On weekends, Zhou Ziheng would unusually start rousing Xia Xiqing from bed early in the morning. But Xia Xiqing was a heavy sleeper, burrowing deep under the covers and refusing to emerge. With no other option, Zhou Ziheng had to coax and tug until he finally pulled him up from the bed.
“What’s up…” Xia Xiqing mumbled without opening his eyes. “Isn’t today Saturday…”
“Yeah, but I have stuff to do.”
“If you had stuff to do, why didn’t you sleep last night?” Xia Xiqing, still closed-eyed, grabbed a pillow and smacked it at Zhou Ziheng. “You kept me up till three… I’m dead tired.”
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t fall asleep.” Zhou Ziheng pulled him into his arms, patting his back a couple of times. “Well, who told you to tease me last night?”
“You still have the nerve to say that?”
“No, no, it’s my fault. I couldn’t hold back.” Zhou Ziheng chuckled, wrapping Xia Xiqing’s legs around his waist and his arms around his neck, lifting him up like a child.
“Hey, I really… I don’t want to get up…”
“Get up. It’s important. Really important.” Zhou Ziheng carried him to the bathroom. “I even squeezed your toothpaste for you. Look.”
Even after being set down, Xia Xiqing still refused to look up. He leaned against Zhou Ziheng, eyes shut, silent, so sleepy he could nod off standing up. But Zhou Ziheng was already satisfied. Back in the day, Xia Xiqing’s morning grouchiness meant he’d curse anyone who woke him up.
“Good boy. Brush your teeth first. I’ll make you something delicious later.” He helped Xia Xiqing slip on the slippers by the bathroom door.
The commotion had mostly roused Xia Xiqing. He picked up the cup to brush his teeth and wash his face. Water droplets glistened on his face when he looked up and saw Zhou Ziheng about to apply aftershave. He grabbed Zhou Ziheng’s wrist. “You didn’t even shave off all your stubble.”
“Where?” Zhou Ziheng tilted his head to examine himself in the mirror.
A droplet splashed into his eye, making Xia Xiqing frown. He tapped the upper edge of Zhou Ziheng’s lip with a cold finger. “Right here. Forget it, I’ll shave it for you.” With that, he pushed Zhou Ziheng’s chest, guiding him all the way to the toilet seat. “Sit here.”
Zhou Ziheng obediently sat down, watching Xia Xiqing open the cabinet beside the mirror to retrieve a razor and shaving cream. He wore a light gray cotton pajama set, sleeves rolled up to his forearms while washing his face. When reaching for items, his hands extended, revealing a stretch of fair skin on his arm. His profile looked almost childlike.
“Electric razors never get a clean shave. Let’s use a manual one.” Xia Xiqing walked over to Zhou Ziheng with the tools. He first crouched down, but Zhou Ziheng was too tall even seated. So he stood up, bent over to lift his face, but he himself was tall too, making the effort awkward.
Zhou Ziheng stifled a laugh and pulled him into his embrace. “This position is easier.”
Here we go again. Xia Xiqing tapped Zhou Ziheng’s head with the handle of the manual razor, straddling him. Zhou Ziheng’s hands folded over his lower back, his eyes glued to Xia Xiqing.
The face in his field of vision magnified dramatically. He could even see the fine downy fuzz on Xia Xiqing’s fair skin, and the way his lips instinctively pressed together when he concentrated. That slight pout made them appear even softer—like two cherries pressed together, needing just a little more pressure, just a touch more, to burst with juice.
Xia Xiqing moved with gentle care, lathering the shaving cream in his palms before applying it to his face. His hand on the razor handle pressed lightly, carefully shaving the stubborn patches. His gaze remained fixed on that spot, his brow slightly furrowed. His long lashes glistened in the warm bathroom light, casting long, trembling shadows on the delicate skin beneath his eyes.
Every minute detail clung together, forming the catalyst for heart-fluttering attraction.
“Looks a bit cleaner…” Xia Xiqing tilted his head, wanting to examine more closely, but that very tilt invited Zhou Ziheng’s kiss. “Mmm… mmm!”
He punched Zhou Ziheng’s shoulder, but Zhou showed no intention of letting go. The hands clasped around his waist slid up his back, the embrace tightening further. The citrus scent wafting from the foam mingled with a hint of herbal bitterness, rubbing from one face to the other like the tangible form of contagious desire.
Xia Xiqing didn’t want Zhou Ziheng to have his way so quickly, so he stubbornly clamped his jaw shut. But Zhou Ziheng, seemingly patient, kissed his lips gently while his hand slid down Xia Xiqing’s slightly curved spine, reaching its lowest point. Slowly, deliberately, he massaged Xia Xiqing’s tailbone.
“Mmm…” Caught at his weak spot, Xia Xiqing inadvertently parted his lips. Zhou Ziheng seized the opening instantly, his tongue probing into the moist, yielding cavity. The lingering minty scent was suffused by the heated embrace of lips and tongues. Xia Xiqing abandoned all resistance. The razor fell to the floor, its clatter becoming the clarion call of intimate battle. His fingers caressed Zhou Ziheng’s hairline affectionately, his tongue lapped at the soft arch of his palate. Their breaths grew heavier, their embrace tighter, their burning chests pressed together in suggestive friction.
When the lips parted, the suffocating pressure eased slightly. Zhou Ziheng clasped his lean waist as a trail of kisses slowly descended from the corner of his mouth, his gaze fixed on Xia Xiqing’s rolling Adam’s apple. His upper body arched backward involuntarily, his slender neck, slightly raised chest, and supple waist forming a curve that promised a surge of desire.
Xia Xiqing disliked this teasing—the tantalizing pleasure felt like scratching through a shoe, maddeningly frustrating. He pressed down on Zhou Ziheng’s shoulders, lowering his head to capture his lips in a wet kiss, as if demonstrating a starved man’s primal hunger for sustenance.
The temperature climbed steadily as they melted into the steamy bathroom, as natural as fish in water. The morning’s sensuality evaporated with their gasps.
Inside the walk-in closet, Zhou Ziheng finally revealed the real reason for his early wake-up.
“I told my parents I’d bring you home today.” Zhou Ziheng nonchalantly shed his pajamas, searching naked for the hoodie he wanted to wear. Ever since they’d been together, everything had become intermingled.
Xia Xiqing froze at his words. “What did you say?”
Zhou Ziheng turned to face him. “Take you home, of course.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Xia Xiqing’s mind went blank for a second before he plopped down onto the walk-in closet’s beanbag chair. “What home?”
“I’m not joking.” Zhou Ziheng finally found his own gray-blue hoodie, slipped it on deftly, and tried to pull Xia Xiqing up. “Hurry up and get dressed. I told them we’d be there this morning.”
“I…” Xia Xiqing hesitated, words caught in his throat. “Wait, do we have to go?”
“Of course.” Zhou Ziheng crouched down and kissed him. “What’s wrong?”
“What if…”
What if your parents don’t like me. Xia Xiqing held back the words, yet knew deep down that the word “home” felt too distant for him—not just distant, but forbidden.
Someone like him probably wouldn’t be welcomed by Zhou Ziheng’s family. He sensed that kind of background wouldn’t look kindly on homosexuality, especially not on him—not obedient, not docile. Zhou Ziheng had been raised so well; he must be their most cherished child. The thought of their precious child being led astray by a bad boy like him filled him with dread.
The more he thought about it, the more anxious he grew. Xia Xiqing clenched his jaw, saying nothing. Zhou Ziheng didn’t press him either, merely sitting across from him, playing with his hands.
To be honest, this wasn’t like him at all. Xia Xiqing had never feared anyone, never backed down from anything.
But now he was retreating, genuinely shrinking back. It wasn’t fear of his parents’ opposition, but dread that Zhou Ziheng’s perfect family dynamic might crack because of his intrusion.
“I think… your parents probably wouldn’t like me,” Xia Xiqing finally spoke after a long silence, his voice surprisingly calm. “Realistically speaking, few parents would approve of someone like me.”
Zhou Ziheng could clearly sense Xia Xiqing’s growing lack of confidence in himself—a confidence so palpable it was almost tangible. Yet he knew this was the real Xia Xiqing. He had always been insecure, though in the past he’d habitually masked his inner self with pride and aloofness.
Once that beautiful, hard shell cracked, the scarred child beneath would shrink back in fear, curling up and hiding from the world.
“They won’t,” Zhou Ziheng said, taking his hand. “They’re not like that. Besides, you’re already outstanding. You’re wonderful.” He brushed Xia Xiqing’s cheek. “To me, you’re the best.”
Xia Xiqing finally lifted his head, forcing a smile at Zhou Ziheng before standing to change clothes. Zhou Ziheng couldn’t grasp the panic and helplessness within him, nor did he understand Xia Xiqing’s innate dread of the word “parents.” But it didn’t matter. He loved Zhou Ziheng. He was willing to step out of his comfort zone for him.
“Should I take a shower now?” Xia Xiqing suddenly felt this was too casual. “I’ll be quick—five minutes.”
“No need.” Zhou Ziheng pulled him back, guiding his shoulders to face the row of clothes. “Let’s just change and go.”
Xia Xiqing spoke up abruptly, “What should I wear?” His hands flipped through one garment after another. “Should I dress simply? What colors do your parents like? They…”
He was too anxious. Zhou Ziheng embraced him from behind, his voice gentle. “Xiqing.”
“They won’t judge you based on what you wear, just as they won’t define your character by others’ opinions.” Zhou Ziheng’s arms encircled his waist. “This visit is simply an introduction. We’re meeting them—no need to be nervous.”
There was a peculiar comfort in his embrace. Xia Xiqing felt the frantic part of himself gradually settling.
The weather was still cold. In the end, they both wore matching down jackets out the door—Zhou Ziheng in black, Xia Xiqing in white. Xiao Luo was already waiting for them in the car.
Once inside the car, Xia Xiqing was unusually quiet, not uttering a single word. Even Xiao Luo noticed the change, glancing back through the rearview mirror. “What’s wrong, Xiqing? Why do you look so pale?”
Xia Xiqing froze for a moment, instinctively raising a hand to rub his face. “Do I look that bad?”
“Not at all.” Zhou Ziheng couldn’t help but laugh, cupping his rubbed-red cheeks. His nose tip was slightly red from the cold outside, and paired with his innocent face, he looked incredibly adorable. “Let me see. You’re clearly so beautiful.”
Xiao Luo wore an expression that screamed, What did I do wrong to deserve this public display of affection? “What’s wrong with Xiqing? He seems out of it.”
“Nothing much.” Zhou Ziheng answered for him. “He likes me too much—so much he’s too scared to meet my parents.”
Xia Xiqing shoved Zhou Ziheng away and turned his head. He’d been about to say, “Stop the car, I’m not going,” but the words twisted back in his throat. Ever since being with Zhou Ziheng, even his initial sharp tongue had gradually faded.
He couldn’t bring himself to speak harshly to him, couldn’t bear to lose his temper.
Just as Zhou Ziheng said, he truly did like him too much.
Arriving at Zhou Ziheng’s family home, Xia Xiqing felt a mix of nervousness and awkwardness. After all, the last time he’d been here, it had been through rather unscrupulous means.
The door was opened by an aunt wearing silver-rimmed glasses, radiating an exceptional aura. Xia Xiqing recognized her instantly as Zhou Ziheng’s mother. They bore a striking resemblance, both possessing exquisite bone structure and undeniable beauty.
“You’re here?” Mrs. Zhou smiled, her voice soft. “I was just about to call Hengheng to see if you were stuck in traffic. Come on in.” As she spoke, she gently tugged Xia Xiqing’s arm. “Isn’t it cold outside?”
Xia Xiqing gave an awkward smile. “It’s okay.”
“This is my mother.” Zhou Ziheng confidently led Xia Xiqing inside. “Mom, this is Xiqing.”
“I know,” Mrs. Zhou replied with a gentle smile. “I’ve seen your show.”
“Hello, Auntie,” Xia Xiqing said, bowing slightly. “Sorry to intrude.”
“Not at all—we’ve been waiting for you.” Mrs. Zhou led them inside. Xia Xiqing’s gaze fell on the middle-aged man seated on the living room sofa. He sat perfectly upright, having been reading a newspaper until he stood up as soon as he saw them enter.
It seemed Zhou Ziheng had inherited his parents’ best features, along with his father’s height.
However, like Zhou Ziheng, Mr. Zhou carried an intimidating air of aloofness. Before approaching, Xia Xiqing greeted him, “Hello, Uncle.”
“Mhm.” Zhou’s father nodded, hands clasped behind his back. “Sit down, sit down.” He sat back down himself. “The tea I brewed for you has gone cold. I just made a fresh pot.” He paused as he reached for the pot. “Would you like some tea, Xiqing? Or shall I have Aunt Hong make you coffee?”
Xia Xiqing waved his hands, flattered and a bit overwhelmed. “No need, Uncle. Tea is fine.” He picked up a small, crackled celadon cup and cradled it in his hands.
“Don’t be nervous,” Zhou’s father said, seeing right through his demeanor. He turned to Zhou Ziheng. “Go help your mother in the kitchen. She’s cooking lunch herself today.”
With Zhou Ziheng dismissed, only Xia Xiqing and Zhou’s father remained, facing each other across the coffee table.
“Don’t be afraid,” Zhou’s father said with a smile. “Actually, before you arrived, Zhou Ziheng already told us everything about you and him.”
Xia Xiqing had guessed as much. After all, Zhou Ziheng wasn’t the impulsive type who’d come out publicly at an awards ceremony without telling his parents first. He took a sip of tea, set the cup gently on the table, and listened quietly as Zhou’s father continued.
“Truthfully, his mother and I invited you both over simply for a meal.” Mr. Zhou picked up the teapot and poured him some more tea. “You’re his current partner now. We can’t just keep seeing you on TV, can we?”
Xia Xiqing nodded. It had been a long time since he’d sat and talked with an older man like this. The unfamiliar feeling made him a little uneasy.
“You don’t look well. Are you sick?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not sick.” He forced a smile. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
Mr. Zhou quickly sensed something was off. He glanced around the empty living room, then toward the kitchen, and began to realize. “Did I put you under pressure? Maybe I should call that boy over…”
“No need,” Xia Xiqing suddenly felt uneasy. “How did you know…”
“He told me about your family situation. I know it’s not right to bring this up right away. I know it’s hard for you to talk about it.”
Xia Xiqing pressed his lips together. “It’s okay. I’m much better now. Really.”
“You’re resilient. Growing up in that environment—most people would have broken down long ago.” Mr. Zhou’s eyes held a look of genuine approval. “Resilience is good. It’s rare, and you’re also very capable.”
Suddenly affirmed by Zhou Ziheng’s father, Xia Xiqing felt a flicker of surprise. Zhou’s father noticed the unexpected expression on his face. “Did you think I’d give you a hard time? Why would I? If I truly disapproved, I’d only take it out on my son.”
Xia Xiqing opened his mouth, his usual sharp wit failing him in this moment. Facing the parents of the man he loved, he only wanted to speak his thoughts sincerely and earnestly. “I thought… a family like yours might not accept your son being with me. I’m a man like him, and I was born into a broken family, which has left me with significant flaws in my character. But…”
His eyes lowered briefly before lifting again. “Uncle, I’ve changed a lot. It’s because of Ziheng that I changed. I love him deeply—I can promise you that.”
The words felt hollow the moment they left his mouth, and Xia Xiqing immediately regretted them. Anyone could say they loved him—it was as easy as opening one’s mouth.
Father Zhou hadn’t expected Xia Xiqing to bare his soul so directly. He’d seen him on TV shows and interviews, knew how sharp this young man was. So he hadn’t anticipated that at this moment, he’d choose such a simple, even clumsy way to win favor.
“I know. I’ve lived this long. If nothing else, I’m good at judging people.” Mr. Zhou smiled. “I won’t hide it from you—when Zhou Ziheng first confessed to me, I did get angry. Mainly because I never imagined… I never imagined he could fall for a man. He’d been navigating that world since he was just a kid, surrounded by so many temptations. Yet he never got entangled with anyone, never had anyone he liked.”
Mr. Zhou frowned. “I was puzzled then—how could he fall for you just from appearing on a show together?”
“Later, I looked into a lot of information about you. You are indeed talented, intelligent, and a charismatic young man. But to be honest, after my research, I was somewhat opposed to it. Because your childhood experiences were simply too…” He suddenly stopped speaking. Xia Xiqing lowered his eyes, remaining silent. “To me, it seemed like a ticking time bomb.”
“But later, I talked with his mother,” Zhou’s father sighed. “I realized my perspective was wrong—it was biased.”
Xia Xiqing suddenly realized how much these father and son resembled each other—their tone and phrasing were identical.
“I raised him this way from childhood, yet ended up judging others through my own colored glasses. What was the point of all that teaching?” Zhou’s father shook his head. “So I thought it through carefully and wrestled with it for a long time. Later, his older brother came to me and shared a childhood memory.”
“He said, ‘Dad, remember when Xingheng was little and found a sparrow with a broken leg in the yard? He treated it like a treasure, feeding it water and all kinds of grains. But in the end, the little bird flew away. He cried for a long time. It was you, Dad, who told him, ‘This bird isn’t your possession. It’s independent. You can’t force it to stay just because you like it.’”
Father Zhou smiled wistfully. “After his brother said all that, I felt ashamed. If I could tell Zhou Ziheng that sparrow was an independent being back then, why can’t I treat my own son as an independent being now?”
Xia Xiqing’s heart stirred. Suddenly, he envied Zhou Ziheng. In that moment, he finally understood why Zhou Ziheng could be so outstanding and upright—it all stemmed from the nurturing of his family.
“He may be my child, but first and foremost, he is his own person,” Zhou’s father said, meeting Xia Xiqing’s gaze. “He likes you and wants to be with you—these are his inherent rights. Even as parents, we have no right to interfere. So don’t worry, I won’t do anything to stand in your way. Such actions would be meaningless. As parents, protection and guidance are necessary, but letting go is even more important.”
Xia Xiqing felt a sting in his nose. He pressed his lips together tightly, forcing a smile that held all his emotions. He knew he should say something, but no words came to him.
Mr. Zhou continued, “Of course, he alone will bear the consequences of his choices.”
This was a reasonable question about their outcome, yet Xia Xiqing’s heart still gave an involuntary twinge. He hadn’t considered a bad outcome, and he couldn’t bear to give Zhou Ziheng a bad outcome.
“Uncle, I’m not someone who inspires trust easily. Just saying things verbally probably won’t be convincing, nor can it prove anything to you.”
Xia Xiqing lifted his gaze to meet Zhou’s father’s eyes, his expression unwavering. “But he is the only person I have ever loved—the first in twenty-five years. I know better than anyone how hard-won this love is, for both of us. So I wonder… could you give me just a little more trust? Please don’t let my issues weigh on him. I’ve always hoped he could be with me under his parents’ blessing.”
He pondered for a moment before replying, “Ziheng is different from me. He deserves his parents’ love.”
As soon as he finished, Mrs. Zhou emerged from the hallway. “You really know how to scare the life out of someone,” she said, sitting beside Xia Xiqing and patting her back. “Poor child.” Then she took Xia Xiqing’s hand—his fingers were ice-cold.
Mrs. Zhou shot Mr. Zhou a reproachful glance. “Your Uncle Zhou actually meant he understands and respects you both. And I can see it—ever since Ziheng started dating you, he’s come alive. Just like he said at the awards ceremony, it’s because of you that he’s filled the emotional void in his life.”
Mrs. Zhou patted his hand and smiled at him. “One more thing, dear. You’re wrong about that. Everyone deserves their parents’ love. If they don’t get it, it’s never the child’s fault. It’s the parents’ failure.”
Xia Xiqing clenched his teeth, forcing back the tears. His eyes reddened as he murmured a thank you to Mrs. Zhou, his voice low and hoarse.
Just then, Zhou Ziheng entered the living room. Noticing Xia Xiqing’s distress, he immediately sat beside him and addressed his father, “Dad, what did you say? You’ve been nagging me to bring Xiqing back every day.” His tone carried a hint of urgency. “You’re about to make him cry.”
Xia Xiqing grabbed Zhou Ziheng’s wrist. “It’s not Uncle Zhou. I’m not crying.”
Mr. Zhou looked utterly aggrieved. “I didn’t say anything! Xiqing, tell me—did I scare you?”
Xia Xiqing chuckled. “No, I was just too nervous.”
Zhou’s mother suddenly hugged Xia Xiqing. “Oh, my heart aches just looking at you. Auntie truly feels for you.” As she spoke, tears welled up in her eyes, leaving Xia Xiqing at a loss. “Auntie…”
“Mom’s at it again. The first time I told her about you, she cried for ages.”
Mrs. Zhou wept more bitterly, clutching Xia Xiqing as she stroked his back and the back of his head, tears streaming down her face. “How could anyone be so heartless? How did you manage to grow up like this… You’ve suffered so much, child…” Zhou Ziheng kept pulling tissues from the box, wiping his mother’s tears through Xia Xiqing’s shoulder.
This feeling was so unfamiliar. He could barely recall the sensation of his mother’s embrace.
Xia Xiqing snapped back to reality and carefully returned the hug, gently stroking her back. “Auntie, I’m fine. Please don’t cry. It’s bad for your health.”
“Things will get better,” Mrs. Zhou managed to stop her tears, touching Xia Xiqing’s cheek. “You’ll both have a brighter future.”
Xia Xiqing nodded with a smile, wiping the tears from the corner of his eye.
He finally understood where Zhou Ziheng’s innate gentle compassion came from.
Even as they sat down at the table, Zhou Ziheng was still scolding his father, while Zhou Dad reflected on his words, murmuring softly, “What did I say wrong? No, I thought it was fine… I even thought about it for a long time…”
“Eat, eat.” Mrs. Zhou placed a serving of vegetables into Xia Xiqing’s bowl. “Eat more. You’re too thin.”
Zhou Ziheng immediately vied for attention. “Mom, what about me?”
“You’re already so tall. What more do you need to eat? Do you want to grow into a giant?”
Zhou Ziheng switched targets, teaming up with his father to gossip about Mom. “Has Mom hit a snag in her research lately? She’s been so moody.”
“Your mom’s always been like that—one minute crying, the next laughing.”
“True.”
Seeing the two grown men bickering at the table, Zhou’s mother couldn’t be bothered to join in. She leaned closer to Xia Xiqing and spoke softly.
“Xiqing, I saw your livestream.”
Xia Xiqing suddenly turned his face, his expression slightly startled.
Mrs. Zhou smiled. “I could tell you love him deeply. That gives me peace of mind. There’s just one thing I’d like to ask of you.”
Xia Xiqing nodded blankly, solemnly setting down his chopsticks. “Go ahead.”
“Love yourself as much as you love him, okay?”
Author’s Note:
Xia Xiqing has truly changed a lot.
Children deprived of parental affection often feel more inferior than those from happy homes. Xia Xiqing’s initial pride stemmed partly from his natural brilliance—a touch of arrogance born of talent—but mainly from deep-seated insecurity he sought to mask. But when he gave his heart to Zhou Ziheng, he surrendered his entire being—shell and darkness alike—and could no longer pretend.
Many parents in this world fall short, yet I still hope every child receives the love they deserve.
