Chapter 77 Part 2

After looking around, he chose the vanity. Just as he was about to shove everything deep into the drawer, he discovered a few more boxes already there.

No, no.

He quickly took them out too and looked for another place.

He climbed onto a stool and opened the top cabinet door of the wardrobe, which held out-of-season clothes and bedding, all neatly stored in organized boxes.

The crumpled little bags stuffed in the gaps stood out starkly.

Zhong Nian’s breathing quickened as a guess jumped into his mind: Could this be some key clue item?

He nervously glanced toward the bathroom. Mo Heng seemed to have finished scrubbing the tub and was washing something else, showing no sign of coming out.

He carefully pulled out the bag without making a sound, held his breath, and opened it—

Inside were several more little boxes of different styles.

“…”

“…………”

Zhong Nian bit his teeth to keep from stomping the floor in rage.

What was wrong with him! Why put these things here!

He wanted to tear the boxes apart with his teeth, but Mo Heng seemed about done in the bathroom. Ignoring his anger, he kept searching for a hiding spot.

The bedroom wasn’t big; going out would require passing the bathroom door, bound to catch Mo Heng’s attention…

In his urgency, Zhong Nian simply shoved everything under the bed.

He had just straightened up when Mo Heng emerged from the bathroom.

“What’s Baby doing?”

Zhong Nian wiped nonexistent sweat from his face. “Nothing. I was just stretching. Been cooped up at home all day; my body’s stiff.”

Mo Heng seemed unsuspecting. “Your husband will help you.”

“No, no need…” Zhong Nian couldn’t dodge and was pulled by Mo Heng to half-recline on the bed.

He tried to sit up, but his ankle was caught by a large hand and lifted. The sudden ache in his calf made him let out a soft hum.

“As your husband, I should take good care of my wife, so I specially learned this.” Mo Heng’s voice was warm and thick, his hands applying the perfect pressure as he kneaded Zhong Nian’s calf muscles bit by bit. “But I never had a chance to practice. How does Little Nian think it feels?”

Zhong Nian couldn’t quite say. “It’s good, but really no need… Ah! Don’t press there…”

“Does it hurt here? Then we need to massage it more.” Mo Heng firmly held his calf, pressing it against his own thigh.

His fingers, fresh from water, were slightly cool at first but soon warmed against the youth’s soft skin.

The long, strong fingers worked upward, gradually pushing Zhong Nian’s pant leg up to his thigh.

Pajama pants were loose, sliding up without resistance all the way to the root.

A pair of milky-white, perfectly proportioned legs were fully exposed to the air. His knees were a pale pink, and perhaps from kneeling on the floor earlier, two red pressure marks had formed.

But on these nearly flawless legs were scattered spots of marks—all the man’s handiwork from last night.

A day and night later, the marks hadn’t faded; their color had deepened.

As if deliberate, the callused fingers lingered over the love bites, deepening them.

The man’s eyes darkened, his gaze substantial as it followed his fingers, inch by inch, full of appreciation.

No wonder his little wife kicked so hard; these legs looked soft and slender, but upon close kneading, they were tough beneath the softness, forming beautiful lines when tensed.

How was he born so perfectly?

There wasn’t a single part that didn’t captivate.

“Is Baby comfortable?” As he spoke, Mo Heng’s voice turned low and husky, laced with an amorous tone.

“I’m not very comfortable. Better stop.” Zhong Nian tried to pull his leg back but incredulously watched the man lower his head and plant a light kiss on his foot.

As if scalded, the startled Zhong Nian misjudged his strength and kicked straight into the man’s chest.

Mo Heng grunted in pain, clutching his chest and doubling over, motionless.

Zhong Nian got scared and quickly sat up to check. “Are you okay?”

A kick elsewhere might be fine, but some spots couldn’t be hit casually.

Zhong Nian felt genuinely remorseful, and seeing Mo Heng silent, his eyes reddened in anxiety.

“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to kick your chest. How are you now? Say something!”

Zhong Nian tried to pry the man’s hand away to check under his clothes but was instead grabbed and pressed directly against the feverishly hot chest.

Mo Heng looked up, appearing somewhat pitiful, and said softly, “It hurts… Baby, rub it for your husband.”

“Okay.”

The anxious Zhong Nian hurriedly rubbed Mo Heng’s chest gently, asking all the while, “Does it hurt? Any trouble breathing? Should we go to the hospital?”

He looked up to find the man gazing at him with smiling eyes, no trace of the previous pain that kept him bent over.

“You tricked me?” Zhong Nian was about to get mad when he was hugged and pinned down. Something on the bed dug into his back, hurting a bit.

“Baby cares about your husband, worries for him. I’m so happy.” Mo Heng still held his hand to his heart. “Can you feel it? It’s beating so fast.”

Zhong Nian had no mind to feel any heartbeat. “Get off me.”

“Remember? Your husband said at lunch he’d bring a surprise home for Baby.” Mo Heng lifted him off the bed with one arm and pulled back the covers with the other, revealing over a dozen boxes underneath.

“See, your husband bought a whole bunch more.”

Zhong Nian’s eyes widened, and then he saw Mo Heng pull open two nightstand drawers, overflowing with countless more boxes.

Mo Heng smiled. “Your husband put them in lots of places, so we won’t have to worry about not finding them when we need them.”

He turned his head, gazing tenderly and deeply at his paling little wife. “Happy, Baby?”