Page 89 of He Is My Bride
“Mmh… I will miss you so much when I’m gone…” Li Ying said, but looking up at Hanjun’s face he found the man had blissfully passed out, still inside him.
ivThe Wu varieties of Sinitic languages, at times simply called Shanghainese, are traditionally perceived as soft in the ears of speakers of both Wu and non-Wu languages, leading to the idiom "the tender speech of Wu".
vChicken (?) is a Cantonese slang word fora prostitute.
Chapter 17: Separation
Li Ying woke up beyond space and time, only knowing he had a consciousness but did nothing with it. His body felt like a burden too heavy to lift. One by one, last night’s events started coming back to him.
I don’t want to get up…Because if he did, he would know exactly how bad he was gonna have it.
Li Ying heard the door open and close in the hallway. Distant voices of Anne and Hanjun, and then the bedroom door opened.
“Still in bed?” Anne’s voice asked. “You better get up and shower and start making yourself presentable, we’re leaving for the airport in a few hours.”
“Can’t I just die instead?”
“That bad, huh?” Anne took out his luggage and started packing. “We’ll leave most things here at Hanjun’s, you won’t be using these clothes back home anyway, so when you come back, they’ll wait for you here.”
“I want the McQueens. And the cute things, the bunny shoes, the Miu Miu dress…”
“Will you use them?”
“Yes.” He just might, Li Ying thought. Girling it out was fun.
Li Ying bit the bullet and gingerly lifted himself from the bed. His head was thumping, but it wasn’t too bad. He would need an ibuprofen, a big cup of coffee, and some food, and he would clear out by the evening. That said, he might need a bag for takeoff.
Li Ying left Anne to pack his things and dragged himself to the kitchen, where the delicious smell of chicken noodle soup wafted from. Hanjun was there with a big bowl in front of him. Although Hanjun sat straight as a bamboo shoot and spooned soup into his mouth with slow, deliberate movements, Li Ying noticed his hand shaking ever so slightly.
“Good morning,” Li Ying greeted, “how do you feel?”
“Hm.”
“Yeah, same.” Li Ying popped a pill for the headache and drank straight from the tap, filled himself a bowl of healing soup and joined Hanjun.
“Do you remember anything from last night?” Li Ying asked.
Hanjun thought for a good moment. “…No.” It was all a blur.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“‘Pya pya.’”
“Okay, did anyone break the news to you yet?”
Hanjun looked at him questioningly. Li Ying sighed.
“So you basically passed out on the couch and took a short nap, then woke up and stretched real good so that your fist hit Wang Hao so hard he flew across the room. Then you chucked his bitch off me because we were tussling, and then you ran away carrying me before the security came, then we came home and you were just chilling until I tucked you in. And we had some pretty good sex, yeah.”
Hanjun stared at Li Ying for a second in silence, letting that all sink in.
He sighed heavily and proceeded to spoon broth into his mouth. All in all it seemed the straight-laced man was taking the recounting of his drunken escapades better than expected. It was true Hanjun’srecollection of last night was hazy, but if hehadpunched his least favorite cousin and made his boyfriend happy, well, night well spent.
“All in all, I think it was a pretty good night out.” Li Ying concluded and went to town on his noodles.
After the meal he felt much better, although not a hundred percent, went to take a shower, and put on some light makeup.
He wore just some athleisure for travel comfort: gray joggers and a matching hoodie and the bunny ballerinas, black cap with his hair on a low messy bun, and he would be sure to put on the big Gucci sunglasses when going through the airport, not wanting the press to catch his tired eyes although he could be sure last night’s shenanigans would end up in the press somehow.
