Click.
A sound came from the tightly shut bathroom door.
Wen Chaosheng emerged leisurely after his shower, towel in hand as he wiped at his still-damp hair.
With just a glance up, he locked eyes with Xi Zhui, who sat on the edge of the bed with a serious expression. His heart skipped a beat for no reason.
“Wen Chaosheng, is this your box?”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng spotted the blue box in Xi Zhui’s hand and froze mid-wipe. He wanted to pretend nothing was wrong, but he couldn’t muster any composure. Instead, he clutched the towel tightly, at a complete loss.
Xi Zhui pulled out a divided packet of pills from the box, awaiting an answer that was already all but confirmed. “These meds you hid—are they yours too?”
Black Boss had already been unceremoniously returned to its birdcage by Xi Zhui. The clever little bird knew it was in trouble and was now playing mute.
Wen Chaosheng had no idea how Xi Zhui had found the box he’d stashed under the bed. He stood there in a daze, filled with unease. “No… I…”
Xi Zhui saw right through his evasion. “Don’t lie to me.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng froze in place, not daring to step forward. “I-I wasn’t trying to lie to you. Please don’t be mad.”
“I’ve been… I’ve been doing much better lately. I hardly take them anymore.”
A droplet clung to the tip of his not-quite-dry hair, falling perfectly onto the skin beneath his eye. It added an indescribable touch of fragility and panic.
Suddenly, Xi Zhui couldn’t bear it. He hurried to Wen Chaosheng’s side. “Don’t be scared. I didn’t mean to interrogate you.”
He reached out to wipe away that bit of moisture, softening his tone. “I’m just worried. Are you sick? Why are you taking meds?”
Was that why he’d been so thin when they first reunited? How was he doing now? Was it still serious?
Back when they’d just started filming, Xi Zhui had noticed something off with Wen Chaosheng’s appetite. But in his anger at the time, he’d shoved those suspicions aside.
“…”
The more Xi Zhui thought, the more self-recrimination and guilt weighed on him—along with a hint of irrepressible anxiety. “Chaosheng, what are these meds for?”
Wen Chaosheng saw the tension in Xi Zhui’s brows and realized he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. He hurried to correct him. “No, it’s not a physical illness. I just have mild anxiety that causes insomnia.”
He still didn’t reveal his four-year history of severe depression. Instead, he mixed a partial truth with a bit of a lie.
“These are just sleep aids. I take one before bed. The nightstand in the bedroom has no drawer, so I just tossed them in a box.”
Xi Zhui frowned. “That’s really all?”
“Yes, really.”
Wen Chaosheng was only glad he’d put just the sleep aids in the box. The antidepressants were all hidden in his suitcase, stuffed inside the closet—not something Xi Zhui would find right away.
Seeing Xi Zhui’s expression ease a little, he kept explaining. “I haven’t needed meds to sleep for a while now, so I shoved them under the bed.”
Xi Zhui still wasn’t reassured and pressed on. “What caused the anxiety?”
If it was just mild anxiety, would it really keep him up so badly that he needed meds to sleep?
Wen Chaosheng lowered his gaze. “It’s been so long since I filmed anything. Before coming back to the country, I was worrying about a ton of stuff. That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”
Xi Zhui knew how seriously Wen Chaosheng took his work on films, so he bought that. Fortunately, the movie was wrapping up smoothly now—hopefully easing some of that pressure.
Wen Chaosheng hesitated, then added, “Also…”
Xi Zhui’s heart lurched, tension spiking again.
He gripped Wen Chaosheng’s hand firmly. “Also what?”
Wen Chaosheng looked down at their clasped hands. This unexpected intimacy sparked a bit of courage in him.
Finally ready for a more honest conversation, he murmured softly, “I-I missed you so much… I think about you every night. Can’t sleep because of it…”
Xi Zhui went still. A rare sour ache rose in his throat.
Wen Chaosheng couldn’t meet his eyes. “But once filming started, it got better. Because I get to see you every day. Before bed, I can think: It’s great. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and see you again.”
He even got to make movies with Xi Zhui.
The Xi Zhui in reality wouldn’t turn his back on him like in those nightmares.
“And I have your jacket. It smells like you.”
“…”
Xi Zhui remembered the jacket Wen Chaosheng had secretly kept. He finally understood completely. He drew a deep breath, fighting the lump in his throat, and shifted from holding hands to intertwining their fingers.
“Just the smell on my jacket is enough?”
It felt like subtle encouragement.
Emboldened, Wen Chaosheng grew braver and more direct. “Not enough. It’s only enough if you’re here.”
He carefully closed the distance between them. The love he’d hidden in his heart for years finally cracked open a sliver. “Xi Zhui, you work better than any medicine.”
The words landed, and Xi Zhui’s heart trembled.
Days of restraint shattered in an instant, boundaries crossed along with it. He pulled Wen Chaosheng into his arms and kissed him without a second thought.
“Mm.”
Caught off guard, Wen Chaosheng shivered. The towel clutched in his right hand dropped to the floor.
But Xi Zhui gave him no time to react. He slipped past his teeth with practiced ease, unleashing a near-deluge of pent-up emotion as he tangled with his tongue.
The heat of the deep kiss burned away the initial blankness in Wen Chaosheng’s mind. Suddenly, he remembered Xi Zhui’s words from before:
“We can only kiss if we like each other. What does this even mean right now?”
“…”
Xi Zhui was kissing him.
It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t a fantasy. Xi Zhui liked him again.
Feeling the weight on his lips, Wen Chaosheng slowly processed this real truth. Years of longing since their separation, grievances since reuniting—they finally had an outlet. “Xi Zhui.”
He tentatively wrapped his arms around the man before him, responding with the same clumsy sincerity as their first kiss years ago.
The deep kiss carried a hint of bitter saltiness.
Xi Zhui pulled back slightly and kissed the corner of Wen Chaosheng’s eye. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying, I…”
Wen Chaosheng trembled as he leaned in, seemingly craving another kiss but hesitating.
“Mm.”
Xi Zhui’s hand at his waist lifted effortlessly, pressing him down onto the soft bedding with decisive ease.
Wen Chaosheng sensed what might come next and instinctively pressed a hand to Xi Zhui’s chest. “I… we…”
Xi Zhui’s palm cupped his face, thumb tracing his neck. “Yeah. Neither of us drank tonight.”
This time, they were both clear-headed.
No alcohol, no lust driving them. It was just love—leading to this embrace, this kiss, this possession.
Xi Zhui’s hand rested on the top button of Wen Chaosheng’s sleep shirt, but his voice was patient. “Can I touch?”
The top button came undone easily, warm fingertips brushing the skin at his chest.
Wen Chaosheng flinched sensitively but ultimately gave in to his true desires. “Yes.”
If that’s what Xi Zhui wanted, he’d give it.
The intense kiss descended again.
The ceiling light felt glaring. Unaccustomed to such brightness, Wen Chaosheng clung tightly to Xi Zhui above him, eyes squeezed shut as shame forced him to let the other man lead this long-awaited intimacy.
Buzz—buzz—buzz—
The phone on the desk suddenly vibrated, rudely interrupting their heated kisses.
Wen Chaosheng snapped back to reality and struggled to remind him. “Xi-Xi Zhui, the phone…”
“Ignore it.”
Xi Zhui’s voice had turned husky with desire. He had no intention of stopping. His fingers instinctively threaded into Wen Chaosheng’s damp hair at the back of his head—and encountered wetness.
“…”
His hair wasn’t dry yet. He’d catch a cold.
Realizing this, Xi Zhui finally reined himself in.
The phone kept vibrating. Wen Chaosheng reminded him again. “You should at least take it. What if it’s urgent?”
Xi Zhui took a deep breath, suppressing that inexpressible urge. He finally grabbed the phone, answering without checking the screen.
“Hello? Who is it?”
Irritation at the interruption colored his tone.
Shen Ruo paused for two seconds on the other end before responding. “Whoa, what’s with the attitude? You’re not working, and it’s not even ten yet. Not too late for your mom to call, right?”
Xi Zhui realized who it was and glanced at the screen. He muttered under his breath, “You’re really acting like my mom.”
Of all times, right now!
Shen Ruo hadn’t caught it. “What’d you say? Did I wake you up from sleep?”
Wen Chaosheng beside him recognized Shen Ruo’s voice and bolted upright in bed, looking every bit the kid caught red-handed by a parent.
Xi Zhui shot him an amused glance before asking into the phone, “Mom, what’s up?”
“My flight tomorrow got canceled and rescheduled to another one. I’ll arrive about an hour later than planned.”
Shen Ruo was flying straight from the Imperial Capital airport to meet her son at the overseas one. She’d sent a WeChat earlier that Xi Zhui hadn’t replied to, so she’d called instead.
Xi Zhui replied, “Got it. I’ll wait for you at the airport. Text me when you land tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Shen Ruo agreed, sounding excited. “Son, see you at the airport tomorrow.”
Xi Zhui echoed, “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
The mother and son chatted briefly before hanging up.
Xi Zhui set down the phone and looked at Wen Chaosheng, who had hastily rebuttoned his sleep shirt. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He grumbled helplessly, “Your mom and my mom—really living up to being best friends.”
Two days, two calls, both timed perfectly to interrupt when they were getting down to business. They had impeccable timing.
Wen Chaosheng caught the speechless look in Xi Zhui’s eyes and chuckled slyly before coaxing him. “You’ve got an early flight to the airport tomorrow morning. We should get some rest.”
Xi Zhui wrapped his arms around the man in front of him again, tilting his head to plant two soft kisses along his neck. He sighed. “…If I say something that’ll get me smacked by my mom, the truth is, I don’t really want to go right now.”
Wen Chaosheng stopped him short. “You can’t do that. Don’t disappoint Aunt Shen.”
“Mm. I know.”
Xi Zhui was only musing aloud. He had no intention of standing up his own mother.
