Daily Life of Being Turned Gay by the Male Lead After Transmigrating into an Apocalypse – CH122

Chapter 122: Missing

Little Yu looked from Su Mubai, who lay motionless with his back turned, to Lin Xiao, whose face was tense and strained. Even at his young age, the boy could tell that something was terribly wrong.

He hesitated for a second, then nodded softly. “Oh… okay. But… Brother Lin, please talk to Brother Little Bai nicely. Don’t fight, okay?” With that, he squeezed past Lin Xiao and crawled out of the tent.

In the cramped space, only the two of them remained, enveloped in a suffocating silence.

Su Mubai stayed turned away, perfectly still, as if he were already fast asleep.

Lin Xiao knelt on the thin sleeping mat, staring at the back that was so close, yet felt impossibly far away. His lips parted, countless words churning in his chest, desperate to break free. Yet the moment they met the icy coldness radiating from Su Mubai, every word caught in his throat.

Seconds ticked by as the stifling heat and heavy tension built inside the tent.

In the end, it was Lin Xiao who broke first under the maddening silence.

Shifting forward slightly, his voice came out raspy and strained, carrying both a desperate resolve and a cautious plea: “Little Bai… last night… were you the one who took me back to my room?”

Su Mubai’s spine seemed to go rigid for a split second.

Lin Xiao’s heart leaped into his throat. He wet his dry lips, barely daring to breathe as he asked the question that had been tearing through his mind: “Did I… last night… did I kiss you?”

The words last night hit Su Mubai like a dagger straight to the chest.

All the chaotic memories he had forced down and tried to bury—the warm embrace, the hot breath, that uninvited kiss tasting of alcohol, followed by the blinding panic, the secret racing of his heart, and the crushing scene that morning—surged back all at once like a burst dam, threatening to drown him completely.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his fingernails biting deep into his palms, using the sharp pain to hold onto his last thread of composure.

“No.”

His voice was dead flat, completely devoid of emotion, ringing with absolute finality inside the small tent.

“No…”

Those two letters struck Lin Xiao like an ice blade, instantly snuffing out the tiny spark of hope that had just flared to life within him.

The anxiety, the urgency, and that faint trace of desperate longing vanished from his face, leaving behind only a gray, hollow desolation.

Refusing to accept it, he stared at Su Mubai’s back, his voice trembling with an unconscious plea: “Little Bai… look at me… really? Was it really not you? Tell me… I…”

Keeping his eyes closed, Su Mubai felt as though his heart were being twisted in a vise.

He couldn’t fathom why Lin Xiao was doing this. Things had already reached this point; he and Lin Weiwei had already crossed that line, the matter was settled, and Lin Xiao had promised to take responsibility.

Why come to him now with these questions? Was he trying to verify something?

Or was it simply to crush Su Mubai’s foolish delusions once and for all, making sure he gave up completely?

A wave of sharp heartache, tangled with bone-deep exhaustion, washed over him.

He didn’t want to face this anymore. He didn’t want to hear it, and he refused to be dragged through this slow, agonizing torment any longer.

Without turning around, his voice came out colder than ever, drawing a sharp, unyielding line between them: “No! If you have nothing else to say, I’m tired and I want to sleep.”

After that, he fell completely silent. He even deliberately slowed his breathing, making it deep and steady, as though he had drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Lin Xiao froze, kneeling there in utter defeat.

Staring at that unmoving back, all his courage and explanations shattered against that invisible wall of ice.

He wanted to reach out and touch him, wanted to pull him around and get a real answer, wanted to shout all his suspicions and realizations aloud… but his hand stalled in mid-air, only to drop limply to his side.

He remained kneeling there in the dark, silent as a forgotten stone.

The air inside the tent was sweltering. Sweat quickly soaked through his undershirt, clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Yet the hollow ache in his chest was sharper and more intense than anything he had ever felt before.

He lost track of time, but eventually, he noticed that Su Mubai’s breathing had grown slightly uneven. Faint, troubled murmurs escaped his lips as if he were fighting something in his sleep, his brow tightly furrowed in fitful restlessness.

Lin Xiao’s eyes drifted to the corner of the tent, where a small hand fan lay—likely brought in by Little Yu earlier.

Reaching out quietly, he picked up the fan, shifted back into place, and began to gently fan the restless sleeper in the narrow space, stroke after steady stroke.

His movements were clumsy and painstaking, terrified of making the breeze too strong and waking him, yet worried it wouldn’t be enough to cool him down.

Repeating the motion over and over, his arm soon grew numb and sore. Sweat slid down his temples and stung his eyes, but he never stopped.

It felt as though this small, useless gesture was the only way he could ease the suffocating regret and powerlessness tearing him apart inside.

In quiet torment and silent care, the long night slowly slipped away.

At daybreak, Su Mubai woke with a pounding headache, weighed down by utter exhaustion.

He instinctively glanced beside him—Lin Xiao was already gone.

He had not been completely unconscious during the night; he had vaguely sensed Lin Xiao sitting beside him, quietly waving the fan to bring him relief from the heat.

Yet he had kept his eyes shut tight the entire time, refusing to move or give any response.

He couldn’t understand why, even after everything, Lin Xiao would still show him such tender care. It only threw his thoughts into greater chaos.

Forcing himself to stamp out the feelings that had no right to exist, he repeated the silent warning in his head: Don’t hold onto false hope. Don’t lose your mind.

With a blank expression, he didn’t bother wondering where Lin Xiao had gone. He simply got up and began efficiently packing away his sleeping gear, burying every emotion deep inside his heart.

While Lin Xiao had spent the night in misery, Chu Yang had slept like a log.

The RV’s air conditioning had kept the cabin cool and pleasant, and the soft mattress had given him a deep, dreamless rest.

Waking up refreshed, he splashed cold water on his face, pulled on clean clothes, and pushed the door open to step outside. But as he hopped down, he nearly crashed into a figure standing rigidly by the vehicle like a wooden post.

“Whoa… Old Lin?” Chu Yang jumped, clutching his chest in surprise. “What are you doing standing here at the crack of dawn? Playing guard dog? You scared the hell out of me!”

Lin Xiao slowly lifted his head.

Heavy dark circles framed his bloodshot eyes. His face was pale and drawn, a rough stubble lined his jaw, and every shred of life seemed to have been drained from him, leaving behind a dull, lifeless haze.

He stared at Chu Yang with a look so hollow that it made Chu Yang’s heart skip a beat.

Daily Life of Being Turned Gay by the Male Lead After Transmigrating into an Apocalypse