Are All You Straight Guys Like This Chapter 103

New Zealand was located in the southern hemisphere with a distinct temperate maritime climate. Scenery beautiful, weather pleasant.

Before boarding the plane, Ye Ran had still been wearing a padded coat and long pants. When he stepped off the plane, a warm wave of air hit him. He immediately broke into a sweat, took off the coat, and wearing only a simple white inner shirt, walked curiously out of the arrival gate.

It was his first time in the southern hemisphere.

The airport was filled with languages from everywhere, yet it wasn’t as crowded as he had imagined. New Zealand valued slow living. The airport echoed with soothing piano music, unconsciously relaxing Ye Ran after a full day of travel.

Only now did he belatedly begin to feel nervous.

This trip had been completely impulsive. He hadn’t even told Father Shen or mother beforehand, unsure whether he could even leave Beijing. Now, calling them to ask their location, he feared they would be upset.

Holding his phone anxiously, he followed the flow of people out of the arrival hall.

Just as he stepped out, a familiar woman’s voice drifted to his ears: “Ranran?”

He looked up and saw Father Shen and Mother Shen waiting side-by-side for him. Mother Shen held a bag with a familiar logo indicating it carried new seasonal items. After more than a month apart, she wore a white qipao, her hair neatly pinned up. Eyes misty, she hurried toward him and pulled him into a tight hug.

“You child… Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? And wearing something so thick, aren’t you hot? Come, Auntie will take you home first. After you change clothes, we’ll go see your father.”

All the questions he wanted to ask instantly vanished. Ye Ran froze, and only after a long time managed to find his voice.

“Go see… my dad?”

“Yes.” Mother Shen wiped her tears, looking at him with relief. “Ranran… your father woke up.”

…

Ye Ran didn’t know what Shen Shi had told Shen’s parents about his sneaking away, nor how he explained it. But he couldn’t wait even a second longer. Still in long sleeves and pants, he rushed toward the convalescent home where his father was staying.

The building stood by the sea, scenery tranquil and beautiful.

The coastline stretched endlessly into the horizon. The blue ocean was clear and shimmering, like a mirror reflecting sky and clouds, ethereal like a fairyland.

Ye Ran’s mind was slow to process. On the way, various voices buzzed in his ears. Mother Shen watched him with concern, while Father Shen spoke on the phone with Shen Shi beside him.

Disheveled, clutching his coat, he stood in the long corridor and heard a nurse speaking with the attending physician.

The elderly doctor, close to fifty, had a gentle expression. The white hair at his temples showed his age. He spoke slowly in English, making downward calming motions with both hands in front of Ye Ran: “Hey, kid, breathe with me… deep breath… that’s it, slowly let it out…”

But the suffocating weight on his chest didn’t ease much.

Ye Ran didn’t know how strange he must have seemed for Shen’s parents to insist he see the doctor first before seeing his father. His head buzzed messily; he couldn’t think. The bright fluorescent lights dotted the corridor, and he felt like this road had no end.

Time passed painfully slow. He tried hard to appear normal.

But the doctor’s face took on deep helplessness. Turning to Mother Shen, he said: “Mrs. Shen, I must tell you, the family member’s emotional fluctuation is too intense. If he’s also just undergone long-distance travel, then it’s best for him to wait until his condition stabilizes before visiting the patient. Otherwise, fainting or similar episodes may occur.”

“…You know, the patient needs rest. Letting them meet now would be too much stimulation for both sides…”

His sharp ears caught those few words.

Ye Ran instantly lifted his head and stared at the doctor. He forced his throat, unable to produce any sound, to move. He wanted to speak, but his voice felt blocked by sand and gravel. Moisture spread in his eyes; his throat was so choked he couldn’t force out a single word.

It had been too long.

Father Ye had been in a coma for far too long.

So long that Ye Ran had woken from nightmares countless times, feeling as if everything around him mirrored the days before his mother passed away.

“…Ranran? Ranran!” Mother Shen’s anxious voice rang out. Her pinned-up hair had come loose, messy at her shoulders. She stared at Ye Ran, rubbing his arm, saying something he couldn’t quite hear.

Father Shen pushed through the crowd. In the shifting blur of overlapping silhouettes, a face suddenly appeared in Ye Ran’s vision, Shen Shi.

A deep-autumn night in November, in Kyoto.

Shen Shi leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, bright light filling the office behind him. He sat in his chair, his gaze calm and deep. His low voice pierced through the haze clouding Ye Ran’s mind and called him back: “Ranran.”

“Calm down.”

Those deep black eyes reflected Ye Ran’s pale, bloodless face. Shen Shi’s expression gradually softened, and he said quietly, “Go see Uncle Ye. He must want to see you too.”

The suffocating weight pressing against Ye Ran’s chest seemed, in that moment, gently smoothed.

Ye Ran stared blankly for a long while. Tears slipped from the tips of his lashes. His vision blurred. He rushed out a nod and said, “…Okay.”

Father Shen took his phone. Then he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, his expression showing emotions he could no longer suppress. After exchanging a look with Mother Shen, he headed toward the smoking room.

Led by Mother Shen, Ye Ran walked step by step toward the treatment room at the end of the hallway.

Inside, the ventilation fan hummed, sending in fresh air.

On the large bed, a figure lay motionless. Monitors at the head and foot of the bed tracked his heartbeat and pulse. The doctors and nurses quietly exited the room.

Ye Ran stood beside the bed, looking at his father, so thin he seemed like he would shatter at a touch.

In the past twenty-plus years, Father Ye had been silent, stern, rigid. In little Ye Ran’s memories, he always saw Father Ye’s tall, straight back moving through the living room, the company, and the narrow pedestrian paths. And Ye Ran would quietly hold onto the corner of his father’s jacket. From being only as tall as his father’s legs… to slowly growing almost as tall as him.

That giant from his childhood now lay on this pale hospital bed, temples full of white hair, eye sockets sunken, age heavy upon him. Under Ye Ran’s sorrow-clouded gaze, the man seemed to sense something. His eyelids trembled twice before he slowly opened his tired, sluggish eyes.

His vision gradually sharpened.

Tears blurred Ye Ran’s eyes again, falling uncontrollably one by one. He gritted his teeth and heard Father Ye murmur weakly, “…Ranran.”

“…I saw your mother.”

On the empty hospital bed, Father Ye’s bones jutted sharply beneath the striped hospital gown, making him look like a hollow shell.

His eyes were focused on the empty space beside Ye Ran. His tone was slow, as if recalling something old, or as if his mind had been drained of energy. One word at a time, his voice hoarse: “…She asked me how you’ve been.”

“I thought about it for a long time… and realized… these years, you haven’t been doing well at all.”

…

It was a vast, boundless dream.

Time had frozen on Mother Ye, thirty-two years old.

She was still as youthful as a girl, wearing a cotton white dress, quietly sitting under the camphor tree as the wind stirred its leaves. Her gaze was gentle, a poetry book resting on her knees.

A narrow cobblestone path led straight to her.

In that silent, blank world, Father Ye stumbled toward her.

Illness and exhaustion had crushed his spirit. There were countless things he wanted to say to her, but just before he reached her, he stopped, standing only a single step away, separated by years and memory, looking at that figure that would never fade.

Mother Ye smiled at him gently, just like she did at twenty.

“Huaishan.”

He heard her tender voice. She finally opened the poetry book, but inside were not poems of love and rain, but countless photos of little Ye Ran in kindergarten, in school, out on spring outings. His soft, childlike face always held a shy, gentle smile.

Mother Ye raised her gaze from the photos, quietly looked at him, and said: “What I left behind was never the Ye family business.”

“All these years… have you treated our child well?”

He hadn’t.

Those years were like a long, ridiculous dream.

Scenes flashed past in Ye Huaishan’s mind, everything he had done in the first half of his life.

He had loved that child, but countless times, consumed by work, he had neglected him again and again.

He had tried so hard to preserve the last trace of Mother Ye’s presence in the world, yet forgot that what she truly left behind, the most precious treasure, was the continuation of her life.

He had wasted most of his life. That little child who once tugged at his jacket, whom he carried home through countless late nights and tucked into bed, now that child had grown into someone admirable. He had hobbies, a career, a few close friends, and many strangers who praised his creative work… yet none of it seemed to have anything to do with Father Ye.

He had poured too much of his attention into the Ye Corporation. Only now did he realize: the reason he stopped on that dream-path to Mother Ye… was the same reason he could not let go.

…

The hospital room was pale and quiet.

Ye Huaishan’s gaze slowly landed on Ye Ran. Ye Ran took a deep breath, struggling to hold back tears. His eyes were red, lashes wet, looking as disheveled as if he had rushed back from somewhere far away. Time seemed to rewind on him. Father Ye seemed to see once again that terrified boy standing before Mother Ye’s tombstone at the memorial years ago, holding back sobs.

He had made mistakes, outrageous mistakes, over the years.

Otherwise those old men at Ye Corp wouldn’t have dared to bully his child so viciously while he lay unconscious.

Ye Huaishan’s gaze cleared for a fleeting moment. Remembering his conversation with Shen Shi last night, his eyes returned to Ye Ran, now filled with guilt and softness.

Even if he could no longer promise Ye Ran a life without financial worries… as long as he was alive, he would never let Ye Ran be wronged again.

Shen Shi was a good businessman.

Working with him would be best… for Ye Corp, and for Ye Ran.

After Father Ye woke up, Ye Ran remained in New Zealand.

The first week passed in a daze. He was still trapped in memories of his father’s coma, sometimes jolting awake in the middle of the night. Soon after, Shen Shi’s video call would pop up.

On the screen, Ye Ran clutched his blanket, eyes red, silently crying. Shen Shi simply stayed with him, quietly turning pages of proposals or reports while he worked, letting Ye Ran cry as long as he needed.

The rustling of pages, the soft murmur of paper, those sounds gradually lulled Ye Ran into sleep. Holding his blanket, tears still falling, he drifted off. But his emotional state was far better than before Father Ye woke.

The video call would end only when Ye Ran’s phone died or when he woke up the next morning.

Every time, Shen Shi would look at him with a faint, knowing smile. And Ye Ran feeling braver than ever since escaping from under Shen Shi’s watchful eyes had developed a certain delusion. Summed up neatly by An Yu: “No way. That’s it? That’s all Shen Shi is?”

In a video call, An Yu tried to restrain the excitement of hearing that Father Ye had woken. Though he held many grudges against Father Ye, it didn’t mean he hated the man. Hearing he had awoken, An Yu felt relieved for Ye Ran. He knew how unsettled Ye Ran must be. A week later, calculating the time difference, he finally called.

Ye Ran sat on the lawn of the recovery center. In the distance, the sea stretched endlessly. Families pushed wheelchairs along the shore, laughing as they walked.

Here, people didn’t remain in sadness for long. Beautiful views and a peaceful environment helped them grow stronger, regain hope.

“It’s good you’re not in the capital,” An Yu rambled. “You don’t even know, things there are a mess. Cheng Jiaming, that idiot, even dared to show up in front of me. If my dad hadn’t held me back, I would’ve beaten him to death.”

As soon as he said it, his expression changed. But Ye Ran didn’t notice anything strange. After a long pause, he asked blankly, “What happened to Cheng Jiaming?”

“Well, didn’t he, you know, do that thing? His case just went to trial a few days ago.” An Yu laughed awkwardly.

Ye Ran frowned, recalling that day, feeling sick. “He really solicited prostitutes?”

“Yep. Not just prostitution, he even solicited a seventeen-year-old girl. That’s a criminal offense. That whole family is rotten to the core. Good thing you didn’t marry him, or your life would’ve been ruined.”

Something flashed in An Yu’s eyes, anger, but he quickly hid it before Ye Ran could see.

Ye Ran pressed his lips together, unwilling to care about the Cheng family anymore. “They deserve whatever they get. Let the court handle it. I won’t be able to return for a while anyway. I’ll stay in New Zealand with my dad.”

“You’re not coming back for the New Year?”

“No,” Ye Ran nodded. “Not coming back.”

“Fine, then I’ll go find you before or after the holiday. Beijing is freezing. New Zealand looks nice. We’ll go out and have fun!”

Ye Ran smiled. “Okay. Tell me beforehand, I’ll pick you up.”

An Yu laughed happily, chatting half a day about visiting New Zealand. Then seemingly casually, he mentioned the Ye Corporation: “Since Uncle Ye’s awake, maybe you should talk to him about Ye Corp? Have him rein in those shareholders so you don’t have to deal with that mess again when you return.”

“I’ll wait until he’s healthier,” Ye Ran said. He had his own plan. Right now, Father Ye’s health was too fragile. “Did something happen at Ye Corp again?”

He asked casually. But inside, An Yu’s heart tightened. Confirming that Ye Ran truly had been kept in the dark, he smoothly switched the topic several times. After hanging up, agitation finally surged through him.

Even he could sense the recent turmoil within the Ye family.

The eyes of everyone in the capital had once again converged on the Ye Corporation. Though Ye Corp was just a small company, not even enough to fill the gaps between the big corporations, it happened to be linked, through various family ties, to the giant that was the Shen Corporation.

Not long ago, Shen Shi had orchestrated an elaborate “show” in order to dissolve the engagement between the Ye and Cheng families. Anyone smart could see that. Because of this, everyone was cautious at such a delicate moment. What none of them expected was that Shen Shi would actually turn a blind eye to the chaos within the Ye Corporation, allowing those useless wine-sacks and rice-bags to go around begging for favors one moment and selling their shares the next.

An Yu couldn’t make sense of how things were unfolding. The only thing he understood was that, without someone to take the lead, the Ye Corporation really was going to end up bankrupt and liquidated.

By then, Ye Ran and Father Ye would be drowning in debt, not to mention the countless consequences that would follow. How would they go on with their lives?

He wanted to give Ye Ran a reminder, but looking at the carefree smile on the video call… then recalling Shen Shi’s calm yet chilling warning at the banquet a few days prior… inexplicably, he suppressed the impulse to act on his own.

His intuition told him… that telling Ye Ran the truth about the Ye Corporation right now would be the real mistake.

“Ah…”

An Yu sighed heavily, tossed his phone aside, and decided to wait a little longer.

That “little longer” turned into nearly a month.

A month meant little to Father Ye, recuperating in New Zealand, it only increased his daily hours of lucidity from three or four to seven or eight. But to the Ye Corporation, trembling in turmoil in the capital, a month was enough to push it fully to the brink of bankruptcy.

When Ye Ran received the call from one of the original Ye shareholders, he was stunned. Only when the caller identified himself did his expression slowly cool.

With Shen Shi’s guidance the last few weeks, he had gradually understood: the reason these shareholders were scrambling to find him to “hold up” the Ye Corporation was because, if the company really did go under, they wanted him to take the blame, to be the scapegoat for all the failed decisions.

It was laughable, but it was the truth. These uncles, who had watched him grow up, men he called Uncle Zhang, Uncle Sun, at the moment Ye Huaishan collapsed, the first thing they thought of wasn’t his well-being, but their own interests.

On the phone, Zhang Minghai’s voice was tense and anxious. He had been Father Ye’s closest friend. Before Mother Ye passed away, she had personally acknowledged him, his abilities were not inferior to hers.

He was also the mastermind behind forcing Sun Guohai to check in on Father Ye’s situation after Father Ye was hospitalized.

Now Sun Guohai was already in prison, and the once-thriving Ye Corporation had fallen back to square one. Zhang Minghai had a suspicion in his heart, and he had come specifically to test Ye Ran: “Ranran, why did you run off to New Zealand? Ye Corporation can’t function without you. I know you’re close with the Shen family, but in the end, we’re two different families. Since you’re not here, they won’t go all-out to help us.”

“Uncle Zhang, Ye Corporation is Ye Corporation. The Shen Corporation is the Shen Corporation. If they help, that’s kindness. If they don’t, that’s their right. The Shen family has already helped us once, that was an exception. Don’t be greedy,” Ye Ran said bluntly.

Caught off guard, Zhang Minghai choked. After suppressing himself repeatedly, he forced a laugh: “You kid… your temper’s getting worse. You know how much effort I put in to keep the Ye Corporation afloat back then. I’m at the end of my life, you young ones still have many years ahead. If the Ye Corporation collapses, what will you do?”

Ye Ran found his words strange, and irritating.

Before he left, the Ye Corporation was doing fine. How had everything collapsed the moment he was gone? He subconsciously thought of Shen Shi… and the scene he’d witnessed in the company that day.

His fingers curled slightly. Ye Ran didn’t want to waste breath on these people. He said flatly, “Then let it go bankrupt. I can support myself.”

He hung up decisively. Zhang Minghai apparently never expected him to say that, and a few minutes later, sent a long string of messages.

Zhang Minghai: 【Ranran, you really don’t know the cost of running a household until you’re the one doing it. Your father still hasn’t woken up and is receiving treatment in New Zealand. Do you know how much the nursing home costs per day? Have you calculated the cost of the medication? The therapy? The rehabilitation afterward?】

【If the Ye Corporation collapses, how will you cover those expenses?】

Ye Ran stared at his phone in silence for a long time.

After a moment, he pulled out his bank card and checked the balance.

He didn’t have any extravagant hobbies and rarely spent money. The fees at the nursing home had been paid from Father Ye’s account. Father Ye had dedicated himself to the Ye Corporation for years, he hadn’t let himself be the sucker. Every cent that belonged to him had been taken, deposited into Ye Ran’s account, invested in funds and financial products.

But arranging the doctors and the nursing home, that had been thanks to Father Shen and Mother Shen. No matter how you looked at it, he still owed them a great deal.

With that in mind, Ye Ran opened WeChat.

The chat with Shen Shi was filled with missed video-call logs.

Annoyance flooded him. He pursed his lips and put the phone away.

A few seconds later, he pulled it out again in frustration, carefully choosing his words before typing out a message.

—Bank account number.

…

By coincidence, his message arrived right during Shen Shi’s lunch break.

Inside the office, leaning tiredly against his chair, Shen Shi heard his phone buzz. The room was warm from the heater; late-autumn sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He picked up his phone. When he saw the sender, his tightly knit brows relaxed. The coldness in his eyes softened as he tapped Ye Ran’s profile.

—Bank account number.

He raised a brow and replied unhurriedly:

—What account number?

Ye Ran: [My bank card number. How much did my father’s treatment cost? I’ll transfer it to you.]

Shen Shi narrowed his eyes. Just from that one sentence, he could see all the hidden meaning beneath it. He dialed an internal number; Xu Wen picked up quickly. “President Shen?”

“Look into the Ye shareholders,” Shen Shi said calmly, though a dark glint slid through his lowered eyes. “If they’re too idle… find something to keep them busy.”

Xu Wen’s eyelid twitched. “Yes, sir!”

When the call ended, Shen Shi suppressed his irritation and reopened the chat. In just a few minutes, Ye Ran had grown anxious and sent several additional messages.

Shen Shi looked at the row of messages, leaned back in his chair, and with a faint smile, dialed Ye Ran for a video call.

One minute later, the call rang out automatically.

Unbothered, he called again.

Another minute later, just before the system could hang up, Ye Ran finally answered.

The screen shook a little; he seemed to have rushed back to his room. Breathless, sitting on the floor, eyebrows drawn, he looked at Shen Shi.

In just a few seconds, Shen Shi had taken in every detail of his room.

He hadn’t turned on the lights. The curtains were open. Today in New Zealand, it was cloudy, heavy clouds pressing low over the vast ocean, waves rolling violently under the sea wind.

Ye Ran sat on the carpet, wearing a loose cotton T-shirt. He must have run hard on the way back; his cheeks were flushed, and his temples damp. “Can’t explain through text?”

Shen Shi stared at him deeply, taking in his entire appearance before his throat worked in a subtle swallow. His voice was warm: “I can’t.”

Ye Ran sat upright. “Then say it now.”

“Before I say it, I have a condition.” Shen Shi looked at him, smiling faintly.

Ye Ran’s eyelids drooped listlessly. He knew this call wasn’t made with good intentions. Still, he said, “What condition? Say it first, I might not agree.”

Shen Shi didn’t get angry. His tone dropped deliberately, his features partly hidden in the shadow cast by the chair’s headrest. His eyes were dark and deep, his lips faintly curved as he slowly asked:

“Are you still wearing the anklet?”

Ye Ran’s eardrums buzzed. He instinctively looked down and curled his toes.

Shen Shi’s voice lightened even further. “Little one… show me.”

Ye Ran’s eyes widened; his ears flushed red, the corners of his eyes tinged with pink. He scolded softly, “What are you talking about!”

The weather was cool today, but New Zealand was still warm. He was wearing shorts, of course he wasn’t wearing the anklet.

And he had thought he’d been clever: coming to New Zealand, removing the anklet… it felt like he was severing some invisible tie to Shen Shi. Hearing those words now, all the intimacy and ambiguous heat of that month surged back violently.

He tried to change the subject, but Shen Shi never let himself be diverted. Dressed in a simple charcoal vest, features sharp, eyes lowered in a lazy shadow, his presence was overwhelming.

“Little one,” Shen Shi lifted his eyes lightly as Ye Ran fumbled through excuses. “You took it off?”

Without waiting for a response, he said simply, “Be good. Put it on.”

“I may be busy but I still have time to fly to New Zealand.”

…

Inside the room, Ye Ran sniffled with reddened eyes, grabbed his phone, and placed it on the nightstand in defeat.

He lowered his gaze, pulled open a drawer, and took out a brocade box. Inside lay three shimmering anklets.

The young man in long, oversized shorts lifted a leg, resting his chin on his knee. Frowning, he picked up the anklets, staring blankly for a moment before finding the clasps.

He bent over. Fine, dark hair slid along his cheek like crow feathers. His pale neck curved elegantly, the tails of his eyes flushed faintly red. Light and shadow stretched long against him as he carefully fastened the anklets like marking himself with a brand named “Shen Shi.”

Shen Shi watched quietly, eyes lowered. The shifting light revealed drifting motes of dust.

He leaned back lazily, expression unreadable, but his dark eyes were thick as ink, swirling with a desire deeper than the storm clouds rolling over New Zealand’s skies.

Only when Ye Ran finished clasping all three anklets, lifted his head with annoyance, and shot him a glance did Shen Shi finally speak, his voice low, hoarse, with a coaxing warmth: “Little one… when are you coming back?”

“…I’m not coming back.”

Ye Ran frowned. Still sitting on the deep-brown carpet, his oversized shorts had slid down a little, revealing pale skin under the shadow.

His ankle, traced with faint blue veins, now adorned with three anklets, vermilion, sapphire, and clear beads catching the light, made the pale skin look even softer and more delicate.

He pressed his lips together. “My dad’s still in rehab. We’ll talk about returning after he’s fully recovered.”

Rehabilitation required persistence. With Father Ye’s condition, he would need at least another half-year in New Zealand.

The later stages could be transferred home, but not the early stages.

Thinking this, Ye Ran relaxed slightly. He looked up at Shen Shi. But the moment he met that deep, shadowed gaze through the screen, he recoiled like he’d been burned. A few seconds passed before he forced down the panic and asked sharply:

“Now can you tell me how much the cost was?”

Shen Shi lowered his gaze, nodded. “I can.”

…Finally, he was going to say it.

Ye Ran perked up, listening.

The next moment, Shen Shi’s voice came through: deep, smooth, and resonant.

“Very expensive.”

“I want a Ranran who comes back to keep me company.”

Author’s note:

D*mn it, let me think through the ending a bit more. I’ll definitely finish it tomorrow.

Everyone, keep warm and don’t catch a cold.