HIM Chapter 6: He Xizhou Turns Out to Be Gay
Bo Qin took a week off. He didn’t go anywhere—just listened to music, wrote songs, practiced dance, worked out, watched movies, memorized lines, played games with Luo Ming when the mood struck, and insulted him as a noob while rage-quitting.
He was thoroughly enjoying his shut-in lifestyle, so much so that even Zhu Guanyun had to call him, practically begging him to go outside.
“You really don’t have to save us this much effort. With your status and traffic, don’t bottle yourself up and end up with psychological issues.”
Bo Qin, mid-game, casually brushed him off with some “mm-hm”s while trash-talking Luo Ming over voice chat. He took a moment to reply, “I’m fine. Mentally healthy.”
Zhu Guanyun listened to their childish bickering for a while before silently hanging up.
On Saturday, Bo Qin got into the car sent by the Bo family.
He’d only slept half an hour at around 5 or 6 a.m., and since he wasn’t in work mode, he’d skipped all skincare routines. Now his skin felt dry, and his lips were chapped.
In the back seat, Bo Qin pulled out his phone and opened the front camera. Still handsome—he had a kind of cool, disheveled charm.
It was ironic, really. At 25 years old, he had only been to the Bo family estate four times, the longest being when he was 16 and stayed for two months.
Even now, that memory gave him goosebumps.
An hour later, a man in a suit woke him. Bo Qin yawned shamelessly and pulled a cap over his messy hair.
The Bo family estate was massive, built in traditional Chinese style. The first time he saw it, he’d been struck by its weighty heritage and the sheer opulence built from money. It made the 16-year-old Bo Qin, fresh off a remote island in cheap hoodies and street market jeans, feel utterly out of place.
Nearly a decade later, Bo Qin walked into the estate again, still in hoodies and jeans, and with the same secretary from back then leading the way.
The weather was nice—clear skies and a light breeze. Hands in his hoodie pocket, Bo Qin lazily followed the secretary. As they passed a small garden, a wolfdog suddenly charged out, followed by a woman in a qipao frantically calling the dog's name.
The dog ran straight at Bo Qin. The secretary didn’t move. Bo Qin turned to face the oncoming dog and was about to kick when the dog suddenly stopped and sat down, growling.
Bo Qin casually lowered his foot, smiled, and thought, Same damn mutt again.
The woman caught up and quickly apologized. She looked about his age, elegant and beautiful—Bo Youzhao's type, clearly.
The secretary respectfully addressed her as “Miss Li.”
She looked surprised. “You’re Bo Qin? Oh my god, you’re the Bo Qin? I’ve listened to your songs.”
Bo Qin raised an eyebrow, caught off guard.
Her genuine joy and admiration left him slightly flustered.
“Huilan,” a man called out from the garden path. He had a sickly pallor and gave Bo Qin a chilly once-over. “This isn’t your crowd. Dress properly. Don’t you know what day it is?”
Bo Qin simply called him “Big Brother.”
Li Huilan, sensing the tension from Bo Youzhao, quickly subdued her earlier enthusiasm. “So you’re Youzhao’s younger brother. So young.”
Bo Qin just smiled and didn’t respond. Everyone in the family looked average, yet Bo Qin turned out ridiculously handsome. It was hard to believe they were blood-related.
The secretary left. Bo Qin followed his brother and Huilan. The dog was clearly hostile toward him but didn’t dare approach.
Bo Qin could feel Huilan’s curiosity, though she held back out of respect for Bo Youzhao. He idly kicked some gravel and mused, She must be here to balance Youzhao’s personality.
Opposites attract, he smiled to himself.
Inside the main house, breakfast had already ended. Bo Qin was glad—eating with the Bo family meant enduring endless etiquette rules and the oppressive presence of the old man.
He was supposed to greet the grandfather, but not without permission. Instead, a servant took him to his room. He declined dinner and shut the door.
There was nothing special about this room. No memories, no attachment—it was just another guest room to him. It had a piano, though. Bo Qin played for two hours, then collapsed into bed.
When he woke, it was dusk. After freshening up, he went downstairs. Bo Youzhao and Li Huilan were reading. Bo Qin greeted them but didn’t stay. He headed to the balcony, overlooking the artificial lake.
The house was quiet except for the ticking of a clock. After a while, Bo Youzhao came down and said, “Grandfather said you don’t need to see him. I’ll take you to the He family now.”
He frowned at Bo Qin’s outfit. “Ask Uncle Wang to get you changed.”
Bo Qin complied.
He was dressed in a tailored casual suit, complete with brooch, cufflinks, watch, and tie pin. Not quite red carpet styling, but sharp.
The mirror showed him a well-dressed man. No makeup, but his face could carry it.
When he came downstairs, Li Huilan gasped softly. Bo Youzhao had changed too but looked bland in comparison.
Bo Qin probably knew he’d wanted to say, Why so flashy?
There were two cars. Bo Qin rode in the second. For the first time, he felt the reality of this arranged marriage.
Marriage partner, he repeated in his head, then chuckled.
The He family’s estate was even grander—Western in style. The moment the car entered, Bo Qin straightened up.
He followed Bo Youzhao through the glittering halls, exchanging polite greetings and enduring judgmental glances with a graceful smile. This was the heart of money and power.
He greeted He Xizhou’s family, but didn’t see He Xizhou himself.
Mama He took his arm gently. “Tired, Xiao Qin? Want to go back first?”
Bo Qin was surprised by the offer but looked to the Bo patriarch. He nodded.
Bo Qin matched his pace to hers as they walked. She spoke gently, “Xizhou should’ve returned from North America yesterday. Some emergency delayed him—just landed.”
They passed a vibrant flowerbed. She paused, reaching toward a red rose. Smiling like a young girl, she said, “Xiao Qin, could you pick one for me?”
Bo Qin wrapped the stem in his pocket handkerchief and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she beamed.
Spinning the rose, she said, “Didn’t you have a song about roses? I just listened to it—called ‘Scattered,’ right?”
Bo Qin smiled, a little shy. “That was a long time ago. It’s a bit immature.”
“But it’s lovely,” she replied.
Bo Qin softly said thanks.
The breeze picked up. She wore only an off-shoulder gown. Bo Qin hesitated, then took off his blazer. “Would you mind?”
She smiled and shook her head.
Underneath was a classic black vest and white shirt. Broad shoulders, slim waist—he wore it well. She said, “No wonder you're a star. You look good in anything.”
Bo Qin actually blushed.
There was a calm warmth about her that reminded him of his late grandfather.
They passed the garden. She wore his jacket and said, “I know this marriage isn’t what you or Xizhou wanted. It was rushed, and you’re both reluctant. But you’re both good kids. Since you’re married now, maybe give it a chance.”
She added, “I haven’t even asked—do you like boys or girls? If you like boys, maybe try it with Xizhou. No pressure. If it doesn’t work in two years, it’s okay. Just a pity it’ll cost you time.”
Bo Qin was stunned. Wait, He Xizhou’s gay?
She smiled, “We’ll be family soon. Xizhou may seem cold, but he’s gentle. He likes boys. Do you?”
Bo Qin stayed silent, wondering how to politely say he was straight.
She took his silence as an answer and joked, “Oh dear, if Xizhou falls for you, he’s doomed. You’re too charming—so good-looking, talented, you sing and dance beautifully. Who wouldn’t like you?”
They reached the house. A fluffy white Samoyed bounded over—Bo Qin recognized it from He Xizhou’s social media. He took the rose back as Mama He knelt to pet the dog.
“Xiao Mianmian, has your big brother come home yet?” She looked up and told Bo Qin, “This is your big brother too, Xiao Qin-ge.”
Bo Qin wasn’t a dog person. He nodded politely but didn’t reach out.
Mama He led him in. “Xiao Qin, have a seat. Xizhou’s not back yet, but he should be soon.”
She placed the rose in a vase. Bo Qin charmed her for another half-hour, making her laugh.
Just as he was about to excuse himself, the housekeeper said, “Madam, the young master is back.”
Mama He got up to greet him. Bo Qin sighed internally and followed her downstairs—
And came face-to-face with He Xizhou, in formal wear, looking a little tired.
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