Hello.
Pei Che locked eyes with him, unhurriedly slipping Min Zhuozhou’s phone into his own pocket as he replied in a somewhat cold voice.
Whether it was Fu Zhen’s imagination or not, the look Pei Che cast downward at him bore an indefinable sense of scrutiny, as if edged with a faint touch of displeasure, or perhaps simply because the man possessed such an imposing presence that he naturally projected an oppressive gravity.
Now this is interesting…
Fu Zhen narrowed his eyes imperceptibly. Having been doted on since childhood due to his exceptionally high IQ, he felt no intimidation toward this man whose status and position far surpassed his own by several orders of magnitude. Instead, he found himself with enough intrigued energy to spare to quietly size him up,
Unlike Min Zhuozhou’s deliberately cultivated, almost ineradicable, vivid and exquisite beauty, Pei Che possessed remarkably proper and handsome features. His skin was smooth and soft as velvet, yet his frame carried a powerful build, displaying the healthy, firm texture of a youthful physique.
What was even more extraordinary was that despite staying for several hours in this loud, bustling bar street, Pei Che bore not a single trace of the scent of alcohol. He looked just like an ordinary man who had just stepped out after working late in a CBD office tower, making a special trip over to take his partner home.
Yet the prideful coldness lingering between his brows pushed him out of the realm of ordinary men, automatically assigning him to the peak elite tier of this city.
Fu Zhen scrutinized him for a few seconds with a critical, even harsh gaze, compelled to admit that aside from Pei Che’s subpar attitude toward him, one could hardly find a single fault in the man.
Thus, Fu Zhen asked in a tone as friendly and innocent as possible, You’re here to pick up Zhuozhou, right? He drank a bit too much and looks like he can barely walk straight. Should I help you carry him to the car?
Thank you, but no need.
Pei Che was a man of very few words. He shifted his gaze away and settled his eyes on Min Zhuozhou, noticing him leaning back against the sofa cushions in a thoroughly relaxed and sprawled posture. Upon sensing the gaze falling on him, Min Zhuozhou even flashed a bright, radiant smile at him and waved a hand in greeting.
It was clear at a glance that he hadn’t taken his warning of don’t drink too much to heart at all.
Pei Che ignored Min Zhuozhou, yet he had no desire to let Fu Zhen touch him either.
He quietly observed Min Zhuozhou for a moment, then suddenly, without a word, bent down and scooped him up under the crook of his knees, lifting him in a princess carry. Wrapping his own suit jacket over him to shield against the wind, he looked ready to carry him all the way to the car.
Min Zhuozhou was taken aback for a second, instinctively looping his arms around Pei Che’s neck. His warm breath unintentionally brushed against the man’s throat, his voice steeped in a soft, lazy, drunken tone: What are you doing? Put me down.
The tickling sensation of the warm breath leaning close made Pei Che’s neck itch slightly. He patted Min Zhuozhou’s back neither too heavily nor too lightly, warning in a low voice: Keep moving around and I’ll throw you onto the ground.
Min Zhuozhou was entirely innocent, but in his drunken state, he was far more submissive than usual. He sensibly shut his mouth and obediently let himself be carried.
After walking a few steady steps, Pei Che glanced back slightly, shooting a look at Fu Zhen, who stood frozen in place with wide eyes: Aren’t you leaving?
Fu Zhen froze for a second before snapping back: Ah, right, leaving. I’ll leave right away.
Watching their departing backs, he thoughtfully licked the tip of his tooth, unable to fully make sense of the relationship between these two for a moment… It didn’t seem like the minding their own business without crossing paths relationship Min Zhuozhou had described, yet it didn’t feel like the seamless intimacy of ordinary lovers either. There always felt like something stood between them.
Unable to figure it out, Fu Zhen simply stopped thinking about it. He tidied himself up and shot a glance at the bartender, intending to ask about the tab.
Normally, bartenders in high-end establishments like this were exceptionally perceptive, able to read several layers of meaning into a guest’s single glance. However, the young bartender serving them today was clearly lacking in professional focus. His eyes were glued to the backs of Min Zhuozhou and Pei Che, his mind completely absent and his cheeks flushed deep red.
It wasn’t until Fu Zhen cleared his throat in slight displeasure that the young bartender’s entranced soul was dragged back to reality, apologetically informing him that the bill had already been settled.
Fu Zhen rolled his eyes upward and stepped outside.
Night had grown deep, but the area outside the tavern remained boisterous and lively. Sharp-eyed as he was, Fu Zhen quickly spotted a Bentley parked at a temporary roadside spot on the riverside avenue. Reasoning that out of the line of cars, only that one matched Pei Che’s status, he walked over with a clear goal and opened the car door.
Pei Che arrived holding Min Zhuozhou, bending down to place him onto the front passenger seat. Whether out of gratitude for Fu Zhen pulling the door open in advance, or merely out of polite courtesy, he asked where Fu Zhen lived and if he needed a lift.
Fu Zhen had no intention of acting as a third wheel who burned himself out just to light up others. Besides, in a place like the bar street, finding a cab was never an issue, so he declined without a second thought.
Pei Che did not insist. He pulled the seatbelt over and leaned half his body into the cabin to fasten it for Min Zhuozhou.
Min Zhuozhou was not as drunk as Pei Che imagined, at the very least, he wasn’t so out of it that he didn’t know how to buckle a seatbelt. Yet he didn’t refuse Pei Che’s help. He watched Pei Che with a warm, sluggish gaze, leaning close to his ear as the man leaned in, murmuring a lazy thank you.
Pei Che gave him a heavy, dark look without saying anything. He stood up, walked halfway around the car, sat in the driver’s seat, and started the vehicle.
Min Zhuozhou rolled down the car window and waved his hand toward Fu Zhen, who was standing by the curb getting ready to hail a ride: Get home safely then. Should we hang out again next time?
Fu Zhen originally intended to agree, but catching sight of Pei Che’s cold, stern expression, the words about to slip from his tongue halted right at the edge. He changed his tune with earnest severity: Drink less next time, will you? Needing someone to come pick you up, how embarrassing.
Taking it as an agreement, Min Zhuozhou gave him a lighthearted, innocent smile.
Fu Zhen reached out to flick the stray bangs dangling over Min Zhuozhou’s forehead back to the proper side, then said, Hurry up and get lost. Next time you drink this much without saying a word, I won’t stay with you. What, got something on your mind?
What could possibly be on my mind? Min Zhuozhou muttered, glancing at him. Don’t talk nonsense.
Fine, then I guess I was overthinking it.
Fu Zhen kept an eye on Pei Che’s expression as he answered, sure enough catching the sight of his lips tightening slightly, a clear sign that he cared.
Fu Zhen smiled imperceptibly, then opened the ride-hailing app on his phone, humming a tune as he walked toward the agreed pickup point.
Min Zhuozhou leaned against the car window, glancing back toward the direction Fu Zhen had walked off to. Had it been a normal, sober time, he wouldn’t have failed to hear that Fu Zhen said those words intentionally for Pei Che’s ears. But right now, his alcohol-steeped brain was heavy, sluggish, and incapable of proper thought. He simply rolled up the window and closed his eyes to rest.
He truly was drunk after all. Min Zhuozhou had originally forced his eyelids open to watch the scenery outside, but before long, he quietly closed his eyes completely.
Pei Che turned his head to look at Min Zhuozhou, seeming as though he had something to say, but he couldn’t bear to disturb him. He drove the car smoothly and quietly away from that overly noisy street, leaving the faint, misty river waves and the excessive, superficial noise of Ningcheng far behind them.
Arriving home, Pei Che carried Min Zhuozhou inside, kicked open the half-closed bedroom door, and laid him down gently on the bed.
Losing the temperature transferred from a human heat source, Min Zhuozhou knitted his brows slightly in discomfort. He forced his eyelids open to a narrow slit without much strength. A hint of moonlight mixed with the night fell into his eyes, stimulating his long, curved eyelashes to quiver softly.
He was awake after all.
Pei Che?
Min Zhuozhou’s memory had a few gaps. Calling out uncertainly, he propped himself up by his arms to sit up, brushing all the scattered hair off his forehead to the back of his head. He sat on the bed in a slight daze, recognizing that he was already home.
Following the moonlight with his vision, he saw Pei Che standing in front of the bed with arms crossed, his brows knit tightly, his mood unreadable.
Min Zhuozhou hadn’t touched so much alcohol in years. Drinking this much all at once inevitably brought on a headache; the nerves throbbing from his temples all the way into his hairline pounded painfully, making his forehead ache almost unbearably.
Got a cigarette? Min Zhuozhou felt he could barely endure it. After a moment of hesitation, he asked Pei Che in a soft voice.
Pei Che’s brows furrowed even deeper. His eyes carried a touch of scrutiny as he shook his head, the gesture unclear as to whether it meant don’t have any or won’t give you any.
Min Zhuozhou hummed a soft mm and didn’t ask further. He felt he was indeed drunk; otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked Pei Che for a cigarette.
Ever since signing the marriage agreement, Min Zhuozhou rarely touched alcohol or tobacco. However, while a drinking habit was easy to quit, a nicotine craving was hard to dispel. Sometimes he would carry a cigarette with him, not lighting it, but merely sniffing it to satisfy his craving.
Pei Che bent down and cupped Min Zhuozhou’s face with his fingers. His cool fingertips rubbed against the skin without much force. His eyes were heavy and dark, yet his tone was quite flat: Look at you, quite the achiever tonight, smoking and drinking all in one evening.
Ah, I got caught, Min Zhuozhou let him touch his face, without a single trace of panic at being caught. Then what should we do? Can Mr. Pei pretend he didn’t see anything?
The movement of Pei Che’s fingertips grew slightly firmer. His hand slid downward until it almost gripped the other man’s jaw. Drawing Min Zhuozhou closer to himself, he scrutinized him in silence for a moment before asking: Because of that Fu Zhen?
Min Zhuozhou still followed his force and allowed his actions, though he raised a brow with a slight touch of frivolity: What?
Wanting to smoke, and drinking so much alcohol… is it because you met Fu Zhen today?
Pei Che shouldn’t have asked this. Over these past five years, their relationship had been distant and detached; there was truly no need to inquire so deeply.
Yet in these five years, he had never seen Min Zhuozhou drunk, nor had he ever witnessed the inadvertent submission and vulnerability he displayed when intoxicated.
The thought that Fu Zhen had seen Min Zhuozhou like this, and was even accustomed to it, made him feel deeply uncomfortable inside… And the fact that the great Researcher Fu could type in his password correctly on the very first try: what kind of relationship was that?
How could a long-separated reunion be so familiar and relaxed?
Just thinking about it felt like a lump caught in Pei Che’s throat.
Min Zhuozhou’s expression turned somewhat peculiar. He neither said yes nor no, simply looking at him quietly with those beautiful eyes.
Taking this unrestrained silence as tacit agreement, Pei Che forcefully lifted Min Zhuozhou’s face with his fingers, saying in a quiet voice: You’re not allowed to see him anymore.
The other man asked noncommittally: Why?
For your health.
Noticing Min Zhuozhou’s lack of cooperation, Pei Che lightened his grip slightly. He pressed his thumb against the flush-red corner of Min Zhuozhou’s lips from the alcohol, his voice sounding like a plain statement, yet also like a unique sort of threat: Smoking and drinking are harmful to your health.
Min Zhuozhou couldn’t help himself; a flash of amusement darted quickly through his eyes.
Pei Che caught it, his brows knitting together once more: What are you laughing at?
Nothing.
That look of Min Zhuozhou’s was no different from teasing a child. Having been specially trained by Min Hang, he was intimately familiar with this subtle, indefinable possessiveness of Pei Che’s, but he rarely gave in to it, nor did he indulge him.
Only when he grew tired of playing did he lean his body back, letting himself sink into the soft mattress. In a few brief words, he clarified: My head hurts, which is why I wanted a cigarette to ease the craving. And drinking that much alcohol wasn’t because of Fu Zhen either, there’s absolutely nothing going on between him and me.
At first, a hard-to-detect trace of displeasure surfaced on Pei Che’s face because Min Zhuozhou had suddenly pulled away from his side. But soon, his attention was drawn elsewhere as he asked, Your head hurts?
A headache after drinking too much is common sense, Mr. Pei, Min Zhuozhou added. And a cigarette can relieve pain, that’s common sense too.
Pei Che snorted coldly, completely dismissive of such an assertion.
Fine then, if I won’t smoke, I won’t smoke, Min Zhuozhou let out a soft sigh. I’ve pretty much quit over these years anyway. When have you ever seen me smoke?
Pei Che didn’t respond, nor did he stubbornly push the question further. He lowered his eyes slightly, taking in the sight of Min Zhuozhou lying defenselessly upon their shared bed.
The silk shirt had slipped out from the tight waistband of his trousers, hanging loosely on his frame and silvered by the moonlight with an oil-painting-like luster. The fabric followed the fluid lines of his muscles, outlining his smooth skin and flushed neck, so breathtakingly handsome that one couldn’t tear their eyes away.
Perhaps beautiful shouldn’t be used to describe a man, but describing Min Zhuozhou with it fit perfectly.
An unnamed impulse surged inside Pei Che for no clear reason, suddenly welling up from deep within his chest and burning all the way to the nerves that were usually cold to the outside world. Tonight he hadn’t touched a single drop of alcohol, yet he found himself helplessly consumed by a longing for Min Zhuozhou.
It really shouldn’t be like this.
In an instant, countless thoughts flashed through Pei Che’s mind.
Then, a quiet kiss landed upon Min Zhuozhou’s brows and eyes. Min Zhuozhou opened his eyes halfway, hearing the man who had just criticized his fallacy say to him:
A kiss can relieve pain.