I accidentally drank your water

Shan Ye found a seat by the window and waited quietly.

His eyes never rested, following the café owner as he washed his hands, disinfected them, and made the coffee.

He had to admit, the owner really was handsome. He reminded Shan Ye of the pines he had seen in the snowy mountains of the northwest a few years ago, cool and pristine. Shan Ye had ordered a hot latte, and the owner was making latte art for him.

Shan Ye stared at his hands, at their well-defined knuckles and long fingers. Blue veins showed faintly on the backs of them.

Those really are beautiful hands.

If only I could hold one...

He stopped that dangerous thought in its tracks.

Before long, the young man at the counter brought his coffee over. "Enjoy."

"Thank you."

Shan Ye stared at the coffee in front of him. The latte art was a tree, small and adorable. He gazed at it for a long time, reluctant to drink it.

After finishing the coffee, the man came over. Shan Ye looked up at him. He had already taken off his apron, and his hands were damp, carrying a faint scent of disinfectant.

Shan Ye guessed he must be a clean freak, given how often he washed his hands.

The man sat down across from him with a glass of ice water. He took a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing. Shan Ye noticed the collarbones just visible beneath his clothes. There seemed to be a red mole on one of them.

Shan Ye's gaze followed that Adam's apple up and down.

Half the glass of ice water was gone, and Shan Ye was still staring, entranced.

In his ten years as a seasoned gay man, he had never met anyone who set his heart stirring. Now, one glance had been enough to captivate him. Every detail of this man was exactly his type.

Shan Ye swallowed and looked away.

"Does it taste bad?" the man asked, noticing he had not touched his coffee.

"N-no." To prove it, Shan Ye immediately picked up the coffee and took a sip.

"Careful, it's hot-"

Before the man could finish, Shan Ye's brows creased, and he forced down the coffee in his mouth. It scalded his throat until it felt numb, and his tongue hurt too.

"Are you all right?" the man asked.

Shan Ye shook his head, swallowed, and said, "I'm fine."

The moment he spoke, he realized something was wrong. His voice was hoarse. It sounded strange, raspy as a duck's quack.

He cleared his throat and tried again. "Ahem-I'm fine."

Oh no! My voice really is shot. What am I going to do? I still have a class this afternoon.

He shot the coffee a rueful glance. He had let a handsome face distract him, and now his throat was paying the price.

Shan Ye's eyes shifted to the half-full glass of ice water across the table. Without thinking, he grabbed it and drained it in one gulp.

The man had no chance to say anything before Shan Ye finished it.

After downing the ice water, Shan Ye coughed and tested his voice. "Ahem, ahem-" It seemed to sound a little more normal.

He stared at the empty glass in his hand. This seemed to be... the one the other man had already drunk from.

Realization hit him. He immediately raised his head and met the man's calm gaze.

"Um... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. My throat hurt just now, and I wanted something cold," he explained in a fluster.

The man gave a slight nod. "It's fine." He turned to the server. "Bring him another glass of water. Room temperature."

Shan Ye lowered his lashes. How embarrassing. I've made such a fool of myself at our very first meeting.

But then he reconsidered. What are we here for? Aren't we supposed to be dealing with a traffic accident?

Why does this feel like a blind date?

Shan Ye still had not quite recovered from his blind date that morning, which was giving him a strange, misplaced impression.

That morning, at his mother's request, he had gone to meet a male violin teacher. Things had seemed fine at first. The man was somewhere in the hundred-and-seventy-centimeter range, half a head shorter than him, and genuinely fair-skinned and clean-cut. His income and family circumstances were both quite good. He was a decent blind-date prospect.

As they talked, however, Shan Ye discovered a problem. The man believed in feng shui. Before coming, he had even performed a divination, which had indicated that meeting Shan Ye was not auspicious.

Finally, the man asked what his Chinese zodiac sign was, and Shan Ye said the Dog. Alarm bells immediately went off for the other man. He was a year younger than Shan Ye, which made him a Rooster.

Then he went on about how they were incompatible and how, if they got together, their lives would surely be endless chaos-a rooster-and-dog uproar.

After hearing all that, Shan Ye had no idea what to say. If the man was unhappy with his financial circumstances, he could earn more. But his zodiac sign was something he had been born with. How was he supposed to change that? Crawl back into his mother's womb?

He came back to his senses to find that the server had already set a fresh glass of water on the table.

"Thank you," Shan Ye said.

The man got down to business. "We'll handle your car through the insurance. I've already collected the evidence. I'll call the insurance company shortly."

"I'm fully at fault." He slid his phone over to Shan Ye.

Shan Ye quietly listened to him finish. He's fully at fault-what a lovely voice.

"I'll contact you once the car is repaired."

Shan Ye nodded, then suddenly caught on. "How will you contact me once it's repaired?"

He looked up at the man expectantly, his gaze clear and direct.

He had already pictured it: the man would say, "Then let's add each other on WeChat."

The man was silent for a moment, then turned toward the counter. "Let him know when the repairs are done."

The young man at the counter said, "Sure thing, boss!"

Shan Ye was speechless. His smile froze for a moment, but quickly returned.

He glanced at his watch and stood. "I have a class to teach, so I'll head out. I'll leave the car here."

The man merely gave a slight nod and remained seated.

Shan Ye reached the door, then suddenly doubled back. Bracing his hands on the table in front of the man, he gave him a sweet smile. "By the way, my name is Shan Ye. Shan is the character with multiple pronunciations, and Ye is the one in 'wildfire.'"

The man said nothing, just looked at him.

"What's your name?"

"...Fan Jin."

"Mr. Fan." Shan Ye repeated it with a smile, then turned and left.

After leaving, Shan Ye ran back to campus. He was a university lecturer who had only been working for a few years. He checked the time. Class started at two, and he had twenty minutes left. Without his car, his only option was to run back.

Fortunately, the university was not far away. By the time he reached his office, he still had five minutes to spare. He sat down, panting, his thoughts still on the café owner.

I didn't get his contact details. That's fine, though. My car's still there. There's bound to be another chance to see him.

"Heading to class, Mr. Shan?" a colleague beside him asked.

"Just about to." He checked the time and found there was only one minute left before class. He grabbed his laptop, textbook, and insulated mug.

He taught English and was teaching translation that semester. When he walked through the classroom door, all the front-row seats were occupied.

"You're all so eager today. Everyone's sitting up front." He was a little surprised.

It was September, and the semester had just begun. His class originally had only forty students, but now, looking around, he could see only a few empty seats. Far more than forty people were sitting there.

He set his laptop on the desk and began calling roll from the class list.

Once he finished, he raised an eyebrow. "So... those of you whose names I didn't call, are you here to take my class too?"

A male student in the front row said, "Your classes are fun, sir. You like showing us movies."

The room was lively, everyone laughing and joining in.

Shan Ye laughed too and held up a hand for quiet. "That's a way of learning English. Listening more to the pronunciation in films is good for you."

"But this semester's course is different. I'm teaching written translation, not spoken English, so there won't be any movies."

The expected groans never came. They simply wanted to watch this young, handsome lecturer teach. After all, male lecturers who were over a hundred and eighty centimeters tall, spoke gently, and knew English were few and far between.

He faintly heard someone below the podium whisper, "He's so handsome. I want to change my major."