Deep in the Act: Chapter 24

Gao Zhun stood behind Fang Chi, his briefcase not yet set down, watching him pull down the blinds of the clinic room one by one. “Dr. Fang, about what I said yesterday… don’t take it to heart.”

The room went completely dark, hazy and indistinct, carrying a vague sense of intimacy. Fang Chi turned to look at him. “I know. You were just too nervous yesterday,” he said with his usual gentle smile. “I didn’t take it seriously.”

Hearing that he hadn’t taken it seriously, Gao Zhun felt a little disappointed instead. “The letter you wrote, I carved a wooden frame and mounted it. Would you… like to see it?” As he spoke, he pulled out his phone. “I only finished it a little past four this morning.”

Fang Chi walked over quickly. He didn’t look at the phone first, but at his face, his right thumb brushing gently beneath Gao Zhun’s eye socket. “You didn’t sleep well.”

Gao Zhun’s whole body felt as if it had been struck by electricity, even his tailbone tingling cold. Fang Chi moved behind him, holding his hand to look at the picture. “You really did a wonderful job. Did you design it yourself?”

Gao Zhun nodded, his face flushing red. Fang Chi patted his shoulder. “Send it to me later.” He moved a stool beside the large red recliner. “Mr. Gao, we’ll start formal treatment today. Just relax and follow my lead.”

Gao Zhun was a bit stunned. “Starting today? Then everything before…”

“That was all preliminary diagnosis.” Fang Chi stood professionally behind the recliner, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “First, take off your jacket.” He adjusted the angle of the stool with complete focus, then added casually, “Take off your tie and belt too.”

Gao Zhun’s hands paused as he undressed. “Take off as in…”

“Pull them out.” Fang Chi moved over another stool. “If your waist feels tight, unbutton your pants. You can also pull the zipper down a bit. I need you to be completely relaxed.”

Gao Zhun hung up his jacket and touched his tie. He was no longer afraid of undoing it, but in its place came an indescribable shyness. Fang Chi finished setting up the training area and looked up at him, watching those hands hesitating at the tie knot. “Still feeling fear?” He walked around the recliner. “Let me help.” Standing in front of Gao Zhun, he covered Gao Zhun’s hand with his own and gently pulled down. Gao Zhun trembled. The dim light gave him a strange illusion.

“Undo a few shirt buttons too, and lie down on the chair.” Fang Chi guided him by the shoulder onto the recliner. “What we’re doing is a relaxation exercise, twenty minutes at most. You can practice it at home too.”

Gao Zhun’s heart was beating wildly. He knew he shouldn’t, but when Fang Chi helped position his legs on the chair, he even felt his breath stop. Maybe it was the darkness, but Fang Chi’s voice was especially vivid. “We’ll start with breathing exercises.” He sat on the stool, opening his left hand and slowly placing it on Gao Zhun’s chest. The muscle there visibly twitched. “Don’t be nervous. Relax.” Fang Chi rubbed his chest. “There are two ways to breathe. Most people use chest breathing. Let’s try abdominal breathing now.” When he said “abdominal,” Gao Zhun already felt something was wrong. But then, unexpectedly, Fang Chi placed his right hand on Gao Zhun’s lower abdomen. Almost instinctively, Gao Zhun let out a soft, sticky moan.

Before he could apologize, Fang Chi immediately said, “It’s fine. Some patients react like this. Maybe your pants are too tight.” He pinched the button on Gao Zhun’s pants and twisted it open. “Sorry, let me loosen them a little.”

He didn’t just undo the button. He also pulled the zipper down by a third. Gao Zhun held his breath. The slight metallic friction sounded especially harsh to his ears, so much so that he had to press his hand tightly over his mouth.

“Relax your body. Take your hand down.” Fang Chi stopped him, his hand unconsciously pressing on Gao Zhun’s lower abdomen. The sensation was so intense that Gao Zhun wanted to curl up. Fang Chi noticed his tension and stood up to look at his face. “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?”

He couldn’t see clearly, so he leaned in very close, so close that his breath stirred Gao Zhun’s bangs. Fang Chi’s lips, hazy in the darkness, were right before his eyes, making Gao Zhun want to just lean in and kiss them. At this distance, he could grip his shoulders, weigh him down with his whole body, and slowly, bit by bit, lick the inside of his mouth… His lower abdomen was burning hot, the flood of his entire body converging in that one direction. Desire was just beginning, earth-shattering and terrifying. Gao Zhun was jolted awake by this horrifying pleasure, unable to believe his own shameless imagination.

In reality, Fang Chi had already sat back down, his left hand pressing down. “Don’t move your chest. When you inhale, try to expand your abdomen outward. Feel the air filling your stomach.” His right hand on Gao Zhun’s lower abdomen patted gently. “When you exhale, tighten your abdomen as much as possible, as if trying to press it against your lower back.” He looked at the luminous hands of the wall clock. “Give it a try. Don’t rush.”

Gao Zhun stared at the ceiling with wide, blank eyes. He breathed in the new way, each inhale filling him with shame to the core of his heart. He didn’t need to look to know that his stomach was rhythmically lifting Fang Chi’s palm.

“You’re not exhaling enough.” Fang Chi stood up, pressing his hand down in time with Gao Zhun’s exhalation. “Try to get all the air out.” His attention was entirely on his right hand, not noticing that the pinky of his left hand had brushed past the collar of Gao Zhun’s shirt and touched his skin. The contact between his fingertip and Gao Zhun’s chest was only that tiny point of heat, yet it made Gao Zhun restless and uneasy, his whole body boiling over.

Fang Chi sensed his stirring. Though he couldn’t see clearly, he could feel the tension beneath his palm. He guessed that perhaps Gao Zhun had an erection. “Mr. Gao, if you feel uncomfortable, tell me.”

“I…” Gao Zhun opened his mouth, his voice hoarse with tension. He coughed. “I feel uncomfortable. Can we stop for a moment?”

“Where do you feel uncomfortable?”

His groin was swelling more and more. Gao Zhun had to turn to the side, covering his crotch with his hand. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Can’t hold it anymore?”

Because the zipper was open, his underwear was already pushing through, pressing against Gao Zhun’s palm. “I can’t hold it anymore.”

Fang Chi watched him in the darkness, like a stern commanding officer. After a long while, he said, “Go ahead.”

He moved aside. Gao Zhun slid off the recliner, brushing past him, and rushed into the restroom. The door closed, then pushed shut from inside, followed by the sound of the lock. Soon the faucet was turned on, and then there was no more sound from him. For a long time, Fang Chi stared blankly at the treatment chair. The bright red had sunk into blackness in the gloom. As if possessed, it seemed as if Gao Zhun were still lying there. He placed his hands on either side, stroking back and forth with greed and even lust.

Who knows how much time passed. The faucet turned off, the flush sounded, and Fang Chi woke as if from a dream, withdrawing his hands. His palms were covered in sweat. He wiped them dry anxiously against his armpits, ran his hands through his hair in a fluster, and the restroom door opened. Gao Zhun tiptoed out, stood at the doorway for a moment, then walked back with his head lowered.

“Why so long?” Fang Chi heard himself ask. He couldn’t believe he had actually asked that.

Gao Zhun stood there awkwardly. “My stomach… didn’t feel well.”

“Maybe you were too tense.” Fang Chi also ducked his head, not looking at him. “Want to try again?”

Gao Zhun shook his head immediately, then said cautiously, “If… if you want me to try…”

“No need.” Fang Chi stood up, walked across the room, and turned on the lights. Turning back, he had that warm, sunny smile again. “You did very well. As a reward, I’ll take you somewhere to relax.”

Gao Zhun blinked. The sudden brightness and that smile were both too dazzling.

Leaving the clinic, after two turns there was an uphill road. At the top of the slope was a small plaza. Along the west side of the plaza was a row of colorful nightclubs, one of which hung a small metal sign that read “Black Pool.” The iron door was decorated with rivets and stickers. Fang Chi led Gao Zhun inside. As soon as they entered, they heard surging music, the kind of passion unique to South America. Young men and women came and went, all tall and slender, some of them unforgettable at a glance.

Fang Chi gave Gao Zhun’s shoulder a nudge to keep him following. The two of them turned left down a long corridor, and in a blink, the view opened up into a standard Latin dance floor, surrounded by dining tables of various sizes. On the tables sat old-fashioned pull-cord lamps and vintage enamel vases. The guests were all well-dressed, watching the dancing and chatting softly.

“Mr. Fang,” a waiter in a striped uniform greeted Fang Chi warmly. “Your usual spot?”

Fang Chi nodded and led Gao Zhun toward the shadows. Clearly he was a regular. Gao Zhun asked, “Is this a members-only club?”

“It looks like it,” Fang Chi said, frequently watching out for his footing. “But it’s actually a regular club. I didn’t tell you, did I? My hobby is dancing.” The spot he liked was half in light and half in shadow. Treating him exactly like a woman, he courteously pulled out the chair in the shadows for Gao Zhun. “Unfortunately, I can’t dance.”

Gao Zhun sat down. The chair was comfortable. In the vase were two roses, one red and one white, each tilting toward them. On the dance floor, they were dancing the cha-cha to “Corazon De Melao.” There were four or five pairs of dancers. High heels tapped against the floor. Hairspray and sequins on the clothes reflected the silver lights. Women’s brown long legs swung beside the men, a vivid feast for the eyes.

“I come here to relax when I’m tired from work,” Fang Chi said, handing over the menu. “A psychologist’s own mind has no one to care for, so I appreciate the ‘Ronde Chasse’ to care for myself.” He smiled with feigned distress, pointing to a dazzling pair of dancers at the center of the floor. The bright, crisp steps beneath their feet were the Ronde Chasse.

“Lin Lin was a dancer…” Not entirely on purpose, Gao Zhun brought her up, as if hoping Fang Chi would say something bad about her, to satisfy his own dark urge to compare.

Fang Chi’s cheek twitched. “Yes, that’s part of it,” he said, looking somewhat unnatural. He raised his hand to call the waiter. “That’s all in the past now.”

The waiter came over with an ordering device. With him was a young man, bright double eyelids, full lips, wearing a shiny dance outfit, his neck and chest covered in sweat, clearly just off the dance floor. “Hello, sir. Today if you follow our subscription account, we can give you fifty percent off.” He held a small card, a promotional card for the shop, with a QR code on it.

“No thanks,” Fang Chi said to him with a polite smile. “I don’t have WeChat. Thank you.”

“I do,” Gao Zhun said from across the table. He sat in the shadows. From the young man’s angle, he could only see his hazy outline and a pair of exquisite, beautiful hands resting on the table. Those hands pulled a phone from the pocket of a fine suit, tapped a few times casually, and pulled up the WeChat scan page. “I just need to follow, right?”

He leaned forward, and his face emerged from the sharp line between light and shadow, like sunlight breaking through clouds, like white stones beneath shimmering waves. Just as Murakami Haruki wrote in his book, “beautiful enough to destroy everything.” The young man was stunned. He didn’t answer. As a dancer, he was surrounded by beautiful people, but at this moment, all that beauty seemed worthless, like doodles drawn with red and blue pencils on scrap paper, tossed into the trash with one throw.

Fang Chi was very displeased, his fingertips tapping the table. He was displeased that Gao Zhun had revealed his face from the shadows Fang Chi had assigned him, and even more displeased that this dancing young man had trespassed into his territory. “Are you done?” he pressed.

Done. The young man put away the card but didn’t want to leave. “Are you… together?”

Gao Zhun didn’t catch the deeper meaning in his words and said “yes” casually. Almost at the same time, Fang Chi said coldly, even unhappily, “No.”

He bit the two words hard, enough for Gao Zhun to catch on. In an instant, the young man’s expression turned suggestive. Fang Chi regretted it and immediately corrected himself, “Ah, we are together.”

He didn’t expect Gao Zhun to correct himself too, speaking in unison with him, “No.”

All three of them were a bit awkward. The young man said “thank you” and went to another table. After he walked away, Fang Chi feigned nonchalance. “The young man is quite handsome, and he has a good figure too.”

“Dancers are pretty much all like that.” Gao Zhun brushed it off. He had no interest in that person at all. Just then, his phone received a text message. He swiped to open it: Your collar is buttoned up so tight.

He frowned. It was an unfamiliar number, probably that young man, who had found his phone number through WeChat. A second message followed immediately: I want to undo it for you.

He was so startled he lost his grip, and the phone fell onto the table. Fang Chi asked, “What’s wrong?”

“N… nothing…” The feeling of being violated came rushing back. He looked around but couldn’t see anyone watching him. The texts kept coming, one after another. Fang Chi pressed his hand over the phone, picked it up, and held it out to him. “Unlock it for me.”

Gao Zhun looked at him with eyes walking on thin ice. Fang Chi didn’t withdraw his hand, nor did he speak, until Gao Zhun gave in.

The texts read: “I fell in love with you at first sight.”

“I’m big, and I’m skilled too. Want to give it a try?”

“Know what I’m thinking right now? I’m thinking about how to strip you naked, and then…”

Fang Chi showed no expression, returned the phone to him, picked up his jacket, and stood up. “Let’s go.”

He walked behind Gao Zhun the whole way, taking off his glasses as he walked and putting them in his pants pocket. Outside the door, across the street, there was a street lamp. He escorted Gao Zhun over. “I left my glasses on the table. Wait here for me. Can you do that?”

“Let me go with you…” Gao Zhun grabbed his clothes and wouldn’t let go, but Fang Chi unexpectedly pulled him away. Gao Zhun watched him cross the street and walk back into “Black Pool,” opening the door and going inside.

The street lamp’s light was only so much. Gao Zhun was very afraid, afraid of the dark, afraid of those text messages. He checked his watch again and again. Five minutes, ten minutes passed, and Fang Chi still hadn’t returned. The more he thought about it, the more something felt wrong. He pulled out his phone, and just as he reached the text message screen, the shop door burst open. Fang Chi came out swinging his arms. His nose and cheekbones were red, and the web between his thumb and index finger was torn. Gao Zhun felt as if he’d been punched in the head, all the blood in his body freezing solid. Fang Chi pulled his glasses from his pants pocket and put them on, then came over and put his arm around Gao Zhun’s shoulder. “Do you have a first aid kit at home?”