Shen Qi quickly regained his composure. He tossed the chicken wing—which was charred beyond recognition—aside and continued grilling. This time, he was successful; brushed with honey, the wings turned a beautiful golden brown and emitted a delicious, smoky aroma.
As Lin Ruohuai took one, he thought to himself: So he does know how.
He really was doing it on purpose.
Sometimes Shen Qi was unpredictable; there was no clear boundary between his happiness and anger. One might call it acting on a whim, but it felt more like self-abandonment—as if he didn’t even know what he was doing and was relying entirely on instinct.
Lin Ruohuai suddenly looked up at him and asked, puzzled, “Why did you want to know my nickname?”
“They all call you that.”
Lin Ruohuai froze, tilting his head in confusion. “What’s wrong with them calling me Xiao Huai?”
“Don’t you get tired of hearing it?” Shen Qi placed more grilled meat on a porcelain plate; there was a mountain of it, all intended for Lin Ruohuai.
“…”
Lin Ruohuai was speechless. Impressive. If that actually counts as an excuse, then if he got “tired of living,” could he just drop dead on the spot?
Pah, pah, pah. He spat out the unlucky thought and took it back.
“Tired or not aside, what does that have to do with my nickname?” Lin Ruohuai still hadn’t figured it out. Shen Qi wasn’t going to wiggle out of this.
“Because it’s a nickname only I should know.”
Lin Ruohuai opened and closed his mouth, find it somewhat funny, like he was coaxing a child. “Why can’t others know it?”
Shen Qi was about to burn the meat again. “Do you want them to know?”
Lin Ruohuai blinked. “Why would I want them to know?”
Shen Qi immediately deflected, his gaze sweeping over Lin Ruohuai’s greasy lips. “So, why did you tell me?”
“Because you asked.”
When Shen Qi looked down, the curve of his eyelashes and the corners of his eyes were elegant, like a carefully choreographed movement. “I asked, and you told me. Therefore, you were willing, proactive, and it belongs only to me. Others don’t deserve it.”
“…”
Lin Ruohuai was choked up. He turned his head and spat a bone into a trash bag.
Shen Qi glanced at the bone but didn’t show any disgust. He simply remained silent, staring, which made Lin Ruohuai feel a bit creeped out. He quickly wrapped the bone up, hid it, and threw it into a large trash can that would be hauled away later.
Various scents wafted through the air. Shen Qi adjusted his wheelchair to face Lin Ruohuai. “Why don’t I have anything to eat?”
As he spoke, without waiting for a reaction, he picked up his chopsticks. Lin Ruohuai instinctively stuffed the remaining half of his wing into his mouth, stripped the meat off, and spat the bone out in one go.
Shen Qi’s chopsticks froze in mid-air.
Realizing he had overstepped, Lin Ruohuai stood up obediently, like an elementary school student.
Thinking of something, he went over to Shen Qingyi’s side to grab some carrots and greens, feeding them to Shen Qi bite by bite.
Lin Ruohuai: “Is it good?”
“What do you think?”
“It’s good… Ah, another bite.”
Shen Qi’s temple twitched slightly as he swallowed with a flat expression.
“Have some water.” Lin Ruohuai was used to taking care of patients.
As if choked by the wind, Shen Qi turned his head and suppressed a few coughs. He then steadily took the cup, his brow furrowed slightly.
Lin Ruohuai watched him and couldn’t help but curl his lips. The small emotions Shen Qi occasionally leaked while sick were actually quite cute.
…
The aftermath of the barbecue was handled by Uncle Chen. Arranging the sleeping quarters, escorting the young masters back, and cleaning up the trash—Uncle Chen took care of it all alone.
Lin Ruohuai tried to help but was rejected; the reason being that his clumsiness would only hinder progress.
He didn’t dare argue. He secretly grabbed a wrap and pushed Shen Qi into his room. After Shen Qi washed up and changed into clean pajamas, Lin helped him into bed.
Lin Ruohuai wasn’t sure if both of Shen Qi’s legs were powerless. When he supported him, he didn’t have to use much strength, which proved Shen Qi actually had some sensation. Was the rehabilitation starting to work?
He didn’t ask, waiting for Shen Qi to tell him.
The bed dipped slightly. Lin Ruohuai pulled the covers up for him, tucking him in tightly. “Going to sleep?”
The soft light fell on Lin Ruohuai’s pale face. He instinctively patted the duvet. He smelled of the soft fragrance of a fresh shower, and up close, one could smell the minty mouthwash—fresh and clean.
Shen Qi said nothing. Lin Ruohuai was used to it; he grabbed his pillow, intending to leave.
“Lin Xiao Jiu.”
“Hm?”
Shen Qi patted the spot next to him. “Sleep here. Keep me company.”
Lin Ruohuai didn’t move. He blurted out, “But you’re better now.”
“I’ve gotten used to it.”
“I only slept here for one night.”
Shen Qi emphasized: “Twice.”
“…”
If you’re going to be like this, I have nothing to say.
Shen Qi: “My sleep patterns are very fixed. I’ve been alone for years. If someone changes my pattern, I won’t easily change it back under feasible conditions.”
Lin Ruohuai packed up and got into bed, lying on the pillow. It was soft and bouncy. “Is this also a clause in the contract?”
“Private customization.”
Lin Ruohuai couldn’t argue because the pay was simply too high. He rubbed against the pillow. “Then this place will be stained with my scent soon. You don’t mind, Mr. Shen?”
Shen Qi swept a look at him without expression. “You talk too much.”
OK.
Lin Ruohuai made a “zip it” gesture.
From his features to his physique, Shen Qi’s aura was powerful even when he was just standing there. He was a completely different person when asleep versus awake.
Disturbed by his magnetic field, Lin Ruohuai turned his face from the pillow and mumbled, “Aren’t you sleeping? I’m so sleepy. Go to sleep quickly so you’ll be better tomorrow. Be good…”
As he spoke, he tucked the covers in and gave him a comforting pat.
“Not sleepy.”
Lin Ruohuai snapped his eyes open. Because he was so tired, his voice was thick and slurred: “Then what do you need to fall asleep?”
Shen Qi smiled slightly. “Hold me.”
Lin Ruohuai reached out to embrace his shoulders, pressing his cheek against the man’s arm. In a posture of “soft and boneless meets a copper wall,” he held him. “Goodnight.”
Shen Qi’s chest felt hot. He gripped Lin Ruohuai’s arm and closed his eyes peacefully.
He had only mentioned it in passing; he didn’t expect to actually coax him to sleep.
…
Recently, a lot of fresh fruit had been brought into the manor, all of which were Lin Ruohuai’s favorites.
It wasn’t like this at first. There used to be many varieties, and Lin Ruohuai only picked the ones he liked.
Later, only the varieties Lin Ruohuai liked remained.
He had the illusion that the fruit was bought specifically for him. The benefits for previous caregivers were too good! I don’t understand why they’d risk getting fired by upsetting Shen Qi.
Not worth it.
Until the old butler told him: “It was their own unrequited passion.”
Lin Ruohuai’s lips were wet from an apple. His eyes were bright and momentarily dazed. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“The Young Master is a favored son of heaven from a prestigious family. There were plenty of caregivers who overestimated themselves—men and women alike, regardless of actual feelings—who used work hours to harass the Young Master.”
Uncle Chen said, “Sexual harassment.”
Lin Ruohuai’s mouth opened wide enough to swallow an egg. “That’s so bold…”
Uncle Chen suddenly gave him a meaningful look.
Lin Ruohuai raised his fingers to swear: “I will absolutely not have unrequited passion, nor will I engage in any harassing behavior or language toward Mr. Shen.”
Uncle Chen explained gently, “Mr. Lin, of course I believe you. After all, you are Young Master Xie’s boyfriend. Both the Young Master and I are very clear on that.”
Lin Ruohuai gave a dry “yes, yes, yes,” thinking to himself that he had almost forgotten that identity.
Because of Uncle Chen’s words, Lin Ruohuai felt uneasy sleeping next to Shen Qi that night.
He started to think.
After all, he was a gay man. Sleeping next to Shen Qi so ambiguously—wasn’t that the same as cheating?
He knew he wasn’t, but did Shen Qi know? A man as upright and noble as Shen Qi must despise cheating.
So Shen Qi must have guessed that he and Xie Yusheng were fakes… right?
Even if it was fake, it looked real. If word got out, it would be bad for his and Shen Qi’s reputations.
He shouldn’t share a bed with Shen Qi anymore.
He needed an excuse.
Shen Qi was a man of logic.
As for tonight, he’d just make do. He was so tired. Lin Ruohuai curled up on one side, but just as he was about to fall asleep, he remembered something and quickly turned to press his forehead against Shen Qi’s arm.
This had just started recently. Ever since that night they slept holding each other, Shen Qi had glanced at him without a hint of a blush and said that holding him had changed his sleep pattern, so it had to be this way from now on.
But Lin Ruohuai hadn’t formed the habit. He was so fiercely sleepy the moment he hit the bed that he never remembered; several times, Shen Qi had to grab him by the shoulders and waist to pull him over.
Shen Qi looked refined, but he was terrifyingly strong when he used his power.
Lin Ruohuai could only resign himself to fate.
…
The next morning, after the massage, Lin Ruohuai’s fingers were aching. Seriously, the muscles in Shen Qi’s right leg were incredibly hard—harder than the left. He was fed up. Every time, he wanted to step on them a few times to see if there was really no reaction.
He could try it tonight.
No, no, no. He had to speak up; they couldn’t sleep together tonight.
Besides, how could he sneakily touch someone’s thigh?
What would be a good excuse?
Lin Ruohuai squatted at the door, biting his knuckle in thought.
It was too hard to come up with. He waited from daybreak until dusk without a single lead. Lin Ruohuai figured he might as well just fake insomnia.
Then he could “reverse-change” Shen Qi’s sleep pattern.
The old butler brought up some sweet soup, his face kind. “Mr. Lin, have some with the Young Master.”
Lin Ruohuai wiped his damp fingers, feeling the warmth of being cared for. “Thank you, Uncle Chen.”
Inside the room, Shen Qi had been acting lazy ever since he recovered. He had just finished a meeting and was now practicing calligraphy.
Shen Qi’s hobbies were distinct—he was like an old-school official. He usually liked to suppress his nature and hide his emotions.
Lin Ruohuai set the soup down and brushed back the stray hairs on his forehead, revealing his bright, beautiful features. “Your writing is so beautiful.”
“Come here.”
Lin Ruohuai walked around the table and stopped beside him. Shen Qi handed him a brush, his voice steady: “I’ll teach you.”
Shen Qi was sitting, so he was lower than the standing Lin Ruohuai. The body heat and the breath between them pressed against Lin Ruohuai’s back; he could feel the heat even through his clothes.
His hand shook, and he wrote a black blob.
Shen Qi wasn’t surprised. “Write the words: ‘Let Nature Take Its Course’.”
Lin Ruohuai put pen to paper—blob, blob, blob, blob.
But he spread it out confidently, wagging his metaphorical tail. “How is it? Can you tell what it says? Is it pretty? It’s my first time writing!”
Shen Qi said nothing.
Lin Ruohuai rubbed his nose. “If it’s ugly, you can just say so.”
“It’s ugly.”
“…”
Lin Ruohuai’s eyes flickered as an excuse suddenly came to mind. “Mr. Shen, I…”
Shen Qi told him to put the paper down and said unhurriedly, “Go wash your hands first. We’ll talk tonight. I have things to do.”
“…Oh.”
“Come here.”
Lin Ruohuai obeyed instantly and turned toward him. Shen Qi reached out and tapped his chin, letting out a laugh. “Go on.”
The smile had a hint of warmth. Lin Ruohuai was dazed; he didn’t even know when he entered the bathroom. In the mirror, the handsome young man had the corners of his mouth turned up, and there was a bit of ink on his chin.
Lin Ruohuai blinked and mumbled a laugh. What a childish guy…
…
The “tonight” Shen Qi mentioned involved taking Lin Ruohuai to see a movie—a newly released gay film that couldn’t be shown domestically.
Lin Ruohuai accepted readily. As long as it wasn’t a ghost movie.
And to be honest, although he had a hobby of reading BL novels, he didn’t have much desire to watch films. For one, he had no money or resources; for another, he didn’t really like reality-based content.
This was an art film, tragic yet hopeful, with a very healing visual style.
But the plot left Lin Ruohuai in shock.
The protagonist was cheated on by his ex-boyfriend, fell into depression, and even considered suicide. He didn’t go through with it, packed his bags, went to the countryside, and met a handsome man.
The melodramatic twist was that the handsome man was the ex-boyfriend’s older brother.
The dialogue was laced with dry humor, which balanced the atmosphere perfectly.
Lin Ruohuai felt it was oddly familiar. He couldn’t help but wonder—was Shen Qi trying to warn him?
On screen, the two characters accidentally kissed amidst the sound of cicadas. Lin Ruohuai suddenly turned his head away and buried it in the sofa, like a cat being scruffed.
Shen Qi smiled faintly. “Are you homophobic?”
Lin Ruohuai sat up straight again. “Of course not. I’m just… shy.”
Shen Qi repeated with a drawn-out tone: “Shy.”
Lin Ruohuai’s mind was racing, but Shen Qi looked calm and casual yet serious, as if a boss inspecting work.
It made it seem like he was overthinking.
Lin Ruohuai steadied his mind and tried his best to watch the movie calmly.
In the film, a character’s chest was brushed by a fingertip, letting out a soft, delicate sound. Lin Ruohuai’s eyes flickered, and he pursed his lips. He felt the shame of watching a kiss scene with a parent.
His toes curled slightly under his crossed legs, and he kept his eyes squeezed shut.
Shen Qi: “Don’t dare to look?”
His cold yet textured voice echoed in the suffocating space.
Lin Ruohuai suddenly snapped out of it. “It’s… it’s okay. I usually just read text. This is too explicit.”
—His whole body was flushed pink with sexual shame.
He didn’t dare face it directly, only daring to complain in his head.
Lin Ruohuai yawned, physiological tears shimmering at the corners of his eyes. “I’m sleepy. Today was exhausting.”
—Escape.
Shen Qi analyzed him step-by-step, his mind no longer on the movie.
He said flatly, “Sleep then. Right here.”
Lin Ruohuai pouted and lay down on the sofa. Shen Qi patted his thigh. “Here.”
Lin Ruohuai saw where he was pointing and was startled. “That’s not necessary.”
“Don’t make me say it twice,” Shen Qi commanded coldly.
As if he were about to dock his bonus the next second.
Lin Ruohuai lay down on that senseless thigh without a word.
The cinema was dim, and the light projected from the screen was alluring. The instrumental music combined with the story background was deep and oppressive. The atmosphere was ambiguous to the extreme. The surroundings were both deathly silent and noisy, buzzing and plucking at heartstrings.
Shen Qi’s breathing was heavy. He looked at Lin Ruohuai’s cheeks and eyelids, wanting to touch them but managing to control his emotions.
Lin Ruohuai’s eyelashes flickered, and his Adam’s apple moved slightly. He instinctively rubbed his ear against the thigh, the friction causing a stinging sensation.
One was testing, the other was playing dumb. Their ulterior motives collided quietly, sparking smoke and fire, only to be hidden beneath the deep sea, waiting for the next tide to surge.
Pretend.
Let’s see who can pretend to the end.
Lin Ruohuai was indeed tired. Even though the situation made him uneasy and the thigh was uncomfortably stiff, he still fell asleep pillowed on Shen Qi’s body heat.
Likely a case of “dreaming at night of what one thinks of by day.”
Lin Ruohuai’s sleep was not very peaceful.
The movie was paused. Shen Qi looked down, his gaze sweeping over Lin Ruohuai’s cheeks, finally landing on his rosy lips. They were moving slightly, making tiny sounds like a small animal, like sleep-talking.
“What are you saying?”
“…” Lin Ruohuai’s lips opened and closed.
It was too quiet to hear.
Shen Qi’s eyes grew dark, and he reached out expressionlessly.
His palm covered Lin Ruohuai’s lips, and the lips moved against his palm in a soft rub.
It was as if he were kissing his own palm.
Every line of his palm was soaked and licked by the boy’s moist saliva.