Chapter Text
“Xie Lian.”
A voice followed by a hand on his shoulder pulled Xie Lian's attention from one of the tea shop’s open windows.
Startled, he glanced up. “Hey.”
Shi Qingxuan’s bright green eyes were pinched with concern as he gazed down at him, voluminous waves of medium-length dark hair falling forward to frame his beautiful diamond shaped face.
He looked fantastic as usual in a turquoise blouse with a pair of crisp white slacks and a gold belt cinched around his waist.
“You okay?” he asked, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I called your name a few times, but you didn’t seem to hear me.”
“Yeah,” Xie Lian replied with a careful smile. “Just a bit tired, I guess.”
Shi Qingxuan gave him a bit of a dubious look but held his tongue for the moment in favor of placing their order since he was already twenty minutes late for their tea date. “Should we do a pot of silver needle?”
Xie Lian nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Back in a jiff.”
While Shi Qingxuan went to the front to speak with the old tea master sitting on the stool behind the counter, Xie Lian gave his surroundings a cursory glance.
This particular tea shop, with the charming moniker of ‘Little Shop of Chance Encounters’ had been a favorite meeting place of theirs ever since they first met in college.
It was a lovely, wide open space filled with natural light courtesy of the skylights overhead, lending it a tranquil, slightly ethereal atmosphere.
Ordinarily, Xie Lian would have felt uplifted from the moment he stepped inside, but the last year and a half had been . . . difficult, and lately, he was having trouble finding joy in familiar places and familiar things.
He’d come here today in the hopes that a friendly face would provide a sufficient counter to the black cloud he’d found himself enveloped in as of late.
A few minutes later, Shi Qingxuan slid into the chair opposite him and announced, “I got some sponge cake for us, too! I'm feeling a bit of a sweet tooth coming on.”
Xie Lian shot him a wry look. “You always have a sweet tooth coming on.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That you're addicted to sugar?”
“Ahhh, I have so many addictions these days,” Shi Qingxuan informed him in a breezy tone. “Great shoes, nice clothes, broody, but gorgeous men who talk down to me—what's one more?”
Xie Lian laughed, feeling the burden on his heart ease a little.
“There he is.” Shi Qingxuan's glossy lips curved upward in a relieved grin. “You were starting to make me worry.”
Xie Lian felt a stab of guilt. “I'm sorry.”
“What's going on?” he inquired, giving his hair a flick as he leaned forward. “Feeling overworked by the fast-paced, exciting world of antiques?”
“No more than usual.” For the last year, Xie Lian had been running his parent's antique store back in Puqi Village, a quiet, sleepy town where the words “fast-paced” and “exciting” did not apply. “I just . . . nevermind.” He shook his head. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, hell no,” Shi Qingxuan said, automatically rejecting his attempt to redirect the conversation. “Don't you nevermind me. You “just” what?”
“Qingxuan,” Xie Lian tried to reason, “this is the first time we've been able to see each other in two months. I really don't want to ruin our time together by—”
“Your tea!” a cheerful voice interrupted. Both men leaned back, giving the tea master space as he set down a teapot, cups, and two pieces of sponge cake.
As soon as the old man departed, Shi Qingxuan took up the pot and threatened, “Spill it. Or I'm going to ruin that hideous tarp you call a sweater by spilling on you. And what are you even wearing that for, by the way? It's sixty degrees out!”
By reflex, Xie Lian glanced down at the well-worn, creamy white sweater covering his upper body.
Shi Qingxuan had always been thoroughly disappointed in Xie Lian's fashion sense, which he’d dubbed ‘Scrap Collector Chic,’ and had desperately begged on more than one occasion to give him a makeover.
This sweater isn’t that bad, he thought.
Okay, maybe it was a bit faded, and maybe there were a few holes in the sleeves, but it was comfortable. And while he wouldn't mind adding a few new pieces to his wardrobe, he'd never be able to afford the types of clothes his best friend would pick out.
Shi Qingxuan, who wore Gucci shoes and Armani pea coats that cost more than his shop made in a week, would probably be horrified to learn that thrifting and department store clearance racks were how he acquired the majority of his clothes.
“Hey!” Shi Qingxuan snapped his fingers, drawing Xie Lian's attention back. He brandished the teapot. “Are we drinking this or am I creating some abstract art on your chest?”
“Fine,” Xie Lian sighed in defeat, pushing his cup towards the dancing pot. He watched as the other man began to pour. “I, um . . . I got one of those calls last night.”
Shi Qingxuan stopped mid-pour, his gaze snapping up.
The calls in question had been happening off and on for a few months now.
The caller never speaks when Xie Lian answers, they don’t even seem to breathe, but he can feel a presence on the other end of the line that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“That stalker asshole,” Shi Qingxuan spat after a long moment. “We need to go to the police.”
Xie Lian couldn't help but smile.
Shi Qingxuan’s tendency to immediately jump into the fray and help him fight his battles without a second thought was something he’d always loved about him.
If only he'd been there when his entire life went to hell. Maybe he wouldn't have taken it so hard.
“With what?” Xie Lian asked, as his friend resumed pouring. “I have no proof that it's him.”
“Seriously?” Outrage pulled the corners of Shi Qingxuan’s eyes and mouth tight as he finished his task and set the pot back down. “This has been happening ever since he came back from Europe. When I was at that stupid party my brother threw, he kept asking me about you—what you were up to, would I please give him your new number, blah blah blah. When I refused, he got all pissy. And now you've been getting creepy phone calls at the shop because it's the only place where he knows you'll be forced to answer the phone.”
“Well,” Xie Lian said, picking up his cup and inhaling the sweet, fruity aroma of the tea. “He calls from a different number every time, so even if it’s him and even if I reported it, he'd be able to hand wave it away based on that alone. Besides, no one would believe someone like Lang Qianqiu would do that anyway.”
Lang Qianqiu's family was a heavyweight in the entertainment industry, having produced many successful feature films as well as numerous television shows. Like Shi Qingxuan’s family, they had a lot of money and a lot of power, and they didn’t hesitate to use either.
Admittedly, Xie Lian was a little starstruck when he first met Lang Qianqiu back at Xianle University, expecting that someone with his background and easy good looks would naturally be pursuing an acting career.
The entertainment world was full of rampant nepotism and it would have been very easy for Qianqiu to land highly coveted roles regardless of any natural talent, but his ex-boyfriend made it clear he wasn't interested in that kind of celebrity and opted instead to pursue a degree in Arts Administration.
Lang Qianqiu wanted to be an asset to his family, unlike Xie Lian, who was going against his family's—well, his father's—wishes to study acting.
Xie Lian felt terribly guilty that he and his father could never see eye to eye when it came to the future. His mother was quietly supportive, but Qianqiu was one of the first people to openly encourage him to follow his dreams before they even started dating. He'd always seemed to want the best for Xie Lian.
Until he didn't.
“That little sh*t just can't stand being told ‘no’,” Shi Qingxuan growled, taking a stab at his cake.
Xie Lian took a sip from his cup. “Growing up filthy rich tends to have that effect.”
“Hey!” Shi Qingxuan cried with a wounded look. “I grew up filthy rich, and I'm not like that.”
“Present company excluded, of course,” he amended.
“Does Qianqiu really think that if he hounds you long enough you'll just run right back to him? After what he did?” Suddenly, a look of pure mischief stole over Shi Qingxuan’s features as he chewed. “You know what would be the best revenge?”
“I am almost afraid to ask,” Xie Lian replied in a wary voice.
“The best revenge would be if you got yourself a taller, totally jacked, well-hung, much hotter boyfriend, and then rubbed it in his big, stupid, spoiled face.”
Xie Lian couldn’t hold back his laughter. “That's a nice thought, but I don't think anyone else would be interested in dating someone with my . . . issues.”
Around the time of his eighteenth birthday, Xie Lian had developed what he’d come to think of as an unspeakable affliction.
In short: he couldn't stay hard.
It was extremely embarrassing.
Despite his other flaws, Lang Qianqiu was kind enough to put up with said affliction for three years, and Xie Lian doubted he'd ever find anyone else willing to do the same.
Shi Qingxuan, who was well aware of his difficulties, shot him a pitying glance, then brightened considerably.
“Oh!” he shouted, drawing several curious stares from the other customers as he reached over and clutched Xie Lian's hand excitedly. “I can't believe I didn't think of this before!”
“Could you lower your voice while you think?” Xie Lian asked, feeling his heart speed up as he glanced anxiously around the room.
For a split second, the scenery inside the tea shop disappeared, replaced by a cavernous theater echoing with whispers and laughter.
Xie Lian blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision as Shi Qingxuan squeezed his hand and whispered, “Sorry, sorry. You okay?”
“Y-yeah.” He shook his head. “What were you going to say?”
“Okay,” Shi Qingxuan said with a grin. “What about a professional?”
#
Xie Lian frowned. “A—what?”
“You know, a professional,” he said. “Someone with experience who can help ease you through . . . whatever is going on and get you trained up. That way, when you finally do get into a relationship with someone you care about, this won't be a problem anymore.”
Xie Lian balked. “Qingxuan . . .”
“I'm serious!” he insisted, giving his hand another squeeze before releasing it. “You need to get back out there and show that bastard you've moved on so he'll leave you the hell alone.”
“I don't know,” Xie Lian said, biting his bottom lip as he watched Shi Qingxuan polish off his tea before refilling both their cups. His cake still sat in front of him, untouched. “Where would I even find someone like that?”
Shi Qingxuan grinned. “You remember my brother's friend Pei Ming?”
“Yeah.” Xie Lian had heard about him several times but had yet to officially meet the man. From what he’d been told, he wasn’t exactly missing much, though.
According to Shi Qingxuan, Pei Ming was a notorious player who delighted in sweet-talking his way into the pants of as many people as possible, uncaring of the trail of broken hearts he left behind him.
“Well,” he said, polishing off his cake. “Ol’ Pei used to work for this escort service called The Array.”
Xie Lian's brows shot up. “Are you serious?”
Shi Qingxuan dangled his fork and gave him a look. “Sweetie, when am I not serious?”
“Like, all the time?”
“Ugh!”
A cloth napkin flew across the table, hitting Xie Lian in the face. “Ow.”
“That's what you get for insulting me. Anyway.” He sniffed, snatching the napkin back. “He worked there for a few years. Made a lot of money, too, he said.”
“How did you even find out he was an escort?”
Escorting wasn’t exactly the kind of topic that typically came up in casual conversation.
“So.” Shi Qingxuan smiled gleefully. “This one night, ge made me go hang out with them at Pei's house—then his picky ass left me there to go get takeout because he’s a total control freak and doesn’t trust anyone to deliver his food after it’s been cooked—and at first, everything was chill. We were just hanging out, watching The Untamed on the big screen. And then, out of nowhere, this woman starts banging on the door, screaming about how she’d given Pei everything, and how could he have her banned, and why couldn’t he see how much she really loved him.”
“Wow.”
“I know.” Shi Qingxuan nodded. “When I asked what was going on, Ol’ Pei just hid behind the couch, begging me to get rid of her, the coward. I told him I wasn’t going to help him out unless he told me the truth. He tried to wriggle out of it, of course, but gave in when it looked like his front door was about to be torn off its hinges. Sidebar: if you ever want to see Pei Ming truly terrified, just tell him you love him. The blood drains from his face, his eyes bulge out and everything. It's hilarious.”
“So did you get her to leave?” Xie Lian asked, picking up his fork.
“Yup,” he replied in a lilting voice. “I opened the door and told her I was Pei's new boyfriend, and that she better get the F off our property before I stuck my Louboutin's up her ass. It took a bit of back and forth, but I eventually managed to run her off.”
“Who was she?”
“One of his old clients. Regular by the name of Xuan Ji. I guess she was in an unhappy marriage when she first started seeing Pei through the service.” He slid his empty plate to the side and continued. “Over time, she started to get clingy and possessive, I guess, tried to stop him from seeing other clients. She even divorced her husband in the hopes that Pei would marry her, but Ol’ Sleaze ain't marrying anybody. After he turned her down, she went ballistic—harassing him, blowing up his phone, that sort of thing. Eventually, he had her banned from using the service and thought that would be the end of it, but somehow she found out where he lived.”
“That's horrible,” Xie Lian murmured around a bite of cake. It had started to get a little hard, but he didn't mind. “Pei should get a restraining order or something.”
“He won't.”
“Why not?”
“Because he says it's kinda hot.”
Xie Lian made a face. “And here I thought this Xuan Ji was the crazy one.”
“Right? Anyway, after she left, Pei showed me The Array’s website and gave me the secret password in exchange for not telling ge what happened.” He flashed Xie Lian a huge grin. “There's a lot of good-looking guys on there. I'm sure we can find someone who can help you out.”
“I don't know . . .” Xie Lian said, unsure.
Out of all of the things Xie Lian had tried in an attempt to solve his problem—and he had tried many things—utilizing an escort service was something he’d never considered before.
“Sweetie, come on,” Shi Qingxuan half-whined, half-pleaded. “What's the worst that could happen? If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out, but at least you'll have tried. Things aren't going to get better by sitting around and doing nothing.”
Xie Lian let loose a heavy sigh.
I'm probably going to regret this.
“Alright,” he said. “Show me.”
#
“I can't believe I'm sitting in a tea shop at six o'clock in the evening looking for an escort,” Xie Lian mumbled.
“Hey,” Shi Qingxuan said, bumping his shoulder. “It's the Little Shop of Chance Encounters, right? I can't think of a more appropriate place to do this.”
The other man had left his spot on the opposite side of the table and taken up the chair on Xie Lian's left so they could both look at his phone screen together. The tea in their cups had long since gone cold.
“Is it really a chance encounter if you get to choose the other person from a virtual brochure?” Xie Lian asked.
“Sure it is,” he replied, thumbing through a series of images. “It isn't cheating just because you can see what they look like. My god, check out the abs on this one. Hnnngh.”
A grin pulled at the corner of Xie Lian's mouth. Really, it was more interesting watching Shi Qingxuan's reaction to the photos than looking at them himself.
From what he could see, the majority of the pictures were perfectly framed shots of men's chests and abs meant to entice the viewer into clicking on the name displayed underneath. Doing so would take you to the individual's profile, which contained a description of why said individual made the ideal date, any “kinks” they catered to, their rates, and a full body shot with their face.
What exactly are kinks, anyway? Xie Lian wondered. Do I have any?
“So what do you think?” Shi Qingxuan interrupted his pondering. “See anyone you like?”
“Um . . . not really,” he answered, feeling a little guilty.
It wasn't that the men weren't attractive. They all were. Only for Xie Lian, good looks had never been the deciding factor on what ultimately drew him to someone, and after reading many of the profiles—the majority of which read like the back cover of a cheesy romance novel—he didn't feel a pull towards any of them.
He recognized The Array was in the business of selling fantasy, meaning their employees were presenting potential clients an idealized version of what they thought people wanted to see, and that was all well and good, but it just felt a little . . . hollow.
“Qingxuan,” Xie Lian began, continuing to watch his friend flick rapidly from one profile to the next, “maybe this was a bad idea. I'm not sure I—wait. Go back.”
Shi Qingxuan's finger stilled, then swept left across the screen. “This one?”
“No, back one more,” Xie Lian said leaning forward.
Shi Qingxuan did as requested, his lips turning down in a puzzled frown.
“Wuming?” he read in mild outrage, tapping on the profile. “He couldn't come up with anything better than that?” His frown grew deeper. “There aren't any other pictures. Just this weird . . . whatever this is.”
On the screen, set against a red background, was the stunning image of a glowing silver butterfly perched on the index finger of an outstretched hand.
It was so arresting that it took a moment for Xie Lian to register that what he was looking at was actually a drawing and not something real.
Every detail, from the sharp wings and delicate antennae to the way the light played along the skin of those long, tapered fingers, was exquisite.
“You think it's weird?” Xie Lian replied with a faint smile, his eyes alight with interest. “I think it's kind of cute.”
“Oh—are you—kidding me? ” Shi Qingxuan sputtered. “The only bloody person on the entire Array without a photograph? He hasn't even written anything about himself, just put some stupid quote in the profile box. ‘After seeing the vast sea, no water can compare’—what even is this crap?”
“It's called Ache of Separation,” Xie Lian told him. “It's a poem, one of my favorites, actually . . .”
Seeing the look on his face, Shi Qingxuan did his best to derail what he obviously thought was an oncoming train wreck.
“Sweetie, I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no. No. You have no idea what you'd be getting into. Maybe the reason he uses the butterfly as a stand-in is because he's really horrible looking.”
“Or maybe he's so good-looking that he steals all the business from everyone else so they made him put up this picture instead.”
Shi Qingxuan made a face. “Don't you think that sounds a little far-fetched?”
“Don't you think what you said sounds a little far-fetched?” Xie Lian countered.
“Ugh . . .” Shi Qingxuan sighed dramatically.
“It's the Little Shop of Chance Encounters, right?” Xie Lian said boldly, using Qingxuan's words against him. “Well, I'm taking a chance. I choose him.”
“Why?!?”
Xie Lian wasn't exactly sure how to articulate why he felt drawn to this Wuming, whose picture he had never even seen, more than the others who had almost everything but their genitals on full display.
“Because . . .” His brow furrowed. “Because even though his profile isn’t as . . . detailed as the others, I feel like I was able to learn several things about him that made me feel like he isn't just peddling some sort of illusion.”
“Like what?” Shi Qingxuan asked, tone sour.
“Well, right away you can see from the name that he has a sense of humor. I mean, Wuming?” Xie Lian pointed at the screen. “He's obviously a talented artist, and he has good taste in poetry, which means he probably likes to read. Those are real things I can connect with.”
“Isn't escaping reality the entire point of hiring an escort?”
“For other people, maybe,” Xie Lian said. “But, if I'm going to ask someone to help me with my, ah, problem, then don't you think I should hire someone who will tell me the truth and not what he thinks I want to hear?”
“How can you be so sure this guy is going to be the one to do that for you?”
“I don't know.” Xie Lian shrugged. “I just . . . have a feeling.”
“Fine,” Shi Qingxuan finally grumbled. “But don't blame me if you end up with some crazy weirdo.”
