Dinner consisted of a hearty meal of five dishes and one soup. Uncle Rong’s cooking skills were not particularly extraordinary, but compared to the monotonous taste of the kitchen robot, Ruan Nian felt he could easily finish another bowl of pork rib soup.
The taro was stewed until it was soft and glutinous. A gentle press against the roof of his mouth was enough to make it melt, sliding down into his stomach along with the savory soup. After finishing the bowl, his entire body felt warm and fuzzy.
Mu Yan and Uncle Rong shared no master-servant barrier and dined at the same table. The dinner table also lacked any custom of silence while eating. Ruan Nian ate while answering Uncle Rong’s questions.
Tastes, hobbies, habits. Ruan Nian had always been someone who found it difficult to refuse gentle and kind elders, and before he knew it, he had been probed about everything.
Mu Yan focused on the food in front of him, showing no intention of joining the conversation. After finishing, he tidied up the bowls and chopsticks, stood up, and headed to the second floor.
Uncle Rong was accustomed to such situations. His movements as he picked up food for Ruan Nian were calm and unhurried. Compared to Mu Yan, an Alpha who had been taciturn since childhood, this well-behaved Omega before him brought more joy to his heart. Ruan Nian swallowed the last piece of pork rib under his loving gaze.
He had eaten until he was stuffed without realizing it.
He helped Uncle Rong take the bowls and chopsticks to the kitchen and put them into the dishwasher. Although the bloated feeling in his stomach was slightly uncomfortable, Ruan Nian was in high spirits.
He himself felt it was somewhat inexplicable. Even though he was more relaxed and natural at home, this was the first time since his estrus that he had eaten so happily and contentedly.
Unconsciously, the scent of sweet milk drifted across the dining table, mingling with the faint, lingering aroma of tequila. When it floated back to Ruan Nian’s side, it felt quietly filled with a sense of happiness.
After dinner, Uncle Rong proactively offered to take Ruan Nian for a tour of the garden he managed. The sunlight outside had not yet completely faded, and the sunset afterglow covered the strange garden in a beautiful filter. Ruan Nian happily agreed.
The silver-haired elderly man and the elegant, clear-cut young man strolled together along the stone path, stopping occasionally to whisper to each other, with bursts of laughter drifting faintly through the garden.
Mu Yan had finished the unfinished official business in the study and walked to the second-floor balcony to relax, only to see this scene.
Ruan Nian’s expression was natural and relaxed, the smile at the corners of his lips more radiant than the sunset on the horizon.
Mu Yan watched for a long time without realizing it.
The slight fatigue in his body was swept away.
It was not until a gust of wind rose in the distance, ruffling the stray hairs behind Ruan Nian’s ears, that Mu Yan finally came back to his senses.
The sky was slowly darkening, and the outdoor air began to carry a chill.
Mu Yan lifted his hand to flip back the collar lifted by the wind and walked downstairs without a second thought.
Before he could finish descending the stairs, the elder and the youth had already walked back into the house with smiles and laughter, even closing the side door that connected to the garden behind them. The temperature inside was much warmer than outside, and the chill quickly dissipated from his body.
Mu Yan’s footsteps faltered. His legs, which were originally headed toward the side door, turned rigidly in another direction. He brushed past them, poured a glass of water in the kitchen area, and went back upstairs.
Uncle Rong saw through the rigidity and embarrassment in Mu Yan’s movements at once, laughing even more heartily.
Ruan Nian’s good mood continued.
Although Uncle Rong was advanced in age, he remained witty and humorous during conversation. His brilliant ideas regarding gardening instantly sparked Ruan Nian’s inspiration, and he could not wait to return to his room, unpack his suitcase, take out his paper and pen, and draw the fleeting, beautiful things he had just seen.
As he opened the door, the room lights automatically sensed his presence and slowly brightened. He had only glanced briefly during the day, but looking at it now, he could still feel the meticulousness and thoughtfulness of the person who had tidied the room.
Ruan Nian walked straight toward his suitcase but stopped halfway.
Years of painting had made him very sensitive to changes in color and light. The light in the room had become slightly brighter after passing through a certain cross-section.
Ruan Nian instinctively went to find the answer and finally discovered the hidden surprise in the room.
It turned out that Ruan Nian’s room and the room next door were connected.
That was why Mu Yan had not taken him to tour the room next door.
His body turned off its own accord. Ruan Nian changed his route and walked straight toward the doorway connecting the two rooms.
Since they were connected directly, without even a door installed, he figured he might as well treat them as part of his room. Taking a look should not be a problem.
If the specially modified bedroom made Ruan Nian feel warm, then the layout of the annex made his sense of security skyrocket.
The entire floor-to-ceiling window brought abundant light into the room, complemented by a soft, pure white carpet and wooden cabinets filled with various art supplies.
On the huge, light-colored log table, the latest model of a graphics monitor and electronic stylus were placed perfectly straight. The center of the room had been intentionally cleared to make space for an easel.
There were even a few bust sculptures in the corner, and the tatami mat meant for brief rests even thoughtfully featured a few cushions.
Ruan Nian was so happy he felt like he could fly.
Like someone receiving a new toy, he immediately ran over to touch the tabletop and paced excitedly in front of the wooden cabinets.
They were all expensive brands of pigments and drawing paper, waiting to be opened by Ruan Nian.
What Ruan Nian was most satisfied with was the tatami area.
Unlike some professional painters who hunched over a table day and night to create, he preferred the real tactile feel of paper and pen compared to electronic brushes and color pickers. Sitting, lying prone, leaning. Back on Mengxing, Ruan Nian liked to draw in various postures that allowed him to relax.
His studio also had such a tatami area, covered with a thick, soft carpet, directly facing the window so he could bask in the warm sunlight during the day. Occasionally, Sticky Rice would jump onto the cushions while he was drawing. At such times, Ruan Nian would put down his pen and enjoy an afternoon nap with the cat.
This studio was an enormous gift, and every single detail suited Ruan Nian’s heart.
The more he looked, the more satisfied he became. He simply dragged his luggage to the annex and laid out his portable art tools one by one, beginning to draw and paint on the huge table.
The tatami that made Ruan Nian’s sense of happiness explode was actually a coincidence.
Mu Yan, who had always been thoughtful and meticulous in his work, had specifically renovated the room next to the guest room into a studio after learning about Ruan Nian’s profession. When Tang Xian brought various design proposals to him, he remembered the design department he had decided to inspect on a whim while passing by not long ago.
The workaholics who had been caught off guard by their boss did not even have a chance to save themselves. Design blueprints flew everywhere like flowers scattered by a goddess. Several poor draftsmen who had just pulled an all-nighter to finish their drawings did not know whether to sleep or die of social embarrassment. The company executives saw everything, including the bold, uninhibited, sprawling sleeping postures on chairs, tables, and even the floor.
Later, amid the tearful and pale remedial efforts of the design department manager, Mu Yan stepped out of the design department door with pity in his eyes. He returned to the president office and specifically approved the purchase of custom-sized, extra-large desks and lounge areas with sofa beds.
Thus, Mu Yan naturally instructed Tang Xian to change the painting table in the proposal to a larger size.
It should have ended there.
As Mu Yan was about to close the proposal book, the pure white fluffy carpet in the rendering flashed before his eyes.
It instantly reminded Mu Yan of that night, when the young man, physically exhausted, curled up and slept in the pure white velvet quilt, his slightly red corners of his eyes still holding unshed tears, as soft and obedient as a kitten.
Subconsciously, he wanted to give him a warm nest. When the room was filled with sunshine, he could stroke his soft fur once more.
His fingertips, turning the pages of the proposal, twisted unconsciously, as if relishing the wonderful tactile sensation, he had once experienced.