The next morning, Wenhao woke up feeling strangely... okay.
His ankle was healing. The pain was dull now instead of sharp. He could almost walk without limping if he went slow.
He freshened up and limped downstairs for breakfast. The dining room was empty, which was normal. Zhenlong was probably working again. Hua Cheng was probably lurking somewhere.
Wenhao sat down and poked at his food. He wasn't really hungry.
His mind kept wandering to last night. To the way Zhenlong had looked at him. To the warmth in his eyes. To the way he had smiled.
Wenhao shook his head. This was dangerous. He was getting too comfortable. He needed to remember that Zhenlong was the enemy.
But then why did the enemy make his heart do weird things?
He finished breakfast and wandered around the mansion. He tried to read. He tried to nap. He tried to annoy the servants. Nothing worked.
He was standing in front of the mirror in his room when he noticed it.
His hair was getting long. Too long. It was falling into his eyes and curling at the nape of his neck. He pushed it back and frowned.
"I need a haircut," he muttered to himself. "I look like a sheepdog."
He limped downstairs and found Zhenlong in the living room, reading something on his tablet. His face was still a little pale but he looked better than last night. More alive.
Wenhao flopped onto the couch across from him.
"Zhenlong," he announced. "I need a haircut."
Zhenlong looked up and his eyes swept over Wenhao's hair. His expression was unreadable. "It's not that bad."
"It's terrible. I look like I've been living in a cave. Which I have. Because you kidnapped me. But still. I have standards."
Zhenlong sighed. "I can't call a barber here. It's too risky."
Wenhao's face fell. "What? No. I need a haircut. I can't go around looking like this. It's bad for my mental health."
Zhenlong stared at him. "Your mental health?"
"Yes. My mental health. My hair is part of my identity. I can't just let it go wild. I have an image to maintain."
Zhenlong pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're impossible."
"I'm practical. There's a difference."
Zhenlong was quiet for a moment. Then he said slowly, "I could do it."
Wenhao froze. "You?"
"Yes. Me. I can cut hair. How hard can it be?"
"How hard can it be? Zhenlong, you're gonna ruin my hair "
"It's just scissors. And a comb. How hard can it be?"
Wenhao stared at him. "No. Absolutely not. You're going to ruin my hair. I'll look like a disaster. A walking catastrophe."
Zhenlong stood up and walked toward the door. "Too late. I've already decided. Stay here."
"What? No. Zhenlong. Zhenlong come back—"
But Zhenlong was already gone.
Wenhao sat on the couch with his arms crossed and his face twisted in worry. He was going to regret this. He was going to regret this so much.
A few minutes later, Zhenlong returned with a servant carrying a tray of supplies. Scissors. A comb. A spray bottle. A towel.
Wenhao's eyes went wide. "You're serious. You're actually serious."
Zhenlong gestured to the chair in the middle of the room. "Sit."
"No."
"Sit."
"I refuse."
Zhenlong walked toward him and Wenhao scrambled off the couch and limped away.
"No no no. Stay away from me with those scissors. I've seen what you do to people. You're not coming near my hair."
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"You're going to hurt my hair. That's worse."
"Sit down, Wenhao."
"Make me."
Zhenlong sighed. Then he grabbed Wenhao by the shoulders and pushed him toward the chair. Wenhao resisted but Zhenlong was stronger and soon he was sitting in the chair with his arms crossed and his face like thunder.
"This is abuse," Wenhao said.
Zhenlong ignored him and wrapped the towel around Wenhao's neck. He picked up the comb and started working through Wenhao's tangled hair.
"Your hair is a mess," Zhenlong muttered.
"That's because I've been in captivity for over a week."
"Excuses."
Zhenlong started snipping. Just a little. Just a small piece of hair falling to the floor.
Wenhao screamed.
"WHAT WAS THAT. WHAT DID YOU DO. IS IT GONE. DID YOU CUT IT ALL OFF."
Zhenlong stared at him. "I cut one piece. One."
"I felt it. I felt my soul leave my body. That was traumatic."
"You're being dramatic."
"I'm being realistic. My hair is my best feature. Without it, I have nothing."
"You have plenty of things."
"Like what?"
Zhenlong thought for a moment. "Annoying personality."
"Exactly. I need my hair to balance it out."
Zhenlong shook his head and kept cutting. Each time the scissors got close to Wenhao's ear, Wenhao flinched and screamed.
"STOP STOP STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. I FELT A COLD WIND. YOU CUT TOO MUCH."
"I barely touched you."
"I FELT IT."
"You felt air."
"That's worse."
Wenhao's nervous giggles started. Small at first. Then growing. He couldn't help it. He was so scared but didn't know what else to do.
He started laughing. Loud and uncontrollable.
Zhenlong paused. "What are you laughing at?"
"This," Wenhao gasped. "I don't knowwww I'm scaredd
Zhenlong's mouth twitched. "You're insane."
"I'm not insane. I'm just... adaptable."
Zhenlong kept cutting. His eyes were focused and his hands were careful. But Wenhao's laughter was infectious and soon Zhenlong felt his own lips twitching.
"Don't move," Zhenlong said.
"I'm not moving. I'm laughing. There's a difference."
"Stop laughing."
"I can't stop. I'm nervous"
Zhenlong's jaw tightened but a laugh escaped him. Low and warm.
"Shut up or I'll cut your ear"
"Howww it's tickling"
"Shut up."
"Make me."
Zhenlong laughed again and Wenhao's giggles turned into full laughter and soon both of them were laughing while Zhenlong tried to cut Wenhao's hair.
It was chaos.
The scissors kept slipping. The comb kept getting tangled. Wenhao kept moving and laughing and Zhenlong kept trying to hold him still.
"Stay still."
"I can't."
"Try."
"I am trying. You're too funny."
Zhenlong finally finished. He stepped back and looked at his work.
And his face went pale.
Wenhao saw his expression. "What? What's wrong? Don't tell me. I don't want to know."
Zhenlong didn't say anything. He just handed Wenhao a mirror.
Wenhao looked at his reflection.
And screamed.
"WHAT DID YOU DO. MY HAIR. MY BEAUTIFUL HAIR."
It was uneven. Chunky. There were patches where the scissors had gone too close and other patches where they hadn't gone close enough. His hair looked like it had been attacked by a lawnmower.
"You ruined it," Wenhao wailed. "You ruined my hair. I look like a clown. A sad clown. A sad clown with a bad haircut."
Zhenlong was trying very hard not to laugh. "It's not that bad."
"It's terrible. It's a disaster. I can't go out like this. I can't face the world."
"You're a hostage. You can't go out anyway."
"That's not the point. The point is you ruined my hair and now I'm going to have to live with this trauma."
Wenhao stood up and started hitting Zhenlong's chest with his fists. Small. Playful. Not really hurting.
"Fix it," Wenhao whined. "Fix my hair. You need to fix this. You owe me."
Zhenlong was laughing now. Full and real and loud. "I can't fix it. It's already cut."
"Then shave it. Shave it all off. Start over."
"I'm not shaving your head."
"Then give me a wig. A really nice wig. I want a wig."
"You're not getting a wig."
Wenhao hit him again. "You're the worst kidnapper ever. You can't even give a decent haircut. What kind of criminal are you?"
"A very successful one."
"Your hair-cutting skills say otherwise."
Zhenlong looked at Wenhao's hair and burst out laughing again. He couldn't help it. It was so bad. So unbelievably bad.
Wenhao stared at him. "You're laughing. You're laughing at my pain."
"I'm sorry," Zhenlong said between laughs. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it. I'll get someone to fix it."
"You'd better."
Wenhao's pout was so adorable that Zhenlong almost laughed again. But he controlled himself.
The servants were watching from the doorway. Their mouths were open. Their eyes were wide. Some of them were giggling behind their hands.
They had never seen Zhenlong like this. Laughing. Playing. Happy.
It was like seeing a completely different person.
Zhenlong finally stopped laughing and looked at Wenhao. His eyes were soft and warm.
"I'm sorry," he said again. "I really am. I'll make it up to you."
"You'd better," Wenhao said. "You owe me. Big time."
"I know."
"And you have to watch another movie with me."
Zhenlong shook his head but he was smiling. "Fine. Another movie. Tonight."
Wenhao's face lit up. "Really?"
"Really."
Wenhao smiled. A real smile. And for a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then Wenhao looked at his reflection again and groaned.
"I can't believe this," he muttered. "My hair. My beautiful hair."
Zhenlong laughed again. And Wenhao hit him again.
But both of them were smiling.