Chapter 7: Dressing

Bai Wei sat on the sofa, watching Lucen pull a shirt, jacket, tie, trousers, and socks one by one out of the shopping bag. The pink-and-black gift bag was carelessly tossed aside by Lucen. Bai Wei’s forehead veins tensed at the sight, but he couldn’t afford to miss any of Lucen’s actions, so he suppressed his compulsive urge and kept his gaze fixed on him. Lucen, meanwhile, fiddled with his phone as he handled the clothes, occasionally sneaking glances at Bai Wei.

“What are you doing on your phone?” Bai Wei’s sensitivity was acute.

“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m checking whether it’s normal for one spouse to ask the other to change clothes in front of them.”

Ah. Bai Wei forced a smile, suspecting Lucen was mocking him. “I think it’s perfectly normal.”

“Really?” Lucen was surprised, closing the browser filled with searches for “sexual arousal” and “romantic interest.” He felt he’d learned something new. “Alright then, I’ll undress for you every day from now on.”

Bai Wei: “…No need for that.”

He barely managed to keep his composure.

Annoyed, Bai Wei rubbed his temples, thinking that if it weren’t for that bag of expired “flower fertilizer,” he wouldn’t have to play this game with Lucen. But when Lucen began taking off his sweater jacket, Bai Wei immediately stood up. “Leave your changed clothes with me. I’ll put them in the washing machine later.”

He casually felt the jacket pockets and naturally pulled out a few receipts. This gave him a legitimate excuse to search Lucen’s pockets. But there was nothing Bai Wei needed in the jacket. Clearly, what he sought was in Lucen’s trousers. As he continued to observe, Lucen’s upper body was already stripped clean.

Before he left Black Harbor City, Bai Wei had always kept up an exercise routine. His muscles were not exaggerated—a thin layer sufficed, and they sculpted his broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted figure beautifully. In the gym, many men had shown their interest in him. They liked to flaunt their muscles, even standing on the treadmill next to Bai Wei to play childish, one-sided competitions and displays.

Bai Wei appreciated muscle definition as a form of artistic beauty. He understood architecture, had studied sketching and anatomy. Human muscles were like perfectly assembled marble, a subject beloved by artists throughout history. The direction of muscles guided the surgeon’s knife in anatomy—where to apply force, where to follow the grain.

Sometimes, appreciation for the human body was no different from appreciation for a steak. The marbling in red meat brings to mind the aroma of melting fat in the mouth, its scattered patterns like snow in a forest. Thus, human muscles and tendons deserve similar admiration, Bai Wei believed.

But Lucen’s muscle lines were perfect—the eternal subject of sculptors everywhere, strong and beautiful. For the first time, Bai Wei was so focused on observing that he was momentarily stunned. Powerful, like marble, like a Roman pillar, like a leopard poised to spring.

—Did a car mechanic, a “finance guy,” need muscles like these?

The inner shirt was discarded nearby, clearly without keys inside. As Bai Wei stooped to pick it up, he heard Lucen’s rough voice, “Do I need to change my trousers too?”

“Yes, change them,” Bai Wei replied.

Even with his strong sense of purpose, Bai Wei couldn’t help but turn his face slightly as Lucen changed trousers… Not because of any reaction, but simply because their proximity felt too close.

Bai Wei was certain about one thing: he would never have any physical response to Lucen. At fifteen, he’d discovered he was different. While his peers became curious about the bodies of the opposite or same sex and began consuming related materials, Bai Wei found himself unmoved by either gender.

Instead, he developed an almost pathological need for cleanliness and death. He’d heard a rumor then—a spoiled rich kid, notorious for racing near their school and even maiming a student, had died. Bai Wei had always disliked him; his motorcycle disturbed the quiet evenings with explosive sounds, its exhaust spewing dirty black fumes.

But that night, Bai Wei happened to pass by the scene of the death. The red-black stains had already been cleaned. Lying on his bed, he recalled that patch of ground, imagining the motorcycle’s destruction, the doctors carrying away the body, the cleaners scrubbing the pavement. In that moment, he felt a strong excitement, followed by peace and happiness.

Afterward, Bai Wei realized he was different from others. He told doctors he was asexual, but concealed his deviant inclinations. When his grandfather arranged a match with Lucen, Bai Wei felt a visceral resistance. He couldn’t imagine intimacy, marriage, or even sex and children with a stranger… When he saw his prospective match was a man, Bai Wei was even more confused.

But perhaps this was better than marrying a woman and likely having a child. For example, now, he only needed to get rid of Lucen, and the “family” would fall apart.

Fortunately, nothing happened between them after marriage. Lucen seemed content with merely being married, and Bai Wei thought that was just as well. After all, Lucen was a dead man. Sometimes, a living husband was even more troublesome than a dead one.

But now, their distance… felt a little too close.

Maybe it was the closeness. Bai Wei, for once, noticed Lucen’s scent wasn’t as unbearable as he’d imagined. He recalled summer beaches; at night, the sea would turn warm. That must have been long ago, when his mother was still alive, and his father had not yet become a coward bound to his surname. The three of them on the beach, sunlight drifting in the waves, wind carrying every white gull far away.

Bai Wei was briefly dazed by that illusory warmth. The next moment, he felt miserable—he was still in a “family,” but it was nothing like the one beautified in his memory. This irresponsibly formed household included himself, Lucen, a car and a house imitating the shape of home, less comforting than the water by the shore. He had to correct this mistake.

Bai Wei couldn’t realize that more than anything, he simply didn’t want to continue living like this. He supposed he truly despised Lucen.

Lucen tossed the trousers to Bai Wei. Bai Wei quickly fished out two sets of keys from the pockets—one familiar ring with the home and car keys, each recognizable in its function. The other was unfamiliar, a single lonely key.

Bai Wei felt he’d found what he was looking for. Lucen was out of places to hide keys—he’d glanced earlier, and Lucen’s final shorts were tight, clearly without pockets. The size made Bai Wei look away quickly.

He looked up.

“What are you doing!!”

Bai Wei rarely raised his voice. When Lucen faced him directly, Bai Wei quickly turned his head aside. “Don’t point that thing at me!”

“Oh, you don’t want to see it? I thought its shape wasn’t bad.” Lucen’s response made him feel guilty. When mimicking humans, he’d always chosen the most favored appearance, but apparently it didn’t appeal to Bai Wei. He felt like a programmer wearing an ugly plaid shirt to a Michelin dinner, embarrassed that his accessory wasn’t good enough for his wife.

Lucen’s answer caught Bai Wei completely off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. “That’s awful.”

Lucen suddenly felt a sense of urgency, like an assistant unsure what was wrong with his proposal, desperately wanting to know how to satisfy the client. Unlike most employees, Lucen genuinely loved the client and the job. Not knowing what to fix, he lowered his gaze, trying to persuade Bai Wei to accept his solution. “Right now, it doesn’t have much shape. But you can see it when it’s lively—it’ll have a form then.”

Perhaps that would please Bai Wei. Lucen wanted him to know that mimicking was like molding clay, and he’d done a decent job with his “clay.” Maybe this was craftsmanship—Lucen recalled reading about it in some magazine. He was proud to have mastered another human phrase so quickly.

—If only Bai Wei knew that he’d just become human and already learned so many human words. That would make Lucen so happy and proud! But Lucen knew he must never let Bai Wei find out, lest he discover Lucen was a monster.

Thinking this, Lucen felt wise. Before coming home, he’d hidden the cellar key under his shoe insole. He would never let Bai Wei into that cellar.

Bai Wei could hardly believe his ears. His upbringing made it impossible to imagine such words, much less understand Lucen’s logic.

Was Lucen harassing him? How could Lucen say such things to him? How could Lucen still… dangle in front of him?

“Shut up.” Bai Wei knew his ears were burning red, his face hot, his voice stammering, “Don’t—don’t say things like that to me!”

Lucen was still studying himself, wanting to demonstrate his product to Bai Wei firsthand. “Actually, I’m not very familiar with my physiological functions. I remember it was quite lively this morning. But now… Hmm, though I recall when you were holding my clothes and looking at me, I also felt a bit…”

Bai Wei was nearly screaming, but he clutched Lucen’s trousers (and the keys inside) tightly. “Put your shorts on first!”

Lucen thought of that workplace drama—he felt like a programmer presenting his demo under everyone’s gaze, but just loading the configuration had taken over ten minutes. Clearly inappropriate and exhausting the reviewer’s patience. Lucen understood that next time, he should have everything loaded before showing it to Bai Wei. That was how things should be…

“Go to the dressing room to change!”

Lucen gathered up the new clothes scattered across the floor and rushed into the dressing room. As he closed the door, Bai Wei retrieved two bars of soap from the cabinet. He pressed the unfamiliar key into the first bar, and the repair shop key into the second.

With everything tidied up, Bai Wei finally faced the bedroom. Wrapping paper and bags littered the floor, Lucen’s old clothes were strewn everywhere. Bai Wei’s compulsive disorder flared up. He squatted to put the paper bags aside, tossed wrapping paper into the trash. Passing the pink-and-black bag, he frowned, extracting its contents and preparing to fold them one by one.

?

…?

“Bells, black veils, stockings… Darling, are these for you?” Lucen inquired from behind him.