Although father and son talked late into the night, Han Yue still insisted on returning to Chu Ci’s place to sleep. By the time he got home it was already deep into the night.
In the bedroom, a small orange-yellow lamp was still on. Chu Ci lay on his side facing inward, the blanket slipping off his shoulder to reveal a smooth, pale nape. His body rose and fell gently with his breathing—calm and steady. Just looking at him gave one an immediate sense of warmth and comfort.
Han Yue took off his coat and quietly walked to the bedside, carefully lying down so as not to disturb the mattress.
He had never had the habit of showering before bed. In the military, surrounded by groups of men, as long as you weren’t crawling with dirt, it was considered fine. But Chu Ci was extremely particular about bed cleanliness—he insisted on showering before getting into bed, washing away all smell and dust, otherwise he would feel unwell all over, as if suffering from obsessive discomfort.
Han Yue did not compromise on principles, but he was willing to adjust in small matters of daily life. If Chu Ci was still awake when he came back at night, he would always try to smoke less, brush his teeth, and shower before getting into bed, so Chu Ci wouldn’t be bothered by discomfort while sleeping.
But if Chu Ci was already asleep when he returned, showering would wake him. Chu Ci was the type who, once awakened, found it hard to fall back asleep, and Han Yue didn’t want him to suffer a headache the next day. So sometimes he would just take off his coat and get into bed directly—after all, Chu Ci wouldn’t know while asleep.
Lying beside Chu Ci, Han Yue looked at the small patch of soft skin behind his ear and felt his thoughts drift. He couldn’t resist reaching out to gently stroke Chu Ci’s hair.
Under the orange glow of the lamp, the dark, glossy hair reflected a soft sheen, like cool silk slipping through rough fingers—an almost irritatingly pleasant sensation.
Outside the window, the neon lights of the late-night city shimmered. The window was slightly open, and a gentle night breeze stirred the curtains. In the distance, faint traffic sounds drifted in, like a tide slowly receding in the quiet night.
Satisfied, Han Yue leaned in and kissed Chu Ci’s hair, about to turn off the light and sleep, when Chu Ci suddenly moved and asked in a low voice, “…Han Yue?”
Just being called by name made Han Yue feel happy. He replied softly, “Mm. Go to sleep.”
But before he could finish enjoying that feeling, Chu Ci’s next words immediately doused him in cold water.
“Did you shower?”
“…Are you serious? It’s this late already! Be good, just let it go.”
Chu Ci rubbed his eyes, sat up, grabbed a pillow, and walked straight out without looking back.
“Where are you going?” Han Yue was startled.
“To the study.”
Han Yue immediately sat up. “Enough already! Fine, fine, I’ll shower. I’ll shower, okay? Damn it… coming home in the middle of the night and still not allowed to get into bed…”
Grumbling, he went to the bathroom and washed quickly—fast enough to resemble a battlefield operation. Within three minutes he was done and rushed out with water still on him. He had taken off all his clothes in the bathroom and only wrapped a towel around his waist. His body was lean and powerful, with faint scar marks along his waist and back.
Normally, this would have been a very attractive sight, but Chu Ci had already turned away and lay down, not even glancing at him.
Han Yue quickly climbed into bed and pulled Chu Ci into his arms under the blanket.
“Happy now?”
Chu Ci kept his eyes tightly shut and said nothing.
“You’re such a pain,” Han Yue muttered, then suddenly smiled. “Oh right, I’ve got something to tell you. I mentioned you to my father today, and he said I should bring you home to meet them this Sunday. What do you think?”
For a moment, Chu Ci gave no reaction at all. Then suddenly, he opened his eyes.
Han Yue, holding him from behind, couldn’t see his expression. Seeing no response, he asked again, “So? This Sunday, come home with me. My parents, my older brother and his wife will be there—no outsiders.”
After a long silence—so long that Han Yue thought he had fallen asleep—Chu Ci finally said softly, “Okay.”
“…Huh? You agreed?” Han Yue was overjoyed. “You’re coming to meet my parents?”
Chu Ci reached out and clicked off the light with a snap, clearly unwilling to say another word.
But Han Yue’s mood was not affected at all. He kissed Chu Ci in the dark and happily said, “Alright, sleep!”
The room fell into darkness. Silence surged in like a tide. The night stretched on like a long river, with distant traffic sounds drifting in like faint, blurred light along its banks.
At some point, Chu Ci opened his eyes and stared at an unseen speck of dust in the darkness, remaining silent for a very long time.
Han Yue’s good mood continued for several days, to the point that even his friends noticed something unusual.
On Saturday night, Pei Zhi called Han Yue to go out and play cards, but was unexpectedly refused outright.
“No. I need to cook a few dishes at home.”
Pei Zhi was shocked. “Just order takeout if you need food, or bring Engineer Chu out, I’ll treat!”
“Dinner’s already done. This is for tomorrow—bringing my partner home to meet my parents. I need to perform well.”
Pei Zhi was momentarily stunned before asking, “…How exactly are you planning to bringEngineer Chu to your house? Tie him up and throw him in the car?”
“Fuck you. Do I look like a bandit?” Han Yue snorted. “He’s going voluntarily. I didn’t force him.”
After a pause, Pei Zhi muttered, “…Good. That’s good. If he’s willing to go to your house… then treat him properly. Don’t keep yelling at him or hitting him like before…”
Before Han Yue could argue, Pei Zhi had already hung up.
Han Yue had always been good at cooking. That night, even after Chu Ci had gone to bed, he could still hear clattering sounds from the kitchen mixed with rich aromas of food.
The next morning, when he got up, he saw four large food boxes on the dining table:
One contained a stir-fry of wild mushrooms and pork cartilage—fat, glossy mushrooms and tender cartilage soaked in sauce.
Another held braised lamb leg, carefully prepared through frying, boiling, and braising; tender, rich, slightly spicy.
A third contained Xi’an-style lamb soup, thick and milky-white, with marrow-rich bones.
The last held a stack of scallion pancakes, layered and crisp in the Su-style flaky method, golden and fragrant with scallions.
While changing his shoes, Han Yue said, “Take these when we go to my house later. Say you made them.”
“…Why?”
“Buying stuff looks impersonal. My old man and the rest don’t lack anything—they just send staff to buy whatever they want anyway. Bringing empty hands looks bad. Homemade food is better—rare and thoughtful.”
Chu Ci pointed at the boxes, his expression stiff. “Han Yue, do you think your parents are stupid? You think they won’t recognize their own son’s cooking?”
“They won’t!” Han Yue said confidently. “I’ve never cooked at home.”
Just as he was about to open the door, he suddenly closed it again, turned back, lifted Chu Ci’s chin, and kissed him.
“Baby, I’ve only ever served you in my whole life.”[1]Universe please give me one Han Yue in this life minus the violent personality bahahaha jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2511304_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2511304_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });
Chu Ci shoved him away hard. Han Yue didn’t care and laughed, patting his face.
Early that morning, Madam Han was restless at home, constantly checking her appearance and the table setting. Han Qiang and his wife sat nervously at the table, while Old Master Han sat upright reading the newspaper with unusual composure.
“What are you still reading? They’re about to arrive!” Madam Han finally snapped after glancing at the clock. “It’s already this late—I’m calling Han Yue.”
“Sit down,” Old Master Han said, pressing her back into the chair. He sighed. “Getting anxious won’t help. This battle was bound to come sooner or later. If you want to blame someone, blame the good son you raised. He rejects proper young ladies, gets involved in messy affairs, and even forces others to go along with him. Truly a sin—”
He didn’t even finish the words “a sin,” when a guard knocked on the outer door and said in a low voice, “Report, Commander. Deputy Regiment Commander Han has arrived.”
Madam Han immediately stood up. Before she could even go forward to greet him, Han Yue pushed the door open with a loud swish, smiling, looking unusually cheerful.
Behind him, a young man followed into the dining room, staying about two steps behind. He had a calm, steady presence and a strikingly handsome face. He wore a steel-blue shirt and black suit trousers, dressed formally and neatly, with an air of scholarly refinement.
Although he wasn’t smiling, he remained perfectly polite. Upon entering, he first nodded to the commander and his wife, then set down a large plastic bag in his hand.
A servant quickly stepped forward to take it. Madam Han glanced inside and saw several full food containers—clearly homemade dishes brought from home.
Whether it was a mother-in-law judging a daughter-in-law or vice versa, the ability to cook always earned favor. Regardless of taste, the mere fact of cooking suggested diligence, obedience, and domestic competence.
Unaware of the truth, Madam Han assumed Chu Ci was the one who had made the food. In reality, Chu Ci barely ever lifted a finger at home—the one insisting on cooking was her hot-tempered, high-ranking son, Han Yue.
“Alright, let me introduce him,” Han Yue said. “This is Chu Ci, he works at the Metallurgical Research Institute. We’ve been together for over two years. This is my father, and this is my mother.”
He pointed to Old Master Han and Madam Han, then said to Chu Ci, “Just call them Uncle and Auntie.”
Chu Ci shook hands with both of them and said in a low voice, “Hello, Commander Han. Hello, Madam Han.”
Han Yue’s face immediately darkened.
Chu Ci was like this—naturally composed, deeply steady in temperament. Good upbringing shows in a person’s eyes, expression, movements, and posture, and Chu Ci was the model of restrained elegance in every gesture.
The moment Old Master Han shook his hand and spoke with him, he immediately realized the young man was not someone trying to curry favor with power. Most likely, he came from a respectable family. And seeing his polite yet distant demeanor, he also sensed that this visit was probably not Chu Ci’s own initiative—Han Yue was likely the one insisting.
Old Master Han sighed and, unusually gentle, said, “Sit down, sit down. Don’t stand, don’t be nervous.”
Meanwhile, Han Yue’s mother had slipped into the kitchen earlier to inspect the food in the containers. One look was enough—the seasoned Madam Han, after decades of comfort and refinement, was genuinely impressed by the dishes.
Her impression of Chu Ci improved immediately.
She didn’t believe Han Yue would truly spend his life with a man. At most, this was a temporary arrangement before marriage. And if his partner during these years was well-behaved, capable, and knew how to cook and take care of someone, then gender didn’t matter much. When Han Yue eventually married, they could simply compensate this person with money and send him off.
So when Madam Han came out of the kitchen, her expression had softened considerably. She smiled warmly and said, “Come, sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Chu Ci nodded but said nothing.
Han Yue then gestured to his elder brother and sister-in-law. “This is my eldest brother, Han Qiang, and this is my sister-in-law. My brother doesn’t go out much—you probably haven’t met him before. But he likes playing cards, so you two might have something to talk about.”
Han Qiang’s wife, Xiaoruo, had been secretly observing Chu Ci since he entered. She couldn’t understand homosexuality and clearly showed some disapproval in her expression, though she maintained decorum due to her upbringing. When introduced, she stood slightly and smiled politely. “Hello.”
But Chu Ci did not respond.
In fact, from the moment Han Yue said “this is my eldest brother Han Qiang,” Chu Ci’s gaze had locked onto Han Qiang.
For a split second, his entire body seemed frozen. His muscles tightened painfully. He couldn’t even lift his hand properly; a faint numbness spread from his fingertips due to rapid blood flow, slowly eroding his heartbeat.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. Blood surged violently through his mind, making his temples throb.
So much red—so much horrifying red. His vision seemed to be stained, unable to see anything clearly anymore…
“Chu Ci? Chu Ci! What’s wrong?”
Chu Ci jolted, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I felt a bit dizzy just now… sorry.”
Han Yue frowned in concern. “Did you not sleep well last night?”
Chu Ci shook his head, then reached out and shook Han Qiang’s hand. He forced a faint smile and said softly, “Sorry, I spaced out for a moment… Nice to meet you, Mr. Han Qiang.”
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