Chapter 8 (2/2)

Song Yuanxun was not a sociable person, but people would always respond to his invitations. The meal ended at 9pm, and as Song Yuanxun and Zhang Ranyu both had drinks, Zhou Meng drove them back.

Song Yuanxun was a little drunk, and the image of Fang Zhaomu, walking away with his head bowed, refused to leave his head. Not knowing what to say, he then lied to Fang Zhaomu saying that he had finished his overtime, and could go home already.

Fang Zhaomu naturally expressed his sympathy. He then told Song Yuanxun, as his things were too heavy, and the bus stop was too far from his place, by the time he reached home he was so tired that he fell asleep on his bed for two hours, and was about to take a shower now. He even took a photo of his wrist that had turned red because of the bags and sent it to Song Yuanxun.

Fang Zhaomu was very fair, and the red marks were very obvious, looking as though he had been assaulted.

Song Yuanxun was dizzy, and did not know what he was typing. He only knew that he had sent a “it look as though you’ve been bound up”, and “I can drive you there next time”.

When Fang Zhaomu was done with his shower half an hour later, he only responded to Song Yuanxun’s first message, calling him a pervert, then asked him, “Why do you never send any photos to me.”

Song Yuanxun had not come up with a response yet, then Fang Zhaomu sent another message, “It should be mutual, I’ve sent my photos to you, you should send yours to me as well.”

“I’m not good looking.” Song Yuanxun took a long time before he sent this reply.

“It’s fine even if you don’t take a photo of your face,” Fang Zhaomu slowly said. His voice drawled, his words unbroken, and sounded a little dreamy. “I’m also an ordinary person, and am not especially good looking. If you send me a photo, I’ll also let you see how I look like with the ear studs.”

Zhao Han was on a vacation, and was woken up by the vibration of his phone. By the time he woke up, the phone had stopped vibrating. Zhao Han paused for a few seconds before he looked at it. Song Yuanxun had called him twice, then sent him a message. “Where did you find the profile image that you used on the dating app?”

Zhao Han scratched his head as he replied Song Yuanxun. “A few pages into google search for muscles and shirt.”

His reply was sent for only a short while before Song Yuanxun called him again urgently. Picking up the phone, Zhao Han immediately asked, “So hardcore in the middle of the night, gays aren’t disgusting anymore?”

Song Yuanxun was quiet for two seconds before telling Zhao Han, “Not as disgusting as you.”

“Oh,” When Zhao Han comprehended it, he said, “That means it’s completely not disgusting at all.”

“I didn’t find that photo.” Song Yuanxun did not continue, and went straight to the topic.

“Why are you looking for that?”

Song Yuanxun did not respond to his question, only saying, “Look for photos of the same person, and send them all to me.”

He hung up immediately, not leaving Zhao Han any moments to ask anything.