When Kong Wenyu was completely lost in pleasure, his gaze turned almost obsessed, as if he were remembering something from long ago.
After it was over, Nie Jun had intended to stop there. But Kong Wenyu seemed to crave comfort afterward; even the slightest movement made him reach up and grab Nie Jun by the neck.
Kong Wenyu pressed his head down, looked at him for two seconds, then tilted his chin up and kissed those hot, soft lips.
Nie Jun froze for a moment, then pressed him down and kissed him back hard.
Outside, the rain kept rustling. The sky glowed a murky yellow, and occasionally faint voices drifted in from the distance.
Kong Wenyu opened his eyes. Through a slit in the curtains, he could see the sky outside—half-bright, half-dark, as if dusk had already passed.
The entire bedroom was utterly silent.
The moment Kong Wenyu shifted even slightly, the man beside him immediately asked, “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? I can make something.”
Kong Wenyu turned his face toward him. Nie Jun was half-sitting against the headboard, looking down at him with lowered eyes.
It was hard to tell if he had woken up earlier or if he hadn’t slept at all.
“What time is it?” Kong Wenyu asked hoarsely.
Nie Jun frowned and started to get up to pour some warm water.
Kong Wenyu stopped him. “Lie down a little longer.”
Nie Jun hesitated, then pulled the half-lifted blanket back over him.
He wanted to reach out and check Kong Wenyu’s forehead for a fever but felt it might be too forward, given they were sharing the same bed.
“Your voice,” Nie Jun said. “Does it hurt?”
Kong Wenyu closed his eyes to rest, ignored the question, and instead replied in that same roughened voice, “The rain stopped.”
Nie Jun glanced outside, then lowered his gaze back to Kong Wenyu.
“No, it hasn’t.”
Kong Wenyu cleared his raw throat. “I hate the rain.”
Nie Jun stayed quiet, listening.
“On rainy days, you’re more likely to get locked up,” Kong Wenyu said.
Nie Jun’s hand, which had been stroking his hair, froze. His heart lurched violently.
Kong Wenyu cleared his throat again. “Are you asleep?”
He hadn’t raised his voice at all—his words were at a normal volume—yet for some reason, his throat was already this hoarse.
“I slept a little,” Nie Jun said, guessing he might be coming down with something. “If you’re still tired, go ahead and sleep more.”
Kong Wenyu shook his head without opening his eyes.
Since he clearly wasn’t planning to go back to sleep, Nie Jun said, “Your phone rang twice—it was Hai Ming.”
“You answered?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Kong Wenyu asked. “Aren’t you worried he’ll come looking for you?”
“I didn’t want him to misunderstand,” Nie Jun explained. “He called me too. I told him we’re still talking and I’ll contact him once we’re done.”
Kong Wenyu fell silent again.
Even in the dim light, his skin still looked flawless and pale, like fine porcelain.
Nie Jun kept watching him until Kong Wenyu asked once more, “What time is it?”
Nie Jun glanced at the clock. “Six forty-five. Not even seven yet.”
Kong Wenyu didn’t react much. Nie Jun asked, “What do you want to eat? Do you want to go out or order delivery?”
“What do you have at home?”
“Noodles and rice.” Nie Jun’s voice softened, almost a whisper, but in this quiet atmosphere it didn’t feel out of place. “There’s a small supermarket by the gate. Tell me what you want to eat, I can go buy it and be back quickly.”
“Don’t go.” Kong Wenyu’s tone left no room for refusal.
Nie Jun didn’t argue, nor did he make a move to leave.
Kong Wenyu stayed in bed long enough to finally force his eyes open. “What do you usually cook for yourself?”
“Mostly noodles,” Nie Jun said. And before Kong Wenyu could agree or object, he added, “They’re not very good. You probably wouldn’t like them.”
Kong Wenyu glanced at him.
Nie Jun clarified, “I can stir-fry dishes okay, but rice takes longer to steam.”
“Do you not want me staying at your place too long?” Kong Wenyu asked.
Nie Jun froze for a second.
“No,” he quickly clarified. “I’m just worried you’re hungry. I don’t want you to wait too long.”
Kong Wenyu turned his eyes away and reached for his phone.
Nie Jun picked it up from the pillow beside him and handed it over. He hesitated. “Should I start cooking now?”
Kong Wenyu’s expression didn’t change, but in the glow from the phone screen, he gave a slight nod.
So Nie Jun got up, pulling a shirt over his head as he walked out of the room.
His body was well-trained and solid; when he wore a windbreaker, it simply made him look tall and upright. Now, in just a black tank top, his muscular arms, broad shoulders, and narrow waist radiated pure strength.
Kong Wenyu watched him until he left the doorway, then finally withdrew his gaze.
It would take twenty minutes for the rice to steam—enough time for Nie Jun to cook a few more elaborate dishes that could actually impress someone.
From the kitchen, the sounds of chopping and sizzling carried clearly into the bedroom. Kong Wenyu dialed Yu Jiaduo’s number.
“We were supposed to meet this afternoon! I’ve been calling you all day and couldn’t get through!” Yu Jiaduo half-complained, half-demanded. “What were you doing?”
“Something came up,” Kong Wenyu said.
Yu Jiaduo paused. “What’s wrong with your voice? Are you sick?”
Then another question followed right on its heels: “What’s that noise? Are you at some private restaurant?”
“Mm,” Kong Wenyu answered both questions at once. “In the next few days, I’m going to leak some news about a new brand partnership. If you’re holding any projects tied to Ao Yongwang, sell them off quickly.”
“What?” Yu Jiaduo didn’t get it. “Weren’t you planning to partner with the Ao family?”
“With Ao Qingqing,” Kong Wenyu emphasized.
Yu Jiaduo let out a long sigh. “As long as Ao Yongwang’s around, his father will never let Ao Qingqing have any real say. Besides, she’s the one your father arranged a marriage contract with. Are you sure you want to back out?”
“Yeah.” Kong Wenyu’s tone was calm, almost detached. He didn’t continue the topic of the engagement but instead asked, “Have you eaten?”
“Huh?” Yu Jiaduo was thrown off. “What?”
“I should go eat now,” Kong Wenyu said.
Yu Jiaduo choked for a second. “Which restaurant? Who are you having dinner with?”
“A private one,” Kong Wenyu answered the first question while getting out of bed. Then he cut him off, “Hanging up now.”
He walked out of the bedroom at an unhurried pace. Nie Jun was still busy in the kitchen, not noticing right away that he’d come out.
Thinking back to that earlier silhouette, Kong Wenyu couldn’t help but glance toward the kitchen.
Nie Jun was wearing his usual sweatpants—soft, comfortable-looking fabric—and a gray apron. He had a cigarette between his lips.
Kong Wenyu stood at the doorway watching him. When Nie Jun turned and saw him, he immediately stubbed out the cigarette, looked around for a moment, then tossed it into the trash behind him.
“Why’d you come out?” he asked while still stirring the pan, glancing sideways at him. “Ten more minutes. Go sit down and rest, I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
Kong Wenyu raised an eyebrow slightly. “I’m just going to wash my hands.”
Nie Jun turned off the burner, quickly rinsed his hands in the sink, and walked over. “I’ll carry you.”
“No need.” Kong Wenyu steadied himself against the wall. “You just focus on what you’re doing.”
Nie Jun lowered his gaze to Kong Wenyu’s foot.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Kong Wenyu said, standing still. “If I need help, I’ll call you.”
Nie Jun didn’t move away. Kong Wenyu had no choice but to take two steps in front of him. Aside from being a bit stiff, he could walk just fine.
Nie Jun hesitated, then simply scooped him up, pushed open the bathroom door in two strides, and set him down steadily.
Kong Wenyu steadied himself against the sink, glancing at him with a complicated expression.
Nie Jun said nothing, turned, and gently pulled the door nearly shut.
The sound of running water soon came from the bathroom. A few minutes later, Kong Wenyu pushed the door open. Nie Jun was waiting by the doorway; the moment he saw him, he bent down, lifted him again without asking, and carried him straight to the living room sofa.
There were still some fruits left on the coffee table from earlier that morning. Nie Jun took them away, rinsed fresh ones, and set them down within easy reach.
Still, it felt lacking—too quiet, too empty. He started thinking he should get a TV installed soon.
“Don’t eat too much fruit,” he reminded in a low voice. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Kong Wenyu looked at him, his voice still hoarse: “Do you have any cigarettes?”
Nie Jun patted his pants pocket, found none, then turned to the kitchen to grab some.
Kong Wenyu took the cigarette and held it between his lips. Nie Jun paused, lighter in hand, but didn’t ignite it.
“They’re strong. You probably won’t like them.”
Kong Wenyu glanced at the lighter in his hand, then at his lips, and said with layered meaning: “Why don’t I just taste it first and see?”
Nie Jun’s mouth twitched slightly. For a moment, he couldn’t tell whether that was a joke, and he actually hesitated.
Kong Wenyu tilted his head, laughing softly. It took him a while to rein it back. “Lighting a cigarette—isn’t that part of a bodyguard’s duties too? Do you need me to teach you?”
He looked genuinely amused.
From the kitchen came two beeps from the rice cooker, signaling that the rice had switched to “keep warm.”
Kong Wenyu crooked a finger toward the lighter in Nie Jun’s hand. With no other choice, Nie Jun leaned down and lit the cigarette resting between his lips.
Kong Wenyu took a drag and immediately frowned as he exhaled.
“Not good?” Nie Jun asked. “Give it to me.”
Kong Wenyu stared at the cigarette for a few seconds—then actually handed it back.
Nie Jun didn’t say anything. He walked to the kitchen, stubbed it out, and set it in the corner.
With the open kitchen fully visible from the sofa, Kong Wenyu only had to turn his head slightly to watch his every move—from the way his arm muscles flexed as he chopped vegetables, to the relaxed, steady posture he had while washing dishes.
The tall, upright man turned the exhaust fan to its highest setting and moved on to stir-fry the next dish.
Soon he turned off the stove and brought steaming rice and hot dishes to the living room table, along with clean bowls and chopsticks.
He filled a bowl with rice first, placed the chopsticks near Kong Wenyu, and said, “These are new. Never used before.”
Kong Wenyu took them and deliberately asked, “What about the bowls? Are they new too?”
“No,” Nie Jun replied quickly. “I’ll buy some next time.”
Kong Wenyu lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable. Worried he might put the chopsticks down and refuse to eat, Nie Jun ladled out a bowl of tofu soup, setting the spoon in it. “This tastes best while it’s hot.”
“Not bad,” Kong Wenyu said, looking straight at him as he picked up the spoon.
Nie Jun froze for a moment, unsure—he hadn’t even started drinking yet, so how could he know?
Only then did Kong Wenyu take a sip of soup. After swallowing, he cleared his throat and said, “I meant you.”
Even the rice seemed to carry a subtle mint-and-tea aroma—a distinct flavor all its own.
Kong Wenyu leaned back in the chair, watching him, as if to say, No wonder you’re confident—you do have the skill to back it up.
Nie Jun froze for a moment, chopsticks in hand, not expecting such a blunt comment.
But it was understandable. Kong Wenyu had been born with everything: wealth, power, a striking face, and a young, healthy body.
He was entitled to be picky.
Kong Wenyu lifted his hand and sniffed his fingers. They carried the same scent—he’d used Nie Jun’s body wash when washing his hands earlier.
Satisfied, he took another sip of soup. It was surprisingly good. “Keep up the good work.”
Nie Jun’s fingers stiffened. “There’s going to be a next time?”
Kong Wenyu drank his soup calmly. “You don’t want there to be a next time?”
“I do.”
Kong Wenyu tilted his chin slightly. “Then finish eating. Once I’m full, have Hai Ming come pick me up.”
Nie Jun didn’t move. “I’ll take you back.”
“No need. Let Hai Ming do it.” Kong Wenyu gave an instruction, “You should get some sleep. You don’t have to go out tomorrow.”
Nie Jun looked at him. “You’ve scheduled a meeting with the Ao family tomorrow.”
“Hai Ming will be there,” Kong Wenyu replied. “If I need to go out, I’ll let you know.”
Nie Jun said nothing.
Kong Wenyu lifted his eyes, smiling faintly without a sound. “You want to see me tomorrow too?”
Nie Jun, who usually avoided such direct questions, simply gave a quiet, firm “Mm.”
Kong Wenyu was silent for quite a while before continuing, “Nie Jun, you probably know something about my family situation. My second aunt is watching me like a hawk. I can’t hand her any leverage.”
Unlike his usual casual tone, saying “second aunt” carried an unusual seriousness and focus.
Nie Jun stared at him in silence. His tall shadow fell across the floor, heavy and muted.
That look stirred something almost like guilt in Kong Wenyu. He lowered his gaze. “Of course, if you’re willing to be my secret lover, I wouldn’t treat you poorly.”
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