Crossdress Ch9

That gaze was far too aggressive. Even separated by the crowd, it felt as though it licked across his skin inch by inch.

Xu Yan shut his eyes and gave his head a hard shake. When he opened them again, the dizziness worsened.

The inexplicable pressure vanished. The person who had been staring at him was also gone.

Did he imagine it?

Xu Yan looked down at the juice in his hand. His face felt faintly warm, like it was being steamed. He pressed the cold cup against his cheek, squishing the soft flesh slightly.

“It’s kind of hot…”

Li Huaiche glanced at his drink. “You’re probably drunk. I don’t feel hot at all.”

Xu Yan blinked. “But I’m drinking juice.”

Li Huaiche chuckled. “Juice? That’s a cocktail. And probably a pretty strong one too. How many have you had? Didn’t realize?”

Xu Yan licked his lips, still tasting the sweet fruity flavor.

He’d never had cocktails before. Didn’t know they could look so deceiving—and taste so sweet. He had no idea how many glasses he drank earlier.

Li Huaiche said helpfully, “You should stop drinking. You don’t seem to handle alcohol well. Can you get back on your own? One of my friends drove here—want a ride?”

“That’s okay.” Xu Yan cooled his face a bit and felt like his head had cleared up. “I think I’m fine. Not that drunk, plus I came with a friend.”

“Alright then. We might stay late. If the dorms are closed, we just won’t go back,” Li Huaiche said. “You should head back earlier. Don’t wander off—too many sketchy people tonight.”

Xu Yan nodded. “Okay.”

Since moving into the same dorm, Li Huaiche had looked out for him—maybe because he was a year younger. He always treated him like a kid… but Xu Yan was already an adult.

Li Huaiche didn’t stay long before heading into a private room with some friends. Xu Yan stayed alone on the sofa, no longer daring to drink the juice.

That burning heat he’d suppressed earlier slowly returned. Xu Yan sent a message to Shen Nanli, then stood up too fast—his vision went dark, and he nearly fainted.

He steadied himself, slapped his dizzy head, and headed outside for some air.

***

On the side of the banquet hall, there was a terrace—quiet and secluded.

A faint red glow lit up the darkness. Smoke curled in the air. A long, slender hand rested on the railing.

The cigarette burned halfway down before it was brought to the lips for a light bite.

Chen Xun walked over after finishing a call. “That your dad?”

Wen Sinian answered with a cold hum.

“Something wrong at home?”

“No,” Wen Sinian said flatly. “Just told me he was getting married next week.”

“That soon? Isn’t this the sixth time?” Chen Xun raised an eyebrow. “You going?”

Wen Sinian’s mother had died early and never lived a good life. Not long after her passing, his father, Wen Zhendong, struck it rich and married a young trophy wife—then divorced. Then married again. Then divorced again.

Over the years, he’d been married six times. The mistresses, flings, and side relationships never stopped.

Wen Sinian had always known. Even when his mother was alive, his father was like this. No one knew the things he had seen—men, women—the mess so filthy it defied description.

In recent years, he moved out and started his own studio, cutting most ties with his father.

Just now, the call was full of yelling and cursing, full of drama, as if father and son shared some deep bond. Claimed the wedding couldn’t happen unless he attended.

Wen Sinian didn’t feel a thing. Just listened calmly—wasn’t even angry.

He flicked the ash from his cigarette. “Depends.”

Chen Xun sensed he might actually go. “I heard this one’s younger than you?”

“Yeah.”

It was family business—Chen Xun didn’t press further. Whether Wen Sinian went or not was his call.

Chen Xun pulled out a cigarette of his own but didn’t have a lighter. “Got a light?”

Wen Sinian replied instantly, “No.”

Chen Xun glanced at the cigarette already burning in his hand. “Flint and sticks, then?”

Two seconds later, Wen Sinian reluctantly took out a lighter.

Chen Xun took it, puzzled by the moody behavior—but then noticed the lighter felt off. It was light… like plastic.

He used the cheap little thing to light his cigarette, then handed it back. Wen Sinian took it, spun it between his fingers, and tucked it carefully into his pocket.

Chen Xun: “……”

Who’d steal your precious plastic lighter?

“You fallen this far?” Chen Xun asked. “Things not going well at the studio?”

Wen Sinian didn’t answer. His gaze drifted past the glass doors back into the banquet hall.

One of his dormmates, Li Huaiche, was laughing it up with a group of guys—arms slung over shoulders, clearly having a great time.

The other roommate… was nowhere to be seen.

***

Xu Yan had been outside for a while. The breeze had chilled him, but he still felt fuzzy and weak in the knees.

He didn’t think he was drunk. He believed if he just fought through it, he’d be fine.

Following the path outside, he circled around and entered through another door.

According to his memory, he just needed to go left, then right, and he’d be back in the banquet hall. But the layout of the place was far too complex.

He ended up walking the entire perimeter of the ground floor… and didn’t find a single entrance.

He ruffled his hair and tried going back the way he came—only to get even dizzier.

He could hear the banquet crowd bustling nearby, almost as if they were within reach… so why couldn’t he find his way in?

Xu Yan kept walking in circles around the long hallway, spiraling until what little clarity he had regained began to unravel.

Finally, at a corner, he stood still and stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

Suddenly, voices drifted in from nearby. His eyes lit up. He quickly followed the sound, hoping someone could help him find the way back.

The voices faded… vanishing into the stairwell of an emergency exit.

Xu Yan, afraid the people might leave, rushed over. Just as his hand touched the metal handle, he caught a glimpse through the small glass window on the door—what he saw made his breath catch.

Two figures were tangled together, pressed against the wall, their bodies clinging as if they wanted to crush each other’s bones. The faint sounds of panting and wet kisses leaked through the crack in the door, the lingering moans practically igniting sparks in the air.

Xu Yan’s fingers immediately recoiled from the handle, as if the heat inside had scorched him.

The two inside had no idea someone was watching. Their tight embrace shifted positions, and just then, the motion-sensor light above them flicked on. When Xu Yan saw who one of them was, his eyes widened in shock, lips parting as he forgot how to breathe.

The two people kissing were both men.

And the one pressed to the wall, chin lifted to accept the kiss, was—Lin Xingxian.

Xu Yan’s brain crashed from the overload. He almost gasped aloud from the shock.

Before the light in the corridor could go out again, a pair of hands suddenly attacked from behind.

One arm wrapped fully around his waist, fingers pressing into his back while a thumb firmly pinched the soft flesh on his side. The other hand reached up, thumb and forefinger pinching his cheek, forcing his mouth shut.

It was a reflex, his body preparing to scream—but a low voice pressed right into his ear.

“Quiet.”

Recognizing the voice, Xu Yan choked down the panic in his throat. Through the glass, he could see himself completely shielded by a tall, broad-shouldered figure.

Thankfully, the pair inside were too busy with each other to notice anything.

Then, he felt himself lifted like a kitten by the waist and carried through another door.

Inside, he was spun around and pressed against a wall. The hand covering his mouth remained, and the person stood so close that their breaths tangled in the silence.

Lacking oxygen, Xu Yan’s face flushed red and dewy. Half of his face was trapped under a large hand, his eyes shimmering and misty, looking like he was about to cry.

Wen Sinian finally loosened his grip a little and whispered a warning: “Someone’s coming.”

Indeed, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, growing closer.

Xu Yan dared not even breathe. His eyes widened, lashes wet with tears and clumped together, trembling as he stared ahead. The corners of his eyes were tinged red, as if stained by tears.

His jaw began to ache. He closed his teeth slowly, grinding them once on the palm at his mouth, then stopped, shrinking back in hesitation.

Wen Sinian’s gaze remained lowered, clearly uninterested in the people outside.

He slowly pulled back his thumb, forcing Xu Yan’s lips apart just slightly.

In the dim light—only faint yellow light slipping in through the glass—he could see it clearly. Deep inside, there was a small, flushed patch of red.

The people outside passed the door and moved farther away.

Xu Yan, already dizzy, now stood even less steadily with the lack of air.

Feeling faint, he grabbed the hand across his chest and murmured something muffled, teeth nudging the palm of the hand covering his mouth again.

Wen Sinian could smell the faint sweetness of alcohol and fruit on him.

Understanding that Xu Yan was complaining of discomfort, he finally, slowly, pulled his hand away.

Unfortunately, Xu Yan couldn’t hold himself upright. He wobbled a bit and began to slide down the wall.

Luckily, Wen Sinian caught him again by the waist, steadying him.

His fingers were slightly damp. Wen Sinian didn’t wipe them. He looked down and asked:

“Can you stand?”

Xu Yan touched his chin and nodded hard, pressing against the wall with determination. His whole little face scrunched up from effort.

“I’m standing,” Xu Yan said confidently.

“Let go now?” Wen Sinian asked.

“O-okay.”

The hand at his waist slowly retreated.

“See? I’m standing all by myself!” Xu Yan beamed with pride. “Aren’t I amazing?”

“Mm,” Wen Sinian propped his leg between Xu Yan’s knees to help bear some of the weight, “very amazing.”

Then, he raised his hand and gently wiped the shimmering gloss from Xu Yan’s lips.