Chapter 2: I’m Going Up the Mountain Tonight
The “eighteen bends” of the mountain road in Fugui Village, Huangni Town, were no joke. The constant winding and turning left Chi Wu dizzy and drowsy. After an hour of smooth driving, the yellow bus began a gentle climb, stopping sporadically to let people on and off.
“Wubao, you get carsick?” Zhang Chulan woke from a nap to find Chi Wu’s eyebrows knitted tightly in discomfort.
He fumbled around in his pockets, pulling out a wrinkled plastic bag and quickly unfolding it. “Gonna puke?”
The second Chi Wu lowered his head, he threw up. Even after he’d emptied his stomach of lunch, he was still dry-heaving.
“Where’d you get the bag?”
“Left over from the youtiao I bought this morning…” Zhang Chulan made a sound, “Ei,” swallowing the word “delicate” before he could say it. He tied the bag off and tossed it into the nearby trash bin.
He cupped Chi Wu’s head and guided it onto his own shoulder, shifting his position to let him lean more comfortably. The moment he felt the qi in his dantian surge, his tone immediately became much more solicitous.
“Wubao, still feel sick?”
“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?” Chi Wu lifted his head from Zhang Chulan’s shoulder and rested his forehead against the seat in front of them, as if in silent protest.
“I’m a guy.”
“Guys can’t be called ‘baby’? Didn’t everyone at the orphanage call you that?” Zhang Chulan’s tone turned a bit sour. “Everyone else gets to, so why can’t I?”
Chi Wu thought to himself that the orphanage was ages ago. He’d corrected people thousands, if not tens of thousands, of times since then. This childhood friend of his was the type who only remembered the good and forgot the bad; he’d been trying to correct him for ages, but it never stuck.
Chi Wu felt too sick to waste his breath arguing.
“Fine. Whatever.”
Chi Wu’s light chestnut hair had gotten a bit darker and longer. It was currently brushing against the back of his slender neck.
Zhang Chulan’s eyes fixed on it for a long moment before, on impulse, he reached out to brush the strands aside.
“What are you doing?” Chi Wu turned his head to stare at him. His glassy, unblinking eyes were like a calm water surface, but tears from his dry-heaving welled at the corners, making Zhang Chulan’s heart skip.
“Wubao, how long has it been since you cut your hair? Isn’t it hot, sweeping against your neck like that?” Zhang Chulan remarked with feigned casualness.
“Too lazy.”
Even though Chi Wu had only said two words, Zhang Chulan knew exactly what “too lazy” implied.
“I’ll cut it for you after we’re done with my grandpa’s situation.”
He reached out again, massaging Chi Wu’s temples.
“Better?”
“Don’t,” Chi Wu brushed his hand away, bending over to rest his head again. “Go back to sleep. Don’t worry about me.”
Zhang Chulan tsked. “If I don’t look after you, who will?”
If the timing and place weren’t so off, he would have just pulled Chi Wu into his arms.
Chi Wu really was a treasure. He smelled good, was soft to hold, and the closer Zhang Chulan got, the faster his own cultivation increased. His luck improved, too. Zhang Chulan had gained too much from this sort of “intimate interaction” to ever let it go.
The gentle, steady pressure on his temples did seem to relieve Chi Wu’s headache, but it also kept him from drifting off to sleep. It was a strange contradiction.
The ayi (auntie) in the adjacent seat watched them for a while before nudging her husband.
“Look at that. That student is more caring than you’ll ever be…”
“Aiyo, but it’s two guys,” the uncle grumbled, glancing over. “How can you compare that?”
The ayi didn’t see the problem. “It’s still an intimate relationship, isn’t it? Positive interaction is what keeps a bond strong.”
“I think you…” The uncle received a sharp glare, rubbed his nose, and shut up.
Zhang Chulan’s hand stiffened for a split second when the ayi spoke, but he immediately resumed the massage as if nothing had happened. He’d heard this kind of teasing so often he was somewhat affected by it. That image of Chi Wu with tears welling at the corners of his eyes was still replaying in his mind.
Thankfully, his self-control was solid. Besides, the main issue was that Chi Wu was just so androgynous. Back at the orphanage, people used to call him “Princess.” And anyway, at their age, it was easy to get… a reaction.
It was fine. He, Zhang Chulan, was a stand-up guy! A hundred percent straight!
The bus lurched to a stop. Chi Wu’s head pitched forward, but Zhang Chulan’s arm shot out, bracing him and saving his neck from whiplash.
Chi Wu looked up, his face pale and wilted like a daisy scorched by the sun. He weakly patted the arm braced against his chest.
“How much longer?”
Zhang Chulan craned his neck to look outside, estimating the time. “About three more minutes.”
“Okay, good.” Chi Wu looked out the window, seeing the rolling hills and shallow streams. Houses dotted the landscape, and he could hear the occasional chicken clucking or dog barking.
Zhang Chulan cracked the window open. A clean, fragrant scent of burning straw wafted in. He put a hand on the back of Chi Wu’s neck, turning his head as if desperate for approval.
“What do you think? The air’s great, right?”
“It’s nice.” The dry, gentle smell of burning straw cleared Chi Wu’s head a little. “I like it a lot.”
Zhang Chulan finally let out a breath of relief. “Good, as long as you like it.”
“Is it important whether I like it?” Chi Wu was confused by Zhang Chulan’s relieved sigh.
“Of course,” Zhang Chulan answered as if it were obvious. “You’re my most important friend.”
Chi Wu rolled his eyes. Most important friend? As if he didn’t know this guy was always selling his class notes for cash. So petty. Besides, they had almost completely drifted apart during those three years of middle school when they weren’t in the same class. Afterward, Zhang Chulan had come back, clinging to him even more aggressively. To this day, Chi Wu still didn’t know why.
“We’re here, grab your things!” The driver stood up, stretched his back, and then started twisting side-to-side, stretching his muscles like no one was watching.
Zhang Chulan unbuckled Chi Wu’s seatbelt before undoing his own.
The moment they stepped off the bus, a wave of heat hit them. Chi Wu couldn’t help but tug at the shirt clinging to his lower back, revealing a small patch of pale skin.
Zhang Chulan glanced over, his expression a little strange. “Wubao, you really hot?”
“Yeah…” Chi Wu kept tugging his shirt. The breeze his movements captured cooled him a little, but it was like a cup of water in the desert—not nearly enough.
“Let’s go.” Zhang Chulan grabbed Chi Wu’s wrist and headed for the police station. “I’ll take you to find some shade.”
Both sides of the street were lined with all kinds of general stores, selling food and supplies. Stalls were set up in front of the shops, leaving only a wide path in the middle. Every few steps, someone would call out a greeting to Zhang Chulan. When they looked at Chi Wu in confusion, he would quickly drag him away, as if hiding a treasure.
After about 200 meters, Zhang Chulan led him down a left turn. In front of them was an old white-brick, red-tile school building. To the left of it was a police station.
Zhang Chulan led him into the lobby and poured him a cup of water from a dispenser. “Wubao, wait here for me…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Uncle Song pushed open a door and walked out.
“How’d you get here today?” Uncle Song looked surprised, glancing at his watch. “Catch the last bus?”
“Yep.” Zhang Chulan offered Uncle Song a cigarette, then impatiently dove in. “Uncle, you gotta tell me, what’s really going on? My grandpa’s grave, and this sister who just popped out of nowhere?”
Uncle Song’s gaze shifted to Chi Wu. Zhang Chulan finally seemed to remember his manners. “Wubao, this is Uncle Song.”
“Uncle Song, this is my best bud, Chi Wu.”
Chi Wu stood up and gave Uncle Song a small smile. “Hello, Uncle Song.”
“Hello.” Uncle Song tucked the cigarette behind his ear. Considering Zhang Chulan had called the boy “Wubao,” he decided not to ask him to step out. He turned back to Zhang Chulan, his expression more serious than ever.
“Your grandfather’s body was, in fact, stolen. As for this sister of yours, I made some calls. Couldn’t find anything. Right now, it’s just that girl’s side of the story. You should trust your dad.”
Zhang Chulan pursed his lips. “We’re both men. How do you expect me to believe him?”
“Then think about it. With your dad’s ‘straight-guy’ mindset, who besides your mom could even put up with him?”
“That’s true.” Zhang Chulan swallowed the bitter feeling rising in his chest.
“Don’t overthink it.” Uncle Song patted Zhang Chulan’s shoulder. “It’s getting dark. Go home and rest for now. I’ll go up the mountain with you tomorrow.”
Zhang Chulan thought to himself, Yeah, right. I’m going up the mountain tonight to see which bastard is looking to die.
Zhang Chulan refused Uncle Song’s invitation for dinner and led Chi Wu in the direction of home.
Recommended Reads
![Does A Broken Mirror Reunion Exist in Esports? [Esports]](https://beereads.space/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/esports-225x300.png)
