Chapter 2 Are You Jealous?
The theme of Flowering clothing brand's autumn collection this season is "tiredness".
Zhou Wangchuan had seen magazine covers and large promotional images in shopping malls. In the images, Shang Mu, dressed in a white shirt and a light brown fleece sweater, gazed upward toward a brightly lit area. The nighttime streetlights couldn't illuminate his entire face, leaving it half-lit, half-dark, his emotions concealed. His features were cold and dignified, and amidst the throngs of people and the endless stream of cars, he exuded the weariness of a traveler.
Shang Mu is the designer and exclusive model of the Flowering clothing brand. He knows very well how to show off clothes and his figure. Wearing the autumn clothes he designed, just a few shots can bring out the autumn atmosphere.
After the magazine was published, an entertainment company contacted Shang Mu, hoping he could act in a movie because they thought he had great acting skills. But Zhou Wangchuan knew it had nothing to do with his acting skills; that weariness was something Shang Mu was born with.
——For example, now.
After Shang Mu finished speaking, he lowered his arm and casually flicked the cigarette ash onto the ground: "You're quite punctual."
Zhou Wangchuan walked to the bed and sat down. He took the mint cigarette from his hand and put it out in the ashtray: "I have experience now."
Hearing the self-mockery in his tone, Shang Mu frowned and said, "You promised not to interfere with my hobbies."
"That's not what I meant." Zhou Wangchuan softened his voice and held his cold hand to warm it. "Are you still feeling bad? I'll make you some porridge when I get home."
"Hmm..." Shang Mu blinked and relaxed his back, like a hedgehog retracting its spines. "Aren't you tired after rushing here? Sit down and rest for a while before you go."
His voice was light and soft. Zhou Wangchuan knew he was still feeling uncomfortable, so he reached out and placed his hand on his abdomen through his shirt and asked, "How did you suffer today?"
"First I took two mustard capsules, then used ice, and finally had a fight for a while. I like the pain inside and out at the same time."
Zhou Wangchuan frowned: "Let me palpate you."
He pressed on his upper abdomen first: "Does it hurt?"
"pain."
He pressed another spot: "Here?"
“It hurts, it hurts.”
"Here?"
“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!”
Zhou Wangchuan pressed a few more spots, observing Shang Mu's expression. Seeing that Shang Mu was calm despite his cries of pain, he knew nothing serious was happening. But he was still worried: "Find time to go to the hospital for a checkup. Playing around is fine, but it's not good if you injure your internal organs."
Shang Mu's face instantly turned cold, and he said irritably: "You know I hate hospitals the most! I know my own body well!"
Zhou Wangchuan said calmly: "I just hope you are in good health."
"If you love me, you should respect my choices and preferences instead of scolding me in the name of caring about me."
As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere instantly became cold.
This issue has been debated many times without any conclusion.
Zhou Wangchuan naturally couldn't argue with him at this moment. He simply leaned over and buttoned his shirt for him. He gently stroked his cheek and neck with his knuckles and said soothingly, "Alright."
The hem of the shirt was folded up at one corner, revealing a section of her fair waist and abdomen, as well as red marks left by the beating.
Zhou Wangchuan paused, then helped him straighten his clothes and asked, "Are you feeling better?"
Shang Mu took in his expression: "You know, you are the only one who can touch my belly without gloves."
Zhou Wangchuan knew, of course, that there was a pair of used thin cotton gloves lying on the bedside table, clearly left behind by a previous practice subject. Shang Mu was a mysophobe and always required his subjects to wear gloves during practice.
"But you're unwilling to abuse me." Shang Mu said, "That's why I have to find someone outside to practice with."
He became increasingly agitated as he spoke. "It's so simple—it could have been done right here in my bed, without gloves. But you didn't want to. So now I have to look for someone everywhere, I have to get a hotel room, and I have to wear those damn gloves. They're so rough, can't you see my stomach is rubbed raw? It's all your fault!"
Zhou Wangchuan listened to him vent, sighed helplessly in his heart, put his arms around his shoulders and waist and helped him up: "Be good, it's okay."
Shang Mu took a few quick breaths. His skin was already pale, and now the cold sweat was dripping down, making his face look even paler than paper.
He pushed Zhou Wangchuan away in anger and walked towards the door on his own. After taking two steps, he leaned against the wall and bent over, pressing his fists against his abdomen, and a suppressed groan of pain came from his throat.
Zhou Wangchuan hurried over and half-supported, half-huggled him. Feeling his back was completely soaked with cold sweat, he quickly took off his coat and put it on him: "Go home first."
After getting in the car, Shang Mu leaned against the passenger seat with his arms folded across his chest, closed his eyes and said nothing.
It was the evening rush hour, and cars were stopping and starting on the road. Even through the car windows, I could hear the honking and noise, which made the car so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
Shang Mu opened his eyes halfway and realized that it was not the familiar way home. He immediately said, "I said, I'm not going to the hospital!"
Zhou Wangchuan was driving and turned to look at him: "I didn't go to the hospital."
Shang Mu was silent for a moment, then continued to pick on him: "Are you feeling wronged? Do you always have to be the first to admit your mistakes? Do you think I'm being unreasonable with you?"
Zhou Wangchuan said, "No." He glanced at the left rearview mirror and turned left across the street at the last second of the green light.
Shang Mu sneered: "Do you think you are very patient and tolerant? I know you can't stand me anymore."
Zhou Wangchuan simply stopped talking.
Shang Mu became more and more irritable. The pain made him lose all his rationality, and he said a lot of hurtful words without thinking.
"Why don't you speak? Are you feeling guilty?" he asked angrily at last.
The car just stopped by the roadside. Zhou Wangchuan unbuckled his seat belt, put one knee on the central control panel, leaned over, pressed the back of Shang Mu's neck, and blocked his words with his lips.
"Junior brother." Zhou Wangchuan only gave him a light kiss before letting him go and pointing outside the car, "Turn around and take a look."
"Tingzhu Flower Dessert Shop", the light box is bright, the cartoon characters are shining, and a cute avocado mille-feuille cake stands at the door.
Shang Mu loves desserts, especially after every practice, he feels so uncomfortable that he can't eat anything, but he only loves the desserts from this restaurant.
"Where did I take you to the hospital, huh?" Zhou Wangchuan rubbed the side of his face with his fingertips, "You heartless little bastard."
Shang Mu blinked, and the anger in his heart disappeared in an instant.
"What do you want to eat? I'll go buy it. We can't stay here for too long." Zhou Wangchuan pushed open the car door.
"Hmm." Shang Mu thought for a moment, "Strawberry Thick Milk Thousand Layer."
Zhou Wangchuan got out of the car, holding the door with one hand, and said, "You can also choose a flower."
"Rose." Shang Mu said without hesitation.
The car was parked right in front of the door of the flower dessert shop. Shang Mu looked through the car window and watched Zhou Wangchuan enter the shop. Then he picked up the tray and chose a cake.
Shang Mu slowly and gently loosened his fingers that were gripping the seat belt - when he had just had a one-sided argument with Zhou Wangchuan, his fingers had been tightly gripping the seat belt for too long and with too much force, so when he loosened his grip, his fingers were cramping nervously and the knuckles had turned blue.
At this moment, he looked at the figure in the store from afar and breathed a sigh of relief.
After returning home, Shang Mu casually put the roses in the vase in the entrance hall. While Zhou Wangchuan was serving porridge in the kitchen, he listened to TV and curled up on the sofa to eat strawberry mille-feuille.
Neither of them ever mentioned the quarrel.
After six years together, arguments like today's were commonplace, happening every once in a while. They were both used to it.
Before bed, Zhou Wangchuan stuffed two pills into Shang Mu's mouth and massaged his stomach. The doctor's hands were warm and firm, and Shang Mu found the massage very comfortable. Even after too much liquor, he needed a cup of tea to soothe it. After the afternoon's brutal treatment, the gentle care was like timely help, comforting and soothing. He gradually fell asleep.
At one o'clock in the morning, Zhou Wangchuan looked at the peaceful sleeping face of the person in his arms, gently removed the arm around his waist, and went to the balcony very quietly.
The autumn night breeze was already chilly. He stood in the breeze and lit a cigarette. In the pitch-black night, only the orange flame flickered.
He rarely smokes, only occasionally when he is under great pressure.
Just as three cigarette butts fell at his feet, the balcony door behind him was pushed open, and Shang Mu's sleepy voice came out: "Why aren't you sleeping?"
Zhou Wangchuan turned around and said, "Nothing. Why are you up? Did I wake you up?"
Shang Mu's gaze swept from the cigarette butt on the ground to Zhou Wangchuan's face. Then, he lifted the hem of his pajamas, revealing the red marks on his waist and abdomen: "Still thinking about this?"
His waist and abdomen were beautiful, with a thin layer of inconspicuous muscle, and his mermaid line and waistline were faintly visible as he walked. His skin was cold and pale, and the red marks on his lower abdomen were particularly obvious.
Zhou Wangchuan's gaze paused, then shifted away.
The red marks left by those blows were the marks left by another man on his lover.
The two had been together for six years and were too familiar with each other. So Zhou Wangchuan did not deny it, because it was useless to deny it.
He just said, "Put your clothes down, don't catch a cold."
Shang Mu walked up to him, took the cigarette from between his fingers, took a puff, and then slowly exhaled a puff of smoke.
"Are you jealous?"
"I've told you this, this problem is easily solvable, but you just don't want to." Shang Mu said, "In that case, don't dwell on it anymore."
Zhou Wangchuan remained silent.
Shang Mu tilted his head to look at him: "As long as you promise to torture me, these things will never happen again."
Zhou Wangchuan said: "I am a doctor."
His voice was a little hoarse. He continued, "I've been taught since college to relieve patients' pain. It's my nature. I can't inflict pain on them, especially since you're my love. I want you to be healthy."
A hint of disappointment flashed in Shang Mu's eyes.
"You're jealous, so you come and abuse me. You want to stop being jealous, and you want to stop giving. There's no such thing as a good thing in the world."
Shang Mu said this coldly, threw the cigarette on the ground, stomped it out, and turned to leave the balcony.
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