Chapter 18 I like men

This time, Huai Xu didn’t pull his hand away.  

Thinking about it, compared to worry, he wasn’t really angry at all.  

All he could think was: 

Jing Zhengxuan hasn’t studied medicine. 

What if he accidentally hits a fatal spot while hurting himself like this? 

His concern far outweighed his frustration.  

As for the hospital charade? That was purely to teach Jing Zhengxuan a lesson. 


If he claimed to enjoy being taken care of, 

then let him experience the misery of it.  

Huai Xu fixed his dark, luminous eyes on his childhood friend, solemn and serious. 


“No more deliberately hurting yourself from now on.”

Jing Zhengxuan met his gaze unflinchingly and nodded. 

“I’ll listen to you.”


The driver maintained his professional composure, 

expertly ignoring the conversation.  


When they arrived home, the housekeeper was still cooking. 


Huai Xu tugged Jing Zhengxuan onto the sofa and inspected the wound again.  

“Does it hurt?”


His pupils shimmered like a fawn’s—soft, dark, and brimming with compassion.  

“Not—”


Mid-word, Jing Zhengxuan habitually corrected himself. 

“A little.”

Huai Xu glared, then huffed, 


“Wait here.”


He fetched an ice pack from the fridge and pressed it gently over the bandage on Jing Zhengxuan’s knee. 


“Ice it.” 


His tone was as cool as the pack, but the gesture warmed Jing Zhengxuan enough to curve his lips. 


“Mm.”


---  



At dinner, Huai Xu suddenly asked, 


“What did you mean by ‘habit’ earlier?”


Jing Zhengxuan’s chopsticks paused. 


After a faux-contemplative silence, he replied, 


“Did I say that?”


Huai Xu nodded. 


“You did. Very quietly, right by my ear.”
 

Jing Zhengxuan set down his chopsticks, interlacing his fingers on the table. 


His thumbs circled each other before he said, 


“I don’t remember.”


“Jing. Zheng. Xuan.”


Huai Xu enunciated each syllable, righteous indignation flaring. 


“Did you think today’s incident was over?”


“...”


Jing Zhengxuan pressed his lips together but held firm. 


“Genuinely don’t recall.”


Huai Xu arched a brow. 


“Then let me jog your memory—”

He launched into a meticulous recap—time, location, 


even Jing Zhengxuan’s exact demeanor—leaving zero room for denial.  


Jing Zhengxuan knew he’d have to offer *something* to end this interrogation.  


After a beat, he selectively shared: 


“Remember Shen Youzhi?”

“Who?”

Huai Xu blinked.  

Jing Zhengxuan hesitated. 


“Su Yining?”


Huai Xu rolled his eyes upward, then shook his head. 


“Also… who?”

A flicker of relief crossed Jing Zhengxuan’s face—


subtle, but the tension in his mouth eased.  

He studied Huai Xu, then ventured, 


“Gu Xiao. Remember him?” 

“Gu Xiao…”


Huai Xu murmured, then nodded. 


“This one I remember—”

Before he could finish, Jing Zhengxuan’s brief relief vanished into shock. 


“You remember *him*?”

“Obviously? Why is that weird?”

Huai Xu found his reaction baffling. 


“You fought him as kids. Did *you* forget?”

Jing Zhengxuan: “...”* 

He looked down, paused, then picked up his chopsticks to serve Huai Xu more food. 

“No.”

“Then why act so surprised?”


Huai Xu swallowed a bite, eyeing his friend. 


“What do those three have to do with your ‘habit’?”


Jing Zhengxuan set his chopsticks down again, cleared his throat, and said, 


“They were in our kindergarten.”

Huai Xu gaped. 


“Your memory’s insane. You remember *kindergarten* that clearly?”

Jing Zhengxuan’s cool amber eyes held his, quiet but intense. 


“I remember a lot.”

He remembered how Huai Xu would fuss over every sick classmate. 


Remembered the “patients” Huai Xu always played house with.  

He remembered every kid who’d tried to steal Huai Xu’s attention in elementary school, 


every love letter and confession in middle and high school.  

Jing Zhengxuan didn’t *try* to memorize these things. 


They just branded themselves into his mind—anything tied to Huai Xu.  

Huai Xu stopped eating. He sensed the coming explanation would be pivotal.  

“So,”

he pressed, 

“how do they connect to your ‘habit’?”  

“Mm.” 


Jing Zhengxuan nodded gravely. 


“In kindergarten, you’d dote on anyone who got sick. Those three were part of it.”* 

Huai Xu: “-_-||”

Part of it implied many more.  

Why catalog this?!

It wasn’t just kindergarten—he’d always nursed ailing classmates through school.  

“And?” 

Huai Xu tilted his head.  

Jing Zhengxuan rubbed his nose, then admitted, 


“I wanted… your care too. But I… rarely got sick. So…”  

Huai Xu: “?”

“I’d… create reasons to get hurt. Eventually, it became… habit.”


He punctuated this by serving Huai Xu another bite.  

Huai Xu fell silent, guilt creeping in. 


Maybe if *he* hadn’t been so attentive to others, Jing Zhengxuan wouldn’t have resorted to this.  


Now that he had his answer, Huai Xu felt almost ashamed. 


Jing Zhengxuan cherished him so much, yet he’d made him insecure enough to self-harm—


just for scraps of his attention.  

He resolved to dote on Jing Zhengxuan more, so he’d never feel neglected.  

“You’ve always been my priority,”

Huai Xu said earnestly.  

Jing Zhengxuan’s lips quirked. “I know.”

“Then why pull this stunt?”

Huai Xu grumbled—but inwardly, he understood.  

Jing Zhengxuan had always been possessive. Since kindergarten, he’d demanded to be Huai Xu’s *“number one.”* 


They’d clashed over it endlessly.  

Jing Zhengxuan would scare off anyone who got close, but Huai Xu, warm and sociable, hated how he treated others. They’d fought, even stopped playing together.  

Eventually, Huai Xu realized avoidance wasn’t the solution—he needed to *reform* Jing Zhengxuan.  

So tiny Huai Xu lectured tiny Jing Zhengxuan until they reconciled.  

Back then, Huai Xu thought his plan worked.  

He never guessed Jing Zhengxuan had mastered deception before learning long division.  

Studying his friend now, Huai Xu wondered if Jing Zhengxuan felt insecure again.  

It made sense. 


Before college, they’d been inseparable. 


Now, living apart—one in a dorm, one here—Jing Zhengxuan must’ve struggled with the distance.  

*Friendships need maintenance too.*  

And it *was* his fault for insisting on dorm life, even threatening to cut ties. 


Jing Zhengxuan had probably suffered silently.  

*I failed him.*  


Huai Xu’s gaze grew increasingly tender, increasingly remorseful.  



He piled Jing Zhengxuan’s bowl with his favorite dishes and smiled. 


“Relax, Ah Xuan. You’ll always be my best friend. No one could replace you.”



Jing Zhengxuan: “...”

He hummed faintly, bowing his head to hide his expression.  

Where Huai Xu couldn’t see, Jing Zhengxuan’s smile died. 


Light drained from his amber eyes, his face going blank.  

He ate mechanically, tasting nothing.  

There was a time when being Huai Xu’s best friend felt like the greatest joy.  

Then, one day, it wasn’t enough.  

He started craving *more.*  

He began loathing himself.  

How could he harbor such feelings for Huai Xu?  

He’d fought them for years, but repression only made them stronger.  

Huai Xu, mistaking his silence for emotion, grinned at the crown of his head.  

Then his phone rang.  


Seeing the caller ID, he chirped, 


“Auntie Qing! Wasn’t Ah Xuan’s photo *so* handsome?”  

“Handsome, but not as much as *you*—that boy’s always scowling, wasting his looks,”

Xi Qing teased. 


“Then again, *your* photography skills could make anyone look good.”

Huai Xu laughed sheepishly. 


“Your bias is showing.”



“It’s called honesty,”


she retorted, then asked, 


“Is Zhengxuan there? His phone’s off.”

“Right here.”


Huai Xu passed the phone over.  


Jing Zhengxuan took it reluctantly. 


“Mom.”  

“Oh, so you *do* remember me.”


Her tone iced over instantly.  

Silence.  


Xi Qing inhaled sharply. 


“Did you block my number?” 



“Yes.”


No elaboration.  


She cut to the chase. 


“It’s been weeks. Have you decided?”

Jing Zhengxuan glanced at Huai Xu, gestured to the phone, and retreated to the study, shutting the door.  

Huai Xu watched him go, puzzled. Jing Zhengxuan *never* took calls privately before.  

But they were adults now. Privacy was normal.  

He shrugged and kept eating.  



---  



In the study, Jing Zhengxuan’s voice was steel. “No.” 

Xi Qing faltered. 

“Why not? At least *meet* her.” 

“Won’t.”  

“Then I’ll have Ah Xu convince you.”

She knew he’d obey Huai Xu.  

Jing Zhengxuan pinched his brow—then dropped the bomb.  

“Mom. I like men.”  


 



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