Qin Wangye could no longer care about anything else. All logic and boundaries became blurred at this moment. He only saw Song Que trembling slightly, appearing very cold. After touching the tip of his nose, he slowly, bit by bit, pulled the man into a tight embrace.
It is unclear how much time passed before Song Que’s voice sounded, muffled, “Brother Ye, you are so warm.”
“Body heat,” Qin Wangye replied.
The rain streaks on the windows flowed down in rivulets. Everything around them was silent; it felt as if they were the only two people left in the world. Song Que’s reason gradually returned, followed by a sense of feeling at a loss. It sounded like a very trivial matter from their student days, but because he cared about it so much, he wondered what Qin Wangye might think.
Qin Wangye did not even need to think to know that Song Que must be feeling awkward. Song Que had been treated differently for too long. He was usually fine, but once he encountered someone or something he liked, he would develop a strong sense of being unworthy. Qin Wangye hoped that one day, Song Que would feel that their relationship was gentle and smooth, overflowing with longing and fresh vitality, rather than looking up cautiously with careful restraint. Qin Wangye’s gaze toward Song Que had never been directed downward. He had always been looking at him straight on, so he hoped Song Que would discover that they were perfectly capable of seeing each other as equals.
“Are you feeling better?” Qin Wangye asked.
“Mhm,” Song Que whispered. “Just now, I was…”
“It is nothing,” Qin Wangye interrupted. “Everyone has moments of sadness and frustration. This does not count for anything.”
Song Que was in no state to drive. Qin Wangye fetched a wool blanket to cover him and let Song Que stay in the backseat. Qin Wangye drove very steadily. Outside, the muffled sound of the rain became white noise that aided sleep. Song Que leaned against the back of the seat, one hand slipping from his knee, resting softly by his leg, his fingers long and pale. I will call a designated driver for myself once Brother Ye gets home, Song Que thought to himself.
The villa district where Qin Wangye lived was only about ten minutes away from Song Que’s place. It was even quieter here, with significant distance between the detached houses, each complemented by a private courtyard and swimming pool. Qin Wangye drove the car straight to the entrance.
Song Que woke up slightly. He saw Qin Wangye push the door open and step out, so he quickly folded the blanket, thinking of moving to the driver’s seat. To his surprise, Qin Wangye propped his coat over his head, pulled Song Que out, and led him straight through the front door. Song Que did not even have time to ask.
The lights in the entryway came on, revealing a low-key, luxurious black and white style. The high ceilings made the space look broad and majestic. Next to the sofa was a treadmill, and the open kitchen connected to the living room. On the small bar counter sat a bottle of wine, which Song Que recognized as the Petrus bottle he had gifted.
Qin Wangye took out a pair of clean slippers for Song Que. “Change into these.”
Song Que stood stiffly in place. After a pause, he spoke, “Brother Ye, it is too late. I will not stay.”
Qin Wangye had just taken off his rain-soaked coat. Hearing this, he turned around. “You are still planning to go home?”
“Otherwise?” Song Que asked.
Qin Wangye pointed to the clock on the wall. “It is one o’clock in the morning, and there is heavy rain outside. Is your state suitable for driving? My house does not eat people, so I hope President Song will just settle for one night.”
The last sentence was laced with a smile, clearly a joke.
Song Que could not help but curl the corners of his mouth. He changed his shoes and walked inside, where he could smell a faint woody scent in the air. Qin Wangye went to pour hot water and shouted, “Make yourself at home.”
Song Que walked over to the sofa and sat down. He had never imagined that one day he would be able to enter Qin Wangye’s private domain. The coffee table was translucent, and Song Que saw a cartoon cup featuring Doraemon with a label that read: Reserved for Chuan-ge.
Qin Wangye brewed hot tea. He had seen Song Que drink jasmine tea several times and thought he must like it, so he even tossed a few goji berries in.
“Thank you,” Song Que said, taking it first to warm his hands.
Qin Wangye adjusted the indoor temperature to be a bit higher.
Song Que looked at the red wine on the bar counter. “Does Brother Ye like to drink it? I will bring you another bottle next time.”
Qin Wangye had a high alcohol tolerance but was not passionate about it. He would take out this bottle of Petrus from time to time to have a taste; the aroma that lingered on his lips and teeth always reminded him of one person. Now, that very person was sitting right here.
“No need to bring more. This bottle is enough to last a long time.”
“Mhm?” Something was itching Song Que’s feet. He looked down and saw a pure white, fluffy ball.
Qin Wangye let out a light “tch.” “He sent it to me again. Does he really want me to raise it like a father?”
Song Que bent down to nudge it gently, only then discovering it was a tiny Angora rabbit.
“My younger brother’s,” Qin Wangye explained. “He probably does not have time because he went to a competition, so he brought it to me.”
“I am so busy every day, yet I still have to raise a rabbit.” Qin Wangye complained, but his movements in finding the rabbit food and pouring it out were very practiced.
Song Que was curious. “Brother Ye, are you not an only child?”
Qin Wangye pinched the Angora rabbit by the scruff of its neck and placed it next to its food bowl. “Qin Wangchuan. My uncle’s son, but now he is raised by my family.”
“You should have heard of the Yalan Lake plane crash two years ago.”
“Mhm.”
Qin Wangye’s expression was solemn. “My uncle and aunt were both on it.”
The passenger plane crashed, leaving no survivors. His uncle was seventeen years younger than Qin Wangye’s father, and since he had married and had children late, Qin Wangchuan was only five when they left. When Qin Wangye’s father heard the sudden tragic news, he did not even have time to grieve; he flew to Country A overnight to pick Qin Wangchuan up. The process was not smooth, either. His uncle’s businesses were mainly located there, and the complex family forces did not agree to him taking away Qin Wangchuan, the legal heir, always suspecting they had ulterior motives.
In the end, it was Qin Wangye who rushed over, and the matter was resolved. Qin Wangye hired top managers to handle the businesses there and drew a clear line with the various messy relatives. All the properties, stocks, and investments under his uncle’s name were sold at their highest prices, and the money was deposited in the largest local bank, waiting for Qin Wangchuan to come of age.
Song Que understood and looked back at the cup on the table. “So Chuan-ge is your younger brother.”
Qin Wangye also saw the cup and looked a bit disdainful. “A little brat who, after learning from others to call me Brother Ye, was not satisfied with that and insisted on calling himself a brother.”
Song Que chuckled. “He must really admire you.”
Qin Wangye did not refute him.
It was getting late, and Qin Wangye urged Song Que to rest. The guest room was right next to Qin Wangye’s. President Qin wore the expression of a perfect gentleman. “The bedding was newly changed by the housekeeper a day ago. If you need anything, call me.”
“Mhm.”
The guest room was meticulously furnished, with gray pajamas and a bathrobe hanging in the closet. Song Que closed the bathroom door and took a comfortable hot shower. Judging by Qin Wangye’s implication, Shao Fuguang and Gu Yushuo had both stayed here before, so their current relationship could certainly be called friends.
The bathrobe was slightly oversized. Song Que sat on the bed, drying his hair, when he saw a message Qin Wangye had sent three minutes ago: [Are you asleep?]
Song Que typed: [No, just got out of the shower and getting ready to sleep.]
Qin Wangye: [Do you want to drink some hot milk?]
[Brother Ye, I am done growing taller.]
Qin Wangye could not help but hum with laughter when he saw this message.