Pei Jiheng sat down at the edge of the bed.
Given that recent teasing remark, Luo Huai’s current state made it completely impossible to respond.
He simply stared fixedly at Pei Jiheng, his delicate brows furrowed, the emotions in the depths of his eyes complex.
Pei Jiheng did not say anything more. He merely narrowed his eyes, looking back at Luo Huai with effortless ease.
A strand of hair stood up on the crown of Luo Huai’s head, sticking straight out in the halo of the bedside lamp. It was fluffy, forming a bizarre contrast with his pale and haggard complexion at that moment.
Pei Jiheng reached out, intending to smooth down that stray hair.
Just as his fingers moved close to the side of Luo Huai’s face, Luo Huai reacted first. His pale palm pressed against Pei Jiheng’s chest, and like someone facing a formidable enemy, he leaned back, almost shrinking to the other side of the bed.
The force behind that hand wasn’t heavy, but the posture was one of absolute rejection.
“You kidnapped me to your house!” Luo Huai’s voice pitched higher, carrying obvious wariness and panic. “What is your purpose? How much did you hear?”
Pei Jiheng’s movement paused.
He looked down at the hand Luo Huai had pressed against his chest, then lifted his eyes to examine Luo Huai’s guard-filled face and let out a soft scoff.
This kid still thought he was the one who had kidnapped him. Besides, judging by his reaction, he really did have some little secrets.
Thinking of this, Pei Jiheng narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward slightly and spoke at an unhurried pace, “Do you know what you are saying?”
Luo Huai froze.
His brow furrowed even tighter. His gaze shifted from Pei Jiheng’s face to his own hand, and then to the surrounding environment. An unfamiliar bedroom, an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar scent, a naked body, but no physical discomfort whatsoever.
His mind was a tangled mess.
“I…” Luo Huai’s voice dropped, taking on a fragility he would never normally display. “Then… why am I here?”
When he said this, he looked utterly distressed.
Because he had been crying, the rims of his eyes were still red, the skin around the outer corners glowing with a faint pink tint, and the tear mole beneath his right eye stood out especially clearly under the light. He looked rather pitiful, lowering his gaze helplessly as he tried hard to pull a logical explanation out of his chaotic fragments of memory.
Pei Jiheng gazed at his pitiful appearance, and for some reason, a tightness formed in his chest.
Right at that moment, Luo Huai decided to withdraw the hand he had pressed against Pei Jiheng’s chest.
His fingers had barely drawn back when, in the next second, Pei Jiheng abruptly pinned that hand down!
His palm covered the back of Luo Huai’s hand, his five fingers tightening to firmly press that fleeing hand against his own chest. Luo Huai could feel the heartbeat beneath his palm, steady and powerful, beat by beat.
“You, just like last time…”
Pei Jiheng tilted his head, lowering his voice until it was very soft and slow, like a feather brushing lightly across the outer earlobe. The more he spoke, the closer he leaned, making the atmosphere increasingly ambiguous.
“You drank alcohol, then ran into me, clung to me and refused to let go, insisting that I help you, that I kiss you, and you even…”
“Stop!”
Unable to break free, Luo Huai anxiously used his other hand to cover Pei Jiheng’s lips.
The instant his palm pressed against those thin lips, his fingertips brushed against warm breath, and the tips of Luo Huai’s ears turned red all at once.
“You’re lying!” He glared, his voice rushed and exasperated. “Impossible, I didn’t drink! I was clearly…”
Halfway through his sentence, he cut off abruptly.
Pei Jiheng lifted his deep, pool-like eyes, looking at him from behind his silver-rimmed glasses with an amused gaze. Then he reached out and leisurely pulled away the hand Luo Huai was using to cover his mouth.
“Clearly what?” He raised an eyebrow.
Luo Huai’s throat bobbed.
His gaze began to dart away, shifting from Pei Jiheng’s eyes to the bridge of his nose, from the bridge of his nose to his chin, and from his chin to the bedside lamp nearby. He simply refused to look at him.
“…It’s nothing.”
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Well, it seemed neither of them wanted to tell the truth.
Pei Jiheng finally released the hand holding Luo Huai down, straightened up, and withdrew to a short distance away. He still looked at Luo Huai with a playful and relaxed posture, tilting his head with that same half-smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.
Only now did Luo Huai notice that amidst the earlier scuffle, the quilt had slipped down from his chest and pooled around his waist, leaving his chest bare to the cool air.
He hurriedly pulled both arms back under the quilt, wrapping himself up again and curling his body as he shifted to the other side of the bed, watching Pei Jiheng warily.
A trace of sweet, cloying acacia flower scent still lingered in the air, faint, but the moment Luo Huai smelled it, he knew what kind of pheromone it represented.
Yet he couldn’t catch any trace of pine scent; he had no idea whether it had dissipated or had never been there at all.
Seeing his nervous appearance, Pei Jiheng spoke first, his voice still low: “Then why don’t you try recalling things now, and tell me why you ended up in my house?”
Luo Huai opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.
He didn’t know how to answer.
He only remembered going to meet that middleman, handing over the money, and the other party demanding more. He remembered walking out of the alleyway, remembering footsteps behind him, and then he didn’t remember anything else.
When he woke up, he was in this bed, the suppression patch on the back of his neck was gone, he had no clothes on, his head was dizzy, his eyes hurt, and not a single part of his body felt comfortable.
How else was he supposed to think?
He had even wondered if some bad guy had grabbed him and done that kind of thing to him.
Yet when Luo Huai saw that it was Pei Jiheng who had entered the room, he really had felt a sense of relief.
Even so, how could he possibly tell all of this to Pei Jiheng? They weren’t even people from the same world.
“I was drunk.”
Luo Huai finally spat out those four words, burying his face in the bundle of quilt as his voice came out muffled.
Pei Jiheng glanced at him without exposing the lie.
If he didn’t want to talk, fine; he would find out himself anyway.
“Mm,” Pei Jiheng nodded, his tone nonchalant. “Drunk quite heavily.”
With tacit mutual understanding, the two of them flipped past the topic.
Wanting to say something, Luo Huai opened his mouth, the tips of his ears flushing a bit redder, before finally asking in a voice no louder than a mosquito’s, “Where are my clothes?”
Pei Jiheng kept a straight face. “I already said, you threw yourself at me, so you must have taken them off yourself.”
Luo Huai shot him a skeptical look and didn’t press further.
“Then… us, we didn’t do that?”
“Which that?”
Red-faced and exasperated, Luo Huai snapped, “You know which one!”
Pei Jiheng narrowed his eyes and curved his lips. “Guess?”
Luo Huai froze in frustration.
He pouted, turning his head to glance at the darkness visible through the gap in the curtains. The night outside was thick, and he had no idea what time it was.
He turned back, looking earnestly at Pei Jiheng.
“Uncle,” he suddenly spoke, his tone softening compared to a moment ago. “No matter what, you didn’t hurt me, right?”
“Who knows?”
Pei Jiheng lightly tapped his fingers against his knee, turning around as he spoke. “Go to sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
He turned to leave.
“Pei Jiheng.”
Luo Huai called out his full name.
Pei Jiheng’s steps paused for a fraction of a second. Without looking back, he strode out and closed the door behind him.
Luo Huai leaned against the head of the bed, slowly loosening his grip on the crumpled edge of the blanket as he curled back under the covers.
Just what on earth was going on here?