When Zhu Ran woke up, he felt warm and cozy all over, his mind relaxed from a good night’s sleep.
The mattress, pillow, and blanket were all very comfortable, so he lingered in bed for a while longer. It wasn’t until he reached for his phone on the side that he realized it was already 10 a.m. the next day!
Zhu Ran didn’t dare laze around anymore. He threw off the blanket and scrambled out of bed in one go.
The living room was quiet. Huo Boyan wasn’t working in the study but was sitting at the small bar counter by the window, using his computer.
“You’re awake?” Huo Boyan, dressed in a neat shirt, smiled warmly and said, “How did you sleep last night?”
Zhu Ran’s body still felt lazy and languid. He nodded and said it was pretty good.
Huo Boyan stood up and walked toward the open kitchen. He deftly took out an apron and tied it on, then looked up at Zhu Ran. “Go wash up. Breakfast will be ready when you’re out.”
Perhaps because Huo Boyan looked so domestic, Zhu Ran’s heart suddenly softened a bit. He replied with an “oh” and returned to the bedroom with light steps.
While brushing his teeth, Zhu Ran noticed his mouth felt a little sore. There were no visible injuries, but it tingled when he brushed, and it hurt a bit when the toothbrush touched it.
Could it be a side effect from kissing Huo Boyan so intensely yesterday? But he hadn’t felt anything during dinner last night. It couldn’t be that he bit himself in his sleep, right?
Zhu Ran’s face flushed. He thought the guess was too ridiculous and figured he must have some internal heat buildup. No wonder people in the Greater Bay Area loved drinking cooling herbal teas.
After washing up, Zhu Ran stared at himself in the mirror for a moment. He didn’t change out of his loungewear, just ran some water through his hair, and went out to eat.
Huo Boyan’s cooking skills were even better than Zhu Ran had imagined—in fact, they were the best among anyone Zhu Ran knew. Zhu Ran accidentally ate too much again. Full and warm, he grew drowsy and sprawled lazily on the sofa afterward.
Huo Boyan started using his computer again. Seeing Zhu Ran quiet, he didn’t say anything and just focused on his own work.
Zhu Ran lay on the sofa, his gaze unfocused on a painting on the wall. The occasional sound of keystrokes came from the living room—it was very peaceful.
But this quietness didn’t feel suffocating. He didn’t have to worry about Huo Boyan suddenly lashing out, having an emotional meltdown, or lecturing him under the guise of concern.
In this environment, Zhu Ran felt at ease, relaxed, and calm. It gave him the illusion that he could just be himself.
At the same time, a deeper thought took root in his heart. So this was how people could get along. So a home could really be this serene. If he became someone like Huo Boyan, would that mean he could handle his relationship with his parents properly too?
Zhu Ran didn’t deny that he was attracted to Huo Boyan, both physically and on a deeper mental level.
But compared to entering a sweet romantic relationship with someone so outstanding, he wanted more to become an outstanding person like Huo Boyan—tolerant, self-assured, relaxed, yet with his own principles and persistence. Even if the growth process wasn’t smooth, he could stand back up and keep moving forward.
Even Zhu Ran himself hadn’t realized that he had started unconsciously imitating Huo Boyan’s way of doing things and thinking.
What would Huo Boyan do in a situation like his? Did Huo Boyan have a better way to handle it?
Zhu Ran suddenly recalled what Huo Boyan had said last night—about improving an excellent plan and finding points for further discussion.
Huo Boyan’s suggestions had been practical and honest, but at the time, Zhu Ran had been too emotionally overwhelmed to take any of it in.
After thinking seriously for a long time, Zhu Ran decided to discuss his predicament with Huo Boyan. He was already prepared to tell him everything without holding back.
But Huo Boyan was working now, and it didn’t seem right to interrupt him rashly. Zhu Ran planned to wait until he was free.
Huo Boyan in work mode was a bit more serious than usual. He occasionally gave short instructions over the phone, sticking strictly to the matter at hand. Even with surprises, he didn’t scold easily—his focus was on solving problems, without unnecessary long speeches.
Zhu Ran had never met anyone like this in life. His maternal grandfather and father loved to preach, and his mother liked to impart her ideas under the guise of open-mindedness.
He was used to oppression, scheming, and power plays in relationships. This was the first time he’d seen Huo Boyan’s crisp, efficient style—it reminded him of those sharp, energetic men and women in workplace Hong Kong dramas, as if there was nothing they couldn’t handle.
After observing for a while, Zhu Ran went to brew a pot of tea for Huo Boyan.
He used the Pu’er tea cake that Huo Boyan had knocked last night—it had a nice flavor, and Huo Boyan had drunk two cups of it.
Zhu Ran took the tea cake from the tea cabinet, opened the packaging, and saw “Century Song Pin Hao Blue Label” written on the paper. He was stunned. Even more surprising was that the cake had only a small notch, as if it had just been pried open last night.
Zhu Ran had never brewed such expensive tea in his life. He originally wanted to just steep it in a thermos, but he couldn’t bear to waste it like that. He found the teapot Huo Boyan had used last night and carefully brewed a pot.
