Mistaken Canary Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Ying Tongchen fled back to his apartment in the dead of night, the "dirty goods"—the stuffed doll—in tow. After its recorded content finished playing, it automatically shut off.
Once home, he grabbed a pair of scissors, the cold, sharp point gleaming ominously. One swift cut, and chibi version Zhuo Shu's face would be ruined.
He paused, the scissors creeping down—a cut here, and the doll's lower half would be history.
"Argh!" Ying Tongchen growled, unable to bring himself to do it in the end. He tossed the doll aside and collapsed onto the couch, utterly mortified, feeling as if he could never face anyone again.
He concluded that he would not see his old man for a while.
Of course, just as Ying Tongchen was wallowing in shame, his phone vibrated. He opened it to find a message from the very culprit.
[Zhuo Shu]: Got lectured by an old man… Mighty tiger sheds tears.jpg
[Zhuo Shu]: Mighty tiger sheds tears.jpg
[Zhuo Shu]: You there?
[Ying Tongchen]: Serves you right! Bastard
[Zhuo Shu]: ? Say that again
[Ying Tongchen]: Laozi suffocate you to death with manure scoop.jpg
[Zhuo Shu]: Audacious! Laozi will suffocate you to death with my manure scoop.jpg
[Ying Tongchen]: You’ve got some nerve stealing my emote stickers! You bastard! Laozi suffocate you to death with eight manure scoops.jpg
[Zhuo Shu]: I see you’re out of control! Wait for it! Laozi will suffocate you to death with eight manure scoops.jpg
Their WeChat conversation fell apart, neither willing to respond.
Ying Tongchen placed his phone aside, his gaze lingering on the chibi Zhuo Shu doll sprawled on the couch. A low, sinister laugh slipped from his throat as he pulled a rope from his toolbox.
…
It was nearly eleven o'clock when Ying Tongchen took a hot shower. As he dried his hair, an image of another hand drying his hair flashed through his mind.
He shook his head, pushing the thought of that bastard aside.
Tossing his clothes into the washing machine on his balcony, he leaned casually against the railing and noticed a pack of cigarettes on the small table nearby. It was only then that he realized he hadn’t smoked in days.
His smoking habit used to be quite heavy. The old man, along with Meng Gong and Lu Zongcai, had repeatedly tried to get him to quit. Eventually, with his busy work schedule, he gradually stopped, but occasionally, he would indulge in one just to unwind.
Ying Tongchen reached for the pack, shook it, and a cigarette popped out. He held it between his fingers, his other hand flicking the lighter. His gaze lingered for a moment before he put the cigarette down and turned to head back inside.
He had found a better way to wind down—giving the chibi Zhuo Shu doll a few punches.
Feeling refreshed, Ying Tongchen was about to settle back into his thoughts when there was a knock at the door—first two light taps, followed by three heavy ones.
Turning around, he called out, "Who's there?"
No answer.
He walked to the door and peeked through the peephole, seeing no one. Instinctively, he reached for a long-handled umbrella by the door.
The knocking came again.
He opened the door, raising the umbrella in front of him, ready to strike, only to see Zhuo Shu dart from the side of the door. Without thinking, he pressed the umbrella's release mechanism.
As Zhuo Shu approached, he was suddenly greeted by an umbrella spinning open with a loud whoosh right above his head, making it seem as if he wandered into some bizzare welcome ceremony.
Zhuo Shu: "......?"
"Don't pull these flashy ceremonies again," he said with distaste, glancing at Ying Tongchen.
Ying Tongchen: This is your welcome ceremony—to death.
"Where are your slippers?" Zhuo Shu asked, scanning the entryway. He tapped his foot, his look demanding attention. "Find me a new pair, now."
"Coming to greet your own death at this hour, are you?" Ying Tongchen grumbled, putting the umbrella away and pulling out a near-new pair of slippers from under the shoe cabinet. "There are no new ones left, so you'll have to make do with these."
"I'm not the kind of person who 'makes do,'" Zhuo Shu retorted defiantly.
"Then walk barefoot or get out."
Zhuo Shu shot him a glare, cursing under his breath as he slipped into the slippers, muttering as he made his way toward the living room. "The main reason I'm here is to get some payback. That infiltrating attitude you displayed while speaking to me on WeChat earlier, I want you—wait, what's that?!"
Zhuo Shu stopped abruptly, his anger now directed at the sofa.
Ying Tongchen followed his gaze and saw the doll, a chibi version of Zhuo Shu. What was more striking was that the plush was tied to the pillow with rope.
Ying Tongchen: "."
"What on earth did you do to it?!" Zhuo Shu furrowed his brows, his voice sharp. He plopped down heavily on the sofa, then gently freed the pitiful little chibi version of himself, his face etched with distress. "Give me a reasonable explanation."
Ying Tongchen rubbed his temples. "Don’t even get me started. What’s with that audio recording?"
"Uh? What recording?"
Ying Tongchen observed Zhuo Shu's genuinely confused expression, which didn’t seem feigned. Surprised, he asked, "It wasn’t your doing?"
"What did I do?" Zhuo Shu turned his head to look at the chibi doll, his eyes softening as he stared at it. He seemed to find it more adorable the longer he looked, reaching out to gently stroke its face.
Ying Tongchen: "Don’t!!!"
It was too late. Zhuo Shu had already pressed the recording switch, and Ying Tongchen's ‘mm’s and ‘ah’s played once again.
Ying Tongchen experienced, yet again, a social death—no longer willing to face society.
Zhuo Shu's eyes lit up: How wonderful.
"Turn it off, now!" Ying Tongchen raised his voice.
Zhuo Shu pressed the switch again, finding it had no effect. He explained, "Maybe because I pressed for an expedited product and they didn't have time to finish it. This is probably just a semi-finished product. The audio must be from when we were caught up in what we were doing last night, and accidentally pressed the switch."
"Does that even make sense?!" Ying Tongchen grabbed the pillow and threw it at his head. "This is your fault! Why did you have to go and make this questionable thing!?"
Zhuo Shu's head was repeatedly struck, but instead of getting angry, he felt strangely pleased, his body swaying to the rhythm of the recording.
Ying Tongchen, exhausted from swinging the pillow, tossed it aside and collapsed onto the other side of the sofa. He tugged at his collar, kicking Zhuo Shu's side. "Move. Get out of here and go home."
Zhuo Shu shifted slightly, his ears straining to catch the last of the recording. Only when it finished did he sit up straight, suppressing a satisfied smile—though it was clear he couldn't entirely hide it.
"I swear, I didn't do it on purpose," Zhuo Shu explained, his gaze dropping to Ying Tongchen's feet. Smooth, well-proportioned legs, with veins subtly raised. His gaze slowly traveled upward, taking in the sight of Ying Tongchen half-reclining on the couch, the collar of his shirt undone, revealing a hint of collarbone.
Ying Tongchen's chest rose and fell with each breath, catching his breath from the previous pillow attack. His mouth hung slightly open as he breathed, chin lifted, eyes glaring at Zhuo Shu with irritation.
A moment of silence fell between them. Ying Tongchen seemed to realize something and glanced down at his crotch.
"..."
"..." Zhuo Shu cleared his throat awkwardly.
Ying Tongchen kicked him again. "Why did you come here in the middle of the night?"
Zhuo Shu had originally intended to settle the score with the audacious man who had dared to threaten him with buckets of manure. But the tempting scene before him, coupled with the recording he'd just heard, short-circuited his brain. He could only think with his lower body.
He pulled Ying Tongchen’s pants down slightly and whispered, "Of course, I'm doing something that the jjwxc mods wouldn't allow."
A rustling sound followed, and a few more pieces of clothing fell to the ground.
"Mmm, get los–mmn. Aren't you afraid of the redlock(censorship)?" Ying Tongchen gasped.
"As long as we move fast enough, the redlock won't be able to catch us," Zhuo Shu whispered in his ear, lowering his voice. "This is something we’re both quite experienced at, no?"
Ying Tongchen groaned, "What experience? The experience of getting chapters locked by mods? Mmmahhhahnn I don’t even f*cking dare to use ellipses anymore."
Zhuo Shu chuckled softly, his gaze sweeping the narrow room, lamenting its limited possibilities. Then, his eyes landed on something specific. After a moment's pause, he turned back, picking up the rope that had once bound the chibi version of himself. A glint flashed in his eyes; it was time to settle the score.
"Don’t worry, the readers will understand us. It’s so hard to survive on jjwxc these days," Zhuo Shu said, grabbing his wrist, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Right? Hmm?"
In the end, both emerged equally battered—Ying Tongchen’s wrists bore two red marks, while Zhuo Shu’s neck was adorned with twin bite imprints.
“You really went for it, huh?” Zhuo Shu collapsed bonelessly to the side, finally loosening the rope around Ying Tongchen’s wrists as he rubbed at his own neck. “That freaking hurts.”
Ying Tongchen kicked him weakly, muttering, "F*ck."
“No more fncking, no more fncking. You need rest—we’re in this for the long haul.” Zhuo Shu said, though his lingering gaze suggested otherwise. He then reached under the pillow and picked up the doll, adding in a serious tone, "Oh, the audio has been updated."
“……” Ying Tongchen shot him a glare, though in his current state, it lacked any real intimidation—if anything, it carried an undertone of reluctant indulgence. “Take your shit and get out.”
"I refuse." Zhuo Shu casually threw on a piece of clothing, bent down, and scooped him up, carrying him toward the bathroom. "If I leave, can you even wash on your own?"
"I can."
"Can you scrub your back as well as I can?"
"...No." Ying Tongchen surrendered.
"Tsk, no bathtub?" Zhuo Shu took one look at the cramped bathroom and frowned in dismay. "Small places really are inconvenient." It’s time to upgrade to a bigger villa. If they had a bathtub, certain activities could seamlessly continue…
After their shower, as they lay in bed, just about to drift off, Ying Tongchen suddenly asked, "What were you talking about on WeChat earlier? About an old man? Did you not help him across the street?"
"Nah, he just gave me an earful." Zhuo Shu pulled him into his arms, lazily ruffling his hair before absentmindedly pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I guess it’s been years since anyone scolded me like that. It was both infuriating and kind of funny."
"How did he scold you?" Ying Tongchen didn’t bother to move, letting himself be held in Zhuo Shu’s arms as he silently rolled his eyes.
"He said I don’t value my family. Sigh."
"That’s not true," Ying Tongchen countered without hesitation.
Zhuo Shu glanced down at him, his expression softening slightly. His gaze brimmed with encouragement, wordlessly urging him to continue.
Bolstered by this, Ying Tongchen went on directly, "Not just family—you don’t take anyone seriously, do you?"
Zhuo Shu: "..."
"I'm about to get mad, and the consequences will be severe."
"Mm, go ahead, get mad." Sleepiness washed over Ying Tongchen, and he yawned before groggily closing his eyes. Just as he was about to drift off, he muttered, "You only act tough with people you're close to. How come you don't talk back when others scold you?"
Zhuo Shu’s expression shifted slightly as he softly ruffled Ying Tongchen’s hair.
After a moment, seeing that Ying Tongchen had fallen asleep, he reached for his phone, opening his less important alt-account. He stared at the chat history with [Homeroom Teacher] for a while before carefully typing: {I’ve been very busy with work, which is my oversight. But one thing I must emphasize is that I truly love my family.}
He exhaled a breath once he set the phone down, the weight in his chest lifting. Looking down at the person sleeping soundly beside him, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.
“I warned you the consequences would be severe,” he whispered. Watch out when I eat your tofu.
…
The following morning, the sunlight was a bit too bright. When Zhuo Shu opened his eyes, the unfamiliar room left him momentarily disoriented. It took him a second to remember he was in Ying Tongchen’s home.
He'd been so preoccupied on other matters last night that he hadn’t paid any attention to his surroundings.
Carefully pulling his stiff arm back, he got out of bed, gathered his clothes, and drew the curtains to shield Ying Tongchen’s face from direct sunlight. He paused to survey the room.
The space was small—a large bed and a wardrobe were its only contents. Through the glass doors of the wardrobe, he saw it was filled entirely with dress shirts.
The room next door was a study, with bookshelves stacked high with books. Standing at the doorway, one could take in the entire scene at a glance.
Familiar with the layout from a prior, drunken night, Zhuo Shu went to wash up, knowing exactly where the toiletries were.
Outside, the sound of footsteps stirred Ying Tongchen awake. He flipped over, trying to sleep again, but as soon as he remembered there was someone else in the house, sleep became impossible. Dragging his tired body out of bed, he dressed and glanced at his phone. Several unread messages awaited him.
Just moments ago, Zhuo Zi had sent him a photo from the mall, reporting that she and her classmates were planning to buy some local specialties for their families before catching their flight back home.
[Homeroom Teacher]: Alright, stay safe.
Earlier messages included one from Elder Brother Zhuo, sent in the middle of the night.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he read the message.
[Homeroom Teacher]: You're truly amazing. I believe you're a great parent [thumbs up]
Zhuo Shu, upon reading this, couldn't help but shake his leg, as though he'd just received a monumental acknowledgment. A delighted smile on his face, he set the phone down, whistled, and turned his gaze toward the stack of English periodicals on the shelf.
At that moment, a "click" sounded from the doorway, and Ying Tongchen, squinting, pushed the bathroom door open.
Zhuo Shu: “!”
Still half-asleep, Ying Tongchen shuffled into the bathroom, instinctively reaching for his toothbrush and toothpaste on the counter. He shoved the brush into his mouth, brushed absentmindedly, and slowly opened his eyes. The moment his gaze met the mirror, he froze.
Toothbrush still lodged in his mouth, he slowly turned his head, his eyes darting toward the rear right corner.
Zhuo Shu sat upright on the toilet, a bathroom reading material in hand, his posture graceful yet utterly stunned as he stared at Ying Tongchen.
Ying Tongchen: “...”
Zhuo Shu: “......”
A sudden, venomous glare, Zhuo Shu's eyes flashing like steel, accompanied his hissed, “Get out!!”
“Apologies for the interruption. Please, continue.” Ying Tongchen elegantly retreated.
Once the door closed, Zhuo Shu, still stiff, lowered the periodical, reached for some toilet paper, when the door suddenly swung open again.
“Sorry for the intrusion, I just need to leave this cup here.” Ying Tongchen placed the cup on the counter. “This time, I’m really leaving. Farewell.”
Zhuo Shu: “...”
Is there no law?! Huh?!
This is truly social death! Ahhh!
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Author's Note: Special announcement! Special announcement! Congratulations to Zhuo Shu for breaking the long-standing rule of "Rich CEOs in jjwxc don’t poop"!
Social death for you, for me, for everybody. Fair and equal, now that's true liberty!