Meng Lingyao let out a cold sneer, pulled a set of pajamas from the closet, and headed to the bathroom to wash up.
He took a hot bath to wash away the exhaustion of the day. The hot water left his skin flushed, especially his cheeks, which were glowing pink. Facing the mirror, he ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.
When he pushed the door open and stepped out, he saw Qi Zhongjing’s back. The man stood by the window with his arms crossed, a tall and straight silhouette.
With broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs, the muscles beneath his shirt bulged slightly. Even from just a back view, he exuded a powerful aura.
Heh, what are you standing guard for? Stop posing!
He rolled his eyes, only to lock gazes with Qi Zhongjing as the man turned around.
After Meng Lingyao had entered the bathroom, Qi Zhongjing had lost his composure. He had been pacing the room like a spinning top, unable to settle down.
Yaoyao is taking a bath in my house…
The thought made his heart anything but calm.
Especially when the faint sound of splashing water drifted out. Knowing exactly what the person inside was doing, Qi Zhongjing had forced himself to walk to the window. He was staring outside, but his eyes were unfocused; his mind was entirely occupied by what was behind him.
Hearing the door open, Qi Zhongjing turned. The moment he saw Meng Lingyao, he couldn’t help but swallow hard. Meng Lingyao’s face was flushed like a succulent peach—that crimson hue was mesmerizing. The body wrapped in the oversized pajamas was likely the same color as his face.
Gulp…
Meng Lingyao was exceptionally beautiful, with a countenance so striking that every smile or frown commanded attention. He was like a living source of light.
My fragrant, soft wife. Qi Zhongjing restrained himself over and over, feeling a sudden warmth in his nose. His footsteps felt a bit unsteady as he went to wash up himself.
If he looked any longer, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t turn into a wolf.
As he passed Meng Lingyao, he caught the scent of the body wash on him.
So fragrant!
He couldn’t resist taking a few extra breaths, like a feline facing catnip, utterly captivated.
Meng Lingyao, on the other hand, felt no such ripples of emotion. In his eyes, the cold and noble Qi Zhongjing merely spared him a few glances before heading straight to the bathroom.
Yep, that condescending, scrutinizing gaze. That familiar, loathsome feeling.
That constant implication that he was a head lower than the other man made him extremely uncomfortable.
Once the man was in the bathroom, he walked over to the massive bed and examined it for a while. It was huge—big enough for two people to roll around on. He looked at it gloomily, trying to identify which side Qi Zhongjing usually slept on.
Since it was impossible to tell, he simply picked a side at random, pulled back the covers, and climbed in. He rested his hands on his stomach, eyes closed, lying there peacefully.
Right now, I am a corpse. Peaceful. Amen.
He thought he was mentally prepared, but when the moment actually came, Meng Lingyao felt an impulse to retreat. His closed eyelashes trembled slightly, betraying the fact that he was not as calm as he looked.
Why is that guy so fast!
In such a short time, did he even wash properly?!
He seriously suspected the man had just splashed some water on himself and walked out.
Before long, the door opened. Footsteps, soft and light, approached from a distance and finally stopped beside him. He felt a tug on the duvet, and the mattress dipped as someone climbed on.
Click! The light was extinguished.
The room plunged into darkness as the curtains closed automatically.
Meng Lingyao heard the shallow sound of breathing beside him. It was a soft sound, but in his ears, it was deafening. His hands instinctively clenched into fists, and his entire body became rigid.
In the darkness, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, unmoving.
There was actually a vast distance between the two of them—enough space to open a “Mixue Bingcheng” shop. It was more than enough to fit another two people.
In contrast to Meng Lingyao’s high alert, Qi Zhongjing was feeling blissful. Sharing a bed and a pillow made his heart race with excitement. At the thought of who was lying next to him, Qi Zhongjing’s eyes sparkled in the dark.
Fragrant, soft… hehe.
Meng Lingyao’s breathing was somewhat unstable, as if an invisible guillotine were hanging over his head, ready to drop at any moment.
This feeling kept his nerves taut, keeping him in a state of high alert.
Minutes and seconds ticked by. After an unknown amount of time, Meng Lingyao heard Qi Zhongjing’s breathing become steady and slow, as if he had fallen asleep.
?! Just sleeping!?
What is Qi Zhongjing playing at!
He intentionally rolled over with a significant amount of noise, but the breathing pattern beside him remained unchanged. Meng Lingyao reached out and clicked on the bedside lamp. The dim yellow light illuminated the room. He saw Qi Zhongjing lying on his side facing him, eyes closed and quiet. Using the light, he waved his hand; the shadow of his hand danced across the room, but the man didn’t react at all.
Is he asleep? Meng Lingyao didn’t know, but he undoubtedly relaxed a bit. Being constantly tense was incredibly draining.
“He’s got a mental problem,” he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath.
Is it okay to just sleep like this?
That was undoubtedly a good thing. Relaxing, Meng Lingyao turned off the light and lay back down. Combined with the excellent support of the mattress, the hour for sleepiness had arrived.
Drowsiness hit him. Meng Lingyao grew tired; once that consciousness set in, he began to drift off until he fell into a deep sleep.
His breathing went from hurried and messy to finally steady.
Qi Zhongjing, who Meng Lingyao thought was asleep, waited a long time after the other’s breathing slowed before opening his eyes. In the darkness, there wasn’t a hint of sleepiness in those eyes, which were hidden from view.
He shifted closer. Meng Lingyao didn’t react. He pulled the man into his arms. Meng Lingyao remained sound asleep, completely unaware.
Holding him in his embrace, with his arm around his waist, Qi Zhongjing let out a satisfied sigh. The person he had pined for for years was in his arms. Their burning body heat transferred between them; in this moment, they were incredibly intimate.
“Mine…”
Truly, so fragrant.
The sleeping Meng Lingyao felt as though he were being coiled by a python. He couldn’t break free; he frowned in his sleep and kicked a few times, but it provided no relief.
…
Meng Lingyao always thought he was a good sleeper who didn’t toss and turn.
But now, the situation was wrong.
Location: The bed in the second-floor bedroom of Qi Zhongjing’s house. Characters: Qi Zhongjing and himself. Situation: Two men were huddled together in extreme intimacy, like intertwining vines.
He had slept well last night and was fully rested, so upon waking up, it took him a moment to realize where he was.
He didn’t have trouble sleeping in new places; he could sleep anywhere and usually slept quite well.
But the moment he opened his eyes, he felt something was off. His leg was hooked over something hard, his waist was being held, he was nestled in someone’s chest, and his head was pillowed on someone’s arm.
Given where he lay before falling asleep and who was next to him, it was obvious who this person was.
“?…”
Once his brain processed this, Meng Lingyao jerked backward. He made a large movement with a frown, but the hand at his waist actually pulled him forward. The hand he had been pillowed on pressed against his head, holding him even tighter. What was more infuriating was that the fellow Qi Zhongjing actually nuzzled the top of his head.
“Sleep a bit longer…”
Meng Lingyao seemed to hear Qi Zhongjing’s drowsy mumble.
It was hair-raising, like seeing a ghost.
Meng Lingyao felt like his scalp was about to explode. Amidst that overwhelming aura, he felt only suffocation. He was being held tightly by Qi Zhongjing like a giant stuffed doll.
Qi Zhongjing was holding him. He was being embraced by Qi Zhongjing.
Meng Lingyao tried to lift his leg off Qi Zhongjing’s, but it was pulled back up, forcing him to keep it draped there. The man’s palm even brushed against his thigh.
Having experienced this first thing in the morning, Meng Lingyao was like a kitten with its fur standing on end. He pried Qi Zhongjing’s hand away, moved his leg down, and even tried to kick him, though Qi Zhongjing’s hand blocked the kick.
He rolled over and slapped the light on. The room suddenly brightened from the darkness, the light a bit piercing. He squinted as his eyes adjusted.
Qi Zhongjing felt a pang of regret. He had woken up earlier than Meng Lingyao. With his beloved in his arms, he had had sweet dreams all night and was exceptionally well-rested.
Qi Zhongjing feigned grogginess as he looked at the fully awake Meng Lingyao. “Lingyao, aren’t you going to sleep a bit longer?”
That “Lingyao” was uttered with such lingering tenderness and deep affection.
Faced with Qi Zhongjing’s “old married couple” style of questioning—sounding like the domestic chatter of a normal couple—the creeped-out Meng Lingyao gave a cold snort. “It’s late. President Qi might not be busy with official business, but I’m swamped. I can’t compare to your leisure.”
Meng Lingyao’s barbed words didn’t affect Qi Zhongjing; he only felt regret that his “treasure” had left his embrace.
Meng Lingyao’s hair was a messy bird’s nest. His hair was on the longer side, and he had previously dyed it deep blue to keep up with trends. After many washes and new growth, it had faded into other colors.
He scrambled off the bed, straightened his messy pajamas, ran his fingers through his hair a few times, and headed to the bathroom with a sour face. His footsteps carried a hint of someone fleeing in panic.
Qi Zhongjing pushed open the bathroom door to see Meng Lingyao with a mouth full of toothpaste foam, turning his head to look at him. His eyes were wide and glaring—exceptionally cute.
Even the way he rolled his eyes was incredibly endearing.
Qi Zhongjing seemed possessed this morning, smiling at him radiantly. That expression was truly punchable.
He’s sick! There’s a hole in his brain!
Meng Lingyao cursed inwardly, rolled his eyes, and stopped paying attention to him.
Qi Zhongjing watched for a moment. A bristling Meng Lingyao was indeed cute, but to avoid teasing him too much, he went downstairs to wash up and, incidentally, had breakfast delivered.
…
In the walk-in closet, Meng Lingyao randomly picked out a suit. It was exceptionally well-fitted, as if it had been tailor-made to his measurements. It was frustratingly perfect.
He chose a light beige and black casual blazer, paired with a leisure shirt featuring a complex pattern inside. He didn’t choose a tie, as that would be too formal.
Standing before the full-length mirror, he used some styling gel to slick his semi-long hair back, creating a simple look. Meng Lingyao admired his appearance: wild, unrestrained, and cynical.
“Today, you are consistently handsome and as dashing as ever!”
Much more handsome than that guy Qi Zhongjing. He snapped his fingers at the mirror, admired his own beauty, and nodded with satisfaction.