Hate The Bright Moon Chapter 2

Chen Shilü stepped out, and Fu Lei had already driven his car to the Bar entrance.

“Why did it take so long?”

Chen Shilü couldn’t mention the “little interlude” in the restroom. He only said, “I was checking the injury on my face.”

Fu Lei also noticed the bandage on his face. “Who put that on you?”

Chen Shilü rubbed his nose. “The Bar owner gave it to me.”

“That owner seems like a decent guy, good at business. We should come back sometime, but let’s try not to run into this kind of trouble again.”

Even now, Fu Lei hadn’t fully grasped what had happened. He had arranged to meet Chen Shilü at the Bar, but he was delayed by traffic. As soon as he arrived, he saw Chen Shilü in a confrontation with a group of young people, accused of secretly filming a girl.

Chen Shilü wasn’t interested in women; that was impossible. Eventually, the misunderstanding was cleared up: he hadn’t filmed a girl, but he had filmed a man opposite him.

Fu Lei scratched the back of his head. “You took a fancy to that guy? He was good-looking, I guess.”

Chen Shilü glanced at him. “Took a fancy to him at first sight? I’m not that desperate.”

Then why did you film him? Fu Lei wanted to ask, but he instinctively felt the question was too loaded with jealousy and inappropriate, so he swallowed it and remained silent.

“The atmosphere was genuinely captivating. I just wanted to record it, nothing else,” Chen Shilü explained, which was the truth. If he had known it would cause such a scene, he wouldn’t have filmed. “Sorry, I caused trouble for you too.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Fu Lei said, feeling a bit awkward. “Where are we going next?”

Honestly, he had been looking forward to tonight’s date. He had even left work early that afternoon to tidy himself up. But given what happened today, he understood if Chen Shilü didn’t want to continue.

“Just take me home,” he said, noticing Fu Lei’s eagerness and feeling slightly apologetic. “Sorry, I really don’t feel like going to a hotel tonight.”

“Is that all we have left?” Fu Lei started the car expressionlessly, driving in a direction that wasn’t Chen Shilü’s home.

Chen Shilü didn’t say anything, letting Fu Lei take him wherever. They had known each other for nearly ten years; Fu Lei was his senior from college. They had been involved since their student days, and everything had happened between them. They were friends, and they were a reliable support system he could entrust things to, but due to differing views on relationships, they had never officially dated.

After driving for about half an hour, Fu Lei brought him to Riverside Park.

The late spring evening breeze was soft and cool, carrying the damp smell of the river, which was quite pleasant. The slight buzz Chen Shilü had from the two drinks he’d had before Fu Lei arrived was completely blown away by the wind.

They walked side-by-side along the riverbank for a while. Chen Shilü was curious how he had discovered this spot and couldn’t help but ask, “Where is this?”

“Xiao Hong and I often came here for walks. The air is good, and there aren aren’t many people. We both liked it here.”

Xiao Hong was Fu Lei’s previous boyfriend. Although Fu Lei hadn’t told him yet, Chen Shilü guessed they must have broken up.

This was Fu Lei’s fifth breakup in recent years. After every breakup, he would immediately come to Chen Shilü. Whether it was part of his healing process or a prelude to restarting his life, he would spend time with Chen Shilü until he met someone new and plunged into the next relationship.

Chen Shilü didn’t mind playing this role in Fu Lei’s life. He wasn’t interested in dating anyway, and he genuinely liked Fu Lei’s reliable personality and muscular physique. In that regard, they were simply satisfying each other’s needs.

“What happened with Xiao Hong?” This relationship of Fu Lei’s had lasted a relatively long time—three years. Chen Shilü had never met Xiao Hong in person, only seen photos on Fu Lei’s social media: a refined, scholarly-looking boy. They seemed well-matched.

“We broke up.”

“I mean, why did you break up? I thought your relationship was pretty stable.”

This time, Fu Lei was silent for a long time before answering. “Six months ago, he cheated. I found out, he apologized, cried and begged me, and I forgave him…”

Chen Shilü sighed, offering no comment, but he couldn’t help but think this might be the curse of most same-sex couples.

“…Later, I went on a business trip out of town and met a guy who was very forward. I honestly didn’t feel anything for him, but I still slept with him. When I came back, I suddenly felt I couldn’t continue, so I confessed and we broke up.”

“Ultimately, you couldn’t truly forgive the betrayal, right? Even betraying him back was a form of self-harm.”

“Yes. Afterward, I hated myself. I felt that because of him, I had become the kind of person I despise.” Fu Lei’s voice was choked up. “Why do relationships that start so well, with sincerity and careful nurturing, always end up like this?”

Chen Shilü patted his shoulder. Fu Lei was considered a good man in their circle. Even if he occasionally had casual encounters like this with Chen Shilü, he was responsible and loyal when he was in a committed relationship. Whatever the reason, this was likely his first time cheating in all these years, so it was no wonder he felt so terrible.

“I don’t know how to comfort you, but I think your standards are too high, Senior. You hope two people will be loyal to each other and remain as deeply in love as they were at the start, even after years. That’s fundamentally anti-human nature.”

“Is it high? Most married couples in the world are like that.”

“Even for straight couples, with the comprehensive binding of marriage, property, and social ties, plus the children they raise together, the divorce rate is nearly fifty percent. And among those who don’t divorce, how many stay together purely because they are still in love?” Chen Shilü’s tone began to sink. “What do we have? Nothing. Relying solely on passion and belief, that kind of relationship is very fragile.”

“We can also bind ourselves—buy a house together, name each other as beneficiaries on insurance policies.” Fu Lei became urgent. “If that’s not enough, we can immigrate, get married, and adopt children.”

“That’s not something most gay people can do.”

“Yes, I wasn’t talking about the community, I was talking about us as individuals. At least we can do it.”

The more Chen Shilü listened, the more something felt off. “You’re so heartbroken this time that you’ve damaged your brain?”

“It was pretty painful, but it’s been three or four months, and I’ve sorted myself out.”

Chen Shilü was a little surprised. Usually, Fu Lei came to him when the pain of the breakup was freshest.

“A-Lü, the real reason I came to you this time is to ask if you’d be willing to try dating me, or at least give me a chance to pursue you.”

“?” Chen Shilü was stunned and stopped walking. “Senior, what kind of joke is this?”

Fu Lei stopped too. “I’m not joking. Among all my friends, we’ve known each other the longest, we know each other inside and out, and we’re compatible in every way. After this breakup, I finally realized that the fundamental reason why none of my relationships worked out is that the person wasn’t you.”

Chen Shilü laughed in exasperation. “If I cheated, would you willingly forgive me?”

“No, based on my understanding of you, someone with such a strong sense of rules—once you commit, you won’t cheat.”

“…” Fu Lei wasn’t wrong about that, but the key was that Chen Shilü would never commit to anyone. “Fu Lei, you’ve really been hit hard this time. I suggest you go talk to a therapist.”

Not wanting to discuss the topic further, Chen Shilü turned and walked toward his car.

Fu Lei chased after him. “Why? You know me so well. If there’s anything you dislike about me, you can tell me, and I can try to change.”

“That’s not the issue. I simply don’t plan on establishing that kind of relationship with anyone. You’ve known that for a long time, haven’t you?”

“I do know, but I don’t understand. Are you worried about getting hurt by a jerk? Can’t you trust me?”

“I told you, it has nothing to do with that. Life is too long. We’re both in our early thirties. If we live to eighty, we still have nearly fifty years left. Spending fifty years face-to-face with the same person, day in and day out, is too difficult. I don’t want to put myself through that. Do you understand?” Chen Shilü got into the passenger seat and told Fu Lei, “Drive. Let’s go home.”

Fu Lei silently started the car. He couldn’t refute that statement, so he just said, “If it becomes too difficult later, we can always break up.”

“Then what’s the point? To love without reservation, give your whole heart, only to gain heartache and embarrassment, and turn someone you value completely into a stranger?”

“…At least you’d have no regrets.”

“No, that’s when you’d truly have regrets. Have you ever considered that the only reason we’ve been able to maintain this relationship for so many years is precisely because we haven’t dated?”

Fu Lei didn’t speak, looking visibly dejected. After a long pause, he mumbled, “But I don’t want to stop here with you. I want to take the next step.”

“You’re just not over your breakup yet, which is why you’re having these crazy ideas. You’ll meet someone new eventually.”

“I’m not interested in anyone else. I have absolutely no desire to meet new people.”

People sometimes laugh when they are utterly speechless. Chen Shilü chuckled and said, “How about this: when we both retire at 65, if you still haven’t found a partner, I’ll be with you. I think I could manage to stick with one person for ten-plus years.”

Hearing this, Fu Lei was also speechless.

After a long time, he asked, “A-Lü, have you never thought about settling down, having someone to keep you company, someone waiting for you at home when you get off work? Don’t you need love and to be loved?”

Chen Shilü thought for a long time, not offering a trace of insincerity. “No. I think it’s because I like being alone too much. I don’t want my space, time, or freedom to be overly occupied by anyone else.”

“Don’t you get bored when you’re by yourself?”

“No. I only feel like I don’t have enough time. I wish the day had 48 hours.”

Fu Lei parked the car outside Chen Shilü’s Residential Complex. Chen Shilü opened the car door, but Fu Lei leaned over, grabbed his wrist, and closed the door again.

His gaze lingered on Chen Shilü’s face. “A-Lü, can I kiss you again?”

They shared a long, lingering kiss.

There was little lust, but plenty of intimacy and trust, imbued with the familiarity of years of knowing each other.

Somehow, as Fu Lei kissed him, Chen Shilü recalled Chi Huang’s kiss from the night before. Only now did he truly savor the unique flavor of that kiss.

Although it was unexpected and intense, and Chi Huang seemed proactive and passionate, it actually carried a sense of cold indifference and detachment. Even though they were engaging in the intimate act of exchanging lips and tongues, and Chi Huang initiated it, he always gave the impression of being emotionally uninvolved. The fact that Chi Huang immediately pulled away when Chen Shilü called a halt proved this point.

This indifference was highlighted even more by Fu Lei’s warm kiss, leaving Chen Shilü puzzled and intrigued.

The alertness and curiosity a person feels toward the inexplicable are the best bait for getting hooked. Chen Shilü wondered if Chi Huang was naturally so cold, or if he was deliberately trying to reel him in.

Chen Shilü got out of the car. Fu Lei watched him eagerly, knowing he wouldn’t be invited inside but still unable to resist asking, “When can I see you again?”

Chen Shilü leaned on the car door, a teasing smile in his eyes. “Anytime you’re free.”

“Alright, I’ll contact you later.”

“But next time, I don’t want to hear any of that nonsense, Senior,” Chen Shilü’s smile deepened slightly.