Chapter 71 Milk

Chapter 71: Milk

Morning light filtered through the gap in the curtains, casting a slender beam of sunlight onto the bedroom floor.

Shen Qingci woke from his slumber. The moment consciousness returned, he felt a heavy, warm weight pressing against his waist.

He turned his head slightly and saw Lu Lin’s unguarded sleeping face, along with an arm draped across him.

Shen Qingci’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He propped himself up on the bed and sat up, brushing that arm aside.

His movements had that early-morning languor and a faint, barely-there hint of disdain.

He lowered his gaze, his eyes landing on Lu Lin’s sleeping profile.

At twenty-six, the man had lost all his sharp edges in sleep. His brows were relaxed, his lashes resting quietly, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, looking content, as if he were having a nice dream.

Shen Qingci’s eyes lingered on Lu Lin’s lips for a few seconds, then he looked away, pushed off the covers, and slipped his feet into slippers.

The moment he stood up, a rustling sound came from behind. An arm snaked around from behind and wrapped around his waist.

Lu Lin pressed his face against Shen Qingci’s back, his voice muffled through the thin pajamas, hoarse from sleep and thick with a stuffy nose. He drawled, his tone dripping with playfulness.

“Brother~ why are you up so early…”

Shen Qingci didn’t pull away from his hold.

He lowered his eyes slightly, his gaze landing on the hands around his waist—knuckles prominent, fingers long and strong, bandaged.

“It’s nine o’clock. That’s still early?” Shen Qingci’s cool voice cut through the quiet bedroom.

Lu Lin didn’t answer. Instead, he rubbed his face against Shen Qingci’s back, like a big dog reluctant to leave its owner’s warmth.

Shen Qingci’s back stiffened almost imperceptibly.

The next second, he raised his hand to pull Lu Lin’s arm away, stood up firmly, grabbed the crutch propped against the bed, and walked steadily to the bathroom.

Lu Lin half-propped himself up, leaning against the headboard, watching the slender back disappear behind the bathroom door.

His long hair was a little messy from just waking up, falling over his shoulders, swaying with each step.

A faint, knowing smile slowly crept onto his lips.

Just as he thought.

Brother was completely clueless about romance, totally unaware.

Those stolen, careful kisses from last night, those lips he had gently held and then reluctantly let go in his sleep, those restrained, aching tastes… Brother didn’t know a thing.

Lu Lin lowered his eyes, licking his lips without thinking.

That touch… warm and soft, cool and clean, carrying Shen Qingci’s scent.

Brother tastes so good.

He wanted to bite down, to kiss deeper, to leave his marks on that fair skin, to fully, completely… possess.

A dark, sticky tide surged in Lu Lin’s eyes, like a bottomless vortex.

His breath caught for a moment, and his hand on the blanket suddenly tightened, crumpling the soft fabric into deep wrinkles.

But soon, he let go.

The dark waves in Lu Lin’s eyes slowly faded, replaced by a deep, patient calculation.

The timing wasn’t right yet.

Brother was only just starting to not reject his closeness, indulging his dependence, feeling sorry for him, and willing to change his plans and stay.

But that wasn’t enough.

Far from enough.

What he wanted was for Brother to willingly and completely accept him—not as a little brother who needs looking after, but as a… lifelong partner.

He needed to be more patient, to spin a tighter web, so that Brother would, without realizing it, become unable to leave him, unable to imagine life without him.

Lu Lin sat up, stretched lazily, and got out of bed in an excellent mood.

He walked to the bathroom door, listening to the continuous sound of water inside. He raised his hand and gently knocked, his voice returning to its usual gentle, obedient tone:

“Brother, I’ll go downstairs to prepare breakfast. Come down when you’re done washing up.”

The water sound paused for a moment, and a vague, misty “Mm” came from Shen Qingci.

Lu Lin smiled and turned to leave the bedroom.

The bathroom door opened softly, and a cloud of steam wafted out.

Shen Qingci stepped out, drying his hair. Droplets from the ends of his hair slid down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his pajamas.

The wet hair clinging to his face was annoying, so he casually pulled a black hair tie from his wrist and loosely gathered his shoulder-length wet hair at the back of his head, with a few stray strands falling by his cheeks.

He walked to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and took out a small glass bottle.

The bottle was half-filled with a milky liquid.

Shen Qingci picked up the bottle and gently shook it in front of him.

The milky white liquid flowed slowly, leaving a translucent white film on the inner glass.

He stared at it for two seconds, his gaze calm and unreadable.

Then, he picked up his phone, unlocked it, and dialed a number.

The call was quickly answered, and a respectful, crisp voice came through: “Sir.”

“Come to the villa later,” Shen Qingci’s voice was cool and steady, betraying no emotion. “Take something and give it to Feng Yuetian. I want to know all its components by tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

The call ended.

Shen Qingci placed the small glass bottle back in the drawer.

With his hair still damp, he walked slowly to the floor-to-ceiling window.

The morning sunlight streamed through the glass, casting its glow on his slender, upright figure.

He lowered his gaze, watching Uncle Fu in the garden below, carefully trimming the holly bushes with a pair of shears.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

Shen Qingci glanced down—a news alert had popped up.

The headline read: "Zheng, Zhou, and Wang Companies Declare Bankruptcy; Property Auction in Three Days."

His gaze lingered on the headline for barely a second, his expression unchanged. Then, he casually placed the phone on the table and didn't give it another thought.