He had only just learned from the manager that that day was his birthday, and the moment he returned, he saw the birthday gift and the blessing card on the coffee table.
Liang Jiming naturally assumed this was a gift from the young master. He didn’t harbor a single shred of doubt.
Yao Zhen couldn’t explain it if he had a hundred mouths; explaining would only lead to Liang Jiming questioning their relationship all over again. He could only bite the bullet and let the misunderstanding stand.
Whatever, he thought. Jie won’t hold it against me if she’s missing one birthday present. Though, he was incredibly annoyed.
The young master flopped onto the sofa. Seeing Liang Jiming still looking down at the card, he gave the man a kick. “Hey, talk to me.”
Liang Jiming looked up again. “Your handwriting is quite beautiful,” he said.
“You don’t even know how to give a proper compliment,” Yao Zhen scoffed. “I went out of my way to order a custom gift for you two months in advance, and all you notice is whether my handwriting is good?”
Liang Jiming paused. “Really?”
Yao Zhen replied without a hint of a blush or a guilty conscience, “Well, obviously. What else would it be?”
Upon hearing this, Liang Jiming felt a subtle stir in his heart. He picked up the exquisitely packaged gift box and slowly opened it. Holding the simple yet elegant glass jar in his hand, he opened the lid and lifted it to his nose, inhaling a refreshing, cool-toned fragrance that seeped into his senses.
“It smells very good.”
“I had to pull a lot of strings just to find that master perfumer. Money doesn’t always work. It took a lot of effort to get him to agree to personally blend this bottle of aromatherapy oil for you—to help calm your nerves.”
Yao Zhen took credit for it through gritted teeth. “Just say it—am I good to you or not?”
Liang Jiming’s gaze landed on his face and stayed there for a moment. Previously, he had thought this young master was short-tempered, aggressive, and difficult to serve. But in reality, he wasn’t that hard to get along with. It was just a child throwing a tantrum; his nature was still good.
Liang Jiming seemed to understand why his pre-amnesia self had chosen such a benefactor. But thinking about how spontaneous, frank, and direct the young master was, his own deception seemed exceptionally immoral.
Yao Zhen felt his skin crawl under the stare. “You—”
Liang Jiming said gently, “Thank you, really.”
Yao Zhen: “…”
There’s no need to be so sentimental.
Wait, that’s not right. Isn’t this exactly what he wanted Liang Jiming to be like? The fish he was trying to catch was about to take the bait!
Yao Zhen was instantly delighted. He leaned in close, tracing a circle on Liang Jiming’s chest with his finger before giving it a firm poke. “At least you’re sensible.”
Xiao Wei chose the wrong time to enter. After knocking and swiping his card, he walked in right as this scene unfolded—the Young Master was leaning into the man’s arms as if he had no bones.
Liang Jiming calmly looked away, lowering his head to continue examining the birthday gift in his hand. Yao Zhen, completely unbothered, sat up and glared at the assistant who had just walked in.
Xiao Wei froze, unsure of what he had done wrong. Then he saw clearly what Liang Jiming was holding—the item that had already been opened. His mouth hung open as he groaned inwardly.
Young Master, you’re the one who messed up trying to play both sides. What does it have to do with me? I’m so innocent.
Seeing him standing there like a wooden block made Yao Zhen angry. He snapped to chase him out, “There’s nothing for you here, you can leave.”
Xiao Wei asked hesitantly, “Young Master, do you still want to buy something else…”
To send to that Miss Shen?
Yao Zhen was fuming. Buy my foot.
Liang Jiming asked, “Buy something else? Like what?”
Yao Zhen turned back and forced a fake smile at him. “Do you want a birthday cake?”
Liang Jiming asked, “Do you want to eat some?”
Yao Zhen thought to himself, Eat? I’d rather poison you. “It’s your birthday. If you say you want it, we’ll get it.”
Liang Jiming had no interest in celebrating birthdays, but he didn’t want to brush off the young master’s good intentions: “Alright.”
There was no need to go out and buy a cake; the hotel restaurant could simply have the chef make one. Yao Zhen loved sweets, so more than half of the six-inch birthday cake ended up in his stomach.
Liang Jiming took two bites symbolically before putting down his fork. Seeing this, Yao Zhen looked up and licked the cream from the corner of his mouth and said. “I think I forgot to give you a chance to make a wish.”
Liang Jiming said with amusement, “You’ve almost finished the cake, and you only remember now?”
Yao Zhen blinked. “It’s the same if we make up for it now. Go ahead, make a wish.”
No candles, no birthday song—just asking someone to make a wish out of thin air. The young master’s romantic cells were clearly underdeveloped.
Liang Jiming said, “Do you want me to give the chance to you?”
Yao Zhen found it bizarre. “It’s your birthday, and you’re giving the wish to me?”
Liang Jiming said indifferently, “Since we’re in this kind of relationship, it’s all the same.”
Yao Zhen grumbled internally, Who’s in “this kind of relationship” with you? But aloud, he said, “Then I’m really going to make it.”
Liang Jiming nodded, signaling for him to speak.
Yao Zhen’s eyelashes fluttered. To Liang Jiming’s surprise, he said softly, “I want you to fall in love with me again.” After speaking, he lowered his head with feigned awkwardness and continued to eat large mouthfuls of cake, as if hiding a hint of bashful annoyance.
“…” Liang Jiming asked him, “Do you mind very much that I forgot you?”
Without looking up, Yao Zhen grumbled, “Try it if I forgot you instead. Could you not mind?”
Liang Jiming was momentarily speechless; if the roles were reversed, he probably wouldn’t mind much at all. Sensing that Liang Jiming was feeling guilty and at a loss for words, Yao Zhen was overjoyed—wasn’t this just too easy?
Late at night, Liang Jiming returned to his room. He stopped by the bed and, possessed by some unknown impulse, opened the nightstand drawer and took out the ring Yao Zhen had given him. He rubbed the ring between his fingers; the texture was still unfamiliar. He guessed he had no special emotional connection to the ring, yet he couldn’t help feeling troubled when he remembered the words Yao Zhen had whispered with trembling eyelashes earlier.
He tossed the ring back and pushed the drawer shut.
After recovering from his fever, the young master had become lively again. Likely bored with no one to play with, he knocked on the door from time to time—once to ask if Liang Jiming wanted a midnight snack, and another time to drag him into playing games.
Liang Jiming patiently humored him but neither ate nor played, reminding him that he had just recovered and shouldn’t be overeating or staying up late; he should go to bed early. Yao Zhen didn’t like being controlled like he was by his own father, so he gave Liang Jiming a kick and ran off.
The room finally grew quiet. Liang Jiming flipped through a few pages of his book but couldn’t really focus. He picked up the bottle of aromatherapy oil Yao Zhen had given him, opened the lid, and inserted the reed diffusers. A light, woody fragrance drifted out—it actually smelled quite nice.
However, the calming effect wasn’t particularly noticeable. He had a lingering headache that night, with a persistent buzzing in his brain, yet he still couldn’t remember anything. Unable to sleep, he simply got up. He checked his phone; it was almost midnight.
Leaving the room, he saw the light was still on in Yao Zhen’s master bedroom. He didn’t pay it any mind and pushed the door to go out onto the balcony.
Yao Zhen had been playing games so intensely he’d lost track of time. In the middle of the night, he went out to the living room wet bar to find water and was startled by the shadow on the balcony. He thought a thief had entered the room, but then he saw it was that jerk Liang Jiming, neither sleeping nor turning on the lights, acting all mysterious in the dead of night.
“What are you doing here?”
Yao Zhen pushed open the glass door. The sea breeze hit him, making him shiver, and his face was full of dissatisfaction.
Liang Jiming turned around, leaning against the railing with a cigarette between his fingers.
Yao Zhen frowned, saying with disgust, “You’re smoking behind my back? It stinks.”
Liang Jiming asked him, “I didn’t smoke before?”
Yao Zhen snapped, “No.”
He hated smelly men who smoked the most. That group of idiots he hung out with never dared to light up in front of him. He hadn’t expected Liang Jiming to be a smoker too—Jinghe really must be blind.
Liang Jiming used an empty coffee cup on the side table as an ashtray, casually flicking the ash and looking at the huffing Yao Zhen standing before him. His addiction wasn’t strong; he had just bought these on a whim a few days ago, only lighting one when his head throbbed. The young master didn’t know, likely because he had hidden it well in the past.
“You, you, you—no smoking,” Yao Zhen pointed accusingly. “I hate the smell of smoke. If you smoke again, I’m divorcing you.”
Liang Jiming looked down and suddenly let out a soft chuckle.
Yao Zhen demanded, “What are you laughing at?”
Liang Jiming crushed the cigarette in the cup and spread his hands. “I’m done.”
“You’re not allowed to smoke ever again,” Yao Zhen emphasized. “You must quit.” He had no intention of dating a man covered in the stench of tobacco—not even for a fake relationship. It lowered his standards.
Liang Jiming asked, “Would the Young Master really have the heart to divorce me? Didn’t you just make a wish for me to fall in love with you again?”
Yao Zhen: “…” You talk too much damn nonsense.
Liang Jiming found his speechless, choked-up expression quite amusing. “Does the Young Master truly like me?”
Yao Zhen was impatient. “Didn’t you already ask that?”
Liang Jiming pressed further, “How much do you like me?”
Yao Zhen squeezed out that fake smile again. “Do you want me to confess to you?” Before Liang Jiming could speak, he followed up: “Don’t even think about it. I told you, not until I forgive you.”
“What if I never remember?” Liang Jiming asked directly. “If I fall in love with you all over again, will you forgive me then?”
His tone was so serious that Yao Zhen was genuinely caught off guard. This dog of a man was quite the smooth talker; this must be exactly how he coaxed Jinghe with sweet words!
“…We’ll talk about that after you actually fall in love with me again.”
Liang Jiming seemed particularly interested in the topic. He asked again, “How did we used to date? Can you tell me?” He truly found it hard to imagine himself dating someone; even if he was just humoring this young master, he was somewhat curious.
Yao Zhen naturally wouldn’t tell him—mostly because he couldn’t. “Think about it yourself. Don’t ask me. It makes me sad just talking about it since I’m the only one who remembers.”
Liang Jiming stared into his shimmering eyes, his voice softening a few degrees. “That wish of yours… I’ll try my best to make it come true.”
Yao Zhen gave a dry laugh. “Oh.”
Taking this reaction as shyness, Liang Jiming suddenly tossed the thought of the cigarette aside and leaned forward, bringing his face right up to Yao Zhen’s.
Yao Zhen froze.
Liang Jiming watched the subtle shift in his expression. He truly just wanted to give it a try. He tilted his head slightly, pressed his lips forward, and lightly touched them against Yao Zhen’s.
Yao Zhen: “…………”
What did this bastard just do?