Lin Jianxi smelled really good.
Ji Xingyan was working when a faint, elusive fragrance wafted over from nearby. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tall figure approaching, and his heart started pounding uncontrollably—
“Still busy?”
Lin Jianxi bent down beside him. The man’s voice was always gentle as water, his body heat hovering right overhead. If he could, Ji Xingyan would have turned and flung himself straight into that long-coveted embrace.
It had to feel so comfortable. So warm.
“…No.”
He answered with deliberate coolness, then lifted his gaze to Lin Jianxi. The man gave him a soft smile. “Little Young Master, your eyelashes are so long. They’re beautiful.”
“…”
~~~
Ji Xingyan drove him to the restaurant—or what was supposed to be one—but the kid must have been worked up about something, because he handled the car like it was a race.
Lin Jianxi stole occasional glances at his profile: icy and distant, utterly unapproachable, like a stranger wearing his face.
But the instant Ji Xingyan sensed his stare, he snapped back into that childish, prickly, faintly stammering young man. “D-don’t… don’t keep staring. You’ll distract me.”
Lin Jianxi found it endlessly entertaining.
So he stared all the more. Ji Xingyan’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he swallowed hard, over and over, nerves jangling.
Lin Jianxi barely suppressed a laugh. “So, what are we having?”
Ji Xingyan: “You never said what you like, so we’re going to my place. They’ve got a chef—you can order anything.”
Lin Jianxi arched a brow. “Your house? Showing up empty-handed feels rude.”
Ji Xingyan: “Party tonight. Lots of people. I’ll take you up to the second floor—my friends are there. You won’t have to deal with the crowd downstairs.”
~~~
Ji Family Second Floor Terrace.
Lin Jianxi had barely set foot on the terrace when he spotted two men pinning a pale, delicate young guy down and kissing him senseless. The wet smacks echoed, punctuated by the kid’s throaty, tantalizing moans.
“…”
Before Lin Jianxi could shoot Ji Xingyan a loaded look, the young man ushered him to a seat as if nothing had happened.
“Sit here—it’s warmer. Blanket?”
“No need to baby me.”
From his vantage, Lin Jianxi had a clear view of the sprawling “socializing” spectacle downstairs: suits and evening gowns everywhere, the whole affair dripping with formality. He hadn’t been to one of these in ages; it felt almost novel, peeking in now.
He was still taking it in when an unnatural silence fell over the terrace—broken only by those sloppy kissing noises.
Lin Jianxi turned and locked eyes with a crowd of stares appraising him like some rare specimen: stunned admiration laced with curiosity. They flicked their gazes away the moment he met them, and a heavy tension thickened the air—
“Bang!”
The guy next to Ji Xingyan slammed a foot into the table. “You done making out yet?”
Lin Jianxi startled at the crash. Ji Xingyan, utterly unfazed, slid a tablet his way. “Order whatever. It’s all on there.”
The terrace lights blazed bright despite the night, making the tablet screen feel oddly dim as Lin Jianxi scrolled through the menu. Ji Xingyan watched him the whole time. The three kissers from next door had vanished; a quick glance around turned up nothing.
“You’re… Young Master Ji’s benefactor?”
“He really looks like that.”
“No kidding—I thought he made it up.”
“…What benefactor?” Lin Jianxi asked, puzzled. He glanced at Ji Xingyan. “Hm?”
Ji Xingyan: “Nothing.”
Lin Jianxi: “Oh.”
Amusement danced in his eyes as he turned to the guy. “So, how exactly am I his benefactor?”
The guy: “…”
The guy waved it off. “Don’t know the details. Just heard Young Master Ji going on about some benefactor who smokes and drinks like a fish, but looks like a celestial beauty. Doesn’t add up, so we figured he was full of it.”
Lin Jianxi chuckled at Ji Xingyan’s description. “You flatter me.”
Ji Xingyan: “So… you really forgot?”
Lin Jianxi: “You know how forgetful I am. Back then, I’d drink till I blacked out—half my memories are buried deep. Hm… care to jog it? Little Young Master?”
Ji Xingyan clammed up.
Lin Jianxi let it drop, chatting and eating with the group. Ji Xingyan stayed mostly silent, a quiet presence at his side. Someone offered him a cigarette; he waved it away with the effortless authority of the host.
Lin Jianxi kept half an eye on him regardless. In a stray glance, he caught sight of several vivid red marks peeking from the collar at the back of Ji Xingyan’s neck.
Lin Jianxi froze for a split second.
Just then, someone came to fetch Ji Xingyan. As he rose, Lin Jianxi spotted the faint tremble in his hands, crystal clear.
“…”
Ji Xingyan left.
Lin Jianxi picked at his food distractedly for a few bites, then slipped away from the terrace to find him.
System: “He’s in the bedroom. Upstairs, straight ahead, right at the end.”
~~~
Lin Jianxi shoved the door open to find a man swinging a wine bottle at Ji Xingyan’s head. He lunged without a second thought, seizing the man’s wrist—only to realize too late he’d overestimated his strength. The bottle exploded against his shoulder, shards ripping a long, ugly gash down his arm.
The man blinked, thrown by his sudden intervention.
Ji Xingyan cried out: “Father, that’s Lin Jianxi.”
Of course the man knew. Lin Jianxi’s dramatic entrance outside Song Cheng’an’s office had burned itself into their memories.
Lin Jianxi eyed the wound: a stark red line blazing across his arm. The man actually looked a touch remorseful. “Sorry about that, sorry. Just teaching my boy a lesson. Mr. Lin, let me call the doctor.”
Lin Jianxi’s cool gaze settled on him. “You teach lessons with bottles?”
The man looked like he had a bellyful of grievances he couldn’t voice. Lin Jianxi knew better than to pry—every family had its skeletons. He was still mulling his next move when warm tears splashed onto the back of his hand.
Lin Jianxi startled. “Why the tears?”
Ji Xingyan’s crying face was heartbreaking: those long lashes clumped with droplets. “Can’t you take better care of yourself for once?”
The man stared at his son’s pitiful display, face twisting like he’d spotted a UFO. But with Lin Jianxi clearly in protective mode, he held his tongue and stalked out.
Lin Jianxi dabbed at the tears. “No more crying, Little Young Master. No wonder you’ve got so many friends—you’re kindhearted and adorable.”
Ji Xingyan looked at him, his eyes misty with tears, a fat teardrop spilling down with every blink. “I’m not kind. Go ask around outside—who thinks I am? Didn’t you see the way he looked at me just now? Even my dad thinks there’s something off about me right now.”
“…”
Lin Jianxi hadn’t expected Ji Xingyan to say something like that.
“I’m crying because I like you. Because it hurts me to see you like this.”
The sudden confession left Lin Jianxi momentarily stunned. “You…”
“You always wonder what there is to like about you, why everyone here feels that way…” Ji Xingyan gently took hold of his injured hand, his gaze lowered. “All the good in you that we remember—you might have forgotten it all, but we haven’t. I get why he likes you. Everyone who does understands… We didn’t fall for you on a whim.”
He spoke through gritted teeth, tears streaming down his face. Aside from Song Cheng’an, Lin Jianxi had never seen anyone cry so wretchedly in front of him.
“That day… you really were drunk.” Ji Xingyan slowly clenched his fist. “We were tied up in this pitch-black, terrifying place. I was too scared to open my eyes. I was crying right along with you when you covered them and told me not to look if I was afraid of the dark—that it was actually a beautiful place full of flowers and grass, with little cats playing around and police officers nearby.”
Drunkard…
Ji Xingyan had caught the scent of alcohol on him and dismissed it as unreliable at first, but he was just a kid back then, and the voice had been so gentle, spinning a story like some bedtime tale. Little by little, he’d lost himself in it—
“Sometimes I hate this world even more than you do. Back then, I figured it might just be easier to die. But you… you kept painting this fairy-tale picture of our surroundings. I knew it couldn’t possibly be true, but your words felt so real to me anyway.”
“…”
The System murmured quietly, “It’s true. During all those blackouts of yours, you’ve stumbled through plenty of plot points, turning peril into safety every time by sheer luck. That day, you two got kidnapped together and Gu Heng pulled strings to get you out. You were still wasted and ended up nuzzling his chin for a kiss in the car… So he never filled you in on the details.”
Lin Jianxi’s fingers, hovering in the air, curled slightly.
Suddenly, Ji Xingyan pulled him into a tight embrace. “Lin Jianxi, fairy tales only exist in my world when you’re by my side.”
The young man drank in his warmth like a man starved. These rare hugs, once every few years, were the stuff of Ji Xingyan’s endless daydreams through countless sleepless nights—the sole glimmer of light for children like them, raised in shadows.
Lin Jianxi stayed silent for a long stretch before reaching out to pat Ji Xingyan’s head. “Sorry. I forgot all about you.”
“…” Ji Xingyan’s breath hitched.
System: “…Sigh.”
After a moment, Ji Xingyan said, “You haven’t wronged anyone. If anyone’s at fault, it’s me. I wronged you.”
For letting my thoughts about you turn into something more.
Ji Xingyan’s grip was ironclad; when Lin Jianxi tried to tug his wrist free, it was no use. He met the other man’s eyes, but before he could get a word out, Ji Xingyan asked, “Can I kiss you? Just once?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Lin Jianxi found himself backed against the desk, his backside perched on the edge, head tilted aside as his lashes fluttered. “Don’t…”
Warm lips brushed the corner of his mouth, and Ji Xingyan’s whole body trembled with raw emotion.
“Thank you… Thank you, Lin Jianxi.”
Those words, so pitiful and self-effacing, sapped Lin Jianxi’s will to shove him away. He let Ji Xingyan kiss him, let him squeeze his hand. Time lost all meaning as a rising tide of shame churned inside him…
Why does this keep happening with kids half my age…
Lin Jianxi wrestled with the tangle of his feelings until a knock at the door shattered the strange, charged air between them.
~~~
Lin Jianxi felt a little dazed.
He claimed a quiet corner at the banquet outside and nursed a drink—just a sip or two—and already eyes were turning his way from all directions.
Lin Jianxi glanced down at himself. His clothes weren’t rumpled; he didn’t look like someone fresh from a makeout session with the host. So why was everyone staring…?
The System snickered. “Take a look at your mouth.”
Lin Jianxi pulled out his phone and checked his reflection. His lips were flushed an unnatural red.
Lin Jianxi: “…”
System: “Ji Xingyan’s no mere crybaby, you know.”
Lin Jianxi sighed in genuine exasperation. “Little Drama Queen knows how to play the pity card.”
“Lin Jianxi.”
Someone dropped into a squat right in front of him, eyes alight. “You—”
Song Cheng’an cut a sharp figure in his suit, the purple-black stud in his right ear catching the light in faint glimmers. He held a flute of champagne, gazing up at Lin Jianxi from below, that sweet smile of his freezing solid on his face.
“Who the fu—”
Song Cheng’an cut himself off, then flashed a natural grin and coaxed in a soft voice, “Lin Jianxi, who kissed you?”
Lin Jianxi had no clue how to answer that one.
Song Cheng’an caught his hand. Lin Jianxi gave a token struggle. “We’re outside…”
Song Cheng’an bent his head and pressed a kiss to it. “So? You’re divorced from him now. And whoever did this is filthy. I need to clean you up.”
“…”
Lin Jianxi’s mind snapped back—he’d come looking for Ji Xingyan over something to do with Gu Heng, only to get thoroughly kissed and maneuvered into this awkward spot.
Had Ji Xingyan played him with some scheme…?
Song Cheng’an’s kisses left him boneless at the lightest touch, his eyes growing damp. He twisted away from the intimacy. “Am I getting old? Losing my edge?”
“You’re not, Lin Jianxi.” Song Cheng’an didn’t bother hiding the affection in his eyes. “You’ve just crossed paths with scum. Rotten sorts… Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
Lin Jianxi: “Back off, Song Cheng’an. Not out here…”
He was pushing Song Cheng’an away when a strikingly familiar figure drifted past in the distance. Tall, one hand tucked in his pocket, a faint smile on his lips as he chatted with others, offering the occasional polite nod.
Refined. Aristocratic.
Unrecognizably transformed.
—Gu Heng.
The word slipped out of Lin Jianxi’s mouth before he could stop it. “Husband…?”
“…”
“…………”
Song Cheng’an froze, his gaze turning arctic cold.