HL 11

Ying Yusheng had wanted to say something, but in the end, he did not ask any further questions. He obeyed and nodded, retreating to a corner by the wall.

Xu Nanxiao took a deep breath, suppressing the violent agitation in his chest, and walked toward the hysterical Old Liu.

Old Liu had grown thinner again, his eye sockets deeply sunken, with not a trace of his former handsomeness left. He wasn’t holding a banner this time, but his gaze was more piercing than any slogan.

“That Xu is a murderer!!!”

His raspy voice tore through the warm-up rhythm in the training hall. Everyone stopped and looked toward the entrance with curiosity.

“He killed my son! He’s a murderer!” Old Liu stepped forward and shouted at everyone present, “Do you want a murderer to teach you how to box? To teach you how to beat someone to death?!”

Xu Nanxiao’s jaw tightened into a rigid line, his teeth clenched so hard they might crack. He could feel Ying Yusheng’s gaze behind him, like needles stabbing into his spine. Shame mixed with rage surged through his veins.

“Old Liu,” Xu Nanxiao squeezed out the words from the depths of his throat, striding toward him, “What exactly do you want? How many times has it been now? Are you going to haunt me for the rest of your life?”

“What do I want? Hahaha!” Old Liu burst into a fit of laughter. “My son is dead, and you ask what I want? I want you to kneel before my son’s grave and apologize, admit that you’re the same bastard as your murderous father, a son of a bitch! I want you to clear my son’s name! In court, to get a lighter sentence, you claimed my son tried to rape you while you were drunk—how could you even say such a thing?! Are you even a man?! Shameless whore!”

The crowd immediately began whispering among themselves.

His most unbearable past was laid bare in public. A buzzing sound exploded in Xu Nanxiao’s head, and everything before his eyes turned blood red in an instant.

All the grievances and humiliations he had no one to tell, all the hatred toward fate itself, were ignited by this venomous slander.

“Fuck you!!!”

All reason went up in smoke. Consequences, onlookers—he no longer cared about any of it! He just wanted to shut that mouth forever!

Xu Nanxiao lunged forward like an enraged cheetah, moving so fast he left only a blur. He didn’t use any boxing techniques at all—this was pure, unadulterated venting.

A straight punch, no embellishment, slammed into Old Liu’s chest. Old Liu’s body bent backward like a torn sack, his eyes bulging, the air in his lungs forcibly expelled with a short, choked “Ugh” sound.

As he dragged the old man outside, he cursed at the top of his lungs—

“I’m telling you, Liu, your son cracked the back of his head on the ground and died—what the hell does that have to do with me?”

“And even if I did kill him, so what? Your son was a fucking queer—I’d be doing society a favor by getting rid of him!”

“What the hell did I do wrong? I did nothing wrong! It’s his fault! It’s your fault! It’s all your fault!!”

After their figures disappeared beyond the gate, there were cries for help and sobbing at first, but eventually those sounds faded. No one knew which garbage heap Old Liu had been thrown into.

Ten minutes later, Xu Nanxiao came back and found the crowd still gawking. He lowered his head and bellowed, “The fuck are you looking at?! Look again and I’ll kill you all!!!”

The crowd was furious but dared not speak, scattering like startled birds.

Only then did Xu Nanxiao feel his strength drain away, his steps growing unsteady.

Suddenly, he remembered something and looked toward where Ying Yusheng had been standing. In the shadows, Ying Yusheng was still there, a faint smile on his face, perhaps even a hint of… scrutiny behind his glasses?

That gaze was like a cold probe, instantly cooling the fury Xu Nanxiao had just vented, leaving only embarrassment and shame that found nowhere to hide.

But he still steeled himself and walked over. Before he could even open his mouth to tell Ying Yusheng to get lost, his hand was gently cupped by the other man.

He frowned, unsure what this was about.

Ying Yusheng looked at Xu Nanxiao’s swollen fist, then at his face, and asked softly, “Does your hand hurt?”

He froze, and suddenly felt a sting in his nose.

But in the end, he merely pushed Ying Yusheng aside and stumbled through the silent crowd toward the back of the gym.

“I’m tired. Don’t see me out.”

After Ying Yusheng walked out of the boxing club, he was about to leave when he heard a man’s faint groaning from the alley beside him.

He followed the sound and found that Old Liu had indeed been thrown into a garbage heap by Xu Nanxiao.

The place was everywhere oozing with black, foul-smelling acidic water, trickling slowly by Ying Yusheng’s feet. Old Liu lay sprawled on the ground like a puddle of mud, muttering fragmented delirium.

Ying Yusheng didn’t mind the filth. He reached out and pulled him up. Then he took a clean, snow-white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to him.

Old Liu dizzily straightened up, fumbled to take the handkerchief, and wiped the sweat and grime from his face haphazardly.

He heard a gentle, refined male voice say, “Killing a thousand enemies at the cost of twelve hundred of your own—playing the victim is hardly a commendable tactic.”

Once his face was finally clean, Ying Yusheng’s handsome features were fully revealed to Old Liu’s view. Old Liu vaguely recalled that this man had stood beside Xu Nanxiao just now, that he was on Xu Nanxiao’s side.

But at the time, all his attention had been on Xu Nanxiao, so he hadn’t clearly seen his face. Now, narrowing his eyes to study him carefully, he suddenly froze, his entire body trembling slightly.

“Recognized me?” Ying Yusheng asked with a smile, his brows curving gently.

“How could it be you…”

That night, Xu Nanxiao went to a bar for the first time in a while.

A man with bleached-blond hair slung an arm around him and teased, “What’ve you been up to lately? Nowhere to be seen. We were just saying yesterday—are you impotent or something?”

“Get lost, get lost, stop talking nonsense,” Xu Nanxiao impatiently pushed his arm away. “I only came because you said the drinks are free—are they really free?”

None of their crew were good people. But even among these bad eggs, Xu Nanxiao was the most fickle.

He only cared about himself. If you were useful to him, he’d graciously allow you to get close; but if you tried to get too near, he’d kick you away.

That said, Xu Nanxiao knew how to have fun, and if he had money, he was generous. Most importantly, Xu Nanxiao’s top-tier looks could attract plenty of high-quality women for them.

All in all, he was fine as a fair-weather friend.

Sure enough, after only two drinks, three girls came over to chat him up.

When he had a steady bed partner, Xu Nanxiao was afraid they’d make a scene—crying, throwing fits, threatening suicide—such a pain. So he wouldn’t casually mess around with strange women, and he’d pass all these flirts on to his friends.

But after splitting with Liang Qingying, things were different. Xu Nanxiao pretended to drink casually while sizing up one of the girls from the corner of his eye. Her curvaceous figure seemed satisfactory enough, and he figured he wouldn’t be losing out.

So he scooted over, made room for three seats, and bought them three cocktails.

Of course, he put it all on his friend’s tab.

What happened afterward, Xu Nanxiao couldn’t recall at all. The next time he regained consciousness, he was in a sunlit hotel room.

Xu Nanxiao was woken by the sunlight. He groggily looked around—a large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, the room carried the scent of expensive perfume, and a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket on the nightstand was dripping condensation. The sheets beneath him were smooth and cool to the touch, clearly high-end.

He curled up in annoyance, thinking, was he that drunk? Bringing a bar girl to such an expensive hotel—he’d be scraping by for the rest of the month.

But soon, Xu Nanxiao noticed something off about his body.

He vaguely heard a faint buzzing sound coming from under the covers. Then he felt a numbness in his rear, as if he’d almost lost sensation there.

Xu Nanxiao instinctively sat up. In an instant, an ache exploded like fireworks in his brain, and his body went limp. He lay sprawled on the bed in bewilderment, trembling as he fought the urge to lose control of his lower abdomen.

Wait—what was going on?

What had happened to his body?

Xu Nanxiao fumbled awkwardly behind him and found a switch attached to a thin wire, the other end of which was actually inside him!

Xu Nanxiao’s mind felt like it was melting. His heart pounded wildly, almost deafeningly loud. He buried his face in his arms for a moment to recover, then clenched his teeth and yanked the toy out in one go. This was insane! He’d never dreamed that his ass could feel anything!

What had happened last night?

He remembered that he’d been hitting it off with that woman. He’d suggested taking her to a hotel, and she hadn’t refused.

Then what? What happened next?

Was this some weird kink of hers—shoving things up a man’s ass?!

Xu Nanxiao trembled as he threw off the covers—but the sight before him made his vision go black.

His body was covered in hickeys and bite marks, an absolute mess. His full chest and inner thighs were the hardest hit; just brushing against the sheets hurt like hell. There were deep finger-shaped bruises on his thighs, surrounded by a lingering warmth and slight swelling. Just looking at them, you could imagine how hard those fingers had dug in.

By now, even as slow as Xu Nanxiao was, he realized that the person he’d spent the night with wasn’t a woman!

But he couldn’t remember that person’s face! Not a single scene—not a single scene—came with a face!

Shame and fear eventually turned into rage. Xu Nanxiao roared, hurling the pillows and blankets fiercely to the floor, then kicked over the trash can by the bed.

But the next second, he froze in place as if doused with a bucket of ice water.

From the overturned trash can, seven or eight tied-off, used condoms had spilled out. Each one was filled to the brim, bulging like little water balloons.

Xu Nanxiao’s every hair stood on end.

The young woman at the front desk was compiling data on her computer when she suddenly heard the elevator doors chime open.

Then a man strode out briskly and slammed both hands onto the front desk. He was breathing heavily, demanding aggressively, “Show me the registration info for room 2903!”

“What?”

“Room 2903!” Xu Nanxiao could barely control his volume; his whole body was trembling.

“I’m sorry, but we cannot disclose guests’ personal information.” The young woman didn’t know what to do, so she recited the script from her training.

But Xu Nanxiao wouldn’t listen. He asked again, “Room 2903—aside from me, who was the other person?! Show me!”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t look at our computer.” Though she was short, she held her ground. “And there was no other person—room 2903 was registered only under your name.”

Xu Nanxiao couldn’t believe his ears. He stood there stunned.

“Impossible…”

“Last night you were dead drunk. It was your friend who brought you here. Since only you were staying the night, we only logged your information.”

“My friend…” Xu Nanxiao stared blankly and asked numbly, “What did they look like?”

“We didn’t really see clearly either. He was wearing a mask and a hoodie at the time—couldn’t make out his face.”

Though he’d half-expected it, hearing the words “hoodie” made Xu Nanxiao’s legs go weak, and he nearly collapsed.

It was him again!

Him again! Him again! Him again! Him again!

That—lunatic!

Ignoring the young woman calling after him, he fled the hotel as if being chased.

He ran and ran, until his muscles ached and his throat was parched, until his legs felt like lead and wouldn’t move another step. He ran as if he could leave behind the shame, the fear, the pain, and that invisible, untouchable hooded man.

Finally, Xu Nanxiao could run no more. He slowed to a stop and leaned against the wall in a dim, narrow alley to catch his breath.

The sounds around him faded into a blur, as if he were trapped upside down under a glass dome. The lack of oxygen left him dizzy, yet his blood surged and his heart nearly leaped out of his throat.

At that moment, a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder.

Xu Nanxiao let out a terrified yell, flung the hand off violently, and stumbled backward, nearly falling.

But the expected impact with the ground never came—that person caught him.

Ying Yusheng’s brows furrowed slightly, his face full of concern as he asked, “Nanxiao, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”