HL 37

Xu Nanxiao was in a bad mood, and it made everyone at the club walk on eggshells.

As he was about to leave work, Qiao Yuanlong saw Xu Nanxiao changing clothes and couldn’t help asking, “Boss, not staying in the office tonight?”

Xu Nanxiao’s face immediately darkened, startling Qiao Yuanlong so much that he silently cursed himself for meddling.

“Mm,” Xu Nanxiao muttered in response.

Last night, Xu Nanxiao had told himself he was going back because there were still three months left on the rent—but did he really care about that rent now?

Since he didn’t care, why go back and live with some queer?

Xu Nanxiao opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself, but in the end he clenched his jaw and said nothing.

Standing outside the front door, Xu Nanxiao pulled out his keys and hesitated for a moment before unlocking the door.

He was mentally preparing himself—whether to pretend he hadn’t seen Ying Yusheng or to snap at him. But the moment he pushed the door open, the first thing that hit him was a burnt smell, followed by thick smoke that made him cough uncontrollably.

Just as Xu Nanxiao was about to think the house was on fire, Ying Yusheng poked his head out from the kitchen, looking a bit embarrassed. “You’re back?”

Seeing that Ying Yusheng was fine, Xu Nanxiao unconsciously let out a breath of relief. Then he fanned the air in front of his nose and grumbled, “What are you doing?”

“The housekeeper suddenly felt unwell and took the day off. All the ingredients were already prepped, so I thought I’d give cooking a try.”

Xu Nanxiao walked over to the kitchen and glanced at the blackened mess in the pot. “So you made charcoal?”

Ying Yusheng, thin-skinned as he was, visibly flushed: “I usually watch you guys cook and it doesn’t seem hard. I didn’t expect…”

Xu Nanxiao frowned, rolled up his sleeves to reveal a stretch of well-defined forearm, turned on the exhaust fan, and pushed open the kitchen window.

“If you don’t know how to cook, just wait for me to get back. Don’t make a mess.”

“But you get off work late. I thought you’d be hungry by the time you got home. I wanted you to have a hot meal right away.”

Hearing that, Xu Nanxiao’s hand paused mid-motion as he pushed the window.

He bit the inside of his cheek with his canine, forcing down the chaotic emotions before speaking: “It’s too late to start over now. Let’s just eat out.”

“Okay,” Ying Yusheng smiled. “How about the noodle place downstairs?”

About a kilometer from home was a small noodle shop—a neat, square classical building with a quiet and elegant decor. They specialized in Su-style noodles, thin and chewy, with a rich, flavorful broth.

Before, when the housekeeper was off and Xu Nanxiao didn’t feel like cooking, the two of them would come here.

It was already late, and Xu Nanxiao was starving. Once the food arrived, he didn’t even look at Ying Yusheng; he just picked up his chopsticks and started slurping his noodles.

Even though he wasn’t looking at Ying Yusheng, Xu Nanxiao could feel that the other hadn’t picked up his chopsticks. His gaze was fixed on him, boring into him and making his blood simmer.

And just then, Ying Yusheng suddenly reached out and touched the spot behind Xu Nanxiao’s ear.

The sensation of those fingers was like a drop of thick ink into clear water—a tingling numbness spread with alarming speed, racing up his spine. The back of his head went numb, his scalp tightening.

After registering what had happened, Xu Nanxiao choked violently. He slapped Ying Yusheng’s hand away, coughing while grabbing a couple of tissues to wipe his mouth.

“What?”

“You had a hair on your neck.” Ying Yusheng looked at his palm, his gaze dark and thoughtful. “Mm… a woman’s hair.”

“Bullshit.” Xu Nanxiao’s heart suddenly raced with inexplicable panic. He hadn’t been around any women lately, so he immediately grabbed Ying Yusheng’s wrist and pulled it over to look.

But in Ying Yusheng’s hand, there was only a short strand of hair—clearly Xu Nanxiao’s own.

He’d been had…

Xu Nanxiao looked up and sure enough saw Ying Yusheng’s cheerful, meaningful smile.

“Psycho.” Xu Nanxiao gave Ying Yusheng a hard shove and gritted his teeth as he lowered his head to eat his noodles.

“Haha, just joking. How could I not trust you?”

Ying Yusheng really was a genius at getting under his skin. Xu Nanxiao said impatiently, “Don’t flatter yourself. What are you to me that I’d care whether you trust me? I’m going to hit the bars and pick up chicks tonight, so stay out of my way.”

Ying Yusheng just smiled and said nothing.

Xu Nanxiao couldn’t be bothered to argue, so he went back to eating. But as he ate, someone tapped his shoulder again.

“Ying Yusheng, are you ever going to—”

But when he looked up, it wasn’t Ying Yusheng who’d tapped him—it was a middle-aged man in his forties. Upon getting a clear look at Xu Nanxiao’s face, his eyes lit up and he said excitedly, “Well, if it isn’t Nan Xiao. Long time no see.”

After the man insisted repeatedly, he sat down across from Ying Yusheng and Xu Nanxiao.

Xu Nanxiao pretended to focus on his noodles, but he kept sneaking glances at him.

This man was Wu Xizhao, a professional boxer agent. Back in the day, he had greatly admired Xu Nanxiao and had offered him multiple opportunities, all of which Xu Nanxiao had turned down.

This time, he’d expected the man to kick him while he was down, but Wu Xizhao remained smiling throughout, and didn’t seem like that at all.

“Alright, that’ll be all for me, thanks,” he said politely to the server as he ordered, then turned back to Xu Nanxiao with a friendly smile. “How many years has it been since we last saw each other? After that incident, you disappeared completely. What are you up to now?”

“I opened my own boxing club,” Xu Nanxiao said casually.

“That’s great. Are the coaches your old acquaintances?”

“No, I hired new people.”

“How’s business? How much do you make in a month?”

Xu Nanxiao didn’t answer; he just lifted his eyelids and gave him a look.

Wu Xizhao quickly explained: “I’m not trying to pry into your private affairs… I…”

Finally, he let out a long sigh and tucked the stray strands of hair from his forehead behind his ear.

“Forget it. I’ll be straight with you. Nan Xiao, are you satisfied with your current job? If not, would you consider signing with me and getting back into the ring?”

“You forgot,” Xu Nanxiao said flatly, biting into a sausage. “I accidentally killed someone. I’m banned for life.”

“Not official matches—the boxing association has no jurisdiction over this. It’s commercial fights.”

“…Underground fights?”

“Something like that. These are matches put on by wealthy people, with big names participating. They do get pretty brutal though. The pay is substantial—I can give you this much.” Wu Xizhao held up four fingers.

“Four hundred thousand?”

“Hahahaha, Nan Xiao, have you gotten so used to being poor? What’s four hundred thousand good for? Four million!”

Wu Xizhao was certain that this money would be a lifesaver for Xu Nanxiao and that he’d accept it with gratitude. But Xu Nanxiao just kept his head down eating noodles, and even his friend beside him only smiled quietly, with no particular reaction.

“Nan Xiao, this is four million! I know you were impressive back in the day, but that was then. You’ve been away for years—it’s hard to say how good you still are. Four million is really not a small sum.”

Xu Nanxiao tapped the table with his knuckles. “Wu Ge, do you think that four million is easy money? These are underground fights—people die and nothing happens. Remember that guy under you who retired and did one underground match? His spine was broken, and he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair.”

Wu Xizhao laughed awkwardly twice: “That won’t happen to you. You’re so strong—no one could beat you back then.”

Seeing Xu Nanxiao unmoved, Wu Xizhao tried again persuasively: “And besides, you’ve always loved the ring. This is your golden chance to return. Miss this opportunity and it’s gone.”

“Loved the ring? I loved the money!” Xu Nanxiao raised a sharp brow and enunciated each word. “Otherwise, the thing I hate most in this world is boxing matches.”

With that, Wu Xizhao didn’t push any further. Before leaving, he gave Xu Nanxiao a business card, saying he could come find him anytime if he changed his mind.

Even though he’d turned Wu Xizhao down, on the way home Xu Nanxiao kept staring at the card, lost in thought.

Ying Yusheng glanced at him, then looked ahead and turned the steering wheel.

Ying Yusheng suddenly asked, “When you said you hate boxing matches—did you really mean it?”

Xu Nanxiao put the card away. “Yeah. Why?”

“No, just surprised. You were China’s number one lightweight boxer back then. It’s hard to imagine hating something so much yet working so hard at it.”

Xu Nanxiao didn’t answer directly, but said, “Ying Yusheng, have you ever watched a boxing match?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen a bit.”

“A bunch of people paying to watch two men beat each other up in an octagon. Up there, we’re like two dogs with our tails cut off. The harder we fight, the louder they cheer…”

“You throw a punch, and it lands on flesh—thud, thud. That sound is familiar. Take a hit to the ribs, and you can’t breathe. You throw one back, and the other guy’s mouthguard flies off, his face twisted…”

Xu Nanxiao sank into memory.

“Whenever that happened, I’d think: I left home to make a living so I could escape that old beast, but in the end, I became just like him—settling things with my fists. Every punch I threw, every opponent I knocked down, that insane dopamine rush from violence—it all made me feel more and more like him.”

“And sure enough, in the end, we both killed people. I didn’t even know killing could be hereditary.”

Xu Nanxiao had spent his entire life fighting against his bastard father, only to become the most refined copy of him. Was there anything more ironic than that?

Ying Yusheng carefully chose his words: “Why did you choose boxing in the first place? If you didn’t like it, why put so much effort into it?”

“Because it’s the only thing I’m good at.” Xu Nanxiao’s index finger slid back and forth over the business card, feeling the rough edges gently scrape against his fingertip. “Only when I’m boxing do they need me.”

After saying that, he looked at the card again.

But Ying Yusheng said calmly, “You don’t need to go back to fighting the matches you hate most now.”

Xu Nanxiao looked at him in confusion.

“You have your own club. Everyone depends on you for their livelihood. Decisions need your approval. Your students need you to teach them. And as for me—” Ying Yusheng’s voice softened, “I need you even more. No one else to eat with, watch movies with, chat with, play games with, go to exhibitions with… I’d be very lonely.”

Xu Nanxiao was silent for a long moment before finally speaking: “Your talent for saying such sappy things without blinking is something else—there’s no second person like you in the world.”

“Haha, is that so?” Ying Yusheng said lightly. “I think if you have something to say, you should say it.”

Xu Nanxiao let out a snort of air through his nose, crumpled the business card into a ball, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Yes, he no longer needed to find his value through boxing matches. And who had brought about all this change?

Xu Nanxiao finally relaxed his body in surrender.

At this moment, he let it go.

Yes, someone like Ying Yusheng—he would never meet a second one.

The next day, when he got home, Xu Nanxiao placed his sports duffel bag on the shoe rack. He’d been thinking it over all day and decided to talk with Ying Yusheng over dinner.

Ying Yusheng had texted him, saying he needed to finish the annual progress report for a national key R&D project and might be back late.

So Xu Nanxiao did what Ying Yusheng usually did—he took the food the housekeeper had left and heated it up in the microwave, so it would be ready when the other got home.

Xu Nanxiao had just taken the milk out of the fridge when there was a knock at the door.

It’s not that late, he thought, calling out as he shuffled in his slippers to open the door. But when the door swung open, the visitor wasn’t Ying Yusheng—it was Zhou Yu, whom he’d seen before.

“Why are you here?” Zhou Yu’s eyes went wide in surprise.

I should be the one asking you that—how do you know Ying Yusheng’s address.

But odds were that Ying Yusheng had told him himself. Xu Nanxiao hadn’t expected their relationship to have become this close already.

“Xiao… Ge, right? Do you live here?” Without waiting for Xu Nanxiao to invite him in, Zhou Yu walked in on his own, looking around curiously.

“Yeah,” Xu Nanxiao said, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, replying coolly. “Ying Yusheng’s not here. Need something?”

“If he’s not here, no big deal. I came to pick something up. Just let Sheng Ge know I stopped by.”

With that, he walked straight toward Xu Nanxiao’s room. Xu Nanxiao paused for a moment, then quickly caught up in a few strides and said loudly, “Why are you going into my room?”

“My things are in there.”

Xu Nanxiao’s eyes widened as he tried to process that. Before he could react, Zhou Yu said, “It’s under this bed. Can I get it myself?”

Xu Nanxiao didn’t answer, so Zhou Yu took it as consent. He crouched down and pulled open the drawer under Xu Nanxiao’s bed. Sure enough, there was a black handbag inside.

Xu Nanxiao had always assumed it belonged to Ying Yusheng, so he’d never opened it.

“Great, this is it.” After saying that, Zhou Yu took the bag and prepared to leave, only to find Xu Nanxiao still leaning against the doorframe, showing no sign of moving.

“How did you know the bag was there?”

“Because I used to live in this room,” Zhou Yu said with a faint smile. “This used to be mine and Sheng Ge’s home.”