Kiss you at Sunset (BL) - Chapter 5

After Tan Cui and He Lingling finished sending a bunch of rose-themed greeting stickers in the group chat, Yang Jin was the first to reply—with a single question mark.

Zhou Shiluo guessed that the two ladies must have called him first, then created the group chat, but hadn’t gotten around to notifying Yang Jin yet.

Sure enough, after Yang Jin sent the question mark, He Lingling followed up with a long voice message.

Zhou Shiluo didn’t quite understand why, but he was curious to hear how He Lingling would explain the situation to Yang Jin, as well as how Yang Jin would react.

He Lingling briefly introduced the members of the group, then added, “Stop messing around all the time and listen to your brother, okay? Don’t you remember how close you two were as kids?”

Zhou Shiluo frowned. He really couldn’t understand why parents always loved to bring up childhood memories over and over again.

If he was already annoyed, Yang Jin must be even more irritated.

After sending that question mark, Yang Jin went silent. Remembering his short temper earlier that day, Zhou Shiluo figured he must have had enough of it.

He clicked on Yang Jin’s profile picture to check his posts, hoping to find a clue about when his personality had changed. However, he was immediately blocked by a message: “Only the last ten posts are visible to non-friends.”

Zhou Shiluo had Yang Jin’s WeChat before. But after that unexpected incident two years ago, he had deleted all of Yang Jin’s contact information.

He didn’t remember much about what had happened that night, and with two years having passed, he had already come to terms with it. After all, they were both drunk that night. If anyone were to be blamed, it would be the alcohol that dulled their senses and disconnected their bodies from their brains.

The real reason he had been so furious, though, was because, in that situation, he had been on the receiving end.

At the time, he had only thought about himself. It wasn’t until he met Yang Jin again that he realized something—if he flipped the perspective, Yang Jin wasn’t exactly in a great situation either. A straight guy, sleeping with another man out of nowhere—he must have been just as frustrated. So today, when Yang Jin showed him nothing but open hostility, it all made sense.

Two years later, after thinking it through on his own, Zhou Shiluo felt like he had found an answer. He reopened the group chat, planning to add Yang Jin back on WeChat. But just as he decided to let bygones be bygones, Yang Jin doused him with cold water.

The four-person group chat had once again become a three-person chat—Yang Jin had left.

For the next few days, Zhou Shiluo went about his routine as usual, attending classes, staying home to write his thesis, and occasionally receiving calls from Ms. Tan Cui. Every time, the conversation would inevitably drift toward Yang Jin.

Zhou Shiluo found it puzzling. Tan Cui had lived away from her hometown for years, barely met Yang Jin in person, and had even lost contact with her old friend, He Lingling, after marriage. In the past, people had asked her for favors because of his position as an art professor, but she had always brushed them off with polite smiles. So why was she so invested in this particular case?

Jokingly, Zhou Shiluo teased, “Comrade Tan, be honest with me—Yang Jin isn’t your secret illegitimate child, is he? Did you secretly send him to your friend in the countryside to raise?”

On the other end of the call, Tan Cui chuckled. Then, in a serious tone, she said, “Little Yang is indeed my son.”

Zhou Shiluo’s smile froze, and he almost dropped his phone. He knew she was probably joking, but his brain still took a moment to process it.

Hearing his silence, Tan Cui laughed again and finally explained, “I’ve decided to make Xiao Jin my godson.”

Then she instructed him, “From now on, he’s your little brother. Since you’re both in the capital, you, as the big brother, need to take care of him.”

Zhou Shiluo slowly snapped back to reality, feeling relieved but also heavy-hearted. Thinking of Yang Jin’s attitude, he asked seriously, “Does Yang Jin know about this?”

“Of course! He called me just the other day and even called me ‘godmother,’” Tan Cui said, her voice barely muffled by the background noise.

At the mention of “godmother,” she sighed, “It was a bit sudden, so I didn’t have time to prepare a gift. I just sent him a red envelope. Xiao Luo, if you have time, take Xiao Jin out for a meal and say a few good words for me. Make sure he doesn’t overthink things.”

Zhou Shiluo wanted to say, He’s not overthinking things—he just doesn’t like me.

After ending the conversation, Zhou Shiluo put down his work and leaned back in his chair. For the first time in a while, he opened the group chat, which had been buried at the bottom of his chat list.

After Yang Jin left, Zhou Shiluo couldn’t just leave the two elders hanging, so he simply muted the group.

He had no idea what had happened since then.

As he scrolled through the chat history, he found that soon after Yang Jin left, He Lingling dragged him back in—only to scold him relentlessly until he didn’t dare to leave again.

Seeing this, Zhou Shiluo subconsciously smirked. For some reason, he felt a little better.

Thinking it was about time to acknowledge his newfound “god-brother” and save himself from more nagging calls from his mom, he decided to take Yang Jin out for a meal.

He tried adding Yang Jin through the group chat, but the request was rejected.

Zhou Shiluo cursed under his breath. Fortunately, he still had Yang Jin’s number from Liu Linshen. He opened his contacts and dialed.
No one answered.
Just as he was about to give up, he suddenly heard some background noise, followed by a flat, emotionless greeting: “Hello.”
Zhou Shiluo sat up straight and got to the point. “It’s me, Zhou Shi—”
Before he could finish saying his name, the call ended.
He stared at the screen, dumbfounded. Did this bastard just hang up on me?
He took a deep breath, collected himself, and called again.
This time, Yang Jin didn’t even bother picking up.
Zhou Shiluo wasn’t someone who lacked a temper, but he wasn’t about to let Yang Jin get the last word. Stubbornly, he called again and again.
On the fourth attempt, the call was finally answered. But before he could scold Yang Jin, another unfamiliar voice spoke first.
“Yang Jin isn’t here. Call back later.”
Zhou Shiluo frowned. He really pulled this trick now? Last time, he pretended not to know me. This time, he’s pretending not to be there?
He asked, “Where is he?”
“Taking a piss,” the guy answered casually.
Just then, a familiar voice rang out in the background. Zhou Shiluo immediately recognized Yang Jin.
“Feng Jiayang, why do you have my phone?”
A dull thud followed, like the phone being slammed onto a table.
“Maybe don’t leave it behind next time? It’s been ringing non-stop,” the other guy complained.
A few seconds later, Yang Jin picked up again. His tone was light, almost mocking.
“Professor Zhou? You’re so persistent. What do you need from me?”
Zhou Shiluo hated that tone—he would’ve preferred cold indifference over sarcasm.

“Can you talk right now?” he asked.

Yang Jin chuckled. “Nope.”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking. What else?”

Zhou Shiluo’s lips twitched. “Are you even healed yet?”

“Not dead yet,” Yang Jin replied, laughing. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Wanna join?”

Zhou Shiluo figured he must be drunk already. Hesitating for a moment, he asked for the address.

Half an hour later, he arrived at the location—only to realize it was a gay bar.