Shu Ci couldn’t see which book he was pointing at. “Do you want to come over?”
The child shook his head. “He won’t let me.”
“Hm?”
“He won’t let me touch his things either.”
Shu Ci assumed Lu Xianyan was just worried the kid might mess things up. He didn’t know that Lu Xianyan disliked anyone touching his belongings—except him.
He paused, then realized belatedly, “I guess I shouldn’t casually touch his stuff either.”
“It’s fine. You’re the only friend he’s ever brought home. If you take it, he won’t hit you.”
…That sounded a little strange.
Shu Ci asked which book he wanted. It turned out the child wanted the middle school Chinese textbook.
Already previewing middle school material?
Shu Ci helped take it down and handed it over. The child flipped through it casually, and a slip of paper fell out.
Shu Ci bent down to pick it up. It was the kind of essay paper they often used at school. A single line had been written in pencil, but the handwriting was too faint to make out clearly. He could only see the words “want to.”
The child noticed the note too and took it from Shu Ci’s hand, about to examine it carefully—
When a large hand pressed down on it. The entire book was taken away.
Lu Xianyan’s face was calm. “Why are you up here? Finished your homework?”
Tsk. The pressure felt exactly like a homeroom teacher checking assignments.
But the kid was, after all, from the Lu family. He wasn’t afraid. “I’m previewing.”
“Use your tablet to preview.”
The child said “Oh” and headed downstairs.
Shu Ci had just taken the orange juice Lu Xianyan handed him when, from several meters away, the child shouted back:
“Are you dating early? Brother and I both saw the note in your book!”
Shu Ci hadn’t expected that at all. His hand trembled, and he spilled the orange juice all over his clothes.
Lu Xianyan reacted quickly and caught the cup.
The drink was cold, so Shu Ci wasn’t hurt—just sticky and uncomfortable. Before heading to the bathroom, he noticed Lu Xianyan’s face had darkened.
“I took the book. Don’t scold him, okay?”
Lu Xianyan’s expression softened a little. “Mm.”
Reassured, Shu Ci went to the bathroom.
He had just finished washing his hands when Lu Xianyan came in with clothes, telling him to change.
Shu Ci wanted to change alone. He hesitated and glanced at Lu Xianyan—but the other man showed no intention of leaving.
In the end, Shu Ci had to change in front of him. Every pinkish inch of skin was clearly seen.
Lu Xianyan’s clothes were far too big on him.
They hung loosely. A small patch of snow-white shoulder was exposed, his wrists and fingers hidden inside the sleeves. He looked like a delicate doll in a display window.
Lu Xianyan naturally began washing the stained clothes.
Shu Ci felt awkward and didn’t dare stride back to his room to rest, so he just stood there watching.
The bathroom was quiet. Only the sound of running water could be heard.
It was then that Lu Xianyan suddenly spoke.
“It wasn’t someone else who gave me that note.”
Shu Ci had already forgotten about it and responded blankly, “Mm?”
“The note you saw—I wrote it.”
Shu Ci truly had never heard of Lu Xianyan liking anyone in middle school. There was only that one time before the final year exams when their homeroom teacher asked them to write their wishes and hang them on the wishing tree behind the mountain. No one knew what Lu Xianyan had written, but Zhou Mingran had teased him obnoxiously:
“Un-der-stand… you? Tsk, who do you want to understand?”
Shu Ci had thought Lu Xianyan was finally developing feelings and had even leaned in to look.
Later, when Shu Ci felt terrible, he would sometimes confide in him.
“Do you think anyone will buy my book?”
“They will.”
Shu Ci had only wanted some emotional reassurance, but Lu Xianyan answered very seriously. “You’ve always been amazing.”
Hearing those words from Lu Xianyan was rare. Shu Ci’s ears flushed red. He buried his face in his arm, voice muffled like honey bubbling.
“Y-you… think I’m amazing?”
The things Lu Xianyan listed—honestly, Shu Ci barely remembered them himself.
Yet Lu Xianyan remembered for so long.
“You’re so good. So hardworking. Everyone will like you.”
Shu Ci froze.
He felt like he was about to overheat from the praise.
Would they?
Was he… really that good?
Maybe, in Lu Xianyan’s eyes, he was just a very cool person.
Shu Ci curled his lips upward, pretending not to care, but inside he was thrilled.
He asked Lu Xianyan if he wanted fruit. Then offered him snacks.
When a human praises a kitten, the kitten secretly rubs against him.
The book was successfully published—and sold far better than expected.
Fu Zhiheng, as the chief editor, organized a celebration banquet.
Naturally, Shu Ci was happy and couldn’t resist drinking.
Unfortunately, his alcohol tolerance was poor. After just two small glasses, a pink flush spread across his cheeks, making him look even more dazed than usual.
He talked more than usual, his voice carrying a faintly coquettish tone. The whole evening, he was unbearably charming.
Fu Zhiheng kept staring, feeling like he might get drunk too.
It was late. Everyone else had tactfully left in groups, leaving only the two of them.
Fu Zhiheng was about to call a car to send Shu Ci home.
But Shu Ci shook his head and waved his phone. “A friend is coming to pick me up.”
“Your dead-faced friend?” Fu Zhiheng said bluntly.
Shu Ci frowned and corrected him. “That’s rude. He’s not dead-faced. He just doesn’t smile at you.”
Normally, Shu Ci would never say something like that.
Fu Zhiheng’s back stiffened with irritation. He let out a cold laugh. “You’re that protective of him? Didn’t you used to chase me? Why did you stop?”
Outwardly calm, inwardly he was drumming with nerves, already preparing to say, “Maybe I’m not that straight after all—want to try?”
But Shu Ci didn’t answer.
Fu Zhiheng looked at him.
Shu Ci’s head was lowered. His lashes trembled violently. He bit his lip, breathing fast and uneven.
Two seconds later, Fu Zhiheng realized—
Shu Ci’s condition was acting up.
He instinctively grabbed his shoulders, trying to rouse him. “Shu Ci?”
Shu Ci didn’t respond. His lip had been bitten red, leaving a clear mark.
Fu Zhiheng’s body temperature surged.
What should he do? Offer his hand for Shu Ci to bite?
The thought came—and he acted on it first.
Fu Zhiheng leaned down, closing the distance.
The next second, he was shoved away violently—
The sweet scent lingering at his nose was replaced by another, colder fragrance.
Fu Zhiheng stumbled back two steps and steadied himself.
He saw Shu Ci scooped into the arms of the man behind him with one hand.
Shu Ci’s frame looked too small, nearly a head shorter. Held in that embrace, he looked like a fragile little animal that could be lifted up at any moment.