Going Home
Jiang Zhuoye didn’t learn until the next day—from the staff—that it was Bo Yun who had carried him out of the screening room.
When he heard this, he was eating breakfast. He raised one eyebrow high, a grape between his teeth. The shock made him bite down too hard—pop—and sweet juice spilled out.
At that moment, Bo Yun walked over.
He was wearing a casual shirt and sat down across from Jiang Zhuoye.
His gaze brushed over Jiang Zhuoye’s face without meaning to. Even though Jiang Zhuoye had gotten drunk and passed out in the media room last night, it was obvious he’d slept well—he looked refreshed and radiant.
By contrast, there was a faint shadow under his own eyes, though it was barely noticeable.
Seeing Bo Yun, Jiang Zhuoye felt inexplicably awkward. Logically speaking, Bo Yun had gone out of his way to apologize yesterday, so it wouldn’t be right for him to keep putting on airs or acting like he wanted to draw a clear line between them.
But on one hand, he had embarrassingly dug up memories of his first love in front of Bo Yun yesterday.
On the other hand, just a few days ago in the bathroom, facing Bo Yun, surrendering completely under his hands…
No matter how he thought about it, it was mortifying.
Especially since last night, stirred up by painful memories, he hadn’t exactly been nice to Bo Yun.
Asking him to take the initiative and talk to Bo Yun today felt worse than killing him.
Thinking this, Jiang Zhuoye quickly lowered his head and took a sip of his avocado milkshake to hide his fluster.
This was deadly.
A few days ago, when he and Bo Yun were in a cold war, he didn’t have to face him directly. Fueled by resentment, he’d managed to push this awkwardness to the back of his mind.
But now they were sitting face to face. Bo Yun was holding a silver knife, spreading butter on a scone. His fingers were clearly defined in the sunlight—long and fair.
Jiang Zhuoye only glanced once before remembering exactly what those hands had done to him a few days ago.
In that damp, white bathroom.
The sink water rippled, Bo Yun’s cuffs soaked through.
Those pitch-black eyes had stayed locked on him—cold, calm—but his lips had been flushed red by the steam, adding a hint of color to an otherwise restrained, aloof face.
Jiang Zhuoye suddenly choked on his milkshake, coughing several times, even the tips of his ears burning.
Bo Yun glanced at him.
Their eyes met.
Jiang Zhuoye thought Bo Yun might mock him, tease him about how old he was to still choke on a milkshake.
But Bo Yun just looked at him for a few seconds, then handed him an edged handkerchief.
“You’ve got milkshake on your mouth,” Bo Yun said calmly, under Jiang Zhuoye’s puzzled gaze.
“Oh…”
Only then did Jiang Zhuoye take it and wipe his mouth carelessly.
He licked his lips, hesitating over whether he should say something to Bo Yun as a small gesture to break the ice.
Before he could decide, Bo Yun spoke again.
“We’ll be flying back later. You don’t have anything unfinished on the island, do you?” Bo Yun asked.
Jiang Zhuoye froze for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”
It was just a honeymoon—what could there be to handle?
“That’s good.” Bo Yun lowered his head and cut into a fried egg, the runny yolk spilling slightly. “The plane will be waiting for us around ten. After we get back, we’ll start following the premarital agreement—dating, having dinner together, attending each other’s important events.”
Bo Yun looked up and met Jiang Zhuoye’s eyes.
“I’ll try my best not to make things difficult for you. I hope you’ll do the same.”
Jiang Zhuoye set the handkerchief aside and stayed silent for a moment.
Dating Bo Yun—just imagining it felt unreal.
But then he remembered the signature he’d put on the agreement, and looking at Bo Yun’s calm, businesslike expression across from him, he nodded casually. Whatever he was thinking inside, he looked composed on the surface.
He buried that trace of guilt and embarrassment he felt toward Bo Yun deep down.
“Sure,” he said lightly, smiling at Bo Yun. His beautiful peach-blossom eyes shone in the sunlight. “Hope you keep your word.”
Two hours later, Jiang Zhuoye boarded the private plane with Bo Yun.
After boarding, Bo Yun kept working as usual. Because of the honeymoon, a pile of meetings had built up, all waiting once he got back.
Jiang Zhuoye, as always, watched his animation.
The difference was that this time, he accidentally flicked a walnut toward Bo Yun.
The walnut shell hit Bo Yun right between the brows, like a bullet.
The secretary reporting to Bo Yun froze instantly, hardly daring to breathe.
But Bo Yun only frowned slightly, glanced at the unusually sheepish Jiang Zhuoye beside him, and said nothing.
“Continue,” he said to the secretary.
Jiang Zhuoye stared in surprise, unable to believe Bo Yun’s reaction.
Oh? A change of character, huh?
He popped another walnut—one peeled by a flight attendant—into his mouth, but inside he was itching to try cracking one himself again.
Ten hours later, the plane finally landed.
Bo Yun rushed straight to the company, while Jiang Zhuoye headed home.
After all, he’d gotten married and gone on a honeymoon. At the very least, he had to go back home for a visit.
Bo Yun didn’t care much about formalities, but hearing that Jiang Zhuoye was going home, he hesitated.
He thought uncertainly that partners did have an obligation to accompany each other home.
He looked at Jiang Zhuoye. “Do you want me to go with you?”
Just as Jiang Zhuoye was about to refuse, Bo Yun added, “Never mind. You go first. After I finish dealing with work, I’ll visit your family. Pass my greetings to your brother and parents.”
With that, he got into the car, leaving Jiang Zhuoye no chance to refuse.
“…”
Watching Bo Yun’s car disappear into the distance, Jiang Zhuoye thought: for a fake marriage, you’re really going all in.
But he couldn’t be bothered to care. He told the driver in front, “Let’s go. Take me home.”
Jiang Zhuoye received a warm welcome at home.
His parents fussed over his face, pinching and kneading it.
His brother reacted the strongest, pulling him over and inspecting him from head to toe, scrutinizing him like an experiment to see if he looked worn out or thinner.
But no matter how he looked, Jiang Zhuoye was bright and energetic. Even with daily sunbathing on the beach, his skin hadn’t turned dark—just lightly honey-toned, and it would fade back in a couple of days.
Liang Jie laughed as she watched her two sons and said to Jiang Zhuoye, “Your brother’s been losing his mind at home, saying he dreamed you were being abused by Bo Yun. He called you, you said you were having fun, and he didn’t believe you—insisted you were under Bo Yun’s ‘tyranny.’”
She shot a disgusted look at her eldest son.
Jiang Zhuoye was speechless and rolled his eyes at his brother. “Even if it were Bo Yun, that accusation would be too much. Is he crazy or something, abusing me? Planning to make the news? And you think your brother’s an idiot? Wouldn’t I fight back?”
Jiang Xu still argued stubbornly. “Maybe he did it while you were asleep…”
“Idiot.” Jiang Zhuoye laughed and kicked his brother lightly. “You’d better say that to Bo Yun’s face later.”
“Later?” Jiang Xu froze, then reacted. “Bo Yun’s coming over?”
“Yeah,” Jiang Zhuoye said, biting into a kiwi. “He said out of courtesy, after the honeymoon he should come back with me and pay a visit.”
He still didn’t quite get it and muttered, “Probably his grandpa’s idea again. He seems really busy—went straight to the company after landing, said there was an emergency meeting. If I were him, I wouldn’t go to this trouble.”
Jiang Xu frowned slightly, sensing something off.
Bo Yun did respect his grandfather, but he’d already gone along with him by getting married. Did he really need to follow even these details?
He didn’t think Bo Yun was that obedient.
Bo Yun looked proper and polished on the surface, the ideal heir everyone envied, but anyone who’d dealt with him knew he was rebellious to the core.
Meanwhile, Bo Yun chaired an emergency meeting at the company, then went to his grandfather’s place.
At the Bo family estate, his grandfather reclined in a chair and asked, “Did you enjoy your honeymoon?”
Bo Yun was peeling an apple for him. His hands were steady, the peel unbroken, like a long red ribbon.
But when his grandfather asked that question, the peel snapped and fell into the glass bowl.
His lashes lowered slightly, and images flashed through his mind.
Every single one was Jiang Zhuoye.
Jiang Zhuoye sunbathing on the beach. Jiang Zhuoye playing tennis. Jiang Zhuoye looking impatient while doing glassblowing… Jiang Zhuoye leaning close to someone else, colorful specks on his face.
And Jiang Zhuoye in front of him, eyes unfocused, lips slightly parted, looking at him helplessly.
He said nothing, silently cut the apple into small pieces, and handed it over.
Avoiding the question, he said, “Here. Eat some fruit after your meal and remember to take your medicine. I’m going to Jiang Zhuoye’s place later, so I won’t stay. Don’t stay up late, Grandpa.”
Bo Jiaheng studied his face for a few seconds, then chuckled.
“Seems your honeymoon wasn’t too bad after all,” he said slowly.
Bo Yun expressionlessly set the fruit plate down and stood up.
“I’ll get going. Rest well.”
He left his grandfather’s room calmly, while behind him came his grandfather’s rare, cheerful laughter—and teasing.
“When you visit the in-laws, behave yourself. Don’t let Zhuoye dislike you.”
Bo Yun pretended not to hear.
…..
After leaving his grandfather’s place, Bo Yun went to Jiang Zhuoye’s home with carefully prepared gifts.
He didn’t stay long. He knew the Jiang family was polite to him, but not close. Staying would only be awkward.
So he simply had dinner with Jiang Zhuoye and his parents, then took his leave.
This time, when he left, Jiang Zhuoye went to see him off.
In the night wind, Jiang Zhuoye looked at Bo Yun with some confusion. He thought this person was really good at putting on an act—or maybe manners and restraint were carved into his bones.
Bo Yun’s performance at the dinner table just now had been flawless. When his parents asked how their honeymoon had been, Jiang Zhuoye had actually felt a little nervous, afraid Bo Yun would complain.
But Bo Yun didn’t tell a single truth. He only talked about some fun things on the island.
For example, he said Jiang Zhuoye went diving and came back up with a starfish stuck on his head.
He also talked about Jiang Zhuoye glassblowing, but having no patience and throwing it aside halfway through.
He also said Jiang Zhuoye made friends on the island. Since he himself was often busy with work, Jiang Zhuoye thoughtfully went out to hang with those friends instead.
…
All of it was technically true, but heavily polished.
His parents listened with sighs of emotion, clearly relieved, looking at him with warmth, as if they felt he had finally grown up.
But even though Bo Yun played his role perfectly in front of his parents, and their relationship wasn’t as tense as that night on the island, they still had nothing to say to each other.
Jiang Zhuoye stood at the garden gate, silently watching Bo Yun, unsure whether he should also put on an act and say something like “drive safely.”
Luckily, Bo Yun never expected any warmth from him.
He stood by his car, looking at Jiang Zhuoye in loose home clothes. Below the long pants, a thin ankle showed—pale and bare.
Then he lifted his gaze and said, “I’ll come pick you up in a few days.”
It sounded like a reminder, or maybe he was just making conversation. After saying it, he didn’t wait for a reply and turned to get into the car.
As the car slowly drove off, he still glanced back in the rearview mirror, as if by accident.
Jiang Zhuoye hadn’t gone inside yet, his head tilted slightly, looking confused.