Wen Ran focused on painting, unaware that right beside him, Luo Xiao’s WeChat was exploding—Ju Yaxin was fussing dramatically all over again:
Luo Feng rebuilt a family group chat. Ju Yaxin quit the group several times.
Luo Feng was busy with work and rarely said anything. Luo Xiao occasionally chimed in with a few nice, smoothing remarks, but most of the time it was Luo Zhengting sending voice messages in the group, patiently coaxing and soothing.
In the end, Luo Xiao pulled Wen Ran’s WeChat into the group and promised that they would definitely go register the next day. Only then was Ju Yaxin finally appeased. She even changed the group name to “Sweet and Happy Family.”
Luo Feng was about to die laughing.
When he was younger, he didn’t understand things like love. Sometimes when Ju Yaxin threw a tantrum, he just thought his mom was being dramatic.
When he grew up, he finally understood—Ju Yaxin’s “drama” wasn’t drama at all. Between husband and wife, that was called romance. In a family, that kind of fussing existed because there was love.
Ju Yaxin had been a wife and a mother in an environment overflowing with love. She could afford to be a little fussy from time to time because Luo Zhengting was a good husband.
Sure enough, Luo Zhengting—who had been chatting with him privately the whole time—sent another message:
【The last time your mom made this big a fuss was three months ago】
【So adorable】
Then another:
【Get up early tomorrow and take Ranran to register as soon as possible】
【Once both moms are happy, everyone will be happy】
And then:
【I’m logging off—your mom’s looking for me to cuddle and act spoiled. I need to go comfort her】
Luo Xiao smiled at his phone.
He looked up at Wen Ran, and suddenly thought of how Wen Ran could be clingy too—how he’d take the initiative to kiss him, climb onto his lap, bury his face against his chest and neck and rub there.
A clear smile spread across Luo Xiao’s face. He raised his phone again and snapped another photo of Wen Ran’s back as he painted.
What these men didn’t know was that, on the other side, at the spa, Wen Pingping and Ju Yaxin had already bonded at lightning speed—so much so that they were now soaking together in a milk bath, wrapped in large towels.
Soaking in the tub, lying along the edge while happily eating the fruit and milk tea the spa had brought over, Wen Pingping no longer talked about Wen Ran’s father or the hardships of her business days. Instead, she started gossiping with Ju Yaxin about the juiciest scandals she knew.
Wen Pingping said, “You wouldn’t believe it. His wife and his mistress were due two whole months apart, but in the end, they both gave birth on the same day, in the same hospital!”
“On the same floor, even!”
“The wife’s family found out—their faces turned green.”
“Oh my god!!” Ju Yaxin was fully engrossed. “Then what? Did they fight?”
“They did! The whole VIP maternity ward knew about it.”
……
Wen Ran finished both paintings. When he turned around, splattered with oil paint, he beamed at Luo Xiao, grinning from ear to ear.
He was truly happy.
It had been such a long time since he’d felt this level of abundant inspiration and desire to paint.
It felt like he’d rediscovered the version of himself who loved painting.
He smiled so hard his eyes curved into crescents.
Luo Xiao walked over and squatted beside him, looking at the paintings, then at Wen Ran. “Done?”
“Do they look good?” Wen Ran’s face was glowing.
He ignored the one meant for the gallery and pointed excitedly at the oil painting he’d painted of himself to give to Luo Xiao. “Do you see the brushstrokes in the paint? Look—each dot is separate.”
Luo Xiao looked closer. He’d noticed earlier—the paint in this piece had been applied dot by dot, the stippling clearly visible even to a layman.
Wen Ran explained, “It’s called pointillism.”
“There’s nothing special about it. People were doing this a long time ago.”
“When I was in college, I’d sometimes use it on purpose to show off.”
Then he said, “It’s finished. It’s for you.”
Luo Xiao looked at the painting. He didn’t understand art; he only knew Wen Ran painted beautifully.
“You said last time that the painting you did of me—you wanted to keep it, take it to the bedroom,” he said.
“Keep this one too. Put it together with the one of you and me.”
“Sure,” Wen Ran agreed. He liked the idea.
There was no need to move the painting elsewhere anyway. Luo Xiao lived here—where Luo Xiao was, the painting would be too. Perfect.
Luo Xiao then turned to the other painting. It was completely different—dark-toned, deep blue, almost black. At first glance it looked like a turbulent sea at night; look again, and it seemed more like a galaxy.
“What is this?” Luo Xiao asked.
“My feeling,” Wen Ran shrugged. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“I just painted based on instinct and how I felt inside.”
“There’s no concrete subject.”
He looked at it again and assessed it himself. “The color palette’s pretty good. Better than anything I painted in the past two years.”
Wen Ran stopped caring about the paintings, dropped his brush, and knelt up to kiss Luo Xiao. What started as a simple kiss quickly deepened—tongue brushing over Luo Xiao’s lip, sweeping his teeth, tongues meeting and sucking together.
Luo Xiao kissed him back, strong arms wrapping around Wen Ran and pulling him close.
After a while, Luo Xiao softened the pressure of the kiss. Still brushing Wen Ran’s lips, he said, “Both moms seem to be getting along well. They said not to wait for my dad—let’s go register tomorrow.”
“Do you want to?”
He felt he still needed Wen Ran’s consent.
“Register? Tomorrow?” Wen Ran pulled back, eyes wide and bright. “That’s so fast!”
Then immediately, “Of course I want to!”
He lunged into Luo Xiao’s arms. “That’s amazing! We’re really going to be together!”
Luo Xiao’s heart surged—and when his heart moved, his body followed. His large hands cupped Wen Ran’s face as he kissed him again, breath turning hot, lips devouring every bit of Wen Ran’s breath. His voice dropped low and rough. “Still want to paint? If not, let’s do something serious.”
One hand slid under Wen Ran’s shirt.
Wen Ran’s breathing heated as well. One hand pressed against Luo Xiao’s firm, full chest—hot, hard like iron, saturated with intoxicating masculine hormones.
Wen Ran’s voice changed, low and breathy. “We used it all, didn’t we?”
“Then… no need to wear it, okay?”
They didn’t even change positions. On the rug beside the paintings, Luo Xiao stayed seated as Wen Ran slowly sank down.
Fully joined, Luo Xiao let out a deep sigh from his throat. Wen Ran frowned slightly, enduring it—yet feeling good.
Even at such a moment that demanded focus, Wen Ran suddenly got distracted. Jostled, he said, “Where’s my phone?”
“What’s wrong?” Luo Xiao moved.
“I—I need to send… ah… send a message to Shang Ge.”
Luo Xiao stretched out his arm, grabbed Wen Ran’s phone from the foot of the bed, and handed it over.
Wen Ran tapped on his phone while being rocked, trembling as he endured it, telling Shang Ge that he was registering tomorrow.
After sending it, he tossed the phone onto the floor and lifted his chin so Luo Xiao could kiss his neck more easily.
The first round took forty minutes. Afterward, they moved to the bed.
Wen Ran sank into the soft mattress, lying on his stomach, his body pushing forward again and again.
Turning his head, he saw Luo Xiao’s hands and arms—so different from his own. Honey-toned skin, solid and powerful, veins and tendons standing out, radiating strength and explosive force.
Just looking made Wen Ran burn.
Luo Xiao’s breath washed over his ear from above. “Why are you clenching so hard?”
Sweat dripped onto Wen Ran’s back, like brushstrokes, painting on his skin.
They were completely unrestrained—on the rug, on the bed, and in front of the mirror in the walk-in closet.
In the mirror, Wen Ran saw himself—fair skin flushed pink, his whole body red.
He couldn’t stand steady and leaned back into Luo Xiao.
One of Luo Xiao’s arms wrapped around his waist. The dark, veined back of his hand spread perfectly across the width of Wen Ran’s waist.
That arm—solid, powerful—was completely different from Wen Ran’s slender, pale limbs.
The contrast in skin tone and build was intensely stimulating.
Waves crashed higher and higher in Wen Ran’s head. His breathing rose and fell like a roller coaster.
At first he only hummed softly, but soon he cried out—each sound falling into Luo Xiao’s ears like encouragement to keep going harder.
When they finally finished, it was already dark.
Exhausted, Wen Ran lay on the pillow scrolling through his phone and saw the messages Shang Ge had sent hours earlier:
【!!!】
【Holy shit, are you riding a rocket?!】
【Even rockets need boosters—you guys just went straight to the sky?!】
A bit later:
【I set something up for you—bachelor night party, coming or not?】
【?】
【Where are you?】
【??】
【Gone again?】
【Damn, don’t tell me you’re doing a two-person sport?】
【You done yet?】
【Still not done?】
【???】
【Where are you?】
【Are we still having this bachelor night? I already booked the KTV.】
Wen Ran instantly perked up and replied:
【Send me the location, I’m on my way!】
Then he got up and threw off the covers.
Luo Xiao, wearing only underwear, came into the bedroom carrying a bowl of fruit he’d cut for Wen Ran.
Seeing Wen Ran picking clothes up off the floor, he asked, confused, “You’re going out?”
“We’re registering tomorrow,” Wen Ran straightened up, holding his waist. “Last bachelor night. Shang Ge and the others are throwing me a party. I’ve gotta go.”
Luo Xiao laughed. “So much ceremony?”
He set the fruit down on the dresser at the foot of the bed, bent down to pick up Wen Ran’s pants for him. He didn’t stop him, only asked, “You sure you’re okay? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have worn you out.”
Wen Ran took the pants, walked over, stood on tiptoe—legs still marked with kisses—and kissed Luo Xiao’s cheek. “I don’t know what time I’ll be back. Why don’t you go grab a couple drinks at a bar too?”
“Sure.”
Luo Xiao kissed Wen Ran. “Go on. Don’t worry about me. Luo Feng’s around anyway—I’ll go have a couple of drinks with him. Might as well celebrate my last night of singlehood.”
Wen Ran clung to him and kissed him for a while longer—not just kissing, but talking too. “You were amazing.”
“The first two times you were still a newbie. Today you were obviously way more skilled.”
He was praising Luo Xiao’s technique.
Luo Xiao laughed and flirted back. “I’ll make you feel even better next time.”
He patted Wen Ran’s waist. “Go on. Wash your face first. I’ll change clothes and drive you over.”
When Wen Ran arrived at the KTV, the moment he stepped inside, the whole room erupted, everyone shouting at him:
“Holy shit, you finally made it!”
“Ooooh~~ Who’s this? So it’s Mr. Shotgun Wedding!”
The door closed behind him. Wen Ran raised both arms. “Eat and drink whatever you want tonight—your Brother Xiao says it’s all on him!”
“Aaaahhh—!”
“Wooow—!”
The room exploded with cheers.
When Wen Ran sat down, a bunch of the younger guys—including Shang Ge—swarmed over.
Shang Ge immediately spotted the kiss marks on Wen Ran’s neck and asked excitedly, “So? Big or not? Feel good?”
Wen Ran leaned back against the sofa, looked at the wide-eyed, buzzing group around him, and nodded. “Big. Super good.”
Then he added, “Just like in porn. Your stomach actually bulges out, and you can even feel it through your belly.”
…!!!
The little virgins reacted like they were watching porn for the first time—thrilled and hyped, yet blushing and covering their faces.
—
Meanwhile, at a bar that focused purely on drinking, Luo Xiao arrived to find Luo Feng already there, having finished one drink.
Luo Xiao sat down beside him and gestured to the bartender for a low-alcohol drink. Luo Feng glanced at him. “Why are you drinking with me? Not staying with your wife?”
Luo Xiao took the drink. “He went to a singles night party.”
Luo Feng looked him over, puzzled. “Then why did you shower before coming out?”
It was obvious—freshly washed hair and skin, the faint scent of body wash.
Luo Xiao hummed, took a sip, and replied calmly, “We just finished before I came out.”
Luo Feng was mid-sip at the bar. When it clicked what “finished” meant, he turned—
“Pff—!”
He sprayed his drink.
Luo Feng: “…?”
Luo Xiao: “…?”