Then, Yi Chao raised his head and looked at Shen Zui behind the easel, his gaze lingering.
“Speaking of which, Mr. Shen, are you also an Alpha?”
Shen Zui gave a soft “Mm.”
The mango on the plate had been mostly eaten by him. Having eaten quite a lot at noon, his stomach now felt warm and cozy, making him somewhat drowsy. He leaned halfway against the sofa, eyelids drooping slightly.
Yet, a shadow of doubt arose in Yi Chao’s heart.
If Mr. Shen was also an Alpha, then why was he attracted to Shen Zui’s pheromones?
He stared at Shen Zui for a moment, then, as if testing something, released a faint trace of his own pheromones.
Soon, the air filled with a rich rose fragrance—soft, lush, and carrying a hint of invasive sweetness.
Yi Chao kept watching Shen Zui’s reaction, but Shen Zui showed no sign of abnormality, not even a twitch of his brow. He remained leaning there, eyelids gradually drooping lower.
Yi Chao was slightly taken aback. It seemed not only was he unresistant to Shen Zui’s pheromones, but his own seemed to have no effect on Shen Zui either.
But why was that?
By the time he looked up again, Shen Zui had already fallen asleep, breathing evenly, his expression relaxed.
Only then did Yi Chao stop painting. He slowly rose from the chair, took off his shoes, and stepped barefoot onto the soft carpet beside the sofa. The carpet swallowed all footsteps.
In the man’s dark pupils, it was as if two faint flames were burning.
Yi Chao knelt slowly before Shen Zui, raised his hand, and lightly touched Shen Zui’s nose bridge with his fingertips.
A faint blush gradually spread across his face, his gaze firmly captivated, lingering greedily on Shen Zui’s face, unable to look away.
So beautiful, so beautiful, so beautiful…
Such a beautiful skull made him want to hide Mr. Shen away, to make him belong only to himself.
Soon, he noticed a small piece of mango pulp still clinging to the corner of Shen Zui’s lips. Yi Chao reached out and gently brushed it away with his thumb.
The golden juice was slowly smeared.
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought.
He brought his finger to his own mouth.
His tongue lightly curled around it.
“Mmm.”
He murmured softly.
“So sweet.”
Since this facial structure was so exquisitely beautiful, what about the inside? Could it be just as lovely?
Yi Chao’s gaze slowly drifted downward, settling on Shen Zui’s lips. They were slightly red, slightly parted in deep sleep, breathing softly.
As if driven by some inexplicable impulse, he tentatively extended a finger, carefully probing into Shen Zui’s mouth.
But just then, Shen Zui seemed to feel somewhat uncomfortable, his brow furrowing slightly. His tongue moved unconsciously, just brushing against Yi Chao’s fingertip.
Yi Chao quickly withdrew his hand, afraid of waking him.
He looked down at his fingertip, now glistening with moisture, shimmering faintly under the light.
The next moment, as if losing control, he slowly brought that finger to his own mouth.
“Mm…”
Yi Chao murmured softly.
“Still sweet.”
By the time Shen Zui woke again, the sky outside the window had completely darkened.
He was momentarily stunned, only then noticing that Yi Chao’s jacket was draped over him, carrying a faint scent of paint and laundry detergent.
Shen Zui sat up, rubbing his neck.
“Ouch… why does my neck hurt so much?”
Perhaps hearing the movement in the studio, footsteps soon approached from outside the door.
Yi Chao walked in from outside, his tone gentle. “Mr. Shen, you’re awake.”
Shen Zui smiled somewhat sheepishly.
“Why didn’t you wake me? I’m really sorry.”
Yi Chao shook his head, not saying much more, but his gaze subtly lingered on the faint red mark on the back of Shen Zui’s neck.
His eyes stayed there for a moment.
Then, the corner of his mouth slowly curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
“Mr. Shen, the painting is finished. Come out and take a look. If there’s anything you’re not satisfied with, I can make adjustments.”
Shen Zui immediately perked up.
When he walked into the living room, he saw the painting placed in the center. In the painting, he was lying on his side on the sofa with his eyes closed. The lighting was soft, his contours were exquisitely detailed, and he looked peaceful and beautiful, almost like a sleeping beauty from a fairy tale.
Shen Zui was extremely satisfied. As expected of Yi Chao, even his handsomeness was captured so perfectly.
“Excellent, just like this. I really love it.”
Shen Zui stood there admiring it for quite a while, the more he looked, the more pleasing it became.
How could anyone in this world be so good-looking?
Perhaps only Jiang Songyue could barely compare to him.
“Alright, then we’ll be in touch later.”
Shen Zui stretched lazily. “It’s getting late, I should head back.”
Yi Chao looked at him, his eyes darkening slightly.
“Mm, alright.”
He said softly.
“Mr. Shen, see you next time.”
Shen Zui casually put on his shoes, waved his hand, and left directly.
At that moment, he completely failed to notice that his clothes were still left at Yi Chao’s place.
Nor did he realize that, from start to finish, Yi Mu seemed to have never reappeared.
The moment the door closed, the gentleness on Yi Chao’s face vanished instantly.
He turned and walked toward Yi Mu’s room, pushing the door open.
Inside, Yi Mu sat in front of the piano, a clear bruise on the corner of his mouth. He looked somewhat weak, yet still wore a lazy, cheerful smile.
“That angry?”
Yi Mu tilted his head to look at him.
“A Chao.”
Yi Chao walked forward, looking down at him with a gloomy expression.
“You went too far today, Yi Mu.”
But Yi Mu smiled and raised his hand, placing Yi Chao’s hand on his own neck. Then he gripped that hand and forcefully pressed it down, his Adam’s apple tightly squeezed.
The man, however, closed his eyes in pleasure, his breathing growing slightly ragged.
“I was just curious. What kind of person could make my brother care so much.”
He said, slowly opening his eyes.
“I have to say, your taste is really good.”
“The moment I first saw him—”
Yi Mu let out a low laugh.
“I liked him too.”
“Yi Mu!”
Yi Chao’s voice was slightly hoarse, clearly angry.
Yi Mu even felt the hand on his neck tighten noticeably, but he seemed to grow even more delighted, even somewhat unrestrained, letting out a soft moan.
The next second, Yi Chao abruptly pulled his hand back, his eyes filled with disgust.
“Don’t use me as a tool. You’re disgusting like this.”
Yi Mu laughed softly.
“I’m disgusting?”
He looked up at Yi Chao, a crazed light in his eyes.
“My dear brother. Who is it that made me into this disgusting state?”
He gently tapped the armrest of his wheelchair.
“This is what you owe me, Yi Chao. Outsiders think I became like this because I saved you in that car accident years ago.”
Yi Mu leaned back slowly in his chair, his tone turning light and airy.
“But what the truth really is, you know best yourself.”
Yi Chao’s fist clenched tightly.
“Shut up.”