Chapter 36
That night, they slept together, but Lu Xuefeng couldn’t fall asleep, perhaps because he wasn’t used to the tatami mat.
Another reason was that they had just confessed their feelings and he was still processing everything.
Seeing he was awake, Song Muqing turned on a bedside lamp and opened the curtains, revealing the view from the large triangular window.
A few faint lights dotted the farm in the distance, distant and blurry in the night, the quiet landscape seeming strangely desolate.
The night sky was dark.
Song Muqing looked up. “There are stars,” he said to Lu Xuefeng.
He was standing on a soft rug, two small cushions nearby, just enough space for two people to sit and chat.
Lu Xuefeng, putting on a jacket, joined him by the window, gazing at the twinkling stars through the glass.
The flickering lights against the vast darkness created a magical atmosphere.
Looking at the stars, Lu Xuefeng suddenly recalled the first time he and Song Muqing had stargazed together.
They had been strolling, chatting, then looked up at the sky.
That night, after stargazing, they had agreed to marry.
It felt strangely serendipitous.
“What is it?” Song Muqing asked, hearing his soft chuckle.
“Nothing, I just remembered the first time we watched the stars together,” Lu Xuefeng hugged his knees, resting his chin on them, and looked at Song Muqing. “And then we got married.”
Song Muqing remembered that night vividly.
He had proposed.
He smiled. “I didn’t expect you to agree so quickly.”
Lu Xuefeng considered this. “Even if I hadn’t agreed then, I would have eventually.”
Because Song Muqing was different.
And he had needed someone to marry.
It could only have been Song Muqing.
Lu Xuefeng rested his cheek on his arm, looking at him, his voice slowing, his eyelashes fluttering. “What if… I hadn’t agreed?” he asked hypothetically.
“Then I would have kept trying,” Song Muqing replied calmly, not having considered that possibility.
He said seriously, “I would have persisted.”
His words were sincere, as if he had been determined to marry him.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t help but laugh.
After a while, they fell silent.
Lu Xuefeng’s smile faded, and he leaned closer to Song Muqing.
They were already sitting close together, so a slight shift brought them face to face.
Lu Xuefeng’s eyes held a hint of curiosity and scrutiny.
“Song Muqing,” he tilted his head slightly, asking intuitively, “Did you… intentionally approach me?”
Song Muqing’s breath hitched.
That beautiful, aloof face, coupled with the casual, almost playful tone, was unexpectedly alluring.
They were so close that Song Muqing instinctively leaned in for a kiss.
But Lu Xuefeng stopped him, leaning back slightly, creating some distance.
He needed an answer first.
Song Muqing chuckled softly, his heart fluttering.
“What do you think?” he countered, turning the question back on him, leaning closer, almost enveloping him in his embrace.
The answer wasn’t satisfactory.
Lu Xuefeng leaned back further, as if to leave.
Song Muqing held his hand, pulling him back.
“Not watching the stars anymore?”
He embraced him from behind, his arms wrapping around him securely.
Lu Xuefeng, feeling the warmth of his embrace, said he still wanted to watch the stars.
Then, somehow, they were kissing again.
Perhaps it was Song Muqing’s gentle nibbling on his ear, his warm breath against his skin, that distracted him from the stars.
He hadn’t been sleepy to begin with, and now, after the kiss, he was even more awake.
He finally drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.
The next morning, Lu Xuefeng didn’t wake up for breakfast.
He was fast asleep.
Song Muqing received a message from Mu Ting, urging them to come down for breakfast, so he went alone.
He also brought back some food for Lu Xuefeng, so he could eat when he woke up.
Mu Ting, seeing he was alone, asked where Xuefeng was.
“He slept late last night. He’s still asleep.”
Mu Ting responded with an “Oh,” giving him a knowing look.
Yao Yao, distracted during breakfast, asked sweetly why Little Uncle wasn’t up yet, still sleeping.
Lin Yue immediately stuffed a piece of bread in her mouth.
“Children shouldn’t ask such questions.”
“Why not?” Yao Yao mumbled through a mouthful of bread. “I don’t sleep in anymore.”
Implying Little Uncle should learn from her.
Mu Ting chuckled. “Yes, yes, Yao Yao deserves praise.”
Song Muqing calmly finished his breakfast and packed a plate for Lu Xuefeng.
Mu Ting walked over, saying thoughtfully, “This milk is warm. Bring a glass for Xuefeng too.”
Song Muqing turned to her, sensing something in her tone.
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’?” Mu Ting glanced at him. “You slept so late.”
“…?”
Song Muqing didn’t understand what the big deal was; insomnia was normal.
Mu Ting didn’t say more, patting his arm. “Let Xuefeng sleep. There’s no rush.”
“Okay.”
Mu Ting, about to go take some photos, added as she left, “You’re both grown men; show some restraint.”
Song Muqing finally understood her meaning, but he didn’t say anything.
After a good night’s sleep, Lu Xuefeng woke up, refreshed, and had a late breakfast. They spent the rest of the morning at the farm.
As it was almost time to leave, Yao Yao clung to Lu Xuefeng, wanting to play with him, dragging Ollie along.
They packed their bags and left in the afternoon.
Ollie, having had so much fun, was reluctant to leave.
The weather was nice on their way back.
The car windows were open, the warm breeze filling the car.
Music played softly.
Ollie, tired from playing, was asleep on Song Hongfan’s lap.
Mu Ting was looking at photos on her phone.
They were mostly quiet, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere after a fun day out. They could nap, daydream, look at their phones, listen to music, or simply enjoy the silence.
Lu Xuefeng liked this.
He hadn’t had many opportunities for leisurely outings, especially with family.
But now, with his parents and Song Muqing, it felt comfortable and carefree.
He cherished these moments.
They dropped his parents off first, and Mu Ting immediately invited them for dinner, saying there was plenty of food in the refrigerator.
They hadn’t had dinner with his parents in a while, and their own refrigerator was empty.
Song Muqing accepted the invitation.
Mu Ting prepared a chicken stew.
During dinner, she served Lu Xuefeng the best pieces and a large bowl of soup.
“Chicken soup is nourishing. Have more, Xuefeng.”
Lu Xuefeng didn’t eat much rice, but he finished the soup.
Song Muqing glanced at him; there was still some soup left in his bowl.
Lu Xuefeng asked what was wrong.
Song Muqing shook his head, then said, “Yes, nourishing.”
His words were cryptic.
Lu Xuefeng nudged him lightly with his leg under the table.
Song Muqing, startled, couldn’t help but smile.
His parents looked at him, puzzled. “What are you smiling about?”
Lu Xuefeng was quite full.
After dinner, he sat on the sofa with Mu Ting, looking at photos.
She had taken many photos, many of them similar, and she couldn’t decide which ones to delete, so she asked Lu Xuefeng for his opinion.
There were also photos of him, quite nice ones.
“Look, they’re so good, no need for any editing,” Mu Ting said with a smile. “It’s because Xuefeng is so handsome and photogenic.”
She sent the photos to Lu Xuefeng privately.
Song Muqing walked over, hearing their conversation. “Send me a copy too.”
“Why are you asking me for them?” Mu Ting retorted. “Why didn’t you take any yourself?”
“Yours are better,” Song Muqing complimented his mother.
Although she complained, Mu Ting readily sent him the photos.
It was already evening when they returned to their apartment.
Lu Xuefeng, relaxing on the sofa, finally felt the exhaustion creeping in. He felt more tired than after a dance rehearsal.
He lay there, his mind blank, while Song Muqing went to the bathroom, then to the study to retrieve some books and his laptop.
Song Muqing sat on the floor in front of the sofa, his glasses on, looking ready to work.
Lu Xuefeng was surprised. “Aren’t you going to rest?”
“I’m not tired.”
Lu Xuefeng watched as he started replying to messages from his students and opening files.
“I filled the bathtub for you. You can take a bath,” Song Muqing said suddenly, his back to him.
Lu Xuefeng was momentarily stunned. “For me?”
Song Muqing turned around. “Didn’t you say you wanted a bath yesterday?”
He hadn’t mentioned it, but Song Muqing had remembered.
Such a thoughtful husband.
Lu Xuefeng immediately went to the bedroom, grabbing a bathrobe and heading to the bathroom.
The warm water enveloped him, relaxing his tired muscles, his exhaustion melting away. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his mind blank.
After fifteen minutes, he almost dozed off.
Song Muqing, not seeing him emerge from the bathroom, glanced at the time; he had been in there for quite a while.
He closed his laptop and knocked on the bathroom door.
Lu Xuefeng, almost asleep, was startled. “Hmm? What is it?”
“I thought you fell asleep,” Song Muqing, relieved to hear his voice, said, “Don’t stay in there too long.”
“Okay,” Lu Xuefeng replied.
Staying in the bath for too long wasn’t good. He was starting to feel overheated and slightly lightheaded.
He stood up, the water sloshing around him, and took a quick shower, then put on his bathrobe and headed towards the kitchen for a drink.
As he passed the living room, Song Muqing was about to take his laptop to the study. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
“No, thank you.”
Lu Xuefeng grabbed a bottle of coconut water from the refrigerator, opening it and taking a sip as he walked towards the study.
He felt much better after the bath, no longer tired. Having finished his previous book, he needed a new one.
Song Muqing put his laptop in his bag and turned around to see Lu Xuefeng standing by the bookshelf in his bathrobe, the belt tied loosely around his waist, revealing his slender frame.
He was looking up, choosing a book.
His hair was slightly damp.
Beneath the bathrobe, his legs were long and shapely, toned from years of dancing.
Song Muqing leaned against his desk. “Xuefeng.”
Lu Xuefeng, holding a book, looked at him.
“Come here.”
Lu Xuefeng, assuming he had something to say, walked over.
Song Muqing’s gaze followed him, then lowered to the book in his hand as he approached.
“What book?”
Lu Xuefeng showed him the book. “Have you read it?”
It was a collection of essays by a renowned author, with a black cover. Song Muqing hadn’t read it.
He said no.
Lu Xuefeng placed the book on the desk. Song Muqing took his hand.
“What is it?” Lu Xuefeng asked.
Perhaps from the hot bath, his skin was still flushed, a faint pink tinge.
His eyes were slightly damp and reddened.
Song Muqing felt the warmth radiating from him, the clean, fresh scent of Lu Xuefeng.
He touched the damp strands of hair on his forehead. “Your hair is wet.”
“Yes, I splashed some water on it while washing my face.”
He had washed his hair yesterday, so he hadn’t washed it again today, just a quick rinse in the shower.
He hadn’t bothered to dry it properly.
Song Muqing didn’t mind, finding him endearing with the damp hair falling across his forehead.
His touch lingered on Lu Xuefeng’s eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his chin, then moved lower, to his neck.
Lu Xuefeng almost forgot to breathe, the touch igniting a fire within him.
He wanted to say something, but seeing the desire in Song Muqing’s eyes, he felt a strange sense of indulgence.
The atmosphere was charged with unspoken desire.
Their breaths quickened.
The collar of his bathrobe was loose, revealing the smooth, pale skin of his neck and the delicate curve of his collarbone.
Song Muqing’s gaze lowered, his fingers tracing the delicate skin of his neck, moving lower.
The warmth spread, his neck and the skin behind his ears flushed pink.
Song Muqing’s fingers paused.
He gently pulled the collar of the bathrobe aside, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin.
A jolt of electricity shot through Lu Xuefeng, a shiver running down his spine, a wave of heat washing over him.
His chest rose and fell, his breathing erratic. He was about to speak, to tell him to stop, when Song Muqing spoke first.
“Xuefeng,” his voice was low and husky.
He looked up, his eyes filled with desire, almost devouring him.
“You have a mole here.”
A small, faint mole, almost invisible.
Just above his heart.
