HL 1

“Defendant Xu Nanxiao is found guilty of negligent homicide and sentenced to three years in prison, with a four-year suspended sentence…”

Xu Nanxiao stood in the courtroom enclosure, handcuffed. The verdict slid across his cerebral cortex, barely leaving a trace through the ringing in his ears.

It was over. Completely over.

His strikingly handsome face was etched with dejection, his eyes vacant, layered with wave after wave of disillusionment.

His future, his prospects, his fame, his career…

All ruined by that goddamn faggot.

Three years later.

“Ow ow ow ow, Xu-ge! I was wrong! Ow, ah!”

Amid the boy’s piercing screams, everyone in the gym turned toward the center of the room. Xu Nanxiao’s face was vicious as he pressed the boy’s face flat against the boxing ring, twisting his arm upward at an unnatural angle, prompting another round of crying and wailing.

Manager Wang couldn’t watch any longer. He rushed over and pulled them apart, cursing under his breath: “For Christ’s sake, Nanxiao, what are you doing now?”

Xu Nanxiao was like a caged beast, his eyes bloodshot. Blocked by Manager Wang’s sturdy frame, he still tried to lunge forward.

He gritted his teeth and snarled: “Ask him. Ask this little shit what he did.”

The boy shrank back guiltily, rubbing his wrist, and muttered: “I just wanted to get close to Coach…”

“Say that again and see what happens?!”

Seeing Xu Nanxiao lunge forward again, poised to kick the boy’s ass, Manager Wang blocked him more forcefully and gave him a hard shove that sent him stumbling back.

“That’s enough!”

Xu Nanxiao had strikingly handsome features—sharp, clean eyelid creases without a trace of excess, a tall straight nose with tight nostrils, and thin lips that curved slightly downward when he wasn’t smiling.

When silent, he looked like nothing but a cold, handsome man—who would have guessed his temper was this explosive.

“What exactly did he do?” Manager Wang asked Xu Nanxiao.

Xu Nanxiao was still seething, but Manager Wang’s question struck him dumb.

What was he supposed to say? That this little punk had grabbed his ass during training? How was he supposed to save face after that?

Xu Nanxiao couldn’t bring himself to say it. His ears turned bright red from holding back, and his teeth ground together audibly. In the end, he decided to swallow his pride and choke it down. Before leaving, he still made sure to throw out a threat: “Don’t ever ask me to spar with you again. I see you, I beat you.”

With that, he turned and strode off.

Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.

Just thinking about those hands on his ass made Xu Nanxiao want to vomit. He cursed under his breath, wondering why the homosexuals of this world just wouldn’t die off.

He couldn’t calm down, so he headed straight for the shower room, figuring he’d wash himself clean.

The bathroom was thick with steam. The warm water enveloped him gently, soothing Xu Nanxiao’s fury. He cooled down considerably, dried off with a towel, wrapped one loosely around his waist, and strode into the locker room on his long legs to get dressed.

But just as he reached the door, he heard faint voices from inside—including that little brat from this morning.

“Tell me, did your little head take over your big head? Actually grabbing Coach Xu’s ass? Haven’t you heard that saying? A tiger’s ass is not to be touched,” someone teased.

“Ballsy move, man. I don’t respect anyone but you.”

“I don’t get gay guys. What’s so great about Xu Nanxiao? Besides that face, he’s got nothing.”

“I—he bought me breakfast several times. I thought he was into me,” the little brat whined.

“Who? Xu Nanxiao?” A chorus of sharp intakes of breath came from inside. “Dude, are you out of your mind?”

“How could he be gay? Have you forgotten what happened around the Golden Belt?”

“What Golden Belt?”

“You don’t know? You actually don’t know? And you call yourself a boxer? Back in the day, Xu Nanxiao was the boxing king. Just his appearance fee alone was a few million per match. Then he killed his opponent in a quarter-final match and got a lifetime ban, eventually ending up here as a coach.”

“And the one who died just so happened to be the big boss’s illegitimate son. After that, no club of any decent size dared to take him.”

“I know that part, but that was an accident, wasn’t it? What does that have to do with his sexuality?”

“Accident? If it was an accident, why’d he get three years? Let me tell you…” The voice dropped to a whisper. “It was definitely murder. That dead guy had once made a move on Xu Nanxiao when he was drunk—if someone hadn’t walked by, our Coach Xu would have been broken in.”

The locker room erupted in snickers from the young guys, and Xu Nanxiao’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles cracked.

“So during the match, Xu Nanxiao beat the hell out of his opponent and killed him…”

“No way.” The little brat suddenly cut through the chatter, speaking with conviction. “I saw it with my own eyes—Coach Xu kissing a guy in an alley. He’s definitely gay.”

The locker room fell silent for a few seconds, then burst into roaring laughter.

“Hahahaha, no way, seriously?”

“Is he a closet case? Oh man, he acts so straight.”

“You must have misseen! Xu Nanxiao? Xu Nanxiao?”

“How could I have misseen? That day, I’d just finished dinner with a friend and was heading home. I passed by an alley and saw Coach Xu with a guy in a hoodie…”

Before he could finish, the locker room door was kicked open. The iron door slammed hard against the wall, bounced back with a loud clang, and kept vibrating.

Xu Nanxiao’s face was dark, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line—he looked like he’d killed someone.

Wait—he actually had!

Under everyone’s terrified gazes, Xu Nanxiao walked to his locker and calmly put on his T-shirt and pants. Then he closed the locker door, paused for a moment, and—thinking about it more made him angrier—suddenly lunged at the little brat without warning.

The trainees screamed in panic, scrambling to pull the coach and their peer apart.

When Xu Nanxiao had overheard the trainees badmouthing him outside, he let it slide because they were young. But when he heard that little brat spreading filthy lies about him, he’d finally had enough.

An alley. A guy in a hoodie. The story was so detailed it could’ve been scripted.

He’d been straighter than a load-bearing beam since the day he was born. The idea of him kissing a man was just flat-out impossible.

Xu Nanxiao was still stewing over the whole chain of events that day when his phone buzzed with a message from his female partner, Liang Qingying: Meet tonight?

“Meet” meant a night together.

Xu Nanxiao had a strong sex drive, but going out to hook up every time was too much hassle, and hiring prostitutes was unclean. Liang Qingying was his regular partner. As for whether she had anyone else on the side—he wasn’t interested and didn’t care.

Xu Nanxiao had initially wanted to refuse, but after a moment’s thought, he replied: Okay.

Every time Liang Qingying entered Xu Nanxiao’s rented apartment, she couldn’t help but frown. The walls of the old, crumbling unit were shedding plaster dust, covered in tacky flyers. The hallway was already narrow and cluttered with discarded bicycles and cardboard boxes—just walking through left you covered in dust.

After a grueling climb to the fourth floor, she found that Xu Nanxiao had left the door unlocked for her. Pushing it open revealed a different world inside. Xu Nanxiao had renovated the interior; for a single man, the place was impeccably simple and clean.

“You’re here?” Xu Nanxiao was sitting on the windowsill smoking. Seeing her arrive, he reached over and pushed the window open to air out the smell. “Sit anywhere.”

Though he said “sit anywhere,” the tiny room only had the bed.

Liang Qingying placed her Gucci bag on the nightstand, took off her coat, and flopped onto the bed. The bedding actually smelled pretty nice. She lay there on her stomach for a while, then propped herself up on her elbows, chin in her hands, and studied Xu Nanxiao.

Xu Nanxiao was bare-chested, one leg bent, sitting on the windowsill, smoking and gazing out the window. Liang Qingying had to admit—Xu Nanxiao was contemptible, yet undeniably beautiful.

He was the best-built man she’d ever seen: broad shoulders, narrow waist, long straight legs. His skin was fair, the kind that never tanned. Because he trained in boxing, his muscles were firm yet not overdone, lean and graceful as a cheetah.

But Xu Nanxiao never talked about his family or his past, and rarely even mentioned his daily life. So despite knowing him for over a year, Liang Qingying still knew very little about him.

A whole year, huh…

Since Xu Nanxiao hadn’t found anyone else in all that time, he must be pretty satisfied with her, right?

At the thought, Liang Qingying’s cheeks grew warm. She twirled a strand of her chestnut hair around her finger, cleared her throat lightly, and ventured: “Xu Nanxiao, have you ever… thought about settling down?”

“What do you mean?” Xu Nanxiao frowned slightly.

“You know, finding a girlfriend, dating, getting married, having kids, that sort of thing.” Liang Qingying cleared her throat again. “Why don’t we just make do with each other? I have money, and you wouldn’t have to keep being a—”

She looked up and suddenly froze, her heart sinking.

Xu Nanxiao was staring at her with a baffled, you-must-be-kidding look.

“We agreed before we got together—no feelings, no future. If you’re not thinking straight today, go home, and we’ll meet again when you’re back to normal.” He turned his head coldly toward the window.

Liang Qingying bit her lip, humiliated. Flushed with anger, she shot back: “We’re not getting any younger. Do you really want to go on like this forever? Don’t you want someone who truly understands you? Someone you can open your heart to?”

“I don’t need that. I don’t have all this drama.” Xu Nanxiao stubbed out his cigarette with a scoff. “Looks like we’re not on the same page. Let’s part ways amicably.”

That finally pushed Liang Qingying over the edge. Her eyes reddened, and she grabbed a pillow off the bed, hurling it at Xu Nanxiao with all her strength.

Next came the backrest, her coat, her bag… When she reached for the lamp on the nightstand, Xu Nanxiao, who’d remained silent throughout, finally shot her a fierce glance. She flinched and put the lamp back down.

But Liang Qingying’s anger still burned. She grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand and hurled it at Xu Nanxiao’s head: “Get out, you man-whore!”

Xu Nanxiao caught the remote in one hand, his eyes full of impatience. “This is my place. You’re the one who should get out, dumbass.”

After Liang Qingying stormed off without looking back, Xu Nanxiao rubbed his face and lay flat on the bed.

He found he really didn’t understand women. They always conflated sex and love, as if doing it enough times would inevitably create something more. He’d thought Liang Qingying was perceptive enough to know better—but apparently, she was no different.

Xu Nanxiao wasn’t like that.

For him, sex was just release. It meant nothing else, and it never would.

He didn’t need love. Not that bullshit.

So no one—absolutely no one—was going to tie him down with something so pointless.

“…”

Xu Nanxiao had already been disgusted by the faggots earlier. He’d been trying to take his mind off it when his partner inexplicably broke things off with him, leaving him in an absolutely foul mood.

In a fit of pique, he pulled out his phone, figuring he might as well delete her contact info since they’d broken up.

He’d also change the couple avatar Liang Qingying had forced him to use—he’d hated that red pig in the picture for ages anyway. What was it called, GGbang?

He tapped open his WeChat profile, opened the photo album, and was about to pick a random selfie to upload when he suddenly spotted several unfamiliar photos in the thumbnails.

Xu Nanxiao’s sharp brows furrowed. He looked closer—and abruptly choked on his own breath—

These… these were photos of himself kissing a man?!