. He only heard the sound of the door opening, followed by some words exchanged between the man and the hotel employee… Terror at the possibility of being discovered stoked his arousal even higher. However, he didn’t dare to actually do anything—he could only hold back the impulse to touch himself with all the strength he could muster.
After shutting the door, the man walked over with Chen Huanyi’s clothes.
Chen Huanyi remained in the same position, an alluring picture at every angle. The pose made his ass look fuller and his waist more slender, and bared his hole in plain sight.
Lin Kai sat down on the couch. “Come over here.”
Chen Huanyi shuffled over to Lin Kai on his knees and then went back into the pose. Lin Kai placed a foot on Chen Huanyi’s back. “Lower.”
Chen Huanyi pressed his torso even closer to the ground, nostrils flaring as his panting breaths grew louder.
“If you happily come a few times over here today, are you going to come to school tomorrow calling me Lin-laoshi and giving me an earful about a teacher’s code of ethics?” Lin Kai’s voice was calm and direct.
Legs trembling slightly, Chen Huanyi vehemently shook his head.
Lin Kai only looked at him without saying anything.
Dipping his head even lower, Chen Huanyi pressed a pious kiss to the top of Lin Kai’s foot.
Lin Kai didn’t move.
Chen Huanyi shuffled over to the couch, used his mouth to pick up the belt from the cushions, and put it down by Lin Kai’s hand.
“I never take back an M who’s already left.”
Chen Huanyi shook his head desperately, his tears landing on Lin Kai’s foot.
“How do you think I’ve made it to today?”
Chen Huanyi shuddered. For some reason, he raised his head slightly to look up at Lin Kai’s face.
He saw Lin Kai’s mouth open to clearly enunciate each and every word. “To you, Chen Huanyi, are my principles… so utterly worthless?”
Chen Huanyi started shaking all over.
Lin Kai took his foot off of Chen Huanyi’s back. He straightened up, took off his bathrobe, and then put on his dress shirt, dress pants, and suit jacket one after another. Finally, he knotted his tie, straightened the clip, and fastened his cufflinks.
He put Chen Huanyi’s clothes next to their still-shaking owner. “Get dressed and go back to school.”
Chen Huanyi trembled without otherwise moving, as though he had lost his hearing entirely. Only his tears continued falling onto the carpet.
Lin Kai quietly waited for another ten minutes. “Housekeeping will come after twelve,” he finally said. “You need to be out before then.”
Laptop in hand, he left.
The moment Lin Kai closed the door, he heard an anguished wail. After standing outside the door for five more seconds, he flipped the placard to “Do Not Disturb.” Then he went downstairs to the lobby, took out his room card, and placed it on the front desk. “Could you add one more night to my stay? No need for housekeeping. Please check out for me automatically tomorrow. Make sure no one is inside before entering the room.”
Nodding, the professional receptionist quickly arranged everything as requested without asking any questions.
[1] QQ: An older instant messaging service.