Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Wen Qiu ate a strawberry, thinking how strange it was that one person—Ji Liao—could make the whole villa feel so lively.

Since it was late, Ji Liao didn't make anything too complicated.

A plate of spicy stir-fried beef, a plate of spicy stir-fried vegetables, and a cold dish to go with them.

He set them on the table.

Wen Qiu had already poured the wine—two goblets, each filled with red wine.

"Since we're drinking wine, should I be pan-frying steak?"

Ji Liao set down the plates and sought Wen Qiu's opinion.

"It's all the same, don't go to the trouble." Wen Qiu wasn't picky—red wine with spicy food, eating it without batting an eye.

Ji Liao chuckled and immediately sat down.

The two were silent for a moment, each drinking their own. The red wine wasn't strong, and Ji Liao secretly wondered how much he'd have to drink to get Wen Qiu drunk.

Just as he was racking his brain for a topic to go with the wine, his phone clattered, signaling a new message.

Ji Liao picked it up—it was from Chen Zili:

"It's over, I'm crying my eyes out, why! Why!!!"

Ji Liao understood how Chen Zili felt, and before he could reply, a second message came:

"We're going for a group dinner, where did you go? Back to school? Thanks for tonight, I'd regret missing this concert for the rest of my life, wahhh!"

Ji Liao replied:

"I have something tonight so I'm not going back to school. Take care of yourself, and don't stay out too late."

"Head pat.JPG"

After sending, he placed his phone face-down on the table and only then noticed Wen Qiu's gaze fixed on him.

"He's my roommate," Ji Liao quickly explained. "The concert's over, and he's going to a gathering with other fans."

Wen Qiu's reaction was cold—a mere "mm"—before he slowly asked: "You're pretty close with your roommate?"

Ji Liao took a sip of wine and nodded: "I think so. My roommates are all great people, and they treat me well. We get along really well, no conflicts."

This wine—he had no idea where it came from—was sweet on entry, without any harshness. As the liquid went down his throat, a hint of sweetness lingered on his tongue.

Pretty tasty.

Just as he finished speaking, Ji Liao glanced at Wen Qiu's expression and, struck by a sudden inspiration, added: "Of course, no matter how good school is, it's not as good as here—being able to see Mr. Wen every day."

The flattery was loud and clear, and after saying it, Ji Liao gave himself a mental high-five, downing his glass in one go.

"This wine's really good, I'll have some more." Ji Liao poured himself another glass while asking: "Does Mr. Wen want some more?"

Wen Qiu's pour had only covered the bottom of the glass, and now it was empty too.

Whether it was his imagination or not, Ji Liao felt Wen Qiu's expression had softened slightly.

Wen Qiu pushed his glass forward and nodded.

Ji Liao didn't hesitate, pouring Wen Qiu a big glass with a "glug, glug, glug."

"We're at home, so we can drink as much as we want, right?" He pushed the wine toward Wen Qiu.

Wen Qiu gave him a look that was half-smile, half-not. "Fine."

"Heh heh." Ji Liao grinned again, picking up his glass to drink.

*

An hour later, Ji Liao felt like his chopsticks were spinning.

"Ji Liao, you're drunk."

Wen Qiu's voice was calm and even, with no sign of any "beastly urges" whatsoever.

Ji Liao wasn't having it.

"I'm not drunk."

He shook his head, insisting, "I'm just a little dizzy."

Wen Qiu didn't argue, just silently drank his own.

Ji Liao's head was spinning, and his limbs felt all floaty. He simply slumped onto the table and tilted his head to look at Wen Qiu.

When they went to the concert, Wen Qiu had worn a shirt, trousers, and a trench coat. Now back in his own space, he had changed into loose, soft loungewear. Even though his hairstyle and glasses hadn't changed, he was much more relaxed overall.

His pale, cool-toned skin was faintly flushed from the alcohol, and the red wine against his lips looked all the more vivid.

So beautiful.

He couldn't figure it out.

He really couldn't figure it out.

"Wen Qiu, don't be so sad." He lifted his head and said:

"If I were Lou Yue, I'd definitely pick you."

"?"

As he spoke, Ji Liao grew dejected again, and with a "thud," his forehead slammed onto the table:

"Too bad I'm not Lou Yue. I'm not good enough."

Wen Qiu was speechless.

Hesitantly, Wen Qiu reached out and gently rubbed the back of Ji Liao's head.

"You really do like me?"

Ji Liao's voice was muffled. "It's hard not to like you."

He lifted his head again, stared at Wen Qiu, and said seriously: "You're handsome, capable, loyal to your friends, and generous to the people who work for you."

He pointed at himself. "You're especially good to me too. You give me money, a place to live, and send me to school. Ugh, no one's ever been this good to me before. Only you."

Shaking his head, Ji Liao grew more melancholy as he spoke: "Liking you is the most natural thing in the world. Not liking you—now that would be the hard part."

As he finished speaking, he braced himself against the table, clutching his head, as if he were facing some huge problem.

"...Thank you."

Wen Qiu hadn't expected to make that kind of impression on Ji Liao.

Every step of the way, he always felt like he wasn't doing enough, and even Lou Yue's dislike of him, he blamed on himself.

Now here was someone telling him he was already good enough.

That he really liked him.

Even if that person was a drunk.

Wen Qiu couldn't put a name to the feeling inside him—it was just soft.

He wanted to treat Ji Liao even better.

"You're drunk. Let me get you to bed."

Wen Qiu cut Ji Liao off, and Ji Liao was obedient, getting up and taking a step with Wen Qiu's help.

Then he went down hard on his knees.

Wen Qiu's eyes went wide!

"I'm fine!"

Ji Liao's legs were like jelly, but he didn't seem to feel any pain as he tried to stand again.

Wen Qiu tried to help, but the drunk, unsteady on his feet, kept falling back down.

Wen Qiu gave up on that.

"Hold on to me."

With that command, Wen Qiu scooped Ji Liao up in a bridal carry.

"Ah!"

Startled, Ji Liao flung his arms around Wen Qiu's neck.

The villa's kitchen was fully decked out, and Ji Liao didn't smell of grease or smoke at all.

The Omega perfume that had been on him earlier had long since faded away.

Pressed against Wen Qiu's chest now, all he could smell was a faint hint of wine and a barely there trace of alpha scent—

his own pheromones.

That familiar cold scent was coming off Wen Qiu again, but Ji Liao, bleary-eyed and drunk, didn't notice.

Wen Qiu carried Ji Liao upstairs to Ji Liao's room.

*

Ji Liao slept like a log.

When he opened his eyes again, his brain was completely blank.

Why didn't the ceiling look like usual?

Ji Liao thought he was still in the dorms, stared blankly for a moment, then shot upright.

This ceiling, this bed, this furniture.

He was at the villa!

It all came rushing back—the concert, Chen Zili, Meng Shuyi, Wen Qiu, the drinking...

And then he'd gotten wasted.

He couldn't remember a thing after that. Scrambling out of bed, he saw he was still wearing last night's clothes.

He felt his neck—still smooth.

Nothing had happened at all.

Ji Liao felt a bit let down.

But then again, the last time had been just as weird, so this wasn't exactly a surprise.

Ji Liao settled down again.

He looked around but couldn't find his phone, and had no idea what time it was.

So he just took a shower, changed, and headed downstairs.

Sure enough, his phone was still sitting on the dining table.

The battery was dead, and it was already mid-morning. Ji Liao planned to charge it first, then fix himself some breakfast.

But as his eyes swept down, he caught a bank notification.

"Hua Bank Alert: Dear customer, your account ending in 7788 has received a transfer of 200,000 yuan..."

Wen Qiu's voice came at the same time: "You're up?"

Ji Liao whipped around.

Wen Qiu was standing upstairs, looking down at Ji Liao over the railing.

"Thanks, Mr. Wen!"

Ji Liao said loudly.

He was genuinely grateful—who would turn down cold, hard cash!

"Mm."

Wen Qiu just gave a noncommittal "Mm."

Ji Liao turned to head to the kitchen, determined to take good care of Master Wen!

He'd just rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to it, when Wen Qiu came downstairs and walked into the dining room.

"Ji Liao," he said.

Ji Liao immediately perked up: "What's up, Mr. Wen? Need anything?"

Wen Qiu just looked at Ji Liao.

Last night he was calling him by his first name, and today it's back to "Mr."

Looks like he's "sobered up" now.

Wen Qiu was a little amused but held it in, saying, "Move back from the dorms."

No other reason—he just couldn't stand other people's pheromones.

He really hated Ji Liao smelling like someone else.