Mistaken Canary Chapter 29
Chapter 29
After returning to the city center, Zhuo Shu got out of the car at K.W., planning to work for a while before his mom treated him to dinner later.
"Drive home safely, don’t speed, be careful—" The words were barely out of his mouth when a powerful gust of exhaust fumes enveloped him. Ying Tongchen's car was already tearing down the road.
Zhuo Shu: "..."
Ying Tongchen didn’t return to his own place but parked the car near Meng Gong’s residence. It seemed like a while since they had eaten together.
He called Meng Gong’s name, but there was no answer. He rang the doorbell, but no one opened the door.
Spotting the potted plant by the door, Ying Tongchen pried the key out from underneath and let himself in. Seeing the messy living room, he sighed and grabbed the broom, intending to clean up.
Just then, a voice drifted from a room. "Mmm, that hurts, be gentler!"
Ying Tongchen startled, turned around twice, and carefully placed the broom back. As he turned again, he stepped on an empty chip bag on the floor, the crunch echoing in the silence.
"Who’s that?" someone inside gasped.
"Must be Tongchen," Meng Gong replied.
"Then call him in too," the other voice said.
Ying Tongchen: "!"
Who said I want to join?
Ying Tongchen immediately turned to leave, but Meng Gong opened the bedroom door. "It really is you! Since you’re here, you should give it a try too."
"Huh?" Ying Tongchen turned back in disbelief. "Do you even know what you’re saying?"
Footsteps approached from the bedroom, and a moment later, Zhen Mingxin appeared next to Meng Gong, wearing a tank top and sporting several red marks on his body. He rubbed his waist and greeted Ying Tongchen with a smile, "Hey, Ying ge, long time no see. You should try Meng Meng’s skills too. He really worked me over, got my back aching, but he really knows what he's doing."
Ying Tongchen’s expression cracked as he looked at Meng Gong in surprise. "You—You’re not a bottom?"
"I am a bottom," Meng Gong scratched the back of his head. "But what does that have to do with giving a massage?"
Ying Tongchen stood frozen, "A ma—massage?"
Meng Gong nodded. "Yeah, I went and learned some massage techniques. I was just practicing on Mingxin here."
Ying Tongchen glanced at Zhen Mingxin, then at Meng Gong, a dazed look on his face. Realizing it was just a misunderstanding, he feigned nonchalance as he remarked, "I see. Have you guys eaten yet?"
"Not yet. In a few days, I’m going to shoot an outdoor variety show. To thank Meng Meng for taking care of me lately, I wanted to cook him a meal. But I ended up becoming his little guinea pig," Zhen Mingxin said, walking over to the kitchen and opening the fridge, which was packed with fruits and vegetables. "Since you’re here, Ying ge, why don’t you stay and try my cooking?"
"You can cook?" Ying Tongchen asked in surprise.
"Not much, just some home-cooked dishes," Zhen Mingxin replied, pulling out the ingredients and setting them aside. "You guys can rest for a bit. I’ll call you when the food’s ready."
"Alright, thanks for the trouble," Meng Gong responded, tugging at Ying Tongchen’s sleeve. "Come on, xiōngdì, let me give you a massage."
"Are you sure you know how to do it properly?" Ying Tongchen asked skeptically. "How long have you been learning?"
"There’s nothing a man can’t do," Meng Gong shot him a fierce, domineering look and reassured him, "Don’t worry, I’ve already finished my apprenticeship. Since you work an office job, let me loosen up your back and neck."
"Alright then." Ying Tongchen was pulled into the room and saw that a massage table had been specially placed beside the bed. He laid down on it. "You’d better really know what you’re doing, or I swear I’ll punch you to death."
"Trust me." Meng Gong spat on his hand and began working on his back.
Ying Tongchen: "You son of a... Ah! Lighten up, lighten up... Did you learn martial massage pummelling?”
Ying Tongchen couldn't see how Meng Gong was doing the massage, but it felt like his bones were being reshaped, and he was enduring the pain when his phone rang.
He didn’t even have time to see who was calling before he slid the answer button and put it to his ear. "Hello... Mmm! Who is this?"
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. "What are you doing?"
"I’m... Mmm ah!" Ying Tongchen turned his head and growled at Meng Gong, "I told you to go easy! I’m answering a call."
"Oh, sorry about that. Should I pause for a bit?" Meng Gong asked.
"Hmm." Ying Tongchen sat up, put on his clothes, and picked up his phone again, only to find that the call had already ended.
The caller—Zhuo Shu.
"Nevermind, continue," Ying Tongchen muttered, lying back down. But as Meng Gong started to remove his own clothes, a sudden realization struck him, making him sit up abruptly. The ambiguity of the situation dawned on him.
Did Zhuo Shu assume the same thing as he had assumed about Meng Gong and Zhen Mingxin?
But is what he thought in his thoughts really what he thought had happened?
He quickly called Zhuo Shu back. After three rings, the call was finally answered, a cold voice came through: "Finished?"
"Uh..." So it was a misunderstanding. He glanced at Meng Gong, then covered the phone and whispered, "It’s not what you think."
Zhuo Shu snorted coldly. "So now you’re trying to argue with me?"
"Hmm, it’s an explanation. Are you willing to listen?" Ying Tongchen countered.
A pause stretched on the other end for about half a minute before Zhuo Shu spoke again, "One minute, no, three minutes. If you don’t explain things clearly in three minutes, you’ll understand how serious the consequences are. This isn’t a joke, and I’m not playing around."
Hearing this, a slight smile touched Ying Tongchen’s lips, unknowingly adding a touch of amusement to his voice, "I’m just getting a massage, nothing more."
The following silence stretched for exactly ten seconds.
Zhuo Shu asked, "Do you have any proof?"
"Hold on." Ying Tongchen minimized the call screen and asked Meng Gong to take a photo of the massage marks on his back.
"Are you sure?" Meng Gong looked uncertain, pointing to his back. "I don't think you want anyone to see this."
Ying Tongchen: "What did you do to my back?"
Meng Gong: "It wasn't me..."
"Take the photo!" Zhuo Shu’s voice suddenly sharpened. "What secrets are you hiding on your back? Show me the proof, hurry up!"
"Alright then." Meng Gong snapped the picture.
Ying Tongchen took the phone and glanced at it, frowning slightly, lost in thought.
"Why hasn't it been sent yet?" Zhuo Shu urged, "Don’t even think about editing the photo. Hurry up, immediately, right now, or I’ll just assume you’re feeling guilty."
Ying Tongchen closed his eyes and pressed send, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.
Zhuo Shu opened the picture. The redness on Ying Tongchen's back was undeniable evidence of a thorough massage, the skin clearly kneaded. But then, something else in the image snagged his attention. Zooming in, he noticed several distinct 'marks' scattered across parts of the back. Just as his temper began to flare, he realized—
Clearly, these ‘marks’ were old and faded, not freshly imprinted.
There is always only one culprit—himself!
Zhuo Shu: o(////▽////)o
He cleared his throat, trying to sound serious. "I forgive you."
"Bye." Ying Tongchen quickly retracted the picture, his face blank as he ended the call and retreated from reality. He threw himself back onto the massage table. "Do it again, but this time, harder!"
Zhuo Shu, seeing the picture disappear, couldn’t help but smirk.
No big deal.
He opened his photo album, satisfied that he had saved the image just in time.
"Chairman Zhuo, this—" Mi Shu pushed open the door to Zhuo Shu's office, documents in hand. But before she could finish speaking, she saw Zhuo Shu grinning ear to ear, his legs practically bouncing with barely contained excitement.
Mi Shu: "Uh... If there's nothing else, I suggest a trip to the hospital, and... I’ll be leaving now."
"Go ahead." Zhuo Shu threw her a glance, still beaming. "You’ve been doing great lately, so I’ll reward you with a raise."
"Thank you, Chairman Zhuo!" Mi Shu’s eyes widened with delight, a new life goal solidifying in her mind: as long as she took good care of little lover Ying, the bonuses would be endless!
…
Ying Tongchen finished his massage, put on his clothes, glanced at Meng Gong who seemed perfectly normal, then listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen. He quietly asked, "Why didn’t you ask me about the marks on my back earlier? Aren’t you even a little curious?"
"I’m not curious," Meng Gong smiled, "I was just a bit jealous, so I applied extra pressure during the massage. Didn’t you notice?"
Ying Tongchen: "......"
Meng Gong winked at him and, with a touch of gossip, asked, "Are you still in contact with him?"
Ying Tongchen didn’t deny it.
"Strange. You two have kept this relationship going for so long. So either he's really good at it—"
Ying Tongchen: "He’s not that good."
Meng Gong continued, "Or maybe you two are going steady."
Ying Tongchen hesitated for a few seconds, then continued, "...But his skills have definitely improved, he’s pretty good, mhm."
Seeing Ying Tongchen was about to flee, Meng Gong grabbed him and asked, "Xiōngdì, be honest with me, are you two really going steady?"
"Of course not, it's just a mutually beneficial arrangement," Ying Tongchen stated firmly.
"Tell me, with your cold personality, what will you do if you actually meet someone you like in the future?" Meng Gong scolded him, worried and disappointed.
"Don't worry," Ying Tongchen smiled faintly, "Being single isn’t that bad. As long as I can take care of my physical needs, being single is the best."
"Tsk, such a waste of a good face. But I don’t want to stay single, I want to get into a relationship. Why is it so hard!"
"Lunch is ready!" Zhen Mingxin called out, clanging a metal bowl. "Everyone, take your seats!"
As Ying Tongchen walked to the door, he suddenly turned back. "What do you mean it’s hard to get into a relationship? I think Xiao Zhen would be a pretty good match for you."
Meng Gong’s eyes slowly widened, his face flushing red. "Him? He’s just our good xiōngdì."
Ying Tongchen shrugged. "Alright."
"What are you two talking about?" Zhen Mingxin asked, walking over.
Ying Tongchen replied, "Nothing, just saying you two would make a good match."
"Huh? Us?" Zhen Mingxin blushed, saying shyly, "Meng Meng and I are just good xiōngdì."
Ying Tongchen’s gaze flicked between them, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You two didn’t happen to... already share something, did you?"
They both waved their hands rapidly, shaking their heads like a rattle-drum.
"Alright, enough chit chat. Let’s eat before it gets cold." Zhen Mingxin urged, beginning to serve the food. "It’s just some home-cooked dishes, don’t complain."
"No problem," Ying Tongchen and Meng Gong said together, then walked to the dining table, falling silent as they sat down.
The meal was indeed simple home cooking—tomatoes scrambled with eggs, tomato egg soup, and a tomato salad.
"Mingxin, I remember we bought quite a bit more food," Meng Gong said, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"Aiya..." Zhen Mingxin nudged him with his elbow, "We’re good xiōngdìs, no? Don’t call me Mingxin anymore, just call me Xin Xin."
Meng Gong: "Hmm, Xiao Xin Xin, what happened to the rest of the groceries we bought?"
Zhen Mingxin: "They're all in the trash now, Meng Meng."
Ying Tongchen: "......"
Ying Tongchen: "Looks like I'm interrupting you two. Maybe I should just head home for dinner."
"That works. The dishes here are rather thoughtless for a guest, so I won’t see you off." Meng Gong said, opening the door and gesturing for him to leave. "It’s getting late, so I won’t see you out."
Ying Tongchen: "............"
Ying Tongchen walked downstairs, looked up at the city lights, and sighed to himself—as kids grow, they break free from the leash.
Reaching his car, he suddenly remembered something. He quickly turned around and hurried back to Meng Gong’s place. He knocked on the door, but no one answered. He retrieved the key from under the plant pot, unlocked the door, and went inside.
"Zhen Mingxin."
The two figures locked in a kiss at the dining table were abruptly interrupted. They scrambled apart, coughing dramatically—one gazing intently at the ceiling, the other fixedly staring at the floor.
Meng Gong stammered out an explanation, "Something got stuck in his mouth, I was just helping him check."
Zhen Mingxin, his face as red as a tomato, nodded vigorously in agreement. After a long, awkward pause, he turned to Ying Tongchen, words tumbling out, "W—What's the matter?"
"Do you know a celebrity named Liu Li'ang? Does he like men? Does he have a boyfriend?" Ying Tongchen asked, completely unfazed by the scene.
Zhen Mingxin: "???"
.
.
.
Author's note: Arrested right on the spot.