Chapter 70 Part 1

Zhong Nian was very nervous and didn’t even dare to sit on the bed.

He thought for a moment, and while no one outside was paying attention, he scooped up the pile of little boxes from the bedside table and stuffed them haphazardly into the deepest part of the wardrobe, burying them under clothes.

Then he added another jacket to himself, zipping it all the way up, before leaving the most dangerous bedroom.

He would delay it as long as he could…

He frantically searched his mind for countermeasures. When the time came, he could say he wasn’t feeling well. If worst came to worst, he would smash the man unconscious with the table lamp from the bedside table.

“Little Nian, aren’t you going to sleep yet?” Mo Heng, who had already put his clothes into the washing machine, saw Zhong Nian standing in the living room.

He was wrapped in a very large jacket, which made his figure look much more petite. His freshly washed and blow-dried silver-white hair was very soft, reflecting a beautiful sheen under the lights. No one knew what his little head was agonizing over—he frowned, pursed his lips, and clutched his clothes until they were wrinkled.

This appearance was particularly endearing in Mo Heng’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Zhong Nian snapped back to his senses and subtly dodged the man’s approach, sitting down on the sofa.

“I’m not sleepy yet. I’ll watch TV for a bit first.”

He casually selected a TV drama and pretended to watch it with great interest.

Mo Heng didn’t disturb him anymore. He brought him a cup of hot water and placed it on the table before going to take a shower first.

The moment he heard the bathroom door close, Zhong Nian relaxed.

Keeping an ear on the sounds from there, he suddenly remembered something. He left the sofa, ran over, and lightly knocked on the bathroom door.

“Does Little Nian need something?”

“Um…”

Before he could even speak, the bathroom door suddenly opened.

The shower was still running hot water with a steady hiss. Amid the steam and mist, the man—who had only washed halfway—opened the door completely naked, his wet hair devoid of any styling, dripping water.

The cold white light from the bathroom ceiling shone down, casting shadows over his brows and eyes beneath the strands of hair. The gaze he fixed on Zhong Nian was as if soaked in water—damp, yet like it came from the depths of an ancient well, sending chills through anyone who met it.

Their eyes met for just a second, and Zhong Nian’s breath hitched. He hurriedly looked away, but not before inadvertently sweeping over the man’s abdomen, where water droplets and veins trailed sinuously, and the heavy, massive thing below it. His pupils quaked.

Amid the roaring in his brain, he vaguely heard the man call his name again.

Pretending to be calm, he averted his eyes and said, “I just wanted to take the clothes you changed out of and put them in the washing machine together.”

“These things are fine for Husband to handle alone. Little Nian doesn’t need to worry about it. Go watch TV.” The man replied.

Zhong Nian choked for a moment: “…It’s just tossing clothes into the washing machine. It hardly counts as work. Give them to me quickly—you’re not wearing anything, don’t catch a cold.”

Hearing the last bit of concern, Mo Heng’s lips curved into a smile as he handed over the clothes: “Thank you, Baby.”

“Mm.” Zhong Nian snatched them and immediately slipped away.

He ran to the washing machine on the balcony. Even after feeling none of the steamy heat from the bathroom, the air still felt somewhat stifling.

The image lingered inescapably in his mind, and Zhong Nian secretly regretted it.

He should have sharpened the dagger properly while the man was out that afternoon—ideally until it could slice through iron like mud.

Growing something so terrifying as a Weapon and still wanting to do it.

It would kill someone.

He gritted his back molars and continued with his task.

He thoroughly checked Mo Heng’s pockets but found nothing, so he tossed them aside. Then he fetched the jacket Mo Heng had worn out that day.

Still nothing.

Where on earth had he put the Access Pass?

While the man was still in the bathroom, Zhong Nian began rummaging through the living room, checking every possible spot. He even went into the bedroom to search.

Still nothing.

He practically turned the drawers inside out, kneeling on the carpet with his waist bent low, not sparing any corner. He searched until sweat beaded on his forehead.

He didn’t even notice when the man came out of the bathroom.

“What is Little Nian looking for?”

Zhong Nian jolted, instinctively trying to back away. His butt bumped right into the man’s calf. He looked up and met the man’s gaze.

“I… I’m looking for something.”

Mo Heng bent down and picked him up, placing him on the bed to sit. He patted the non-existent dust from his knees: “What are you looking for? Husband will help you.”

Zhong Nian’s eyes darted, and he simply said it outright: “I want to see what your Access Pass looks like.”

“What do you want to see that for?” Mo Heng’s expression didn’t change, his tone calm as well. His attention was on Zhong Nian’s knees. He lifted the leg of his sleep pants, covering them with his large palm and gently kneading: “You knelt on the carpet until they turned red.”

Feeling the heat of the man’s palm on his knees, which ached a bit from the kneading, Zhong Nian flinched but didn’t resist the action. His mind was entirely on the Access Pass: “I don’t have one yet, so I’m a bit curious.”

The man nodded: “Mm, your husband will get it for Little Nian to see.”

“Really?” Zhong Nian hadn’t expected the man to agree so readily. His face remained calm, but his heart rate quickened slightly. He grabbed the man’s wrist to stand: “Then you get it now…”