Chapter 62 I Sleep Beside You

Chapter 62 Sleeping Next to You

Jiang Ruotang sat on the edge of the coffee table, slowly leaning toward Lu Guifan. Through the thin lenses of his glasses, Jiang Ruotang could see Lu Guifan’s eyes.

Lu Guifan’s expression was neutral, reminding Jiang Ruotang of the altar statues in temples—those deities worshipped by mortals who sought desires in exchange for incense.

Would your heart flutter?

Jiang Ruotang curved his eyes into a smile. Despite his own heart nearly stopping from nervousness, he still wore an air of cool and collected composure—truly, putting on airs was torture!

He reached out, gently tilting Lu Guifan’s chin up, his thumb resting on Lu Guifan’s lips.

So this was the texture of his lips—soft but firm. Holding his breath, Jiang Ruotang leaned in. He didn’t know if Lu Guifan had closed his eyes like he had, but when he kissed his own finger, Lu Guifan’s shoulders stiffened briefly, almost imperceptibly.

Perhaps it was because Jiang Ruotang’s nose nearly brushed against his cheek when he turned his head, or perhaps it was the unfamiliar warmth and the first time someone had breached Lu Guifan’s comfort zone, making him uneasy. His lips seemed to part slightly, allowing Jiang Ruotang’s thumb to sense a faint resistance—as if Lu Guifan had responded to him.

Jiang Ruotang edged closer, his lips traced upward along his finger until his nose reached beneath Lu Guifan’s glasses, slowly lifting the frames.

Lu Guifan’s hand had been resting casually on the armrest of the sofa, but as he felt the glasses gradually losing their weight, his fingers tightened in the unnoticed corner, his knuckles whitening.

Jiang Ruotang’s nose was like a feather, ghosting over his skin. That faint transfer of warmth yanked at Lu Guifan’s heartstrings with an invisible force, lifting it along with the glasses.

The upper edge of the frames lifted Lu Guifan’s bangs, pushing everything toward a point of no return.

The surroundings were silent. Jiang Ruotang knew he had to quit while he was ahead. He pulled back abruptly, putting space between them.

The pressure on Lu Guifan’s lips vanished, replaced by a sudden hollowness—from his bones to his brain, all instinctively chasing after Jiang Ruotang’s lingering warmth.

Yet Jiang Ruotang merely held his glasses with both hands, carefully placing them back in position.

“So? Did it feel movie-worthy?” Jiang Ruotang’s hands remained on Lu Guifan’s shoulders, conveniently shielding his own flaming ears.

Jian Sha and the others were gobsmacked.

“I… I really thought you kissed him just now…” Cai Ji swallowed hard.

“How could that be? I was kissing my own finger!” Jiang Ruotang explained.

Zhao Zhangfeng rubbed the back of his head. “It felt both deeply affectionate and kinda… weirdly sexy somehow. I don’t know how to describe it…”

Jiang Ruotang made a face like an old man squinting at his phone. “I get the ‘affectionate’ part, but ‘indecent’? I didn’t even move my lips!”

Jian Sha summed it up perfectly: “But I feel like you stole Class President’s purity just with your nose. You didn’t lift his glasses—you lifted his chastity!”

“What the hell?” Jiang Ruotang turned to Lu Guifan. “Class President! Wasn’t I being super careful?”

Lu Guifan’s ears were no longer red, his voice calm. “So this is how fake kissing scenes are filmed.”

Jiang Ruotang nodded. “Yep. And some even use plastic wrap—completely overkill.”

Jian Sha turned to Bai Yingchuan for confirmation. “Seriously? A thin layer like that would feel almost the same as a real kiss. Isn’t that just pointless?”

Bai Yingchuan had been silent the entire time. Jiang Ruotang’s fake kiss had set his imagination on fire. When Jiang Ruotang’s nose lifted those old glasses, Bai Yingchuan’s pulse spiked with the urge to yank him over, bite his nose hard, make him sob, make him plead, make him regret teasing someone else in front of him.

“Bai Yingchuan?”

Jian Sha’s voice snapped him back to reality. He had never imagined he could harbor such endless imaginings about another person.

“It’s true. It’s not pretentious—sometimes actors are too young, and their parents might mind the kissing,” Bai Yingchuan explained.

“Oh, that makes sense,” Jian Sha said, turning back to Jiang Ruotang. “But honestly, if that kiss scene made it into a drama, the ratings would skyrocket! Pure yet sensual—only you art students could pull that off.”

“Of course.” Jiang Ruotang smirked proudly. “Never underestimate an art major’s eye for drama and composition!”

Sister Juan arrived with sliced fruit, missing Jiang Ruotang’s impromptu performance, much to everyone’s amusement.

By ten in the evening, tired from singing, the group moved to the balcony to light fireworks.

Cai Ji sighed. “The last time I set off fireworks was in elementary school. My mom was still with me then—she took me to the convenience store to buy those little goldfish fireworks, three for a dollar…”

Jiang Ruotang comforted him. “Next year at this time, you’ll be with your mom again, watching fireworks together as a family.”

“Yeah!” Cai Ji smiled and nodded.

Zhao Zhangfeng, with his long limbs, was tasked with lighting the fireworks.

They should’ve used incense sticks, but since they hadn’t prepared any, they resorted to a cigarette from the guest supplies. As Zhao Zhangfeng lit it, he muttered under his breath,

“If my coach finds out about this, I’ll be kneeling on thumbtacks.”

Perhaps because of the cold, the lighter’s flame kept dying before it could fully ignite the cigarette.

Cai Ji rubbed his hands together and asked, “Done yet?”

“Is this lighter out of fluid?” Zhao Zhangfeng grumbled.

“Let me try.” Jiang Ruotang stepped forward. In his past life, he’d smoked plenty—he was probably the only one present who was a pro at lighting up.

Despite being a head taller, Zhao Zhangfeng obediently handed the cigarette over, looking like Jiang Ruotang’s faithful sidekick.

Jiang Ruotang held the cigarette between his lips, tilting his head slightly as he clicked the lighter with one hand and cupped the flame from the wind with the other. The glow lit up his chin and lips, his eyes lowered. A breeze slipped past his fingers, making the flame flicker, casting shifting shadows across his features.

Bai Yingchuan stood at a distance, watching. Jiang Ruotang seemed almost otherworldly—calm yet distant, as if he saw through everything.

There was a unique beauty to him, like his namesake, the crabapple tree—elegant branches stretching out, adorned with tightly closed buds, mysterious enough to make one wonder if they hid mere leaves or jade-green petals.

“You know how to smoke?” Lu Guifan’s voice sounded beside Jiang Ruotang’s ear.

“I do. But don’t sweat it, I don’t smoke—because I want to make it to 100.” Jiang Ruotang grinned at him.

Lu Guifan said nothing more. He believed Jiang Ruotang.

Jiang Ruotang handed the lit cigarette to Zhao Zhangfeng, who crouched down and extended his arm to light the fuse of the firework, which resembled a small dynamite bundle. First came tiny sparks, then a dazzling display of silver and gold, white, red, and multicolored lights illuminating everyone’s faces.

Cai Ji held a long stick, and Zhao Zhangfeng lit it for him as he raised it toward the sky.

A sudden loud bang startled Lin Lu so badly he nearly fell over, while Cai Ji hunched his shoulders like an ostrich.

Jiang Ruotang stood still, his ears warm. The ear-splitting bang didn’t frighten him—instead, it sounded muffled, because someone behind him had covered his ears.

His back was almost pressed against the other’s chest. Despite the thick down jacket between them, Jiang Ruotang could distinctly feel the rise and fall of their breathing.

Like a warm sea, Jiang Ruotang’s subconscious longed to melt into it.

It was Lu Guifan.

“Bang—bang—bang—”

A dozen colorful fireworks rocketed upward, nearly dropping from Cai Ji’s hands.

The others covered their ears.

When this round of fireworks ended, Cai Ji could barely hear anything and shouted to everyone, "This is practically shaking the heavens—"

Jiang Ruotang turned his head, finding himself so close to Lu Guifan that his nose nearly grazed the other's lips.

Once again, he caught the refreshing, comforting scent uniquely Lu Guifan's.

By the time everyone turned around, Lu Guifan had already lowered his hands.

Finally, the countdown arrived. They listened to the voices from the TV while closing their eyes to make wishes.

Jiang Ruotang felt everything was so beautiful it felt surreal—Zhao Zhangfeng, whom he wanted to protect and repay, was right beside him, calling him "ge" repeatedly. He had friends like Cai Ji and Jian Sha, and Lu Guifan was still as considerate and protective as in his past life.

If there truly were gods, he prayed this moment would last forever.

After setting off the remaining fireworks, it was already close to 1 a.m., time to sleep.

Jian Sha, the only girl, was set on the first-floor princess room.

Zhao Zhangfeng and Cai Ji slung arms over each other's shoulders, debating how far they’d gotten in the anime they were following. That left Bai Yingchuan, Lin Lu, Jiang Ruotang, and Lu Guifan.

"There are two rooms left—mine and Xiao Gao's," Jiang Ruotang said with a smile. "How should we split them?"

For Lin Lu, there was no way in hell he’d let Jiang Ruotang and Bai Yingchuan share a room.

If those two ended up comparing notes in bed, all of Lin Lu's previous instigations would be exposed, ruining his chances to play both sides in the future.

"I'm picky about beds. From elementary to high school, I always slept in Ruotang's room when I visited!"

Lin Lu might as well have spelled it out—he wanted to share a room with Jiang Ruotang.

That would leave Bai Yingchuan and Lu Guifan to share Xiao Gao's room.

"Huh? Bai Yingchuan and the class monitor sharing a room? Wouldn’t they just sit there in awkward silence?" Jian Sha asked.

Jiang Ruotang glanced at Bai Yingchuan, noticing his barely-there frown. Though outwardly gentle, Bai Yingchuan was actually quite proud—crashing in the driver's room would probably piss him off.

"Haha, Bai Yingchuan and Lin Lu are closer, so you two can take my bedroom! I'll share Xiao Gao's room with the class monitor!" Jiang Ruotang turned to Lu Guifan. "That okay, class monitor?"

"Fine."

Lu Guifan responded softly.

Bai Yingchuan stared at Jiang Ruotang for a long moment, but Jiang Ruotang acted as if he noticed nothing, taking the stairs two at a time to fetch his pajamas and toiletries before heading back down.

This was actually the best arrangement. After all, Bai Yingchuan and Lin Lu came from better-off families than the others. Making them sleep in the driver's room would’ve been a slight, but now that they were staying in the master bedroom, there was nothing to complain about.

Lin Lu was over the moon—he hadn’t expected to share a room with Bai Yingchuan on New Year's Eve.

"Night night, kiddos!" Jiang Ruotang laughed before turning to leave with Lu Guifan for Xiao Gao's room.

Watching his retreating figure, Jian Sha remarked, "Jiang Ruotang’s sharing a room with his crush. The tension tonight’s gonna be palpable—so much material for fantasies~"

Zhao Zhangfeng sighed. "There you go again, saying things we don’t understand!"

Jiang Ruotang nearly stumbled at the words "room for imagination."

Damn it, I wasn’t thinking anything at all—pure as snow!

But now that Jian Sha had put the idea in his head, he felt like he’d be wasting this chance if he didn’t indulge a few wild thoughts.

Xiao Gao’s room was as big as Lu Guifan’s entire living room, with a 1.8-meter-wide bed, a sleek, minimalist desk, and a wardrobe. There weren’t many traces of Xiao Gao’s life here—he only crashed here when tagging along with Jiang Huaiyuan to late-night business dinners, at most four or five times a month.

Sister Juan had already swapped out the sheets and duvet cover to Jiang Ruotang’s chestnut-checked set, with two pillows placed side by side. Though it was Xiao Gao’s room, the air carried the familiar scent that Lu Guifan associated with Jiang Ruotang.

The heater made the air dry.

After showering and drying his hair, Jiang Ruotang stood in front of Xiao Gao’s mirror, grinning at himself.

"What are you doing?" Lu Guifan asked, standing beside him.

"My lips are too dry."

At the mention of lips, Lu Guifan recalled how Jiang Ruotang had nearly pressed against him while singing earlier. His heart clenched violently, blood rushing downward.

"Do you have lip balm in your room? Or I could ask Jian Sha if she has any."

Lu Guifan had just picked up his phone when Jiang Ruotang stopped him. "Dude, are you dumb? You can’t just share lip balm—that’s like an indirect kiss."

If he hadn’t brought it up, it would’ve been fine. But now, at the words "indirect kiss," Lu Guifan looked down and saw Jiang Ruotang’s fingers—the very bridge for their indirect kiss.

"Then don’t pick at it. If it breaks, it might bleed."

"Mm, got it."

After speaking, Jiang Ruotang quickly licked his lower lip.

It was as quick as a cat’s lick, but Lu Guifan felt something strange stir in his chest—he envied that can.

No… more accurately… he wanted to be that can.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked to the bed, asking, voice steady, "Which side do you want?"

"Haha, I’ll sleep beside you." Jiang Ruotang quipped to his reflection, then chuckled, amused by his corny rhyme.

Lu Guifan glanced at his unbothered figure before pulling up the covers and sliding under.

Though this was the driver’s room, the bedding was high-end—the mattress was just the right firmness, unlike Lu Guifan’s single bed, which was just a sad pad over planks. The duvet was soft and fluffy, the cover smooth against the skin.

Meanwhile, Lu Guifan wore a slightly pilled checkered pajama set that felt rough to the touch, clashing with the luxe bedding.

"Class monitor, did you put on moisturizer?" Jiang Ruotang asked.

"I didn’t bring mine."

Lu Guifan wasn’t big on skincare. He only remembered to apply lotion when the cold weather made his face feel tight, using a cheap, drugstore bargain-bin moisturizer.

"I squeezed too much. Here, for you."

Jiang Ruotang hurried over, sitting beside Lu Guifan. Lu Guifan automatically reached for his glasses on the nightstand—he needed to see Jiang Ruotang’s face clearly as he leaned in. But before he could, Jiang Ruotang’s palm was already against his cheek, the faint, subtle cedarwood scent of men’s moisturizer filling his senses.

Jiang Ruotang preferred him without glasses—this way, Lu Guifan couldn’t see his expression clearly.

He could openly touch Lu Guifan’s skin, drink in the elegant contours of his eyes, map the slope of his nose, the curve of his chin.

Even if it lasted only mere seconds, a honeyed secret thrill pooled warm in Jiang Ruotang’s heart.

"Class President, you're not studying anymore, right?"

"It's too late, of course not."

"Awesome, let's sleep." Instead of going around to the other side of the bed, Jiang Ruotang clambered over Lu Guifan, rolling right over him.

Lu Guifan instinctively raised his hand to brace him, and the moment his fingers wrapped around Jiang Ruotang’s waist, the real, warm sensation nearly seared through him. He wanted to grip tighter, squeeze hard, make this brat who stirred such inexplicable emotions in him cry out in pain.

But Jiang Ruotang had already dug under the covers.

Lu Guifan shifted toward the edge of the bed, feeling the rough texture of his pajamas might irritate Jiang Ruotang's skin.

Yet Jiang Ruotang gently held him back. "We're sharing one blanket. If you stay so far away, we'll both get cold."

Lu Guifan moved slightly closer, and Jiang Ruotang’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in.

"Class President, you're not used to sleeping with someone, are you? If I’m bothering you too much, I can go sleep with Lin Lu and the others," Jiang Ruotang asked.

Perhaps because they were so close, Jiang Ruotang’s warm breath fanned over Lu Guifan in waves, setting his nerves on edge yet also addicted, instinctively seeking more.

"My... pajamas are old and rough. I don’t want them to make you uncomfortable."

"Huh? I’m no Princess and the Pea, I’m not that delicate." Jiang Ruotang gazed at Lu Guifan’s face, his heart full of happiness as he snuggled closer. "But now that you mention it, I’m curious—can I check how rough they are? How rough can they be?"

Lu Guifan realized that whenever Jiang Ruotang openly voiced his desires, he couldn’t refuse.

"You’re such a kid. They’re pilled up—nothing worth feeling."

"Touching won’t make you lose a piece of flesh." Jiang Ruotang’s palm pressed against Lu Guifan’s back, lightly stroking, savoring the nubby texture of the tiny lint balls, inexplicably addicted.

For Lu Guifan, it was torture—not just Jiang Ruotang’s palm, but his fingertips tracing over his shoulder blades through the coarse fabric. It took every ounce of his willpower to stay relaxed.

"How long are you going to keep touching?" Lu Guifan finally spoke.

Only then did he realize his voice had gone deep and rough. He wondered if Jiang Ruotang noticed.

"Fine, I’ll stop. But those little pills feel really interesting under my fingers. When I was little, I couldn’t sleep without fiddling with my baby blanket—it had lint balls too, just like your pajamas."

Even in the dark with his bad vision, Lu Guifan could imagine Jiang Ruotang’s eyes crinkling, lips curved in a smile.

"Class President..." Jiang Ruotang’s voice broke the silence.

"What is it?"

"I’m itchy. Can you scratch it for me?"

Lu Guifan let out a quiet sigh, unsure if Jiang Ruotang’s fidgeting had infected him—his own mind itching now too.

"Where?"

"Under my right shoulder blade."

As he spoke, Jiang Ruotang turned his back to Lu Guifan, his movement sending a waft that carried his scent.

Lu Guifan scratched lightly over the fabric, but Jiang Ruotang squirmed dissatisfied. "Ugh, scratching through fabric does nothing—just go under the shirt!"

He tugged his pajama top up slightly, signaling for Lu Guifan to slip his hand beneath.

Lu Guifan froze, his throat working.

After a long pause with no movement, Jiang Ruotang seemed to think better of it. He turned back hesitantly. "Never mind... I’ll do it myself..."

"It’s fine. I’ll help." Lu Guifan’s hand slid under, lightly skimming Jiang Ruotang’s back. "Here?"

"Higher... a little to the left..." Jiang Ruotang arched his back, pressing into Lu Guifan’s fingers. "Haha, come on, Class President, press harder! You’re not tickling a kitten!"

"Kitten? More like a mud-wallowing piglet, rubbing against me like a tree."

The comparison made Jiang Ruotang laugh, and Lu Guifan’s fingertips felt the vibrations from his chest, his own heart resonating in response. The uncontrollable wave of feeling kept returning, relentless.

After a while, Lu Guifan’s hand stilled, resting lightly below Jiang Ruotang’s shoulder blade. "Sleep now?"

"Mhm, sleep." Jiang Ruotang’s voice was drowsy, soft and obedient.

Only after a long moment did Lu Guifan withdraw his hand, carefully tugging Jiang Ruotang’s pajama top down to cover his lower back.

His palm and fingertips still held the lingering warmth and touch.

Perhaps it was the unfamiliar environment, but Lu Guifan felt no trace of sleepiness, leaving him hyper-aware of Jiang Ruotang beside him.

Curled slightly, one hand on the pillow, his breathing was steady—maybe already asleep.

Lu Guifan flexed his fingers. This was the first time he’d ever wanted to reach out and touch someone.

The quieter it was, the more endless the imagination grew.

Like that pretend kiss when we were singing—he’d never known someone’s closeness could bring such intense, intricate sensations. Even the slightest brush of their noses had felt like a flood crashing into his heart, threatening to breach its walls.