Obediently, Lean on my Shoulder - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The guesthouse by the shore of Erhai Lake was Teng Ming’s suggestion; he had seen an introduction to it on a certain website before.

Seeing it in person now, it truly lived up to its reputation. The color scheme was primarily blue, and the decoration style was minimalist. Since it was currently the off-season, the guesthouse owner offered to upgrade Teng Ming and the others to a luxury room on the second floor for free. However, Teng Ming insisted on staying in the first-floor room they had originally booked; although it was smaller, opening the window allowed him to hear the rhythmic sound of the Erhai water swaying.

While Fan Ye was packing their things, Teng Ming opened the window and sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the deepening night over Erhai.

Teng Ming thought of the kiss by the roadside just now, and then of the passionate kiss Fan Ye gave him right after walking into the room, as well as the strength in his hands…

In fact, they had not had this kind of contact for over a month.

This was also the necessity of proposing the trip; however, that inexplicable awkwardness had finally been dissolved.

Fan Ye was 28 years old and Teng Ming was 25. Men of this age are at a time of strong desires, so why had they not had relations for over a month?

The matter started a month ago.

It was mid-August then, and Shanghai was sweltering it was the middle of summer vacation. Because Teng Ming was preoccupied with playing, he had delayed his manuscript submission deadline. He was flustered by his editor’s urging and troubled by the plot conception, so he had almost no mood for “that matter.”

But at that time, Fan Ye seemed to have a very high “sexual interest” and wanted it almost every night, even though he had already vented at the gay film set.

Teng Ming found it hard to understand why Fan Ye had such vigorous energy and expressed concern that his body wouldn’t hold up if he did that kind of thing too much.

Fan Ye also expressed that it was because he loved him that he constantly wanted to have relations with him.

In the beginning, once or twice, while Teng Ming was writing, Fan Ye would go over to “harass” him. Teng Ming was very cooperative; after all, it would be a pity to let such a sexy boyfriend go to waste.

But later, Teng Ming became impatient and even lost his temper, because once he started doing that with Fan Ye, it would delay at least two hours of his time.

How could it take so long? The actual time they “did it” was only half an hour.

It was because Teng Ming had procrastination issues, and once he started playing, he would forget about serious business.

Fan Ye’s peak period for sexual desire was between 9:00 PM and 12:00 AM, but coincidentally, this time was Teng Ming’s peak period for creative work.

After being yelled at twice, Fan Ye stopped disturbing Teng Ming.

Teng Ming wrote in the bedroom, while he played games or watched movies in the living room.

This was not yet the trigger point for the estrangement.

During summer vacation, students were on break, and traffic on major websites grew significantly. Traffic on “short video” websites was the same, and for a time, demand exceeded supply.

The headquarters of the company Fan Ye worked for was in Japan. Although they had always been “playing on the edge” (skirting the law/taboos), they took corresponding measures regarding this high-demand situation, such as inviting contracted actors to Japan for location shoots.

Fan Ye had excellent natural qualities and was a rare “top” so naturally, he was selected.

Teng Ming was busy submitting his manuscript and agreed to Fan Ye going to Japan.

The industry in Japan is more developed than in China; many college students, and even adult high school students, choose to film these kinds of movies for the compensation, while some are naturally gay and enjoy being taken care of by a high-quality “senior.”

After Teng Ming submitted his manuscript, he met with his “Fujoshi” close friend, Lin Yida, for dinner.

After chatting for a while, Lin Yida brought up erotic topics and told Teng Ming that she really liked the recent film his boyfriend Fan Ye had released, mentioning that the plot was actually quite good.

Teng Ming felt it was a novelty; rarely do “meat-selling” gay films have a good plot, let alone one starring his own boyfriend. After returning home that night, Teng Ming downloaded the film.

The film focused on tenderness; even the bed scenes were very implicit, without the typical close-ups of specific parts.

There were also no exaggerated sexual performances from the actors.

The plot was roughly about an employee who came to Japan for work and fell in love with a college student, but later the employee fell for someone else, and the college student was in immense pain…

Fan Ye played the employee, and the one playing the student was likely a local Japanese college student.

The entire film was nearly an hour long with only two bed scenes. They were not prominent and didn’t even show major parts, yet they served as brilliant highlights.

The final scene was the student crying in the rain; the employee eventually returned, holding him and kissing him in the rain.

It was a bit cliché a Happy Ending (HE).

Teng Ming closed his laptop. It was indeed a film with a good plot, but why did he feel so unsettled?

Because he saw something different in this film Fan Ye seemed to have truly been moved.

You could say he acted well with that kind of high-sounding praise but as a writer, Teng Ming had an ability to capture details and see through things.

This sensitivity was sometimes not just random thoughts, but a genuine perception.

Teng Ming began to reflect on whether he had made a mistake on his end that led to this happening. In fact, sometimes, emotional betrayal is much more serious than physical betrayal.

Thinking it over, he felt it was because he had been too busy rushing manuscripts recently, thereby neglecting Fan Ye.

Could it be that Fan Ye did this on purpose for him to see, to punish him for his coldness and make him jealous?

He hoped so.

Teng Ming stopped overthinking. He opened his phone and saw that the WeChat chat log with Fan Ye had stopped the night before last. He had asked Fan Ye if he was adjusting to Japan; Fan Ye said he was doing well, sent him a photo of himself eating ramen, and said he wished Teng Ming was by his side.

In that photo, Fan Ye was as handsome as ever, with a slightly “rogue” look when he smiled.

Teng Ming suddenly felt he missed Fan Ye very much.

He took out his phone and dialed Fan Ye’s number; the call log stopped a week ago. But in the end, he still didn’t make the call.

Just sleep! Perhaps he was only overthinking because he was too tired.

He always felt that no matter how big or small the matter, it would become easier to handle after a night’s sleep.

After sleeping for a short while, he heard the phone ring.

Teng Ming got up and picked up the phone. Seeing the caller ID was a Japanese number, he hesitated for a moment and did not answer. Not only did he not answer, but what he absolutely should not have done was hang up directly and put his phone on airplane mode.

The room was dark. He lay on the bed looking at the ceiling, at the light shining in from the window, and a question suddenly popped into his head: What is the meaning of his life now?

At that time in Japan, after Teng Ming hung up the phone, Fan Ye felt something was wrong. After some time, he used his own phone to call, but couldn’t reach Teng Ming through WeChat voice or QQ voice.

Fan Ye also knew that Teng Ming didn’t like being disturbed while writing, so he thought about calling again the next day. As it turned out, the call still wouldn’t go through the next day; it was as if Teng Ming had disappeared entirely.

Fan Ye’s heart began to thump with anxiety.

By around 7:00 PM the next day, having still not made contact, Fan Ye called Lin Yida to ask what was going on and told her to go to his house to take a look.

Since their last dinner, Lin Yida hadn’t really contacted Teng Ming. Hearing Fan Ye say this, she also thought it was strange. It suddenly occurred to her: could it be because Teng Ming watched Fan Ye’s new gay film and got jealous or angry?

She shared this doubt with Fan Ye.

Fan Ye broke into a slight cold sweat and told Lin Yida to hurry to his house to check.

Lin Yida grabbed a couple of bites of takeout, then took her bag and ran out. She called Teng Ming, but it prompted the phone to be powered off or unreachable.

Teng Ming and Fan Ye lived together, and Lin Yida had a spare key to their home.

Lin Yida opened the door.

The weather in July wasn’t too hot yet, but the air conditioner was already on in the house. Along with the cool air came a strange smell, and she saw the bedroom door was ajar.

She called out Teng Ming’s name, and then saw Teng Ming, wearing shorts, running out in a fluster.

Lin Yida frowned, feeling both annoyed and amused. She asked what he was doing—had he not been able to resist doing “bad things” (self-pleasure) since Fan Ye had been away for a few days? Saying this, she walked quickly to the bedroom and opened the door, prepared to “catch him in the act” on the spot.

The bedroom was messy, with clothes and socks tossed everywhere. There were some empty bottles on the rug by the bed; clearly, Teng Ming was the only one at home.

Lin Yida asked him why his phone had been off and told him Fan Ye was going crazy with worry because he couldn’t reach him.

Teng Ming said he just wanted some peace and quiet, so he turned it off.

Lin Yida had a five-year friendship with Teng Ming. She personally felt she knew him well; this guy always kept things bottled up inside and rarely spoke them out, often driving people crazy—sulking and giving the cold shoulder were his specialties. Over the past five years, she had seen Teng Ming date two boyfriends; she hadn’t approved of the other two, but Fan Ye was the one she liked most for him.

Lin Yida advised Teng Ming: if he wanted to continue dating Fan Ye and still liked him, then whatever words or worries he had, it was best to say them out loud instead of playing the vanishing act.

Teng Ming’s nose felt a bit sour. He immediately turned back to the bedroom to put on a shirt, then came out and asked Lin Yida if she wanted to eat something. Lin Yida said not to worry about anything else and to quickly turn on the phone and call Fan Ye back.

To Teng Ming, Lin Yida was sometimes like a trusted older sister; although she was a bit blunt/carefree, she was very principled in many aspects.

Teng Ming went to turn on his phone. Within less than a minute, various SMS notifications for missed calls popped up like crazy WeChat messages, QQ messages…

He was processing the messages and hadn’t had time to reply when Fan Ye’s call came through.

Fan Ye started with a burst of angry scolding, mixed with worried words.

Teng Ming suppressed the surge of emotion inside him, apologized calmly, and said he just wanted some quiet after writing.

After these words, both sides were silent for a few seconds.

Fan Ye suddenly said, “There is really nothing between me and that young boy, you have to believe me. We are just ordinary filming partners, just like other actors normally are.”

Teng Ming sighed and said, “I didn’t say there was anything between you.”

Fan Ye was suddenly at a loss for words; indeed, his explanation seemed like a case of “the lady doth protest too much” (explaining too much when not accused).

Teng Ming told Fan Ye to take care of himself and hung up the phone on the pretext that Lin Yida was there.

Lin Yida originally wanted to say more words of persuasion to Teng Ming, but on second thought, this was a matter between the two of them, and it wasn’t good for her to say too much now. So she said nothing and just clamored for Teng Ming to cook for her.

Lin Yida had always believed in Teng Ming’s culinary skills and often said that Tauruses are not only gourmet but also good chefs. She didn’t leave until she had eaten to her heart’s content.

In Japan, Fan Ye looked at the handsome Japanese youth across the dining table; he felt a surge of discomfort in his heart and subsequently made an excuse to leave early.

This Japanese youth was the one from that “employee and college student romance” film.