Futility
One evening, Commander Ho invited Lan Bai-Shan over for a chat.
Lan had been somewhat surprised, not expecting the Commander to come forward and make nice with him. He stepped through the Ho Residence’s gates and followed Hsiao-Hu into a wing-room furnished with a daybed, on which Commander Ho, clothed in a black Chinese silk gown, sat lost in his thoughts.
It was warm in the room, yet he had his hands tucked in his sleeves. Upon hearing the other man"s entrance, he finally turned his head and threw a quick glance at Lan, giving him a slow and expressionless nod. "You"ve come."
Lan brought in a waft of cool air. Seeing that Hsiao-Hu has taken is his leave and shut the door, Lan removed his army coat and draped it on the back of a chair by the wall. He made his way to the daybed and sat down.
"Ji-Ch’ing," he said with a smile, "you"re finally talking to me again."
Commander Ho looked at him. Lan"s eyes were crescents in a smile.
Lan"s features were, in fact, quite plain, but they seemed to have a certain hazy warmth. Even to Commander Ho who haboured such profound feelings for him, it was impossible to describe his physical appearances in words. He simply found him pleasant in general, whether he actually was or not.
Commander Ho pointed at the opium tray beside him. "Come over here. Light me a few rounds."
Lan bent down to untie the laces of his leather shoes. Removing the shoes, he got onto the daybed and lay on his side facing Commander Ho, propping himself up on an elbow. With some inexperience, he scooped up a globule of opium paste and held it carefully over the lamp.
"I thought you never touched the stuff," Lan said with a smile. "What made you change your mind tonight?"
Commander Ho pulled over a small pillow and lay down facing Lan. "It’s a pastime."
Lan glanced up and gave him a smile. "You"re this bored?"
Commander Ho"s gaze rested on Lan"s face. The dusk was settling outside, and only a pair of large candles lighted the room. He had electric lights, but electricity itself was hard to come by. In the dim glow, Lan seemed a little more handsome than usual. Engrossed in the burning, Lan"s eyes were downcast, his eyelashes casting two patches of heavy shadows on his cheeks.
As though seeing him for the first time, Commander Ho gazed at Lan infatuatedly, and suddenly reached out to touch his face.
Lan allowed his hand to linger. He made no move to get away and simply smiled.
"Bai-Shan, you have such long lashes."
Lan darted him a look. "You’ve just noticed?"
Commander Ho drew back his hand. He sniffed at his fingers.
After finishing the third globule, Lan pa.s.sed the pipe to Commander Ho. "You don"t have an addiction. This should do."
Commander Ho"s eyes were starting to glaze over. "How do you know I don"t?" he asked quietly.
Lan lay down across from him, his voice gentle as well. "How can I not?"
Commander Ho smiled faintly and fell silent.
The room became an enclosed s.p.a.ce. Endless darkness and cold raged outside, but the room shone bright with candlelight. The coal in the brazier burned with glowing warmth, making the scent of opium grow all the sweeter.
All around, silence persisted except for the gurgling sound of the opium pipe. Commander Ho breathed in his last draw, then abruptly, rising a bit, he blew a puff of smoke in Lan"s face.
Staring at Commander Ho, Lan suddenly found himself almost hypnotized; the man before his eyes seemed unreal. Behind the candlelit fog and with his fair skin and inky hair, Commander Ho seemed to have walked out of the most meticulous Chinese ink painting, a dab of rouge forming a smiling pair of rosy lips.
Pushing away the opium tray in silence, Commander Ho inched closer to Lan wordlessly, grasping his shoulders and pushing him down onto the bed. He pressed his own body on top of Lan"s, then allowing no protests, lowered his head and covered Lan"s lips with his own.
Lan"s body stiffened—Commander Ho"s actions went far beyond his expectations. Dubious intimacy was one thing. Why would he require this kind of unabashed physical contact?
He opened his lips slightly, and felt Commander Ho"s tongue teasing and pursuing him in his mouth like a frisky fish. He should respond, or he"d seem too cold. But to share a wet kiss with another man...
Hesitantly, Lan reached out and returned the embrace. In the warm and confined room, anything could happen. Reaching a hand downward, Commander Ho started to untied Lan"s belt.
Lan caught his hand, turning his face away to evade Commander Ho"s kiss. "Ji-Ch’ing, don"t do this.
Light shone in Commander Ho"s eyes. "No," he said with great clarity.
Lan couldn"t outright fight him, and Commander Ho proceeded with unhurried resolution. Breaking free from Lan"s hand, he removed the leather military belt around Lan"s waist methodically. He ignored Lan"s reserved struggling and pulled down Lan’s trousers by force.
Lan"s skin had a sleek tan, his hips and thighs were firm yet lithe. Commander Ho placed a hand between his legs, rubbing a few times along his inner thighs, and then closed his fingers around Lan"s flaccid member.
After a few tugs, the shaft began to show signs of interest. Thrusting a leg out, Lan begged breathlessly. "Ji-Ch’ing, sto—stop playing. Let go of me, please."
Upon hearing these words, Commander Ho, as if having received some sudden stimulation, became highly excited. In a flurry of movements, he removed his own trousers and seized Lan"s arm. "Turn around and get down, quick!" he said urgently.
Realizing that the Commander was going to act in earnest, Lan couldn"t sit by and await his doom any longer. He did turn around—and started to crawl away.
Lan"s disobedience was no surprise to Commander Ho, who launched forward at once and pinned Lan under him. Lan couldn"t exactly scream for help, so he put out a desperate fight. But perhaps it was the effects of opium, Commander Ho had gained a sudden and enormous strength. Lan was not a trained soldier; he neither had any combat training nor dared to outright attack Commander Ho, so after a careless moment, he found himself pinned under the Commander"s body, and immediately felt a burning hardness shove its way between his legs.
His heart sank. "Ji-Ch’ing, please let me go," he begged in a shaking voice.
Commander Ho clung to Lan, clearly without any intention of letting go of him.
Lan sucked in a breath. He felt the other man"s c.o.c.k give a couple of mindless thrusts in the crack of his b.u.t.tocks, then without entering, emitted a stream of heat. Commander Ho seemed to spasm slightly above him, his arms around Lan tightening.
They both went still.
A moment later, Commander Ho released Lan and rolled over in exhaustion. Lan reached a hand to his backside and touched a cold stickiness, feeling both disgusted and ridiculous.
"This is all you"ve got, and you wanted to screw a man?" He thought to himself.
Commander Ho stared at the dark ceiling expressionlessly. He pulled his trousers up.
Lan tidied up his own clothing as well. Sitting beside the Commander, he suddenly felt extremely at ease and content—Ho Ji-Ch’ing was a joke, a terribly great joke! And a dead funny one; too bad he was the only audience.
"Ji-Ch’ing," he stroked Commander Ho"s sweaty hair and said affectionately. "When did you develop this condition?"
Without a sideward glance, Commander Ho slapped his hand away.
Lan stuck his arms under the Commander"s, pulling him into an embrace. "Don’t be shy, I"m no stranger."
Commander Ho pushed him away and sat up, realizing that he had brought his own humiliation onto himself. He should slaughter Lan, right there and right then, or Lan would always hold something over his head. Yet what position was he in to kill Lan? It was all because his own incompetence, because he wasn"t enough of a man!
Commander Ho swallowed a suffocating breath, then abruptly, slapped himself in the face with a clear, loud whack. He stepped down to the floor and stormed out of the room with his head low and his back slouched. Young as he was, he didn"t have a single breath of youth about him. At the moment he appeared even older, as if he could no longer afford to live.