Chapter 10: · Basil

“Zhenzhen, I brought you a gift~”

The next day after school, Han Fu arrived home with a bouquet of dewy roses in one hand and a box in the other, sidling in crabwise through the door.

Pei Zhen was right there at the entrance, arms crossed, expression wooden, not taking any of it.

“Zhenzhen?”

Pei Zhen: “Fifty per instance, one hundred per two.”

“…”

This was a newly re-established rule from a few days ago. From now on, calling him “Zhenzhen” would deduct fifty from his pay each time.

Han Fu gulped and immediately corrected himself: “Young Master Pei!”

Ugh, but calling him Young Master Pei felt so impersonal.

Faced with the young man’s look of utter grievance, Pei Zhen truly couldn’t understand it—how could anyone call an older man “Zhenzhen, Zhenzhen” all day long? Even if Han Fu was a full six years younger and still at an age for acting cute, this was just too shameless.

As the older party, he hadn’t even gone so far as to call him Fufu or something…

Heh, silently blushing at the thought.

“Fufu” was just way too mushy, couldn’t handle it, no way!

…

The gorgeous roses were arranged in the living room’s main vase, instantly lighting up the entire somber, stagnant atmosphere.

And that box… who knew what was inside.

Pei Zhen looked away: “How many times have I said it? Don’t waste the money I give you, especially not on buying me things! The wool comes from the sheep’s back. Save that energy and get yourself some fixed-income savings or something.”

Han Fu: “Zhen… Young Master Pei, this didn’t cost anything.”

Didn’t cost anything?

Han Fu wore a “you’re definitely going to like this” mysterious look, his dark eyes sparkling. He carefully opened the box to reveal twenty small bottles of essential oils, carefully wrapped in foam padding.

Pei Zhen: “…”

“The Class 5 monitor, Yu Wenzhe, helped me pack them. Oh, that referee with the bun face from that day. He’s pretty enthusiastic, and quite nimble-fingered too.”

The twenty bottles inside were precisely the collection of essential oil samples from the “Guess and Identify” match between Han Fu and Lister.

Pei Zhen froze for a moment.

He didn’t know whether to be touched or think this was utterly insane.

How could even such a tiny, private thought be…

That day, watching the competition between Han Fu and Lister from within the crowd of onlookers in the library, all he could think was—what if it were me?

If it were me, could I guess them all correctly?

But this was something he’d told absolutely no one, an intensely private thought. Han Fu wasn’t a worm in his belly, so how on earth did he know?

…

“…Jasmine, Orange Blossom, Daidai Fruit, Benzoin.”

“All correct, as expected of my Zhenzhen!” Han Fu’s expression was even brighter and happier than if he’d won himself. “I knew it. That Lister is all show and no substance. Whether back then or now, his skill is far below yours!”

Pei Zhen wasn’t sure if he should be happy about this.

After all, he’d already watched the match and knew what those twenty fragrances were. What if he hadn’t known?

In a situation where even Lister stumbled, would he have been able to accurately guess that… Daidai whatever-it-was?

That would probably remain an unsolved mystery forever.

…

After his bath, the dim yellow lamplight fell upon the bedroom’s large bed with its dark gray silk duvet.

On the bed lay a gorgeously tempting, sprawled-out beauty.

A white shirt partly concealed a flashy pair of black briefs. Long, slender legs swayed as he casually flipped through the French edition of The Count of Monte Cristo from Pei Zhen’s bedside.

A feast for the eyes.

Pei Zhen discovered he truly had some latent “macho gay” tendencies, unable to appreciate a beautiful scene. Instead of drinking in the lovely view, he simply said flatly: “Your book is upside down.”

Han Fu paused, looked down, and frowned: “It’s not!”

“Pretending. Can you even read it?” Pei Zhen dried his own hair, water droplets slowly sliding down his collarbone. “It’s late. Go back to your own room.”

Han Fu swallowed, closed the book, climbed off the bed, and diligently helped him blow-dry his hair. After finishing and putting the dryer away, he trotted right back, looking earnest.

“Young Master Pei, the contract agreed on an eight-hour workday.”

Pei Zhen: “Mm.”

Han Fu: “So… now that I’m in school, I can’t be with you during the day, right? How about we shift my working hours to nighttime—I work the night shift, keeping you company while you sleep?”

Pei Zhen: “Thanks, but no. Don’t worry about the pay.”

“I’m not worried about pay~”

The little wolfdog obediently nestled back onto the bed, tilting his face up to stare directly at him. In the night’s shadows, the tiny teardrop mole beneath his eye was pure, innocent temptation.

Pei Zhen wasn’t exactly a saint immune to temptation, nor was the bed too small.

He just genuinely felt he absolutely couldn’t keep sinking unchecked into this soft, springy, sweet marshmallow fluff.

Han Fu was now… no longer just a small emotional anchor. He had become the repository for all of Pei Zhen’s ambition and his passionate “love” for the craft of fragrance blending.

And if the lessons learned from past failures were any guide—staking all your feelings on one person was already terrible enough!

Adding your entire livelihood and life’s work on top of that? When it all fell apart, you wouldn’t even know what killed you!

…What was he even doing? The more he thought, the stupider he felt.

Clearly, he was the one spending money, yet it felt like he’d somehow fallen into a trap of his own making?

Thankfully, Han Fu was oblivious, still not realizing he’d long since gained the upper hand. So, before the silly boy caught on, it was only sensible to rein his heart back in as much as possible!

His mind was perfectly clear about this.

But reality, however, was that with beauty right before him, mental clarity was useless.

…

The bedside lamp went out. In the dim starlight of night, half of Han Fu’s face was buried in the pillow’s shadow, his eyes glistening.

Having such a good-looking man lying beside you, fixing you with that slightly pitiful, slightly yearning, earnest yet humble boyish gaze—it filled your vanity to bursting in an instant.

Under such immensely gratifying circumstances—what Sugar Daddy could bear to sternly shoo the other person away?

“Mmm…”

The little wolfdog shifted, a deeply sexy, husky nasal sound emanating from his throat.

Pei Zhen jolted. In that brief moment of distraction, his wrist was caught.

The presence suddenly drew very near.

Pei Zhen: “What are you doing!”

“Zhenzhen, let me kiss you, okay?” The alluring voice whispered in his ear, tickling the outer rim. “Just once.”

Truthfully, in such bewitching, faint night light, reflected in such intoxicating eyes, anyone would probably feel an impulse to embrace, kiss, and lose themselves completely.

But… it was way too dangerous! Starry sky, night atmosphere, the bedroom—perfect time, place, and bed. What came after the kiss? Being devoured in minutes, from then on held entirely in the palm of someone’s hand?

No way!

He pushed firmly against the little wolfdog’s collarbone, shoving him to a safe distance: “You! What did you just call me? Four times! Four times now, that’s a total deduction of two hundred for today! If this keeps up, you’ll be working an entire day for nothing!”

A moment of silence. Then an arm hooked punishingly around his waist, the young man’s entire weight pressing down. His sexy, low voice carried a hint of dissatisfaction: “Zhenzhenzhenzhenzhenzhenzhen, Zhenzhen! Deduct away!”

Pei Zhen: “…”

The octopus-hold had grown stronger, the shamelessness scaling up alongside it. And this time, it wasn’t just a shoulder drape—a thigh hooked around his waist.

“So unhappy! Didn’t you clearly promise that day, that if I won, I’d get a reward?”

“Didn’t I already agree to the candlelit dinner?” Granted! The reservation was already made.

“Not enough.”

Pei Zhen: “Who told you to ask for so much!”

Han Fu: “Ah, so disappointed… Aren’t I your ‘Star of Tomorrow’? Your ‘prized commodity’ for charging into the Hall of Fame someday? If you let valuable assets get emotionally down, the fragrances they blend will carry an unsweet note! And without the nourishment of love, I’ll gradually wither and die of melancholy. Once I die, you’ll run off and like someone else immediately. You’ll buy clothes for someone else, be nice to someone else, coax smiles from someone else. A relic like me, you’d forget in a heartbeat. It’s truly too tragic. Zhenzhen, tell me! Why are you treating me this way?”

“…” An utterly peerless drama king.

“No kisses, then at least~ let me hold you?” The voice was pitiful.

“Aren’t you holding me already!”

“Hm? Oh, right,” Han Fu nuzzled him, sighing, “But just holding… really isn’t enough, after all.”

He shifted, and something hard poked his hipbone.

Pei Zhen: “You…”

You! Go! Back! To! Your! Room!

A volcano was about to erupt. But in the darkness, Han Fu spoke first: “Zhenzhen, studying hard at perfumery, entering the Annual Top Ten, defeating Yi Changqing… do you truly think… I have that kind of potential?”

“…”

“Could I really… do better than that person?”

Although most people dislike mentioning exes, especially heart-wrenching ones.

The name “Yi Changqing,” however, was never a taboo subject for Pei Zhen.

Because it couldn’t be taboo.

After all, the man was now the Gold Medal Chief Perfumer at Belle, the industry’s pinnacle!

His face, his name, his works—they were everywhere. Unless you quit fragrance blending entirely, as long as you were in the business, flipping through books or magazines meant being ready for the familiar name and photos to strike you like thunder at any moment.

Pei Zhen had long since gotten used to it. He couldn’t just change careers, so he had to learn to overcome it!

“Young Master Pei,” Receiving no answer, Han Fu tightened his arms. “Do you really think I’m better than Yi Changqing?”

It seemed like the same question, yet also an entirely different one. The low voice concealed some kind of emotion.

“You are absolutely better than him,” But Pei Zhen didn’t delve deeper, just roughly recalling some of the little ingrate’s past ingratitudes. Ugh… “Way, way better!”

Anyone with a shred of conscience was better than that little ingrate. Hmph!

“Really?” The little wolfdog shifted atop him, wriggling.

“Really.”

“Then you have to believe me,” Han Fu whispered, “I will be better than him. Always, always.”

To say that hearing those words didn’t spark a small, warm, touched feeling spreading through the darkness would be a lie.

But… the ache. Pei Zhen looked down; the other man was still rock-hard, poking him mercilessly.

To still be able to chat so logically while in that state—he was a rare talent indeed.

Sweet talk could deceive, but logically, the body shouldn’t lie.

Though that wasn’t necessarily true either. In the darkness, Pei Zhen forced himself not to overthink it. Young men just had good stamina; even with a live person, heck, even with an inflatable doll, they could probably…

It hurts so much! How was he supposed to sleep like this!