Chapter 30: Five Minutes.

Chapter 30: Five Minutes.

Qi Xie's room was spacious, immaculate, and to some extent, seemed a bit bare. A faint fragrance lingered in the air, similar to the scent on his clothes.

As the door gently closed, it brought a slight draft with it, making Ying Li shiver.

He wasn't entirely sure what Qi Xie meant by "compensating with your body," so Qi Xie patiently explained it to him, using explicit and forceful terms.

The revelation startled Ying Li, who stood in place, his eyes wide with astonishment and uncertainty.

He had promised to give whatever he could, but he hadn't anticipated Qi Xie making such a request...

The room was eerily silent. Even though Qi Xie was some distance away, Ying Li felt as though he could hear his every breath, their chest movements seemingly synchronized.

Qi Xie, standing by the door, urged, "Go take a shower."

Clutching the hem of his garment tightly, Ying Li hesitantly asked, "Can I shower in my own room? I don't have any clothes here."

Qi Xie gave him a brief, indifferent glance and said, "You won't need any."

His icy tone unnerved Ying Li. The grip on his garment tightened further, and he contemplated retreating.

Having always been obedient and well-behaved throughout his life, never even experiencing a rebellious phase, Qi Xie's proposition felt audacious and inappropriate to Ying Li.

Deep down, he couldn't accept it.

But what about Ying Tao's illness?

Qi Zhengyang was the leading leukemia specialist in the country, virtually impossible for the average person to get an appointment with. If Qi Zhengyang agreed to be Ying Tao's primary physician, her chances of recovery would significantly increase.

Cautiously lifting his eyes, Ying Li found Qi Xie still gazing at him. That silent, unwavering stare felt oppressive.

After a moment of internal turmoil and silent standoff, Ying Li, with a sense of resignation, entered the bathroom.

The rustling of fabric echoed as Ying Li began undressing: first the cotton-linen shirt, then the youthful denim jeans, all sounds merging together.

His blurred silhouette reflected on the bathroom door, revealing a slender back and waist, along with elongated limbs. Qi Xie, positioned at the bathroom's entrance, traced Ying Li's outline with his long fingers on the glass door, a tense vein bulging from his arm.

As the last piece of clothing fell, Ying Li turned on the shower, the sound of water hitting the skin resonating clearly.

Qi Xie placed the recently extinguished cigarette in his mouth, savoring the lingering scent of gardenia, without relighting it.

Taking advantage of one's vulnerability isn't noble, but then again, he was never noble to begin with.

Scalding water drenched him abruptly. As steam rose around, Ying Li stood frozen, washing himself. His thoughts were a mess, and his heart raced uncontrollably. Perhaps he was just too anxious.

But how could he not be anxious? His eyes reddened gradually, and his teary gaze was filled with distress.

"Are you done?"

A voice from outside the bathroom inquired, sounding raspy and almost out of patience.

Ying Li realized he had lingered in the shower for too long. He turned off the water and whispered, "I'm done."

There was a large mirror beside the sink. He caught a hazy reflection of himself, a wave of embarrassment washing over him.

Is this really the only way?

As he battled his inner turmoil, the bathroom door suddenly swung open. The misty fog blurred his vision, but he could unmistakably sense Qi Xie's entrance.

The dominating aura of Qi Xie was overwhelming. Before Ying Li could react, he was wrapped in a thick towel.

Qi Xie glanced at him, eyes lowered. Water droplets from Ying Li's hair trailed down his pale neck, following the curve before disappearing into more concealed areas.

Clad in the towel, Ying Li sat on the bed's edge, looking like a cocooned silkworm with a flushed face and rosy ear tips.

He had never been in a relationship before, with no guidance and no idea what to do next. After his bath, he just sat cluelessly, waiting for further instructions.

Qi Xie stood right in front of him without having taken a shower himself. Ying Li was perplexed by his intentions.

Feeling like he was on pins and needles, Ying Li braced himself mentally. Then, with a deep sigh, he looked up and asked Qi Xie, "What should I do?"

Water droplets stained the pristine bed sheets, each drop spreading outward.

"Let's dry your hair first."

Qi Xie approached with a hair dryer, plugging it in, intending to dry Ying Li's hair.

Ying Li pulled back slightly, timidly saying, "I can do it myself."

Qi Xie responded, "Alright."

Ying Li was wrapped in a towel, not a bathrobe. A mere lift of an arm would cause it to come undone. One hand held the hairdryer, while the other tightly clutched the towel around him.

Today, Qi Xie displayed unusual patience, sitting beside and silently watching Ying Li dry his hair. He took in every slight tug Ying Li made to adjust his towel — a futile attempt to cover up, only drawing more attention, deceiving both himself and others.

After an excruciatingly long five minutes, Ying Li finally finished drying. Handing back the hairdryer, he quietly whispered a "thank you."

Qi Xie naturally reached out, ruffling the top of Ying Li's hair, inserting his fingers to ensure it was dry.

Ying Li was as docile as a ragdoll, allowing himself to be manipulated without raising his head.

"Your hair's gotten quite long, almost covering your eyes."

Ying Li's most captivating feature was his eyes. They vividly conveyed a spectrum of emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, delight, love, hatred, jealousy, and obsession. When he laughed, they seemed to hold the entire galaxy, making one want to offer the world's most beautiful things to him. When he cried, they became especially pitiable, evoking a deep sense of compassion, a desire to comfort and protect him.

Raising his head, Ying Li, with eyes partially obscured by his damp hair, responded, "I'll get it cut tomorrow."

Qi Xie brushed the hair from Ying Li's eyes. Startled, Ying Li flinched away.

Qi Xie's hand paused in mid-air.

Realizing his reaction might have been overly sharp, Ying Li dryly explained, "My eyes are quite sensitive."

The two locked eyes for a moment. They hadn't done anything, yet the tension felt more intense than if they had.

Feeling both embarrassed and exasperated under Qi Xie's gaze, Ying Li started, "Weren't we going to..."

"Lie down," Qi Xie interrupted.

Was it finally happening?

Ying Li hesitated, then with resolve, he closed his eyes and lay down rigidly on the bed, as stiff as a plank.

The bed beneath him was spacious and soft. After a brief pause, he felt something cover his eyes, stripping away his sense of security.

He opened his eyes to see a world awash in red, his vision obscured.

Fear creeping in, Ying Li voiced, "Can we not cover my eyes?"

Qi Xie replied, "You're going to cry."

He couldn't bear to see Ying Li cry, fearing he might lose control.

Ying Li blinked, his eyelashes causing the ribbon to flutter momentarily.

Ying Li's complexion was so pale that it nearly blended into the bed sheets beneath him. The stark contrast between the intense red and the pristine white presented a visual feast.

Qi Xie lowered his gaze, taking his time to admire Ying Li — from his slightly furrowed brows, to the bridge of his upturned nose, and then to his thin yet plump lips.

His gaze continued to wander downward, noting several red marks on Ying Li's neck, likely from the bathroom. The birthmark on his collarbone resembled a rose blooming on a rainy night, beguilingly conspicuous.

Qi Xie inquired, "Did you scrub too hard?"

Ying Li didn't respond. His fingers involuntarily curled into his soft palms, his whole body quivering with tension as he awaited Qi Xie's next move.

Ying Li felt as if he were a pastry, being slowly unwrapped layer by layer, the entire process oppressively deliberate.

"Ever shaved yourself?"

Ying Li turned away, his lips barely parting, "Never."

Qi Xie calmly concluded, "It's natural then."

Slowly opening his eyes, Ying Li followed Qi Xie's gaze, his cheeks instantly feeling aflame.

Qi Xie placed a hand on Ying Li's stomach, pressing lightly, his long fingers spreading as if meticulously measuring.

A tingling sensation engulfed Ying Li, bringing with it a wave of humiliation.

As his earlobes gradually reddened, Ying Li felt as if he were floating on clouds, the soft fluffiness rendering him weightless, making everything around him seem hazy and surreal.

He thought he might be dying.

Ying Li plummeted from the clouds, his hair damp with sweat. The ribbon once covering his eyes had slipped to his neck at some unknown point.

The bright white light from the ceiling was blinding. Every reaction of his body was exposed. He raised his hand to cover his eyes as tears streamed through his fingers, his sobs evoking pity.

When Qi Xie asserted himself, he did so decisively, continually controlling Ying Li's reactions.

He calmly observed as a myriad of emotions gradually painted themselves in Ying Li's innocent eyes.

Ying Li had never endured such torment before and instinctively wanted to flee.

"Stay still."

The tone carried a chilling sternness. Ying Li froze, fearing to provoke his anger.

In his daze, he opened his eyes, barely discerning Qi Xie's sharply defined jawline. The faint fragrance Qi Xie wore now pervaded the room intensely, claiming every corner without reservation.

Qi Xie's gaze fixed intently on him. His usually cold and distant eyes now burned more fiercely than molten lava, and Ying Li felt as though he was being seared through.

Taking a deep breath, he desperately tried to divert his attention.

Ying Li closed his eyes again, letting his mind wander, but in a mere moment, his thoughts were harshly pulled back to reality.

Qi Xie inquired, "What are you thinking about?"

Avoiding Qi Xie's gaze, Ying Li honestly responded, "Thinking of Ying Tao's illness, and tomorrow's live broadcast."

A plethora of disjointed thoughts occupied his mind, preventing him from focusing.

Qi Xie remarked, "Distracted."

Turning his head aside, Ying Li pondered how he could concentrate when Ying Tao was ill. And this whole situation was strange. How could Qi Xie...?

Qi Xie truly was wicked, and the netizens hadn't misrepresented him at all.

Perhaps sensing Ying Li's distraction, Qi Xie began to retaliate more freely.

Ying Li, grappling both physically and mentally, finally managed to voice out, "Will Doctor Qi visit the hospital tomorrow?"

Qi Xie nodded, "Yes."

Keeping his head turned, Ying Li hesitated to face him, "Thank you."

"Thanking me still?"

Realizing the current situation they were in, Ying Li replied in a frightened tone, "I take it back, no thanks."

A soft mocking chuckle escaped Qi Xie's lips.

Barely audible, but Ying Li still heard it.

Why the laughter? Is he that laughable?

He tilted his head slightly, and their eyes met again.

Qi Xie, with his ever-calm gaze, asked him, "Have you cried in secret these past days?"

Ying Li paused for a moment before replying, "No."

His concern for Ying Tao's illness consumed him, every moment dedicated to finding a cure. With no time to cry and knowing that if he did, it would throw the household into chaos.

Qi Xie remarked, "You cry easily."

Ying Li quickly scanned his memories, realizing he'd never cried in front of Qi Xie—well, except for this time...

How did Qi Xie come to that conclusion?

"I haven't."

Qi Xie remained silent.

After what felt like an eternity, all Ying Li could think of was repeating Qi Xie's name.

"Qi Xie..."

Tears flowed freely from Ying Li's eyes, drenching a large portion of the bedsheet. He yearned to cry out loud, but the last shred of his sanity reminded him that they weren't the only ones in the mansion; others might hear.

Another silent tear fell, and Qi Xie gently wiped it away with his other hand, touching it to his lips, tasting its slight saltiness.

"Still claiming you don't cry easily?"

Indeed, seeing Ying Li cry was unbearable for him. The harder Ying Li cried, the more tormented Qi Xie felt.

Tears continued to stream down Ying Li's face, leaving him too distraught to respond.

Qi Xie, perhaps unable to bear it any longer, gently stroked the top of Ying Li's head and whispered soothingly, "There, there."

With a soft sob, the last thread of restraint in Ying Li's mind snapped completely.

Author's Note:

Dear YJ, I've made the changes. Sincerely living life and diligently writing.