Chapter 4
THE THIRD TENANT was a busy-looking guy named Chen Hong, a twenty-nine-year-old fitness trainer who was currently standing at a crossroads in his life. He was practically glued to his phone, sending voice memos on his instant messaging app throughout his entire conversation with Zhang Yuwen about renting a room.
One moment it was, “Okay, okay, I got it. Just go there and look for him…” The next, it was, “I’ve seen your BMI. It’s a little high, but I can come up with a detailed plan for you…” Then it was, “Okay, okay, sure. I got you. It’s fine, no worries. Let’s take it slow…” The frequency at which Zhang Yuwen’s speech was interrupted by the notification alerts from Chen Hong’s two cell phones turned their conversation into a sampling of Chen Hong’s busy and exciting work life.
“Sorry,” Chen Hong said again. “¥4,000, right?”
“Yeah,” Zhang Yuwen said earnestly. “There are three rooms left.
The one downstairs costs ¥4,000, while the ones upstairs are ¥3,300 and ¥3,600. The ¥4,000 room also comes with a bathroom.”
“I run a fitness studio,” said Chen Hong, “and there’s a promotion right now, so there’s a lot going on—” Then both of Chen Hong’s phones chimed at once, and he hurriedly responded to the messages.
Zhang Yuwen nodded in understanding. Chen Hong looked up, still distracted, and asked, “Do you usually work out? It’s important to keep yourself in shape.”
“I occasionally do some cardio,” Zhang Yuwen replied. “Would you like to see the house?”
“Oh! The house! Right, right! I was just thinking about that.
Riverbay Road is a great location!”
Chen Hong had very short hair, strong facial features, and a well-built physique. He wasn’t shy about showing off his muscles—a common trait among fitness trainers. Even in autumn, he still wore gym tank tops.
He picked up his gym bag and followed Zhang Yuwen out of Sunny Days Cat Café to the villa next door. Along the way, he introduced Zhang Yuwen to his business: He had started a fitness studio in the Jiangbei area and employed several people, and business was booming. Many high-profile clients went to the trouble of traveling long distances to his studio every day to get in shape, and his clientele included multi-million-dollar businessmen, influential political figures, and movie superstars.
Zhang Yuwen nodded with sincerity, having gathered a lot of interesting gossip. He also spotted at least fifty plot holes in these stories.
“You can’t bring clients here to work out,” Zhang Yuwen reminded him.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Chen Hong said. “I want to keep work and personal life separate too. Eh… This is your house? W-T-F?! It’s so big?!”
“Of course not.” Following his prepared script, Zhang Yuwen stressed to Chen Hong that he was only a sub-landlord, and a broke one at that—a hint that he wouldn’t be buying a gym membership.
Chen Hong was shocked. Such a wonderful place for only ¥4,000 in rent? He only took one glance at the room before deciding: “I’m renting it.”
“Okay.” Zhang Yuwen was already used to these kinds of astonished expressions and decisive attitudes from prospective tenants. He was a little concerned about renting to this fitness trainer, but he still had basic trust in the promises made between people. He added, “There’s a simple fitness room here. You can watch TV while you work out or play games in the entertainment room.”
“I’ll give you lessons, free of charge,” Chen Hong offered.
Zhang Yuwen laughed. “Let’s talk about it again after you move in.”
Chen Hong’s phone chimed again. “I have to go,” he said quickly.
“There’s a members’ salon this afternoon. Wanna come along?”
“No thanks.”
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to some friends.”
Zhang Yuwen did his best to fend Chen Hong off from grabbing his wrist, tactfully refusing this overzealous fitness trainer. “I’ll send you the contract now,” he said as he saw him out the door.
“It’s fine!” Chen Hong called for a ride at the entrance. “I’ll move in as soon as I can. Let’s work out together tomorrow?”
Zhang Yuwen didn’t dare answer. Four minutes later, the car arrived, and Chen Hong waved at him and got in, on the phone all the while. Zhang Yuwen decided to go back and highlight the breach-of-contract terms for emphasis. Any ideas Chen Hong might have about entertaining members at No. 7 Riverbay Road needed to be nipped in the bud.
While Zhang Yuwen revised the contract at the café, the fourth tenant arrived as scheduled. He felt like an HR rep, interviewing two tenants on the same day.
The fourth tenant carried a camera bag. About six foot one, he was stylishly dressed and had meticulously coiffed hair. Of the four tenants, he was the most handsome, with a high nose bridge, fair skin, thick brows, and large eyes.
“Hi, my name is Chang Jinxing,” the young man said.
Zhang Yuwen shook his hand. Despite Chang Jinxing’s outstanding looks, he seemed weary, and his lips were so dry they were peeling. He also kept yawning, as if he’d just woken up. He sat down across from Zhang Yuwen, snapped his fingers for the waiter, ordered himself a sandwich, and dug in.
“Where’s the house you’re renting out?” Chang Jinxing asked. “Can I go for a viewing later?”
“It’s right next door,” Zhang Yuwen replied. “Are you a photographer?”
“Yeah, I graduated from Jiangliu University’s Department of Photography and I have my own photography studio. Sometimes I help film crews with promotional stills.”
“Oh—?” Zhang Yuwen was surprised. “How old are you again?”
“Twenty-seven,” Chang Jinxing replied. “You?”
Zhang Yuwen gave him a puzzled look. Realizing that Chang Jinxing was looking at him, he quickly explained, “I’m the same age as you.”
The Department of Photography had been right next to Zhang Yuwen’s department, the Department of Drama Studies. In his second year of university, students in his program had to take several classes with the Department of Photography for courses like storyboarding and set design, so he knew a lot of students from the Department of Photography. He was sure he’d never seen this guy before.
“What did you study?” Chang Jinxing asked.
“I went to school in the countryside,” Zhang Yuwen said, “and now I’m working as a proofreader for a publisher.”
Chang Jinxing nodded, cracked his knuckles, yawned, and stood up, having already finished his sandwich. Zhang Yuwen went to foot the bill, but Chang Jinxing stopped him. “Let me. It’s our first meeting. I can’t let you pay for me. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to rent the place.”
“It’s fine,” Zhang Yuwen said breezily. “Consider us friends.”
Chang Jinxing hesitated, but the words “consider us friends” won him over in no time. He smiled, dispelling the hint of gloom lingering around him from all those late nights.
This photographer had such great looks that Zhang Yuwen was sure he would have been the department hottie even at the film academy. There was no way he could have been a senior—Zhang Yuwen would have at least heard of him.
“Wow!” Entering No. 7 Riverbay Road, Chang Jinxing couldn’t resist taking out his camera, placing his fair, slender finger on the shutter.
“Can I take a couple shots?”
“For the common areas, yes.”
“Such a great house going for such low rent?” Everyone had the same question. Zhang Yuwen explained it again, and Chang Jinxing grinned. “I see. So does that mean you won’t bring anyone home either?”
“Of course.”
“Wouldn’t your partner want to come over?”
“I’m single,” said Zhang Yuwen. “I don’t have a boyfriend. And even if I did, I wouldn’t bring him back to stay for the night.”
“You? Single? How’s that possible for someone of your caliber?
You a top?”
Zhang Yuwen didn’t know which question to answer first, so he simply said, “Yeah.”
“Oh.” Chang Jinxing smiled and took a photo of the garden, then turned back. With a serious air, he looked Zhang Yuwen in the eye.
“Actually, I’m bisexual. That bother you?”
Zhang Yuwen felt a rare twinge of nervousness at his gaze. It’s not like I’m dating you, he thought, I’m just renting you a room. “Of course not.”
But now Zhang Yuwen had new material.
With another smile, Chang Jinxing sat on the bed in the empty room upstairs and basked in the autumn sunlight. After a while, he lay down.
“Is it liberating, being bisexual?” Zhang Yuwen asked out of curiosity. “After all, you have a lot of options.”
“Yeah.” Still smiling, Chang Jinxing closed his eyes. “But I prefer dating guys.”
This guy was most likely a player, a thought that excited Zhang Yuwen. Photographer, handsome, and bisexual—Chang Jinxing hit all three fuckboy checkboxes.
“Let me show you.” Chang Jinxing turned on his camera and motioned for Zhang Yuwen to sit on the bed too. “This is someone I dated, but we’ve already split up.”
The photo was of a pretty girl. Zhang Yuwen hummed in appreciation, and Chang Jinxing continued, “She dated another guy after we broke up, but her boyfriend liked me. I didn’t reciprocate, though.”
What kind of plot twist…? Zhang Yuwen thought. Truly an eye-opener.
Chang Jinxing then showed Zhang Yuwen his male lover. There were only two photos of him, a vibrant guy standing with Chang Jinxing. It was hard to tell who topped and who bottomed.
“Handsome guys always date handsome guys,” Zhang Yuwen remarked, tossing Chang Jinxing a compliment.
Chang Jinxing looked at Zhang Yuwen and laughed. “You’re handsome yourself.”
“So have you decided if you want to rent the room?” Zhang Yuwen asked.
“Sure. I can stay here for a while.”
He said it as if Zhang Yuwen was the one who invited him to move in. Zhang Yuwen didn’t mind, though; this would make for excellent material. As a reminder, he added, “You can’t take private photos here.”
“What kind of person do you think I am? Why would I take private photos?” Chang Jinxing laughed and reached out to pinch Zhang Yuwen’s ear, but Zhang Yuwen had seen plenty of players in the film industry; he was already on guard against this kind of casual touch. Thus, the player’s first move against the director missed its mark.
Zhang Yuwen raised a finger at him in a gesture that said, Behave yourself.
“I can cook. How about I make dinner for you tonight?” said Chang Jinxing. “Where’s the nearest supermarket? I’ll go grocery shopping later.”
Zhang Yuwen smiled. “Let’s talk about it again after you’ve moved in. Need any help?” Chang Jinxing waved his hand, declining the offer, and Zhang Yuwen got up to leave the room. “I’ll send you the lease contract,” he said on his way out.
“Sure thing.”
Zhang Yuwen went downstairs, revised the contract, and sent it to Chang Jinxing.
It was dangerous for a guy to be single for too long, especially when he encountered this sort of flirt who swung both ways. While Zhang Yuwen liked his men handsome, he had no intention of dating his tenant.
Besides, Chang Jinxing was obviously a top, and Zhang Yuwen wasn’t quite prepared to bottom.
But unbeknownst to Zhang Yuwen, all was not as he thought.
Chang Jinxing lay on his side on the bed, facing the sunlight as he took photos of the view beyond the balcony. What he hadn’t told Zhang Yuwen was that, while he was bisexual, he wasn’t like most bisexuals.
The majority of bisexuals were like those dual plugs that fit both European and American sockets and could be switched freely between the different types of outlets. But Chang Jinxing was both a plug and a socket:
He was equally compatible with other sockets and other plugs.
The cultivation of this talent could be traced back to his short-lived first love at university. A fujoshi poisoned by BL novels, she tirelessly experimented with her boyfriend’s body and mind with electric and battery-powered toys. Chang Jinxing, unable to turn her down and fueled by his curiosity for new, thrilling experiences, found it both shameful and pleasurable—so much so that he sometimes even looked forward to it.
Eventually, he reached the point of no return, and a whole new world opened up to him.
A pity Chang Jinxing’s first love broke up with him after “training” him for less than a month. Those thirty days and nights left Chang Jinxing with many short but mind-boggling What My First Love Taught Me stories with which to regale others. Years later, he became accustomed to switching between roles, whether as a top or bottom, or even with women. But when he slept with men, he could last twice as long and get double the pleasure from the relationship.
Chang Jinxing had been single for a while now, but he suddenly felt something indescribable toward Zhang Yuwen, his sub-landlord. Perhaps it was because Zhang Yuwen treated him to lunch at their first meeting;
although it was only a thirty-five-yuan sandwich, Chang Jinxing felt a little touched by the gesture.
He had lied to Zhang Yuwen about his education and work. He wasn’t a Jiangliu University graduate or the owner of a photography studio. His father was a chef in a small city, an alcoholic who had, in Chang Jinxing’s childhood, abused him and his mother. Unable to put up with it, his mother left home. Chang Jinxing’s grades were far from stellar, and after he graduated from high school, he took his camera with him to the big city to make a living.
His father had been a womanizer, so Chang Jinxing followed in his father’s footsteps and became one too.
The culinary skills that he picked up from home won him the hearts and affection of gentle girls. Even as Chang Jinxing relied on his handsome looks to live off these women, he did his best to maintain his persona as a talented photographer. His ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends occasionally gave him pocket money to try to preserve whatever bit of self-esteem he had. Chang Jinxing knew very well what they wanted: They were infatuated with his looks and body, and in return, he asked them to cover his living expenses.
Fair enough. Everyone had their own needs.
After a breakup this year, Chang Jinxing decided to live on his own for a spell instead of depending on other people. He tried taking on some photography jobs. Although he struggled to make ends meet, he no longer needed to provide emotional value to others or subject himself to their whims and fancies. He was poor, but a lot freer. He still had something to look forward to in life.
Now that he’d found this new place to live, he could start fresh. He wanted to find a partner, someone he was in genuine, mutual love with, who he could fuck and get fucked by. They would depend on one another and earn money to support the household together. This was almost his entire life goal.
It was hard for a leopard to change its spots, though, and he couldn’t resist flirting a little with the sub-landlord. Fortunately, Zhang Yuwen was experienced enough to nip it in the bud.
So it was that Zhang Yuwen gathered four observational subjects, each with their own stories, from whom he could gather material.
Just the thought of it was fascinating.