HL 2

Xu Nanxiao’s first reaction was that he’d misseen. He immediately exited WeChat, opened his photo album, and zoomed in on every photo, scanning them frantically.

No mistake. Absolutely no mistake.

The man in the photos was himself.

He was pinned tightly in the arms of a man in a hoodie, the stranger’s toned forearm bulging with veins—proof of just how much force he was using. Xu Nanxiao was 181 cm, yet the other man was even taller than him, probably around 188 cm, with a lean, built frame.

The man’s face was completely hidden beneath the hood, but Xu Nanxiao was captured in crystal clarity. What he couldn’t stomach most was his own expression—dazed eyes, loosely curled fingers, saliva smeared all over his lips—he looked like he was actually enjoying it.

Enjoying it? With a man?

Xu Nanxiao’s head was ringing. His stomach acid surged instantly, like he’d taken a brutal punch to the gut in the ring, nearly making him throw up. He clutched his abdomen and took a long time to recover.

“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…”

The little brat’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind. Xu Nanxiao thought—could it all be true?

Who was this guy?

What was his relationship to him?

When were these taken?

He gripped his phone tightly. His first instinct was that he’d been picked up while drunk.

But he hadn’t been to a bar in a long time. Besides, his tolerance was decent—surely he wouldn’t be so wasted that he had zero memory of something like this happening?

Xu Nanxiao tried to ignore the strange unease stirring in his chest. His thoughts churned as he swore to find the man in the photo and knock his front teeth out!

To that end, Xu Nanxiao spent his free time visiting every bar he used to frequent. He showed the photo of the hooded man—cropping himself out, of course—to every acquaintance he ran into.

Still, he came up empty every time.

“Never seen him.”
“Don’t know him.”
“No idea.”

Those became the three phrases he heard most that week.

Some fair-weather friends even caught wind of his search and came over, slinging an arm around his shoulder with a laugh: “Heard you’re looking for someone everywhere. What’s the deal? What, did he bang you?”

If it wouldn’t have made him look guilty as hell, Xu Nanxiao would’ve knocked their front teeth out too.

He refused to believe it.

Could a sick pervert just vanish from the face of the earth?

During that time, Xu Nanxiao spent almost every free moment planted in bars, his sharp, predatory gaze sweeping over every man who walked by.

Once you’re there, it looks weird to just drink water. Besides, he’d occasionally run into acquaintances or women hitting on him, so he inevitably ended up having a few drinks.

Today, Xu Nanxiao lost control and drank too much with a bunch of dinner buddies. They eventually headed to the dance floor, leaving him sprawled alone in a corner booth.

He felt his body temperature spike into a feverish stupor. Even with his eyes closed, the room spun, like a ship tossed on waves of blaring electronic noise.

Half-asleep, he felt someone approach.

A cool palm first touched his forehead, then fingertips traced from his brow down his tall nose, over his full cupid’s bow, along his smooth jaw. The hand followed the curve of his neck to his chest, hesitating at the shadow cast by his collar…

But the next second, the position flipped completely—

He’d pinned the other man down on the booth seat.

Xu Nanxiao straddled his waist, one hand twisting the man’s collar so hard it deformed. He looked down at him from above, like a predator staring at a reckless fawn that didn’t know its place.

But as Xu Nanxiao’s vision slowly focused and he recognized the face beneath him, he froze, clicked his tongue, and climbed off.

“Lu Yingjie, what are you doing here?”

The “fawn” seemed startled, a mix of flustered and aggrieved flashing across his face. “I work here, ge. What are you doing here? I saw you lying there and thought you weren’t feeling well.”

“I’ve been a bit on edge lately.” Xu Nanxiao pressed his temples. “I thought you were—”

“Who?”

“…Never mind.” Seeing Lu Yingjie’s worried expression, Xu Nanxiao steadied himself and changed the subject. “You’re still a kid—what are you doing working in a place like this? It’s a den of vipers, not safe. Quit while you can.”

“I’m in college now, ge, you still think I’m a kid? Bars pay well. My parents cut off my allowance, and I’m desperate for money.”

Although Lu Yingjie called Xu Nanxiao “ge,” they weren’t blood-related. They used to live across from each other, and Lu Yingjie’s parents were so busy with work they often didn’t even have time to cook. They’d pay the Xu family to let Lu Yingjie eat over at their place, and that went on for seven or eight years.

Over those years, Lu Yingjie and Xu Nanxiao grew closer than real brothers. Even after Lu’s parents struck it rich and moved to a famous villa district in Beijing, the two never lost touch.

But for some reason, starting in high school, Lu Yingjie’s relationship with his family had always been rocky. He’d run away from home multiple times, and his parents had cut off his allowance more than once. Xu Nanxiao couldn’t figure it out—such a good kid, how could Lu Yingjie keep making his parents so angry?

He said bluntly: “How much do you need? I’ll transfer it.”

“No need. I’m an adult now, I can’t take your money, ge.”

“Why are you being so formal with me?”

“Really, it’s fine. You’re not doing great yourself right now, ge. With what happened back then, aren’t you still drowning in debt?”

In an instant, the cocky grin on Xu Nanxiao’s face vanished. He was speechless, his expression turning heavy.

Originally, the money Xu Nanxiao had made from boxing alone would’ve been enough for several lifetimes of spending. But he’d gotten greedy and signed endorsements worth a hundred million in total. When everything went south, the penalty fees became a mountain of debt.

Knowing he’d accidentally hit a sore spot, Lu Yingjie regretted it immediately. He quickly changed the subject: “How about you treat me to a meal tomorrow, ge? I’m strapped right now and haven’t had meat in ages. How about barbecue?”

Xu Nanxiao laughed despite himself. “Alright. I’ll drive to your school tomorrow morning—”

He stopped mid-sentence, remembering he’d sold his car. He didn’t have one now.

So he amended: “I’ll take a cab to your school tomorrow to pick you up. Save some room for lunch.”

“Got it!” Lu Yingjie grinned.

Lu Yingjie was smart and had always done well in school. He attended P University, one of the nation’s top institutions, majoring in psychology.

Every time Xu Nanxiao went to pick up Lu Yingjie at P University, he felt proud that his brother was so accomplished—it reflected well on him too.

After Lu Yingjie’s class ended, he texted Xu Nanxiao. As usual, Xu Nanxiao waited for him at the base of his dorm building.

As he walked down the long path and caught sight of the dorm entrance, he saw Lu Yingjie already waiting there. But he wasn’t alone—there was a man noticeably older than him standing beside him, speaking to him in a gentle tone.

“Yingjie,” he called out.

Lu Yingjie turned at the sound, his face lighting up with joy, his eyes brightening. Then, remembering he wasn’t alone, he turned back to the man with a hint of embarrassment: “Professor Ying, my ge is here.”

A professor? Huh. Really young. Probably around his age—27 or 28?

“Hello, Professor. I’m Lu Yingjie’s ge,” Xu Nanxiao said politely.

Professor Ying smiled, refined and courteous: “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

This man was less like a professor and more like a model. He was the same height as Lu Yingjie—about 188 cm, by the look of it—and standing between the two of them made Xu Nanxiao feel downright insecure.

His looks leaned toward the gentle type, with delicate features that were striking without being effeminate. He wore silver-rimmed glasses and exuded sophistication.

Still, Xu Nanxiao found something oddly familiar about those eyes, as if he’d seen them somewhere before. It unsettled him, but he couldn’t place it. In the end, he chalked it up to the guy’s vibe—he just seemed like a phony.

Whatever he was pretending to be, he was definitely a phony.

“Professor, you teach psychology?”

“Yes.”

Xu Nanxiao flashed a cocky grin. “So can you tell what I’m thinking right now?”

“Ge!” Lu Yingjie cringed at the amateur question.

“What’s the big deal? He’s a professor, isn’t he?” Xu Nanxiao shrugged it off.

Professor Ying’s warm smile didn’t crack in the slightest. He explained patiently: “I’m afraid psychology is a science, not mind-reading. We study behavior, cognition, and emotion to understand psychological patterns—we can’t directly see what someone is thinking.”

“Oh.” Xu Nanxiao was visibly disappointed. What’s the point of that, he thought—all fluff. Why did Lu Yingjie study this instead of computer science?

“However, I can infer your possible mental state from your micro-expressions—I’d guess that right now, you might be thinking psychology is useless and you don’t understand why Yingjie chose to study it?”

Wait—can psychology actually read minds?

“No, no, of course not!” But Xu Nanxiao denied it on the surface.

At that, Professor Ying glanced at his watch and apologized to the two of them: “I have a seminar to attend soon, so I’ll take my leave.”

Just before leaving, he gave Xu Nanxiao a lingering look, one that hooked onto him like a fishhook, and gave a slight nod. Xu Nanxiao didn’t understand what it meant but nodded back anyway.

It wasn’t until Professor Ying had walked away that Xu Nanxiao snapped out of it and turned to Lu Yingjie. He noticed his brother seemed a little off, eyelids half-lidded.

“What’s wrong?”

“Enjoying the view? You stared for ages.”

Xu Nanxiao didn’t catch the shadow of darkness in Lu Yingjie’s tone. “We’re both men—what’s wrong with looking? Bet a lot of female students throw themselves at him, right?”

“Our school doesn’t allow student-teacher relationships.” Lu Yingjie grew even more sullen. “And why are you asking that question again?”

What did he mean by “again”?

Xu Nanxiao frowned, about to ask for clarification, when his phone rang—a deliveryman calling. Distracted by the conversation, he let the question slip from his mind.