Qi Ji rushed out of the master bedroom without even glancing at the path ahead.
This frantic escape didn’t feel like the time he had barged into the villa and caught Pei Yusheng half-naked; it was more like the moment in the car when he’d heard Pei Yusheng say, “You look the best,” and nearly jumped out to flee.
Back then, he could only imagine what it would be like. This time, Qi Ji actually acted on the impulse—so fast that Pei Yusheng, standing by the door, couldn’t stop him.
But Qi Ji didn’t get very far. He had been standing on the carpet, and in his rush, he hadn’t even put on shoes. Barefoot, running across the wooden floor and marble tiles, he couldn’t go very fast.
By the time he reached the first floor, the man chasing him had caught up.
A familiar warmth pressed against his thin back. Struggling, Qi Ji was wrapped in an embrace. Yet that all-too-familiar scent now sent shivers down his spine; every second longer was unbearable.
And that magnetic voice, now carrying an unbearably husky tone, asked from so close:
“What’s wrong?”
Qi Ji couldn’t speak. He was too flustered, terrified that if he opened his mouth, all his emotions would spill out. He could only struggle, desperate to break free.
With Pei Yusheng’s strength, Qi Ji had little chance of escaping—but after just a few struggles, he noticed the other man’s body suddenly stiffen.
Seizing the moment, Qi Ji slipped from the embrace and stepped back a few paces.
He hadn’t planned to stop; even though his mind knew he couldn’t outrun him, his body instinctively wanted to get away. But after two meters, he realized why the man had stiffened.
He had accidentally touched Pei Yusheng’s wound.
“I’m… sorry. I…” Qi Ji didn’t know whether to stand or run, so he froze, turned around, and forced himself to ask, “Are you okay…?”
Perhaps because of the pain, Pei Yusheng’s expression darkened slightly. His pale eyes seemed entirely shadowed. He looked at Qi Ji without advancing, the two meters between them feeling like an impassable chasm.
In a hoarse voice, Pei Yusheng asked, “Did I make you sad again?”
It was then that Qi Ji realized something was wrong.
He wasn’t good at reading emotions besides sensing hostility, but with Pei Yusheng, he had too many unusual experiences to ignore. He remembered the time he had turned around at the villa entrance and left—then, Pei Yusheng had chased him without caring about his own injury.
This time, however, it was far worse for Pei Yusheng—he had no idea what had happened.
Watching Qi Ji suddenly avoid him, reject any touch, fear pressing down like a thousand-pound weight, Pei Yusheng felt himself sinking slowly into an abyss.
Even Qi Ji, however slow to notice, couldn’t fail to feel the man’s emotions. His feet felt nailed to the floor.
Qi Ji still didn’t dare speak, yet didn’t want to make him feel worse. After a long effort, he forced his voice to conceal the tremor: “It’s not that. It’s my fault…”
That didn’t ease Pei Yusheng’s expression. He kept staring without blinking and asked, “Are you sad?”
Qi Ji shook his head quickly. “No.”
It was clearly Pei Yusheng who was troubled.
Qi Ji knew he should explain, but looking at the man in front of him, he couldn’t find the words. The painful memories kept gnawing at him, making him wish he could crawl into a hole.
This time, it wasn’t just his face that was burning—his whole body felt on fire.
As he hesitated, Pei Yusheng suddenly asked, “Are your feet cold?”
The random question made Qi Ji pause, realizing he was still barefoot.
Most rooms in the villa were carpeted, though some weren’t. Even with the climate-controlled air, the smooth marble floor still carried a chill.
But this wasn’t the time to think about that. Qi Ji was about to shake his head when Pei Yusheng stepped closer, hands reaching as if to hold him.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Qi Ji quickly refused. His master was still injured—he couldn’t trouble him further.
Pei Yusheng didn’t insist. “Then take a step forward.”
Qi Ji didn’t understand, but he obeyed. Unexpectedly, the man stepped forward too, and Qi Ji accidentally stepped onto Pei Yusheng’s foot.
“Ah?”
He tried to step back, but Pei Yusheng’s arm was already around his waist, gently stabilizing him.
“Your other foot,” Pei Yusheng reminded him.
With the man holding his waist, Qi Ji couldn’t retreat. And since he was balancing on one foot on Pei Yusheng’s instep, he risked falling. He had no choice but to place his other foot on the other instep.
Now he was literally standing on the man’s feet. Even with slippers in between, it had to be uncomfortable—and certainly rude. After stabilizing himself, Qi Ji wanted to step away, but Pei Yusheng asked, “Why did you run out like that? Can you tell me?”
Just a punch’s distance apart, every breath audible, Qi Ji couldn’t resist much longer. Stammering, he said, “I… remembered something… Uh, Pei… should I put on slippers first?”
Pei Yusheng didn’t let him go. “What did you remember?”
Qi Ji opened and closed his lips several times. “It… it’s about that medicine.”
Vaguely said, but both were sensitive to the word. Pei Yusheng’s breath hitched slightly. The hand around Qi Ji’s waist moved up along his back, gently stroking the back of his head.
“It’s over now.”
The man’s deep voice comforted him. “Are you feeling pain anywhere?”
Qi Ji realized he had been misunderstood. “No, it’s from the treatment period.”
Though prepared, it was still hard to speak. He took a deep breath and briefly explained what Zhang Wu had said.
Standing so close, even slightly raising his voice made his breath brush against Pei Yusheng. In this posture, it felt less like explaining and more like an intimate whisper between lovers.
As Qi Ji spoke, he was enveloped in that familiar warmth, reminiscent of when he’d been held offstage—like sunlight, comforting.
The more he thought, the more he realized his suspicions had been correct.
Finally, having roughly explained Zhang Wu’s words, Qi Ji hesitated but didn’t fully confess, only saying vaguely: “I kept wondering who helped me… that’s why I got a bit emotional just now…”
Pei Yusheng listened carefully and said straightforwardly, “When the doctors saw your condition was bad and couldn’t find anyone close to help, I participated in the treatment.”
Though calm in tone, hearing this confirmed everything more strongly than Qi Ji expected.
He stared at the buttons on Pei Yusheng’s chest, afraid to look up.
Pei Yusheng continued, “After you woke, I didn’t tell you because I worried it might confuse you or interfere with the treatment.”
Qi Ji didn’t mind. Even if Pei Yusheng had explained at the time, he wouldn’t have believed it.
Pei Yusheng brushed a stray lock of hair from his ear, returned his hand to Qi Ji’s waist, and asked, “So now you remember, right? Does it feel uncomfortable?”
“No.” Qi Ji shook his head, whispering, “Thank you, Pei.”
He realized how much effort the other had unknowingly expended on him.
Pei Yusheng said, “No need to thank me.”
“At the time, I only thought about the treatment,” Qi Ji lowered his voice. “As long as you recovered safely, that was the best outcome for me.”
Qi Ji was slightly stunned.
The man’s responses always surprised him. They were completely different ways of thinking. Qi Ji remembered repeatedly saying, “Thank you, Mr. Pei,” only for Pei Yusheng to insist, “It’s nothing.”
Nothing hard, nothing troublesome, no thanks needed.
Those memories were so vivid, yet Qi Ji instinctively avoided dwelling on them, like in the hospital elevator two days ago—he didn’t dare think about how much care Pei Yusheng had given.
Some things were too intense; he worried he couldn’t repay them.
Changing the subject hastily, Qi Ji said, “Also… I realized that when I fell asleep, I’d often end up leaning against you… probably because I was used to your scent during that time.”
He should have realized sooner, but he’d been too slow. Qi Ji was always wary of strangers; only because he relied on a familiar scent would he sleep unguarded in the other’s arms.
He felt awkward again. “So… I disturbed you, Mr. Pei…”
“It’s fine,” Pei Yusheng said. “I saw it all during the treatment. You don’t need to worry.”
Hearing that didn’t comfort Qi Ji. Instead, it made the back of his neck tingle.
“Saw it all…”
He didn’t dare imagine the full meaning, especially with memories of his previous clinginess… Qi Ji felt ashamed.
Forcing himself, his voice trembling, he stammered, “I’m… not usually like this… maybe it was because of the medicine…”
He had even mistaken Pei Yusheng for his father.
The comforting aura on Pei Yusheng—the same as when he rescued him from the fighting arena—made him clingy.
Pei Yusheng was silent for a moment.
“I didn’t intend to make you dependent on me.”
Qi Ji was surprised.
“That’s not what I mean…”
“I know,” Pei Yusheng’s voice hoarse. “I just wanted to tell you that at the time, I only thought about completing the treatment, how to be more like your father…”
“Already very much like him,” Qi Ji whispered.
Like someone who hadn’t noticed anything all this time.
He recalled Pei Yusheng calling him “Qiqi” when he returned: “Besides, my parents call me Qiqi.”
“Mm.” Pei Yusheng responded softly. “Because I learned to call you that.”
Qi Ji’s gaze stayed fixed on the buttons on his chest. He blinked, thinking, So this is part of the care too?
Then he heard Pei Yusheng continue, “But calling you that now… it’s different from back then.”
Qi Ji finally looked up, curiosity getting the better of him. “Different?”
As he lifted his eyes, they met those pale gray ones.
In that endlessly captivating light gray, only his own reflection existed.
Qi Ji’s heart skipped a beat.
“I know your father also calls you Qiqi. But believe me—this is different.”
The man’s voice was low and husky, utterly sincere.
“My feelings for you… go beyond propriety.”
Qi Ji froze completely.
Different from familial affection, different from the care given during treatment—in addition to the considerate restraint, this man harbored an intensity all his own.
Such honesty left Qi Ji unsure how to respond.
He watched as Pei Yusheng lowered his head, that familiar warmth suddenly pressing in aggressively, enveloping him, claiming his breath.
The surrounding air seemed to vanish, leaving only the scent of one person.
It was like standing before a blazing sun—scorching, burning hot. Qi Ji’s mouth went dry, his throat constricting as he swallowed, lips parched.
He didn’t know what to do.
The blazing sun stopped just short of consuming him, moving slowly, deliberately, as if afraid to overwhelm him. Even his breath did not descend upon Qi Ji.
Pei Yusheng waited patiently.
Qi Ji had time to pull away, protest, or refuse outright.
But he didn’t.
His mind was blank, as if all reason had burned away, leaving only instinct, only the most immediate response.
He didn’t dodge.
Like a traveler frozen in winter’s blizzard, unable to resist the approaching warmth; or a wanderer, lips cracked and dry, thirsting for sweetness after a thousand miles—he was drawn forward. Even an illusion might have tempted him; this was real.
It was real warmth. Real tenderness.
Qi Ji had never considered such intimacy before. He had no experience, no expectation. Burdened by past debts, he had always avoided closeness.
But Mr. Pei was an exception.
Like this kiss, an unexpected intrusion that left him unable to refuse.
Even without imagining it, the moment was more moving than any fantasy. Qi Ji had no mental energy left to think or imagine; his consciousness was entirely consumed by the nearness of Pei Yusheng, and no amount of imagination could surpass the delight of reality.
He forgot everything—only one person existed in his heart and mind.
Only Pei Yusheng.
The man’s familiar warmth had shifted, and it felt hotter, which made Qi Ji’s usually cold hands and feet cling all the more. It was like seeing the sun after endless rainy days, the lingering chill within him melting, body and soul steeped in soothing heat.
The blazing sun, which could scorch the world, now restrained itself, letting soft light fall solely on Qi Ji.
So gentle. It consumed him.
For a long while.
Until that overbearing presence finally moved slightly away, leaving a trace of coolness on his flushed cheeks. Qi Ji’s muddled thoughts began to clear just a little.
“Qiqi.”
He heard Pei Yusheng call him. The man had stepped back slightly, enough to give him space to breathe, though his forehead still rested against Qi Ji’s. The voice seemed to grind against his soft ear.
“Remember to breathe.”
It took Qi Ji a moment for his sluggish mind to process the words.
The aftereffects of oxygen deprivation still clouded him; his logic hadn’t returned. He realized the coolness on his cheek came from Pei Yusheng’s hand, pressed gently against him to soothe the flushed skin. But it barely helped—he still felt warm, yet now had something to lean against.
He pressed his face briefly, still burning, then stopped and blinked in confusion. His long lashes glistened with moisture, brushing almost against the bridge of the man’s nose.
Tiny drops of warmth landed on his lashes like dragonfly touches, heavy with affection.
Qi Ji felt a slight tickle and blinked again.
Then he noticed the movement of the Adam’s apple in front of him.
Pei Yusheng’s body was flawless, his neck muscles fluid and perfect. Qi Ji couldn’t look away, staring for a long time, oblivious to the dark shadows in the man’s eyes.
Until the hand on his cheek moved, two fingers gently lifting his jaw, forcing him to meet Pei Yusheng’s gaze.
Before he could see the man clearly through the mist of his breath, shadow pressed down again, stealing his air.
Love cannot be hidden.
Love cannot be contained.
This time, the lips merely brushed, a gentle collision, more like the fleeting touch of a kiss on lashes. Warmth lingered briefly, pressing and retreating, teasing affectionately.
Just as the warmth was about to fade, obedient Qi Ji acted instinctively, brushing back against it.
His mind still foggy, only instinct guided him. No other thought. He did it.
Pei Yusheng wasn’t sweet—but he tasted divine.
Even though it made him hot, flushed, Qi Ji persisted, satisfied with his boldness.
He hadn’t anticipated the consequences.
When he realized it, it was too late.
A shiver ran up his spine, surged to the back of his neck, a forceful invasion that made even this cherished proximity feel overwhelming. The waves were too strong, like a calm sea suddenly erupting into a tempest, threatening to swallow a fragile boat.
Qi Ji blinked, sobering slightly—but then the fire he had sparked consumed all thought again.
He regretted it. Not just the kiss—he should have been warned when he had stepped onto Pei Yusheng’s feet, trapped in his arms with no escape, even resistance impossible.
The man seemed to remember his dash from the bedroom, stingy with reprieve. Earlier, the lack of air was an accident; now, Qi Ji felt as if Pei Yusheng had claimed even his breath, leaving him gasping, afraid he might be swallowed whole.
The carefully hidden, perfectly masked possessiveness had revealed just a sliver—and it was terrifying.
He lost all sense of time; the flood of sensation stretched endlessly. When he was finally released, he had no energy left to resist, only to gasp, choking on the rush of fresh air.
“Cough… cough… ahhh…”
A hand rested gently on him. The once-immovable arms around his waist became soft, soothing, helping him recover.
Pei Yusheng helped him breathe, voice low: “Are you alright?”
He had realized his own loss of control. Even while bending close again, a fraction of reason remained. But the boy’s initiative burned it away—the fire wasn’t his alone.
Finally catching his breath, Qi Ji looked up at Pei Yusheng.
His eyes were wet, red at the corners, glowing even more beautifully than any scenery, lips tinted red—the color Pei Yusheng had left.
Pei Yusheng’s gaze darkened.
Yet he suppressed his own turmoil, letting reason regain control.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was too forward…”
Qi Ji looked at him again. The watery sheen in his eyes receded slightly, leaving crystal-clear clarity.
Under that gaze, Pei Yusheng swallowed the rest of his words.
He only repeated, softly, “Sorry.”
Qi Ji coughed, but there was no trace of annoyance or resistance.
In fact, his thoughts diverged from Pei Yusheng’s assumptions.
Qi Ji noticed the sincere apology, recalled all the patient corrections and gentle reassurances—the “it’s nothing, it’s no trouble”—and after a moment, replied in kind:
“No need to apologize.”
After all, it wasn’t Pei Yusheng’s fault. Qi Ji hadn’t moved away and had even lightly acted on instinct.
Pei Yusheng froze, clearly surprised. The usually composed, strategic man showed a rare mix of bewilderment and disbelief at such a simple, short reply.
“…Qiqi?”