Butterfly Catcher Gets Caught

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/49017850.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive
Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: 二哈和他的白猫师尊 - 肉包不吃肉 | The Husky and His White Cat
Shizun - Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat
Relationship: Chu Wanning/Mo Ran | Mo Weiyu
Characters: Mo Ran | Mo Weiyu, Chu Wanning, Shi Mei | Shi Mingjing
Additional Tags: Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Romantic Comedy, Falling In Love,
Love Confessions, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Strippers & Strip Clubs,
Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Stripping, Fluff and Smut,
Eventual Fluff, Rating: NC17, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-08-01 Completed: 2023-08-13 Words: 15,247 Chapters:
5/5
 Butterfly Catcher Gets Caught
by YeliangHua

Summary

Mo Ran had no intentions of becoming a stripper; after all, his dancing experience was
limited to performing as a clown in elementary school. However, that didn't deter him from
getting a job at the club just to be closer to the elusive dancer who had captured his heart.
Now, all he needed to do was find out who this dancer was and come up with a plan to get his
attention.
 The touch of his wings

Finding oneself in a strip club dressing room is a dream of many men… unless, of course,
you are the one dancing there. Mo Ran wasn't entirely sure how he ended up in such a place.
Taking that murky business card was probably not a well-thought-out decision, and he
regretted it almost at once.

However, the next day, he still called and inquired about any openings for waiters. No, he had
no plans to become a stripper – apart from performing as a clown in elementary school, he
had never really danced before.

As he stood by the wardrobe, filled with neatly hung outfits, he couldn't quite comprehend
why he hadn't left yet. It seemed that his quest for the veiled-face dancer he had seen last
Friday night had gone too far. However, he had to admit that this was the very reason he was
there tonight, surrounded by extravagant attire and totally confused.

He tried to brace himself for trying on at least one of the outfits, but as he looked at himself
in the mirror, he couldn't help but feel that it wasn't even worth considering going on stage
dressed like that. The rhinestones and the flashy design felt completely out of place for him.

He quickly took off the suit, returning it to the wardrobe. Perhaps this was a sign that he
should just forget about this idea and leave the strip club behind.

"First time here?"

Mo Ran flinched. Well, of course, it was a shared dressing room, so anyone could come in
here. Probably, involuntary witnesses of his torment wondered why he hesitated to put
something on. It wasn’t like there was a limited choice of skims.

"Do not choose overly revealing clothes if it's your first time dancing. Even experienced
performers feel unsure in such outfits," the stranger persisted with advice. "The second
costume from the right doesn't look as flashy."

Mo Ran could feel, rather than hear, lightweight footsteps behind him. The uninvited guest
came too close, enveloping him in a cloud of apple-floral perfume. Then the rustling of fabric
followed, and within his field of vision appeared an elegant palm. Delicate fingers lightly
traced along the sleeves of the outfits, as if doing it for the millionth time. A dainty gold
bracelet tinkled on the stranger's wrist.

Mo Ran's heart pounded with an unusual intensity. Normally, he didn't mind how close
someone stood to him, but this time, it was different. At the instinctual level, the stranger
stirred up a storm of emotions in him.

Mo Ran had to repeatedly remind himself that he wasn't here to drool over all the dancers in
the troupe, no matter how alluring they smelled, or how beautiful their hands were – he was
only interested in one man he came here looking for. There was no point in getting distracted.
"Let’s t this outfit," the stranger finally pulled out the right ensemble.

"I can handle it myself," Mo Ran intercepted the hanger from the man's hand, feeling
awkward at the thought that the owner of such elegant fingers didn't seem to hurry to step
back.

"Alright. I won't bother you anymore," the uninvited guest stepped aside, and Mo Ran had to
stand with his back to him a little longer to calm down. Ridiculously, he hesitated to change
clothes in the presence of another man.

When he finally turned around, the dressing room was empty, and the only thing left from his
accidental visitor was the gradually dissipating scent of haitang blossoms.

Mo Ran felt like an idiot.

He looked again at the outfit the stranger had suggested him to wear.

Actually, it wasn’t bad.

He could indeed envision himself dancing in a plain black silk shirt and trousers. The only
unusual detail of this attire was the leather harness that had to go around one’s waist and
thighs — apparently, it was meant to be worn over the pants. It all looked absurd, but no
more ridiculous than the other outfit options.

The size suited Mo Ran, so he didn't hesitate. It was unlikely that he would run into anyone
he knew tonight. Moreover, this way, he could finally enter the backstage zone and look for
the mysterious dancer there — after all, that was the only reason why he agreed to dance
tonight.

After changing into the chosen attire, Mo Ran gave himself one last critical look in the
mirror. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all — at least, he wouldn't have to dance in
raspberry feathers, exposing his rear through tulle strings.

He headed backstage to await his turn.

The first performance was a duet featuring two fair-haired young men in intricately
embroidered Arabian-style costumes. The coins on their hip scarves jingled loudly,
straightforwardly suggesting that the audience should pay generously for their dance.

"These two are Mei Hanxue twins," the club's administrator commented, although Mo Ran
hadn't asked him their names. "You'll probably like them."

Mo Ran decided not to clarify that this would likely be his first and last time dancing in this
club. Instead, he asked, "When will the guy with the veiled face perform?"

But his question was either drowned out by applause and music, or the administrator simply
didn't give a damn.

"You only need to stay on stage for four minutes, three and a half of which you'll be dancing.
Essentially, it's not difficult... just try to make the most of it and use some requisite. There's a
chair behind the curtain that you can use for tricks. Also, there is..."

"Do you perform too?" Mo Ran couldn't help but ask. The longer he talked to the
administrator, the more he felt he wasn’t ready to dance in front of the crowd.

"No, I don't dance," the young man smiled mildly, his eye corners lifting a bit. "But I've been
working here for quite a while. My name is Shi Mingjing, you spoke to me on the phone this
morning."

"Got it," Mo Ran fell silent, realizing he had nothing more to say. He had no intention of
staying here any longer than it was necessary.

"Your turn, get ready," warned the administrator Shi. The familiar melody of the Love Game
track played in a slow reverbed version, sounding eerily unfamiliar, and Mo Ran had to
muster all his mental strength to take a step forward.

On the small, brightly lit stage, the floor was as smooth as a mirror, raising concerns of
potential accidents and fractures. As Mo Ran reached its center, his eyes went watery from
the bright light, and his mind felt hazy. It was a miracle he could recall some movements
from a popular TikTok dance. Swaying his hips to the beat of the bass, he unbuttoned the
shirt collar, as if feeling hot, although in reality, he was on the verge of turning into an icicle.

His body felt wooden with tension.

On almost unyielding knees, he approached the center of the stage, simultaneously assessing
how sturdy the pole was and whether it could bear his weight — it didn't seem entirely
reliable, but there was no other option than to use it. The song was gradually approaching its
chorus, so Mo Ran decided to trust his instincts inherited from his primate ancestors and
grabbed onto the sparkling chrome pole, attempting a "flyover." To his surprise, the pole spun
along with him! It all turned out to be somewhat easier than he had anticipated, and from the
audience, some applause finally broke through.

Encouraged by the audience's reaction, Mo Ran spun a little more, sliding down daringly,
unbuttoning his shirt to the waist. He even risked riding across the stage on his knees towards
the end, ignoring the painful burning sensation.

The audience applauded a little more, and a few large bills flew onto the stage.

When the song finally ended, Mo Ran was already caught up in the excitement of what he
had managed to do. Already backstage, wiping his sweaty face with a fresh towel and sipping
water, he thought that perhaps he was wrong, and working at the club was quite tolerable.
However, as soon as such a thought crossed his mind, he overheard a muffled conversation
from behind:
"Do you understand that people like him don't belong on stage?" The voice sounded
suspiciously similar to the stranger who helped Mo Ran choose his outfit before the
performance. "We shouldn't turn our club into an easy money-making place for talentless
people. We don't need an audience coming to watch a dancer like he's a piece of fresh meat.
Explain to me why we should keep an employee who can't even keep up with the music?"

"But he's in great shape! Surely, with time, he'll learn everything..." Shi Mingjing objected.

"And what do you suggest I do until then? Gouge my eyes out so I don't have to watch this
vulgarity?..." the voice retorted.

Mo Ran frowned. His ears were still buzzing, and his heart was still pumping adrenaline.

Could they be talking about him?

Having long forgotten his intention to hide behind the curtains and wait for the elusive
performer, Mo Ran walked further down the corridor and soon spotted the other person
speaking. Standing in front of Shi Mingjing was a tall, slender man wearing a simple light
turtleneck and trousers. Dark, curly hair fell on his forehead in several messy strands. In the
dim light of the corridor, his face appeared pale, as if he had overdone it with foundation and
powder. Mo Ran unmistakably recognized him by the scent of his perfume, even though he
had only seen him once — without a doubt, this was the same stranger he had met while
dressing for his performance.

As if at the snap of fingers, both the stranger and the club's administrator fell silent as soon as
Mo Ran came into their view. An awkward pause hung for a few seconds.

"You’ll have to wait till the show ends. I’ll bring your payment after we lock the register,"
Shi Mei was the first to regain composure. "You'll have to wait for another two hours - either
in the room for staff or in the main hall with the guests."

"But I will get paid, right?" Mo Ran decided to double-check, feeling annoyed at the
disdainful look the stranger shot him. He looked irritated for no reason.

"Of course. You’re going to receive the agreed-upon amount for the performance, plus tips,"
Shi Mingjing nodded.

"Glad to hear," Mo Ran flashed him a smile, well aware that it would get under the stranger's
skin. "I never thought you could earn so much in just one evening! I think I'll come back here
next week..."

Ignoring the stunned silence, he headed toward the dressing room. He knew perfectly well
that two pairs of eyes were piercing the back of his head, but he had no intention of doing
anything about it.

"He brought in quite a good amount of tips," Shi Mei muttered under his breath, not
addressing anyone in particular.
Mo Ran grinned to himself upon hearing that remark. He barely managed to refrain from
turning around.

When the door closed behind him, he finally allowed himself to relax.

Again, who did that guy think he was, to decide who belonged on the stage and who didn't?
And what business did he have interfering with his performance?

Mo Ran wasn't particularly eager to become one of the performers, but now, showing what he
was capable of became a matter of principle for him.

After freshening up and changing into his regular black jeans and shirt, he headed to the bar
counter. He didn't want to sit and wait somewhere alone — besides, after the stress he had
just experienced, he needed a drink.

A glass of icy cocktail managed to quench his thirst somewhat and helped pass the time, as
he remembered that the mysterious dancer's performance was still ahead. Lazily observing
the stage, Mo Ran calmed down. It seemed that the knot of anger that had been in his throat
all this time finally loosened.

After all, he didn't come to the club seeking anyone's approval — he was interested in
something entirely different.

Or rather — someone .

On his watch, it was already past midnight when the upbeat trendy tunes finally gave way to
more lingering and profound rhythms. He lifted his head, instinctively identifying the dancer
on stage who was performing unimaginable tricks as if in slow motion.

It seemed as if his body was a living tale — the kind that mesmerizes in dreams but becomes
impossible to recall in the morning after you wake up.

The dancer’s hands glided through the air as if caressing the invisible velvet of the night.

The long sleeves of his light-colored shirt fluttered in the silvery stage light, resembling the
extravagant tail of a moon moth.

He continued to glide above the stage as if the dance was his sole way of existence, his
karma. As if he was born to become a trembling glimmer of light, and disappear with the
final chord, dissipating as the world finally faded away.

Mo Ran forgot how to breathe, only coming to his senses when his lungs began to burn from
lack of oxygen.

But when the music flowed again over the stunned spectators, he was momentarily deafened
by the applause and whistles.

For the first time in all evening, he saw the crowd so agitated. Perhaps the performer avoided
provocative moves, not revealing a single millimeter of bare skin throughout the entire
performance, but he was still extremely alluring. Moreover, only now did Mo Ran realize
why the dancer concealed his face — he probably had too many admirers. Sitting at the bar,
he observed several people heading toward the doors leading backstage, only to be deterred
by the security guards.

What did this dancer really look like? Was he handsome, or just plain? What lay beneath the
layers of the pristine veil concealing his face?

His appearance remained elusive — recalling him or his dance was like trying to catch a
moth at night, as it teasingly fluttered its wings against your fingertips, slipping away,
blending into the shadows.

Mo Ran looked gloomily at the empty cocktail glasses, realizing that he should have stopped
drinking alcohol tonight. His head was spinning from strange emotions that had
overwhelmed him once again. It was as if he had temporarily lost his sense of location, so
deeply absorbed he was in the performance.

“Ah, there you are,” Shi Mingjing placed his hand on Mo Ran's shoulder, causing him to
flinch involuntarily at the touch.

“Hey, do you know that guy who was dancing just now?” Mo Ran swallowed, inexplicably
stumbling over his words. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to ask. Was he going at
least to find out who that dancer was? After all, Shi Mei had already ignored his question
twice – he probably had no intention of answering Mo Ran at all.

“His performance often ends the evening.” Administrator Shi handed Mo Ran the money.
“And here's your first salary. Call me if you want to perform again.”

“That man you were talking to in the corridor seemed not happy about my performing skills,”
Mo Ran decided to clarify just in case. “Won’t he object if I come here once again?”

"Uh-huh,” Shi Mei tiredly rubbed his temples.”That's our Chu Wangning, the owner of the
Beidou Club. He has a very peculiar idea of the club's repertoire. Don't take his words to
heart — he's rarely satisfied with anything.”

“So, it's literally his club?” Mo Ran blinked in surprise, realizing how reckless it was to
provoke this tiger by the whiskers. “So…”

“The club benefits from visitors paying for the performers' shows, and you made quite decent
tips, so you have nothing to worry about,” Shi Mei glanced at the gradually dispersing crowd.
“People come here not for art but to relax. They need a show, and they need different dancers.
Your performance is far from ideal, but many come here and are willing to pay precisely for...
that.”

He didn't use specific words, but everything was clear without saying — men exposing
themselves on stage to music and gyrating their hips in the spotlight brought profits. Shi
Mingjing liked profits — and he was looking forward to seeing Mo Ran in the next shows.

“So, can I come tomorrow?” Mo Ran decided to clarify just in case.

“Tomorrow we hold a live music event, so the stage will be occupied,” Shi Mei shook his
head.”You'll have to wait a little. The next show of this format will be only in a week, next
Friday."

“Great. Sign me up for the program,” at that moment, Mo Ran was so resolute in his decision
to hunt for the elusive dancer that he wouldn't have backed down even if Shi Mei tried to
dissuade him. Fortunately, the administrator seemed to be on his side.

But did that mean that next Friday he will see that mysterious dancer once again?

The need to see his next performance was unexplainable, yet he still felt drawn to him even
more than he was ever before.

“hat guy who performed at the very end of the show… he…” Mo Ran started again, but Shi
Mei had already moved away from him and was engaged in an animated conversation with
the bartender.

Mo Ran had no choice but to go home and wait for the next opportunity to ask all the
questions that interested him.

Of course, the next day, when he had fully sobered up, he realized how foolishly he had
behaved and was totally embarrassed about the promises he had made. He had no intention of
becoming a stripper, so why did he insist on being included in the program for the next
week?

Was he seriously planning to prove something to the snobby club owner while hunting for
that beautiful dancer?

Mo Ran had to admit that he had gotten himself into a serious mess.

A couple of times, he even considered calling Shi Mingjing to cancel the performance — but
for some reason, he kept putting off the call, and in the end, he never made it.
 Blending into the background

"You're right; it's not that often that you come across such a… talent," Chu Wanning
conceded, acknowledging that Shi Mei had a point. He didn't want to admit it, but the
newcomer administrator Shi had picked up from the street had managed to impress him at
first sight.

It's just that he wasn't a dancer. Probably never danced in his life at all.

If the Beidou Club were indeed a strip club, it wouldn't matter much. However, Chu Wanning
wanted his establishment to remain primarily a creative platform for dancers. There was a
significant difference between stripping and performing. Maybe the audience was always
willing to pay generously for a chance to look at men getting undressed, but such clientele
rarely appreciated other dance genres.

Chu Wanning was not pleased with such a perspective.

"So, should I include Mo Ran in the regular evening program?" Shi Mei wondered.

"Well, it’s not like we have that many performers to be extremely picky. If Mo Ran wants to
join us, so be it," replied Chu Wanning evasively, leaving himself room for retreat.

He doubted that Mo Ran would really want to dance every week. When Wanning first saw
him in the dressing room, he looked completely panicked, and at some point, Wanning even
felt sorry for him. He even decided to help Mo Ran pick an outfit.

Clearly, at that moment, he had no idea that Mo Ran had no dancing skills – otherwise, he
wouldn't have intervened or even would have asked him to leave the club. Nevertheless, it
was too late to regret his past choices. Now Wanning had to reap the consequences of his
unsuccessful decision. Secretly, he still hoped that Mo Ran would get tired soon and quit his
new job on his own.

"We could pair him up with someone experienced," Shi Mingjing suggested. "Nangong Si
has been dancing for several years; he could teach the newcomer a lot."

"Pairing him up with someone would be like having two weak dancers on one stage instead
of one," mumbled Wanning, tapping his fingers on the bar counter in irritation. "No. That's
out of the question. Besides, who would agree to..."

Shi Mei shrugged.

"Fine. If Nangong Si is willing, I won't object to them performing together either," Chu
Wanning gave in.

It was quite strange that Shi Mei was so interested in Mo Ran, but at that moment, Wanning
didn't pay much attention to that fact. After all, it was his administrator’s job to scout for new
dancers. How he selected and chose them was none of his concern.
After that conversation, Chu Wanning was so busy that he didn't bother to inquire whether
Mo Ran attended rehearsals or not. As a result, on the day of the performance, he
encountered him again just before going on stage — and this time, their meeting turned out to
be even less pleasant than the first one was.

"...So, you mean the payment for the performance will be lower?" Mo Ran’s outraged voice
came from the dressing room. "Why didn't anyone warn me about this?"

Chu Wanning had no intention of interfering, but still, he wasn’t above eavesdropping since
he had already become an involuntary witness to this indignant tirade. "The audience pays for
the performance, and clearly you're dancing in tandem. Naturally, the payment will be split
between the two of you," Shi Mingjing explained patiently.

"I didn't volunteer to dance with anyone," Mo Ran snapped. "Last time, everyone was fine
when I performed solo, weren't they?"

Shi Mei didn't respond to that, and Chu Wanning felt he had to intervene in order to set things
straight.

"Last time, no one knew that you couldn't dance," he allowed himself to enter the dressing
room without knocking and immediately regretted it because Mo Ran was undressed and
seemed to be in no hurry to put something on. In the bright light, his tanned skin gleamed like
honeyed gold — he seemed to have applied reflective glitter to his collarbones and chest,
which was probably drying now. The only covered part of his body was his hips.

For a few seconds, Chu Wanning was simply left speechless.

He thought he had made it clear to Shi Mei that he didn't want to see yet another half-naked
gyrating performance on his club's stage. But apparently, the joint dance of Mo Ran and
Nangong Si was as far from a ballet interlude as it could be.

"He’s going to dance like this?" he decided to clarify. His throat was so dry that the question
came out almost harshly.

Mo Ran raised an eyebrow.

"He's going to dance in a costume, but ‘he’ hasn't finished getting dressed yet," he
deliberately mocked Chu Wanning, referring to himself in the third person.

It was only then that Chu Wanning noticed thin, golden suspenders hanging next to Mo Ran's
clothes. Probably Mo Ran planned to attach them to the waistband of his jeans.

"We didn't have costumes suitable for a duet dance, so we decided to make do with what we
had and just sew matching elements..." Shi Mei hurriedly explained, deliberately avoiding
eye contact. "There are only ten minutes left before the performance, so it's too late to change
anything anyway."

Mo Ran, on the contrary, didn't even try to feign embarrassment. There was a dark challenge
in his gaze.
"I took the liberty of coming up with this costume idea for myself and my partner," he
smirked, clearly well aware of how annoyed Wanning was. "I think it will look impressive on
both of us."

"This is the second time you are performing, and you think you have enough experience to
judge what looks impressive and what doesn't?" Wanning wanted to ask, yet he hesitated to
say this to avoid further tension. He was already uncomfortable just looking at the half-naked
torso; he was too afraid he’d stumble and embarrass himself because he already was too
distracted and pissed off by the sight of ripped muscle on a half-naked chest.

Perhaps he should have asked himself right away why he had developed such a strong dislike
for the newcomer because Mo Ran wasn’t the only dancer in the club who came to Beidou
without experience — there was nothing unusual about that. Naturally, it took time for a
dancer to learn and truly shine on stage.

But not every newcomer behaved so arrogantly from day one.

Wanning sighed, realizing that he shouldn't have been so harsh to Mo Ran — especially now
when there was little time left before the performance. Mo Ran could turn around and walk
away at any moment, leaving Nangong Si and everyone else to deal with the consequences.
This wasn’t something they could allow to happen.

"Alright," he left the dressing room, feeling too exhausted from the confrontation. It was the
first time he noticed that he started feeling uncomfortable in his own club. The tension made
him uneasy, and he longed for the serene atmosphere that no longer was there.

***

The joint performance of Mo Ran and Nangong Si turned out to be one of the best shows that
Chu Wanning had witnessed in the past few months. Both dancers were in perfect sync, and,
considering they had almost no time for preparation, this was quite unexpected. Even if Chu
Wanning wanted to nitpick, he couldn't find any reasons to do so.

Mo Ran didn't look vulgar, despite being almost half-naked — the lighting and the golden
body paint created an illusion of streams of light flowing over his skin. That was a stunning
sight.

Chu Wanning was still upset about Mo Ran's crude behavior before the performance, but he
decided not to ask Shi Mei to exclude him from future shows. If Mo Ran was willing to give
his best on a weekly basis as he did now, Wanning would somehow make himself come to
terms with his presence.

Towards the end of the show, he was still contemplating whether he should talk to Mo Ran to
clarify that he didn't have anything personal against him. However, by the time he finished
changing into his everyday clothes, the new dancer had disappeared from the dressing room.
He probably decided to leave early that evening — and it was for the best, as Chu Wanning
was still unsure of what he wanted to say to him.

He set off in search of Shi Mingjing, assuming that he would still be waiting for him at the
bar, but the club's administrator chose precisely that moment to disappear somewhere as well.
The visitors were gradually dispersing, and the waiters and bartenders lazily moved between
the tables, tidying up the place.

Chu Wanning realized it was already time to go home.

He lived not far from the club and rarely used his car, preferring to walk. Unfortunately, his
ankle was throbbing painfully after the last performance, so he had to walk slower than usual.
At some point, it became clear as day that he had to take a taxi.

Chu Wanning stopped not far from the back entrance and started rummaging through his
pockets for his phone. Unfortunately, just as he felt the outlines of his new iPhone, he heard
embarrassed laughter coming from the direction of the doors.

“A-Ran, oh, stop acting like a gremlin! You make me laugh so hard..!”

Chu Wanning's breath caught for a moment. He was sure the voice he just heard belonged to
Shi Mingjing, and yet he still couldn't believe that the club's administrator could be there with
Mo Ran. Were these two spending time together?...

Wanning hesitated, unsure of how to act. He was about to call a cab, and the drivers knew
this spot well because it was much easier to park here than near the main entrance. But how
was he going to explain to Shi Mei and Mo Ran that he wasn't lurking behind the corner to
watch them?

He decided to quickly retreat from the scene unnoticed.

“That’s not funny! I’ve been thinking about that elusive dancer all the time, and now that I
know it’s probably not Nangong Si, I’m lost.” This time, Chu Wangning recognized Mo
Ran's voice. “What if that mysterious performer is you, and that's why you don't want to
reveal his name to me?”

Wanning frowned, trying to understand what they were talking about. Shi Mingjing, the club
administrator, him, knowing only that he refused to dance and needed money and
accommodation. Shi Mei did an excellent job in his role, but he never performed on stage.

What exactly did Mo Ran mean?

Wanning shook his head, realizing that its none of his business.

Shi Mei was superb at his job, and Wanning had no intention of judging him, even if he
decided to have an affair with the dancer. Mo Ran was hot — it would be silly to deny he had
a great physique. It was quite easy to succumb to his charm. Wanning rarely considered
anyone truly handsome, but Mo Ran was totally an exception, an epitome of classic male
beauty standards.
"Oh, your imagination is really too wild," Shi Mei laughed again, and Chu Wanning felt like
a pervert for keeping to eavesdrop on the two. He should have left a long time ago, but for
some reason, he hesitated.

"Then just tell me who he is!" Mo Ran continued to persuade Shi Mingjing. "Or have you
been told to keep it a secret by your overbearing nerd of a boss?"

Chu Wanning struggled not to cough. He barely restrained himself from giving away his
presence.

He knew well that the only person he had to be angry at was probably himself because no one
made him stay and eavesdrop on his employees — yet still… What did this Mo Ran think of
himself to call him an overbearing nerd?!

In any case, leaving before there was even more to overhear was the only right thing he could
do.

***

Chu Wanning couldn't calm down even after getting home. The names Mo Ran called him
kept swirling in his head.

"An overbearing boss... a nerd..."

If before, he thought that Mo Ran's dislike towards him primarily stemmed from an aversion
to criticism, now he wasn't so sure. Apparently, Mo Ran's animosity towards Chu Wanning
was so strong that he didn't even bother to hide it.

Shi Mei also didn't rush to stand up for Wanning. He merely laughed and brushed off Mo
Ran's words, which seemed almost like a flirtation.

Wanning shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation.

Contrary to what his employees thought of him, he was neither narrow-minded nor nerdy or
homophobic, and he understood flirt when he witnessed it. If Shi Mei liked Mo Ran, there
was nothing wrong with that.

Should he hint to Shi Mingjing that he tacitly approved of his relationship with Mo ZRan and
that they didn't need to hide from him anymore?

After another half an hour of hesitation and doubt, Chu Wanning finally picked up his phone
and typed a short message.

"Mo Ran seems to be a good choice."

He pressed the "Send" button without pondering over how his message could be interpreted.
He didn't want to explain that he overheard a conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear, so this
simple phrase was the only way to convey to Shi Mei that he didn't mind his employees being
together.

Almost immediately, his phone vibrated, and a winking smiling emoji appeared on the
screen. It seemed that Shi Mingjing had read the message and was glad that the truth was
finally out.

Feeling content with what he had just done, Chu Wanning finally went to sleep.
 Butterfly hunt begins

There was no soul in the dim and secluded corridor that connected the stage exit to the staff
rooms. The place seemed devoid of any life or activity, the only sounds there being the
distant echoes of music and laughter from the main area of the club.

Objectively, there was nothing to do there, and even the mobile network reception wasn’t
working properly.

Leaning against the wall, Mo Ran pondered whether he would be lucky enough to catch the
mysterious dancer this time. It has been almost two months since he started working at
Beidou, and yet, he hadn't managed to catch sight of the performer neither in the dressing
room nor anywhere else. If he was superstitious, he would have already suspected the man
was a ghost that was able to dissolve into the night a moon moth.

He never had a chance to learn who was that dancer, but obviously, it wasn’t Shi Mei —
administrator Shi wouldn't have had time to run back and forth between the stage and the bar
with all the workload he had.

Besides, Mo Ran assumed that the mysterious performer had to be outstanding not only in
their movements but also in their looks. Such grace and elegance on stage seemed to demand
a certain beauty and a well-built physique. To float in the air and barely touch the stage, one
had to be in excellent physical shape, and Mo Ran couldn't help but admire the skill and
passion displayed by the dancer.

He observed every performer in the club for weeks, trying to figure out who this captivating
dancer could be, but to no avail. It was as if the performer only existed on the stage and
disappeared into thin air once the performance was over. No matter how hard he tried, Mo
Ran couldn't find any clues or hints that would lead him to the identity of the veiled dancer.

Many times, he was tempted to give up on his quest, feeling frustrated and hopeless in his
pursuit. Yet, every time he saw the mysterious man perform, his curiosity was reignited, and
he couldn't resist the urge to continue his search.

It was as if the dancer had cast a spell on him, drawing him in with their enigmatic presence.

It was like a strange, inexplicable obsession.

Mo Ran didn't miss a single performance.

The faceless man lived in his mind rent-free, filling all his fantasies.

Yet, he still didn't have even a name.

Mo Ran tapped his fingers against the wall in time with the music, knowing that the dancer,
as always, would finish his act, and then people would start to slowly disperse.
At such a late hour, no one would likely notice the temporary absence of two people.

The soft transitions of the music teased his imagination, and even without being able to see
the show, he could envision what was happening on the stage.

Mo Ran knew that the dancer didn't rehearse with the others, which meant he either
improvised or was so skilled that he choreographed his performances himself every time.

The graceful movements of his long legs, the broadened shoulders, and the flowing
smoothness of his hand gestures were hypnotizing like a flight of a butterfly in the heavy
rain.

Mo Ran wanted to catch this butterfly by its tangled tail.

He longed to touch this man, gathering moon dust from its quivering skin.

He longed…

Mo Ran closed his eyes, fully aware that the figure on the stage was a real person made of
flesh and blood. A stranger.

Perhaps lurking in the darkness in an attempt to catch him was not his brightest idea.

Most likely, the stranger preferred to change costumes in solitude and avoided attending
group rehearsals because Mo Ran was not the only one yearning to meet him.

At that moment, the final chords melted like heated wax in the subdued wave of applause.

The dancer was expected to appear at any minute now.

The faint sound of footsteps echoed, and Mo Ran moved his leg forward, completely
blocking the narrow corridor.

The footsteps froze, but the collision never occurred.

As if from a distance, the noise from the hall reached Mo Ran’s ears, and calm music started
to play again — this time, a soothing, soft beat, but in the corridor, it was utterly quiet.

Why didn't the stranger move? Did he... stop?

Mo Ran frowned, considering the possibilities. It was too dark around him for anyone to see
him.

So why was the stranger standing still?

Mo Ran continued to wait, frozen in one pose, motionless like a statue. More agonizingly
long moments passed, followed by a soft, indistinct sigh.

In the next moment, the stranger stumbled upon Mo Ran's foot and let out a frustrated cry.

"Ah!"
Mo Ran managed to catch him before he fell, gripping his shoulders and waist and turning
him towards himself. The stranger's shoulders twitched, and he immediately tried to squirm,
clearly realizing what had happened.

Mo Ran held on tighter, and what was initially meant to prevent a fall turned into a firm grip.

"Finally caught you."

The fresh, intoxicating aroma of the apple orchard made Mo Ran’s head spin. The touch of a
slender body through the thin silk of a suit shirt ignited his imagination, making his body go
on full alert. The soft warmth of the stranger’s skin seeped through the thin fabric, sparking
excitement. The sharpness of the stranger’s knee digging into Mo Ran’s inner thigh and a
quick gasp made Mo Ran’s blood boil.

It was definitely not Shi Mei — administrator Shi was the kind that would burst into laughter,
patting Mo Ran on the cheek instead of freezing in place. Also, the scent of blossoming trees
definitely didn’t belong to Shi Mei. He lacked the dewiness of petals and the floral softness
and often smelled like soap. The stranger, on the other hand, was sweet as nectar. The scent
of his skin was tantalizingly warm and delicate, intensifying at the hair and the base of his
neck.

Mo Ran tried not to let this elusive sweetness seep under his skin. He had to keep his head
clear not to cross any boundaries. Yet the sensation of the stranger becoming frozen in his
arms suddenly filled him with a completely inappropriate sense of out-of-place euphoria.

There was no resistance. None!

Mo Ran let his fingers dive under the veil. In complete darkness, he caressed the sharp angles
of the mysterious dancer’s jawline. Then, he moved higher, barely brushing the trembling
corner of the stranger’s mouth.

“Why don’t you want to be recognized? That’s why you cover your face at all times — isn’t
it?” he whispered in a tone that he himself thought seductive.

The stranger tensed up almost instantly at Mo Ran’s words. It seemed that the fear of
exposure was what troubled him the most.

Pushing the man against the wall, Mo Ran felt exhilarated. Now the dancer’s heart was
beating too fast. The heat emanated from him in scorching waves.

Mo Ran's lips touched the stranger’s mouth tentatively through the thin fabric.

That actually managed to make the dancer act. He hit Mo Ran in the chest, desperately trying
to push him away. The blow wasn't particularly strong, but it was unexpected. Mo Ran
managed to catch the stranger's fist just in time to soften the impact, yet he was barely able to
hold the man’s hand in place.

The nameless dancer remained stubbornly silent, breathing heavily. It seemed like he wasn't
sure what to do next or what to expect from Mo Ran. Since he was unable to fend his attacker
off, he paused once again.

“Listen, I don't intend to harm you; I just want to know your name,” Mo Ran tried to calm
him down. “I've been watching you for a month, and I'm totally crazy about how you dance. I
haven't missed a single one of your performances.”

“......”

The stranger met Mo Ran’s confession with stunned silence. In the next second, he slapped
Mo Ran so hard that the already dark corridor momentarily turned pitch black.

Mo Ran breathed heavily. A jolt of sudden pain immediately mixed with aggressive
excitement.

He should have immediately let go of the dancer, as the slap was undoubtedly meant to be a
clear "no" — but the adrenaline rush temporarily clouded his judgment.

His frown deepened as he continued to instinctively hold onto the stranger — feeling his
wrists through the shirt, inhaling the wild sweetness of his subtle fear.

The unexpected click of a light switch blinded them both for a few seconds.

"Mо Ran, what are you doing h..." Surprised, Shi Mei seemed to choke on the words.

Mo Ran was facing Chu Wanning in complete bewilderment, realizing absently that the silk
veil wasn’t able to cover the club owner’s face anymore. Chu Wanning… was it really him
all along?

Chu Wanning looked disheveled, frightened, and angry. The corners of his eyes were
reddened, his pupils dilated, and his nose flared as he breathed heavily.

He was still wearing the clothes he used for the performance. His eyeliner was smeared all
over his face. Golden flecks of confetti got tangled in the dark curls of his hair.

It was him — there could be no doubt.

The alluring butterfly turned out to be the owner of the club...

Chu Wanning jerked away immediately the moment he realized Mo Ran could see him. He
tried to free himself — and this time Mo Ran was so stunned that he just let him go.

Absurdly, the longer Mo Ran watched him, the hotter his heart became. For the first time, he
found himself completely bewildered, mesmerized by the beauty of the person before him.

He wondered why he hadn't noticed before how elegant Chu Wanning was. Why hadn’t he
seen the charm in his red lips and the darkness of his eyes? For the first time, he was
discovering a person whose appearance had previously only annoyed him.

"I'm sorry," he lowered his gaze, feeling guilty. Perhaps Chu Wanning might have thought he
was apologizing for what happened, but in reality, Mo Ran just wanted to stop feeling shame
for all those rude words he had ever said about Wanning in moments of delusion.

The overwhelming feeling of guilt consumed him. He continued to watch, somewhat

perplexed, as Wanning unconsciously traced the spots where Mo Ran, apparently, had
touched him.

Wanning’s shirt got hopelessly wrinkled, and that made the sight somehow even more sultry.

Chu Wanning stepped back, avoiding eye contact, fixing his hair. Then, without sparing
anyone another glance, he walked away.

He didn't say a word.

He just left.

When the door closed behind him, Mo Ran finally regained his ability to speak.

“Why didn't you warn me?!.. “ he was still shaken and had no idea what to do now.

Chu Wanning definitely didn't seem like someone approachable – Mo Ran never had any
desire to get close to him. If he only knew!..

“What exactly should I have warned you of?” Shi Mei narrowed his eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Are you really asking me what's wrong?! You made a fool of me!” Mo Ran once again
became convinced that administrator Shi was clearly making fun of him. He couldn’t fail to
notice how obsessed Mo Ran was, and how desperate he was to find out the identity of that
dancer. Yet he still kept Mo Ran in the dark.

“Well, you didn't seem to like him very much.” Shi Mei shrugged. “At least that's how things
from my perspective were.”

“You really thought that?! ” Mo Ran felt like he was about to laugh hysterically.
“Nevermind. I think he’s going to fire me after what I did anyway.”

“It's your own fault, so place the blame where it belongs,” Shi Mei chuckled.

Mo Ran grimaced, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that Shi Mei was right. If he wasn’t
making fun of Chu Wanning, calling him names, and mocking him, the disaster wouldn’t be
so severe. No one made Mo Ran dig this grave for himself with his own hands. No one
forced him to make all those snide remarks about Chu Wanning or lash at him at every turn.
No one asked him to harass him in the dark... He could have acted differently from the very
beginning — if he hadn't been such a fool.

“Just so you know, Chu Wanning once mentioned that he thought you were a good choice.
Probably, what he meant was that you had potential as a performer, and maybe he even liked
you, though it’s hard to tell because he’s not the kind to say something like this to someone
directly. Even though you never cared about his opinion, you should have felt this,” Shi Mei
added after a long pause.
“He? Liked me?..” Mo Ran was so caught up in his own thoughts that initially he thought he
misheard.

His mind felt as if it had been doused with icy water.

Were they talking about the same Chu Wanning, the one who spoke about Mo Ran in the
third person, not even bothering to turn his head in his direction? The same Wanning who
believed that someone like Mo Ran didn't belong on the stage of his club?

It was hard to believe.

“I'm not going to meddle in your relationship,” Shi Mei concluded. “I'm an administrator, not
a family therapist.”

Mo Ran could only watch in astonishment as Shi Mei left him, going about his own business.
The last thing he expected was to hear something like that — but apparently, it was an
evening of surprises. And, in what Shi Mei said, there was much more truth than Mo Ran
would like to admit to himself.

What if Chu Wanning really wasn’t that opposed to him? What if beneath the apparent
coldness, there was hidden sympathy all this time?

If this were the case, perhaps Mo Ran should at least apologize for his foolish behavior.

"If he really liked me, he's probably terribly embarrassed right now," Mo Ran speculated.
"Maybe he would have listened to me and let me explain everything if Shi Mei hadn't shown
up..."

He stopped himself, unwilling to admit that he had messed everything up from the very
beginning.

It was truly absurd — how had he managed to ruin his relationship with the very person that
was the reason why he came to the club in the first place?

Mo Ran reached for the doorknob of Chu Wanning's office but still couldn't decide what
exactly he wanted to say or do.

It took him about a minute to gather himself before he finally knocked on the door.

The silence in the corridor was the only answer he got. No footsteps or any other sounds were
coming from the club owner's office that could betray his presence.

Did Chu Wanning really leave?

Mo Ran knocked once again, this time with more confidence and persistence.

Still, there was no response.

"Chu Wanning!" he called out.

No one answered.

He decided to take a look around. The door turned out to be open and, as he pushed it,
partially revealed the interior of the office.

No one seemed to be inside.

On the glass table stood a laptop and a teacup. The leather chair was shifted a bit so that it
was easy to drape clothes over its back. The familiar shirt and trousers were hanging on it in
disarray, so Chu Wanning had probably already changed and left.

Too curious, Mo Ran stepped inside, surveying the surroundings. He scrutinized the blackout
curtains and dusty shelves stuffed with photographs. One of them had depicted the dance
troupe, and he even leaned, trying to find out where Wanning was in it.

“What are you doing here?”

Mo Ran almost dropped the photograph because the voice behind him sounded truly hostile.
He turned to face Wanning, still holding the frame like a shield.

“I came here to…” He hesitated, realizing that Chu Wanning wasn’t dressed.

Technically, maybe he wasn't undressed as well, but the towel around his hips revealed so
much more than Wanning had ever shown from the stage.

Mo Ran's gaze fixed on the dancer’s tight, muscular abdomen, and his mouth almost started
to drip with saliva.

“...to dig through other people's belongings, you mean?” Chu Wanning's voice barely
registered through the throbbing haze in Mo Ran's head.

“Yes.” Mo Ran nodded, trying to sound confident. He barely understood what he had just
been asked. His lungs felt light from the lack of oxygen, and hunger seemed to have affected
his ability to think.

“Get out.”

Mo Ran didn't move an inch.

It felt like taking even a single step would cause his body to crumble into microscopic grains
of sand. Awkwardness made him a statue, while desire made blood rush to his groin.

He continued to stand in front of Wanning, barely understanding why he was being glared at
with such anger, while the velvety lobes of Wanning’s ears seemed to glow, betraying the
flush.

Did he really make him feel shy? Then why wasn't Wanning rushing to get dressed?

Mo Ran smiled, deciding to perceive the situation as a challenge. Some people desperately
needed to appear unapproachable, yet at the same time, their very demeanor invited others to
cross their boundaries. Perhaps Chu Wanning was one of this kind?

Though he didn't smile in return, a blush rapidly spread across his chest and neck. Even the
areolas on his chest were now dark crimson.

Mo Ran only now noticed that Wanning's skin was also damp, adding to the overall allure.
He must have recently taken a shower.; water droplets trickled down his tousled hair onto his
shoulders, gliding along the sharp contours of his pale collarbones.

Mo Ran’s fingers instinctively clenched in the air, as he finally realized that no matter how
much he lusted after Wanning, there was no way to touch him. He finally snapped out of his
stupor.

"You need to dry off," his own voice sounded irritatingly sharp and muffled. The words got
stuck in his mouth like slices of a particularly tangy quince.

"My things are next to you," Chu Wanning didn't move from his spot, merely nodding his
head towards the chair where his clothes were hanging in disarray.

He didn't ask Mo Ran to hand them over — just stated the fact matter-of-factly in a king-to-
his-peasant tone.

"I don’t bite," Mo Ran smirked, refusing to back down.

Somewhere deep inside, he understood that he was behaving like a bully, but the reaction of
Wanning to his words triggered an inexplicable pleasure within him. If it weren't for the way
Wanning clenched his jaw so tightly, one might think that he was enjoying this just as much
as Mo Ran did. Perhaps that was indeed the case?

"Should I call security?" Wanning asked, and his words finally jolted Mo Rann back to his
senses.

He hadn't misheard, as Wanning’s finger was indeed hovering over the panic button.

"No... I'm leaving now," Mo Ran shook his head abruptly, trying to suppress the desire that
for some reason kept coursing through him, never subsiding.

A couple of seconds ago, he was almost certain that he saw interest in Wanning’s gaze. He
felt the sexual tension building between them — the coming storm was going to sweep them
both… at least that was what he thought. But now, he couldn't even remember why he had
come to such conclusions. Was he delusional to imagine something like this?

Chu Wanning still stood before him, almost undressed, but now, looking at him, it was
impossible to entertain the thought that he was trying to seduce anyone with his resistance.
Obviously, he meant what he said — there was no hidden message in his words. He must
have felt cold after the shower and was simply waiting for Mo Ran to leave because his
presence made him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Mo Ran stepped back, feeling like an idiot. "I'm leaving. I'm so sorry..."
He walked all the way to the door, his head hanging low.

For several days after that evening, he kept waiting for Shi Mei to call and tell him not to
come to the club anymore.

But Shi Mei never called...

***

After that incident, Chu Wanning practically disappeared from Mo Ran’s radar. He no longer
performed, and he was rarely seen in the club. Mo Ran, in his turn, devoted more and more
time to rehearsals, subconsciously hoping to see the club owner again. But the longer
Wanning was absent, the clearer it became to Mo Ran that Wanning was avoiding him.

"People like him don't belong on stage," Chu Wanning had said about his choreography on
the very first day.

Perhaps he was right — but in the end, it was he who started avoiding Mo Ran first. It was a
miracle he had not fired Mo Ran yet. It seemed that the two of them didn't belong on the
same stage together after all.

Mo Ran knew that he wasn’t a professional dancer, and he should probably have quit months
ago. Still, he persisted in holding on to this job because he secretly hoped that Wanning
would at some point return on stage.

"Leave him alone," Shi Mei tried to intervene. "He's not avoiding you, he's just busy."

But time passed, and Mo Ran realized that Shi Mei’s excuse had nothing to do with reality.

Chu Wanning was really avoiding him after everything that happened between them.

"I'd die for a chance to dance privately for him," Mo Ran confessed to Shi Mei at some point.
At that time he was already becoming more confident on stage. He knew he could perform a
dance without looking pathetic. "I don't know how to arrange it, but he should know that I'm
working on myself and not giving up. I want to see him. It's been several months — why
hasn't he shown up at the club yet?"

"You just haven't crossed paths. He's here when it's necessary — he just doesn't perform," Shi
Mei replied, shrugging. "There's nothing strange about it. He's been looking tired lately and is
also planning to take a vacation."

"How long?"

Instead of answering, Shi Mei just shrugged again. It seemed he didn't know either — or he
was simply trying to protect his boss’s private life in every possible way.
Mo Ran spent about a week persuading Shi Mingjing to arrange a meeting with Wanning, but
he refused to budge.

He agreed to help him only when news started to circulate about the possibility of the owner
selling the club.

And for some reason, this news made Mo Ran feel true despair.
 The Trap

“It can't go on like this," Chu Wanning finished his glass of diluted whiskey. The alcohol
didn't bring any relief — on the contrary, it felt like drinking from a pool of suffering.

"It's just exhaustion. You are going on a vacation, and probably you’ll feel better after you
return,” Shi Mei tried to reason as he reached for the bottle to pour some more. But Wanning
stopped him.

"I’m done," he pressed his lips together. "I have a flight tomorrow morning, and I still need to
pack my things."

"But weren’t you going to stay until the end of the performance?" Shi Mei asked.

He looked at Wanning with a flicker of concern.

Chu Wanning sighed.

After all, it was literally his club. However, it had to be admitted that Chu Wanning had been
considering selling the place for a couple of weeks now. He even called a real estate appraiser
to find out how much he could expect to get for it.

Shi Mei, of course, already knew about Wanning’s intentions.

"I'll stay for an hour or so," Chu Wanning shrugged.

Lately, he felt like every little thing was trying to drive him out of his mind. The show
program seemed to be plummeting into an abyss. The new performances were becoming
even more provocative and there was nothing he could do about it. Even experienced dancers
were now pushing the boundaries, and Chu Wanning had no idea how to stop it all. He
couldn’t just casually fire half of the staff. Moreover, the audience seemed to be glad the
show was getting more spicy. Some visitors even started asking for private dances.

Chu Wanning felt the club he once opened as a stage for creative dancers was slowly turning
into a brothel.

Of course, it all started with Mo Ran's performance, because after seeing him, everyone else
assumed that if Wanning wasn't entirely against such choreography and costumes, then the
same rules were now applying to the rest of the troupe.

Chu Wanning frowned as he twirled an empty glass in his hands, watching how its edges
shimmered in the neon strobe lights. He tried not to think about Mo Ran. Just hearing his
name was able to make him want to head to the airport and spend the rest of the night in the
waiting area instead of the bar he owned.

After the night when Mo Ran mistook him for Shi Mei in the corridor and then
unapologetically invaded his office and bullied him, Chu Wanning lost all motivation to
perform or work. He was letting things take their own course. He no longer danced and
wasn’t really enjoying the shows, so he became a rare guest in his own club. He also didn't
feel the strength to fight against the way the dancers now allowed themselves to perform on
stage, nor did he have the courage to admit that Mo Ran had simply won.

"There are still two performances left," Shi Mei sighed sympathetically, as if sensing Chu
Wanning's turbulent mood. "Want me to make you an espresso? The team and I were
planning to spend some time with you after the show, and we'd be more than happy if you
stayed with us a little longer..."

"I am really too exhausted," Chu Wanning rested his head on his hand. "But maybe coffee
will help."

"Great," Shi Mei stepped away to fiddle with the coffee machine, and Wanning shifted his
gaze to the stage, where Mo Ran's performance has just started.

This time, Mo Ran was dressed in loose pants and a bright vest with corset lacing at the back
— his outfit was relatively modest, considering his previous outfits. It was so humbling to
think that once Wanning felt genuinely worried that Mo Ran might feel uncomfortable
performing in a revealing attire… How wrong had he been.

The music started, indicating a mid-show interlude, and Chu Wanning almost turned his back
to the stage, but something stopped him at the last moment.

He could swear he felt Mo Ran's gaze linger on him for a few seconds before moving on to
other spectators.

"Nonsense..." Chu Wanning shook his head, continuing to watch the performance. Probably,
he must have imagined it.

The light pulsated around the dancer.

Spreading his arms, Mo Ran executed a slow half-turn pirouette on tiptoes, revealing his now
untied back. Naked skin revealed the silver winglike petals drawn on his sharp shoulder
blades. Each muscle movement was setting the sketch in motion, bringing the flower on his
back to life.

In a split second, the silvery strokes blended anew as Mo Ran spun in place to the rhythm of
the dynamic music. The lace of his vest still clung around his waist, twirling with each turn.

Mo Ran moved across the stage with ease — it was so hard to believe he had been dancing
for less than half a year. His choreography was simple yet enchanting. He shamelessly
embraced the strength of his body, fully aware that the audience loved it.

In an instant, he let the lace slip through his fingers, bringing it close to his face as if it were
an exotic flower. Then he tossed it aside, allowing it to fall to the stage as he dropped to his
knees, his head bowed. His face remained hidden, but Chu Wanning felt a vague sense of
unease. He could swear that all attention was directed at him once again.
The final chords drowned in wild applause that made his ears ring. Some spectators were so
enthusiastic that they crowded near the stage, leaving their seats.

"How much should I pay for him to dance for me?" someone approached the bar counter,
swaying slightly. Chu Wanning wasn't in the right condition to judge the stranger, but for
some reason, the smell of stale perfume mixed with sweat and alcohol totally disgusted him.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. This performer's private dance has been priced at three thousand
dollars by another client, and it was booked several hours ago," Shi Mei informed in a dry
tone, and Chu Wanning frowned at his words.

"Who are they talking about?" He knew he shouldn't meddle, but he couldn't help his own
curiosity. Three thousand dollars for an hour — it seemed enormous compared to the regular
tips and fees visitors paid at the entrance for the entire evening.

"It's about Taxian-Jun. His new performance is called “The Flower of Everlasting Harted”,
and obviously everyone enjoyed it a bit too much,” Shi Mei was referring to Mo Ran’s stage
pseudonym. "He's now sort of a celebrity in our club, and many have been waiting for a
chance to book his dance privately. Today, he agreed to do a private performance for the first
time — haven’t I mentioned it to you?"

"Ah, yes..." Chu Wanning sighed, continuing to frown.

"Three thousand five hundred! I'm willing to pay more!" the persistent man didn't give up.

"It's impossible," Shi Mei shrugged. "There's an agreement."

"Four thousand," the guest kept raising the stakes. "Damn it, I got a raise today, and it's worth
it..."

"Ten," Chu Wanning interrupted coldly. As he met Shi Mei's widened eyes, he sighed. "Or
should I pay more?"

The man finally realized that an hour-long private dance wasn't probably worth it and waved
his hand, deciding to leave.

Shi Mei blinked in bewilderment.

“Need more?” Chu Wanning continued to melancholically twirl the empty glass on the
counter.

“But that's almost half of your entire income for this month!... You're the club owner!” Shi
Mingjing looked astonished. “What were you thinking?..”

Chu Wanning met his troubled gaze with a wince. He himself didn't know what impulse had
overtaken him when he made such a crazy bet — he probably just couldn't bear the thought
of Mo Ran dancing for someone like that repulsive man.

“No one should dance privately for such clients in my club,” he mumbled after what seemed
like an eternity.
Absurdly, even now, when he should have blamed Mo Ran for lowering the standards of their
show, he still wasn't ready to let him dance for a drunk client with an obviously warped
understanding of what a private dance entailed. He was still willing to spend half of his
monthly income to protect his wayward dancer from imminent troubles.

***

The semi-darkness of the closed room smelled like cherry brandy, chocolate, and tobacco.
The soft leather sofa pleasantly cooled through the thin fabric of Chu Wanning’s pants and
shirt. He also now wore a black velvet mask that slightly pressed against his nose.

Wanning had been sitting like this for about ten minutes. At some point, he even started
feeling drowsy, despite all the coffee he had.

He had already regretted his decision, but his remorse wasn't going to change anything now,
that he literally paid for Mo Ran to dance for him. He could only hope to gods that Mo Ran
wouldn't recognize him — otherwise, he would have to be ashamed of this situation for the
rest of his days.

"Good evening," Mo Ran awkwardly entered the room and closed the door behind him.
Apparently he was trying to guess who his client was, and this was the reason why he did
everything in such a slow manner.

Chu Wanning tensed up instantly. He knew that he had the characteristic build of a dancer,
and an observant person would easily spot his toned muscles. However, it seemed that Mo
Ran wasn’t really paying attention — at least, his expression didn’t betray any confusion.

"So, what music genre do you prefer? I can perform something specific for you," Mo Ran
continued with confidence, taking a step forward.

Chu Wanning immediately extended his hand, showing Mo Ran not to come any closer. As
he felt a bewildered gaze on him, he shook his head slowly. He didn't intend to speak because
he feared that Mo Ran would simply recognize his voice.

"Alright then. I'll improvise," Mo Ran gave a curt nod. Then he turned on the sound system
and pressed several buttons selecting the right song. "If you change your mind, just let me
know."

Chu Wanning nodded, his gaze fixed on the unbuttoned shirt Mo Ran had changed into after
his performance. He suddenly thought that if someone else were here in his place, they would
undoubtedly ask Mo Ran to take it off.

“Well, it's a good thing it's just me."

Of course, Wanning didn't harbor any illusions that his spontaneous decision could change
anything. If Mo Ran wanted to dance for the club's guests, he would probably do it, sooner or
later. Chu Wanning wasn't going to become his savior, paying for all of his dances — that
would ruin him financially.

Yet, if it was in Wanning’s powers to prevent Mo Ran from being harassed this only time, this
was totally enough for him to feel a bit better.

A velvety, lingering melody flowed from the sound system, temporarily filling the awkward
silence.

Mo Ran smiled and winked at Wanning.

"I hope you'll enjoy my dance."

He took a step closer to the center of the room. Only now did Wanning notice that he was
barefoot, as Mo Ran's naked feet silently sank into the soft carpet. A sense of foreboding
made Wanning frown — was Mo Ran really planning to undress completely in front of him?
And was he going to let him do it?..

Mo Ran's hand glided gracefully along the unbuttoned hem of his shirt, diverting his uneasy
spectator from his heavy thoughts. Using his fingers, he pulled at the loose edge of his shirt,
revealing his tanned chest for a moment only to hide it, as he turned, swaying to the rhythm
of the music. Disheveled hair fell all over his face, partially concealing his expression. As he
danced, his steps were once again coming closer to Wanning.

In an instant, he dropped to one knee in front of him and then, looking up from below,
executed an elegant half-turn, brushing Wanning’s thigh with his hand.

Chu Wanning jerked, pressing himself into the sofa. Mo Ran’s touch was fleeting, like a gust
of air, yet somehow it burned through the fabric of his pants.

Chu Wanning extended his hand forward again, shaking his head, silently urging Mo Ran to
step back — and almost screamed when Mo Ran's fingers suddenly closed around his wrist,
caressing the inner side of his palm.

Wanning didn't dare to lift his eyes, afraid that Mo Ran would definitely recognize him at
such a close distance. He tried to free his hand, pulling it away — and this time Mo Ran
easily let go of it. But then his knees literally pressed against the sofa pillows, as he loomed
over Wanning, continuing to move his hips in time with the music.

For a moment, Wanning's lungs burned for air, as his pulse thundered in his ears.

Instinctively, he tried to move away further, because at the moment, less than several inches
from his face, he could see Mo Ran's exposed torso in all its bare glory. And if he lowered his
gaze, other equally striking parts of Mo Ran’s body were coming into view as well.

But there was nowhere to retreat.

Mo Ran leisurely undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops, and brushed its edge tenderly
against Wanning’s shoulder. His breath felt hot on Wanning’s face. His proximity made
Wanning’s mind go so numb that when his hands were caught and raised above his head, he
was still trying to figure out what was happening.

In a matter of seconds, Mo Ran looped the leather belt around Wanning’s wrists and pulled
them higher, securing them in place.

Chu Wanning let out a stunned gasp. He lifted his head, trying to understand what was going
on, and was confronted with Mo Ran’s heated gaze.

Mo Ran smiled, as he pressed his thighs against Wanning’s, preventing him from getting up
or twisting away.

"We have plenty of time ahead of us," he spoke softly, drawing out every word. "And you
wanted me to improvise, Wanning."

Chu Wanning froze in place.

He had no idea if Mo Ran had figured out who he was from the very beginning, or only now,
but clearly there was no point in hiding his identity any longer. The last time he tried to
remain unrecognized in the darkness, it didn't end well — what made him think it would be
different this time?

"This doesn’t look like a private dance,” he spoke as calmly as possible, fully aware that no
matter how bold Mo Ran might seem, he wouldn't go out of line. It was Chu Wanning who
paid him for the dance — not the other way around.

"Really?" Mo Ran raised an eyebrow. "Next time, I'll try to do better for you."

"There won't be a next time," Wanning frowned, forgetting that the mask concealed the upper
part of his face. "I just wanted to make sure your dance is worth the money since you work
for me."

He intentionally sounded harsh, hoping to embarrass Mo Ran, but in the end, his own words
made his cheeks burn. What he said came out much harsher than he intended.

"Why overpay when you could just use surveillance cameras?" Mo Ran shook his head. "Chu
Wanning... Do I look stupid? Who are you trying to fool there?"

He laughed, but at the same time, he didn't make any move to distance himself or change his
position. At some point, the situation started to seriously unsettle Wanning. He couldn’t quite
understand what Mo Ran was up to.

"You are going to get the private dance you wanted. You even don't have to pay — to be
honest, it’s your club, and the idea of you watching me dance excites me like nothing else.
For so long, I felt like you didn't like me, but today you were willing to pay so much money
for just one hour with me. It's damn hot," Mo Ran shifted his gaze to Wanning’s bound
wrists.

"You don't understand," Chu Wanning tried to free his hands, but the more he struggled, the
tighter the loop became. "I don't want you to go on. I'm not interested."
"Why didn't you leave in the first few minutes then?" Mo Ran continued to grin. "Throughout
the whole performance, you never took your eyes off me. For the first time since I came here,
you were willing to pay attention — make no mistake, I watched you all the time."

Mo Ran’s voice trailed off as he waited, expecting Wanning to say something.

But Chu Wanning was so stunned that he simply couldn’t think of something he could say in
response.

He just couldn’t imagine anyone would go to such lengths just to get his attention.
 Metamorphosis

...If Chu Wanning once thought that Mo Ran was simply playing him, these assumptions
were now rapidly crumbling like a house of cards. There wasn’t any mistake, he had heard
correctly — Mo Ran had said exactly what he meant. He continued to wait for some kind of
reaction, yet Wanning was unsure what he was supposed to say now.

"You really dance much better than before," he admitted, realizing that his praise would
surely please Mo Ran. "I was wrong to say that you don't belong on the stage — you made
amazing progress..."

"I almost forgot you said this," Mo Ran laughed.

"I'm so glad to hear that," Wanning shifted his hands, which were gradually becoming numb
from being suspended for too long. "At least, there’s no misunderstanding between us. You
have become a huge part of our show. Now… would you be so kind to let me go?"

He understood that he should have asked Mo Ran to release him earlier, but somehow was
intimidated to the point of being unable to speak. Mo Ran was still looming over him
aggressively, making him feel utterly vulnerable. For this very reason, Wanning’s request
didn't sound as firm as it should have.

"Let you go?" Mo Ran continued to watch Chu Wanning. He made no attempt to move away.
Strangely, the tone in which he repeated the question carried a hint of insecurity that
contradicted the confident façade.

The next moment Chu Wanning gasped realizing that his exhale mingled with Mo Ran's
breath, getting lost under the pressure of his warm lips. The kiss was so unexpected that all
thoughts flew out of his head, leaving behind a growing sense of excitement.

The heat was spreading beneath his skin like an inexorable pyroclastic flow, coursing from
his chest down to his lower abdomen. Mo Ran was pressing tightly into his thighs, and their
bodies kept brushing against each other.

A distant thought flashed through Wanning’s head that what they were doing was terribly
wrong. Probably, he as the club owner should not have crossed the line with his employee.
But he reminded himself he was going on a vacation tomorrow, and even wasn’t sure when
he was going to return, so probably there wasn’t much harm in it. After all, the tension
between him and Mo Ran was palpable, and they both were going to benefit from getting rid
of it. This strange obsession was something that had to be worked out from Wanning’s
system, and probably Mo Ran felt the same way.

"You're tense," Mo Ran remarked casually, sliding his palm under Wanning’s shirt.

Chu Wanning shook his head and only then noticed that the velvet mask had slipped to the
side, obstructing his view. And he couldn't fix it or take it off because his hands were still tied
up.
“Were you drinking tonight?” Mo Ran continued asking questions.

“Just a little,” Chu Wanning frowned. “I wasn’t in the mood.”

“And how's your mood now?”

“Much better, thank you,” Wanning shifted in place. “Will you let me go now?”

For a moment he got distracted and only now the realization that Mo Ran totally ignored his
wish to be untied hit.

Was Mo Ran going to ignore him once again?

Maybe this joke had gone too far.

Mo Ran kept caressing Wanning’s shoulder, yet he remained silent for so long that it became
alarming. He was out of sight, and it was impossible to tell what he was really up to. The
damn velvet mask made it hard to see anything clearly even though Wanning tried to turn his
head to get the right angle.

“Aren’t you worried you’re going to miss your flight?” Mo Ran suddenly remarked, his voice
expressionless. “There's a notification on your phone about the check-in.”

Wanning felt uneasy. He fell speechless because at this moment he clearly heard the notes of
dissatisfaction in Mo Ran’s voice.

And why the hell was Mo Ran snooping through notifications on his phone?

“Untie me,” Wanning repeated, this time without any pleas. He was not going to tolerate such
treatment any longer.

“No.”

One short word now sounded scary.

Mo Ran leaned in again. The tension between him and Wanning was palpable. Even with
Wanning’s limited view, he managed to catch the alarming vibes.

“Anyone could walk in here at any moment, Mo Ran,” he decided not to ignore the unsettling
feeling this time. “What if someone sees us like this?”

Mo Ran remained silent, yet he still wasn’t in a hurry to release him.

“What are you up to?”

Just when he thought Mo Ran wouldn't answer, he finally spoke.

“Relax. I won’t hurt you, trust me. What I’m going to do is try to convince you not to leave.”
***

When Mo Ran saw Chu Wanning on stage for the first time, he had no idea who he was. Yet
Wanning’s dance captivated him to the point of obsession. Just like entomologists who, upon
spotting the iridescent wings of a rare specimen, can be filled with ecstasy and chase after the
butterfly, oblivious to obstacles and dangers, Mo Ran was too swept to think rationally.

He didn't ever collect butterflies, but even he knew that catching a rare specimen required
more than just waving a net — experienced hunters used various tricks to capture their
desired prey alive and unharmed.

Some sat in ambush.

Some set up traps with enticing bait.

Butterflies were delicate creatures; even a single wrong touch to their wings could have
irreversible consequences, and even lead to their demise.

Since Chu Wanning began deliberately avoiding him, Mo Ran had no idea how to approach
him. He vaguely understood that even if they spend this night together, his “butterfly” was
going to leave him anyway. No net was going to keep Wanning against his will. Having Chu
Wanning bound was not part of the original plan — Mo Ran wasn’t intending to frighten him.

Yet there was no denying that this was what he was doing now.

Perhaps he should really release Wanning?

"No one will disturb us til morning," Mo Ran said softly, continuing to caress Wanning’s face
through the thin fabric of the mask. "I disabled your phone and locked the room. Shi Mei
knows that you're with me, and there's no reason for him to be worried."

Chu Wanning swallowed hard.

"How exactly do you intend to persuade me?" His question seemed detached, but a clear
undercurrent of fear resonated in his voice.

Indeed, he behaved much like a frightened butterfly huddled deep within the net.

"Why are you so scared? Have I done something wrong?" Mo Ran attempted once again to
reassure Wanning. But his words were met with silence.

Mo Ran adjusted the velvet mask on Wanning’s face, lifting it slightly to catch a glimpse of
Wanning’s expression.

"Do I disgust you?"

Wanning’s frightened dark eyes widened, gazing at Mo Ran with complete bewilderment.
Swollen lips quivered, but then tightened — as if he wanted to say something, but quickly
changed his mind.

"I find pleasure in just watching you. Don't think that I'm going to force you into anything,"
Mo Ran continued more confidently. "If I fail to persuade you, I'll just let you go, and you'll
catch your flight."

It was vital for him to make Chu Wanning want to speak with him. Perhaps the overly swift
start of this night could indeed have given the man a reason to fear the worst — after all, Mo
Ran had harassed him before, and in general, acted sometimes even worse than a stalker
would. It was quite understandable that Wanning wasn’t amused by him now.

"There's no harm in looking at someone pretty. You own this club, you should know this even
better than me,” Mo Ran made another attempt to engage Chu Wanning in a conversation,
and this time his words hit the mark.

"You're not just looking," Wanning turned away pointedly as if he no longer wished to see
Mo Ran. "You're holding me here against my will."

As proof of his words, he shifted, showing that Mo Ran was still holding him in place,
blocking him with his thighs.

Somehow, his awkward attempt to move made his cock press against Mo Ran's crotch, and at
this very moment, their gazes locked.

"Well, I'm not opposed to you looking at me," Mo Ran confessed softly, finally lowering
Wanning’s velvet mask down, allowing it to dangle around the man's neck.

He intentionally hadn't adjusted it to set it in place because he wasn't certain how the man
would react to his nudity, as he was already undressed.

A second passed, and Chu Wanning’s gaze fell upon Mo Ran’s own bare shoulders, and
traced lower, setting on his muscled abdomen, and bare thighs. As his eyes were descending
lower,, his cheeks and ears took on a crimson hue.

"Why are you undressed?" His voice came out strained and embarrassed.

“Don’t you like me?” Mo Ran intentionally made his hand glide languidly from his own
chest lower, to his semi-hard cock. “Do you really want me to cover up?”

Chu Wanning’s swollen lips trembled. It was obvious he was hesitating.

"You have a beautiful body," he admitted softly. "I'm not blind. I noticed you that very
evening when you were choosing a costume for your first performance."

His confession was so hushed that it seemed he himself was embarrassed by his words.

Mo Ran was struck by surprise. He hadn't realized that Wanning had paid any real attention
to him back then.
"Then why did you avoid me?" His voice was cautious as if he feared disturbing the delicate
balance that finally was forming between them.

"Why wouldn’t I?" Chu Wanning spurted. "You were so arrogant, and on top of that, you
were spending all your time with Shi Mei. And your dances were… how should I put it…"

His response brought a sense of relief to Mo Ran. He had been so afraid Wanning would find
him unattractive, that the realization that the man was just a bit jealous made him chuckle.

"This isn't funny!" Chu Wanning snapped, offended. Once again he tried to free himself.

“You were trying to say something about my dances," Mo Ran continued to chuckle.

"They were provocative!"

"Did it never occur to you that maybe I just wanted to get your attention?" Mo Ran inquired.
Chu Wanning fell silent, so he continued, "I got a job at your club just to get a chance to
know you. I saw your performance, and I was so taken by you that I decided to find a way to
get backstage."

"It’s hard to believe," Chu Wanning shook his head in confusion. "Besides, do you
understand that I have nothing to do with my stage persona? Maybe you liked my dance, but
you have no idea who I really am, so what was the point in going to such lengths just to see
me?"

"Were there any other options?" Mo Ran's question was met with puzzled silence.

"Chu Wanning," Mo Ran cupped the man's chin in his palms, preventing him from turning
away, "We didn't start off well, and perhaps you're right that I know too little about you. But
do you know anyone else who would readily pay for their employee’s private dance so that
they won’t get into trouble? The way you distanced yourself from the club's affairs made me
set this up for you, but I was sure you won’t let me dance for someone drunk. I had to do it
because I knew you, and I wanted you to give me a chance."

Chu Wanning still wouldn't look at him, and the silence seemed to stretch to the point of
being complete.

Mo Ran sighed. The only thing that was now left to him was to release Wanning. Holding
him against his will wasn’t an option now since he already had a chance to say everything he
wanted. Mo Ran made his confessions, and if his words hadn’t managed to change anything,
so be it. He finally loosened the belt that bound Wanning’s wrists and cautiously leaned back
to give Wanning some space.

"Mo Ran..." Chu Wanning called out, looking utterly confused. Their eyes met.

Chu Wanning’s dark irises seemed to swallow all the light. His reddened face no longer
showed any signs of being scared — rather, he seemed embarrassed.

"Even after you got to know me better — and you saw me as I am, without masks and
costumes… do I still hold any interest to you?" he asked.
Mo Ran, who had no idea how Wanning would take his confession, was stunned.

For several seconds, he continued to gaze at the man with a complex expression. Then,
regaining his composure, he answered the question in the only way he knew.

Their bodies intertwined on the couch, as their breath mingled. Mo Ran’s lips were burning,
and his teeth were hurting from awkward attempts to bite Wanning. The heat of Wanning’s
skin and the friction of their hips made him so hot that Mo Ran no longer could restrain
himself. Wanning’s shirt was already gaping open, so to tried to pull off Wanning’s trousers,
while his mouth was still busy covering his skin with greedy, hungry kisses. The fabric
ripped, as Mo Ran pulled at it. His ears were filled with soundless gasps. His hands and
mouth were everywhere at the same time, brushing on the inner thighs and caressing the
sharp knees, kneading the buttocks. At the same time, he felt the fleeting caress of Wanning’s
fingers as they slid down his spine in slow motion, and the biting sensation of his short nails
digging into his skin when he finally placed his mouth between Wanning’s legs.

Mo Ran still couldn’t believe that all of this was really happening — it was as if the thick
wall that separated him from Wanning before had finally developed a crack and suddenly
crumbled, leaving them both exposed. Both of them weren’t ready in the least, and that made
Mo Ran feel utterly vulnerable as if he had suddenly lost any control. It wasn’t clear if he and
Wanning could have any future together, but in this moment nothing mattered to him more
than the extase of dissolving into an intense desire, that rode them both so hard. Even the fear
that this was going to end in the morning wasn’t able to stop him. Somehow, the bitter
thought that Wanning was going to leave anyway only made his blood run hotter. No matter
how hard he tried to leave his mark on the man's skin, he still couldn't touch his heart, and
that thought haunted him, making him crazy. No matter what he did — it wasn’t enough.

He wanted Chu Wanning to experience at least a fraction of what he felt toward him.

“Please…” Chu Wanning gasped as he was lying spread among the pillows, greedily gasping
for air. “Ah… please…” his hips squeezed Mo Ran’s waist, wrapping around it like a vise.

Still not sure if Wanning really understood what he was asking for, Mo Ran continued to
stretch him with his fingers from the inside, penetrating deeper. He used the scented massage
oil he found on the table as a lubricant but poured so much of it that now they both were
covered in it, and his fingers were so sticky the liquid was dripping everywhere.

Mo Ran’s cock brushed at Wanning’s stomach, pulsing with longing painfully.

Mo Ran lifted Wanning’s hips, slowly adjusting. His gaze settled on Wanning’s reddened
eyes — the man looked at him from under the tousled locks of dark hair with a slightly
clouded gaze, covering his mouth with his palm to prevent himself from gasping aloud.

Mo Ran leaned down, gently moving Wanning's hand to the side, covering the man's lips
with his own, drawing him into a long, exhausting kiss, from which both he and Wanning
soon lost their minds. Their hearts beat so fast when their bodies finally merged into one, that
soon they both were on the verge of total sensual oblivion.
***

...Later, as dawn approached, Mo Ran still held Chu Wanning close to him. They cuddled on
a tiny leather sofa that was too small to let them separate in their sleep. At some point, Chu
Wanning started to feel cold and even nuzzled Mo Ran’s cheek, still asleep — and Mo Ran
woke up to the sense of this subtle movement.

Probably he was supposed to wake up Wanning as well now that the night was over —
wasn’t Wanning supposed to be in a hurry to catch his morning flight?

The thought that everything might end for them just like this made Mo Ran’s heart drop.

He gazed at Wanning for so long that at some point his eyes started to hurt. He tried to
memorize every feature, from the arch of dark eyebrows to the smooth profile and the
slightly downturned corners of the small mouth.

While performing, Chu Wanning had always concealed his face, resorting to veils and
various thin scarves. Even yesterday, he had been wearing a mask, as if subconsciously trying
to hide, feeling discomfort at the thought of being watched by others.

Seeing him so relaxed and trusting in his sleep with his delicate face fully exposed made Mo
Ran’s heart melt.

Yesterday, when they made love, he had noticed for the first time how dark Wanning’s eyes
were, and how his hair curled in a funny way when it was becoming moist. He finally
discerned the alabaster undertone of Wanning’s skin that had been barely noticeable all this
time — and he could even trace the pointed cheekbones, marking every detail, and inhale the
scent of his skin, soaking in it.

Later, as Wanning drifted off to sleep, Mo Ran realized that this must be how people fall in
love: they start to notice and adorn the small things, like someone’s expression and tone of
voice, the scent of their hair, a particular shade of someone’s eye color or the curve of
someone’s mouth. Details that somehow often go unnoticed become distinctive and
endearing. They start to be something you'll yearn for with an unexplained passion. And
you’ll miss these things even in the moments you're together.

Mo Ran wasn’t in love with Chu Wanning when he first saw him on stage — and he still
didn't love him, even after discovering who had been hiding beneath the veils all this time.

It was more like an obsession, a desire, or an admiration — but not love.

He realized he was in love only now when he suddenly found out what kind of person Chu
Wanning was.

Fragile.

Delicate.
Living in a world of his own desires and fears.

Mo Ran had to admit to himself that he had watched Wanning on stage for so long, but only
now was able to see him clearly.

When Chu Wanning was sound asleep like this, unaware of how Mo Ran feared losing him,
yet trusting him fully to let him go when the time comes — he was safe within Mo Ran’s
arms, and he filled Mo Ran’s heart with so much love that Mo Ran was afraid he’d drown in
it.

"Wanning..." Mo Ran whispered the name of his beloved, realizing that dawn was already
breaking. "Baobei, it's morning. You'll miss your flight..."

The last words carried bitterness, scratching his throat.

He loved Wanning, so he had to let him go.

There was no other option for him to show how much he cared for his man.

Chu Wanning sleepily rubbed his nose against Mo Ran's neck, making an indecipherable
noise.

"Wanning..." Mo Ran tried to wake him again, this time by gently stroking Wanning’s ear.
"Your flight..."

"My flight?.. Where?.." Wanning's breath tickled Mo Ran's ear. "I thought I canceled my
ticket yesterday..."

He nestled into Mo Ran's arms once again, pressing close to him, as if trying to delay waking
up, prolonging the blissful sleep.

Mo Ran hugged him tighter, exhaling slowly.

"Then go to sleep, baobei. It's still very early."

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