“…”
What? Stay where?
Wen Chaosheng was stunned by the sudden suggestion, taking several seconds before he could speak. “Th-that wouldn’t be right. I can just stay at the hotel with Sun Xuan and the others.”
Xi Zhui unbuckled his seatbelt and shot back, “What’s not right about it?”
Wen Chaosheng had no comeback. It just felt a little strange.
“My mom heard from Auntie Song that you were coming to Germany. Before she flew back home, she specifically told me to take good care of you while you’re here.”
Xi Zhui first invoked both their mothers, then countered, “What’s the problem? Aren’t we friends?”
Wen Chaosheng hemmed and hawed. “We are friends, but…”
“Zhao Ye and Feng Yi crash at my place all the time.” Xi Zhui cited his buddies as examples, one eyebrow arched. “Any issues with that?”
“None.”
Wen Chaosheng’s train of thought had been completely derailed. He blinked vacantly. “You make it sound totally reasonable.”
Refusing now would just make him look weird.
Xi Zhui gave the man across from him no room to argue, hopping out of the car first. “Let’s go, then. I’ll grab your bags.”
Wen Chaosheng surrendered completely. “Okay.”
…
Wen Chaosheng trailed after Xi Zhui into the living room of his home, still feeling a bit dazed.
Xi Zhui handed him a fresh pair of slippers. “No need to head out tonight. I’ll whip up some pasta for you. Sound good?”
Wen Chaosheng blinked in surprise. “You cook?”
“What else?” Xi Zhui was used to these occasional airheaded questions from him and grinned. “No way am I making you cook when you’re a guest at my place.”
“If pasta’s not your thing, there’s half a frozen pizza in the fridge. I can pop it in the oven.”
The thought of dinner made by Xi Zhui made Wen Chaosheng’s eyes light up. “I’m good with anything. I’m not picky.”
Xi Zhui smiled. “Pasta it is?”
He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a dining chair, then rolled up his shirt sleeves to reveal strong, sinewy forearms.
Wen Chaosheng’s gaze lingered there for an extra couple of seconds before shifting away. “Want me to help in the kitchen?”
“No need. Just sit tight and wait to eat.” Xi Zhui nodded toward the interior with his eyes. “Heat’s on inside. There’s a bathroom downstairs—you can grab a quick shower and change.”
Everything about his words was crisp and decisive, like he’d planned it all out ahead of time.
A total kitchen newbie, Wen Chaosheng could only smile and agree. “Alright, then.”
…
Dinner was pasta in a beef and mushroom cream sauce. It tasted fantastic.
Not wanting to waste Xi Zhui’s kindness, Wen Chaosheng—who normally had a small appetite—cleaned his plate, polishing off even the creamy mushroom soup.
Xi Zhui eyed the empty dishes and felt a rare glow of satisfaction from cooking for someone. “Good?”
Wen Chaosheng was still savoring the aftertaste and nodded vigorously. “Yeah, delicious.”
Xi Zhui chuckled. “I’ll make you something else for breakfast tomorrow.”
Wen Chaosheng immediately started looking forward to the morning, any lingering hesitation from before they entered the house now forgotten.
Glancing at the dirty dishes on the table, he offered politely, “I’ll do the dishes?”
“No need—dishwasher. We’ll get to it later.” Xi Zhui had no intention of letting him handle housework. “Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.”
The villa’s downstairs guest room was reserved for the live-in housekeeper, whom Xi Zhui had sent on a half-month vacation just yesterday. She wasn’t home.
The second floor featured two massive bedrooms. To the left of the stairs was the master bedroom belonging to the Xi couple, locked up now that both were back in China. To the right was Xi Zhui’s room.
Xi Zhui led Wen Chaosheng inside. “You’ll bunk in my room tonight. Cool?”
Wen Chaosheng was ready for it and agreed easily. “Sure.”
They’d shared a bed back in Gannan, so he knew the drill—as long as everyone stuck to their own blanket, it was fine.
But the next moment, Xi Zhui added, “Couldn’t find an extra duvet around the house, but the sheets and cover are fresh. We’ll have to share the one blanket tonight. That okay?”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng realized he hadn’t mentally prepared enough.
Before he could muster a reply, Xi Zhui backed off first. “If it makes you uncomfortable, take the whole thing. Room’s heated; I can tough it out without.”
“…”
How could he agree to that?
What if the guy caught a cold?
Wen Chaosheng didn’t even realize he’d walked straight into Xi Zhui’s trap, step by willing step.
He eyed the thick, roomy blanket, his mind fixed on keeping the other man from freezing overnight. “I’m fine. We can share it.”
The little turtle hopped right into the pit.
It was the sweet, predictable answer he’d been hoping for.
A glint of smug delight flickered in Xi Zhui’s eyes before vanishing. “Cool. The en-suite’s yours for brushing your teeth and washing up. I’ll shower downstairs and take care of the dishes.”
“Okay.”
The night deepened, a light drizzle pattering against the window.
Wen Chaosheng had already showered when he arrived, so he just did a quick freshen-up. Staring at the tidy, spacious bed, he didn’t dare claim his spot first.
Xi Zhui was still downstairs.
Seizing the moment, Wen Chaosheng took in the room’s layout with keen interest.
It was impressively roomy: master bed and bathroom on the left, a combined office and lounge area in the middle.
Tucked in the far-right corner was a compact adjustable staircase leading up to what had to be a third-floor attic.
Wen Chaosheng scanned the space, his gaze suddenly locking onto the desk.
A tiered display shelf above it held three framed group photos of varying sizes.
The first showed Xi Zhui with his parents—probably snapped around high school graduation.
The second captured Xi Zhui, Shen Zhaoye, and Xia Fengyi decked out in hiking gear, a souvenir from some mountain trek.
The third was the most familiar to Wen Chaosheng: their wrap-party shot from Contour.
Most surprising of all, perched beside the photos was a toy race car that seemed out of place for Xi Zhui’s age—clearly well-loved and aged.
“…”
Memories bubbled up from the recesses of his mind, sharp yet hazy.
Just as a flicker of uncertainty crossed Wen Chaosheng’s face, footsteps approached the door.
Freshly washed up, Xi Zhui stepped in. “What’re you looking at?”
Meeting his eyes from across the room, Wen Chaosheng pointed lightly. “This race car…”
Xi Zhui glanced over and owned up immediately. “The one you gave me when we were kids.”
Wen Chaosheng lit up with confirmation, though still surprised. “You’ve kept it all this time?”
Xi Zhui met his gaze, his words loaded. “Because I like it.”
Four simple words, pregnant with possibilities.
The car itself?
Children’s toys like that could be bought by the dozen—no real collector’s value.
Wen Chaosheng’s heartbeat stuttered out of rhythm. He parted his lips but held back, scared of blurting something weird.
Dodging Xi Zhui’s eyes, he jabbed a finger randomly at the staircase on the right. “That go up to an attic?”
Xi Zhui saw right through the deflection but humored him. “Yep. Turned it into a basic gym. Wanna check it out?”
“Too late for that.” Wen Chaosheng shook his head, pulling back his gaze. “I’ve always wanted an attic of my own.”
Xi Zhui prompted, “Like what?”
“Not huge—just big enough for my scripts, computer, and workbench.”
He’d thought it through in detail. “But a massive skylight is a must: sunlight streaming in by day, starry skies at night.”
That way, whenever writing scripts wore him out, he could glance up at the heavens, clouds, or stars.
Sadly, Wen Chaosheng couldn’t afford his own place yet.
The Wen family house had no attic for his little dream.
Xi Zhui’s eyes flashed faintly. “It’ll happen one day.”
Taking it as encouragement, Wen Chaosheng couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah. Once it’s done up, you’ll be my first guest for the housewarming.”
“…”
A guest? That wouldn’t cut it.
Xi Zhui smiled but let it drop, heading back to the bed. “Getting late. Lights out? Same setup as Gannan—me on the left, you on the right?”
“Okay.”
The realization that they’d be sharing a blanket—with the risk of accidental brushes of skin—sent a tidal wave of nerves crashing through Wen Chaosheng from deep inside.
He dove under the covers in a flash, pointedly averting his eyes to mask his jitters.
Xi Zhui caught the painfully obvious panic in his little maneuver and barely stifled a laugh. “Lights off?”
Wen Chaosheng offered only his profile. “Yeah.”
As Xi Zhui reached for the light switch, he spotted the heater controls out of the corner of his eye. His finger hovered, then nimbly dialed the temperature down a notch.
Click.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Moments later, Wen Chaosheng felt motion beside him and went rigid as a board, not daring to twitch.
Xi Zhui rolled toward him, zeroing in on his soft profile in the gloom. “You fall asleep like that, stiff as a board?”
Wen Chaosheng mumbled guiltily. “Sure.”
Xi Zhui nudged closer—still minding the space between them—and asked knowingly, “Been ages since we’ve seen each other. No bedtime chat?”
“I…”
Wen Chaosheng faltered.
Feeling the warmth inch nearer, torn between thrill and fluster, he sneaked a sidelong glance at Xi Zhui. “Just the movie stuff. Told you all about it on WeChat.”
They’d kept up a decent chat rhythm during their time apart—not constant, but enough to track each other’s lives.
Xi Zhui pressed anyway. “So only the movie? Nothing else on your plate?”
Wen Chaosheng didn’t catch his drift and turned to look. “Like what?”
Locking eyes with intent, Xi Zhui asked, “Like dating? Anyone you like?”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng hadn’t expected Xi Zhui to spring that question on him so suddenly. His breathing faltered for a beat, and it took a good long while before he shyly denied it. “No, I-I haven’t dated anyone.”
As for the second question, he deliberately glossed over it out of guilt.
The room’s heating had eased off a touch, and a subtle chill crept into the air unnoticed. Wen Chaosheng burrowed deeper under the covers, terrified that his embarrassing little secret might be laid bare before Xi Zhui.
But Xi Zhui’s gaze refused to let up, his questions growing bolder with each one. “Then, did you miss me?”
“…”
A flood of thoughts crashed through his mind.
Wen Chaosheng suddenly flashed back to a year and a half earlier, when Xi Zhui had looked at him in the teeming airport and said:
“Brother, I’ll miss you. You have to miss me too.”
Back then, he’d tossed and turned for over a week, utterly baffled as to why Xi Zhui had blurted that out and made such a request.
He’d even secretly Googled it, finally arriving at a somewhat reasonable conclusion:
It was probably because Xi Zhui had lived abroad for so long that he was more open about expressing emotions between friends.
“Wen Chaosheng.”
Xi Zhui’s full-name call snapped him out of his daze—it was glaringly obvious he’d zoned out. He reached out and patted Wen Chaosheng’s waist through the blanket.
“Turn around. Look at me.”
“…”
The pat landed lightly, but Wen Chaosheng still flinched with acute sensitivity.
He carefully regulated his breathing and obediently directed his gaze to Xi Zhui’s face, only to shyly dart his eyes away the instant they met. “Hm?”
“So.” Xi Zhui leaned in a fraction, relentlessly pressing. “Did you miss me?”
That rising inflection hooked right into Wen Chaosheng’s heart, swinging it back and forth.
He’d never been any good at lying, nor did he dare dwell on what his honest answer might unleash. All he could do was stammer it out in flustered sincerity. “Y-Yeah, a-a little… I did miss you.”
Even those few simple words came out halting and bumpy from his lips.
Xi Zhui let out a chuckle and drew even closer, their nose tips nearly brushing. “Only a little?”
The air thickened with unmistakable ambiguity.
Wen Chaosheng’s brain flatlined completely.
He blinked his lashes in rapid flutters, then whipped around to face away from Xi Zhui. “I’m sleepy. Time for bed. Goodnight!”
The faint warmth at his nose tip vanished before it could build.
Xi Zhui stared at the back of Wen Chaosheng’s fuzzy head, thinking with some regret: Looks like you can’t tease a turtle this much—push it too far, and it’ll bolt away very quickly.
He propped himself up slightly. “You really going to sleep?”
Wen Chaosheng stayed silent, playing deaf-and-dumb with expert finesse as he pretended to be asleep.
Xi Zhui eyed his ears, flushed red even in the dim light, a sparkle of amusement in his gaze. He leaned in close to whisper by his ear. “Goodnight. I missed you a little too…”
He mimicked Wen Chaosheng’s earlier words, but laced his tone with a teasing lilt. “Missed you.”
Maybe quite a lot more than just a little.
…
Wen Chaosheng had no idea when he’d finally drifted off, but that fluttering excitement and intimacy from before slipped straight into his dreams.
He dreamed of countless nights sharing a bed with Xi Zhui in Gannan, of the two of them galloping across the grasslands on a single horse, of Xi Zhui stroking the back of his neck and calling him Brother—even of a kiss.
Desire scattered everywhere in the dreamscape, and the heat passing between their bodies felt utterly real.
Morning light slipped through a gap in the curtains, landing right on Wen Chaosheng’s face by some mischievous coincidence.
It grew warm after a while, then hot.
Still half in his dreams, Wen Chaosheng wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. As always, he instinctively snuggled toward what felt like the safest source of warmth. But he quickly sensed something was off.
“…”
“…”
Almost in unison, both men on the bed opened their eyes.
The remnants of sleep still lingered in their gazes, swiftly overtaken by a wordless, delicate tension.
Wen Chaosheng hadn’t realized they’d fallen asleep wrapped around each other. His face flushed crimson as he stammered, “You… I…”
The room’s heat had been deliberately dialed down a notch the night before. In his sleep, Wen Chaosheng had naturally gravitated toward the nearest source of warmth.
Now, the oddness grew impossible to ignore. Wen Chaosheng shifted anxiously.
“Wen Chaosheng!”
Xi Zhui instinctively pinned him in place, burying his face against his shoulder. He drew in a deep, restrained breath. “Don’t move yet.”
The warm puff of breath lingered on his neck like an electric current, and Wen Chaosheng went rigid, not even daring to exhale.
After two or three seconds, Xi Zhui finally scooted back a little, his voice threaded with uncharacteristic restraint. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Wen Chaosheng mumbled a vague acknowledgment, his whole body slick with sweat.
He watched as Xi Zhui slid out of bed, slipped on his slippers, and headed out the door without a word—down the stairs without so much as a backward glance. Only then did Wen Chaosheng bolt upright and fling back the covers.
The heat trapped in the bedding all night billowed out.
Wen Chaosheng glanced down at his body’s slight but insistent reaction, then recalled that unspoken point of contact with Xi Zhui moments ago—
One second. Two seconds. Three.
Realization hit, and he yanked the blanket back over himself, hiding from head to toe like a proper turtle in its shell.
“Wah.”
How did things end up like this?
He was mortified—couldn’t face anyone now.
![My Husband is a Drama King [Book Transmigration]](https://i1.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/transmi.jpeg?resize=151,215 "My Husband is a Drama King [Book Transmigration]")
