Some people are their own worst enemy.
Ask anyone who knows Wei Qing who his nemesis is. Some will name his brother, some the morals enforcement branch of the police, but those who really know him can answer clearly:
“Wei Qing’s greatest enemy is Wei Qing.”
Dozens of citations, countless embarrassing blog posts, an entire yearbook of love-em-and-leave-em bedmates can testify to his special ability to fuck his own life up. It’s not a unique talent, especially amongst his rich second-generation peers, but Wei Qing- Wei Qing elevates self-sabotage to an art form, creating obstacles and regrets where none should naturally exist.
The party, and what happens after it ends, prove that these instincts aren’t completely gone. Not even in the new, good him. It starts when one cocktail turns to two, and a bottle of wine gets opened at home. He’s just really happy, and therefore totally not on-guard against the real villain:
Himself.
—
Yue Fei had also made some miscalculations, for things to devolve to this point. Wei Qing is still his master, still an adult, still allowed to partake of perfectly-legal brain-altering substances in the safety of his own home. That’s what Yue Fei had told himself, as he watched those brightly-colored drinks disappear into that silly mouth, and as he’d uncorked the wine that Wei Qing had excitedly begged for. His only restriction had been making the laughing young man use a glass instead of drinking straight from the bottle.
He wanted to spoil him, at least a little bit.
To celebrate.
And shouldn’t he be allowed that? Whatever the hell that had been in the bathroom notwithstanding, he’d really been very good. Exceeded Yue Fei’s expectations. Had comported himself well, and even occasionally seemed to have fun doing it. That was worth celebrating. And it’s not like he could get into any real trouble drunk at home.
That’s what Yue Fei had used to justify this.
And now, not an hour after making concessions for the night’s success…
Wei Qing was straddling him, pressing down with his body and mouth in a Very. Bad. Development.
—
It’s not appropriate to call Wei Qing a lightweight or a lush.
He can drink a lot, it’s true– but he also feels it quickly, and with his whole body. He’s one of those sneaky drunks, who walks steadily and smiles happily, his inhibitions leaving him long before his coordination. He can speak clearly and dance well even as the last bit of civilization flakes from his shoulders and he gives in to whatever and whoever he wants. It makes him very fun to party with, and very annoying to clean up after.
Yue Fei should have remembered this, but… well, it had been a while since he’d seen his master drunk. In this life, or the last one.
So when Wei Qing had been charming and sweet and only a little coquettish, Yue Fei had not taken particular note of it, only to think that this kind of Wei Qing was really better than the sloshy mess he could become, when drugs were added to his libations. He’d allowed himself to be dismissed back to his room for loungewear, allowed Wei Qing to take a shower and come back in a shirt that was too-thin and pants that were too low, and only thought that it was good that no one unworthy was here to see his master like this.
That this was a safe place. Home.
Yue Fei had given into the request to watch one of those silly palace dramas, even though he knew that Wei Qing would not remember it, and had felt it was a perfectly acceptable end to the night. Chaste even. And then the long-lost general had appeared on the screen, slashing his way through the palace to rescue the unfavored prince, and Wei Qing’s happy drunkenness had turned into something else entirely.
He’d turned and clutched the blanket like it was armor, biting his lips and making Yue Fei promise that he’d come rescue him if he was the prince. He’d seemed very, very concerned about this. Abnormally concerned, but drunk brains had always had their own rhythms and logic.
“I would.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“You really promise?”
Yue Fei foresaw the entire rest of the night turning into a call and response of promising and requests for promise. Since he was not a mockingbird, he decided the drama was fine, but the alcohol had reached its limit.
“Wei Qing. No more drinking.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Well, except the risk of Wei Qing doing something completely irrational. Like, instead of going for the wine at all, climbing into his lap, grinding down, and kissing him. And that’s how we arrived where we are now.
—
It takes Yue Fei longer than it should, to realize that that is what’s happening. That Wei Qing whimpering in his mouth, tasting like bitter sweetness, is intentional, and not some strange accident on the way to alcohol theft.
Unexpected.
That’s the word for it. That’s the explanation for why Yue Fei’s hands, which have minds of their own, momentarily clamp down on Wei Qing’s soft waist and hold him there, rather than pushing him off. Why his mouth opens in surprise, almost as wide as his eyes, and he allows Wei Qing to lick into him.
It’s just something he didn’t plan for, didn’t defend against.
It’s more freezing than ‘giving in.’
That’s it. That’s his explanation, for why he passively lets it happen. Even- even participates, if you count the grip of his hands or the way his tongue twitches as he exhales and feels all manner of things he shouldn’t. Wei Qing is truly transcendent like this, like he was made for-
Yue Fei stops himself. Pries his drunken master off him.
“Wei Qing. Bed.”
“I’ll go if you come with~”
“Wei Qing. Be good. Bed.”
Yue Fei does not stand, or even make eye contact. But his tone brooks no argument, and even through the drunken and lust-satisfied haze, Wei Qing keeps just enough of a handle on himself to do as he’s told, be good. Go to bed. Alone.
The motion-activated lights turn off. Yue Fei doesn’t move. He sits for a long, long time, scenes of palace life mutedly flashing before him. Wei Qing-
Yue Fei slaps himself. He isn’t like those other men. He doesn’t want this, doesn’t want him like that. He. Does. Not. He is here to protect him, as best he is able. Here to watch him make better choices, to avert the tragedy that had once claimed him. His own desires don’t enter into it.
Not that he had any desires for his master.
He absolutely doesn’t. He can’t.
—
Wei Qing sleeps and dreams of wondrous, impossible things. An empty harem, a single emperor who dismisses everyone else, who only sees him. Only wants him. A son of heaven who could have the world, but settles for imperfect him. Declares him enough, as he sinks into his body and braids their hair into one plait, tied with a red knot. Dreams of flowers he’s never seen in person and robes that he doesn’t know how to tie, falling around him.
He wakes up from a rest sweet enough that it almost takes the edge off of his headache.
…Why is he naked?
Why is he sleeping diagonally across his bed, instead of properly-
Ah, the drinking.
Now he remembers. Or rather, finds the edges where his memory fades to blankness, just impressions of sweetness and want and bravery skittering around the edges of however the night had ended. Brushes against all the memories he doesn’t have because evidently, a few months of sobriety and a few years of phantasm is not great for one’s tolerance. At least he doesn’t have a bedmate this time. That’s a good start.
He rolls himself out of the nest he’s created, stumbles into the bathroom, and sets the shower to piping before checking his body in the mirror. No hickeys, no weird stains or spills– ha, he’s really done it! He’s gotten drunk without any embarrassing situations! Victory! (Or something like it). There’s a strange pattern against his hip, not enough to be called a bruise–
Eh, he probably fell asleep in some weird position that left those impressions against his skin.
Wouldn’t be the first time, won’t be the last. Wei Qing throws the mystery from his mind and cheerfully washes up. Washes and pulls his abandoned sweats from the floor, tosses them into the hamper before grabbing a new set. Look at him, almost like a real adult, cleaning up his own shit and getting up before noon, even after a party that normally meant a week-long bender was imminent. It’s strange but good to wake up clear-headed after such an event. To want soup and dumplings instead of a shot to keep the party going.
He’s going to-
Wait, why is his door locked? He didn’t even know his door could lock?
Since when?
—
Yue Fei lets him out after three attempts at turning the unturnable knob. Wei Qing looks up, questioning but not accusatory, only for the words to die in his throat.
Yue Fei…
Looks rough. Rougher than Wei Qing can ever remember him looking, excepting the time that he’d accidentally gotten involved with someone who was probably (in retrospect, definitely) involved in organized crime, and Yue Fei had had to smuggle him out of Laos to avoid the consequences.
He’s oddly buttoned up, for a day at home. High collar, multiple layers, looking so formal that Wei Qing almost wonders if they’re expecting company. But the real issue is his eyes– which are dark-circled enough for him to try out for a horror movie, no special effects needed. He looks… exhausted. Haunted even.
Wei Qing worries that he might not have been good at all. He laughs nervously.
“Yue Fei? Uh… did I… try to jump off the balcony, or something?”
“Don’t joke about such things.” That is not a happy voice. Wei Qing would call it scary, even. Yue Fei sighs and wordlessly heads back to the kitchen, leaving Wei Qing to chase after him and try to pull out clues for why Yue Fei looks like shit, and why he was locked in.
Oh no. Could he have-?
“Yue Fei. I didn’t… try anything-” Yue Fei holds his breath, Wei Qing doesn’t notice, “-like calling up Zhao Li- umm, anyone, did I?”
Yue Fei exhales and shakes his head.
Starts the final steps of breakfast, the last steam cycle for the dumplings, citrus squeezed and golden mountain drizzled over the waiting noodles. Deflects. “You became overly invested in concerns of the harem. In the interest of keeping you from invading Manchuria, I felt I had to lock you in. Apologies for any inconvenience.”
Based on his dreams, Wei Qing can believe it. So he does. Does and drinks his soup and eats his dumplings and happily chatters away, totally oblivious to Yue Fei’s unnatural stiffness and the way he avoids the couch and physical touch like he’s afraid something’s contagious.
Don’t blame Wei Qing, he’s always been a little self-involved.
And anyway, the idea that he’d drunkenly made out with and even tried to drag Yue Fei to bed– that he’d left the man so discombobulated that he’d spent the entire night awake, rejecting his reactions and questioning his own moral compass– well, even if that was the truth, it was unbelievable. So far out of the realm of possibility that Wei Qing would probably need video evidence to accept that it had happened at all.
One, as far as he knows, he’s not brave enough for that, even with liquid courage. Two, even if he knew what he’d done… the idea that calm, collected, untouchable Yue Fei would be affected? Honestly, it would be easier to convince him his brother cared about him. Self-esteem has never been his strong suit.
—-
But even in his haze of self-satisfaction, Wei Qing knows the night had a hiccup– an attractive, sexually aggressive subordinate with whom he already had an inappropriate relationship. Not a great look, and not sustainable, no matter how much he wanted to pretend it had nothing to do with him. So after breakfast and morning sunbathing and an oddly silent early afternoon of Yue Fei straight up disappearing to organize some storage space or other– Wei Qing finally breaks open his never-used home office and tries to plan out something ethically defensible.
And when that doesn’t go well, he grabs his laptop and plants his ass on the kitchen counter instead. Adopts a lotus pose and uses his lap as a desk, the marble as a great place for his feet and butt. What? His clothes are clean! …Sure enough, Yue Fei’s inner neat freak is triggered enough by the violation to materialize from wherever he’d hidden himself. Wei Qing looks down at him, enjoying looking down at him for once.
“Yue Fei! There you are~”
“Counters are not seats.”
“Anything’s a seat if you’re shameless enough.”
Yue Fei- Is Yue Fei blushing? Over what? As far as his quips go, that’s not even a good one!
Wei Qing doesn’t have time to find out. Instead, he’s pulled easily from the countertop (damn you, frictionless smooth stone and soft pants!). By the time he recovers from being so easily manhandled into a stool, Yue Fei’s back is turned to him, espresso is being pressed, only the redness at the tips of his ears left as evidence. Ah–
Given his track record, maybe it’s better he not overthink it. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that he flat-out mounted someone in front of Yue Fei, once upon a time. Speaking of which–
“I’ll need to deal with Xiao Lirong.”
“What’s there to deal with? A termination is a termination.” Steam hisses from the press, and the scent of coffee wraps around them. Makes this feel domestic again, instead of tawdry or clinical, the way near-miss bathroom assignations and subsequent terminations can be.
Wei Qing scrubs a hand through his still-damp hair.
“I can’t do that. Fire him, I mean. Not outright.”
“Ah.” In Yue Fei’s tone there is disappointment, and something else, hovering on the edge of spilling out.
“What… ah? Hey, don’t misunderstand me! I can’t just fire him, because it’s my fault, yeah? Doesn’t mean I’m keeping him around to fuck around with, or whatever you’re thinking!” Wei Qing’s voice drops into petulance. “I already said I wouldn’t…”
Yue Fei slides an espresso over to him, hands gentle enough to spell out an apology. It gives Wei Qing the confidence to continue talking through his dilemma.
“Fact is, he crossed that line because I’m the one that erased it. All that messiness started with me, and when he did show up… it’s not exactly like I chewed him out or anything. Can’t blame him for thinking it was same scene, different location.” I probably would have let him, and hated myself afterward, if you hadn’t intervened, so where can I get off dismissing him? Isn’t that bullshit of the highest order? It’s not like yachtboying or research assisting has mindreading as a prerequisite.
Yue Fei hums, noncommittal.
“It would help if I could remember why the fuck I thought bringing him into the company was the right move.”
“At one point, you wanted to engage in sexual acts on every floor of Wei Securities. Perhaps you thought having a standing order would expedite that.”
“Jesus Christ. Can we not phrase it like that?”
Yue Fei’s not wrong, but still. Some things don’t need to be said aloud, yeah? Anyway, as far as he remembered, they’d never even managed to hook up at the company proper, what with Wei Qing’s deep aversion to the place and his short attention span. If he really inserted the guy for a fuckfest that never even manifested…
Ah, that really would be peak pathetic pettiness.
No wonder he’d ended up the way he had.
He’s distressed enough by the idea (and Yue Fei’s unimpressed reminders of his past appetites) that he scours his braindead social media and old messaging archives until he winds back nineteen months, to some truly blush-inducing photos of Xiao Lirong, smiling cutely in scandalously short swim shorts while sitting in his lap, feeding him strawberries, blushingly kissing champagne into his mouth-
Again, Jesus. How had no one tried to off him earlier?!
But from in between all the sophomoric sexts and burnable photos, Wei Qing finally pulls out a nugget of useful information: In a drunken talk about life after yachting, Xiao Lirong had expressed the shy desire to work in a medical lab and help make common people’s lives better.
How that connects to being a deeply underqualified research assistant for a security company, Wei Qing isn’t sure. But he bets Xiao Lirong remembers. It gives him the barest of game plans for the coming week, and the conversations that will need to happen to keep him on the straight and narrow (and in Yue Fei’s good graces, please and thank you).
A day more of unwinding, then into the office to deal with this. Wei Qing even has Yue Fei send a formal request for (which is really a notice of) a meeting between him and Xiao Lirong. Yes, just a day. Wei Qing cares enough about this momentum that he is willing to do the unthinkable:
To voluntarily report to work on a Monday.
Author’s Corner:
Is it even a modern rebirth novel without at least one blackout kissing segment?
I can’t help it, it’s in the contract, I swear.
Omg, I wasn’t expecting that kiss 😳 but then, I also figured it couldn’t be top long til something like that occurred… praying for Yue Fei’s sanity 🙏 and for Xiao Lirong to not get totally screwed over lol, poor guy trapped in an awkward spot
Thanks for the chapter❤️
Yue fei’s having an existencial crisis right there
thanks for the chapter <3
I’m happy for both of them that Wei Qing recognizes his responsibility in hiring a brat for no reason, and how inappropriate it would be to fire him for no (apparent) reason. As long as he can think like that, he and Yue Fei have a chance together without both of them mistaking it for one of Wei Qing’s bad habits.
Not going into the office on a monday 😱 That’s wild.