Chapter 486: Day 14 into the Alien War Story

Chapter 486: The Fourteenth Day in the Alien War Novel

The wild boar hadn't been around these parts in years, but it didn't understand any of it—it just knew that the sweet-smelling two-legged creature beside it had given it something tasty, and it felt great. It wanted more, but in an instant, the two-legged creature beside it vanished!

It grunted twice, rooted around in the dirt with its snout, and when no two-legged creature appeared from the ground, it trotted off, confused but hungry, and went looking for food.

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An Yi returned to the bedroom.

It was ten at night.

He stood by the window, letting the night breeze dry the lingering traces of another world on his body.

Then a cleaning spell washed over him, leaving even his pajamas spotless and fresh.

He was just about to get back into bed when he heard a soft knock at the door.

An Yi walked over and pulled the door open.

An Cheng stood outside.

The eighteen-year-old had grown tall, his head nearly brushing the top of the doorframe.

He wore dark house clothes, his hair still slightly damp, as if he'd just showered.

The hallway nightlight cast a long shadow behind him, making his outline hard to make out in the dim glow.

An Cheng froze for a moment when he saw An Yi at the door.

His gaze landed on An Yi's face, then quickly flicked away—but a few seconds later, he couldn't help but look back.

His eyes were hard to read in the dim light, swirling with complex emotions—concern, hesitation, and a hint of something... held back.

"Xiao Yi," he said, his voice lower than usual. "I came to help you pack for your flight tomorrow morning."

An Yi stepped aside to let him in. "I've already packed."

An Cheng walked into the room, hesitating for a moment.

The room was neat. The small suitcase by the window was already zipped up and standing against the wall.

An Cheng looked at the suitcase, then at An Yi's back.

An Yi stood by the window, his pajamas stirring gently in the night breeze, outlining a lean, upright figure.

Xiao Yi was almost seventeen now... An Cheng realized this again.

He lowered his gaze, his voice calm. "Let me check if you missed anything."

An Yi turned around, looking at An Cheng.

Ten years had passed. This "older brother" who had stubbornly insisted on taking care of him since childhood had grown from a solemn-faced little boy into a quiet, steady young man.

But some things hadn't changed—like that earnest, almost compulsive sense of responsibility, or the focused way he looked at him.

Lately, though... there seemed to be something more in that gaze.

An Yi let out a soft sigh, his tone tinged with resignation. "Alright, go ahead and check."

An Cheng walked to the suitcase, crouched down, and opened it.

His movements were meticulous, checking each item one by one—the clothes, toiletries, documents, charger... confirming everything was there, everything in its place.

After checking, he closed the suitcase and stood up.

For a brief moment, An Yi caught a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

An Cheng went quiet. Lately, Xiao Yi had been needing him less and less.

An Cheng stood there, suddenly realizing he had no more excuses to stay.

When they were kids, he could naturally help his little brother tie his shoes, pack his bag, check his homework.

He could be close to him with a pure heart, without any hidden thoughts.

But now... he was eighteen, and Xiao Yi was almost seventeen.

He couldn't hang out in his little brother's room like he used to, and he definitely couldn't...

How could he?

Those thoughts that kept growing, that he could never say out loud—the way his heart raced when their eyes met, the way his throat tightened whenever he saw Xiao Yi smile... how could he?

An Cheng lowered his eyes, his voice flat. "Everything's here."

He turned to leave, but his steps felt heavy.

"Thanks, bro," An Yi said from behind him.

An Cheng's steps faltered.

That "bro" sounded natural and soft, just like when he'd coaxed the little kid into calling him brother ten years ago.

But An Cheng felt his throat tighten—why had he insisted Xiao Yi call him brother in the first place?

He wasn't his real brother!

They had no blood relation at all!

He turned back, and at that moment, An Yi stretched.

A casual motion—arms reaching upward, waist arching slightly back.

The hem of his pajamas rode up with the movement, revealing a glimpse of his waist—pale, taut, almost glowing like porcelain in the dim room.

An Cheng's gaze jerked away as if scalded.

He turned his head almost hastily and strode out, forgetting to even say his usual "goodnight."

The sound of his hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, quickly fading.

An Yi lowered his arms, the pajama hem falling back into place.

He stood there, looking at the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Something was off.

Something had felt off lately. Really off.

If it weren't for their situation—they were legally brothers, both adopted by An Qionglan—he'd already be able to confirm whether his suspicion was right.

But An Cheng... was a very upright person.

Ten years of living together meant An Yi knew him all too well.

Quiet and reserved around outsiders, he was composed and steady, never the least bit frivolous.

It was only when he was facing him that he'd show that focused, responsible look.

But that look, from when they were kids to now, seemed to have... changed.

An Yi was certain that, from a young age, An Cheng had genuinely treated him as a younger brother.

That care was pure, straightforward, and completely without any other motive.

It was only in the past year or so that the way An Cheng looked at him had started to subtly change, and the boundaries in their interactions had begun to get... muddled.

Sometimes he was overly cautious, snatching his hand back the moment it touched him.

Other times, he couldn't help but draw closer, making up any excuse to stay near him.

The way he fled just now...

An Yi walked over to the bed and sat down, his fingers unconsciously tapping his knee.

He'd been through a lot, and he'd always been sharp when it came to changes in feelings.

But An Cheng... An Cheng was different.

This boy he had watched grow up, this "big brother" who was so dead set on looking after him, this man who had responsibility and restraint etched into his very bones—

How could he be thinking something like that?

An Yi frowned.

He really had been keeping his distance lately, just to be safe.

After all, if he guessed wrong, it would hurt this kid who was so sincere with him.

But if he guessed right...

"Tsk."

He let out a soft tsk, laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes.

Then his phone chimed. He opened it and saw a message from An Cheng.

It said: [Xiao Yi, goodnight.]

An Yi didn't reply like he usually would.

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At ten in the morning, the departure hall at Xinglin International Airport was packed with people coming and going.

A gentle female voice over the intercom kept announcing flights, while the electronic screens scrolled through destination names.