“…”
Ming Ying couldn’t utter a single word.
He didn’t even detect the hidden sourness in that remark. The straight-man attributes Ming Ying had retained were probably limited to just this part.
Right now, Ming Ying’s mind was completely filled with one statement: Touch is a form of expression.
Silas had said this before.
Warm touch could be an expression of comfort, affection, love, encouragement.
And light, delicate, almost lingering friction—that was an expression laden with erotic meaning.
In just this short span of time, Ming Ying had fully comprehended this statement. He bitterly chastised himself, how was he a natural at grasping these things…
Worse still, being touched on the face by the old man had actually made him hard.
The atmosphere in the room had noticeably become somewhat sticky.
Ming Ying gripped his mouse and began spouting nonsense with a straight face.
“Teacher, I actually don’t know him.”
Silas didn’t speak, only applying a bit more force to pinch Ming Ying’s cheek.
Ming Ying made a muffled sound. Suddenly, imitating the man’s earlier gesture, he tilted his face just slightly, intentionally planting a kiss on Silas’s palm.
“Believe me.”
With that kiss, Ming Ying clearly felt the hand resting on his cheek freeze momentarily.
Heh, using an opponent’s own tricks against them.
Sure enough, the next moment, the man behind him patted his face. “Ming, turn around.”
“…”
Ming Ying secretly drew a breath, struggling to calm the damp ripples ceaselessly rising in his heart.
Sitting on the soft chair, Ming Ying swayed gently, spinning himself and the chair around. Because he turned while seated, his gaze landed directly on the man’s waist and abdomen…
Perhaps because he was preparing to head out, Silas wasn’t wearing the sweater he’d had on earlier but had changed into a black shirt. Right now, Ming Ying fixed his stare on the smooth button at the very bottom of the shirt, blinking.
To be honest, he was a little afraid to look further down.
But that hand wouldn’t spare him, practically pressing against his chin, forcing him to lower his head.
Damn.
And so, in this silent standoff against it, Ming Ying suddenly laughed.
With a single laugh, he wrapped his arms around Silas’s waist, then tilted his head back, asking with feigned innocence, “So, is this also punishment?”
From his angle, he could only see Silas looking down, expressionless.
Thus, Ming Ying felt the pressure of the hand caressing his face, listening to him say, “What do you think.”
…
The cushion of the leather soft chair was beautiful, supple yet firm, emitting faint creaks when compressed, sounding somewhat suppressed in the ears, prompting involuntary winces of pain.
The armrests of the leather soft chair were wide and narrow, the texture smooth. Two calves were parted and hung over them, swaying unsteadily, sometimes curling, sometimes pointing.
“Teacher, I beg you… ngh, it really hurts…”
“No talking.”
“No way, damn it, on what grounds—Ah!”
Lips and breath were forcibly covered, swallowing the “old bastard” back down.
Nearly suffocating.
…
In the end, Ming Ying collapsed onto Mr. Aston’s desk, using his fingernails—so short they were practically invisible—to scratch two faint marks into the solid wood desktop.
Silas saw this, then picked up the paws of the now near-breathless boy to examine them before his eyes.
Not only were they rubbed red, they were broken, oozing a few drops of blood.
The man frowned slightly. “Ming, your hand is bleeding. Why didn’t you say so?”
Ming Ying hadn’t fully regained his senses. He lay there, his back heaving violently.
Silas stroked his damp head, then bent down, intending to scoop him up horizontally.
But Ming Ying resisted fiercely, instantly jolting fully awake. Being carried was one thing, but a princess carry, what the hell was that?!
“I can walk myself!”
“…”
Silas had no choice but to stand there, serving as a coat rack for Ming Ying to lean on while getting dressed.
Then Ming Ying used Mr. Aston as a crutch, hobbling and cursing his way downstairs while clinging to the man’s arm.
Silas listened to him curse, unable to help the faint smile tugging at his lips.
Ming Ying saw this, gritted his teeth and said, “Fuck, you were way too rough. I’m really pissed off now…”
“Tell me, what grudge do I have against you?!”
And then Ming Ying heard Silas lean down toward him and whisper in his ear, “Sorry…”
Seemingly adding something more, Ming Ying’s face suddenly flushed crimson.
Once they were both downstairs, Ming Ying suddenly blurted out, “Cough. You’re for real?”
Silas looked at him, hooking his lip. “Ming, I never lie.”
Silas said he could grant Ming Ying one wish.
He had actually said it quite properly, but Ming Ying’s mind was impure, dwelling on something unknown, his face turning bright red.
The next second, Ming Ying’s forehead was tapped by the man before him.
“Don’t think about things you shouldn’t.”
“…”
Ming Ying was quite annoyed. He let go, scoffing, “Oh, so it’s because I pleasured you enough, and now you’re rewarding me, is that it?”
Silas frowned. “Ming.”
Ming Ying fell silent.
Silas guided the man over to the sofa that now lacked its cover and had Ming Ying lie face down.
The moment Ming Ying lay down, he flipped a hand back to protect his rear.
Then he used that vigilant look to watch the man in front of him take a seat beside him.
Silas, of course, noticed his little gesture but couldn’t be bothered to comment.
He pulled a first-aid kit from the coffee table.
“Give me your hand.”
Ming Ying hesitated, then obediently extended his paw. He glanced at Silas’s equipment, clicking his tongue. “Pretty professional.”
Hearing this, Silas, while applying medicine to the broken skin on Ming Ying’s fingertips, asked, “You don’t have a first-aid kit in your apartment?”
“No,” Ming Ying thought for a moment. “Mark definitely doesn’t either.”
Silas glanced at him. “Buy one when you go back.”
“We won’t use it.” Ming Ying frowned softly. “Minor ailments don’t need treatment, major ones can’t be cured.”
Silas tossed the cotton swab into the trash and patted his head. “Be obedient.”
Ming Ying looked at his paw now coated in yellow medicinal liquid, then glanced at the hand of the man applying the medicine.
With that single glance, he suddenly noticed a bleeding bite mark on Silas’s right index finger.
Right at the base, a ring of blood, still encircling the index finger, almost like a ring itself.
Ming Ying chuckled. He had bitten that. But he had absolutely no intention of applying medicine for Silas. It was his fault to begin with.
Serves him right for always liking to stick it in his mouth!
Ming Ying was right there grinning with glee when Silas suddenly got up and left.
Ming Ying froze, craning his neck to follow the man’s steps. He saw him go into the kitchen, a slight frown forming.
A moment later, Ming Ying saw Silas walking back, a few bills pinched between his fingers.
“…”
“Ming, I still have some questions to ask you.”
“…What?”
Silas sat back down beside him, tapping the bills on the coffee table. “Explain this, and the matter of you leaving at noon.”
I… fuck.
Ming Ying was somewhat stupefied.
So, from the moment this man had brought him back, to discussing academic issues in the study, to being pinned down and fucked on the swivel chair and desk, nearly an entire afternoon had passed, and this old man still hadn’t forgotten about this damn matter?!
Truly petty and narrow-minded.
Silas asked, “What are you thinking?”
Ming Ying frowned. “I’m thinking whether my seduction failed miserably, since you can still remember this.”
Silas laughed, turning his face to the side. “Haven’t had time to fabricate a lie yet?”
Ming Ying: “No, I’m still thinking.”
Silas stood up again. “Then think carefully. Best if you can make it convincing.”
“…”
Ming Ying propped his chin on his hand, his gaze following him.
Silas pushed open the glass door and walked out into the yard.
Ming Ying watched Silas standing outside talking on the phone, the golden, glowing afterglow spread over him. In that instant, he felt the man standing outside wasn’t the School Board Director, but the young man in that photo.
So he forced himself up onto his arms, but before he could fully sit up, Ming Ying saw Silas light a cigarette.
“…”
Ming Ying realized for the first time that he smoked.
Perhaps because someone was waiting, Silas finished his cigarette very quickly, like a wisp of smoke fleeting by.
He stubbed it out. After returning to the living room, Ming Ying asked, “You smoke?”
Silas looked at him. “Do you mind?”
“It’s not… not about minding.”
Ming Ying tried to recall. “But how come I’ve never seen you smoke before?”
“Rarely do.”
“Oh. Then why just now?”
Silas turned his gaze to him, expressing his feelings without any shyness whatsoever. “Because Ming, today, I felt very good.”
I… fuck.
Ming Ying was shocked stupid once again.
This seemed to be the first time he’d heard Silas say something like this.
Silas hooked a lip. “What’s wrong?”
Ming Ying managed to sit up, a vague unease he couldn’t describe taking hold. “Should I say something?”
“Like what?”
“Uh, like, I’m honored or something?”
Silas laughed aloud at this. “You should first elaborate on your lie.”
Ming Ying coughed, organized his words, and decided to explain the part he could explain first.
He said, “The thirty dollars was because I broke your cup when I left. Compensation.”
This reason was, unexpectedly, outside Silas’s anticipation.
He raised an eyebrow. “What cup?”
Ming Ying looked around, pointed at the cup on the corner of the coffee table. “That kind.”
Silas glanced at it, said nothing.
Ming Ying continued, “Because I was in a huge hurry at the time, and I couldn’t find you, so I left thirty dollars…”
Silas said, “I understand.”
He paused, “But Ming, take the thirty dollars back.”
“Was it too much? No need for change, since the cup is already broken.”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it?”
Silas looked down at him. “It was a souvenir a friend brought back from Norway. The unit price was three hundred sixty dollars.”
“…”
In other words, your thirty dollars doesn’t even cover a fraction.
The smile on Ming Ying’s face froze.
He inwardly cursed the Norwegians along with it, finally muttering softly, “What kind of cup costs so much, and yet it’s so fragile. Don’t tell me you were conned.”
“Ming, cups are for drinking water, not for testing their resistance to impact.”
“…” Ming Ying thought defiantly, well, I wasn’t born with an ass for you to fuck either.
Of course, he didn’t dare say that aloud.
But his defiance was written all over his face. Silas didn’t mind, asking, “Then why did you take a cab at noon and leave?”
“…What do you mean, why.”
“Why leave in a cab?”
“Because… because I managed to get one.”
Was he supposed to walk? That remark, he still didn’t dare voice aloud.
The air was quiet for a while.
Amidst the silence, Ming Ying secretly looked up, meeting Silas’s narrowed eyes.
“Ming, I remember we’ve already repeated this conversation once.”
“…Did we.”
“So, why did you leave?”
Ming Ying fell silent again.
Silas didn’t rush him. The two of them just waited for the answer.
About five minutes passed.
“I don’t know.”
How could Ming Ying know why his first reaction was to run? To say Silas was scary was true, but he couldn’t exactly eat him (outside of bed, that is).
After saying this “I don’t know,” Ming Ying found himself lost in thought too.
Unexpectedly, Silas suddenly said, “Is it the pressure I give you?”
Ming Ying’s heart skipped a beat. He blinked, subconsciously saying, “It’s not that…”
Silas frowned. “Ming, are you afraid of me?”
“Uh,”
Ming Ying looked at him, his mouth moving slightly.
“Just say what you want to say.”
“Do you have to ask questions that are so hard to answer…”
He wanted to survive this with all limbs intact!
Silas, hearing this, rubbed his back and decided to switch to a more acceptable way of asking. “Then let me ask. You just answer yes or no.”
Ming Ying thought for a moment. This he could accept.
Seeing him silent, Silas started directly. “Dislike me?”
Ming Ying froze. “No.”
“Dislike having sex with me?”
Ming Ying’s expression twisted. “…No.”
The moment this answer left his mouth, even he felt a bit ashamed.
After all, just a few days before their first time, he was swearing he was a straight man!
Silas, however, didn’t dwell on this, instead rubbing Ming Ying’s back and continuing, “Dislike thinking about how to deal with me the next day after we finish, find it troublesome, correct?”
…Fuck, how did he just describe it perfectly.
Ming Ying felt guilty. “…How could that be.”
“Ming, the first step to overcoming a problem is to face it head-on.” Silas lowered his head slightly. “Otherwise, every time after we make love in the future, you’re going to run?”
“…”
Ming Ying couldn’t speak.
After all, handling this kind of relationship was beyond his syllabus.
So he said, “…Yes.”
The air was quiet for a few seconds. Silas laughed.
Ming Ying hurriedly added, “But, today I really was because, you know, I had class.”
“Hm.”
Damn it. Ming Ying thought remorsefully, why the hell did he agree to answer this stupid question? The old man was clearly trapping him with his words! Damn it, he’d been tricked again!
Ming Ying sat up and asked, “Aren’t you the same?”
“What is?”
“That, you know, just…”
Before he could finish, Silas touched his face and smiled. “Ming, you don’t always need to rush to think about the next day’s affairs. Learn to enjoy the present, isn’t that good?”
“…”
Learn to enjoy the present.
Teacher XI’s six-word motto.
Ming Ying decided to engrave it in his heart and put it into practice.
He scooted over. The two looked at each other, their breaths once again tinged with the other’s scent.
They fell into kissing again without knowing when.
By the time Ming Ying came to his senses, he had actually found himself back on Silas’s lap!
But amidst the kissing, Silas suddenly raised his hand and patted his butt.
Ming Ying frowned. “What are you doing?”
Silas, with impartial justice, pulled back the distance. “Get up. You can’t do it anymore today.”
“…”
Ming Ying scoffed, standing up somewhat shakily. “When did I ever say I was going to—”
One sentence, unfinished, looking down—fuck, this disgraceful thing.
Ming Ying was a bit embarrassed. He coughed. “I’m young, full of vigor. This is perfectly normal.”
Silas also stood up. Hearing this, he curved his lip into a smile. “Hm. You’re young, you’re amazing.”
“…”
The previous atmosphere scattered in a puff because of these two sentences.
Silas was heading to the kitchen to make dinner. “What do you want to eat?”
Ming Ying: “Whatever.”
Silas: “Ming, there’s no ‘whatever’ here.”
“…”
Ming Ying glanced at him. “You sound just like my dad.”
Silas stopped in his tracks, turning to look at him. “If you’re willing to call me that, I don’t mind.”
Dream on. Ming Ying said weakly, “I mind. I don’t like incest roleplay.”
Fuck. He really had grown bolder, daring to say anything to the School Board Director.
The next second, the man who was almost at the kitchen suddenly changed direction.
Ming Ying instinctively wanted to step back but forced himself to hold still.
So he just stood there as the man approached, pinched his chin, and gave him an almost brutal deep kiss.
When it ended, Ming Ying was panting heavily. He heard Silas pat his face. “Do you still mind now?”
Ming Ying: “I… I’d rather die than yield.”
Silas magnanimously let him off, saying, “It’s a bit late today, ingredients are limited. I’ll fry some steak.”
“Oh.”
Silas went into the kitchen. Ming Ying subconsciously followed.
Just as he got there, he saw Silas tying an apron around himself. Suddenly, his phone rang again.
So, Silas handled the pan with one hand and took the call with the other.
Ming Ying leaned against the doorframe, supporting his aching waist, watching with relish for a minute.
But as he watched, an imbalance rose in his heart again.
Because this old man seemed calm and composed no matter what he did, even while wielding a kitchen knife and talking to someone on the phone, his expression didn’t change.
As if he’d done this hundreds of times before.
Ming Ying thought to himself, if it were him, he’d probably end up mistaking soy sauce for vinegar.
How could the gap between people be so vast?
And just like that, Ming Ying’s wicked thoughts started up again. Since he couldn’t do it himself, he’d just go stir up some trouble.
After all, tonight he was already a sentenced invalid, unable to do anything—which meant he could do anything.
Heh.
Ming Ying hesitated on the spot for a moment, then walked straight over and snatched the phone from the man’s hand from behind.
Silas turned his face to the side, his expression still unchanged. He actually thought Ming Ying had come over to share his burden.
So he signaled Ming Ying to hold the phone higher.
Ming Ying glanced at the screen. It was Silas’s secretary.
Ming Ying coughed and cooperatively raised the phone, then stood on his tiptoes and leaned in closer.
Silas frowned slightly.
The next second, he felt a bite on his Adam’s apple.
