Chapter 46

Chapter 46

After the two left the kitchen, looking at the empty hall, they realized that Shen Lanqing had once again slipped away without a sound. He only left a text message for Shen Gali, saying he would visit again when he had time.

So tactful—unlike him.

Shen Lanqing had indeed planned to stay a little longer to talk with his brother, but he suddenly received a message from Nan Feiyao saying there was something important to discuss regarding Shen Gali.

Because it involved "Shen Gali," he decided to go see Nan Feiyao.

At the dinner table, simple vegetables were transformed into a variety of dishes by Uncle Li.

This was probably the first normal dinner Nan Liujing had had since Shen Gali came through the door.

Uncle Li took off his apron and respectfully gestured with his hands: "Young Master, Mr. Shen, allow me to introduce this evening's dishes."

Nan Liujing thought he was overdoing it: "They're all common dishes. Spare me the pointless descriptions and set the table."

Uncle Li was uncharacteristically stubborn. Even though the young master said "no," he still insisted: "I used some new techniques in cooking tonight's vegetables. Allow me to introduce them."

He pointed at a plate of vibrant green bok choy hearts and spoke slowly: "This is the first dish of the night—Stir——fried——Bok Choy Hearts."

For no apparent reason, he dragged out the pronunciation with emphasis on "stir-fried."

Nan Liujing gave him a strange look, wondering what had gotten into the old man.

Uncle Li cleared his throat and continued: "The second dish—Sweet——Orange——Milk Custard."

Again, he deliberately dragged out the word "sweet orange."

Nan Liujing raised his broad eyes slightly as he stared at Uncle Li without a word.

If these words were presented in writing, he probably wouldn't grasp the hidden meaning, but with the deliberate emphasis, even a fool could understand the innuendo.

Strictly speaking, from the moment Uncle Li stubbornly insisted on naming the dishes, Nan Liujing had an inkling.

Three people in the room, two harboring their own thoughts—only Shen Gali, even if someone wrote out an equation and explained it in detail, probably wouldn't get the subtext. He just swayed slightly, hearing the loquat syrup slosh in his stomach, and lost his appetite for dinner.

Even though he hadn't cooked the meal, he still felt exhausted, his tired eyes drooping as he listlessly scraped the spoon against the table.

Across from him, Nan Liujing pushed the sweet orange milk custard over: "Eat this. It'll soothe your throat and stop the cough."

Shen Gali hated foods that were fishy yet sweet. Something as normal as eggs tasted disgustingly fishy to him, and adding the sweetness of oranges made it an absolute culinary nightmare.

To put it crudely, like putting perfume on a stinky foot?

Shen Gali said bluntly: "Don't want to eat."

Uncle Li urged: "Every medicine has side effects, Mr. Shen. You can't just rely on medication to relieve your symptoms—you'll become dependent. Why not try food therapy? It's tasty, healthy, and better in the long run."

Nan Liujing said: "Don't push him. Whether he eats or not is up to him."

Uncle Li: Young Master, you can't say that.

Shen Gali: Ha, that's what I was hoping for.

He put down his spoon and headed upstairs to happily lie down.

Nan Liujing looked at the untouched dinner, set down his chopsticks, and said: "I've lost my appetite too. Take it away."

Back in his room, he opened his laptop to work on files, but he was distracted.

Finally, he opened his browser and typed a line:

"My child is a picky eater and won't eat."

The search results were all over the map—some suggested shaping food into fun designs to attract the child's attention, others recommended cutting down on snacks or using a variety of tableware. But none of them seemed to apply to Shen Gali.

He wasn't a simple kid—at least not that easy to trick.

Then one answer with the lowest approval rating caught his eye:

"It's a simple truth. As an adult, you have foods you love and hate. You think you're not picky only because you have the power to be picky. Since you're in charge of your kitchen, you can avoid the foods you dislike. But a child can't."

"Also, picky eating in children may be genetically determined. Genes affect taste and smell—hence the cilantro debate. Rather than forcing a kid to eat what they hate for 'balanced nutrition,' it's better to cook what they actually like. After all, you can always make up for nutrients in other ways."

Even though the comment section was a war zone of parents arguing, Nan Liujing thought it made sense.

He hated bitter melon. His bitter taste receptor gene TAS2R16 was very sensitive, making him more sensitive to bitterness than most.

And Shen Gali was probably a supertaster, which explained his sensitivity to many foods.

Pretty impressive, really.

Nan Liujing took off his glasses, rubbed his forehead, and glanced at the clock on the wall.

Good, it's not too late yet.

He went to the kitchen, looked around, and saw a few fresh oranges in the fruit bowl.

...

Shen Gali was half-asleep when he vaguely sensed the sound of someone else breathing in the room.

He slowly opened his eyes. In the dim light, his eyes met a pair of deep blue, starry eyes.

Shen Gali closed his eyes again. Didn't see anything. Back to sleep.

"I saw you open your eyes," a low voice said from above him.

Shen Gali: ...

Terrible personality, but his eyesight's perfect.

"Get up, eat the porridge, then go back to sleep," Nan Liujing ordered.

With that, Shen Gali realized he was hungry. He sat up slowly and looked at the bowl in Nan Liujing's hand—a pale yellow porridge that smelled of sweet orange.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Sweet orange porridge."

"Anything can be cooked into porridge?"

"That's what the internet taught me."

Shen Gali leaned lazily against the headboard, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. He wanted to reach for the bowl but felt too tired.

"Tired."

"Are you ever not exhausted?" Nan Liujing's tone was biting, but he still obediently scooped a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his lips. "Open your mouth."

Shen Gali bit the spoon, and the warm, thick porridge slid right into his mouth.

Unlike the sweetness of pumpkin porridge, it had a refreshing fruity aroma. The rice's natural sweetness paired perfectly with the orange's bright sweetness. Two ingredients that seemed like an odd couple unexpectedly came together, creating a magical chemical reaction.

Just like Shen Gali and Nan Liujing—they looked totally mismatched at first glance, making it hard to imagine them getting along, but together, they surprisingly clicked.

In this world, maybe only Shen Gali could stand being around him.

Next door, Uncle Li was tossing and turning, still stewing over his disappointment.

Shen Gali had been in the house nearly six months, but the two of them had always slept in separate rooms. As they say, physical proximity is an important step in bringing hearts closer. Even though the young master was paralyzed from the waist down, at least the important parts still worked. So he dropped the "navel orange" hint, hoping Shen Gali would catch on.

But these two had a knack for turning any romantic mood into a battlefield. A perfectly good meal ended with them storming off.

Forget it, he'd get up to take a leak first and figure something else out.

When Uncle Li passed Shen Gali's room, he was surprised to see the light on. A warm yellow glow leaked through the gap in the slightly open door, quiet and peaceful.

Weird. At this hour, Shen Gali should've been asleep.

Curious, he peeked inside. A moment later, his eyes flew wide, welling up with tears.

The warm desk lamp lit up a small spot by the bedside. Shen Gali was leaning against the headboard, while the young master sat beside the bed, holding a bowl and spoon-feeding him one bite at a time. His movements were stiff and clumsy, and he could see the tense outline of his back muscles through the thin pajamas.

He looked really nervous.

And Shen Gali, slow in every damn thing, took forever to swallow even that bland porridge, but the young master didn't complain, just waited silently.

The old man forgot about his own need to pee. He knocked once and pushed the door open.

"Young master, Mr. Shen, still awake? Can't sleep? I happen to have a newly released movie, and we just installed a new home theater system. Want to give it a try?"

His words were all over the place—any fool could tell what he was getting at.

Before either of them could say a word, Uncle Li helped himself to the remote and started the movie, turned off the lights. He even pretended to "suddenly remember something," grabbed his coat, and left the house, strolling aimlessly down the street.

Uncle Li clenched his fist, tears in his eyes: "Young master, that's all I can do for you."

In the pitch-black room, the TV's blue light formed little specks in their eyes.

Shen Gali didn't get why he wasn't asleep but was instead sitting here with Nan Liujing watching some boring art film.

It was painfully dull—endless long shots of scenery, barely any dialogue, and no coherent storyline at all. Half an hour in, he still had no clue what this movie was even about.

All he knew was that, between scene cuts, the two male leads—complete strangers—were suddenly cooking ramen together under one roof. Amid the clattering noise and annoying background music, they somehow ended up messing around.

Tight kisses, aimless groping, their breaths mingling and getting heavier by the second.

The room seemed to heat up. Shen Gali heard Nan Liujing take a deep breath next to him.

He must be bored too, Shen Gali figured. A good movie would get the audience emotionally invested, sparking all kinds of opinions. But since the film was so boring, Nan Liujing didn't say a word the whole time.

It was boring—so boring it was irritating. And irritation makes your body heat up—that's just science.

Shen Gali didn't get it. Were movies really this soulless these days? Did the boring plot really need to be made up for by the leads' frantic groping? Or was it just to get attention?

To prove what trash this movie was, Shen Gali looked away, staring somewhere else.

But once his eyes stopped focusing, his hearing got sharper. Or maybe the volume was turned up on purpose, or maybe this fancy home theater system had 360-degree surround sound.

The male lead's heated breath and uncontrollable short moans seemed to be right in his ears. If you closed your eyes, the movie would bulldoze its way into your ears with sound.

Shameless filmmakers.

Outside, redwood trees swayed in the wind, their needles tapping against the window in time with something on screen.

Shen Gali slowly looked back at the screen. It felt like the blood vessels around his heart had swollen, blood surging through them so hot it could scald his vessel walls.

This was his first time watching something like this, and it quietly opened the door to a whole new world.

Beside him, Nan Liujing—whether on purpose or not—lightly bumped his shoulder. The September night had gotten chilly, and the AC was at a comfortable 26 degrees. But the moment they touched, Shen Gali felt a strange heat—almost painfully hot—making him instinctively pull his shoulder back.

Then he subconsciously looked at the person next to him.

Nan Liujing sat straight, his face blank, giving nothing away. He just stared at the screen, the blue light flickering on his face.

But then Shen Gali accidentally caught his eye.

He'd been watching him from the corner of his eye too.

Maybe it was the mood. What started as a shy, sneaky glance turned into a full-on stare.

Had Shen Gali always looked this way?

His slightly upturned eyes had a hint of allure, his moist lashes shaded pale irises now flecked with starlight from the blue screen.

Between his full, soft lips there was a tiny bead like high-ice jade, tinged with pink.

Nan Liujing felt an itch in his chest—like pain, but also numbness. His limbs started slipping from his control, bit by bit.

Shen Gali looked at him and saw something was off in his eyes.

This guy, who never bothered to look anyone in the eye, had been staring at him for a long time. His gaze had gone from sharp to distant, as if some intense emotion had broken through his usual composure.

Those bright black eyes were as deep as a murky pond, impossible to read.

Shen Gali clenched his fist. Best way to kill the awkwardness is to make the other guy feel awkward first.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked, totally ruining the moment.

Knowing Nan Liujing's arrogant personality, he'd probably say something like, "Don't flatter yourself—I was just looking this way. Think you're so hot I'd keep staring?"

Then he'd throw in a "Boring" and leave the room all high and mighty.

In the silence, he heard a low, raspy voice:

"Because you're beautiful."

Because you're beautiful.

Shen Gali was taken aback.

But this pessimistic jerk didn't buy it. "Because you're beautiful" could be a compliment, or it could be sarcastic.

He was about to look away when he noticed the other person had moved closer. A moment ago, he could see his whole face; now, all he saw was the tip of his nose getting bigger.

Warm breath spread, fogging up his vision.

Nan Liujing's intensely oppressive presence suddenly rushed over.

Shen Gali had never realized the bed was so small; otherwise, simply turning his head wouldn't have brought him so close to Nan Liujing's warmth.

Thump, thump.

Strange—why could he hear the sound of a heartbeat? Was that possible?

A large hand covered his Adam's apple, long fingers spread to cradle the back of his head. With a slight pressure, his head was pushed forward uncontrollably.

Closer and closer, the breath grew clearer, and that annoying sense of oppression intensified.

The teasing tips of their noses briefly brushed past. The blue light from the screen flickered and danced on their faces. The shadows cast by their high noses and prominent brow ridges darkened half of their faces, leaving only the warm-toned lips, clear and prominent.

On the other side.

Uncle Li glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed—the young master should be done by now.

Ah, what should he say when they got home?

"Young master, congratulations on officially becoming an adult"? Or, "Congratulations on hitting a perfect home run, my great baseball player"?

Uncle Li put on a grin that stretched from ear to ear, rubbed his hands together, and tiptoed lightly back home with light steps.

Uncle Li looked around and found that the door he had left ajar was now open. Twenty minutes to finish. Subtract fifteen minutes for the film to get to the point, and you're left with a five-minute speed demon. As expected of the young master.

Uncle Li chuckled and pushed open the door: "Young mas—"

Before he could finish, the smile froze on his face.

If forced to describe the scene, Uncle Li would say he saw the young master supporting Mr. Shen's head from behind, pressing down with an oppressive aura, leaning closer to Mr. Shen's lips. When his sudden entrance interrupted, the young master shot a piercing glare that could kill.

Uncle Li knew his salary this month was bound to be docked. To minimize the damage, he turned around and muttered, "Ah, no, wrong, wrong, something's off. I'll go handle it again."

His back was hot; the gaze threatened to burn through him.

Shen Gali, jolted back to some rationality by the sudden opening of the door, tilted his head away from Nan Liujing's hand.

Just as he was about to lower himself and continue lying still, his chin was suddenly gripped by an irresistible force, forcing him to look up.

A swift kiss abruptly descended, prying apart his lips and teeth, carrying Nan Liujing's unique breath as it invaded and occupied the entire oral cavity.

Teeth inadvertently grazed the tender flesh of his lips, slowly and meticulously nibbled the tip of his tongue, conquering every corner without giving any room to breathe.

Shen Gali slowly closed his eyes and thought:

Should I resist?

Forget it. Resistance is troublesome and tiring, and not necessarily successful. Given the situation, I'll just lie back and take it.

His hand, which had been pressed against Nan Liujing's chest, gradually dropped, and his expression grew placid.

A long time passed.

Just before suffocation, Nan Liujing parted from him.

Looking at the peaceful Shen Gali with closed eyes, he suddenly felt at a loss for words.

How could anyone fall asleep in the middle of a kiss?

He had truly underestimated Shen Gali.

At that moment, the big screen went dark. White letters reading "END" appeared against the pitch-black background.

The tedious, long film had finally ended. The impatient Shen Gali had never made it to the ending.

Nan Liujing turned off the player, gently rubbing his bright red lips with his fingertips, but unconsciously glanced back at the bed.

He had never imagined he would be this close to anyone in his life—without any scheming, without any reservation. It had just been the right atmosphere, the temperature rising. It felt more like seeking some kind of comfort, and then the thing happened naturally.

Nan Liujing pulled the thin quilt over him, draping it extremely gently over Shen Gali, and slowly tucked in the corners.

"Good night. Sweet dreams."

With a click of the switch, the room sank into silent darkness.

*

Late night coffee shop.

The dim yellow light exuded a slightly comfortable drowsiness. At this hour, there were almost no people, only a slender, tall man sitting in a secluded corner.

Shen Lanqing's fingers lightly dragged across the phone screen. The photo of a man with slightly drowsy eyes was endlessly magnified, the features gradually becoming clear.

He used a pink pen to draw two cat ears on top of the man's head, and a fine black pen to draw a few cat whiskers on both sides of his cheeks.

Finally, he wrote the word "Brother," and a small red heart.

Shen Lanqing held up the phone to examine it, one hand propping up his chin, the corner of his mouth curling into a gentle smile. His eyes, as he gazed at the photo, were filled with an unshakable tenderness.

At that moment, a tall figure in a black shirt stepped into the room. He looked around, then his gaze settled on Shen Lanqing.

No matter how many times they met, every time he saw him, all the worries in his heart vanished. A strange, fatal attraction pulled him step by step closer.

"Qingqing." Shen Lanqing heard a familiar voice above his head. He instinctively turned off his phone and looked up.

The smile on his face vanished in an instant.

Nan Feiyao sat down across from him, carefully observing his expression, and said softly, "Qingqing, long time no see. Have you been doing well lately?"

It was just a routine inquiry, but Shen Lanqing seemed to be gradually getting assimilated by Shen Gali. Even the most ordinary greeting made him feel disgusted.

Not interested in small talk, Shen Lanqing got straight to the point: "Didn't you say you wanted to talk to me about my brother? Spit it out. It's late, finish up and go home early."

Nan Feiyao's hand under the table clenched secretly, but he couldn't get angry at Shen Lanqing. This was the man he loved most, the one he treasured as if he might break if he even held him in his mouth.

He forced a smile and pretended to be composed as he ordered coffee.

After an eternity, he suddenly let out a breath of relief. His tense body relaxed, and he reclined back casually and carelessly.

"Qingqing, these days I've been thinking calmly for a long time. From unwillingness to letting go, I've gone through a painful and lengthy time." As he spoke, Nan Feiyao extended his hand. "I've figured it out. If you truly love someone, rather than binding them to you, it's better to let them go for their own happiness."

Shen Lanqing remained expressionless, his gaze wavering as it swept over the outstretched hand.

"Though I was reluctant to admit it at first, refusing to admit it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. To be honest, you have developed feelings beyond brotherly love for your brother, that is, Shen Gali. Am I wrong?"

Shen Lanqing's eyes abruptly snapped up, his gaze a strong warning.

He had never tried to hide his feelings, but having them laid out on the table and spoken aloud still made him doubt the other's true intention.

"And if I do? Are you trying to threaten me?" Shen Lanqing lifted his chin arrogantly, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "We have never had any blood relation. Even if it goes to a legal level, I have the advantage."

Nan Feiyao quickly waved his hands and smiled ingratiatingly, "You misunderstood. How could I do something so classless? I just can't bear to see you always pining for love, and I sincerely want to help you."

"Help me?" Shen Lanqing squinted. "You?"

"Yes, I admit I like you, so I understand your feelings. I may never be able to let you go in this life, so I decided to give you happiness myself, in a different way."

His words were almost too sincere. Shen Lanqing studied him for a long time, relaxed his posture a bit, as if he had let down some of his guard.

"How?" he asked.

"It's a simple fact. As long as Shen Gali and my brother have that marriage certificate, no matter what they think in their hearts, they are still husband and wife. With this relationship, any outsider trying to intervene will be condemned morally and even legally, unless one of them voluntarily proposes a divorce." Nan Feiyao slowly leaned forward, lowering his voice, cajoling.

"Will Nan Liujing let go?"

Shen Lanqing didn't dare to jump to conclusions. Not to mention the depth of their feelings, someone like Nan Liujing, from a big conglomerate, valued face more than life. Whoever proposed divorce would become gossip fodder for the public, and when it came to property division, the conglomerate would not be willing to take a loss.

"No," Nan Feiyao said truthfully. "But unless something unavoidable happens."

Shen Lanqing looked up slowly. The draft wind lifted the fine hair at his temples, allowing him to see more clearly the growing smile on Nan Feiyao's lips.

At the brink of the dam breaking, there was nothing left but to gamble everything. If he won, everyone would be happy; if he lost, it would be a fight to the death.

*

The next day.

Shen Gali slowly opened his eyes. After a moment of daze, a fine pain suddenly attacked the corner of his mouth.

After the passionate kiss, teeth had grazed the tender flesh at the corner of his mouth, like a sore, sending waves of slight pain.

Thinking back now, it still felt like a dream he had when he'd lost his mind. Even after waking, his heart was still tugged by hazy memories.

Strange and absurd.

Shen Gali had never imagined he would be so intimate with anyone in this life. He admitted that when it happened, his heartbeat had quickened for a moment, and at the very least, he wasn't that opposed to it.

Forget it, stop thinking. I'll just pretend a dog bit me.

Today was the shooting day for the new Lancer Jewelry advertisement. Shen Gali had woken up early for once.

After washing up and going downstairs, he was stopped at the door by Uncle Li, who called him for breakfast.

He subconsciously looked at the dining table and saw Nan Liujing eating breakfast as calmly and naturally as usual.

Although both were trying to act as if nothing happened, Uncle Li could ship them for ten thousand years just from the bite marks at the same corner of their mouths!

When he couldn't see them, how intense must it have been!

Hehe, he still had plenty of movies of the same genre. If they liked, he could let them watch to their heart's content.

Shen Gali had no appetite. Or rather, it was more like he was saving room for the lovingly prepared breakfast his mother would make him.

He said, "I'm not eating," and walked out.

As soon as he left, Nan Liujing slowly put down his knife and fork, gently rubbing the wound at the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

After a long while, he let out a light laugh.

He was in an especially good mood today.

*

In a narrow, dilapidated alley, a college-aged guy slowly walked through the deserted, silent alley while on the phone.

"Hey, let me tell you, it doesn't matter if it's real or not. As long as the deterrent effect is there, isn't that enough?"

"Look at your cowardice. Even if the police come to question me, so what? Bring out the evidence! What, can't I talk big online? Is talking big illegal?"

"Scrape, scrape."

Suddenly, he seemed to hear a strange noise, like the sound of some metal scraping the ground.

The young man suddenly stopped walking, stealing a glance back with his peripheral vision.

This was a hazardous renovation area, with warning signs everywhere prohibiting passage. Usually no one was seen, but the young man had taken a risk and walked this shortcut.

At this moment, the sound in the alley became particularly eerie.

The young man swallowed hard. Although it was daytime, the crisscrossing wires overhead formed a dense web, blocking the sunlight, adding a sinister chill to the alley.

Although he could dismiss the strange sound as a stray cat running by or some other normal noise, it seemed humans all had a kind of danger premonition, sensing danger approaching. Thus the sound became ominous and bizarre.

He didn't dare to look back. What he needed to do now was to speed up and leave.

The young man said "hang up first" to the person on the phone, concentrated on moving his legs, and strode rapidly forward.

But the strange sound behind him seemed to speed up with his pace. A moment ago it sounded a bit distant, now it seemed to be right behind him.

His back felt icy cold, as if thousands of ants were crawling frantically.

Out of fear and also irrepressible curiosity, the young man abruptly turned his head to look.

In front of him, a person in a baseball cap swung a bat at him. After a sharp pain in his forehead, his head buzzed, his consciousness slipped away, and his body kept falling into a bottomless whirlpool—