Chapter 74: Kiss

Chapter 74 The Kiss

Jian Ruochen licked his dry lips. "Where are we going?"

"To eat." Guan Yingjun downed his coffee in one gulp, then picked up the orange juice cup. "Still want some?"

The paper cup had been sipped by both of them, yet only a single damp spot remained on the rim.

Jian Ruochen lowered his eyes, rubbed his wrist, and shook his head. "Too sour."

Guan Yingjun tilted his head back, finished the orange juice, and tossed the cup away. "Next time, I'll add some sugar."

Jian Ruochen flatly uttered, "Oh," then asked, "What are we eating?"

Guan Yingjun: "Noodle soup."

"I don't like bland food," Jian Ruochen said softly, pursing his lips. The side of his lower lip felt rough and a bit chapped.

Truthfully, he didn’t want Guan Yingjun to spell things out too clearly.

The beginning and end of a relationship weren’t like doing addition and subtraction—you couldn’t just add one or reset to zero.

Adding and subtracting could easily lead to a negative outcome.

He didn’t want things with the person beside him to reach a point of no return.

"Give it a try. If it’s not good, we’ll go somewhere else. I frequent that place—the owner is really talented." Guan Yingjun walked to the water dispenser, poured a cup of warm water, and handed it over. "Drink some water before we go. I need to stop by the office."

"Mm." Jian Ruochen lowered his eyes and drank it slowly.

His dry lips and mouth were finally relieved.

Human love was too elusive and uncontrollable.

Lu Qian had loved Jiang Hanyu with such passion it shook the city, overcoming all obstacles to get engaged.

Yet in less than three months, they couldn’t even keep up appearances.

As soon as something happened to Lu Qian, Jiang Hanyu cut ties, not even bothering to visit.

And Lu Qian, for the slightest hope of survival, could abandon dignity and love, kneeling on the ground spouting nonsense.

Jian Ruochen was confident in reading people, but love was another matter.

Guan Yingjun’s attitude toward him was calm yet intense, restrained yet measured, but…

What if it was just hormones at play?

·

Guan Yingjun went back to clock out and said to the team, who were overjoyed about being able to convict Lu Qian, "Everyone, head out early. Don’t stay up late writing reports. Health comes first."

Sizheng Liu smiled. "Sounds good."

Zhang Xingzong rubbed his hands together. "Should we pick a place to celebrate?"

"Let’s hold off on celebrating. We can do it after the conviction. I just hope we don’t end up with a situation where the police make the arrest, but the judge lets them go." Bi Wanwan raised her hands, pressing her middle fingers to her temples. "Just thinking about it gives me a headache."

Song Xuyi leaned against the desk. "That won’t happen. The media has been putting on so much pressure. I just got word that British Hong Kong politicians are facing a full investigation. The judges wouldn’t dare."

He added, "With Consultant Jian here, don’t worry."

"Wow." Zhang Xingzong slung an arm around Song Xuyi’s neck. "Brother Song, you’re saying things like that now? Before, you were like, 'Why bring him? He’ll just hold us back.' Isn’t that what you said?"

Song Xuyi quickly replied, "It wasn’t that serious. Don’t make things up. I’m completely won over by his abilities now."

Guan Yingjun smiled. "He can’t hear you praising him like this. After we secure the conviction, I’ll treat everyone. Praise him to his face then."

Bi Wanwan gave a thumbs-up. "Detective Guan, you’re the best. See you, Detective Guan."

Guan Yingjun picked up his briefcase and Jian Ruochen’s backpack and returned to the break room. The young man was sitting on the sofa, having finished the water. The rim of the paper cup bore a row of small tooth marks.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, but he pretended not to notice. "Let’s go."

Jian Ruochen tossed the paper cup, and the two walked out of the police station side by side.

The streets of Hong Kong were rich with character.

Yellow-gray buildings stood close together, with narrow gaps between them, crisscrossed by wires.

Signboards with white characters on red backgrounds, either horizontal or vertical, floated unevenly in the air, interspersed with smaller neon signs in green and white or blue and red.

Along the narrow paths, wide enough for only three or four people to walk abreast, food stalls were set up every few steps. Behind these stalls were small shops with entrances barely three meters wide.

Red-backed menu boards hung beside the entrances. The doorways were cramped, but inside, it was a different world.

Jian Ruochen’s eyes darted around, mentally noting the locations of curry fish balls and grilled fish tails as he followed Guan Yingjun to an impeccably clean noodle shop.

The boss was a bald older man who smiled as soon as he saw Guan Yingjun. "Detective Guan, what'll it be today? Instant noodles, cart noodles, or wonton noodles?"

"Two bowls of wonton noodles with pork knuckle, extra vinegar and two portions of chili oil." Guan Yingjun handed over the money and pulled out a stool at the square table. "Sit."

Jian Ruochen sat down and glanced around the shop.

The entire place was about ten square meters, with only four tables. The white tiles on the floor were polished to a shine, reflecting the light overhead.

The sound of the gas stove firing up soon gave way to two steaming bowls of wonton noodles placed on the table.

Jian Ruochen stared silently at the blanched choy sum floating in the bowl.

Seriously?

Detective Guan eats plain choy sum at the station, and now he’s having it out too?

"Dip the choy sum in the sauce." Guan Yingjun placed the extra condiments near Jian Ruochen. "Boss Qiu’s sauces are excellent. The chili oil is especially fragrant. Try it. If you don’t like it, just give it to me."

Jian Ruochen unwrapped his chopsticks, plucked a leaf of choy sum, dipped it in the sauce, and skeptically popped it into his mouth.

A sudden burst of savory flavor on his tongue jolted him awake.

It was really good.

"How is it, young man?" Boss Qiu laughed. "Quite a surprise, right? Lots of people come just for this sauce. It’s made with braised pork broth, crab shells, and shark fin—very fragrant. Otherwise, how could I charge extra for it?"

"It’s delicious. Your skills are top-notch, boss." Jian Ruochen finished both pieces of choy sum. "This might be the best choy sum in Hong Kong."

"Hahaha." Boss Qiu patted his protruding belly. "Detective Guan brought someone here for the first time. You look young but familiar—are you a cop too?"

Jian Ruochen said, "I’m a consultant for the police department."

"Oh, oh, I remember now," Boss Qiu went. "It's you. I've seen you on TV."

Just then, another table of customers entered the shop, and Boss Qiu turned to attend to the new guests.

Jian Ruochen lowered his gaze and took a bite of noodles with his chopsticks.

It was anything but bland—the flavors were rich and complex. The first taste was just salty and umami, but as he chewed carefully, the sweetness and aroma of the fish emerged.

The noodles were chewy and springy.

The broth was sparkling golden.

The wontons had thin, delicate wrappers, each one plump and full.

Guan Yingjun relaxed his grip on his chopsticks slightly, a smile rising in his eyes. "Is it good?"

"Yeah." Jian Ruochen kept his head down eating wontons.

"The broth is made from shrimp heads and shells, pork bones, monk fruit, and dried fish bones and skin; it takes twelve hours to make one pot," Guan Yingjun explained. Just as he finished speaking, the boss brought over the reheated braised pork trotters.

With just two bowls on the table, the meal gave a feeling of being overwhelmed.

Guan Yingjun, not very sensitive to heat, finished quickly and sat at the table, staring fixedly at Jian Ruochen.

The dim, yellowish light of the small shop fell on Jian Ruochen’s long, thick eyelashes. Their color was slightly darker than his hair, and when lowered, they curved subtly, making the upward tilt of his eyes more pronounced. His lower eyelids were darker, accentuating the area beneath his eyes, making them especially attractive.

Every detail of him was exquisitely beautiful to the last millimeter.

Yet this refinement didn’t hinder his eating. Jian Ruochen didn’t bite his noodles but instead coiled them with his chopsticks and stuffed them into his mouth, making his cheek bulge. His lips, soaked in the broth, their lotus-root color faded and turned bright red like rain-soaked petals.

He ate the wontons in two bites—the first to savor the pure flavor, the second dipped generously in the special sauce, drenched in it before taking the final bite.

Jian Ruochen finished by lifting the bowl to drink every last drop of the broth.

He set the bowl down, stared at the last shrimp inside, and burped.

He truly couldn’t eat another bite.

"Many things—you have to try them to know if you’ll like them," Guan Yingjun said suddenly, his voice deep and powerful, calm and clear.

The remark felt abrupt. Jian Ruochen lifted his eyes, his amber irises clear and perceptive like a curved bay, bright and insightful. "Are you talking about people or the noodles?"

Guan Yingjun replied, "It’s the same."

He stood up. "Let’s go. We can talk while walking."

Jian Ruochen took a tissue, wiped his face and hands, and followed Guan Yingjun through the twisting and turning alleys.

They stepped over moss-covered stairs, crossed scattered railings, and gradually climbed higher until they reached the rooftop of a small hillside inn.

Guan Yingjun walked to a metal garden chair facing the night view and sat down.

A breeze blew past as Jian Ruochen took a seat beside him.

The two sat in silence for a moment.

"When I first started working undercover and hadn’t yet infiltrated the target’s social circle, I often came here," Guan Yingjun said, pointing to the brightest area among the scattered lights in the distance. "That was the stronghold of the Tianshan Society. Five years ago, the police took it down, and it’s now a public welfare nursing home."

Jian Ruochen gazed for a while. "It’s beautiful."

Guan Yingjun’s corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he turned to look at the person beside him.

The night wind lifted the strands of hair that had escaped Jian Ruochen’s braid, one catching on his small nose. His nose was rounded at the tip, with a straight bridge and well-defined root, straight and perky, quite good-looking.

Guan Yingjun’s breath halted. He knew that once he spoke his next words, everything would change. But love was unreasonable, and at his age, he couldn’t wait for the junior to figure it out first. He had to try.

Jian Ruochen was too good at gauging boundaries in relationships.

If he didn’t speak now, perhaps they would remain like this forever.

Guan Yingjun stared at Jian Ruochen. "Would you like to try things with me?"

Jian Ruochen looked down at the scattered lights below but found himself thinking of the bowl of noodles he had just eaten.

It had seemed ordinary at first glance, but its flavors were rich and full of surprises.

Even the plain boiled vegetables he usually disliked had tasted different in that bowl.

It was like Guan Yingjun himself.

On the surface, he appeared stern, detached, solely focused on the truth and his cases—almost unapproachable.

But in reality, his heart was warm, scorching hot.

Guan Yingjun reached out, brushing away the hair about to blow into Jian Ruochen’s mouth. Then he opened his palm, pressing it against the youth’s cheek, his gaze deep and intense. "Since you've developed feelings, why not give it a try?"

Jian Ruochen shuddered, whether from being touched or the heat.

He took a deep breath. "If we end up separating, I won’t be able to pretend nothing happened. And you might not be able to handle the consequences of being with me. No children, criticism from others, possible damage to your political career… Lei Jinwen and Chen Yunchuan might not approve. Any one of those could make you back out."

Jian Ruochen lowered his voice. "Isn’t things as they are now good enough? Friendship is more stable, and I don’t have to figure out what love is."

Guan Yingjun laughed.

His heart was racing, his voice low and husky. "So you want a stable relationship."

Jian Ruochen swallowed, his small Adam’s apple bobbing. "Yes."

"How do you know I’m not set on you?" Guan Yingjun’s eyes swept over Jian Ruochen’s lips before meeting his gaze directly. "Do I look like I’m lying?"

Jian Ruochen looked at the man’s calm, resolute face, at the no longer restrained, flourishing emotions burning in his eyes. It felt so intense that he flusteredly averted his gaze, his ears slowly growing warm.

Guan Yingjun reached out, his palm cradling Jian Ruochen’s chin. Jian Ruochen had no choice but to turn back, staring into that sincere face that showed no hint of deception, acutely aware of the unusually fiery heat of the fingers and palm against his skin.

Guan Yingjun said, "Lei Jinwen and Chen Yunchuan already know who I like. You don’t need to worry about them. As for everything else, I care even less."

Jian Ruochen looked at the scattered starlight reflected in Guan Yingjun’s eyes, and his wavering heart slowly settled.

Guan Yingjun whispered, "Give me a chance to be with you. Let’s try—a month? If you think going public is too sudden or unstable, we can try in secret."

He paused. "I’m okay with any option."

The night wind was cool, but Jian Ruochen felt so hot his whole body was sweating.

He was an adult. Once he realized his feelings, his considerations naturally became more numerous. If Guan Yingjun, someone from the 1990s generation, wasn’t afraid of the difficulties, what was he, a new generation youth of 2030, afraid of?

He took hold of Guan Yingjun’s hand and removed it from his face.

Guan Yingjun’s Adam’s apple bobbed, thinking Jian Ruochen was refusing.

I’ve never felt so chilled to the bone, not even when staring down the barrel of a gun.

The teenager, having ended the physical contact, flustered, touched his flushed earlobe. "I have to go to school; I can’t just stay at the police station all the time."

Guan Yingjun understood. He lowered his head and let out a low chuckle. "Then two months."

"Okay."

As soon as Jian Ruochen finished speaking, Guan Yingjun grabbed his hand. His other hand moved to the back of Jian Ruochen’s head, cradling it, fingers threading through his hair, stroking gently.

The tingling sensation on his scalp made him shiver. Jian Ruochen asked, "What’s next, Brother Jun?"

Guan Yingjun’s breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Jian Ruochen, standing so close, even heard the sound. Since they were trying this out anyway, there was no need to hold back his teasing side.

He laughed softly. "You can’t just teach me how to feel moved and then leave me to figure out the rest on my own. Show me how to care for someone, Detective Guan, you— *Mmph*."

Hong Kong in February.

The night breeze blew steadily, trees rustling, shadows shifting. Scrub grass on the rooftop brushed against their ankles. Down below, pedestrians came and went, and on the first floor, a well-lit restaurant was filled with people chatting, laughing, and clinking glasses.

On the rooftop, Guan Yingjun was kissing Jian Ruochen.

He kissed him briefly before pulling away.

A touch and gone.

Their foreheads pressed together, their ragged breaths mingling.

Guan Yingjun whispered, "I like you."

Jian Ruochen was a bit dazed. He touched his lips.

Oh, so even the coldest, toughest man has soft lips.

Guan Yingjun chuckled softly. "Once we’ve confirmed our relationship, it means we like each other, and we kiss. Understand?"