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Zhuang Zhixing has always been lonely.
His loneliness started in his childhood and so far, there never seemed to be an end in sight.
It was not even his mother’s death that kickstarted his loneliness. It was her illness.
He remembers crying and begging for his father to just show up as his mother took her last breaths. It left a well of resentment in him. He filled it up with profligacy as he hit his adolescence. At least, that is what he thought he was doing. He thought that his extravagant lifestyle would fix the hole in his heart. After all, no matter how badly he hurt from his father’s betrayal, he still loved him. He was still his father. Cold, cruel and distant but his father nonetheless.
And then Zhinu– Zang Hai – showed up and made him dig out that well again. Made him dig it even deeper, made him reach that point where there really was no other option than to sit up and betray his own father. Zang Hai spread the poison of hate in him but he was decent enough to be upfront about it. He was honest. Without Zang Hai, Zhuang Zhixing would have never known the truth.
When Zang Hai dropped him off with Guanfeng and Shilei, his initial thoughts were of childish complaints about the sheer lack of luxury in every corner of his rundown place. It was not until he saw the bond between Zang Hai and his friends that he began to feel jealous. He never had friends like that. Growing up, the closest person to him has always been his mother. He never made friends with kids his age and he is mature enough by now to recognise whose fault it was. He was too stuck up, too snobby, too spoiled, too haughty. He is too every adjective that Guanfeng uses to describe him under his breath that Zhixing knows he is supposed to pretend not to hear. Perhaps if his mother had lived longer she would have made him grow out of it but it is unfair to fault the dead for his own shortcomings.
He knows all of this, but it does not make it any easier to deal with it. He trundles around with heavy weights Shilei shoves at him and mopes about how lonely he is. He makes a face at the concoctions Guanfeng comes up with and tries, really tries not to criticise the taste too harshly. It is hard to unlearn years of entitlement when it was the only thing that kept him grounded in all his years of loneliness. If he could just wrinkle his nose with disgust at someone or something, he would not have to acknowledge that he knows nothing of how to make friends or talk to his peers. He does not have Zang Hai’s silver tongue or Shilei’s simple and pure heart or Guanfeng’s odd but lovable sense of humour. All he has are expensive robes and the knowledge of how to flaunt them with maximum condescension.
One day he looks at Guanfeng and Shilei cracking jokes at each other while watching him shed his body weight in sweat and thinks fuck it.
He can make friends. He can train with two sadistic monsters and he can befriend them. It is possible. He can give it a try.
So he takes them out for a treat at his favourite place. Everyone has their own charms. He has his money. Money can buy friends. Absolutely, it can.
It even works; Guanfeng and Shilei have clearly never tasted such good food and alcohol or been treated so painstakingly before. He can see how flabbergasted they are.
Then Zang Hai shows up, chases him down and throws him into a smelly pigsty.
Well, Zang Hai did not personally, physically throw him down. He had Shilei do it as he watched. Zhuang Zhixing is fairly certain that by now he can take Zang Hai in a fight and win. But Zang Hai is not winning because of his physical strength. He is winning because these people were his friends before they were Zhixing’s. In fact, they were never truly Zhixing’s friends. He was naive to think that a treat would buy him friendship.
Zang Hai looking down on him that day stung but there was something else. Something else that felt too deep, too personal for Zhixing to ponder about. He still thinks of Zang Hai as Zhinu in his mind sometimes, as if that difference between Zang Hai and Zhinu is worth something. He wonders if he could have made friends with Zhinu back when they were kids. Sometimes he thinks of Zhinu simply because he wants to hate that kid who locked him up for days. Zang Hai looks nothing like that kid anymore but Zhixing feels as if he himself never grew up. He is still a lonely child longing for companionship and not knowing how to get it. And Zang Hai is a lot of things but he is not his friend.
It is fine. He has been lonely practically all his life. He should be used to this.
He trains with renewed focus instead of trying to befriend anyone. His mother was truly the only person ever in his life. If he cannot even avenge her, what use is his life? What use is the truth?
She would want him to be happy but his happiness died with her. He can only seek closure now.
He does everything Zang Hai asks him to do.
That is what his deal with Zang Hai was about. It would be absurd to read too much into it. Their relationship is purely transactional. He respects Zang Hai but he is also Zhinu’s worst enemy’s son. They both want revenge for their loved ones, and that common objective is enough. Yet, Zhuang Zhixing finds his eyes lingering on Zang Hai for longer than necessary, finds himself thinking about him late at night instead of falling asleep. It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise what is happening. What is even more embarrassing is the precise memory that triggers his realisation; the picture of Zang Hai without robes, shrouded in water and steam, the tendrils of the hair at the base of his neck curled by moisture. It is night, far too late to be thinking about Zang Hai for it to not mean anything.
Turns out, Zhixing was not turning over the memory of their fateful day at the bathhouse in his mind because of the suspicion he confirmed back then. He was doing it simply because he liked to imagine Zang Hai without clothes. What a simple yet absolutely devastating thing to realise about himself.
Zhixing thinks about whether to groan or sigh, then does neither and pulls his blanket over his head stubbornly.
The next day, he wins the last match and the tournament.
His father’s approval feels good. Too good. For a moment Zhuang Zhixing is prepared to forget everything. Just one word of praise from his father’s lips is apparently enough for his starving heart to waver.
But it is not, actually. He wants more and when he realises that he will never stop wanting more, he goes to Zang Hai to take his instructions on how to sabotage Zhuang Luyin next.
Keeping his father occupied for the whole night was easier than he expected. Not because of his own skills, but because Jiang Xiang barged into their conversation and neatly pushed Zhixing away from his father’s focus. It should not have mattered, except for the way it did. He spent the entire night outside the doors, sleepless, focused on making sure his father did not leave the room and thinking about how Jiang Xiang stole everything important from his life.
The next time Zang Hai calls him to do something, he is in jail.
Seeing Zang Hai locked up is quite frankly terrible. Zhixing knows he likes Zang Hai but he did not know he cared this much. It is terrible on all levels. Zang Hai does not seem to care about his own imprisonment and he seems to care even less about the prospect of Chu Huaiming coming in and setting him on goddamn fire. Zhixing takes a moment to privately despair about what an absolute madman he is. Then he tries not to gape visibly as Zang Hai tells him to not save him when Chu Huaiming sets him on goddamn fire. Zang Hai chuckles slightly on seeing his face so he must not have been very successful. “Don’t worry,” he says.
Zhixing waits for more. ‘ Don’t worry, I won’t die so easily.’ ‘Don’t worry, I will not accept death before I have had my revenge.’
Nothing. Just don’t worry. Zhixing considers telling him that if he was trying to be reassuring he missed by some distance.
“Fine,” he replies. “I will not save your life.” It sounds too harsh to his ears but Zang Hai nods as if perfectly satisfied. Zhixing manages not to roll his eyes until his back is to Zang Hai and he is leaving.
That night he thinks about how Zang Hai, under his perfect facades and practised smiles, is the most infuriating man to ever exist. Then he thinks about what is quickly becoming his favourite thing to fantasise about Zang Hai. Then he slaps himself and turns over to bury his face in the pillow. When will this stop?
Catching Chu Huaiming trying to flee the scene is satisfying. It means that their plan has gone exactly as predicted. It is also a small yet monumental way for him to further gain his father’s trust.
But both of those reasons for satisfaction are drowned out by the loud thought of ‘He tried to kill Zang Hai.’
He kicks Chu Huaiming down. He tried to kill Zang Hai. He hauls him back inside. He tried to kill Zang Hai. He presents him to his father. He tried to kill Zang Hai.
The clamour in his brain refuses to quiet down. He considers taking it out on Chu Huaiming a bit more but that would be too much. It would be too revealing. Everyone will know. Zang Hai would know which would be the worst of all.
He settles for one last withering glare before he leaves Chu Huaiming in custody.
He does not even dare to seek out Zang Hai immediately afterwards, not sure what his face would do on seeing him injured and in pain. Zang Hai seeks him out himself and Zhixing turns away from the voice in his heart telling him that it means something. Zang Hai is just unfailingly polite, even when he is conspiring with you to doom your father.
Still, he reaches out to touch Zang Hai on his arm where he knows Zang Hai is badly burned. He cannot help it. Zang Hai winces a little and Zhixing lets go.
“I hope you have taken care of that properly,” he says. That is a perfectly acceptable thing to say, right?
“I have,” Zang Hai replies. “Or rather, your father…”
Oh no. Zhixing does not want to think about that. Zang Hai is… beautiful. He knows that and he knows everyone else knows that. Zhixing refuses to think about whether his father feels the same attraction towards Zang Hai that he himself does. Zang Hai once told him that he is quite like his father. He hopes that does not apply here.
When he looks at Zang Hai again, the man looks vaguely amused. Zhixing’s heart drops to his stomach. He was trying so hard to hide his feelings from him, so surely not–
“It was nothing like that ,” says Zang Hai. “Well, I mean, it could have been but he was more preoccupied with raging about Chu Huaiming and brooding about my predictions.”
“I did not ask,” says Zhixing, not even trying to hide his grimace this time. When Zang Hai leaves, Zhixing can only think horrible, unwanted thoughts of what ‘it could have been’ meant.
He is not a prude and he knows his father had bed men before. Not something he needed or wanted to know but he is aware. Nevertheless, it is horrible to think about… Zhixing makes himself stop. He should just be thankful that Zang Hai has not yet realised what Zhixing feels towards him.
He thinks about showing up at Zang Hai’s new residence after his promotion. He is just the slightest bit offended that he was not invited by Zang Hai himself. He knows Guanfeng and Shilei basically live with him there but somehow he does not even get an invitation? Maybe he should just show up at his house unannounced. He wonders just how scandalous it would be to spend the night there. He does not have to be with Zang Hai in the same room. Just under the same roof, knowing that Zang Hai is nearby. It makes no sense to want that kind of proximity so badly. There is no pleasure in debasing himself just to be close to Zang Hai. But that is what his heart wants to do.
This is dangerous. It is dangerous to let his heart believe that there is someone who can make up for the loneliness that has plagued him his entire life. Zang Hai is not supposed to be his safety tether. He is not here to fulfill Zhixing's personal desires.
He should be grateful to have an ally in Zang Hai at all.
He is, he thinks desperately under the cover of the night. His forehead is beading with sweat and his blanket is too warm over his body. But he dares not throw it off because the truth underneath is far too shameful. A dream of Zang Hai with his hair down, letting Zhixing peel the clothes off his body, instructing him on ways to pleasure instead of revenge plots, left him so wound up that here he is now. Wide awake and unable to shake the picture off his mind. Wanting to get on a horse right now and ride to Zang Hai’s house. Touching himself under the blanket as if he is hiding the act from someone. From who? There is no one else in the room. Is he trying to hide it from himself? Will that make it less real, less humiliating?
He visits his mother’s grave the following day. He kneels there in front of her, not knowing how to express himself with words. How do you even tell your mother that you might have fallen in love with the person who helped you dig up her grave?
He cries. How cruel is fate, for making him yearn for the affection of those who will never give it to him? Maybe he is just destined to love those who cannot love him in return.
When Zang Hai tells him to beg his father to join the army, he does. It actually feels good to have another task to focus on instead of spiraling about his inconvenient emotions.
It is almost surprising that his story about dreaming of his mother works. There is guilt, or something akin to it, in his father’s eyes when Zhixing rambles about how his mother appeared to him in his dream. Or maybe he is imagining it to make himself feel better.
He does go to Zang Hai’s house eventually, to inform him that he is leaving for the army. Zang Hai is not home, which is not surprising but it is disappointing. The anticipation of being invited in, sitting at a table with Zang Hai and talking is all that was carrying him through today but now that is gone. Zang Hai has already told him what to do. He has better things to do with his time, clearly, and so does Zhixing.
The next time he sees Zang Hai, it is when he is deserting the army camp.
Zang Hai somehow manages to look both disapproving and sympathetic. He hands him the same box of sweet delicacies that Zhixing gifted him. It reminds him of the time he let Zhixing eat some of his mother’s cooked food.
Zhixing still remembers what he said back then: “The ingredients are cheap and unrefined, but the flavour is acceptable.” The most backhanded of all backhanded compliments he could have delivered.
Zhixing listlessly bites into one of the sweets now. It is expensive, made of high-quality ingredients and brings him absolutely no joy.
He does not say anything for a while. He just thinks about sweet, bright-eyed Zhinu who fed him out of genuine care, even though he did throw him down into a tunnel. He thinks about Zang Hai now, who stands tall beside him. He does not ask how Zang Hai is here at all, how he knew the exact moment to show up and stop Zhixing from deserting. What does it matter? Zang Hai is not here out of the kindness of his heart. He is not here because he has come to care for Zhixing the way Zhixing cares for him. He is not Zhinu. Zhuang Luyin killed Zhinu that night alongside his entire family.
Zhixing had almost hoped, for a moment there, that he could bond with someone just for the sake of it. That army life would not be entirely miserable. That Xiang Hong could be a genuine friend.
It feels pathetic to miss a friendship he never had.
The ambience is serene and significant. Like this is the time Zhixing should have stood up and finally confessed to Zang Hai what he felt for him. But there are no grand declarations of devotion or quiet promises of love. There is not a single touch shared, fleeting or lingering, no matter how much he yearns for it with his entire heart. Instead, there is Zang Hai’s cruel admission of what Zhixing already knows. First through his silence when asked if he would have ever befriended Zhixing if he was not useful to him. Then through his reminder of Shen Wan’s demise.
It hurts. He is not going to lie to himself. It hurts so bad, it layers itself over all the hurt he has accumulated within himself. But, he reminds himself, Zang Hai still has the decency to be honest. That deserves acknowledgement and respect. Zhuang Zhixing cannot run away from his promises now. He cannot let Zang Hai down.
As he walks back to the camp alone, he vows to never think of Zhinu again.