However it is that the voice of the public speaks, so must be mirrored by the rule of state.
This motto was gifted to news media workers at large by a famous industry leader. Its sentiment was rational yet touching, but, to Xing Ming, media workers were in truth a very arrogant group of people.
Xing Ming's view towards people within this circle was quite pessimistic, but he had confidence in his team. Back when he had plotted to replace Zhuang Lei's team, he had carefully picked out a team for himself. Within the group, a lot of people were those he'd personally found and promoted. Their six-month team relationship wasn't long, but people would have to say that, despite his excessive strictness, Xing Ming deserved to be regarded as a good leader most of the time. He did not greedily pursue success and merit and was not stingy on giving bonuses to his team. On the occasions when Pearl Line had received awards, the humble host, Xing Ming, had shared his success with his coworkers.
As a result, all the team members got a piece of the pie, it was mutually beneficial. One of Xing Ming's most virtuous and heroic moments had taken place during an interview in Manila, when a mobster had attacked. During the attack, a mobster with a knife had decided to aim for the program director. Xing Ming had noticed that the program director had frozen during the emergency and shoved him away, getting stabbed by the mobster's knife in the process.
When he was stabbed, Xing Ming had covered his severely bleeding wound and acted very calm and composed. The program director on the other hand had cried and wept like he wanted to offer his own life in sacrifice to save Xing Ming.
Staying up all night together and risking their lives together, like soldiers who had used the same latrine and crouched in the same trench: the so-called camaraderie of revolution was nothing more and nothing less than that.
This was why he had been so confident when he said to Yu Zhongye that he could find his own team members and crew for the show.
But Xing Ming also had a flaw. He got too into his work, so egocentrically engrossed in his work to the point where he often had trouble remembering the names of his underlings, addressing them instead by their job title. The editor was "Editor," and the program director was "Program Director." He personally thought this was a very efficient way of doing things, but in reality, this was just him being lazy.
Xing Ming had ordered Ruan Ning to attend to arranging the weekend dinner with the whole team pretty early on. He planned to strengthen his connections with his team and help promote their sense of cohesion, while conveniently bringing up the opportunity of the new program.
Ruan Ning had asked each team member in turn, confirming that everyone was free for Saturday, then made reservations for a dining room in Guo Mao, one of the tallest skyscrapers in Asia. He picked the revolving restaurant located on the eighty-eighth floor. Their seafood buffet cost a few hundred yuan per person. Their servers were mostly foreigners, most of whom didn't even speak English.
The reservation was for 11:30 am, but Xing Ming had gotten there a little bit early. He stood by the window alone, observing the view outside. Looking from the building where he resided, the city below seemed completely different. It had become narrower and shallower, congested and small. Cars and pedestrians were like ants and amoebas, and the river that crossed through the city was like a dull grey ribbon.
It was just past 11 am when Ruan Ning, the first arrival, showed up. There was no secret that could be hidden overnight in Pearl Station. The incident which had happened in the chairman's office had been heard and spread by almost everyone at the Station. Hence, Ruan Ning was slightly afraid to meet with Xing Ming, fearing that he would probably be the next jinx or punching bag to bear the rage from their leader. Luckily however, though the wound on Xing Ming's chin had not completely healed, he didn't appear to be in a bad mood. Xing Ming casually spoke to him with a smile on his face.
At 11:30, a waiter delivered free mango juice and appetizers, asking Xing Ming when all the guests would arrive. After waiting for half an hour, Xing Ming, having lost both his patience and temper, asked Ruan Ning to call the others.
Ruan Ning obediently dialed a number but hung up after only a few sentences. Turning his head toward Xing Ming, he said, "Sun Wei's daughter has acute gastroenteritis, so he can't make it."
Xing Ming frowned. "Sun Wei? Who is Sun Wei?"
Ruan Ning knew that Xing Ming couldn't remember names, so he tried hard to explain it to him, "He's the program director of our team. The one who's pretty buff, with dark skin and glasses. Last time, when you went to Manila to interview people, you saved him from being stabbed…"
"Oh, that one." Once "program director" was mentioned, an actual face with details finally came to Xing Ming's mind. But he still frowned and asked in confusion, "He has a daughter? When did he get married?"
Ruan Ning scratched his head while grinning. "He had to get married because his new wife got pregnant. You haven't even approved his marriage leave."
Around noon, the waiter came to ask again but no one else on the team had arrived.
After waiting a long time without seeing anyone, Xing Ming told Ruan Ning to call once again. This time, Ruan Ning refused. He lowered his head, saying, "There's no need to wait anymore, I don't think those people will come. If you can still cancel the table, do it." He said it in a vague and ambiguous way that didn't explain anything at all.
Xing Ming shook his head, saying, "I will wait."
"Boss, really. They won't come. Not a single person." Ruan Ning acted like a student who had made a mistake. His head got lower and lower and his voice became softer and softer as he said, "Ol' Chen also planned a dinner today. He said that If People Love Beauty is building up its own team, and capable men like Sun Wei are urgently needed for this type of new shows…"
Xing Ming frowned, interrupting him, "Where are they?"
"Also… also here." Ruan Ning's voice had almost extinguished. "On the eighty-sixth floor, Yue Zhi Xuan…'"
Xing Ming glanced over Ruan Ning, then suddenly snatched up his phone and dialed a number.
"Boss…" Ruan Ning tried to speak up but stopped when he saw Xing Ming turn around and raise his index finger at him, warning him to shut up.
The phone rang a couple of times, then Sun Wei finally picked up the phone. After realizing it was Xing Ming's voice, he hurried to explain, "Boss, look, this really unfortunate. This morning my daughter started regurgitating milk and had diarrhea. Right now, I'm with my wife in the hospital."
"Yeah? Is it serious? Do you need a leave of absence?" Xing Ming did not reveal his intentions while talking, but he had already arrived at the eighty-sixth floor. Using his eyes to tell Ruan Ning to lead him to the room, he followed and entered into Yue Zhi Xuan.
"I'm guessing it's just gastroenteritis. The kid is just too small, and her mother didn't pay enough attention. I'll be here with them for a little bit longer—" Then, the voice came to an abrupt halt as Sun Wei frightfully raised his head and noticed the man standing by the door of the reserved room.
Expressionlessly, Xing Ming stared at Sun Wei, at all the other people in the room.
"You…" The next words were stuck in his throat for almost one minute. Xing Ming, who felt humiliated and dismayed, struggled to release his words. However, in the end, he said only one sentence, "You are all… very good."
While the speaker appeared to be in a fairly calm state, the listeners felt awkwardly jittery. The originally harmonious group with a festive air had now lapsed into a deadly silence. These people were the elites in the team. In Xing Ming's own words, they were all people with whom he had the bond of shared life-and-death experiences.
"Oh, isn't this young Xing?" Sitting in the middle of everyone, Ol' Chen didn't seem at all surprised as he smirked and greeted Xing Ming.
The program director, cameraman, music editor, and even the most extraneous intern assistant of the News Critic Department—Ruan Ning, they had all known about the meeting. Only one person had been kept in the dark. Ol' Chen's insults tended to work exactly like this. He'd deliberately chosen the same place for a dinner, but he made sure none of them would say anything.
Ruan Ning feared that Xing Ming might cause big trouble by messing with this situation, so he promptly grabbed him, nervously calling to him, "Boss."
Xing Ming harshly pushed Ruan Ning away and stepped toward the round table, taking an empty wine glass. Then, he opened up a bottle of Wuliangye liquor and filled the cup full of alcohol, pouring over five ounces for himself.
"The first one is a toast in thanks for my education." Xing Ming glanced over at Sun Wei, holding the cup in his hand. "I remember a year and a half ago, when I had just transferred over to work at Pearl Station. I was a newcomer without any professional training and skills. This has all been thanks to everyone's support and care. For this, I will toast everyone by drinking this cup. You guys, please serve yourselves." After that speech, he raised his head and finished all the alcohol in his cup.
Sun Wei's face turned red. He felt a desperate urge to say something, yet due to the presence of Ol' Chen, he dared not to speak up.
Xing Ming filled another cup for himself, once again holding it in his hand, smiling, "The second toast is a confession. I'm an impatient, ill-tempered individual who often starts conflicts and fights with you guys over the show. But I really appreciated that all of you were so patient and generous, that you offered me forgiveness after all this time—I will finish this cup as well, please serve yourselves." Then, he lifted his head and drank the whole cup of liquor, turning it upside down to show that it was empty.
Everyone looked at him, aghast.
"The third is a toast of farewell. People have a tendency to climb. Seeking a better position and more status is very normal." After he filled the cup a third time, the 17-ounce bottle of Wuliangye was more or less finished. Xing Ming lifted his eyes and glanced at the group. "Let's give a toast for farewell. I wish everyone a bright future."
The group, over a dozen in all, stared at each other, struggling between the urge of accepting and refusing this toast. Neither option was suitable.
Watching everyone's motions stiffen, Xing Ming turned grim. "I said, let's toast together."
All the people invited to the table were forced to drink, excepting Ol' Chen, who kept watching with a smile.
Finishing up the third cup of Wuliangye, Xing Ming smiled, glancing over the group one more time with an air of docility and tranquility. The last look took an extraordinarily long time, long enough that Sun Wei had turned red with shame and Ruan Ning was anxious enough to sweat. Only Ol' Chen seemed to be holding the crown of victory over his head, feeling aloof and relaxed.
In the end, Xing Ming turned around and walked away. He strode onwards without looking back. When he bypassed a floor-standing enamel vase, he promptly kicked it down.
The vase broke with a crash. When the waiter heard and came, Xing Ming didn't even look at her, only pointed his thumb at the table where Ol' Chen sat. "Put it on his tab."
Ruan Ning followed Xing Ming out of the room, chasing after him with effort, calling, "Boss."
Xing Ming did not look back, saying just one word, "Leave."
"Boss," Ruan Ning persisted in catching up to him, yelling, "Please don't blame Sun Wei and the others. It was because it was Ol' Chen. You know what he's like with his soft power and hidden threats. Nobody dared to refuse him!"
Xing Ming turned his head, calmly staring at Ruan Ning, then asked, "Why didn't you go?"
Ruan Ning chuckled, then with 30-70 flattery and coyness, he reached out to hold Xing Ming's arm, saying, "I am your man while alive, and I am your ghost while dead—"
Xing Ming rudely pushed him away. "I want the truth."
Ruan Ning scratched his head, looked straight into Xing Ming's eyes. Then after a brief silence, finally confessed, "I wanted to go, but they didn't need any more assistants."
"Well, that's better." Instead of being enraged, Xing Ming nodded with no small amount of satisfaction, then raised his hands to beckon to Ruan Ning. "Come, let's go get a drink."
Xing Ming dragged Ruan Ning to the pub on the ground floor of the Guo Mao building, where they had a few drinks. Ruan Ning had originally planned to watch a movie with his girlfriend, but even as it neared the starting time of the movie, he still hadn't found an excuse to escape from the situation. Xing Ming was his direct superior; if his direct boss wanted a drink, he dared not sour the attempt, not that he could stop Xing Ming from drinking even if he wanted to. So he hesitated and hesitated, and meanwhile Xing Ming had already finished a whole bottle of liquor.
"Boss, it's not worth it to get angry over those bastards. Blah! They're greedy and heartless! Getting lured away by Ol' Chen, that pathetic devil…"
Xing Ming hadn't yet drunk his fill when someone approached the pair of them, asking, "Aren't you, Xing Ming, from Pearl Line?"
Xing Ming sat with his head resting on the bar table. He hid his face in his elbow, pretending that he was drunk. Actually, he could handle a couple of drinks. A few cups could not beat him down, but he had a bad stomach. His diet contributed to this problem, since he was the kind of person who would not eat, especially when he was concentrating on his work. Most of the time, he would only carelessly have one meal a day instead of three to feed himself. At this moment, the wine was stirring in his stomach, making his whole body feel burnt up. Xing Ming kept his head down, with his relatively famous face hidden in his elbow. He knew how bad he looked right now and could not afford to lose face over this situation.
The man only badgered him for a little while. Without getting his desired answer, he mumbled and left. Just after Ruan Ning finally sighed in relief, he saw someone in the distance—Yu Zhongye was coincidentally also at Guo Mao for some business meeting, and he seemed to have noticed Ruan Ning.
"Yu-shu!" When he saw Yu Zhongye heading their way, Ruan Ning stood straight with appropriate conduct and respect. Ruan Ning was two years younger than Xing Ming. Although he typically called Yu Zhongye "Yu-shu" like all the other younger employees at the Station, he rarely had the chance to talk to him. He figured that Yu Zhongye didn't know his name, so he hurried to introduce himself. "Yu-shu, I'm from the News Critic Department—"
"You are Xing Ming's assistant, Ruan Ning." Yu Zhongye finished, saying his name.
Having his name called out by Yu Zhongye felt like being favored by the emperor. Ruan Ning was so stunned by his good fortune that he stammered, pointing at Xing Ming's collapsed form. "Yu—Yu-shu… my boss, he drank too much, I haven't been able to wake him up…"
Yu Zhongye interrupted him, saying, "There's nothing for you to do here."
Relieved, Ruan Ning left, hurrying to call his girlfriend before he even left the pub. Xing Ming, still half drunk and half conscious, lay on the bar with his hands covering his stomach, body all curled up. Suddenly, he caught a whiff of cologne mixed with the smell of tobacco and felt a palm pressed against his head.
The hand, which was extraordinarily tender and gentle, paused for a moment. Then, slim long fingers brushed through his hair, petting him.
Xing Ming got into Yu Zhongye's black Mercedes Benz, and he was shocked. For a man with Yu Zhongye's background and position, a Mercedes was way too modest. It should have been something like that flashy Hongqi L5 that had been found on Chang'an Street driving opposite to the one-way flow, or at least an extended version of a Rolls-Royce Phantom.
"Where are you headed? I'll give you a ride," Yu Zhongye said
"Laoshi, can't I go to your place?" Xing Ming had never denied that he was an opportunist. Opportunism: if you had the chance to be a king, then you should never stay a peasant; look to the future, and deal with consequences as they come. If there was only one slim chance of living, Xing Ming would grab hold of it and never let go.
Ol' Chen had become pretty aggressive, showing off the various weapons at his disposal. Chairman Yu was Xing Ming's only hope.
Yu Zhongye gave a short chuckle, telling the driver Ol' Lin, "Drive."
As soon as the car drove onto the street, Xing Ming slapped at the car door and shouted at Ol' Lin, "Stop!"
Yu Zhongye did not make a sound, so Ol' Lin did not dare stop, merely slowed down. Xing Ming ended up opening the door and jumping out of the car. His stomach had become so turbulent that he wanted to throw up, but he would much rather risk breaking his leg by jump and break his leg than risk vomiting in Yu Zhongye's car.
The liquid in his stomach climbed and tumbled like waves. Once Xing Ming put his face near the sidewalk garden on the street, his two legs turned weak and powerless and he kneeled on the ground, vomiting. He vomited to the extent that his mouth was full of the acidity and bitterness of his stomach juices.
The phone in his pocket rang at just the right time. Xing Ming pulled it out and checked the number that appeared. It was his stepfather, Xiang Yong.
After hesitating just over ten seconds, he answered.
Xiang Yong asked, "Your mom and I waited in front of the television for the new episode of Pearl Line. Why isn't there a show tonight?"
Xing Ming explained, "After the New Year festival, the show needed to make some adjustments, so it temporarily stopped for two episodes."
"Your mom went online to check on your official website and it shows that the original host came back, right? So, you won't be the host for Pearl Line anymore?'
"I've worked at Pearl Line for almost a year. I've lost interest in it, so the Station gave me a new show. That's what I'm pursuing," Xing Ming continued to explain in a relaxed tone. Pearl Station had already made an announcement, which stated that the host of Pearl Line had been changed back to Zhuang Lei. Xing Ming guessed that it was because of Yu Zhongye's influence that the Station wasn't being harsh to him, for the announcer did not mention anything about the paid actors incident, only claiming that the return of Zhuang Lei had been prearranged on the schedule, while Xing Ming was preparing for a new show.
"Were the two bottles of Lafite you took last time enough? If not, I still have some."
"One was smashed, while the other wasn't opened. I'll bring it back when I have some time to spare. It would be a waste if I just kept it at my place."
"Next Saturday is the anniversary of your father's death. How about coming back on that day?" Xiang Yong was undeniably a considerate stepfather. Even after many years, he had never forgotten about Xing Hong's death anniversary, and he even seemed to care more about it than Xing Ming, whose father had been Xing Hong.
"I probably won't make it. I haven't had much time for the preparation work for my show of late, so I'm in a race against time."
"Your mother is beside me right now; don't you want to talk to her for a bit?" Xiang Yong asked anxiously.
"Xiang-shu," Xing Ming was silent for a moment, then continued, "okay."
Xiang Yong was Xing Ming's stepfather, and he had not only married a woman who had been another person's wife, but he had also raised her son as if he was his own child. The most fashionable way to describe this man would be by calling him jiepanxia, a "hero" who'd taken up the metaphorical platter from a previous man in taking care of his leftover wife and child. The word fit especially well for Xiang Hong, considering he was the self-sacrificing type. Therefore, Xing Ming had always appreciated his stepfather, and he'd never spoke a word against their marriage, which had been viewed as "a flower paired with bull shit" in the sense of a woman who was debased by the man she was with. Despite bystanders' disdain, Xing Ming was always sincere in calling Xiang Yong uncle with the title of "Xiang-shu."
Xiang Yong and Tang Wan had been originally neighbors and classmates. After middle school, they had gradually separated, with one not graduating and the other an alumna of a renowned university. Xiang Yong did not have a handsome appearance, with a fat face, a height just short of 5 foot 7 inches, and a slight but perpetual slouch to his posture. Meanwhile, Tang Wan had been born beautiful. Everyone said that true beauty came from the inside, from a certain composure and confidence that outshone outward appearances. But when Tang Wan had been young, she had been flawless both inside and out. Even in the modern entertainment circle, few could compare.
Love had always been a senseless thing. To Xiang Yong, Tang Wan was the "girl of his heart" and his "dear, beautiful classmate." Meanwhile, to Tang Wan, Xiang Yong was just a familiar face. However, opportunity always favored those with prepared minds. Xiang Yong was not good at studying, but he was clever and adaptable. After middle school, he ran his own business and, within a couple of years, earned enough money for a BMW to replace his previous household treasures. He'd been among the first group of nouveau riche after the Chinese economic reform.
At that time, news of Xing Hong's case had just taken the city by storm. The City Procuratorate had accused Xing Hong, who'd been the Economic Daily journalist, of bribery and rape. Under public prosecution, the Intermediate People's Court finally gave Xing Hong a sentence of ten years in prison for both crimes. While her husband was imprisoned, Tang Wan constantly appealed to higher authorities for help, but no miracles answered her prayers. Only Xiang Yong offered aid in their troubled times. He hired lawyers, built connections, and paid for everything with his own money.
Xiang Yong had married early. His wife, Li Xiuhua, was also quite beautiful, and his son, Xiang Xiaobo, was two years older than Xing Ming. When he supported Tang Wan so ardently, he hadn't held any ulterior motives expected no recompense. Later, it had been only a coincidence that he'd divorced his wife and remarried.
Xiang Yong claimed that his marriage to Li Xiuhua had stagnated long before Tang Wan had appeared; their fights with each other had become so fierce that the local police station had needed to get involved multiple times—even the neighbors could corroborate. Still, Xing Ming had suffered from reputation of being "the son of someone's mistress" for the next ten years.
While Xing Hong had still been in prison, Tang Wan had already proposed a divorce. From a moral standpoint, Xiang Yong had been the savior of Xing Ming's whole family, but, while he could not oppose his mother's decision to repay the debt with herself, he could not forgive it.
No more than two months after Tang Wan had remarried, Xing Hong had died in prison. Xing Ming, who'd been taking an exam, had accompanied his mother to claim his father's corpse. He personally witnessed the naked corpse of his once tall and handsome father lying in the morgue, having been reduced to something thin and weak and twisted, curled up like a fetus in the womb. His face had been swollen and puffy, his mouth and nose bloodied, with many bruises on his body.
The cause of death report that came from the police stated that he had been taken by a sudden heart attack.
Tang Wan, newly married, had decided to wave goodbye to the past. Without fight or protest, she had accepted her new reality.
To say that Xing Ming hadn't been forgiving was an understatement. As a teenager, Xing Ming had resolutely believed that he hated her, but that sort of emotion, trussed up all in his heart, was too deep, too heavy. It made it feel as if there was always a pounding, hammering sound deep in his heart, so loud that it frightened him.
Tang Wan grabbed the phone from Xiang Yong, asking her son if everything had gone well for him. Her care and concern were obvious, but Xing Ming's responded superficially, "I'm fine, I'm okay. Everything is fine."
Online gossip spread quickly. After Fated to be with You, Xing Ming became a hot topic again. Xing Ming hadn't gone online the past two days, not because he was too afraid of confrontation, but because, even without seeing the comments online, he understood that, for all the praise he had received in the past, there would be just as many complaints and insults for him now.
Seeing those comments, Tang Wan had been really startled. She wanted to keep asking him more questions, but she knew her own son well and, after a few evasive answers, understood she would not be successful. At the moment, Xing Ming seemed so unruly and stubborn that it was easy to see how ill-tempered he'd been when he was in his teenage years. His rage had since been masked well by a myriad of honors and prizes, but around the time of Xing Hong's passing, he often got into lethal fights, perpetually carrying various wounds and injuries. Once, when two high school kids mentioned his dad, he fought them and received a four-inch-long wound from the glass they'd broken. It had been June, and Xing Ming never mentioned it when he got home, just let it fester and get infected. The infection almost killed him.
Tang Wan had gotten used to living with her son in this lukewarm way that was neither familial nor close. She knew that this was probably the best that Xing Ming could do.
Throughout all these years, that pounding, hammering sound weighed down her son's heart, and Tang Wan could hear it too.
In the end, she told him that if he didn't struggle to meet his goals so resolutely, then he wouldn't be Xing Hong's son, but that if his struggles were too much, he could always come back home.
Hanging up Tang Wan's phone call, Xing Ming held his stomach and crouched for a while, next to the pile of filth on the ground that he'd just vomited. His eyes felt uncontrollably hot and sore. He had to admit that he had not been this drunk in a long time. His stomach hurt so much.
Then he raised his head and saw Yu Zhongye's Mercedes parked at the side of the road. Though he wasn't able to see the man inside that black car, he imagined that Yu Zhongye was watching him right now.
Xing Ming stood up and tidied his suit, then stepped towards the black Mercedes.
"Are you alright?" asked Yu Zhongye.
"Yeah." Xing Ming got into Yu Zhongye's car again, then pulled down the window, explaining, "I was reeking of alcohol. I needed some fresh air."
Yu Zhongye lifted his head and closed his eyes. Xing Ming sat docilely by his side and kept looking out of the window.
The city lights were blazing and brilliant, making the world spin around. The rest of the trip was filled with silence.
After several twists and turns, the black Mercedes finally managed to drive into a gated community of luxury villas. Yu Zhongye did not seem to be fond of big cities and crowds and had settled his home a couple of districts away from downtown. From a distance, the area looked quietly elegant, like a piece of amber buried in a bush of rich greenery.
The last time Xing Ming had come, he'd gotten lost for nearly twenty minutes. Then, after the whole business with Yu Zhongye, he'd struggled with legs that refused to close after his brutal fucking, stumbling to find the underground garage before he'd driven himself home.
Last time, Yu Zhongye hadn't let him stay overnight.
The car pulled up. Before Yu Zhongye went upstairs, he told Ol' Lin, "Wash the car."
Why the hell would he wash his car so late at night? Xing Ming was surprised, but a few seconds later he realized that Yu Zhongye was probably a neat freak, probably disliked the smell of alcohol and vomit, fearing that they would stain his car.
Without looking back, Yu Zhongye added, "Wash him too."
Ol' Lin obediently opened the water valve and pointed the nozzle of the car-wash hose at Xing Ming—Xing Ming didn't even have the time to react before a stream of freezing water punched him in the face.
It felt as if the stream of water was going to damage his retinas, and he instinctively cried out, only to choke on another blast of water. His mind froze again, then limped to the side in hopes of dodging, but it was futile, and he couldn't avoid Ol' Lin's watery attack.
"Are you fucking crazy? Are you both out of your fucking minds?" Xing Ming was at the limit of his tolerance, and he had finally broken.
The simmering anger of earlier that evening had turned to furious rage, and his shouts became curses. He knew that right now only Ol' Lin was there, which meant he could release all the confusion, all the chagrin and humiliation that he'd hidden in his heart.
He didn't know how long his cursing went on before he suddenly heard a voice say, "What are you swearing about?"
Xing Ming wondered if his retinas had really been jarred loose by the pressurized water. He could hear the voice, but he couldn't see the speaker. When he tried hard to open his eyes, all he could only perceive a blurry white shadow. When he'd lost control of himself, he accused Yu Zhongye of being a crafty old fox without a shred of humanity, of being a shameless old thing, but, as soon as he heard his voice, he woke up.
The first thing out of his mouth was simply, "Laoshi."
"Too much temper." Yu Zhongye began to chuckle. He laughed like a typical Northern Chinese man, with a cheerful, refreshing tone that would captivate all who heard the sound.
It was early spring, and the temperature differential between day and night was significant. Xing Ming felt chilled to his bones, shaking and shivering with his teeth audibly chattering. Then Yu Zhongye put his arms around Xing Ming, and he immediately felt dazed, almost unconscious. Xing Ming held on tight, pressing his face closely into Yu Zhongye's chest, wanting to leech a little heat through the fabric of his shirt.
Yu Zhongye cradled the soaked Xing Ming and stepped through the front door of his villa. He went upstairs and into the master bedroom, throwing him to the bed.
The wet clothes stuck uncomfortably to Xing Ming's skin, and he took it off on his own. Then, he lay on Yu Zhongye's bed without wearing even a thread, his knees propped up and his legs slightly parted. It'd been only a while ago that he'd vomited the entire contents of his stomach out so terribly, and now he had nothing left in his stomach, only the extreme sense of emptiness and fatigue that lingered after the alcohol burned through it all.
His eyes ached badly still, and he could only vaguely see the man in front of him unbuttoning his shirt. Compared to the last time when he'd fucked him even without undressing, at least he showed some more sincerity this time.
The nude male body was close, but the silhouette remained blurred. Xing Ming could barely see the man who was about to couple with him, so he could only reach out, trying to grab him with haphazard groping. He was startled, then, when he found Yu Zhongye's body to be stunningly solid in a way that was rare for someone in his forties, in a way that greatly surpassed even Xing Ming himself, a young man who paid due attention to exercise.
Yu Zhongye grabbed Xing Ming's ankles and spread his legs completely, folding them up so his knees were almost at his shoulders.
The marks of strangulation on his neck were still clear and distinct. Xing Ming remembered the first time he was in Yu Zhongye's bed, the feeling of his abdominal cavity filled to almost to bursting. Absently, he implored, "It hurt…"
"I won't let you hurt today." Yu Zhongye grabbed Xing Ming's chin and lowered his head to kiss him on his lips. "This time, I'll indulge you."
Yu Zhongye kissed him with expertise, and his gentle, dexterous fingers explored deeply into Xing Ming's body. After tender foreplay and preparation, he pressed the tip of his cock against Xing Ming's entrance, and then he patiently entered within.
When the length slid past his inner walls and bottomed out, Xing Ming could not hold back a soft cry, feeling inexplicably filled and fulfilled. This enormous, heated thing stuffing his ass had strangely filled also the void within his empty stomach.
Yu Zhongye leaned down to take Xing Ming's lips again, tongue slipping into his mouth as he began to thrust, prodding repeatedly at the prostate.
This was a man with a sophisticated kissing technique, and he was even more skilled with sex; thus, soon enough, Xing Ming's consciousness began to slip and blur, and the muscles in his thighs began to tremble and twitch as they slipped out of his control. One moment he would be ascending, reaching for his climax, but the next moment he would sink deep beneath the water. In this repeated cycle of rise and fall, he caressed Yu Zhongye's firm chest and elegant back… then slipped to his firm buttock, groping it tightly and forcing Yu Zhongye closer to himself, to keep that length of flesh within him pressed into the depths of his core.
Yu Zhongye frowned, gazing at him, then straightened his torso, slowly pulling out his cock.
As the length inside him gradually retreated from his body, that fatal sense of emptiness flooded him all at once, and Xing Ming squeezed his thighs together and twisted his legs in a futile attempt to keep Yu Zhongye from leaving. He opened his arms completely, searching and begging for an embrace. "Don't go…" he called.
Then, the tears started rolling down.
Yu Zhongye coldly pushed Xing Ming's hands away. Only the head of his cock remained inside, so close to completely separating from the body in front of him. But then, after a short, restorative pause, he suddenly pressed his body down, vigorously thrusting in.
The thrust was so powerful and the accompanying rush so great that it felt almost as if Yu Zhongye had managed to squeeze his balls in as well. Xing Ming cried out sharply in response.
Then, without any warning whatsoever, Xing Ming spilled, his cum coating Yu Zhongye's lower abdomen, sinking and sticking into the tangle of dark hair there.
Completely satisfied by his climax, Xing Ming became was dazed, almost faint, but still clinging persistently to Yu Zhongye, like a drowning man clutching to a piece of driftwood.
Yu Zhongye pulled Xing Ming into his embrace, pressed him beneath his own body, then continued his thrusting. It was even more forcefully considerate this time, and the sticky, obscene noises that came from the point of their joining sounded lewdly mortifying.