Mistaken Canary Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Struck by his stunning beauty, Ying Tongchen was seized by a sudden impulse. He found himself moving without conscious thought, drawn into the room.
He barely had time to register his surroundings when the man before him said curtly, "Go take a shower."
…
Moments later, the world seemed to refocus, and Ying Tongchen realized he was sitting in the bathroom. The alcohol buzzed faintly in his veins, yet his mind remained alarmingly clear. He pulled out his phone and quickly sent a WeChat message to his close friend.
[Ying]: You there?
[Ying] nudged [Not Meng Gong*], mmm what a perky butt[1].
(TLN: This is a pun. Meng Gong’s name (孟功;mèng gōng) sounds like ‘猛攻(měng gōng)’ which translates to ‘strong gong’)
"......"
Unfortunately, Meng Gong's butt was nudged into putty, yet he remained completely unresponsive—probably still busy dropping off that kid.
Left with no other option, Ying Tongchen exited WeChat and turned to the internet, quickly searching for the proper steps to… well, clean up. Although he’d looked it up ages ago, a refresher wouldn’t hurt—better safe than sorry.
After taking a shower and completing the task at hand, he slipped into a bathrobe and stepped out of the bathroom.
The sound of the door opening startled the man. He fumbled and hastily shoved a bottle under his pillow.
"What are you looking at?" Ying Tongchen blurted out without thinking. After all, such sneaky behavior was practically a daily occurrence in his line of work.
The man coughed awkwardly and patted the pillow, clearly trying to deflect the conversation. "Nothing. It’s nothing."
But Ying Tongchen had already pieced it together—lubricant. He couldn’t seriously be checking the instructions now, could he?
"You—"
"I was just checking the expiration date!" The man suddenly blurted out, his voice a little too loud.
"Oh." Ying Tongchen glanced at him, noticing the serious expression paired with slightly reddened ears. Oddly enough, the man’s awkwardness settled his own nerves. He sat down beside him.
The man subtly shifted a centimeter away.
This wasn’t at all like the commanding and domineering figure Ying Tongchen had imagined. Intrigued, he asked, "What’s your name?"
Clearing his throat, the man replied, "Ahem, Zhuo Shu. Didn’t they notify you?"
"No." Ying Tongchen furrowed his brow, "So… your surname is Ahem?"
"Oh no—my surname is Zhuo."
"Oh."
Zhuo Shu paused before asking, "And you?"
"Ying Tongchen (应同尘). Ying as in ‘ought to(应该)’, and Tongchen, from ‘concealed brilliance, as humble as dust (和光同尘)’."
"I see."
The air grew uncomfortably stiff.
No, this was not the desired ambience for a booty call. After all, it was this man who personally had arranged this hookup. And after years of being single, Ying Tongchen was more than ready—hell, eager—to jump at the chance when someone finally checked all his boxes. With a touch of alcohol, the perfect lubricant, things should’ve been heating up by now.
Shouldn't this have felt like ‘Heavenly Thunder Ignites Earthly Fire[2]’, a blazing connection, a guaranteed home run?
So why did it feel more like two elementary school kids shyly introducing themselves for the first time?
Ying Tongchen sighed internally. He had no choice but to keep the conversation going. "How old are you?" he asked, forcing a casual tone.
Zhuo Shu instinctively opened his mouth to answer but then a thought stopped him. Wait, I'm supposed to be the one in charge here. The bankroller. He needed to project an air of command. Abruptly changing tack, he said curtly, "Lie down."
"?"
Wait—what? How had the conversation taken such a sharp turn??
Ying Tongchen hesitated, briefly considering whether he should play along with the sudden shift and feign shyness. But before he could decide, his eyes landed on the man, who was now completely naked.
With a chiseled chest, defined abs, and that sharp mermaid line, Zhuo Shu’s body was a sight to behold. Ying Tongchen’s eyes lingered appreciatively for half a second before he promptly lay down, straight as a board, bracing himself with no small amount of anticipation.
The preparations were in place. The two men, barely acquainted, were about to officially establish diplomatic relations. The high-speed train was about to depart, and space station Tiangong-1 was ready for docking.
As the “spaceship” touched down, Ying Tongchen’s pupils widened in shock.
Fuck.
…
Moments later, Ying Tongchen lay drenched in sweat, struggling to catch his breath as he collapsed limply onto the bed. Staring at the man before him—his chiseled jaw and deep-set eyes—he let out a long, defeated sigh.
What a pity. Such a handsome guy, yet his skills were inversely proportional to the size of his junk.
Zhuo Shu, still unsatisfied, was preparing for a second launch.
At least, Ying Tongchen thought, he should probably try to boost the guy’s confidence—it was their first time, after all. Racking his brain for a suitable response, he groaned louder than necessary, "OMG, you’re so big! It’s too good, I’m about to die—can we please stop?"
Zhuo Shu looked at the “poor little thing” before him. Ying Tongchen's aloof expression was softening, almost on the verge of tears. His pleading voice, though feigned, was sweet and seductive—pleasing, to say the least. Though he wouldn't have minded a few more rounds, the contract still had a long way to go, and time is on his side. Reluctantly, he paused the “expedition”, letting out a contented sigh.
In his mind, he thought: As expected, kept lovers are always so obedient and capable. This was definitely worth it!
Ying Tongchen lay limply in bed, like a salted fish. "Carry me to the bathroom," he mumbled.
"?" Audacious mUcH?!
Zhuo Shu looked at him in surprise. Did other people's lemans order their bankroller around so confidently? He inwardly scoffed, unsurprised if the next step was a sudden, dramatic declaration of undying affection.
"Don’t worry," Ying Tongchen said with a smirk, "this is just a situationship; it's not as if we’re actually dating—we each take what we need." He chuckled. "But as a gentleman, it wouldn’t be too much to give me a bath, right?"
He paused, then added with a wince, "After all, you’re too big, and I’m in too much pain."
"!"
Dazed, Zhuo Shu carried him to the bathroom, Ying Tongchen's effusive praise continued to ring in his ears as Zhuo Shu carefully scrubbed his back.
Ying Tongchen leaned back comfortably in the bathtub, studying Zhuo Shu. "Was this your first time?"
Zhuo Shu blinked, caught off guard. "How did you know?"
Nonsense, Ying Tongchen thought. We just did it together—how could I not know?
"Was this your first time too?" Zhuo Shu asked, immediately regretting the question as soon as it left his lips. If this man did this often, he would’ve been a famous celebrity long ago. "You’re right,” he amended, “we each take what we need. Don’t worry, I’ll help you."
"Help me?" Ying Tongchen turned around with a teasing smile. "Then help me scrub again. Your scrubbing skills are really something."
Zhuo Shu gritted his teeth. This little thing was adept at taking advantage of others!
With a frustrated growl, he threw the towel into the water, his gaze darkening. "Tell me where!"
Minutes later, they lay sprawled on the bed, utterly spent. Zhuo Shu felt the last vestiges of desire drain away. The mere thought of another grueling session of ‘the eighteen positions of scrubbing’ before dawn was enough to fill him with dread. How would he even function at work tomorrow?
As he drifted off, he could’ve sworn he was kicked a few times in his sleep. It was a soft, almost comforting sensation—strangely pleasant.
…
The next morning, Zhuo Shu opened his eyes to find a man lying next to him.
The soft light highlighted the man's fair, translucent skin, his features strikingly close. High nose bridge, thick lashes, full, moist lips—the picture was almost ethereal, especially with his hair falling across his forehead, half-veiling his eyes.
Zhuo Shu had often heard rich second-gens[3] boast of their glamorous lives, particularly how their lovers would rise before dawn to apply makeup and then feign sleep, hoping to seduce their bankrollers in bed all morning.
Suspecting this one might have done the same, he pinched the man's cheek, finding no trace of powder. He gazed at the soft pink lips again, and as he leaned closer for a better look, the man suddenly sneezed.
"..." Audacious!
The young financial backer awkwardly touched his face, a sting of embarrassment rising. He rose from the rumpled, still-warm sheets to clean himself up. Turning to the mirror, he caught sight of the glaring scratches on his back.
"..." Audacious!
He decided he'd have to talk to other financial backers about disciplining their lovers—specifically, about setting clear expectations.
Dressed, he returned to the bed, silently taking in the scene. Clothes scattered like fallen leaves, the wallet a silent invitation. It was all too obvious, wasn’t it? Wasn’t this just waiting for him to transfer money?
He opened the wallet and his eyes were immediately drawn to the photo on the ID card. He gazed intently at the photo for a few moments, then turned his head to compare it with the person still lying on the bed. The photo looked slightly more youthful, but otherwise, there was little difference.
Nice, no plastic surgery.
The wallet held a paltry sum—just two bank cards and a handful of membership cards.
So impoverished.
Zhuo Shu took out one of the bank cards, committed the number to memory, and slipped it back into the wallet.
His assistant, waiting downstairs, enthusiastically greeted him as he emerged looking refreshed. "Boss, you’re looking as formidable as ever—awe-inspiring! Your complexion is positively glowing!"
Zhuo Shu raised an eyebrow, slid into the car, picked up his iPad, and began searching Ying Tongchen's name on the Internet.
After a moment, he sighed quietly.
Ying Tongchen was a ghost. Nonexistent in the entertainment industry.
How had he even managed to muddle through all this time?
He put the tablet away and instructed, "Help me make the transfer to this bank account."
"Understood."
"Wait." Zhuo Shu frowned slightly. "How much do those back scrubbers usually charge?"
"Ten yuan, I go to the bathhouse often," the assistant said cheerfully.
"What? Only ten yuan?" Zhuo Shu couldn’t believe it. "How can such a hard job only cost ten yuan?"
"It depends,” the assistant replied. “A public bathhouse charges about ten yuan. But a high-end spa, with all the amenities… that's another story. Hundreds, even thousands. It depends on the location, the attendant's appearance… and," he added, glancing in the rearview mirror with a suggestive smile, "special services can command a premium."
Zhuo Shu mentally assessed the value: the lavish five-star hotel suite, his own first-rate attractiveness, and those special services. Eight thousand eight hundred eighty-eight yuan an hour seemed a reasonable estimate, he decided.
"Take out 8888 yuan from the transfer total."
As a businessman, it's always about the clear settlement of interests.
Assistant: "?"
…
When Ying Tongchen woke up, it was already noon. He rubbed his waist as he got out of bed, his walking posture far from its usual elegant and dashing self.
After tidying up, he went downstairs as though nothing had happened and checked out his room at the front desk. It was then the receptionist informed him that the bill had already been settled.
He thought about the bill—one night probably offset his three months' salary. A knot tightened in his stomach. Never again, he vowed silently.
Wait, how could there be a next time?
Ying Tongchen walked to the parking lot where his Magotan (Volkswagen) awaited him, got into the car, and drove home to his apartment, conveniently located near the school where he worked.
The school offered accommodation for teachers, and the overall environment was decent. However, he considered the potential awkwardness of bringing someone there if he were ever to have a partner, given his sexual orientation. So, he opted to rent a nearby two-bedroom, one-living-room apartment.
His old man had pushed him to buy a place, but the area was overrun with school district homes. They were prohibitively expensive, and since he wasn't planning on having children, he decided it was more prudent to use the funds to renovate his father's house and update the appliances.
After returning home, he took a shower and tossed his clothes into the washing machine when his phone rang—it was his old man.
He mentioned receiving a text from the bank, stating that an additional twenty or thirty thousand yuan had been deposited into the account. The amount was oddly precise—a clean number.
Ying Tongchen paused for a moment before replying, "It’s probably the money from the studio."
During his time at university, he partnered with a few classmates to start a translation studio. What began as handling small projects has unexpectedly grown into a well-known and reputable young studio in the industry.
His old man hesitated, "Is that so? Oh, by the way… that card seems to be...missing. Don’t transfer money into it in the future."
Ying Tongchen had visited his old man just the day before. He pulled out his wallet, and as he had expected, his old man had stuffed the card inside. "Oh, it’s with me. I’ll give it to you next time I visit."
"Aiya, no need. I can’t use all the money on this card. Keep it for yourself." His old man hadn’t expected him to find out so quickly. "You’re a grown-up now, and you have to spend money on things. You’re almost 30—it's time to find a partner."
"Then what about you? You are almost 60 years old. Why haven’t you found a partner?"
After chatting for a while longer, the call ended. Ying Tongchen opened his WeChat and saw that Meng Gong had finally replied.
[Not Meng Gong]: What's up, xiōngdì? Did everything go well?
[Not Meng Gong]: Did you call the cops? Why didn’t I see your courageous and righteous actions on the latest local news?
Ying Tongchen paused for a moment, recalling the events of the night before, then replied, "I didn’t call the cops, but he did cop a feel."
[Not Meng Gong]: Holy fuck! What do you mean? He took a liking to you?
[Ying]: It was mutual.
[Not Meng Gong]: ? ? ? sus
Meng Gong called directly, confirming with him repeatedly before sighing, "I thought we agreed to be single and bitchy together. You traitor!"
"Mm-mm. You’re wrong, I’m still single."
Meng Gong suddenly got excited. "Tha—That thrilling?"
"That thrilling."
"How was he?"
Ying Tongchen paused for a moment, then replied with sincere honesty, "Five stars for looks, but a thumbs-down for his skills."
"…Do I have to ask for permission, or can I just laugh?"
(TLN: This is a meme in china—once a netizen had posted something where every commenter just basically wrote ‘lolololol’ and the OP said they aren’t allowed to laugh. To which someone retorted, ‘So I have to ask permission before I laugh’?)
"…"
"But was his face really five stars?! You almost never rate anyone five stars!" Meng Gong was clearly more excited than Ying Tongchen, "Xiōngdì, you'd better hold onto this fated pecker. Poor skills can be worked on, but it's almost impossible to find a top with a good-looking face!"
"…………"
"I just did a divination with my fingers, this man’s pecker might just be your fated one!"
Ying Tongchen: "..."
It’s painful to be single, but that doesn’t mean I want a painful a.nus.
.
.
.
TL Note: I’m dying, this novel is too funny. The only complaint is that I’m not in tune with all the slang and memes, so it takes me much longer to research and explain to you and myself haha. Also, some of the puns don’t translate directly, so I took the liberty to change it slightly, but the intended meaning should still be the same.
—
Footnotes:
[1] Ying nudged [Not Meng Gong], mmm what a perky butt - Tickling/Nudging is another way to grab someone’s attention in WeChat. Simply double-tapping on the recipient’s icon in the chat and they will receive a little ‘nudge’. The latter part (mm what a perky butt) is a custom suffix you can set whenever you nudge a person.
[2] Heavenly Thunder Ignites Earthly Fire (天雷勾地火) - This phrase originally describes a thunderclap so powerful that it sparks fires on the ground. Metaphorically, it now often refers to the explosive passion between a man and a woman—or even same-sex couples—at the moment of intense chemistry or attraction.
[3] Rich second-gens - Fuerdai (富二代; lit. 'rich second generation) is a Chinese term for the children of the nouveau riche in China. Basically, trust fund babies.