At night, the engine was turned off. The yacht floated on the sea, drifting with the current. The noise and heat of the day faded away, replaced by a cool sea breeze—a rare moment of comfort.
Yao Zhen walked up to the flybridge, leaning over the railing to look down. Ben and his female companion were playing around in the deck pool, having a great time. His buddy looked up and saw him, calling out, “Young Master, come down and join us!”
Yao Zhen refused. “Piss off. I’m a decent man, and my wife is still here.”
Ben: “Tsk~”
Liang Jiming came up with two freshly mixed cocktails and handed one to him. Yao Zhen tasted it. This time it was a Peach Martini, also very sweet.
“Why did you mix such a sweet and cloying drink again?” Yao Zhen complained. “Is it because you want to drink it?”
“This drink suits you.” Liang Jiming tilted his chin and looked at him seriously. “It’s sweet and spicy, just like you.”
Damn, where did he learn that? Yao Zhen thought to himself, warning him, “Don’t start learning bad habits. You’re getting slick-tongued.”
“Your friend Ben said it.” Liang Jiming spoke casually and took a sip of the drink in his own glass. As the liquid went down his throat, the taste was hard to describe. He shifted the topic naturally. “Are you not going for a swim?”
“You’re all making fun of me,” Yao Zhen shook his head. “I’m not going. They’re playing like lovebirds in the water; why would I go? Am I that kind of lewd person?”
Liang Jiming asked, “Are you drunk?”
From the moment they stepped on the boat until now, he had been drinking continuously. Even if he wasn’t drunk, he was definitely feeling a bit tipsy.
“No way,” Yao Zhen shook his head, refusing to admit it.
Liang Jiming exposed him. “The young master actually doesn’t know how to swim, does he?”
“…” You knew and still said it. How annoying.
Yao Zhen stood up lazily and reached out to touch Liang Jiming’s face. “No making fun of me, or I’ll break up with you.”
Liang Jiming pulled down his misbehaving hand. “Just behave yourself.”
Yao Zhen ignored him, withdrew his hand, and walked to the bow of the ship to look at the night view. There were no obstructions here, and the view was wide. The night sky, dotted with stars, pressed close. The sea was calm under the night, with starlight rippling gently on the surface.
The wind was a bit chilly, and the surroundings were very quiet. Only the sound of water lapping against the hull could be heard. Yao Zhen also quieted down, leaning against the railing and looking up at the night sky, taking occasional sips of his drink. His usual flamboyant aura was gone, replaced by a lazy and relaxed vibe.
Liang Jiming stood half a step away from him, watching him for a moment before downing his drink.
“Why are you staring at me?” The young master turned around, his smiling face glowing in the night. “I know I’m good-looking, but you don’t have to be that mesmerized.”
Liang Jiming looked at him quietly, the starlight sinking into his deep eyes. After a long while, he asked softly, “I can’t look?”
…You’re already looking, so why even ask?
Yao Zhen’s thoughts were a tangled mess of cobwebs and static. He tried to push against Liang Jiming’s shoulders, but his muscles felt like melted jelly. “You… you’re the one being a hooligan,” he slurred, his voice losing its edge and turning into a soft, velvety mumble.
Liang Jiming didn’t move. He remained hovering over him, his weight a steady, grounding presence amidst the swaying of the yacht. The scent of the “Peach Martini” was still clinging to Yao Zhen’s breath, mixing with the faint saltiness of the sea breeze.
“I’m the hooligan?” Liang Jiming’s voice was a low, dangerous vibration in the dark. “Who was the one rubbing my chest just now? Who was the one who insisted on a ‘honeymoon’ and dragged me into this room?”
Yao Zhen blinked slowly, his long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. He felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of heat that had nothing to do with the alcohol. He looked up at the silhouette of the man above him—the sharp jawline, the broad shoulders, and those eyes that seemed to burn even in the pitch black.
“It’s… it’s just research,” Yao Zhen stammered, his fingers twitching against Liang Jiming’s abdomen. “I have to know if my ‘wife’ is staying in shape. High-end branding, remember? Consistency is key.”
Liang Jiming let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sigh. He leaned down further, his chest grazing Yao Zhen’s. “Then has the Young Master finished his inspection? Or do you need to check the ‘amber core’ the perfumer mentioned?”
Yao Zhen’s heart skipped a beat. He felt the rough texture of Liang Jiming’s palms against his wrists, pinning him to the silk sheets. The playful arrogance he usually wore like armor was stripped away, leaving only a raw, pulsing tension.
“You’re… you’re really annoying,” Yao Zhen whispered, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he unconsciously arched his back, closing the tiny gap between them.
The silence in the cabin became heavy, broken only by the rhythmic thudding of their hearts and the distant, muffled sound of Ben’s music on the deck. Liang Jiming’s gaze dropped to Yao Zhen’s lips, which were slightly parted and flushed from the booze.
“Young Master,” Liang Jiming murmured, his nose brushing against Yao Zhen’s. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I might actually start acting like the hooligan you claim I am.”
Yao Zhen’s brain was screaming danger, but his body was rooted to the spot. He felt a strange, reckless urge to see just how far this polar glacier could melt.
“Then do it,” Yao Zhen challenged, his voice barely audible. “Let’s see if you’re actually ‘impossibly reliable’ or just all talk.”
Liang Jiming didn’t need a second invitation. He tightened his grip on Yao Zhen’s wrists and lowered his head, capturing those defiant lips in a kiss that was no longer about hiding or pretending. It was hungry, possessive, and entirely real.
The yacht rocked gently on the waves, a silent witness to the moment the Young Master finally lost the game he had started.
Yao Zhen suddenly had an idea. He took out his phone and opened the camera.
He leaned in close, his arm brushing against Liang Jiming’s: “Let’s take a picture.”
Without waiting for Liang Jiming’s consent, the young master held up the phone, adjusting the angle with the brilliant starry sky as the background.
“Look at the lens. No, wait—just look at the stars.”
Yao Zhen’s voice was right at his ear, his breath warm: “Give me a smile… Forget it, you don’t have to smile. It’s actually fine like this.”
Liang Jiming didn’t look at the lens. He turned his head away, his gaze falling on the blurred light and shadow where the sea met the sky.
Yao Zhen pressed the shutter. At this moment, the starlight was so gentle and the sea breeze so quiet that even the cold lines of Liang Jiming’s face softened a bit.
Yao Zhen couldn’t wait to look down at the photo.
Under the vast starry sky, the two of them stood side by side, leaning against the railing with cocktails in hand. His own face was clear in the light, smiling a bit foolishly, while only a small portion of Liang Jiming’s profile was dipped in the dim light. You couldn’t see his expression clearly, but his tight jawline was relaxed, and those eyes—previously bottomless—reflected the starlight, revealing a kind of nearly gentle focus.
Yao Zhen clicked his tongue and saved the photo.
The people on the deck finished their “lovebird play” in the water, and Yao Zhen went back to his buddy to continue drinking.
Liang Jiming stopped worrying about Yao Zhen’s business and returned to the room first. Since he had nothing else to do, he simply opened a laptop on the boat to write the proposal.
The noisy music and the sound of talking and laughing outside drifted in from time to time. Liang Jiming typed slowly on the keyboard, looking somewhat distracted.
Yao Zhen had clearly grown drunk again, shouting with a slurred tongue: “Stop kissing in front of me. It’s an eyesore. It’s not like I don’t have a partner…”
Ben laughed at him: “Then go call your partner out and give him a kiss for me to see. Don’t just talk without practicing. He’s hiding away and not giving you any face~”
Yao Zhen cursed: “Scram.”
Liang Jiming felt a bit annoyed listening to these messy sounds. This yacht was said to be expensive, but the soundproofing wasn’t great. He wanted to go grab the drunk guy and bring him back, but he hesitated as he stood up, feeling like he didn’t really have the standing to do so.
The young master had said it before—he hadn’t forgiven him yet.
Yao Zhen didn’t return until after midnight. He stumbled into the room in the dark, drunk, while Liang Jiming was already in bed. The yacht wasn’t large and only had two bedrooms, so they naturally slept together. Yao Zhen wasn’t very happy about it, but since he was high on alcohol and his head wasn’t clear, he didn’t think too much about it.
After quickly taking a shower in the bathroom, the young master climbed onto the bed and crawled into the blankets. He hadn’t even realized he’d touched a heat source when his hand pressed against Liang Jiming’s chest muscles and rubbed them a few times. Heh, they’re quite firm.
The next second, his wrist was caught and pulled down. He tumbled into the bed and was pinned down firmly. Liang Jiming hovered over him and said crossly: “Don’t move.”
The drunkard refused to listen. His other hand slid from Liang Jiming’s chest all the way to his abs: “You don’t wear clothes to sleep. Shameless…”
Liang Jiming’s voice grew even deeper: “How many times have you slept with me? Did you not know before that I don’t like wearing clothes to sleep?”
It wasn’t that he was wearing nothing; he had a pair of long pants on his lower half and was just used to sleeping with a bare chest.
Yao Zhen’s eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness. He clearly saw the teasing look in Liang Jiming’s eyes and blinked his eyelashes slowly in a dazed reaction.
“…Don’t be a hooligan.”
Liang Jiming grabbed both of his hands at once, pinning them: “Who’s being a hooligan? Who crawled in here and started touching me randomly?”
Yao Zhen played dumb: “I’m drunk.”
Liang Jiming didn’t buy it: “Being drunk isn’t an excuse for acting like a rogue.”
The young master simply gave up: “What’s wrong with a little touching? You’re my ‘wife’, I can’t touch you? I’m touching.”
Liang Jiming was about to lecture him further when a faint sound suddenly came from upstairs—a woman’s intermittent moans, the ambiguous sound of skin hitting skin, followed by the rhythmic creaking of a bed.
“…”
Yao Zhen’s brain was still fuzzy and hadn’t processed it yet: “What’s that sound?”
Liang Jiming was silent for a moment, then lowered his voice: “What do you think that sound is?”
The soundproofing on this crappy yacht was indeed bad enough. Ben and his partner’s master bedroom was on the floor above, and those face-reddening noises were drifting down from the room upstairs.
Prompted by Liang Jiming’s question, Yao Zhen actually pricked up his ears and listened seriously for a while: “…”
The commotion upstairs grew more intense, over and over. Alright, now he was completely sober.
It was so freaking awkward.
Especially since Liang Jiming was still pressing down on him, his breath right against his ear. Yao Zhen instinctively noticed that this guy’s breathing was a bit heavy. He cursed inwardly—this dog man can even get horny to this?
He reached out his leg and kicked.
Liang Jiming anticipated his reaction, moving quickly to press down and grab his ankle: “You still want to move?”
Originally, it was nothing, but this young master was moving and rubbing against him under him without any restraint. He was a normal man, not some saint.
Yao Zhen was going crazy. Something was poking his leg! Scram! Scram!
“Don’t you damn well go into heat!” The young master cursed fiercely.
“Since we are lovers,” Liang Jiming spoke, his voice a bit raspy but his tone steady enough, “Is it strange that I would have a reaction to you?”
In his mind, Yao Zhen cursed this bastard’s ancestors for eighteen generations.
If I had known you could actually have a reaction to men, I never would have gotten involved in this kind of relationship with you!
“Don’t touch me,” the young master said, exasperated. “I said I haven’t forgiven you yet.”
Liang Jiming completely failed to realize the shock and embarrassment in his heart and said deeply: “Shut up.”
Yao Zhen: “Scram!”
In the darkness, the atmosphere fell into a delicate deadlock, while those annoying noises from upstairs continued.
“…I don’t want to, let go of me.” Yao Zhen was the first to soften, losing his nerve.
Liang Jiming didn’t say another word. He pressed against him, struggled for a moment, and finally got up in defeat and went into the bathroom.
Listening to the sound of water coming from the bathroom, Yao Zhen turned his back and pulled up the covers.
Playing dead.
The result was that he tossed and turned all night, staring with open eyes and never falling asleep. Those two upstairs had too much energy, who knows how many rounds they went through the whole night. They really weren’t afraid of dying from exhaustion.
Finally, near dawn, it quieted down upstairs. Only then did the young master fall into a hazy sleep before his nerves collapsed from the torture.
This sleep lasted until noon.
He stretched his back and pushed open the glass door of the room. Liang Jiming was outside on the deck smoking a cigarette; the yacht had already sailed back to the pier.
Hearing the movement, the man with the cigarette in his mouth turned around and looked him up and down: “Awake?”
“…” Yao Zhen felt a bit awkward. This man had left the room after coming out of the bathroom last night—did he stay up all night?
“I told you that you’re not allowed to smoke. What’s wrong with you?” The young master scolded him unhappily, trying to shift his own slight unease.
Liang Jiming crushed the cigarette in the ashtray on the table and said, “Ben gave it to me. I’m stopping.”
Yao Zhen thought about it and didn’t ask whether he had slept last night or not, nor did he bring up those awkward things again. He looked away: “Let’s go, go eat something.”
Yao Zhen turned and walked first, and Liang Jiming followed naturally.
He had curled up on the living room sofa last night and only fell asleep in the latter half of the night. It wasn’t that he really had some kind of idea about this young master, he just understood one thing.
He had a reaction to men.
He really was gay.
It seemed there was nothing unacceptable about it.