Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Eighteen years ago, Xuncheng, Huilong Village.

Three-year-old Shen Ling crouched behind a pigpen, both hands covering his mouth, giggles slipping out between his fingers.

He was playing hide-and-seek with a few other kids.

Shen Ling figured his hiding spot was a stroke of genius—a narrow triangular gap behind the pigpen, just big enough for him to squeeze into, with the pigs inside snorting and rooting around in their trough.

He peeked through the gaps in the haystack, watching the other kids run around without a clue where he was.

Shen Ling's eyes crinkled into happy crescents, clamping his hand tighter over his mouth so he wouldn't laugh out loud.

Just then, a hand snaked around from behind and clamped over his mouth.

The hand was slim, but the grip was scary strong. Shen Ling couldn't make a sound. He went stiff with fear and tried to struggle, but just ended up smacking into a hard, solid chest.

"Don't make a sound."

It was a boy's voice, and it sounded totally calm.

But Shen Ling noticed the hand over his mouth was shaking a little.

A few men in black Mao suits walked along the ridge of the field. A walkie-talkie crackled: "Young master, they got back to us—said he never made it out of the mountain pass."

The man snorted: "Turn around. Let's go back."

The footsteps faded, and the walkie-talkie static died out as they headed toward the village entrance.

The hand lifted off Shen Ling's mouth, nothing extra.

Only then did Shen Ling dare to turn around and look.

A boy around ten was crouched behind him, his eyes dark and unreadable. His face hadn't fully grown into itself yet, but the lines of his brow and jaw were already sharp and cold.

He crouched there, all covered in grass clippings and mud, his right pant leg ripped open, half a dead vine still wrapped around his ankle.

Shen Ling reached out and poked the boy's shoulder with his little chubby fingers. "Big brother, are you okay?"

The boy didn't speak.

Shen Ling looked down at his hands. There were a few thin red scratches on the backs—probably from reeds when he'd run through the grass by the road.

Shen Ling frowned, dug through his pockets for a while, and pulled out three White Rabbit candies.

The wrappers were a little crumpled, warm from his small hands. He held them out in his little palm. "These are from my mom's relative, who brought them back from Haishi. They're super sweet, but you're only allowed one a day."

The boy stared at the three candies, quiet for a moment. He reached out and took one from Shen Ling's palm.

"...Thank you."

He peeled the wrapper off, popped the candy in his mouth, then pulled a wallet out of his pants pocket.

He opened the wallet, slid out the bank card, and pressed it into Shen Ling's hand.

Shen Ling stared at the card in his hand: "?"

The boy had already stood up, brushing grass clippings off his clothes. He walked to the edge of the haystack, stopped, and glanced back at Shen Ling: "There's a hundred thousand yuan in it."

Shen Ling: "...What?"

The password is—

He rattled off a string of numbers.

"How much is a hundred thousand, anyway?" Shen Ling held the card up to the sun, tilting his head, thinking. "How many White Rabbits could that buy?"

The boy didn't answer.

Footsteps sounded from the other end of the alley. The boy clutched the three candies in his hand and stepped back half a step into the alley. The wind blew his black short-sleeve shirt, showing the lean line of his arm. Shen Ling was about to say "Big brother, what's your name?" but the boy had already turned and run off.

Shen Ling stayed crouched there, a bank card pinched in his hand, a few candies lighter in his pocket. He solemnly tucked the card into his pocket and muttered:

"That's a lot of money, wow."

*

The evening light filtered through the locust tree leaves and fell across Shen Ling's face.

After finishing his story, Shen Ling let out a little laugh: "...And then he shoved the card into my hand and took off. After that, when he came back, I even had his back a few times. But after I moved away, I never heard how he was doing."

"I still have that card to this day. Guess I was never meant to give it back to him."

Huo Yanshen stood in front of him, a weird look on his face. His lips twitched, like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.

Shen Ling was totally oblivious, savoring the memory: "Rich and dumb, that guy."

Huo Yanshen: "............"

Shen Ling looked up at him, suddenly remembering: "Honey, what were you about to say? Didn't you say you'd been here too?"

Huo Yanshen paused, then said without changing his expression: "Passed through on a business trip a few years ago."

Shen Ling let out a soft "Oh" and didn't ask further.

He walked a few hundred meters along the dirt road before slowing down, like a little robot running low on battery—rubbing his lower back every few steps.

Huo Yanshen's gaze fixed on his waist. "Tired?"

Shen Ling nodded honestly.

So Huo Yanshen took Shen Ling back to the car, planning to bring him to the hotel to rest first.

The car stopped in front of a building. Shen Ling got out and looked up.

Xuncheng was a small place—the inns he remembered were the kind of guesthouses outside the train station. But the hotel in front of him was clearly much more upscale.

A uniformed doorman stood at the entrance. Seeing them get out of the car, he came forward to take their luggage.

When the elevator doors opened, there was already a white-gloved elevator attendant inside, who gave a slight bow and asked which floor they were going to.

Shen Ling stepped in, pressing close to Huo Yanshen's arm. The attendant pressed the top floor for them.

Shen Ling quietly tugged at Huo Yanshen's sleeve, stood on his tiptoes, and whispered into his ear: "Honey, did you always stay at places like this on business trips?"

Huo Yanshen hummed in acknowledgment, then paused and frowned: "Sorry, Xuncheng could only book this level of accommodation."

"..."

Shen Ling, having lived two lifetimes, still couldn't quite handle this kind of capitalist devil's whisper. After a long pause, he managed to squeeze out: "Oh, oh. Thank you, honey. Honey's the best. QAQ"

The room was on the twentieth-something floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the old town of Xuncheng. Shen Ling kicked off his shoes the moment he walked in, stepped barefoot across the carpet to the window, his nose nearly touching the glass, and let out a soft "wow."

Outside the window, the night in Xuncheng was cooling down.

The lights of the old town spread out beneath his feet. The broken streetlamp at the mouth of the alley flickered on and off, a few kids chasing each other past it below. Further out was the sea, a vast expanse of darkness, with the occasional light of a fishing boat gliding across it like a shooting star slowly crossing the night sky.

Shen Ling pressed himself against the glass and watched for a long time.

He remembered that New Year's Eve when his mother sat on the doorstep folding paper boats, saying she would take him to the sea the next day.

He remembered leaving the paper boat on the windowsill, waiting day after day, until the pulp rotted into a mess—the boat was gone, and his mother never came back.

He thought of those nights in his past life, curled up in the corner of his apartment, the threatening letters slipped under the door. He thought of the fourth year after Huo Yanshen's death, backstage at the jewelry exhibition, the moment he died.

He thought he would die alone in a room.

But he didn't.

He woke up, back at twenty-one, back when Huo Yanshen was still alive.

Shen Ling turned around.

Huo Yanshen sat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, laptop on his knees, the cold glow of the screen casting light across his brow and the bridge of his nose.

Shen Ling walked over barefoot.

Huo Yanshen sensed his approach and lifted his eyes. Shen Ling braced his hands on the edges of the ottoman on either side of Huo Yanshen's knees, leaned in, and kissed the corner of his mouth.

After the kiss, Shen Ling didn't pull away. His breath brushed against Huo Yanshen's upper lip. "Husband."

Huo Yanshen closed the laptop, set it aside, and freed a hand to catch Shen Ling's waist. "What is it?"

Shen Ling shook his head and kissed him again.

He caught Huo Yanshen's lower lip between his own, tentatively licking at it with the tip of his tongue, like a cat lapping at milk.

Huo Yanshen's hand slid from his lower back down to cup his rear, deepening the kiss. Shen Ling's waist went weak from it, his whole body pitching forward as he straddled Huo Yanshen.

The sash of his bathrobe had come loose at some point, the collar slipping off his shoulder, porcelain-white skin glazed like fine ceramic.

Huo Yanshen's eyes darkened. ... Shen Ling flinched as if scalded, his lower back dipping while his spine arched up. The bathrobe had already slid from his shoulders down to his elbows, pooling there, exposing the full expanse of his back, the shape of his shoulder blades faintly visible beneath his skin.

Just then, Huo Yanshen's phone rang.

Huo Yanshen ignored it, his lips trailing down Shen Ling's jawline, over his Adam's apple, sucking lightly at the hollow of his neck.

The phone paused for a moment, then rang again.

Huo Yanshen's movements faltered, and Shen Ling felt his muscles suddenly tense.

He reached for the phone, and Shen Ling instinctively chased forward half an inch, his lips brushing against Huo Yanshen's chin.

Huo Yanshen glanced at the screen.

Caller ID: Huo Chengji.

He declined it and flipped the phone face-down on the ottoman, but the vibration didn't stop. Huo Chengji's name kept lighting up the screen with stubborn persistence.

On the fifth vibration, several text messages popped in.

Huo Yanshen's gaze swept across them. He picked up the phone, and the pressure in the air around him plummeted.

His father was a man of phone calls, of using the weight of his voice to make it impossible for anyone on the other end to ignore his presence. Sending a text meant he had exhausted the last shred of his patience with having his calls ignored.

Huo Chengji: "You turned down the Dingsheng meeting again today. You think I don't know where you are?"

"Your grandfather says you spoke rudely to his face. You sit in that position, and there are plenty of people waiting for you to make a mistake. The family ranking is written on the wall for everyone to see—you think being number one means you can rest easy forever?"

"I'm giving you twenty-four hours. Come back to Haishi. The Zhou family will be at the private banquet, and you know what to do."

...

Huo Yanshen set the phone down with irritation, not replying. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Shen Ling.

Shen Ling was in his arms, ... his skin flushed a thin layer of red, like petals that had been bruised.

Huo Yanshen raised his hand and gave Shen Ling's hip a light slap.

"What were you doing?"

Shen Ling froze at the impact, then buried his face in Huo Yanshen's shoulder, stubbornly insisting, "I wasn't..."

Huo Yanshen's eyes darkened abruptly.

...

In his daze, Shen Ling grabbed Huo Yanshen's hand and pressed it against his lower belly.

Huo Yanshen paused, then let his palm settle there, slowly tracing circles on Shen Ling's stomach. "Since when do you like having your belly touched?"

Shen Ling didn't answer, because he didn't know either. He could only let out muffled whimpers into the hollow of Huo Yanshen's neck, his fingertips curling around Huo Yanshen's fingers, refusing to let go.

...

Huo Yanshen pulled out a wet wipe to clean his hands. Shen Ling lay limp in his arms, eyes unfocused, still panting in small breaths. Huo Yanshen lifted him by the hips, carried him to the bed, and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, pressing a kiss to Shen Ling's cheek.

"Sleep."

Shen Ling mumbled drowsily, "What about you?"

Huo Yanshen didn't answer. He turned and walked into the bathroom.

It wasn't until the sound of water started that Shen Ling belatedly realized he was taking a cold shower. Shen Ling pulled the covers over his head, his face still burning.

Dr. Song said he displayed typical attachment anxiety in intimate relationships, that his dependence on his partner was above normal levels, and suggested he gradually build an independent sense of security.

He'd been reading about it on the high-speed rail this morning, thinking, yes, Dr. Song is right, I need to be independent.

But the moment Huo Yanshen touched him, all those thoughts flew out the window.

By Huo Yanshen's side, he didn't have to think about anything. He would always feel safe. Huo Yanshen would always hold him, whisper in his ear to relax, tell him what to do next. All he had to do was close his eyes and surrender everything.

He selfishly thought—if Huo Yanshen ever noticed something was off, he would confess everything. Huo Yanshen had no memory of his death in the past life. Maybe he wouldn't hate him. Maybe he would forgive him.

Then he could use the rest of his time to buy himself one chance to pursue him. If he caught him, he'd be his.

Shen Ling thought he was beyond saving. Was he really lying here in the afterglow, already scheming about how to win someone over?

When Huo Yanshen came out of the bathroom, he had changed into a clean shirt, his hair still damp. He walked to the bedside, bent down, and pressed a kiss to Shen Ling's forehead.

"You can stay here for tonight first."

"I'll head back to Hai Shi and be back before noon the day after tomorrow."

==========Author's Note:==========

Random red envelopes will be given out in the comments~

Bonus scene:

CEO Huo: Thanks for the ask. My wife and I are simply deeply in love—together for two lifetimes, we're in a passionate romance, we've hit our golden anniversary, we've had kids, and we've reserved the next lifetime too.

Baby comes over to kiss Xiao Shen (tilting up face): Honey, can I pursue you?

CEO Huo:

Author: Could you two please sync up your progress bars first? Ps: The top doesn't tell the bottom about his rebirth because he's afraid of scaring him and making him feel especially guilty.