He took a blistering hot shower to get the sweat off, and then turned the water ice-cold at the end just to give himself enough of a shock to stay awake.

This appointment was with Kang Haichi.

The last appointment had been pretty unofficial—something that Kang Haichi requested at the last minute, which Xiaokai only went to because he was too injured to go meet Chen Jun. This one was more official. Xiaokai was prepared for it. If Kang Haichi brought along anything pertinent to taking down the List, Xiaokai would get it.

It was the usual kind of thing. Xiaokai stripped slowly on the bed while he jacked himself off. Kang Haichi panted and drooled and fucked his fist before he came inevitably crawling over to Xiaokai to swallow him down. Xiaokai let him get exhausted, told him to shower first, and while he was away Xiaokai did the other part of the job.

He was out in exactly two hours, the stolen information tucked neatly into his briefcase. He was on the fifth floor still. He had to walk past room five-two-zero to get to the elevator.

He stopped in front of the door. His hand lifted to knock.

Weiran could distract him. It wasn’t that he could talk to him—he could still see the disgust in Weiran’s face; it was badly disguised, if he was trying to disguise it. No, it was because Weiran loved Xingyu.

If he seduced Weiran—

He didn’t even know how to explain it to himself. He knew it would help. He knew it would help him get to sleep. It was just cruel enough—just malicious enough—that it would make Xiaokai forget everything else. Everything else that he hated himself for.

His hand fell back to his side.

He turned and walked to the elevator.

“HOW LONG HAVE you been in love with Xingyu?”

Weiran sputtered for a minute, blinking rapidly. Xiaokai was just watching him calmly, his legs crossed at the ankle. He looked unbearably handsome like this—the pants hugging his long legs, his jacket slung over his arm, his shirt open three buttons down the collar and bearing a smooth expanse of flesh. Weiran couldn’t detect any emotion on his face, even after spending the last two days with him—he wondered if it was because Xiaokai genuinely did not feel anything strong enough to show, or if it was because Xiaokai was hiding whatever he was feeling. Weiran couldn’t even tell that he was sick anymore.

“You can lie if you want to, but I think we both know the truth.”

“I’m—I’m not sure. Not long after I met him.”

Xiaokai’s tongue traced his bottom lip. “What attracted you to him?”

“I don’t know. One day he was my friend, the next…well.”

“Why haven’t you told him?”