Returning through the snow, Lin Qing’an remained entirely silent the entire way, save for responding to Xie Tingchuan’s words and questions.
Why? Lin Qing’an desperately wanted to ask Xie Tingchuan.
Lin Qing’an felt that as a romantic partner, he was already being excessively difficult and high-maintenance why wasn’t Xie Tingchuan just taking the opportunity to agree to his breakup proposal?
Yet after the tearful outburst moments ago, Lin Qing’an didn’t dare bring it up again.
This contradictory state of mind left Lin Qing’an tangled in an internal tug-of-war.
He simultaneously wanted to draw a definitive line with Xie Tingchuan once and for all, yet was utterly reluctant to let go of this tenderness, greedily clinging to this sweetness.
The elevator doors slid open and shut, yet Lin Qing’an didn’t step out. His heavy gaze remained fixed on the floor number 6 flashing above, and after a moment of hesitation, Lin Qing’an pressed the button.
Fingering his Bluetooth earbud, Lin Qing’an spoke in a soft voice,
“I’m back home.”
A low chuckle hummed through his earpiece, Xie Tingchuan’s voice laced with an odd, teasing amusement.
“Is An-bao trying to hang up my voice call?”
“…, Mn, I want to take a shower.”
“Alright, go take a shower. Drink some cold medicine to prevent a chill, check if you bruised yourself from the fall while washing, and remember to send me photos.”
Without lingering, Xie Tingchuan hung up the call the second he finished speaking. In the past, it was always Lin Qing’an who initiated hanging up, while Xie Tingchuan practically never disconnected first.
Watching the elevator halt on the sixth floor, Lin Qing’an felt an urgent craving to see Xie Tingchuan right then and there, to experience the man with real, tangible warmth.
As for the reason, Lin Qing’an refused to dissect it, nor did he wish to overthink it. He’d just muddle through however he could; muddle through one day at a time. As long as Xie Tingchuan never found out that “Xiao Qinggan” was actually Lin Qing’an, Lin Qing’an could stay by his side under the guise of being Xie Tingchuan’s friend.
Lin Qing’an stepped out of the elevator and let out a soft, abrupt laugh light and exceptionally quiet, yet starkly audible in the quiet hallway.
Lin Qing’an began thanking his past self for the impulse that led him to befriend this neighbor in the first place back before he even knew the guy was Xie Tingchuan.
Turns out, he was genuinely bound to be drawn to Xie Tingchuan all along.
Just like the male lead in a novel, always surrounded by a loyal entourage of younger guys running errands and clearing paths for him.
A subordinate, a friend—that role is fine too, Lin Qing’an comforted himself, seeing as Xie Tingchuan’s impression of him clearly wasn’t very favorable.
So, being a friend worked just as well.
Ding-ding.
Lin Qing’an pressed the doorbell. Even though he knew Xie Tingchuan was still wide awake, the man deliberately refused to come open the door.
Flustered and at a loss, Lin Qing’an longed to see him—wanted to see him immediately.
Ding-ding. Ding-ding…
The doorbell rang repeatedly. A few minutes later, the door Lin Qing’an had been staring at so intently finally swung open.
Xie Tingchuan stood in the doorway wearing a foul, sour expression. When he saw Lin Qing’an looking like a drowned puppy outside filthy and mud-spattered, thick swathes of wet slush plastered across his winter coat and trousers, his once-neat fringe plastered messily across his forehead the man’s brow furrowed deep. Yet the person in question seemed completely oblivious to his own bedraggled state.
Locking his gaze tightly onto Xie Tingchuan, Lin Qing’an opened and closed his mouth, hesitating for a long while before cobbling together a clumsy excuse.
“Xie Tingchuan, my front door is broken and I’m scared… can I stay at your place for the night?”
The impatient, irritated look on Xie Tingchuan’s face felt like a sharp needle piercing his throat, choking back any remaining words Lin Qing’an wanted to say.
“If you’re scared, you can go stay at a hotel.” With that, Xie Tingchuan made to slam the door shut right in his face, but Lin Qing’an reacted with lightning speed, shoving his hand out to wedge the door open. Meeting gaze for gaze, Lin Qing’an froze for a split second before panic-stricken eyes darted away, dodging the confrontation.
Such glaring, textbook guilt was impossible for Xie Tingchuan to miss. Already in a foul mood, he was actively looking for an outlet to vent; watching this flip-flopping neighbor trying to pull something, he figured he might as well play along to see what the guy was up to. If the neighbor was planning any malicious tricks, he could just use the excuse to beat him up.
For the very first time, Xie Tingchuan gave him a thorough top-to-bottom appraisal: a scrawny little frame, a soft, yielding build… would this guy even be able to take a single punch from him?
Skeptical, Xie Tingchuan stepped sideways to clear a path.
Against all odds, such a flimsy excuse had actually wrung a shred of sympathy out of Xie Tingchuan. Even as an unfriendly neighbor, he was still willing to extend a helping hand.
“Thanks.” Lowering his head, Lin Qing’an slipped past him into the apartment, freezing the second he crossed the entryway.
He realized a critical problem: he himself was a walking biohazard right now, his waterlogged shoes caked in muddy snow, leaving a trail of filthy smudges right across the pristine entryway floor.
Jerking his head up to look at Xie Tingchuan, Lin Qing’an caught the man staring darkly down at the mess by his feet, making him feel instantly unworthy of standing there. Yet Lin Qing’an didn’t regret it—the burning desire to see Xie Tingchuan had entirely overtaken his senses, leaving zero room for anything else.
Stripping off his soaking-down jacket and dropping to his knees, Lin Qing’an frantically began wiping away the muddy tracks from the floor under Xie Tingchuan’s deepening scowl.
Ensuring the hardwood was completely spotless, Lin Qing’an stood up barefoot on the floor and cast a nervous, jittery glance up at Xie Tingchuan. The five-to-six-centimeter height difference forced Lin Qing’an to tilt his chin upward, though he stubbornly avoided meeting those perfectly shaped eyes directly, terrified of seeing any hurtful disgust mirrored within them.
Seeing Lin Qing’an looking so wretchedly insecure gave Xie Tingchuan a jarring sense of cognitive dissonance. Every previous encounter had portrayed him either as a blazing little sun full of burning enthusiasm or an unapproachable iceberg drifting past. Yet looking at this trembling, terrified figure right now—desperately afraid of rejection, terrified of being disliked, Xie Tingchuan almost felt like some sort of bloodthirsty beast of prey.
Furrowing his brows even deeper, Xie Tingchuan let out a sudden sigh of resignation. Noticing Lin Qing’an shivering from head to toe, he pointed his toe toward the shoe cabinet to flip open a brand-new pair of slippers.
“Put those on.”
“Thanks.” Crouching down, Lin Qing’an fished out the cotton slippers resting at the very front and slipped them on. By this point, Xie Tingchuan had already closed the door and begun walking toward the living room.
Lin Qing’an scrambled up to hurry after that tall, imposing figure.
Only… the man headed straight into his bedroom.
As a private sanctuary, Lin Qing’an wouldn’t dare barge in uninvited. With his trouser legs dripping wet, he felt too uncomfortable to even sit down, so he could only hover awkwardly in the doorway of the bedroom and wait.
Fortunately, Xie Tingchuan emerged almost immediately.
The moment he saw Xie Tingchuan heading toward him holding a bundle of clothing, hope flared in Lin Qing’an’s chest.
“You… are these for me…”
“Hold onto them yourself.” Handing the garments directly to him, Xie Tingchuan led him toward the bathroom, pausing to cast another irritated glare at the cowering figure. “There are toiletries inside, go wash up.”
“Thanks.”
The second Xie Tingchuan sat back down in the living room, a soft gasp drifted out from the bathroom, instantly followed by a flurry of frantic exclamations.
Pacing over to the bathroom door, Xie Tingchuan tapped sharply against the wood. “Lin Qing’an?”
“N-no, I’m fine.”
A muffled grunt of pain and an intake of breath followed. Xie Tingchuan knocked again, his internal monologue firing up: Is this guy seriously trying to die inside my house?
“You sure you’re okay?”
After a two-second pause, the bathroom door swung open from the inside, revealing an even more disheveled Lin Qing’an.
Most of his clothes were drenched through, his entire body was shuddering violently, and judging by his stiff, awkward gait, he had definitely taken a nasty spill earlier.
“The showerhead switch is broken.”
Leaning heavily against the vanity for support, Lin Qing’an used the counter to keep himself upright, sparing himself from collapsing onto the tile floor in a humiliating heap.
Hearing this, Xie Tingchuan stepped forward to inspect the unit, flicking the valve back and forth. No matter how he adjusted it, the water temperature refused to stabilize—surging wildly between scalding hot and freezing cold. No wonder Lin Qing’an had ended up in such a miserable state.
“Come on, use the bathroom in my master bedroom.”
“Thank you.” Clutching his change of clothes, Lin Qing’an trailed submissively behind Xie Tingchuan into the master bedroom.
He didn’t dare look around, merely stealing a swift, sweeping glance: strict white walls adorned with two landscape paintings, warm-toned sofa accents, and a beige bed displaying two distinct creases on the duvet clearly indicating someone had just been lying there moments before.
“Go on inside.” With a cool, deep command given, Lin Qing’an hastily retracted his gaze, exchanged a fleeting look with him, and scuttled duck-like into the bathroom.
The enveloping steam of the warm shower and the crisp, clean scent of the body wash wrapping around him allowed Lin Qing’an to slowly close his eyes and relax.
Once the hot shower wrapped up, Lin Qing’an finally noticed the blooming bruises mapping across his wrists and knees. Though his backside was shielded from view, a dull, aching soreness throbbed persistently beneath the surface.
Lin Qing’an sighed mentally today was simply not his lucky day; outdoor excursions were definitely off the table.
Towel-drying his skin, Lin Qing’an lowered his gaze to inspect the pajamas Xie Tingchuan had prepared for him. Soft to the touch and carrying the crisp scent of warm sunshine, they were clearly freshly laundered and they belonged to Xie Tingchuan.
Xie Tingchuan actually handed me his own pajamas to wear?
The mere thought sent a jolt of ecstatic electricity straight through Lin Qing’an’s veins. Slipping them on rapidly, his nostrils were instantly greeted by a faint, lingering trace of camellia fragrance unmistakably the scent of scented laundry detergent.
Unable to resist, he buried his face against the collar to inhale deeply. The soft floral notes instantly ignited a restless heat within his chest, leaving his body freezing up in sheer shock: Why on earth do I sound and act like such a complete creep right now?!
Click. Careful not to make a sound, Lin Qing’an eased the bathroom door open and looked out. Xie Tingchuan was sitting quietly under the dim amber glow of a floor lamp. The lighter in his hand flicked on, died, flicked on, died repeating in a hypnotic loop.
Hearing the door click open, Xie Tingchuan flicked his gaze toward Lin Qing’an for a brief second before looking away. Resting on the coffee table right in front of him was an open phone screen, glowing with a solid wall of dense, unending text messages.
The oppressive quiet suffocated Lin Qing’an with nervous tension. Keeping his lips pressed into a tight line, he padded carefully across the floor until he was standing right before the man.
“Thank you.”
“Mn,” Xie Tingchuan looked back up at him. “Go sleep in the guest bedroom. You can leave straight away tomorrow morning.”
“Got it.” Nodding obediently, Lin Qing’an turned to leave, but his peripheral vision swept across the lit phone screen resting on the table the contact ID displayed at the top belonged to none other than “Xiao Qinggan”!