UAAG CH58

The underwater restaurant was one of the Burj Al Arab’s most famous attractions.

At 8 PM, the group returned to the hotel by car and arrived at the lobby. After waiting for about five minutes, they took a submarine to reach the underwater restaurant.

A giant seawater tank, much like an aquarium, stood in the very center of the restaurant, with all dining tables arranged around this cylindrical tank. The GCAA investigators clearly frequented this restaurant and didn’t seem particularly curious. They familiarly recommended seasonal dishes to the five members of UAAG.

Su Fei was surprised: “We came here a few times last month when we weren’t so busy, but we didn’t seem to order what you mentioned.”

Maha smiled: “Sea bass with zucchini. Trust me, it’s truly delicious.”

Normally, in Western countries, dinner is the main meal of the day, unlike in China.

Dinner at the Burj Al Arab’s underwater restaurant is strictly à la carte, with no buffet option. However, Maha had somehow managed to rent out the entire restaurant and arranged for the prepared dishes to be served buffet-style, allowing everyone to taste whatever they liked.

Lina asked, “How much did it cost to book the entire underwater restaurant?”

Maha: “Actually, not that much.” He held up his hand and signaled a number.

Lina was slightly surprised for a moment, then smiled: “Less than I thought.”

Su Fei, listening to their conversation from the side: “…”

Su Fei poked Fu Cheng’s arm: “Listen to that. Is that even human language?”

Fu Cheng was messaging Lowrence. Zhuo Huan had assigned him to write the crash investigation report, and he needed some materials from the NTSB side.

Fu Cheng thought for a moment: “Minors aren’t allowed to drink.”

Su Fei: “…”

Even you, the upright and honest Fu Cheng, have betrayed the cause!!!

There were only five people from UAAG, but quite a few GCAA investigators—about thirty or forty.

Once everyone had arrived via submarine, the reception began.

This party was more relaxed than the one hosted by the NTSB in Boston. There wasn’t as much business socializing; it wasn’t just for networking. Su Fei happily carried his plate around looking for tasty food; Old Joseph kept taking photos and sending them to Lowrence: [Look what you’re missing by not coming back. This is Provençal roast lamb chops.]

[Lowrence: …]

Fu Cheng didn’t dine with everyone else. He sat in a corner of the restaurant, looking down at his phone. After receiving the email from Lowrence and reading it carefully, he seemed to remember he was there to eat. He got up, grabbed a plate, casually picked a few slices of roast meat—lamb or beef, he couldn’t tell—and returned to his corner.

“Watching you eat always makes the food look completely unappetizing.”

Fu Cheng paused, looking up at the lady sitting opposite him: “Does it?”

Lina smiled: “It does, Fu. You seem to be simply consuming food. Whether eating a sandwich or beef fricassee, your expression and movements are the same. Fu, don’t you think you should show more devotion and respect when enjoying fine food?”

Fu Cheng poked a piece of beef with his fork, chewed it, and nodded: “It is quite good.”

Lina smiled without speaking. She stood up: “I see you took some braised scampi; it goes well with white wine. Shall I get you a glass?”

Fu Cheng looked up and smiled: “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Lina blinked. “But you’re not the only one who doesn’t know how to appreciate fine food.”

Fu Cheng: “Who else?”

Lina pointed with her chin towards a spot not far away.

Fu Cheng followed her gaze and saw Zhuo Huan sitting at a table by the seawater tank, leaning back in his chair. His eyes were lowered, expressionless as he looked at the items on the table, then used a small fork to poke a piece of cake and put it in his mouth. Looking closer, one would notice his table was filled entirely with desserts, with only a few main dishes.

Lina mimicked Zhuo Huan’s tone, keeping a straight face: “Delicious food brings happiness? Oh, why not just eat sweets directly? Sugar directly stimulates the brain to secrete dopamine. Wow, so happy.” Lina laughed: “Which winery’s white wine do you prefer?”

Fu Cheng: “Anything is fine.”

Fu Cheng continued to handle emails on his phone while casually eating from his plate with a fork.

With a soft clink, a stemmed glass was placed on the table in front of him. Fu Cheng didn’t look up: “Thank you.”

“Heh, you’re welcome.”

His body froze slightly. Fu Cheng looked up. After a moment, he said, “Aren’t you going to get more food, Teacher Zhuo?”

In the dim light, Zhuo Huan leaned back in his chair, head slightly tilted, watching Fu Cheng. His pupils were light-colored, owing to his one-quarter mixed heritage; at certain angles, a faint hint of light green could be seen. However, in this unlit corner, his long hair fell before his eyes, making his pupils appear dyed in a deep, profound color.

“Writing the investigation report?”

Fu Cheng was silent for a moment: “Mn, preparing some materials in advance.”

Zhuo Huan smiled meaningfully: “Need help?”

Fu Cheng: “No need.”

Zhuo Huan stared at him intently.

The black-haired young man’s expression remained calm and unchanged.

Not far away, Su Fei saw them sitting there and shouted Fu Cheng’s name loudly, then walked over with his plate, dragging Old Joseph along. Su Fei: “Fu Cheng, scoot over.”

Fu Cheng moved over one seat.

Before Old Joseph could speak, Zhuo Huan stood up and also moved over one seat.

Su Fei: “What did you guys get? Let me see. Hey, you didn’t get this small lamb chop. It’s delicious, Fu Cheng, try it.”

Zhuo Huan’s lazy voice sounded: “Aren’t you going to let me try it?”

The punk teen let out an exaggerated “Heh heh,” curled his lip, and said, “Fine, you try it too.”

There was no extra cutlery on the table. When Su Fei and Old Joseph came over, they brought their own knives and forks. Zhuo Huan, however, came empty-handed. He reached out his long arm and took a fork directly from in front of Fu Cheng.

There were seven or eight forks in front of Fu Cheng, yet he specifically took the one Fu Cheng had used.

Fu Cheng quietly watched him take the fork from right under his eyes.

Spearing a piece of cut lamb chop, Zhuo Huan tasted it and scoffed: “Just average.”

Su Fei: “…”

“Just say it, is anything ‘above average’ in your eyes, RIP! If it’s not good, spit it out!”

Zhuo Huan didn’t bother to acknowledge him. He speared food from Fu Cheng’s plate and ate it calmly.

Gradually, Old Joseph and Su Fei started chatting about a giant squid they had just seen in the seawater tank.

After replying to Lowrence’s message, Fu Cheng put down his phone and turned to Su Fei: “Seven or eight meters long? Was it a giant squid?”

Old Joseph looked at him in surprise: “Fu, I didn’t know you knew so much about this.”

Fu Cheng smiled: “I read a little about it a long time ago. By the way, Teacher Zhuo, do you know about marine life?”

Zhuo Huan raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected Fu Cheng to suddenly initiate a conversation with him. He smiled nonchalantly and was about to speak, but suddenly, his voice stopped. After a few seconds, Zhuo Huan hooked the corner of his lips: “I know some. What do you like?”

Fu Cheng looked at him, smiling gently. Under the dark table, hidden by the tablecloth, no one knew that his foot was lightly hooking around the back of Zhuo Huan’s knee. Above the table, he thought for a moment, looked at Zhuo Huan, and said, “What do you think I like, Teacher Zhuo?”

Zhuo Huan gazed at him fixedly, opened his mouth, and said four words with a low laugh.

Su Fei picked his ear: “RIP, what did you say? I didn’t hear clearly.”

Zhuo Huan: “Tsk, would you know even if I said it?”

Su Fei: “How do you know I won’t know if you don’t say it!”

Zhuo Huan: “Oh, Portuguese Man o’ War, do you know it?”

Su Fei: “…”

After looking up a picture of the Portuguese Man o’ War on his phone, the punk teen snorted disdainfully: “Isn’t it just a jellyfish? Of course I know it. RIP, are you slacking off a bit? Why do you care about marine life? Oh right, I heard you big capitalists have to donate money to charity every year, like for ocean protection or something. Did you donate?”

Amidst the low, gentle music, the punk teen’s voice gradually faded into monotonous white noise. Zhuo Huan crossed his arms and looked at Su Fei with disdain—a scornful expression that successfully provoked Su Fei’s annoyance. Fu Cheng lowered his head and ate his beef, his expression as if he were simply eating, but under the table, he lightly hooked his foot around Zhuo Huan’s leg.

Old Joseph sat close to Zhuo Huan. Although he hadn’t clearly heard the four words Zhuo Huan said, he stroked his chin and muttered, “Was it really ‘Portuguese Man o’ War’? Is my Chinese not good enough? It didn’t sound like that.”

Fu Cheng’s hand holding the knife and fork paused for a second.

…

After dinner, everyone took the submarine back to the hotel.

The GCAA investigators naturally didn’t stay at the hotel, so only the five UAAG members entered the elevator together. After pressing the floor button, Su Fei was still talking to Old Joseph about the giant squid they saw in the underwater restaurant.

“The restaurant waiter said there isn’t a giant squid in their tank. How is that possible? Old Joseph, you and I both saw it. It was that big, how could it not be a giant squid?”

Old Joseph spread his hands: “I also think it was a giant squid.”

“Right!”

Arriving at their floor, Old Joseph and Su Fei got off the elevator first.

Next was Lina.

The beautiful blonde woman stood outside the elevator and smiled: “See you tomorrow, Reid, Fu.”

Fu Cheng: “See you tomorrow.”

Zhuo Huan leaned against the elevator handrail and nodded to Lina: “Mn.”

The elevator doors slowly closed, and the originally noisy space suddenly fell silent.

Fu Cheng didn’t speak. Zhuo Huan leaned against the rail, also silent.

After a long while, with a ding, the elevator doors opened.

Fu Cheng walked out of the elevator first. Soon, Zhuo Huan, hands in his pockets, followed behind him and walked out too.

Reaching the door of his room, Fu Cheng took out his key card to open the door. With a crisp click, the door unlocked, but Fu Cheng kept his hand on the handle and didn’t push it open. He turned around: “Teacher Zhuo, aren’t you going back to your room?”

Zhuo Huan stood behind him, eyes smiling as he looked at him: “Fu Cheng, what do you like?”

The exact same question this man had asked him an hour ago in the underwater restaurant.

Lips slightly pursed, Fu Cheng answered calmly, “Actually, I don’t like the Portuguese Man o’ War. I like dolphins.”

Zhuo Huan showed a surprised expression: “Wow, you mean the dolphins that are in heat every day? The only animals besides humans that have sex not for reproduction, but purely because they like it, so they do it every day?”

Fu Cheng: “…”

Fu Cheng said expressionlessly, “I’m going back to my room, Teacher Zhuo.”

“Fu Cheng.”

When he pronounced those two words with a lingering, ambiguous tone, Fu Cheng, who should have been very annoyed with this person, still subconsciously looked up at him. The next second, Zhuo Huan leaned forward abruptly. Fu Cheng froze completely. The man leaned close to his ear, warm breath spraying on his earlobe, and whispered—

“What do you like…”

“You like me.”

The world suddenly went quiet.

Back in the room, the door closed behind him. Fu Cheng leaned against the door panel, standing quietly for a long time. He took a deep breath and finally walked toward the bedroom. First, he took his laptop out of his suitcase and organized the email sent by Lowrence into a document. Then, he grabbed his pajamas and went into the bathroom.

Before long, the sound of splashing water came from the room.

When he came out after blow-drying his hair, the phone screen on the sink was lit up.

Fu Cheng picked it up and looked. His gaze lingered on the name “Zhuo Huan” for a long while before he tapped open the message.

[Zhuo Huan: [Image]]

Fu Cheng frowned.

The photo on the screen was of a hotel room door handle.

Why did he take a picture of this?

[Fu Cheng: ?]

[Zhuo Huan: Can’t get in.]

…?

[Zhuo Huan: Oh, both my key cards are with you.]

After a long silence, Fu Cheng sent a message.

[Fu Cheng: Teacher Zhuo, I remember the door has a keypad lock. You can enter the password to get in.]

[Zhuo Huan: Can’t remember the password.]

Fu Cheng: “…”

[Zhuo Huan: It’s been half an hour. What were you doing before replying?]

Fu Cheng didn’t answer.

[Zhuo Huan: Not coming to open the door for me?]

Three minutes later, holding two key cards, Fu Cheng walked to the end of the corridor.

Next to the warm-colored walls of the hotel, Zhuo Huan leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, watching him approach step by step.

Fu Cheng calmly took the two key cards from his pajama pocket and unlocked the door. He held both cards out to Zhuo Huan: “You could have contacted the front desk and asked them to open the door for you.”

“You showered?”

Fu Cheng: “…Mn.”

“What a coincidence, I did too.”

Fu Cheng nodded. The next moment, realization struck him. He looked up, eyes wide with shock: “Weren’t you waiting at the door without going in…”

His wrist was suddenly seized. Zhuo Huan pressed down the door handle with one hand and dragged Fu Cheng by the wrist with the other, pulling him into the room. The two key cards fell onto the carpet in the entryway, sinking silently into the pile.

After entering the room, Fu Cheng’s world spun. Everything happened too fast. His wrists were pinned, and he was pressed against the door. As soon as he looked up, a kiss tasting faintly of tobacco landed on his lips. Zhuo Huan had also just showered; his shampoo smelled of verbena, but his mouth carried the bitter, heavy taste of smoke.

With one hand holding Fu Cheng’s wrist and the other cupping his cheek, he kissed gently yet frantically.

The biting and sucking of lips and tongue entangled their breathing tightly together. Fu Cheng’s body gradually went soft. Back against the door, he wrapped his arms around Zhuo Huan’s waist, tilting his head back to return the kiss.

While kissing him, Zhuo Huan’s hand naturally fell to the buttons of the pajamas. He undid them one by one.

The kisses moved slowly from soft lips to eyelids, eyelashes, the bridge of the nose…

As the last button came undone, the pajamas seemed ready to be stripped away, but Fu Cheng grabbed his hand.

Deep eyes gazed quietly at the young man before him. Zhuo Huan looked at Fu Cheng without a word. He didn’t speak, but the undeniable, powerful pressure made Fu Cheng’s burning lips turn dry. Straining his voice, he whispered, “Don’t.”

Zhuo Huan looked at him silently.

He didn’t move either, just holding Fu Cheng like that, watching him without a sound.

After a long while, his voice deep and suppressing desire, he said with a faint, ambiguous smile, “Nine months. Fu Cheng, you made me wait for nine months…”

Fu Cheng was silent for a moment: “I didn’t.”

Zhuo Huan lifted his chin, forcing eye contact: “You like me.”

Fu Cheng didn’t speak.

“You like me very much.”

“You want to be with me.”

“You can’t leave me…”

Fu Cheng suddenly said, “I can’t read you. What exactly are you thinking, Zhuo Huan?”

His expression froze for a second. The next moment, Zhuo Huan laughed.

“You really don’t fucking understand!”

Fu Cheng pressed his lips tight, feeling his whole body burning. A voice screamed frantically inside him to turn and leave. To open the door behind him and get out of here. But he couldn’t move.

Then, Zhuo Huan leaned in and bit Fu Cheng’s earlobe.

“I like you…”

In an instant, all reason and thought crumbled.

Fu Cheng stared blankly at the man before him.

Zhuo Huan kissed his eyes, his nose, his lips.

Fu Cheng couldn’t hold back; he kissed him back. And then, things spiraled out of control.

They kissed frantically, passion like a wildfire on a prairie, burning everything in its path.

As if fulfilling its designated purpose, the pajamas were stripped off and thrown on the floor. On the first day they checked into the Burj Al Arab, Fu Cheng had noticed that the condoms were different from other hotels; they weren’t in the bedside table but in a cabinet next to the safe.

However, Zhuo Huan reached out and took a condom directly from the bedside drawer.

The mirror on the bedroom ceiling reflected a dappled array of colors. A dim bedside lamp was left on in the room, light and shadow gradually overlapping. The plastic wrapper was torn open, leaving only the final step. Zhuo Huan lowered his head, kissing the young man before him. The kiss was lingering and romantic, tongue tips licking and biting each other.

But when that moment truly arrived, Fu Cheng suddenly got scared. He turned his face away, dodging Zhuo Huan’s kiss.

But he only dodged the kiss; he didn’t do anything else.

Zhuo Huan paused, looking at him quietly. After a few seconds, he lowered his eyes, and the shadows on the wall merged completely.

Only low pants filled the air.

When the pain was no longer so sharp, Fu Cheng called out hoarsely, “Zhuo Huan…”

“Mn?”

Fu Cheng closed his mouth, saying no more, aside from uncontrollable monosyllabic sounds spilling from his lips.

Nothing.

He just suddenly realized…

He really liked this man.

…

Any sport, no matter where it takes place, consumes considerable energy if sustained for fifty minutes.

The bedside lamp shone dimly. Zhuo Huan leaned against the headboard, a cigarette between his lips. With a click of the lighter, it was lit.

Halfway through earlier, his phone had rung—someone sent a message. Now that they were finished, Zhuo Huan lowered his head to smoke while holding his phone to reply. His clear eyes shimmered with intense color as he slowly exhaled a smoke ring.

Fu Cheng gradually came back to his senses. Lying on the bed, he closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a bit unreal. The back of his right knee still felt hot. Fu Cheng inexplicably thought: Is it because it was held up for so long?

He pursed his lips.

“Got any more smokes?”

A low, husky, sexy voice came from the side. Zhuo Huan paused for a moment, turning his head to look.

He saw Fu Cheng leaning calmly against the headboard, having already sat up.

Zhuo Huan laughed: “All out.”

Fu Cheng frowned, looking at him with suspicion.

Zhuo Huan leaned over and kissed his lips, then, holding the cigarette, placed it into Fu Cheng’s mouth.

Fu Cheng blankly took a drag.

“Hey, Fu Cheng.”

Fu Cheng turned his head to look at Zhuo Huan.

On the young man’s handsome, beautiful face, aside from the calmness and indifference that never changed, there was a rare trace of confusion due to Zhuo Huan’s sudden action just now. It was a bit childish, yet incredibly beautiful.

For some reason, Zhuo Huan suddenly felt his heart settle.

A calmness and clarity he had never felt before.

He put down his phone.

Fu Cheng: “Teacher Zhuo?”

Zhuo Huan lowered his head and planted a kiss on the young man’s lips. It was an extremely light kiss. Fu Cheng didn’t feel it was any different from before, so he frowned slightly.

Zhuo Huan looked at him with a smile and tutted: “You call the person you slept with ‘Teacher’?”

Fu Cheng froze.

“Fu Cheng, teacher-student romance… you’re really good at this.”

“…”

After a long while, in the quiet room, the young man’s clear voice sounded low.

“Zhuo Huan.”

Zhuo Huan was suddenly stunned.

A moment later, he pinched Fu Cheng’s chin, forcing the words out through his teeth one by one: “You really fucking know how to seduce people!” Then he threw off the covers, walked into the bathroom, and started a cold shower.

__

Author’s Note:

Zhuo RIP: Who wouldn’t crave Fu Cheng’s body? I ask you, who could resist?!

Fu Chengcheng: Happy Birthday in advance, Teacher Zhuo.

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