Their three-day weekend is lovely. Even if they only get to spend two nights together– ah, Wei Qing can’t imagine complaining! Other than slightly wanting to buy the place and never leave, that is. He feels connected and rested and filled with plans for future hideaways; Yue Fei feels soft and warm and like he did alright, even if this is his first attempt at having a boyfriend and planning romantic excursions.
Probably, he should have held onto the lake house until it was warm enough to properly swim, and probably, he should have baked some sort of cake instead of just filling his boyfriend up on ice cream, but other than that he gives himself a good score. As an assistant and a boyfriend. He looks down at where Wei Qing is still bundled against him, doing his best to chain them to the place through dead weight alone.
What a strange, unexpected promotion he’s landed.
He certainly has the logistics down; breakfast ends and they have one last long and languid makeout session on the deck which involves Yue Fei returning Wei Qing’s favor from the shower the day before. Then the missing driver appears and loads their luggage and is ready to schlep them back to the city, all without Yue Fei having to call for him.
Wei Qiwan’s people are really talented. Good at driving too– so good that Wei Qing falls asleep against Yue Fei’s shoulder an hour in when the roads turn smooth and the driving uncle’s motoring becomes positively silky. The real miracle is when Yue Fei is relaxed enough to join him in nodding off.
A first, in any lifetime.
They smoothly arrive back home, to find an apartment absolutely filled with horrible, dreadful, no good gifts.
—
Wei Qing’s idea of gift-giving as a form of teasing… did not sprout in a desert.
Yue Fei now knows this.
Sure enough…
Everything he knew, he learned from Wei Qiwan. Luggage in hand, confronted with a living room positively filled with presents… There’s no denying the family resemblance. Given that the penthouse is in the family’s name, they can’t even be distracted by the annoyance of him ‘breaking in.’
A CEO, breaking in in order to one-up all those silly weekly gifts. Wei Qing gave a durian, Wei Qiwan gave a nest of pedalai. Wei Qing gave a pallet of Tic Tacs, Wei Qiwan made an entire damn boxfort of White Rabbit. Wei Qing had all those online streamers praise his brother, Wei Qiwan had set up a looping split screen of the entire cast of Cats singing individual (non-synchronized) renditions of ‘Happy Birthday’ to Wei Qing.
And so on. Wei Qing would like to sue for pain and suffering, especially aural damage. He says as much in his text.
Wei Qing manages to hold until his bedroom, only to find a massive painting of their whole family, laid neatly across his bed with a note ordering him not to destroy it, because ‘Mom already said she wants it if you don’t.’ And knowing their mother, yeah she does. She’ll probably renovate the foyer of her beachside villa just to raise the ceilings high enough to fit the monstrosity in.
Wei Qing laughs so hard he cries, as he and Yue Fei carefully walk the admittedly well-painted behemoth up and away, only to find out there’s no place else it fits, except on the wall across from the bed. They can’t even get it out the door! It must have been brought up as a roll, the frame connected and the canvas hand-stretched only after it was already in. What a nuisance.
“Yue Fei, is it me, or do the eyes follow you wherever you move in the room?”
It’s not just him, and Wei Qing doubts he’s going to sleep well. Too spooky. Spooky enough that all his recently ramped-up hormones turn tail and flee, and all his plans for more bonding with Yue Fei fly right out the window, past his dear mother’s horribly realistic eyes and his father’s lovingly detailed nose hairs.
Wei Qiwan even treats pranks with the seriousness of a hostile acquisition. Rude! Vicious!
Yue Fei coughs and kisses his cheek under the Wei family’s watchful eyes.
“Well, you can stop worrying that he suddenly changed. This level of gift-giving is not the type of thing to be arranged over a weekend.”
Even with expedited shipping and cruelty to artists… this still… clearly represents plenty of forethought, even if the expressed thoughts are so gauche that they make Wei Qing spasm. And laugh-cry again, when the CATS in the living room reach the crescendo of their yowly little song.
He sends his brother fifty-five sobbing emojis and a gif of a dog rolling itself in a blanket and hiding its eyes.
And that shithead just sends a thumbs-up emoji back. Block! Blacklist for a million years!
Sure, Wei Qing is technically the one who started this, but it’s still bullying! He tosses his phone into the fortress of candy. Nothing to do but sort it. And turn off the damn television.
…
His feelings of delight become less surreal and more genuine, as he works his way through the gag gifts, only to discover that most of them hold a real gift, somewhere in the packaging or potato sack or flipside of the canvas. It makes the organization of the presents something like a scavenger hunt, and Wei Qing gets a little invested in it.
He’d always loved being rewarded for curiosity and sneakiness. He’d even had a Sherlock Holmes birthday party as a little kid. It’s nice that Wei Qiwan might remember that. He still doesn’t understand what he did wrong before or what he did right in this lifetime, to have Wei Qiwan willing to bridge the unmentioned abyss that had formed between them, but he’s grateful.
Grateful enough that he even gamely agrees, when Yue Fei offers to find some sort of way to prepare the pedalai and keep them from turning into food waste. He also eats approximately his body weight in White Rabbit candies, because they really are his favorite. (Later in the night, he regrets this. Deeply).
He wonders why he never thought to buy them for himself, once he was grown up? Maybe… Maybe he’d always been waiting for his elder brother to turn around and sneak a few more into his closed fist.
But it’s still excessive.
“Yue Fei, do you think Wei Qiwan would be mad if we sent a few cases out?” He rolls a candy in his mouth and lets the milkiness coat his tongue and sweeten his breath. “There’s probably a group home or two that could use treats, right? Is it rude to-?”
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.
Yue Fei smiles.
“P atlcx tf’v jqqgbnf.”
“Xgfja! Zs kjlra jcv vfcalra wluta regnlnf atlr sfa.” Qfl Hlcu oibqr yjmx jcv fztjifr.
After all, even after Yue Fei lines up donations to two group homes and one elementary school, there are hundreds of packages of candy left. His waistline is still probably doomed, but at least he made an attempt. Getting rid of all the candy is, of course, impossible. Not just because of gratitude, but because he is rapidly re-addicted. Maybe milk candy as his new cocaine? Not bad, not bad.
Qfl Hlcu geyr atf gjlrfv xclaalcu bo atf ubgufber qfjmbmx-rtlwwfglcu alf atja tf’r pera obecv cfjais aemxfv lcab atf ijra mgjaf bo Qtlaf Ejyyla tf mtfmxfv yfobgf jqqgbnlcu obeg-oloatr bo atfw obg rtlqwfca ab ibmji sbeat.
The poor elevator gets its yearly exercise, ferrying these rich-people whims up and down, up and down– this is why machines needed the right to unionize!
—
Everything is great. Pretty close to perfect.
Nothing to complain about.
Wei Qing barely makes it to his birthday proper before his silent panic turns toxic.
(The R&D team built him a customized one-of-a-kind bot, painted like a dragon, and they all have a delicious lunch. Lovely and thoughtful and not too much. It also does nothing to stop his spiral.)
He doesn’t understand. Or rather, he does understand and hates himself for it.
His boyfriend is amazing, his coworkers are kind, his old friend is scheduling weekly lunches, and his brother is leaving the door open. Other than his endlessly absentee parents, his life is positively charmed. He loves it, and he fears it. Fears it dreadfully, no matter how much he tries to push away the doubt and shame that hides along the edge of every sweet gesture and perfect kiss. How can he possibly keep this?
Maybe the problem with his dreams is that the person having them is him. Even when he gets everything that he wants, he can’t stop picking, looking to find the invisible seam of whatever fault will eventually rip this happiness away from him. Trying to preempt the hurt that he’s been primed to believe is coming.
Because good things don’t last. Not after he’s touched them.
Of course, he can’t verbalize any of this. Not without taking the shine off of all the kindness that others are showing him. Not without ruining more things with his over-wrought bullshit. What would he even say? What kind of complaint was, ‘Everything is so good that it’s making me sick?” So his unspoken and uncertain fears fester and his smile becomes tighter and his dreams more dreadful.
You know, people don’t drown the way you expect. They don’t always flail and scream. Sometimes, they just…
Sink.
—
Wei Qing isn’t doing as good of a job of hiding as he thinks he is.
At least, not when the person at his side is Yue Fei. And he’s not the only one who can catastrophize.
But there’s an important difference: Yue Fei is inoculated. All the worst things he can think of have already happened to him. Romantic and physical and otherwise. He’s already lost everything he had, made a clean break with his hopes and dreams and regrets. He… can affect a clinical distance even as Wei Qing wraps around him and insists nothing’s wrong and straddles him like gravity is about to go offline and his body is his only hope of keeping them linked when it does.
But that doesn’t mean he’ll watch Wei Qing collapse.
A week after the perfect(ly bizarre) end to the birthday festivities, Yue Fei makes Wei Qing an appointment with a highly-rated therapist and pretends it’s a company initiative. Wei Qing does him the honor of not inspecting the veracity of such well-timed corporate support. Yue Fei knows that Wei Qing won’t admit anything’s wrong to him (maybe with good reason), so he… will leave it to the professionals.
And while Wei Qing meets with the middle-aged lady with the expensive glasses and the more expensive degrees, back at home, Yue Fei…
Stares blankly at the smoky glass of the coffee table. Tries not to assign meaning to the desperation that has been rolling off of Wei Qing in barely-hidden waves, every time he kisses him goodnight or tries to pull him into more lovemaking.
Maybe he’s lucky. Maybe it’s just a phase and not proof that Yue Fei ruins everyone that he dares to love. Maybe Wei Qing will catch a ride back home and everything will be perfect and lovely and impossibly sweet again.
But Yue Fei’s experience says not.
Wei Qing’s not the only one having nightmares, and it’s affecting Yue Fei’s libido in ways that are hard to hide. Hey, you try being the world’s best lover after decades of inaction and recently re-ignited fears that your dick makes people suicidal.
Not that Wei Qing is-
Just-
It sounds funny, but the sounds choked back in Yue Fei’s throat are closer to sobs than laughter. Right, he knows his own warning signs as well.
Yue Fei makes his own teletherapy appointment After all, technically, neither of them has even admitted anything is wrong. They’re still joking and kissing and lewding all manner of surfaces in their apartment. Just with a persistent, unspoken air of panic around every bit of carved-out intimacy.
Just with imaginary vultures circling overhead.
—
“So am I just supposed to…” Wei Qing waves a hand in the space between himself and Dr. Maki. Nice lady. Nice interior design aesthetic. Really awkward situation to be plunked down in.
“Is this your first time exploring therapy?”
Wei Qing nods and looks down in embarrassment.
Dr. Maki smiles. “Then I’d like to commend you for taking this first step.” Smiles and keeps talking, before Wei Qing can disavow knowledge of any step-taking. She smiles and spins the ring on her finger and soothingly explains the purpose of therapy and the rights of patients and generally does her best to wrap him in a blanket of safety before they ever arrive at anything about why a rich young nobody might suddenly find themselves in need of psychological counseling.
“-here to listen, not judge or give solutions.” Wei Qing nods along obediently. Really nice curtains.
Therapists, like teachers, have a unique affinity for sensing when their charges’ attention is wandering. Dr. Maki tosses a soft ball at him, chuckling and nodding approvingly at his spastic (but successful!) catch.
“Wei Qing, everyone has things that they need to talk about. I do, you do, the President himself does. I imagine if we ever meet alien life forms, we’ll discover they have therapy as well. It’s a universal need to express– and sometimes, there’s no one in our personal life that we can share with. That’s where people like me come in.”
“Do you have a therapist?” Wei Qing is usually more polite than this, honest. But Dr. Maki doesn’t take it personally.
“I do. His name is Bernard and he’s older than dirt and sometimes I don’t think he can even hear half of what I say, but feeling safe saying it to him is enough.” She smiles again, and Wei Qing wonders if her cheeks ever ache, having to be so nice and safe even when dealing with people that create problems out of air, like him.
“What I hope is that you find value in this appointment, and in as many appointments to come as you’d like, by having me as someone to talk to, yell about things with, cry alongside– knowing that whatever you feel or say, it will stay between us.” She shifts and her eyes connect with his. “The only exception is if I feel you are a danger to yourself or others. In that case, I will have to notify the appropriate care team, but if that happens– I’ll explain what I’m doing and why.”
“So don’t tell you if I’m planning to murder anyone. Got it.”
“Do you often use humor to deflect?”
“Ah? Um-” Wei Qing coughs. “Yes. Sorry. I know it’s rude and childish and…” He doesn’t finish. She’s still smiling at him, so unoffended and kind.
“I don’t see it that way. I see it as a sign that you’re a very empathetic person, and you worry a lot about bringing down other people.”
“You got all that, from that?” Wei Qing blushes and rubs his neck, feeling more exposed than he’s felt in actual orgies.
“I could be off-base.”
“No, you’re not… It’s just- ah, fuck! Sorry, am I allowed to curse?”
“I don’t mind. What were you saying?”
That’s the rub.
Even Wei Qing isn’t sure what he’s saying or feeling, especially lately. He rolls his neck and tries to organize his thoughts and does everything except make eye contact with the nice lady. What is the saying? You eat an elephant one bite at a time, you start stories from the beginning… but not too much in the beginning, otherwise you end up in inpatient treatment for your schizoaffective tendencies.
Or so he hears.
“My life was pretty shit for… a long time. At least it felt like a long time. And- ha, you must think I’m- I mean, some fucking rich douche complaining about how hard life is, what a joke, right?” Dr. Maki doesn’t respond, that smile still hanging from her lips as she motions for him to continue. “Anyway… it’s not shit now. It’s great. Better than even before it was shit. But I don’t-” He gulps. “I don’t know why. I don’t know why I’m suddenly worth loving, don’t know why I wasn’t before.”
He dashes his palm against his eyes and hugs a pillow to his chest, feeling silly and small and embarrassed.
“If I don’t know, how can I keep it?” His voice is the whisper of a child, hearing his parents fighting for the first time and feeling the world tilt.
“You think that if you can’t control your happiness, you can’t protect it.”
“If I don’t know what I did wrong or right to get such different- how am I supposed to avoid fucking up again?”
People say the line between love and hate is thin, but that’s bullshit. Wei Qing wants a fucking DMZ to separate him from losing his brother and his Yue Fei and his newly found sense of self-respect and professional success. The thought that the line is thin and invisible, that he might accidentally blunder over it–
It paralyzes him. Makes him afraid to make even the smallest step. And only after the sheer perfection of that birthday week had he realized… everything you gain, you can also lose. And he always loses what he clings to. That’s right behind entropy in the unassailable laws of his universe.
Dr. Maki finally speaks.
“Well, first… I’d like to go back to what you said about your life. About feeling like you don’t have a right to complain. Mr. Wei, if you never see me again and don’t take anything else away from this experience, I hope to at least help with this.” She leans forward, and her seriousness makes Wei Qing mimic the movement.
“Pain is not competitive. You do not have to be in the worst position for your feelings to matter.”
And then, she just stops talking!
Stops talking and keeps looking, until Wei Qing nervously swallows and nods his head. He’s not magically converted, but her words do make his come a little easier, as he obfuscates the truth (but not his feelings) about his new relationships and his old brother and his terror that this is all some cosmic joke, and he’ll end up erring just like he had before, unworthy of the attention of such men.
He cries more than he’d like to admit, in their ninety-minute introductory chat.
But crying in front of Dr. Maki is less dreadful than doing the same in front of Yue Fei, so he books six months of weekly therapy in advance. Even if he’s an unfixable mess… It’s nice to be able to talk to someone unaffiliated in the interim. And he’s always been good at throwing money at problems.
—
“How was it?”
Wei Qing’s response to Yue Fei’s carefully unstudied question is to wrap his arms around the sauteeing man and burrow into his armpit. He’s emotionally drained, but he feels lighter in those spaces that are at least temporarily emptied. It’s an uncomfortable, but not unpleasant feeling.
“…Please thank the company initiative on my behalf.”
“En.”
As Yue Fei continues to cook dinner with movements that are just the tiniest bit too stiff, Wei Qing sits at the counter and pillows his head on his elbows, taking his Yue Fei in. Pain isn’t competitive– but he’d also rather it not be a team event. He wonders how Yue Fei has been feeling, to pick out such a good doctor for him.
Under the ‘company initiative.’
“…So are you also taking part? Since it’s companywide.” As a boyfriend, he thinks he should probably be a little proactive for Yue Fei as well.
“Telehealth, but yes.”
Wei Qing blinks and sits up, a little more at ease now that he’s not the only one facing the stigma of therapy. Which Yue Fei is acting like isn’t a stigma at all. Imagine that. They chat and dinner cooks and Wei Qing discovers that his seemingly perfectly put-together man has been in therapy since he was a teenager, off and on. He’s had more than a decade of those uncomfortable conversations and dives into his own emotions.
“Is that why you’re so good?”
“Probably.” Yue Fei laughs. “Without Lu-laoshi, I doubt I’d ever even interact with other people, much less-” Yue Fei leans across the counter and nips at Wei Qing’s lips. “-steal kisses from my boyfriend.”
Wei Qing responds in a very adult manner. If you consider letting the fish risk blackening while trapping your partner in the corner just past the refrigerator and stealing kisses back (with interest) adult, that is. Everything isn’t fixed at once, of course. After all, delayed gratification applies to more than just physical release, and Wei Qing feels the annoyance of having to slowly get better with each week that passes.
With each stumble into uncertainty and each frisson of fear that randomly rockets through him.
But it’s easier, he’s easier, and in that easiness, Yue Fei is able to start to slowly relax as well.
Neither is brave enough to talk it out with one another yet, but despite not knowing one another, Lu-laoshi on one side and Dr. Maki on the other manage to build a bridge past so many rapids and undercurrents, despite not being able to clearly see the river they’re fording.
Author’s Corner:
Therapy, 10/10, would recommend. This story is a little Mary Sue in one respect here though– it’s pretty rare to find your fated therapist at first appointment, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You can meet with dozens of providers before finding the one you fit with, but even though that’s exhausting (especially when depressed), you should do your best to keep trying. Personally, I’ve had at least a dozen therapists, and I would say only two or three were really my ideal one. And you know what? They had nothing in common. Race, gender, therapy technique– there was no pattern, except they happened to be the people that I felt safe healing with.
So if you find yourself in a stressful situation, a slump, overcoming trauma, or just want to learn more about your internal life, I would encourage you to try! And if the first one doesn’t work out, there’s no shame in trying again!
Speaking of people that might benefit from therapy after returning from the dead~
Xie Zhi was an actor who was committed to his craft and equally committed to telling a certain script (and handsome little would-be costar) to kick rocks. Then he and bridge-kun had a falling out and he died. Can you guess what happened next?
Ahem. Our peerless film god gets a second chance at life, in the form of the novel world’s chillest, most pacifistic powerhouse, Xie Zhiwei. In the original work, he’s the quickly killed off but deeply appreciated would-be master of the reborn male lead. The (also dead) author could only express: I love you so much, this character is patterned off of you, please help me complete the story!
If it wasn’t out of character, Xie Zhi(wei) would scream.
Instead, he adopts the teen male lead Mu He and watches him do charming things like accidentally-on-purpose swerve his entire future harem, explore the limits of shellfish allergies, and, oh yeah, fall hopelessly in love with his shizun and do anything he can to get him back. You know, normal stallion novel things.
Xie Zhi: I’m sorry, can you say that last part again?
If you aren’t already, I strongly recommend you head over and read ‘Too Bad Master Died Early,’ as translated by the excellent Ruyi. The comment section of that novel is my second home here on CG, and I positively adore it.
It’s got big ‘shizun notice me energy.’ It’s got the most hilarious approach to unwanted beauties. It has a cat named Dog (who is descended from a divine beast). It goes over the awkwardness of having a sexual awakening while living in a bamboo house with no laundry machines. In short, it has everything! Ruyi even feeds delicious videos and songs to get you in the spirit! Go, go Pikachus!
How nice, your summary really piqued my interest and timely as well since I’ve been looking for a new addiction on CG. I know where to camp next hihi
Glad to know Wei Qing is taking the therapy well and that Yue fei is willing to open about his decades long therapy to soothe his little boyfriend’s nerve. And I absolutely love how Qiwan would rather tease and prank his brother coz for me that’s how siblings show affection to each other.
Thanks for the update~ 😘😘
You made me cry again 😭😭😭 i kinda agree that everyone needs therapy, even if there’s nothing “wrong” with them
A few tears fell 🥲
Therapy for me falls into the same group as shoes and underwear; things to choose carefully and spend good money on as it really needs to fit me properly!
Yes, that 😅
The painting is evil genius level! I laughed so much in the first half! I love that Yue Fei is open with him about his own ongoing therapy,it obviously reassured him. And I remembered a long time ago, when I told my own little boy he could have his own therapist and it would be ILLEGAL for them to tell either of us parents what he talked about. I definitely recommend it for children during a divorce.
thanks for the chapter <3
I am at a whole new level of respect for this author.
QAQ I love that they’re not cured by magic and Yue Fei with his years of therapy because well. Nobody talks to a therapist and boom it’s all fine ! (I understand the need to have a lucky first therapist is a good one, just Yue Fei choose well and voilà ahah)
Thank you for the chapter as always 🌷
Again it has to be checked because i used the word as*xual, ugh
Can i use the word homosexual?
Okay whew it’s not because of asxuality in itself *I’m looking at you, Youtube
Ha, I think that you’ve probably already figured it out, but the block is general and has to do with the core word; it’s a pretty common feature to try to prevent the adult site bots from coming in and just peeing everywhere. Unfortunately, it can cause delays in real comments getting posted.
Thanks for reading and commenting!
🌺