Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Before the family dinner began, Wen Cishu sent a photo to Xiao Digua.

A sky full of roses bathed in hazy moonlight, vibrant and intense.

momo: "Wow, so beautiful! Where did you take this, babe? Did you get proposed to? (just kidding)"

Ming Zai Voting Machine: "Wedding anniversary, right? The building in the background looks familiar—it probably appeared in one of the recent episodes. Must be at home."

"Judging by the height, shape, and color of these flowers, they must be imported Floyd roses. Just this many in the photo would cost tens of thousands. (Beautiful things are expensive, sigh.)"

"Babe, at least take a pic with these gorgeous flowers? And bring along your mysterious partner. We don’t mind if he wears a muzzle—oops, I mean a mask."

"The crew must be thrilled. Babe casually posts a pic, and boom—instant trending topic. Saves them a fortune on promo."

"So excited for Episode 4! The whole family will be there—can’t wait!"

-

At the Bo family mansion, the small gathering came to an end. Wen Cishu helped his slightly drunk parents to bed.

He knew they must have felt reassured to relax enough to enjoy a drink.

Bo Yiming, just like the night before, slept on a small bed beside the elders’ large one.

Before leaving, Wen Cishu pulled the covers over him and gave his cheek a gentle squeeze.

"Be good tonight, sweetheart~"

Bo Yiming reached out to touch his father’s long, dark hair. "Dad’s still not back?"

Wen Cishu reassured him, "He’s on his way home. Don’t worry."

Bo Yiming nodded.

Originally, Li Yun was supposed to stay the night, but he received a last-minute call—he had to head to the office early the next morning and might have to catch a flight to Europe by noon.

Since Li Yun had been drinking, Bo Tingyuan accompanied him home.

After leaving the room, Wen Cishu told the housekeeper to keep an eye on things and headed toward the staircase.

Just a few steps in, he heard footsteps ascending.

His heart raced as he hurried forward, peering over the railing to look down—only to meet Bo Tingyuan’s upward gaze.

Behind his glasses, those green eyes were controlled but deep.

A flash of relief and happiness crossed Wen Cishu’s eyes before he quickly descended.

Dressed in a traditional long gown, the long sleeves billowed like pale apricot petals against the dark wooden stairs.

Bo Tingyuan took a step up, wrapping his arms tightly around the descending figure before effortlessly scooping him up in his arms. With steady strides, he carried him down to the second floor.

Wen Cishu wrapped his arms around his neck and murmured, "Did you get Dad settled? Are you feeling alright?"

"Mm." Bo Tingyuan walked him down the long hallway back to their bedroom.

Wen Cishu pushed himself up slightly, cradling Bo Tingyuan’s handsome face. His voice dropped lower, soft, almost a whisper, "And you?"

Bo Tingyuan squeezed him tighter for a second before reluctantly setting him down at the foot of the bed. "I’m fine."

Glancing toward the bathroom, he said, “Go freshen up and get some rest.”

Wen Cishu was puzzled—wasn’t he asking for a hug?

That look he gave me on the stairs—wasn’t that an invitation to kiss?

Had he misread everything? Was it all in his head?

Embarrassed and at a loss, Wen Cishu shot the man a glare before getting up to wash up.

Whatever—kiss me or don’t, it’s no big deal!

Bao Tingyuan had been frowning the whole time, battling the ache in his body.

As Wen Cishu left, he rested his right hand on the button of his waistcoat, slowly undoing it.

After tossing the waistcoat onto the sofa, he seemed to remember something. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a bundle.

A dark green ribbon slid through his long fingers, teetering as if about to fall.

His eyes darkened further, deepened by that emerald hue.

He clenched his fist tightly, then slowly opened it again.

Finally, he walked to the desk, opened a drawer, placed the ribbon inside, and took out a bottle of medicine.

-

In the bathroom.

While undressing, Wen Cishu found his phone in his pocket and decided to run a bath.

He eased into the water with a sigh, then opened Xiao Digua, murmuring, “Huh?”

It was all because of the photos from earlier that night.

The dinner and cake had been so enjoyable, he’d completely forgotten about them.

Seeing out-there theories like "proposal" or "belated wedding" in the comments, he replied with a photo of the cake:

“Thanks everyone, it was my birthday. Sorry for not explaining earlier—I posted in a hurry.”

“I knew it was the wifey’s birthday! Happy bday, wifey!”

“Mommy, I want cake too, waaah~~~ (Wishing mommy forever gorgeous, healthy, and safe!)”

At the same time, WeChat notifications poured in from Zhu Wei, Chu Han, Zhou Xu, and the production team—private messages and group chats flooded with greetings.

He laughed and sent several red packets into the group, oddly feeling like he almost had real coworkers.

No one expected the birthday guy to be handing out red packets, and the screen quickly filled with blessings and compliments.

Wen Cishu switched back to Xiao Digua and continued reading comments.

He slowly scrolled, liking each sweet message that poured in.

Then, his dark eyes fixed on one comment decoding the meaning of the roses.

“The symbolism of Freudian red roses is: 'You wander carelessly through my dreams, making my heart a fragrant garden.'”①

His pale arm draped over the edge of the tub, Wen Cishu stared into the shimmering water, drifting into the past.

Ten years ago, their wedding had been filled with roses, though in different colors and varieties.

He suddenly remembered that he must have said to Bao Tingyuan back then, unintentionally: *Those roses are much prettier than the others.*

It dawned on Wen Cishu now why he had felt a momentary daze when he saw the red roses in the yard earlier—like he’d been thrown back to their wedding day.

But at the time, he’d been too moved, and with family members chatting all around him, he hadn’t had time to linger on the thought.

A knock.

Water sloshed as Wen Cishu sharply turned his head. “Hmm?”

A deep voice came from outside: “Taking so long?”

Wen Cishu powered off his phone and sank into the bathtub’s soft pillow, recalling his earlier self-indulgent thoughts. He replied casually, “Yeah~”

The door creaked open from the outside.

*Who told you to come in? Rude.* Wen Cishu turned his head forward, eyes narrowing.

Footsteps drew closer, and he suddenly lowered his gaze to the clear water, curling his legs up awkwardly.

Wen Cishu had forgotten he never used bath bombs—he only used one last time because the little monkey had begged to use one.

Before he could brace himself, Bao Tingyuan’s long legs were already beside the tub.

The sidelight cast his shadow into the tub, rippling across the surface and eclipsing Wen Cishu’s slender legs.

Bao Tingyuan’s gaze swept over his flushed knees, damp arms, smooth chest, and two pink buds.

The steam had turned Wen Cishu’s skin a delicate pink, his lips glistening and plump like peaches, sinfully soft.

He pretended nonchalance, flicking a glance toward those legs.

Bao Tingyuan had changed into a long black robe, back to his usual detached, monk-like calm.

“Just go to bed after your bath.”

Wen Cishu let his chin graze the water. “I’ll be done soon.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the figure by the tub turn silently away—then his head snapped up—

“I’m getting a robe.”

The low voice had Wen Cishu biting his lip, flustered. He scooped water onto his face, closing his eyes briefly as droplets trailed down his cheeks.

When Bao Tingyuan returned to the tub, he found Wen Cishu with his eyes shut, wet black lashes clinging one by one to his soft, pale skin.

The air no longer carried the overpowering sweetness from the last bath bomb, leaving just his clean, natural scent.

“I can—”

“Keep your eyes closed.”

They spoke at the same time.

Wen Cishu instinctively obeyed, feeling strong arms slide beneath his knees and back, hoisting him up from the water.

Water streamed from his skin like a sudden downpour, thickening the air with summer’s humid tension.

Water droplets hit Wen Cishu’s temple at the same time.

Dazed, he thought Bao Tingyuan’s robe must be drenched.

After roughly drying him off with the robe, Bao Tingyuan carried him past the screen and into his own bedroom.

Wen Cishu realized Bao Tingyuan hadn’t properly wrapped him in the robe, but his body was already pressed against the bed.

He blinked open his damp lashes: “The robe’s wet.”

A thought struck him—Bao Tingyuan wasn’t wearing glasses.

In an instant, the robe was stripped off and thrown to the floor.

Wen Cishu’s dark pupils tightened as he lay completely naked on the dark-toned sheets.

His pale skin, almost blindingly white, looked like soft milk pudding.

Before he could grab the covers, Bao Tingyuan gripped his chin, tilting it up before leaning down to kiss him—the aggression overwhelming any morning-kiss tenderness.

The bite on his lower lip sent Wen Cishu’s hands fumbling for something to hold, only for Bao Tingyuan to clasp his fingers and pin them against the pillow.

Wen Cishu glared, frowning as he muttered, “Why bite me?”

Bao Tingyuan stared at him, soft as if he’d bruise at a touch, offering no reply. Instead, he nipped lightly at his chin, then moved to his earlobe, delicate as a pearl, the alluring mole on his neck, and finally his supple throat.

Under those burning kisses, Wen Cishu involuntarily arched his back.

His heart raced, frantic, his legs bending as his feet rubbed restlessly against the sheets.

Bao Tingyuan heard the frantic *thud-thud-thud* and lifted his dark, brooding eyes, brushing their lips together before pressing his nose against Wen Cishu’s, slowly steadying his breathing.

No words were needed—Wen Cishu knew Bao Tingyuan was steadying his breathing.

His chest warmed as he nuzzled Bao Tingyuan’s nose.

Wen Cishu could feel the restless energy radiating from him.

Bao Tingyuan’s desire clung thick like mist, swallowing not only himself but enveloping Wen Cishu as well.

He slid his arms around Bao Tingyuan’s slim waist, pressing a shy kiss to the corner of his lips and murmured, his voice equal parts shy and sweet, “Bao Tingyuan, when kissing and hugging, you should say something nice. You can’t be this rough.”

Beneath the gentleness lurked something feral.

Bao Tingyuan’s hand lingered, feeling his breathing even out, then brushed the corner of his lips, his voice low and husky.

“Something nice like what?”

“…”

Wen Cishu faltered, poking his arm. “Did… the teachers at your French school not teach you? Or did you not pay attention in class?”

As soon as he said it, he cringed at how ridiculous it sounded and promptly sealed his lips shut.

Bao Tingyuan pressed their foreheads together, chuckling low in his throat.

It was a ridiculous thing to say, and Wen Cishu laughed despite himself.

The second his lips parted in laughter, Bao Tingyuan seized them again.

Amid the breath-stealing intensity of the deep kiss, Bao Tingyuan murmured teasingly, “Professor Wen, why don’t you teach me?”

His irresistibly seductive voice effortlessly ignited Wen Cishu’s desire.

Wen Cishu was panting rapidly, his body burning with heat, and his physical reaction undeniable.

Blushing, he reached for the blanket to cover himself, only for Bao Tingyuan’s hand to press down firmly on it.

“You—”

Bao Tingyuan kissed his earlobe and the corner of his lips, whispering soothingly, “Don’t be shy, Cishu.”

Wen Cishu closed his eyes, his body gradually calming.

Then another thought struck him—why hadn’t Bao Tingyuan reacted at all during their previous intimate moments?

He ground against Bao Tingyuan, only to confirm that he was the only one so worked up.

—His self-control was *that* good?

Suddenly, a realization from three weeks ago hit Wen Cishu like a bullet.

*"For men’s health, visit Bo’ai—specialized care, expert consultations."*