Chapter 185: I Thought So Too

Chapter 185: I Thought So Too

Jian Ruochen leaned against Guan Yingjun's shoulder, careful not to push too hard, fearing he might accidentally shove him against the car wall, creating a noise that would alert the bodyguards, driver, and Uncle Luo in the front seat.

He could only press lightly, leaning back, his eyes fixed on Guan Yingjun's.

Those eyes seemed to speak volumes, and Guan Yingjun felt as if he were drowning in their sparkling depths. "Alright," he said, ending the kiss as he listened to Jian Ruochen's muffled gasps. He reached out to wipe Jian Ruochen's lips. "No more kissing."

Jian Ruochen flinched at the touch, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, his ears burning as if scalded by hot water.

Guan Yingjun reached past him, rolling down the window. Cool air rushed into the car, dispersing the lingering scent of intimacy.

Jian Ruochen couldn't bring himself to look at him, turning instead to gaze out the window at the passing traffic. He felt a sudden sense of unreality, as if he didn't belong there. Guan Yingjun's presence had abruptly shattered the orderliness brought by nine months of police academy life, pulling him back into the everyday hustle and bustle.

Hong Kong seemed to have changed a bit.

Several streets had clearly been renovated, old concrete sidewalks replaced, and some aged buildings and shops demolished to widen the roads into dual carriageways.

Cars came and went, tires gripping the fresh asphalt. No longer would vehicles stop for old shops selling Hong Kong-style pancakes; the vibrant street life of Hong Kong was gradually shifting, gathering in commercial districts and the narrow alleys of old neighborhoods.

Times were changing.

Becoming increasingly familiar.

Jian Ruochen leaned against the window, feeling the breeze, and after a moment, let out a sigh.

Thinking the kiss might have been too much, Guan Yingjun asked, "What’s wrong?"

"Do you think the neon lights of Hong Kong will disappear?" Jian Ruochen turned back to ask.

Guan Yingjun paused.

He thought of Jian Ruochen’s origins, the slight melancholy in his tone, and gave a low chuckle. "Since you’re asking, it must mean they will disappear."

Jian Ruochen stared at him intently.

Guan Yingjun’s mind was truly sharp, incredibly astute.

His intelligence was almost sensually appealing.

Jian Ruochen pondered why he liked Guan Yingjun—aside from his face and physique, it was this mind that captivated him the most.

As he thought, he rested a hand on the window frame, propping his chin as he tilted his head and reached out to Guan Yingjun.

The car seat was wide, and he couldn’t quite reach without moving. Not wanting to move, he simply beckoned with his palm. Guan Yingjun watched him for a moment, breathed out softly, and leaned over to press his cheek against the heated palm.

Jian Ruochen smiled and gave his cheek a gentle pinch. Just as he was about to speak, the partition in the front seat clicked unlocked, and he immediately tried to pull his hand back.

Before his fingers could retreat, Guan Yingjun caught them. He gazed at Jian Ruochen’s flushed face, turned his hand over, and kissed his palm.

Jian Ruochen got incredibly nervous, afraid Uncle Luo in the front seat might see, and tried to pull away again.

As the partition lowered halfway, Guan Yingjun finally released him.

Jian Ruochen withdrew his hand, tucking it between his legs, rubbing it subtly before removing the medals from his chest.

His heart pounded so fiercely it felt ready to leap out, thumping loudly with a sense of guilt.

Once the medals were put away, Guan Yingjun took out the simple band that had been left at home before school. "Wear it?"

Jian Ruochen extended his hand, and Guan Yingjun slid it onto his ring finger.

The cool metal band on his ring finger made him instinctively curl his fingers.

Luo Binwen’s gaze caught in the rearview mirror.

Jian Ruochen met it, his ears heating up again. He turned away, pretending he hadn't seen, and looked out the window.

Luo Binwen thought that if he were Jian Ruochen’s real father, he would have the driver pull over and make Jian Ruochen sit beside him.

After all, the Alphard had seven seats.

He clenched his fist, planning how to caution Guan Yingjun during dinner to cool it with the PDA.

But when the car reached the hillside mansion and Jian Ruochen rushed inside to see the food, Luo Binwen couldn’t bring himself to dampen his spirits.

The poor boy must be starving.

Jian Ruochen disliked British cuisine, but the Hong Kong Police Academy still followed British teaching methods, and the cafeteria, controlled by the British Hong Kong government, didn’t even serve stir-fried Cantonese dishes—just dry bread every day.

Jian Ruochen had long since had enough. He changed out of his police uniform into comfortable, cool home clothes, hurried downstairs, and flashed a cheerful smile at the mainland master sergeant. "Brother, what did you cook? It smells amazing!"

The sergeant, looking relieved to finally have work, wore a towel around his neck and sported well-built muscles from nine months of self-training. He grinned and pointed to the dishes on the table: "Sweet and sour pork, braised duck feet, spicy stir-fried crayfish, grilled lamb skewers, Shaanxi-style pork knuckle, liangpi with sesame sauce, stir-fried greens, pickled cabbage with tofu, yuxiang shredded pork, and scrambled eggs with tomatoes."

He paused, gesturing to the main dish. "And this one—Officer Guan’s braised beef. It’s incredibly savory, perfect with the Northeastern Wangkui pancake we made today."

The Wangkui pancake was thin, almost paper-like, folded into neat squares. Each person had two or three pieces. Jian Ruochen unfolded one—it was so authentic you could see through it.

The last time he’d eaten it was in Liaoning Province.

Among family, there was no need for formalities. Jian Ruochen sat down immediately, first trying Guan Yingjun’s beef and giving him a thumbs-up, enthusiastically praising how delicious it was.

Watching him, Guan Yingjun suddenly understood why, after one meal with a mainland official, a chef had been assigned to the household.

Jian Ruochen really did seem to adore mainland cuisine.

The last time he’d seen Jian Ruochen eat so heartily was when he’d tested whether Jian Ruochen had undergone plastic surgery with a pork bone.

Jian Ruochen ate with gusto, going back for more of the braised beef most of all. Even if Guan Yingjun knew the extra helpings were partly to please him, he felt his time spent learning to cook after work hadn’t been in vain.

Sitting across from him, Guan Yingjun watched Jian Ruochen eat, unable to get enough.

In his police uniform, standing under the sun as the top graduate, Jian Ruochen had seemed to glow, radiating the confidence and charm unique to a police officer.

But now, back home, out of uniform and in loose shorts and a shirt, he was once again the free-spirited consultant who loved a messy desk.

Both sides of him were completely endearing.

That evening, everyone sat together, watching Jian Ruochen eat, and each ended up having an extra bowl or two.

Later, Jian Ruochen and Guan Yingjun cleaned up separately and went to bed.

Luo Binwen sat downstairs, unable to sleep. Staring at the spreadsheet on his laptop, he suddenly turned to the manservant tidying the vases in the living room. "They must be exhausted today—surely they won’t... get up to anything, right?"

The manservant, noting Luo Binwen’s expression, reassured him, "Of course not. The Police Force is busy with drug busts, chasing Ninth Brother and Bao Jiayun. They’ll probably discuss case details before bed—nothing inappropriate."

Luo Binwen sighed, lingering downstairs a while longer. "Should I call Guan Yingjun down for a talk? Do you think... could that kind of activity between two men affect the young master’s health?"

The servant staggered, nearly shattering the vase in his hand, and mumbled evasively, "You'd better not call them. What if they're really... um... as long as it's not too frequent, it probably isn't harmful."

Luo Binwen fell silent, unable to focus on the reports and company affairs before him. He slammed the notebook onto the table and went upstairs to sleep.

Once asleep, he wouldn't know anything.

In the room by the terrace, Jian Ruochen bit the corner of his pillow to keep from making any noise. His vision went dark, the sky nearly spinning before him.

After a while, he heard a swallowing sound and saw Guan Yingjun lift his head, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Jian Ruochen was so overheated he could hardly bear it. He wanted to press down on Guan Yingjun, to get even. Though he didn't know how, he was willing to learn. But as he leaned down halfway, Guan Yingjun pulled him up. "Don't. Let's sleep."

Guan Yingjun reached for the water on the nightstand, rinsed his mouth and drank the rest, and then turned off the light.

Jian Ruochen pressed his lips together, lying down in the darkness on Guan Yingjun's chest, staring into his eyes. "Do you feel somewhat inferior?"

Guan Yingjun had done this for him twice but had never asked for the same in return. Today, when Jian Ruochen tried to take initiative, he was stopped.

"You really do seem to," Jian Ruochen studied his expression intently, thought for a moment, then leaned down to kiss along his collarbone and chest. As the man's breathing grew heavier, he said, "Is it because you're so used to taking charge during undercover work that you're uncomfortable letting someone else take control of your body? You feel unsafe without the upper hand. And maybe you think I'm too good, with too many merits and promotions, so you feel unworthy?"

"The combination of insecurity and feeling unworthy—is that why you subconsciously don't want me to help you?"

Guan Yingjun's Adam's apple bobbed, and his eyelashes lowered.

He hadn't even figured out the reason himself, yet it had been pinpointed so accurately.

Li Changyu was right—Jian Ruochen was his best psychologist. He could even break professional rules and freely fall in love with this psychologist.

He fell in love first, then opened up, and only then discovered the issues.

Jian Ruochen thought about this and laughed, his chest shaking as he slumped down laughing.

Guan Yingjun wrapped his arms around him. "You're right."

His voice was tight, almost nervous.

"Then we can take it slow," Jian Ruochen nuzzled closer to him, kissing him reassuringly. "We have plenty of time. Are you afraid I can't help you? Once you're ready, I'll get even with you, and you'll..."

The last few words were spoken so softly Guan Yingjun almost didn't hear them, but the words from that silver-tongued mouth gripped his heart, making him blush.

Guan Yingjun tightened his arms around Jian Ruochen's waist, his eyes dark, nearly lost in those whispered words.

He took a breath, steadied himself, turned down the AC, and held Jian Ruochen tighter. "Ninth Brother has sold the barbershop in Causeway Bay and is fleeing."

Guan Yingjun watched Jian Ruochen's reaction. Bringing up work suddenly was a trick Jian Ruochen had used on him before.

He'd held back several times, but now he could finally use it back. "We've notified customs and have patrols at the ports to prevent him from escaping to international waters by boat. We don't know exactly where he is yet, but we occasionally track traces of the goods he's selling. He must be constantly moving, always on the run."

Jian Ruochen was thrown off by the abrupt shift in topic. "Huh? Oh."

One moment they were intimate, at the brink of passion, and the next, he was talking about work.

Who taught him that?

He's picked up bad habits!

It definitely wasn't from him.

Jian Ruochen lay on top of him, dazed for a moment, then suddenly realized something. Under Guan Yingjun's teasing gaze, he exclaimed, "Wait. If he's always on the run, what does he do with his goods? He can't possibly be moving hundreds of kilos while on the run, right? But he's still selling. He must have a fixed base!"

Guan Yingjun: ...

He closed his eyes and said with difficulty. "That's what I thought too."