Chapter Text
Liu Qingge stared at the small mirror hanging from a rusty nail in his bedroom for the tenth time that morning. He raked his fingers through his shoulder-length hair and tied it back into a low ponytail, checking to make sure the styling cream was doing its job—sleek and smooth, not a single strand out of place. Anything less than perfection was not allowed, not today.
Today was Monday, which marked the last week of Shen Yuan’s deployment at Zhao Hua Inc., where he’d been shadowing Liu Qingge in his work as patrol and surveillance officer. It also meant that it was Liu Qingge’s last chance to confess his feelings.
They both worked at Cang Qiong Security Corp. Liu Qingge typically handled fieldwork and was often deployed to various sites across the city, while Shen Yuan, a cybersecurity specialist, usually stayed at headquarters.
But a month back, Shen Yuan was sent to Zhao Hua Inc., where Liu Qingge had been deployed after the client changed security providers following a major security breach. Shen Yuan was to shadow Liu Qingge and observe patrol and surveillance operations.
Liu Qingge had hated the idea at first. He was used to doing his rounds at the sprawling eight-hectare complex alone, or with a trained officer, not a pasty desk potato who spent his days tinkering with computers and fiddling with code. Besides, he didn’t think Shen Yuan would be able to keep up, given that he was a nepo hire. A soft, spoiled rich kid who only got his position through his parents’ connections. And to top it all off, he’d had bad experiences with rich people named ‘Shen.’
“Why do you need to follow me around?” he’d asked during Shen Yuan’s first day. “I don’t work with computers.” He dealt with people—watching, listening, interrogating.
“Security breaches often exploit people, not systems,” Shen Yuan explained. “Having first-hand experience of seeing how people move in and out of the facility will help me devise a workable plan for securing Zhao Hua’s digital infrastructure and technological assets.”
“Hm,” Liu Qingge huffed. Not being well-versed in tech, he’d always pictured cyber attackers as nebulous entities lurking behind screens, reaching for their victims through ethernet cables stretching out like ghostly arms. Apparently, there was more to it than that.
Still, he wasn’t thrilled about having his quiet and peaceful patrols disrupted by Shen Yuan’s endless questions and meandering commentary. Liu Qingge made a point of ignoring the chatter and walked without breaking his stride, never once slowing down to let Shen Yuan catch up. Let the spoiled fuerdai learn that not everyone was going to kiss his ass.
Then, on the fourth day, Liu Qingge developed a spontaneous allergic reaction to peaches left in the pantry and went into anaphylactic shock. As he collapsed and thrashed on the floor, throat closing up and life flashing before his eyes, he had the grim thought: Who’ll be the unlucky bastard to find my corpse?
Just as his vision was about to fade, Shen Yuan’s face swam into view, eyes wild but his grip on Liu Qingge surprisingly steady. Then came the sharp prick of a needle on his thigh. Air flooded back into his lungs.
If Shen Yuan hadn’t stumbled upon him in that moment and hadn’t jabbed the EpiPen just in time, Liu Qingge was sure he would’ve died.
From that day on, Liu Qingge owed his life to Shen Yuan, silently vowing to repay his kindness. He started with a thank-you gift of a portable rechargeable fan to combat the hot and humid weather. On their patrols, he slowed down his strides so they walked shoulder to shoulder. When he took his time to listen, he even found Shen Yuan’s rants about the webnovel he was following endearing.
By the end of the first week, Liu Qingge was helplessly in love.
He squinted at his reflection in the mirror. Was it his imagination, did his face look bloated? Was that a pimple? Mingyan was always reminding him to take care of his skin. She’d even bought him facial wash, moisturizer, and sunscreen. But more often than not, Liu Qingge forgot to use them. Unlike his sister, it’s not like he had auditions to go to and people to impress on screen.
Now, staring at a suspicious dot on his chin, he regretted that choice. There were other questionable marks too, but the water spots on the glass, combined with the layer of dust and black oxidation creeping in from the edges, made it hard to tell what was real.
He pressed the side of his fist against the glass to wipe it clean. The pressure proved too much for the old, rusty nail holding it up. A brittle crack sounded as the corroded metal gave up the ghost, followed by a dull thud—then a loud, splintering crash. The next thing he knew, he was standing amidst a glittering pile of shattered glass.
Hurried footsteps echoed from the other side of the apartment. Without knocking, his sister barged into his room. “Ge?! What happened? You okay?”
“This piece of shit mirror fell by itself,” he huffed as he gingerly stepped away from the shards. Luckily, he was wearing socks—slivers of glass and razor-thin fragments clung to the fabric, some on the bridge of his foot. He shook them off and went to retrieve the broom and dustpan, while his sister wordlessly disappeared, returning moments later with the vacuum.
Liu Mingyan tsk-tsked. “Ge… isn’t it seven years of bad luck when you break a mirror?”
“Nonsense.” Liu Qingge placed the shards into an old shoebox and put them aside for recycling. That’s just an old wives’ tale.
But Liu Mingyan pressed on. “It might be worth it to pass by a temple for a cleansing ritual. Chase the bad vibes away. Just in case.”
“I’m busy.” He needed to be out the door in ten minutes if he wanted to catch the bus.
The morning was uneventful. Liu Qingge and Shen Yuan did their regular patrol around Zhao Hua’s perimeter, then sat down for a late lunch in the nearly empty cafeteria. Most of the employees were done with their break, leaving only a few lingering stragglers and the cafeteria staff.
“…and once again, that hack Airplane pulls another contrived, rare and holy flower out of nowhere. Of course, Luo Binghe plucks it to save the damsel in distress! The only difference between it and the flower five chapters back is the color. Even the damsel is cut and paste,” Shen Yuan ranted, gesturing wildly with his phone in one hand and a half-eaten onigiri in the other. “Isn’t that outrageous, Qingge?”
“Mhm,” Liu Qingge nodded, not really listening to the rant itself so much as tracking every movement and facial expression Shen Yuan made. He was so cute when he was on one of his tirades, cheeks flushed with passion and face cycling through a myriad of emotions. Liu Qingge’s heart skipped a beat, his stomach wound so tight he was about to be sick.
“Bad author,” he remembered to add. Even with his strained voice, the comment earned him an approving smile.
A lull settled between them as Shen Yuan went back to eating his onigiri. Liu Qingge took a slow, deep breath. In truth, he’d been psyching himself up for the last thirty minutes. Now was his chance to confess. He swallowed the dryness in his throat.
“C-can I tell you something?” Gods, his voice sounded alien to him, like he’s hearing himself from far away. “It's... important.”
Shen Yuan slowly blinked, then straightened his posture. “Sure. What is it?” He set his phone down on the table, face up. A notification popped up, lighting up the screen and displaying the photo of a fluffy black dog.
“Is something the matter, Qingge?”
Liu Qingge sucked in a sharp breath. “I, uh... I’ve been wanting to tell you... I really—”
A fire alarm blared, drowning out his words and piercing his eardrums.
They both jumped at the same time and ran to check the alarm panel. “Fourth floor, east wing,” Liu Qingge said, and then they were off sprinting, taking the stairs two steps at a time.
The acrid smell of smoke hit them the moment they reached the fourth floor. Fortunately, Liu Qingge didn’t feel any heat coming through the walls—whatever was burning, it hadn’t spread far yet. Heart pounding and adrenaline surging, he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall and pushed open the door where smoke was leaking out.
It led to the pantry. A cloud of smoke billowed from the microwave, where the charred remains of a cup noodle sat smoldering inside. An employee stood frozen in front of it, mouth agape in panic.
“Step back,” Liu Qingge said, pulling the man away. He aimed the extinguisher at the microwave and squeezed the trigger. A burst of white foam filled the interior, snuffing out the smoke. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.
Shen Yuan peered into the mess. “I didn’t even know it was possible to burn cup noodles.”
The employee looked at them sheepishly. “I forgot to add water.”
Liu Qingge ended up staying late to file the incident report with the facility director. By the time he came back to the small office he shared with Shen Yuan, it was empty—he’d already gone home.
Monday was a wash, but Liu Qingge vowed to do better the next day.
That night, as Liu Qingge lathered facial foam in front of the bathroom mirror, his fingers caught on a bump. He rinsed the foam away and peered closer—there, on his chin, was a tiny raised dot.
It really was a pimple.
On Tuesday, they clocked out at the same time and walked together to the bus stop. Technically, Liu Qingge’s bus went in the opposite direction, but he didn’t mind. Accompanying Shen Yuan meant a few extra minutes of easy banter, both of them in casual clothes, the stresses of the workday already behind them.
The late afternoon crowd surged around them—a mix of Zhao Hua employees, office workers from the nearby buildings, and students let out of school. From the corner of his eye, Liu Qingge spotted a man pushing through the crowd at speed, using his height and bulk to barrel forward. Without thinking, Liu Qingge threw an arm around Shen Yuan’s shoulders and pulled him in, shielding him just as the man brushed past, knocking into Liu Qingge with a muttered, half-hearted apology.
“Q-Qingge. Thanks.” Shen Yuan’s voice was muffled against his shirt. He was warm, pressed close, and smelled faintly of vanilla shampoo and something sharpier, spicier, that was distinctly Shen Yuan. It made Liu Qingge lightheaded. Then he realized he was still holding onto him. He let go as if burned and stepped back.
They were standing at the edge of the sidewalk, face to face in silence. Shen Yuan stared at the ground, ears flushed red, unable to meet his gaze. The crowd had thinned after the commotion, and passersby gave them a wide berth. Liu Qingge inhaled slowly, trying to steady the rapid beat of his heart.
Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the right moment.
“Shen Yuan, I—”
“ALL-NATURAL, HOME-MADE DOG TREATS! Come get them here for your furbabies!!!” boomed a vendor who had set up shop beside them.
Shen Yuan perked up, and he went towards the lady’s table. “What’s in these?” he asked, crouching to inspect her wares.
The vendor held up a bag of cookies shaped like cartoon bones. “These are made with sweet potato and all-natural peanut butter.” She pointed to another bag. “And these are oat and apple dog bites. I also have Himalayan dog chews made from yak and cow’s milk.”
The treats looked tasty and like any other cookies Liu Qingge had seen at the bakery. “Can I eat them?”
Both Shen Yuan and the lady laughed. “They’re edible,” the lady said. “But they’re bland and the chews might break your teeth.”
“If you want cookies, I’ll buy you some.” The corner of Shen Yuan’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “There’s a famous bakery near our family home. They make cookies. For humans.”
Liu Qingge's ears grew hot. “No need,” he mumbled. He was just curious.
“I’ll buy the Himalayan dog chews,” Shen Yuan told the vendor, taking out his wallet. “How much?”
“200 NTD,” the lady replied as she placed the treat into a paper bag. “Which lucky dog is the treat for?”
Shen Yuan’s face lit up, even as he continued rummaging in his wallet for the correct bill. “Oh, I have a Schip-A-Pom! Schipperke and pomeranian mix. He’s all black and fluffy and very sweet.”
“Must be the goodest of good bois.”
“He is! Just the other day—”
A man bumped into Shen Yuan, making him gasp and sending him careening into Liu Qingge’s side. In the blink of an eye, Shen Yuan’s wallet was swiped from his hand. The perpetrator ran in the opposite direction of the bus stop.
“Thief!” Liu Qingge shouted as he gave chase, gritting his teeth. Him, a security officer, allowing a robbery to happen right under his nose! Unacceptable. The thief bumped and collided against the other pedestrians, earning him disgruntled curses, but he was surprisingly nimble. Liu Qingge took out his whistle and sounded it; the crowd obediently parted, smoothing the way. Even then, it took until the end of the street for Liu Qingge to catch up to him.
“Stop!” he said, grabbing the man. In one swift motion, he whipped him around and twisted the thief’s arms behind his back. Up close, the perpetrator was less a man and more of a teenager. A good-for-nothing high school delinquent, possibly a gang member, he decided. He narrowed his eyes and said in his most menacing voice, “Give the wallet back. Or else.”
The teenager quailed under his gaze. Good. Liu Qingge was going to teach the punk a lesson. The thief fished out the wallet from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to him.
“Qingge!” Shen Yuan shouted behind him. He caught up to them and bent forward at the waist, hands braced at the knees, chest heaving. “What happened?” he wheezed.
“I got your wallet back.” Liu Qingge handed it to him. Then he shook the boy for good measure. “Let’s take him to the police.”
The boy paled. “No, please! Anything but that!” He looked between Liu Qingge and Shen Yuan, tears welling up in his eyes. “I gave the wallet back! We’re even.”
Liu Qingge shook him again. “Stealing is a crime.”
“I only did it this once, I swear! I just really needed the money.” The boy’s voice cracked, and tears really did start to fall. Pathetic. Did this kid think his phoney act would work?
“You can explain at the police station.”
“Wait!” Shen Yuan’s voice cut through. “Let’s hear him out. He’s just a kid.”
Liu Qingge huffed and leveled the sniveling boy a glare. “Speak.”
“It’s my little sister’s birthday today.” The boy sniffled. “We don’t have money, but I wanted to make her day special. Please.” More tears. “There’s no one to look after her. Our parents, they’re useless.”
Liu Qingge shook him harder. Who would believe such an obviously manufactured story? He looked at Shen Yuan, expecting him to roll his eyes.
To his surprise, Shen Yuan placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re a good big bro. I’ll give you money to buy your sister a cake and a present, so don’t steal anymore, hm?” He opened his wallet and took out five 1,000 NTD bills. “Qingge, let go of the boy so I can give these to him.”
Liu Qingge stared at Shen Yuan in disbelief, but he did as he was told. The boy took the money, gazing at Shen Yuan like he was some superhero. He’d better be grateful—it was enough money to buy several cakes and more than a few toys and clothes.
“Thank you so much, sir! This helps a lot!”
“Don’t get yourself into any more trouble, hm?” Shen Yuan said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Now run along. Your sister’s waiting!”
The boy nodded and went on his way. After he crossed the street, he glanced behind him a final time and waved at them. Shen Yuan waved back.
“By the way, thanks for retrieving my wallet,” Shen Yuan said, turning to Liu Qingge. “You ran after the thief so quickly, even before I realized my wallet was gone.” He chuckled. “As expected of the indomitable Master Liu.”
Warmth crept up Liu Qingge’s cheeks. “No prob. It was a lapse on my part. Sorry.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. It was my fault I was distracted.”
Liu Qingge shook his head. “I can’t believe you’d reward a thief for robbery.” That’s almost half a month’s rent in a cheap hovel.
“If it’s money, you can always earn it back. But the joy of a childhood birthday? Can’t put a price to that.”
“You believe the boy’s story?” Seriously?
Shen Yuan smiled, an expression so soft it made Liu Qingge’s heart skip a beat. “He could be lying, he could be not, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed like a good kid. Just backed into a corner by circumstances, making desperate choices to survive.”
Liu Qingge was taken aback, warmth blooming in his chest. He’d known a few snooty rich people who thought themselves above it all, who looked down on commoners and poor people. Who thought that their donations to charities gave them the moral upper hand. But Shen Yuan was different. He may be a fuerdai, but he was down-to-earth, approachable, and compassionate. It shouldn’t be possible, but Liu Qingge found himself falling deeper in love with Shen Yuan than ever before.
So many emotions were bubbling out of him, they threatened to burst through his ribcage and spill on his tongue.
“Shen Yuan, listen.”
Shen Yuan met his gaze with wide eyes. The words tumbled out of Liu Qingge’s mouth. “The truth is, I—”
The blare of a car horn ruined the moment.
A black Porsche 911 glided to a stop at the curb. With a soft hum, the front passenger window lowered.
“Jiu-ge?!” Shen Yuan gasped when he saw the person in the driver seat. “Why are you here?”
“Xiao-Yuan, clearly you’ve learned nothing in the 25 years you’ve been alive.” Shen Jiu ignored Shen Yuan’s question. “Ridiculous. If you actually drove, you wouldn’t have been accosted by that thief.”
“You saw that?” Shen Yuan said.
“Obviously,” Shen Jiu sniffed, shooting Liu Qingge a scathing glance. “Letting a robbery slip right past you, brute? Why even call yourself a security officer? If the light had turned green sooner, I would’ve run the thief down myself.”
Liu Qingge clenched his jaw and bit back a retort, his instinct to defend himself warring with his desire to keep the peace, for Shen Yuan’s sake. The animosity between him and Shen Jiu went back to university, where they constantly butted heads over access to the practice rooms. Shen Jiu had lorded his wealth and status over Liu Qingge and his teammates at the judo club, claiming he had more right to the facilities because of his family’s significant donations to the school.
And there was that one time when Liu Qingge had done him a huge favor. Shen Jiu had conveniently forgotten about it, brushing it off like it never happened.
From that day on, Liu Qingge held disdain for any rich young upstarts, especially those named ‘Shen.’
Or he did, until he met Shen Yuan.
Back on the street, Shen Jiu tapped his long manicured nails against the steering wheel.
“Xiao-Yuan! Get in the car.”
“But—”
“You want me to leave you to public transport?”
“Jiu-ge—”
“Don’t Jiu-ge me. If I leave you alone, I’ll end up planning your funeral.”
Shen Yuan glanced at Liu Qingge, as if asking for permission. With a tilt of his chin, Liu Qingge urged him to accept the ride. He hated to admit it, but this time, Shen Jiu was right. Not only had Liu Qingge been unable to protect Shen Yuan, but a rich second-gen was a prime target for hoodlums. It was safer for Shen Yuan to commute in a private car.
“Jiu-ge, can you give Qingge a ride home as well?”
Liu Qingge said, “I still have errands.” It was only a half lie. No way he was boarding that snake Shen Jiu’s car. “Go ahead without me.” They were holding up traffic.
With an apologetic smile and a final thank you to Liu Qingge, Shen Yuan slid into the passenger seat. Liu Qingge watched them drive off, defeat stealing into his chest. Today didn’t live up to his expectations, but he still had the rest of the week to make his confession. He’d try harder tomorrow.
Sighing heavily, he started the long walk back to his bus stop.
Wednesday.
In the cafeteria, Liu Qingge and Shen Yuan were enjoying a peaceful lunch.
“I’m sorry about Jiu-ge yesterday,” Shen Yuan said sheepishly. “The incident wasn’t your fault. He’s just overprotective.”
“Your brother,” Liu Qingge started. “Why is he…” a cunt “like that?” He gestured at the air. How could two brothers, with the same upbringing, have so little in common?
Shen Yuan let out a soft laugh like tinkling bells. “Oh. You’ll have to excuse Jiu-ge’s behavior. He’s still not over the kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping?” Liu Qingge’s brows rose up his hairline. This was new.
Shen Yuan leaned in from across the table, voice low. “Not many people know about this, but Jiu-ge and I were kidnapped when we were in first grade. While the getaway car stopped for gas, Jiu-ge let me escape while he diverted the kidnappers’ attention. He was supposed to follow, but he was caught.” He gulped, his gaze going unfocused at the memory. “After that, our parents paid the ransom but the kidnappers never brought him back. We all thought he was dead, then nearly a decade later, he arrived at our doorstep.”
Liu Qingge sucked air between his teeth. He hadn’t known about this dark history of Shen Jiu. “What happened, during those ten years?”
Shen Yuan leaned back against his chair and blew out a heavy sigh. “Jiu-ge doesn’t like talking about it. That’s between him and his therapist. But from the bits and pieces I’ve put together, it was a hellish existence.” His lips pressed into a grim line. “He’s doing better now, though. Ever since he started working at Cang Qiong Security.”
Liu Qingge shook his head in sympathy. For once, he actually felt sorry for the arrogant bastard.
Talk about Shen Jiu’s sombre past dampened the mood. Desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere, Liu Qingge blurted out, “I still don’t buy that you and Shen Jiu are twins. You look nothing alike.”
He was rewarded with a quiet chuckle. “We get that a lot. But we actually looked pretty similar until our second year of university. That year, I got an eye infection and stopped wearing contacts.” He tapped the frame of his eyewear. “Glasses are more comfortable for me, anyway. Jiu-ge grew his hair out, and I kept mine short.” He swept the bangs from his eyes, his cropped bob neatly framing his face. The gesture was oddly familiar, echoing Shen Jiu in some distant way.
“How come I never saw you at school?”
Shen Yuan blinked, like Liu Qingge’s question puzzled him. “I did go to a different university…”
Liu Qingge’s faced heated with embarrassment. Of course, that was the most obvious explanation. For some reason, he’d imagined twins to be inseparable—born together, growing up side by side, studying at the same schools, working at the same place. After all, even Shen Jiu worked at Cang Qiong Security, heading some executive committee Liu Qingge couldn’t understand the purpose of. Most days, he just seemed like a fixture in President Yue Qingyuan’s office, as much a part of the decor as the paintings on the CEO’s wall.
There were only ten minutes left until lunch break ended, but Liu Qingge was still gathering courage to confess. Fortunately, he’d brought a secret weapon.
He cleared his throat, pulled a clear plastic package from his jacket, and slid it across the table. “For your dog.”
Shen Yuan’s face lit up with delight. “The Himalayan dog chews from yesterday! I never did get to buy them.” He pressed his palms together. “This makes me so happy! I’ll pay you back.”
A warm thrill shot up Liu Qingge’s spine. Just then, his phone buzzed on the table, vibrating insistently.
“No need to pay,” he said, ignoring it. “It’s a gift.”
“Really? That’s so generous of you. Thank you, Qingge.”
Seeing Shen Yuan’s smile, bright and sincere, gave Liu Qingge the push he needed. “Shen Yuan, there’s something—”
His phone buzzed again and almost slid off the table from the force of the vibration. Irritated, Liu Qingge grabbed it and glanced at the screen. An unknown number.
Shen Yuan tilted his head. “Uh, maybe you should answer? Could be an emergency.”
Liu Qingge didn’t want to, but what if Shen Yuan was right? He sighed. “I’ll be quick,” he muttered, and picked up the call.
“Who’s this?”
“—anty. Our records show it may be expiring soon.”
“I didn’t catch that. Repeat yourself.” Remembering his manners, he tacked on, “Please.”
There was a pause before a chipper voice came on the line.
“This is Lu Liu, and we’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty. Our records show it may be expiring soon, and we’d like to help you renew it.”
“What?”
Across the table, Shen Yuan caught sight of someone on the other side of the cafeteria. His face became animated and he waved enthusiastically. Liu Qingge turned his head to look but the newcomer was directly behind him, obscuring their form.
The robocaller continued, “You should've received a notice in the mail about your car's extended warranty eligibility. Since we've not gotten a response, we're giving you a final courtesy call before we close out your file.”
Shen Yuan gestured at Liu Qingge to excuse himself, stood from the table, and went to greet his friend.
“Wait—” said Liu Qingge.
“—To speak with a warranty specialist about possibly extending or reinstating your vehicle's warranty, press 1.”
Vehicle warranty? He didn’t even own a car!
“—Press 2 to be removed and placed on our do-not-call list.”
Liu Qingge jabbed at “2” on the screen and immediately dropped the call. When he turned to look for Shen Yuan, he was already gone from the cafeteria.
He received a Whatsapp message a few minutes later.
Sorry!🙏 I called for backup this morning so Shang Qinghua came.
There’s an issue with the servers that we’re troubleshooting now 😩
We’ll probably be staying late, so go ahead without me!😊
Shang Qinghua. Liu Qingge vaguely remembered him as being in the same department as Shen Yuan. His shoulders sagged. The opportunity to confess slipped through his fingers once again. And if he were totally honest, he felt a niggling jealousy at Shen Yuan’s easy smiles around Shang Qinghua, at the way his face had lit up with excitement the moment he spotted the other man across the room.
An icy jolt struck his chest. What if Shen Yuan already had someone else in his heart?
He snapped his head side to side, banishing the thought away. There was no use catastrophizing. He needed to focus on his goal and come up with a better plan for tomorrow.
Tomorrow, for sure. He’d definitely see it through.
Thursday arrived. The work day came and went without much fanfare. But Shen Yuan was still working in the server room and couldn’t join in their patrols. Liu Qingge missed his presence as he roved the corridors of Zhao Hua Inc. alone. What if Shen Yuan had to stay late again? What if his plan wasn’t going to work?
But by the end of Liu Qingge’s shift, Shen Yuan was miraculously waiting for him at their shared office, and they clocked out together.
“Uh, there’s a new café. By the park.” The words spilled out of Liu Qingge’s mouth before his nerves got the better of him. “Wannacheckitout?”
A grin spread across Shen Yuan’s face. “I do! I’ve been meaning to visit the park, too. Perfect.”
Liu Qingge breathed a sigh of relief. Phase 1 of The Plan, complete. “Let’s go.” Before they left the office, he took a quick look at the bathroom mirror and let his shoulder-length hair down from its ponytail. Mingyan had sat him down once right before running out to her next audition and told him to take his hair down, saying he always looked so severe. Today, he wanted to project casual, easygoing.
It was a twenty-minute walk to the park. When they arrived, the park was bustling with students and families with small children enjoying the early summer evening. The air was humid, but not overly so. Stands hawking knick-knacks and stalls offering drinks and treats lined one side of the park.
As they went to take a closer look, an attractive couple strolled by, holding hands. Shen Yuan’s gaze followed them until they disappeared from his line of vision.
“Liu Qingge’s girlfriend must be the luckiest in the world.” Shen Yuan said without preamble. “What’s she like?”
Liu Qingge froze, the question catching him off-guard. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Shen Yuan paused for a moment, blinking. “...boyfriend, then?”
“No.”
“You’re married?!”
“I’m single.” Liu Qingge said, feeling strangely wrong-footed. Why was Shen Yuan so adamant that he had a partner?
Shen Yuan gaped, his eyebrows climbing up his hairline. “B-but… How can that be?!”
Liu Qingge shrugged. “Not interested…” Until now. He’d been in relationships before, but never truly felt the spark. Someone would ask him out, and he’d go along with what they wanted. It was what people did, in high school and college.
“You’re a good guy, but you’re frigid,” his last girlfriend had said. “I love you, but I can’t keep doing this to myself.”
They said goodbye to each other. What she said must’ve been true. Liu Qingge must truly be frigid, because he hadn’t even felt remorse when they broke up. Nothing could thaw his icy heart.
He’d thought the feeling of butterflies in the stomach and other exaggerated metaphors were just fancy turns of phrase. But then he met Shen Yuan, and there was a flutter in his belly, his heart skipped a beat, and warmth bloomed in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of him. This, he realized for the first time, was what it must mean to be in love.
A teenager on her phone nearly bumped into Liu Qingge. He evaded with his quick reflexes, but it was a close call. The teenager mumbled an apology, eyes locking with Liu Qingge a tad too long before walking away.
Liu Qingge turned his attention back to Shen Yuan. He was frowning slightly, a cute little furrow creasing his brow as he mumbled to himself, seemingly deep in thought.
Just a few seconds later, another careless teenager nearly barreled into Liu Qingge. The park wasn’t even that crowded!
Was it his imagination, or were people closing in, and passersby staring at him?
No. Surely, it was just his nerves.
Only a few more steps separated them from the café entrance. From the outside, it had a cozy Ghibli-like feel, creeping vines covering the façade in green and box planters with vibrant flowers decorating the exterior. Liu Qingge’s pulse thundered in his ears. Soon, it would be time for Phase 2 of The Plan. The box of fancy Swiss chocolates he bought yesterday burned a hole in his back pocket.
Beside him, Shen Yuan had been silent ever since Liu Qingge’s declaration of singlehood. Finally, Shen Yuan slowly shook his head, gaze fixed in the middle distance. “Unbelievable…” he muttered. Louder, “Unscientific! To the think that Great Master Liu—”
“Oh my god, it’s really Princess Ai!” a voice cut into the air. Startled, Liu Qingge whipped in the direction of the sound. The teenager who had just barreled into him was pointing directly at him.
“Princess Ai is here!”
The proclamation hit like a siren call. In an instant, people of all ages, from shrieking preschoolers to sharp-elbowed grandmothers stampeded towards them.
Princess Ai was the latest nationwide obsession, star of the hit family-friend drama sweeping across Taiwan. Princess Ai also happened to be played by his sister, Liu Mingyan.
Shit.
There was no time to protest. The crowd was in a frenzy. Without thinking, Liu Qingge took Shen Yuan’s hand and ran.
They dodged joggers with earbuds, oblivious to the chaos; startled dogs on leashes, barking in their wake; cyclists zipping down the shared path; picnic blankets and folding chairs. Once they exited onto the sidewalk, they were confronted by street vendors, parked scooters and shared bikes, tree planters, pedestrians texting while walking, and traffic cones blocking the way.
Shen Yuan looked bewildered, but he held Liu Qingge’s hand tight and did his best to keep up.
Two more blocks and they finally lost their pursuers. Going back to the café was out of the question. Chest heaving and blood pumping with adrenaline, Liu Qingge let go of Shen Yuan’s hand and slowed to stop, right in the middle of a flock of pigeons feeding on the ground. The pigeons startled and flew away. Behind him, Shen Yuan nearly collapsed to his knees, struggling to catch his breath.
“I think we—” Liu Qingge started, only for the world to vanish beneath him as his foot plunged into empty space. For a split-second, his stomach yanked into his throat. And then, there was a massive splash as he hit fetid, murky water that swallowed him like the mouth of hell.
“Qingge!” Shen Yuan’s voice rang above him.
When Liu Qingge looked up, foul water dripping from his hair and tracing cold lines down his face, Shen Yuan was leaning over the edge of a manhole, his face twisted in panic against the backdrop of a purple-orange sky.
He’d fallen straight into a goddamn sewer.
Biting back a curse, he let Shen Yuan haul him back up the ground. He was a little banged up, but at least he hadn’t broken anything even after falling in.
As Liu Qingge wrung sewer water from his clothes and dabbed his face with Shen Yuan’s borrowed hand towel, the chocolate box in his pocket now a soggy ruin of sludge, his thoughts spun in disarray. Why the fuck was there an open manhole in the middle of the sidewalk?! He’d been around these parts before without incident—why only now did he get mistaken for his sister and mobbed? It seemed that every time he attempted to confess his feelings for Shen Yuan, some screw-up or distraction would pop up and ruin his plans.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was cursed.
“Seven years of bad luck when you break a mirror.” Mingyan’s voice surfaced in his mind.
His bedroom mirror fell from the wall and shattered to pieces on Monday. Today was Thursday. He’d been facing setback after setback for four straight days.
If the curse was indeed true, he wasn’t sure if he could endure the frustration and humiliation for seven more years.
Taking pity on him, Shen Yuan hailed a taxi and even paid the driver in advance, despite Liu Qingge’s protests.
“I want you to relax and leave the day’s stresses behind you. Can you do that for me, Qingge?” Shen Yuan said from the other side of the window, once Liu Qingge was in the back seat. How could he say no? Shen Yuan’s gentle voice was like a shot of tranquilizer—Liu Qingge’s head bobbed without his input. He was rewarded with a smile. “Good,” said Shen Yuan, smiling. “See you tomorrow.” The taxi drove off.
“How can I tell if I’m cursed,” he asked his sister at dinnertime.
“Cursed?” Mingyan glanced at him from her salad bowl, eyebrow raised. She paused for a moment, chopsticks in the air, before her eyes widened in understanding. “Did something happen?”
“There’s been… incidents,” Liu Qingge said. “I’m being blocked.” Thwarted at every opportunity to confess to Shen Yuan. He jabbed his chopsticks into his rice bowl.
At his sister’s prodding, he gave her an abridged version of events from the past four days. Mingyan found the story of him and Shen Yuan being mobbed due to a case of mistaken identity amusing.
“Maybe the universe doesn’t want you and Shen Yuan to be together,” Mingyan quipped. At her brother’s stern glare, she tacked on, “Kidding! But these incidents only started when you broke the mirror, right? It wouldn’t hurt to do a cleansing ritual to drive away the bad spirits.”
“You believe that?”
Mingyan shrugged. “It’s interesting to think about. Truth is stranger than fiction, as they say.”
Liu Qingge was reminded of Shen Yuan’s rants about his fictional stories where mass orgies involving impossible appendages, fueled by sex pollen spewing plants, were a regular occurrence. He fervently hoped that nothing stranger than that could be true.
“What should I do?”
Mingyan whipped out her phone and thumbed into the search bar. “Do you still have the shards?”
He grunted in assent. The broken pieces were in the shoebox, waiting for recycling day.
“Good. We’ll start from there.”
They went to a nearby river and buried the shards along its banks and burned incense over the area. They even passed by the family grave to leave offerings of food and drink and pray to their ancestors for protection. Mingyan brought him to a temple where there were statues of two gods—one in white, the other in red.
“Worshipping them together is supposed to bring good luck,” she explained.
When they got home, they sprinkled the apartment with rice and salt. Liu Qingge made sure to scatter a few big handfuls of the rice and salt concoction in his bedroom, even if it made a mess.
Even as he did the motions, Liu Qingge felt ridiculous. He wasn’t superstitious. There was no way some vengeful spirit was sabotaging him just because he broke an old and shitty mirror. Ghosts didn’t exist. He wasn’t even sure if he believed in gods or the afterlife. But it was better to be safe than sorry. They weren’t harming anyone, at least.
He lay wide awake in bed that night, salt and rice coating his sheets, his mind churning strategies for the next day. The jagged grains stabbing at his back were but a small inconvenience. For Shen Yuan, he would endure all this and more.