Huo Zongzuo couldn’t help but smile and reminded Jiang Luo, “We’ve only been apart a few days.”
Jiang Luo didn’t care and continued to act spoiled. “Don’t you miss me?”
Then he patted the man’s back playfully, pretending to be stern. “Say you do!”
Huo Zongzuo laughed. “Okay, I do.”
He patted Jiang Luo’s back. “Get down. It’s not good if someone sees.”
Jiang Luo climbed down, and Huo Zongzuo asked, “Still up this late? What are you looking at?”
Jiang Luo walked back to the desk, picked up several lists, and waved them toward Huo Zongzuo. “Just checking the fabrics and prices from our long-time textile partner in Guangzhou.”
…
Huo Zongzuo stayed with Jiang Luo until after eleven, and only then did they turn off the lights and leave the office.
“Let’s take a walk,” Jiang Luo suggested. “We just had dinner at ten; a stroll will help digestion.”
Two cars left the factory first, and Jiang Luo and Huo Zongzuo followed, walking at a leisurely pace.
The streetlights overhead made everything glow, and Jiang Luo said, “Shenzhen is different.”
“The roads in this park are especially wide, and there are streetlights everywhere,” Huo Zongzuo observed.
“More than in Haicheng, and brighter too.”
Huo Zongzuo walked slowly beside him. “How’s the factory? Busy?”
Their expressions were relaxed, chatting as they strolled.
Jiang Luo felt genuinely happy. After a full, productive day, and with Huo Zongzuo here in the evening, walking together after work, it felt… really good.
The night sky over the park seemed different from what he usually saw, and even the air smelled slightly different.
He liked Shenzhen and this park.
It was a new beginning for his career.
And here, he realized he liked Huo Zongzuo.
Jiang Luo, full of energy, suddenly jumped onto Huo Zongzuo’s back. “Carry me!” he said.
Huo Zongzuo felt it was a little inappropriate in public but, seeing no one around, indulged him.
He carried Jiang Luo, their shadows side by side on the pavement.
Jiang Luo laughed and sang softly on his back, while Huo Zongzuo felt as if he were carrying a mischievous child—and the entire world’s happiness.
Back at the hotel, Huo Zongzuo didn’t book another room but went straight to Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo, still not in pajamas, crawled under the covers and snuggled against him.
Huo Zongzuo didn’t hesitate. All along, he had allowed Jiang Luo’s closeness and dependence. He assumed it was the result of his own guidance and indulgence.
He wrapped his arms around Jiang Luo, turned off the light, and whispered, “Sleep.”
Jiang Luo draped his legs over Huo Zongzuo’s and murmured, half-asleep, “Recite a poem for me, and I’ll sleep.”
Huo Zongzuo thought for a moment. “When will the bright moon appear? I raise my cup and ask the sky…”
By the time he reached “…how like it is in the human world,” Jiang Luo had already fallen asleep.
Huo Zongzuo leaned down, gently pressed his lips to Jiang Luo’s hair, and whispered, “May we live long and share this moonlight across a thousand miles.”
The next day, while Huo Zongzuo was out briefly, Wang Chuang snuck into the factory office and whispered over the desk to Jiang Luo.
“Wait—you’ve developed to the point of hugging each other?”
He had almost died of shock yesterday when he saw them.
Jiang Luo, calm as ever, said, “We even sleep hugging at night.”
Wang Chuang groaned. “Same-sex relationships are really… different.”
“Not…” Jiang Luo began, but Wang Chuang interrupted in confusion.
“You like him, okay, hugging him, fine. But he lets you hug him too? How does that work?”
Jiang Luo explained, “He treats me like a kid, like hugging a little cat or dog. Sometimes I even call him Dad privately.”
“…You guys are complicated.”
“Let me explain.” Jiang Luo considered it. “We hug while talking, hug while sleeping…”
Wang Chuang was still baffled. “Huo Zongzuo’s American, right? Are Americans really this open?”
“If it were a girl, I’d be mortified,” Jiang Luo said thoughtfully.
“And, normal circumstances, a man wouldn’t sleep hugging another man, right?”
Then Jiang Luo dropped a bomb that almost made Wang Chuang spit out his breakfast.
“I sleep hugging him in just my underwear. He accepts sleeping like that, but he doesn’t… respond physically.”
Wang Chuang covered his eyes in horror.
Jiang Luo grabbed his hand away. “I don’t really understand either. You’d say he’s normal, but he lets me sleep hugging him. You’d say he’s gay, but he has no physical reaction to me.”
Wang Chuang tossed his hand aside, wiping sweat.
He was a virgin, obsessively analyzing all this nonsense.
Then he asked, whispering: “Does it matter if he… responds? What about you?”
“I control myself,” Jiang Luo said.
“You control? You just climb on him!”
“I endure it,” Jiang Luo shrugged. “Liking a guy just means a different orientation, not perverted.”
“You sleep hugging, and that would… trigger you?”
“What do you take me for?” Jiang Luo said, deadpan.
“It’s sleeping while hugging, okay?”
“Try having a girl in your arms like this—”
The door opened. Jiang Luo quickly sat up, composing himself. Wang Chuang straightened, pretending to leave: “I’ll get back to work. You two chat,” he said, spotting Huo Zongzuo as he left, secretly sweating for both of them.
Once the door closed, Jiang Luo leaned back in his chair, calm, and said, “I want the tea you make.”
Huo Zongzuo went to the built-in tea station and began preparing it.
Jiang Luo slid over, sitting next to him, pressing close, still watching his lists. He wanted to cling, and he did. Like boiling a frog slowly—he intended to.
Huo Zongzuo glanced at him and followed suit, staying close.
That night, as Jiang Luo curled like a little cat in his arms, his hands moved unconsciously across Huo Zongzuo’s front.
Not intentionally, just idle, resting hands.
Huo Zongzuo calmly held his hands. “You can snuggle all you want, but don’t move your hands randomly.”
“Hmm?” Jiang Luo looked innocent.
“Oh,” he said, voice just as innocent.
Huo Zongzuo didn’t see it as teasing. He just felt the night was hard.
Not only because Jiang Luo was skin-to-skin and clinging after a bath, with the fresh scent of soap and water, but also because the exposed skin he touched felt delicate, smooth, and warm.
He swallowed, throat moving repeatedly, suppressing instinct.
He held back successfully, showing nothing to Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo, with his head on Huo Zongzuo’s chest, inwardly fretted: “Does boiling the frog like this even work? Nothing at all. Would he react if it were a woman instead?”
Feeling a bit down, he tightened his embrace.
Huo Zongzuo silently steadied himself, suppressing his instincts. Luckily, Jiang Luo didn’t touch anything inappropriate.
Soon, after two lines of poetry, Jiang Luo fell asleep, and Huo Zongzuo exhaled.
He waited for Jiang Luo to shift, adjusted, held him from behind, and moved his lower body aside.
Huo Zongzuo sighed, feeling a little helpless, unsure if his indulgence was right or wrong. He feared losing control, being discovered.
He was emotional tonight, brushing a kiss behind Jiang Luo’s ear.
Kissing him, Huo Zongzuo thought: Step by step. No matter what, I’ll find a way to keep him by my side.
Huo Zongzuo never wanted Jiang Luo to become like him; he knew it was impossible.
All he wanted was for Jiang Luo to trust him, rely on him, and grow increasingly inseparable.
Cuddling, piggyback rides, hugging while sleeping—all of it, in his eyes, was part of gentle guidance, step by step.
He wanted Jiang Luo to see him, think of him, understand how good he was, and know that no one in the world—no one, not even young, beautiful women—could give him what Huo Zongzuo could.