Chapter 71 No Goodnight

Chapter 71: Not Goodnight

Setting aside the relationship with Shen Ci, which easily sparked jealousy and possessiveness, Shen Shiyan and Shen Sicheng shared a deep bond, as the Shen family rarely produced two such upright individuals.

At dinner that evening, Shen Sicheng brought out his prized red wine. After a few rounds, Shen Shiyan became more talkative, chatting idly with Shen Sicheng about everything from astronomy, geography, arms, and energy to Shen Ci’s second-year junior high final exam scores.

Shen Ci sat beside Shen Shiyan, unaccustomed to using a knife and fork, so he directly picked up the steak with chopsticks and ate heartily.

“I did improve a bit this year compared to last, okay?” Shen Ci said, a bit of sauce at the corner of his mouth, pausing his eating in mild dissatisfaction at the two academic powerhouses’ discussion.

Shen Shiyan instinctively wanted to wipe it off with his thumb, but noticing someone else nearby, he redirected his raised hand to grab a tissue and handed it over. “That’s just for other subjects.”

Shen Ci took the tissue and wiped his mouth, unable to refute Shen Shiyan’s words. English and Chinese were his strong suits—he scored full marks in English on the final—but he struggled more with science subjects. Last year, he could get 130-140 in math, but this year’s final only brought 112 points.

“I think I don’t have much talent. Xiao Song’s math is always stable,” Shen Ci said, taking another bite of steak.

Song Xianghan nodded and smiled. “Take it slow.”

Shen Sicheng drained the last of his wine and stood up unsteadily. “Exactly, Shen Shiyan, you’re too hard on our Xiao Ci!”

“......”

Who brought up Shen Ci’s grades first anyway?

Both had drunk quite a bit. Shen Shiyan was slightly more sober, giving him a mildly disdainful look before single-handedly hoisted him back to his room and tossing him onto the bed.

Shen Shiyan turned up the room’s air conditioning a notch. When he returned to the dining room, Song Xianghan had already taken his girlfriend back to their room, leaving only Shen Ci, lazily leaning back in his chair eating fruit. The raspberry juice stained his lips a deeper red, glistening with moisture.

Before he could speak, Shen Sicheng ran out of his room again, leaning against the doorframe, shouting that he wanted to call Xiao Zhu.

“Who’s Xiao Zhu?” Shen Ci grabbed another raspberry.

This wasn’t the first time Shen Shiyan had seen Shen Sicheng drunk, and his own head was starting to spin. He found the situation quite tricky.

“Assistant Qi,” Shen Shiyan said, walking over to try and shove him back into the room. “Probably.”

Shen Ci was stunned for a few seconds. Seeing Shen Sicheng nearly collapse onto Shen Shiyan, he worried about his uncle’s still-recovering arm. He hastily wiped his hands with a wet wipe and trotted over to support Shen Sicheng onto his shoulder.

“Brother Sicheng,” Shen Ci said, realizing for the first time how heavy Shen Sicheng was. He shuffled awkwardly to the bed, and both of them fell onto the bed.

Half of Shen Ci’s body was pinned under Shen Sicheng. When he tried to get up, Shen Sicheng pulled him back from behind.

Shen Ci shot a pleading look at Shen Shiyan, whose expression at the door was far from pleased.

After two seconds of silence, Shen Shiyan roughly calculated the time difference between Ethas and Yuncheng, pulled out his phone, and dialed Qi Zizhu’s number.

“Hello, President Shen, what are your orders?” The call was quickly answered.

Shen Shiyan put it on speaker, held the phone to Shen Sicheng’s ear, and said flatly, “Shen Sicheng seems to be looking for you. He’s drunk.”

There was a silence on the other end before a soft voice called Shen Sicheng’s name.

Hearing Qi Zizhu’s voice, Shen Sicheng let go of Shen Ci.

Shen Shiyan left his phone, grabbed Shen Ci, and left the room, locking the door behind him.

The soundproofing was too good. Shen Ci pressed his ear to the door but heard nothing.

Shen Shiyan hadn’t even checked the alcohol content when he drank, and Shen Sicheng had mixed in some hard liquor for him. Now the alcohol hit him hard, making him sway unsteadily, his eyes heavy and unable to open.

Shen Ci planned to make one more effort for his uncle’s love life and lifelong happiness. But before he could press his ear to the door again, a weight landed on his shoulder. The scent of wine mixed with Shen Shiyan’s cool, sharp fragrance brushed half his face. Shen Ci’s heart pounded. Turning his head slightly, he could see Shen Shiyan’s hair and profile—straight nose, long straight eyelashes, occasionally fluttering.

“D-ddy,” Shen Ci whispered, not daring to move.

“Mm.” The voice was tinged with alcohol, tender and lazy.

Shen Ci thought he looked so obedient now. Though such an adjective was hardly fitting for Shen Shiyan, he was like a human cat, chin resting on his shoulder, eyes closed. His usually cold, stiff hair now soft, tickling Shen Ci’s ear, making it itch.

He even had a bolder thought: if he ran his hand through Shen Shiyan’s hair like petting a cat, would Shen Shiyan purr like a kitten?

“Back to the room.”

Before Shen Ci could act, Shen Shiyan seemed to have rested enough. He lifted his head from Shen Ci’s shoulder and opened his eyes.

“Oh.” Disappointed he hadn’t touched his hair, Shen Ci felt a bit sulky.

The rooms had been assigned earlier. Though Shen Shiyan’s mind was still barely clear, he swayed slightly left and right as he walked. Shen Ci followed behind for a while before finally giving in and supporting his arm.

Shen Shiyan paused in his steps but said nothing more, obediently letting Shen Ci lead him half a step ahead back to the room.

Late at night, drunk, in a room lit only by moonlight, half-dark.

Shen Shiyan sat on the edge of the bed, looking more sober than anyone else, though only he knew the emotions he suppressed daily were about to consume him.

“Then I’ll go back...” Shen Ci looked at him, stepping back little by little until his back hit the doorframe. “D-ddy, goodnight.”

Just as the door was about to close, Shen Shiyan’s reason dissolved completely in the alcohol, leaving not a trace.

His eyes fixed on the door handle being pressed down, he spoke in a tone that made Shen Ci sense a hint of whining.

“Not goodnight.”

Shen Shiyan still stared at the door as the gap widened, and Shen Ci poked half his body in.

“Didn’t you say you’d be anxious?” he asked softly. “Don’t you need me to sleep with you?”

Two very pleasant questions in a row. Shen Ci, who hadn’t drunk, felt his head spinning too.

He had been struggling all through dinner about whether to pester Shen Shiyan into sharing a bed, but because of the earlier educational discussion and the presence of others, he felt shy and chose separate rooms after much hesitation.

Now that dilemma was brought up again, and the one who raised it seemed to be inviting him to sleep together.

Shen Ci remembered the times when Shen Shiyan, in a bad mood, would pull him over to sleep, and it felt no different now.

Maybe Shen Shiyan needed him too.

With that thought, Shen Ci swallowed, stepped fully into the room, and the lock clicked with a crisp sound.

“Yes.”

Shen Ci’s voice was soft, carrying a hint of shy joy, pretending to be calm as he walked toward Shen Shiyan. But inside, his heart raced wildly. The phrase “butterflies in the stomach” from Song Qiuchi’s love letters flashed in his mind.

If the heart weren’t soft, those butterflies would have died by now.

Shen Ci dizzily drew closer to the intoxicating scent of wine, then dizzily lay down beside it.

Would D-ddy hold me from behind like when I was eleven?

Shen Ci felt a flicker of anticipation.