Let Me Meet You chapter 20

I Like Men (Part 3)

After Yang Xu left, Li Xuan kept looking out the window toward the elevator, his neck sore from staring. Finally, he saw them returning, and a strange sense of relief washed over him. He quickly looked down at his phone to hide it.

Sheng Min noticed his reaction, pursed his lips slightly, and guessed that he must be feeling uneasy. He stopped Yang Xu, who was about to get into the car. “You sit in the back.” Then he opened the front passenger door and sat down himself.

Yang Xu froze for a moment, then complied and got into the back seat. Li Xuan frowned and glanced at him.

“Ge,” Yang Xu muttered to himself, thinking that Li Xuan must have been lying to him earlier. Clearly, there was some disagreement with Sheng Min. Otherwise, why would his boss be so on edge?

Luckily, Li Xuan didn’t say much, rubbing a small mole on his wrist before looking back out the window. Yang Xu quickly called the driver and told him to return as soon as possible.

On the drive back, the atmosphere was as tense as ever. The car was unusually silent, and the driver sped up, wanting to drop them off quickly. Yang Xu tried to start a conversation with Li Xuan a few times, but Li Xuan only responded in monosyllables, so Yang Xu eventually gave up.

In contrast, Sheng Min at the front,  seemed the calmest of them all, only occasionally averting his gaze when his eyes met Li Xuan’s in the rearview mirror. Each glance made Li Xuan’s expression darken further.

The driver hurried, and they arrived at the apartment complex in just over twenty minutes.

“Ge, we’re here. Do you need us to walk you up?” Yang Xu asked.

“No need.” Li Xuan responded casually, putting on his hat and mask, and walked straight through the front gate without looking back.

He walked quickly, his coat flaring as he went. He arrived at the elevator just as it reached the ground floor, stepped inside, and pressed Sheng Min’s floor number. But just before the doors closed, he looked back down the hallway, hesitated, and stopped the doors, stepping back out.

He found a spot in the lobby to sit, aimlessly flipping through resumes while keeping an eye on the entrance. But no one appeared, so he locked his phone screen and headed outside. As soon as he stepped out of the building, he ran into Sheng Min.

Sheng Min was slightly startled to see him rushing. They stood about a step apart, close enough to catch the faint scent of lotus leaves in the night breeze—the pond in the complex was filled with lotuses, but this rainy season had brought more leaves than blossoms.

They stood amid the lingering scent, exchanging a brief look, before Sheng Min lowered his gaze and walked past Li Xuan.

They went up in the elevator, one after the other, and entered the apartment.

Li Xuan went straight to the study. Sheng Min thought they should probably talk, but seeing Li Xuan’s cold expression, he felt exhausted. So, he picked up his loungewear and went to the bathroom.

After he showered, night had fully fallen. He glanced at the closed study door, ordered two bowls of congee, and just five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Confused, he opened the door. The delivery man handed him a bag. “Your delivery.”

“That was fast,” Sheng Min said, surprised, as his phone still showed that his order was being prepared. “Are you sure this isn’t a mistake?”

“Nope,” the delivery guy confirmed, double-checking the address. “This is Mr. Li’s order, right?”

“I ordered that,” Li Xuan’s voice came from behind him. He hadn’t approached, probably to avoid being seen by the delivery man.

“Oh, okay.” Sheng Min smiled, taking the bag. “Thank you.”

He closed the door and handed the bag to Li Xuan, noticing it contained two bowls of congee as well. Li Xuan took only one bowl, leaving Sheng Min with the rest.

Sheng Min thought of mentioning he’d already ordered his own food but felt that would be petty, so he said nothing.

Li Xuan, silent as well, took his fish congee and returned to the study. Sheng Min looked at his remaining bowl—sweet osmanthus and lily congee. He didn’t recall ever telling Li Xuan he liked sweet congee, so he figured it was just a coincidence. Smelling the food made him hungry, so he sat down and slowly ate.

By the time he finished and cleared the dishes, the delivery he’d ordered had finally arrived. He put both bowls in the fridge since it was still early and had nothing else to do. Picking up a book, he started reading.

He hadn’t intended to wait for Li Xuan, but by the time he was halfway through, the clock had already passed one o’clock, and the study door remained firmly shut. Sheng Min felt a vague, indescribable emotion.

Not quite anger, but certainly frustration.

It shouldn’t be like this, he thought, propping his head on his hand. He had spent years in the entertainment industry, accustomed to cold treatment. Back when he wasn’t well-known, events weren’t well organized, and he’d sometimes wait in cold recording studios for hours. Yang Xu would get angry, but he would only feel a chill and want to go home. Even when the staff offered half-hearted apologies, he could smile and say, “It’s fine. You’ve worked hard too.”

But now… Sheng Min glanced at the study’s closed door, feeling a strange weight in his chest. He lowered his gaze, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He figured it must be from tiredness.

As he thought about it, sleepiness crept over him. After some consideration, he tossed the book aside, grabbed his pillow and blanket from the bedroom, and threw them onto the couch. He knocked on the study door, his tone even. “I’ll be sleeping in the living room tonight. You can rest when you’re done.”

Li Xuan responded with a simple “okay,” and Sheng Min closed the door. The moment he heard the click of the lock, Li Xuan finally stopped typing.

Expressionless, he rubbed his shoulder, tilting his neck until his bones cracked. The light in Sheng Min’s study wasn’t bright enough, making the computer screen seem harsh in comparison.

He had taught himself programming over the years and developed a lot of bad habits. Recently, he’d worked hard to correct them, focusing on making his code concise and readable. But that night’s work, in his own self-critical words, was more like a tangled mess than clean code.

He didn’t want to admit his mind was in chaos, but the full screen of code in front of him made it impossible to avoid. Closing his eyes in fatigue, he eventually shut down the computer.

In the living room, Sheng Min lay quietly on the sofa, facing the backrest, and didn’t move at all when he heard footsteps, as if he had already fallen asleep in that short time. Li Xuan didn’t turn on the light, groping his way to the bathroom to wash his hair. Somehow, the hair gel didn’t seem to wash out, and after three attempts, he finally felt somewhat refreshed. He dried his hair with a towel and headed to the bedroom.

Of course, he couldn’t sleep, even though it was already 2 a.m. Li Xuan sat up in bed. The bedroom door was slightly open, providing a view of the living room, likely blown open by the wind after he’d left it open earlier.

He leaned against the headboard. Moonlight, soft as water, spilled over the quilt, which was slightly raised on the sofa. Li Xuan remembered that the quilt seemed to be the same light shade of white as his own, with a satin texture that was cool and slippery. Sheng Min appeared to favor this material; the sofa held several pillows of the same fabric. He recalled Sheng Min’s sofa being particularly soft, sinking in when you sat down, and thought to himself that if he slept there for the night, he’d surely wake up with a sore back.

These details, things he’d never paid attention to before, suddenly flooded his mind.

In reality, it wasn’t a big deal. When he was rushing a project, he could sleep slumped in a chair. Going further back, he’d even spent nights under a bridge… It wasn’t about whether he could sleep comfortably. Li Xuan frowned. If he couldn’t sleep, it definitely wasn’t because the sofa was too soft.

He thought this over, his brows furrowing even deeper. He wanted a cigarette but couldn’t remember where he’d left the pack, so he grabbed a cup, intending to take a sip of water, only to find it empty.

Nothing was going right; it all boiled down to one thing.

He took his cup to the kitchen for some water, then sat on the armrest of the sofa.

One second, two seconds… after a minute, Sheng Min threw off his quilt, propping himself up on the sofa, his eyes tired. “What are you doing up in the middle of the night?”

Li Xuan took a sip of water to moisten his lips. “Come sleep inside the room.”

After saying this, he bent down to pick up the quilt. The sofa was narrow, and one corner had already fallen to the floor. As soon as he picked it up, Sheng Min grabbed the other end, and they held it tensely for a moment. Li Xuan spoke with a trace of impatience, “I didn’t say anything, and yet you’re the one acting angry.”

“You haven’t said anything, that’s exactly the problem,” Sheng Min replied calmly.

Li Xuan frowned at him. Sheng Min added, “I’m not angry.”

“Yeah, right.” Li Xuan pulled the quilt away from him, grabbed his pillow, and went back to the bedroom.

With no other choice, Sheng Min resigned himself to the situation and thought of just getting another quilt. However, all the blankets were stored in the bedroom closet. He had no option but to follow him in. He reached for the light switch, about to speak, but then noticed Li Xuan’s hair was still wet. Instinctively, he said, “Why didn’t you dry your hair?”

“Weren’t you asleep?” Li Xuan replied casually.

Sheng Min said, “You knew I wasn’t asleep.”

Li Xuan dropped the quilt on the bed without a word. Sheng Min sighed, went to the bathroom to get the hairdryer, and handed it to him. “Dry it, please. I get migraines, and if you sleep with wet hair, you’ll definitely feel it tomorrow.”

The hum of the hairdryer broke the silence. After saying a few words, the tension between them seemed to dissipate slightly. As Li Xuan ran his fingers through his hair, he suddenly asked, “Why do you like men?”

Sheng Min thought that, true to form, Li Xuan went straight to questions that were hard to answer. But such things don’t really have a reason. In a soft voice, he replied, “I don’t know. Why do you like women?”

Li Xuan’s hands stilled. He thought of answering with something like “gentleness” or “beauty,” but after considering it, he realized that these weren’t qualities unique to women. Most importantly, he hadn’t actually liked any specific woman before.

He’d never loved anyone, and he couldn’t say who he might love in the future.

When Sheng Min didn’t hear a response, he didn’t press further. “It was my mistake not to tell you about this from the beginning. Given our situation, I should have shared this with you.”

“I don’t care about that,” Li Xuan interrupted. “I don’t tell you everything about myself either… I wasn’t silent this afternoon because I was angry. It just came as a surprise, and I needed to think about it.”

“Think about what?” Sheng Min asked.

Li Xuan didn’t respond immediately. Once his hair was mostly dry, he turned off the hairdryer and finally said, “Men with men… Don’t you think…?” He hesitated over the wording. “Isn’t it strange?”

Sheng Min guessed that “strange” wasn’t the word he truly wanted to use and said softly, “Why would it be strange? It’s not like this is unheard of these days.”

Li Xuan remained silent for a few seconds before he said, “I’ve heard of it.”

His voice was low, and Sheng Min sensed something odd in his tone. He glanced at Li Xuan and, suddenly inspired, blurted out, “Did a man ever bother you?”

Li Xuan turned his head sharply, his gaze intense. After a moment, he replied in a low voice, “Not me.”

Not him? Sheng Min frowned. Then who?

He hadn’t sorted out his thoughts before Li Xuan, seemingly unwilling to discuss it further, said, “It’s irrelevant. It’s none of my business. Let’s drop it.”

“So, you wanted to say you find it disgusting, didn’t you?” Sheng Min observed his furrowed brow.

Li Xuan’s back stiffened. “No.”

Sheng Min fell silent, and Li Xuan reached out to turn off the light. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Darkness enveloped the bedroom again, with an invisible boundary separating them, like a river marking their distance. Both lay stiffly, unmoving, as if in separate worlds.

Sheng Min, still mulling over Li Xuan’s words, finally turned slightly, his voice soft. “If you’ve had past experiences that make you feel you can’t accept this, I understand completely. But, if you truly can’t accept it, why did you insist on having me sleep here? Are you trying to bother me, or yourself?”

With that, Sheng Min fell silent.

Li Xuan stared at the ceiling in a daze. He realized Sheng Min was right. Why had he insisted on having him there? He himself found it strange and couldn’t explain what he had been thinking at the time.

Sheng Min, unaware of his thoughts, assumed that Li Xuan’s constant shifting meant he was feeling uncomfortable. Sighing, he said, “All right, this is pointless. Maybe I should go back to the sofa after all.”

He said this and was about to get up, but Li Xuan suddenly put a hand across his shoulder, propped himself up, and pressed him back down.

“Why are you acting so weird tonight?” Sheng Min asked, helpless.

Li Xuan looked into his eyes and suddenly realized why he had insisted on pulling Sheng Min into the room.

He thought about it: Sheng Min was cautious, yet his sexual orientation was known by his assistant and his manager, with whom he had a strained relationship. It was possible that something had happened in the past. Over the years, Sheng Min probably had to endure many disapproving looks because of this. Li Xuan didn’t want his attitude to make Sheng Min revisit bad memories.

But while Li Xuan thought this, his words and actions, in Sheng Min’s eyes, might have meant something else.

“I have a friend,” Li Xuan started. “When he was young, he was molested by someone of the same sex… This incident changed both of our lives almost entirely.”

Perhaps because it involved a third person, Li Xuan kept it brief. Sheng Min didn’t understand the full backstory, and it was clear that Li Xuan didn’t want to explain further. He just pressed firmly on his shoulder. “So, when I found out today, it did feel sudden. But it’s not about the same-sex thing, it just reminded me of some old events. I didn’t handle my attitude well.”

He sighed. “You like men, and that’s not your fault.” Li Xuan paused and then softly added, “It’s not wrong, to begin with.”

Sheng Min slowly lifted his eyes, and Li Xuan lowered his gaze to meet them.

They had exchanged bodies, and now Li Xuan was looking into his own eyes. But what was behind those eyes? Could Li Xuan see his own soul? Could he see Sheng min’s?

Sheng Min suddenly felt both sad and embarrassed.

All the emotions he had tried to hide and ignore seemed to rush in from all directions in that instant, only to disappear the moment they touched Li Xuan’s clear gaze.

Li Xuan let go of him, feeling a bit awkward after having spoken seriously for a while. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’m done. If it’s uncomfortable for you, I’ll go sleep outside.”

He got up from the bed, but the corner of his sleeve was caught by Sheng Min. “If you don’t mind, why should I?”

“Don’t make a fuss.” Sheng Min let go, turned over, and faced away from him. “Let’s just sleep.”

Li Xuan didn’t say anything further. After a while, Sheng Min felt the bed dip slightly, and the faint scent of shampoo filled the air. The shampoo in the house had run out, and this bottle was one Li Xuan had picked up casually at the supermarket; it had a refreshing fig scent. This scent surrounded him like a thin veil, and this time, Sheng Min truly fell asleep.