Chapter 23 Part 3

For the first time, Chen Gu felt he had absolutely zero patience. He’d only just cast the net and was already itching frantically to know when he could finally haul Jiang Mian up entirely.

Because now, he couldn’t suppress the urge to kiss those overly clean eyes anymore.

The process of treating the wounds was excessively silent.

Jiang Mian focused single-mindedly on the task, not noticing his proximity to Chen Gu. If Chen Gu wanted to, with just a slight shift of his leg, a change of posture, Jiang Mian could be completely encircled in his arms.

One could only be thankful Chen Gu still had the last shred of human decency, not finding an excuse to do such a thing.

But while Jiang Mian’s mind was pure, Chen Gu’s was utterly crooked.

His gaze swept over Jiang Mian’s nape, his ear, including that faint mole behind his right ear, again and again. As for what he was thinking—only he himself knew.

After treating the wounds, Jiang Mian meticulously and seriously warned Chen Gu. “It’s done. The wounds aren’t deep. They’ll probably scab over tonight. But you absolutely must not scratch them.”

His speech was always slower than average. “Human nails carry a lot of bacteria. If it gets infected, it’ll be serious.”

Chen Gu didn’t speak immediately for some reason. It was only when Jiang Mian looked up at him, puzzled, that he spoke slowly. “Then, what if it itches?”

Jiang Mian said slowly, “If it’s the wound, endure it.”

Chen Gu raised an eyebrow. These words left him far too many loopholes to exploit. “And what if it’s something else?”

The search results didn’t say Touch Starvation caused one to scratch oneself, but it also said symptoms varied from person to person. Jiang Mian figured Chen Gu scratched himself because psychologically he felt “itchy” and uncomfortable.

He was silent for a moment, eventually saying, “Endure it.”

Jiang Mian paused. Chen Gu chuckled softly and sighed, not yet voicing the regretful “Alright, I understand,” when Jiang Mian added slowly, “Then call me. If I’m free, I’ll come. Sometimes I might not see messages.”

Chen Gu paused, slightly surprised again.

Jiang Mian’s heart, was it this soft?

Though he got the answer he wanted, Chen Gu felt a somewhat indescribable gloom.

Because he thought of how others could also so easily get Jiang Mian to agree to intimate things—even if it hadn’t happened, just the thought that it could made the restlessness and gloom in Chen Gu’s heart expand infinitely.

But he didn’t say anything, just asked, “Stay for dinner? It’s getting late.”

Jiang Mian checked the time and didn’t refuse. He was indeed hungry. “Order takeout?”

Chen Gu: “I’ll cook.”

Jiang Mian looked a little surprised. “You can cook?”

“? Is that so strange?”

“No.”

It was just that Chen Gu’s hands didn’t seem made for such tasks.

They seemed more like art pieces meant for display in a window.

Chen Gu didn’t press him further. “What do you want to eat?”

“We can order dishes?” Jiang Mian was genuinely delighted.

Chen Gu raised an eyebrow, smiling lazily. “Don’t judge by appearances. I’ve been living on my own since very young. Can’t starve myself to death, right?”

Jiang Mian paused, instinctively avoiding the topic of family. “Then, cola chicken wings, okay?”

Chen Gu deliberately paused, then sighed. “Great choice.”

“You don’t know how?”

“No, it’s that I don’t have cola or chicken wings at home.”

Chen Gu pulled out his phone and opened the delivery app, going straight to a fresh grocery market. “Anything else you want to eat?”

Jiang Mian was someone deeply unaccustomed to troubling others. So he said slowly, “How about… forget it? Just make whatever you have at home. I’m not very picky.”

Chen Gu didn’t exit the app. He typed “chicken wings” in pinyin with one hand. “I don’t have a dish called ‘forget it’ here.”

His voice held a smile. Jiang Mian knew he was joking but couldn’t think of a comeback.

Jiang Mian really wasn’t good at bantering.

Maybe today’s atmosphere was just too strange.

Jiang Mian thought.

Otherwise, why would he have the impulse to ask Chen Gu, “Why?”

Because he liked him? So he was good to him?

Immediately after speaking, Jiang Mian regretted it a little. But Chen Gu had no particular reaction. He said casually, “Because you said you wanted some.”

Jiang Mian was inexplicably struck.

His heart suddenly softened. An indescribable emotion spread, making his language system mostly dominated by instinct, his rationality offline.

Jiang Mian said slowly, “Next time is fine too.”

Chen Gu raised an eyebrow.

He looked at Jiang Mian, in a very good mood. “While I’m very happy you’ve decided next time you’d also come to my place for dinner, wanting cola chicken wings this time is this time’s thing. What if next time you don’t feel like them? Wouldn’t you miss out?”

Chen Gu made perfect sense.

But this was the first time anyone had said something like this to Jiang Mian.

Jiang Liaoyi loved him deeply, but he was too busy.

When Jiang Mian was little, he would say he wanted to eat M’s. There was no delivery back then. And because the answer was always “next time,” after so many “next times,” he just stopped liking those things.

Chen Gu… was actually very good too.

“Jiang Mian?”

“Mm.”

Jiang Mian came back slightly. His tone even lightened a bit. “Also want tomato scrambled eggs.”

Chen Gu nodded, adding tomatoes. “Anything else?”

Jiang Mian was just about to say that was enough, they wouldn’t finish it all, then remembered Chen Gu’s appetite and held back another name: “Sweet and sour spare ribs.”

Finally, they settled on a seaweed soup. Chen Gu put away his phone. “Oh, right, do you have any dietary restrictions or allergies?”

Chen Gu asked casually, as if the topic just happened to come up.

Jiang Mian answered too. “I don’t eat sesame, unprocessed beans. That’s it.”

He paused. “Allergies… none with food.”

Chen Gu tilted his head. “So, lifestyle allergies then?”

Chen Yishen hadn’t told him these things. If he went to ask Chen Yishen, it would be too deliberate.

Even a fool like Chen Yishen would notice something then.

“Mm.” Jiang Mian hesitated, then said, “I’m allergic to rainwater.”

“But not too severe. Getting caught in a little is fine. But if soaked from head to toe, it hurts a lot and causes redness and swelling.”

Chen Gu had seen all kinds of allergies but hearing ‘rainwater allergy’ for the first time was really surprising. So he said, “Okay, I’ll remember.”

After the groceries arrived, Chen Gu finally let go of Jiang Mian’s wrist.

He released very naturally and said nothing. When the tension and warmth Jiang Mian had grown accustomed to withdrew, Jiang Mian actually paused.

He looked down at the lingering red marks on his wrist and suddenly had a suspicion.

Was Chen Gu’s Touch Starvation really that severe?

If Chen Gu, who actually did feel uncomfortable the moment he let go but decisively pulled away because he noticed Jiang Mian was hungry, knew what Jiang Mian was thinking, he’d definitely sigh, lamenting how low his credibility with Jiang Mian truly was.

——

Jiang Mian felt it wasn’t good to just sit and wait, but when he tried to enter the kitchen, he hadn’t even stepped inside before Chen Gu shooed him out. “You know how to cook?”

Jiang Mian answered honestly. “No.”

“Then just sit and wait for dinner. Don’t get covered in cooking smells.”

“I’m not a clean freak.”

“I am.”

“?”

Jiang Mian looked at him, bewildered, genuinely not understanding.

What did Chen Gu being a clean freak have to do with him getting covered in cooking smells?

Didn’t that just mean Chen Gu couldn’t go into the kitchen?

Chen Gu twirled the small knife he was using to score the meat. The blade practically spun right against his fingertips, yet he didn’t blink. He didn’t even glance at the sharp instrument that could slice his flesh right off.

He looked at Jiang Mian, obediently stopped at the doorway by his command, and felt he’d be driven to be less than human by Jiang Mian sooner or later.

He was a clean freak—specifically regarding Jiang Mian.

He didn’t want any other scent to cling to Jiang Mian.

In the end, Jiang Mian went back to the sofa, sat down, and watched Bar Exam videos.

Mainly, he truly couldn’t cook. If he entered the kitchen, he was the type who couldn’t distinguish salt from sugar.

To be even more accurate, a kitchen klutz might at least know how to turn on the stove and blow the kitchen up. Jiang Mian, going in, would first need to search how to light the stove.

Though Jiang Mian’s contribution to this meal was zero, he ate a lot.

Compared to Chen Gu, it was indeed far behind. But compared to his usual self, it was doubled, even more.

And when Chen Gu asked how it tasted, Jiang Mian also gave affirmation. “Very delicious.”

He said seriously, “Better than restaurants outside.”

He felt his words were too plain, unable to express his appreciation for the meal. But he was truly bad at embellishment, didn’t even know how to use hyperbole.

So Jiang Mian could only add two more earnest words. “Really.”

Chen Gu laughed despite himself. “Alright, I got it.”

He said casually, “If you like it, come over often, Sir Jiang.”

Jiang Mian moved his lips but ultimately didn’t respond to that. He just held the bowl and drank soup.

Seeing him retreat back into his shell, Chen Gu wasn’t in a hurry.

Getting closer to someone needed moderation. Being too aggressive all at once would only scare them away.

Since Chen Gu had no further issues, Jiang Mian didn’t stay too long either.

After all, the Bar Exam was in about half a month. He wasn’t completely free. He still needed to study when he got back.

Only before leaving, standing at the entrance with his back to the door, Jiang Mian hesitated, then said again, “If something’s up, call me.”

He added, “We are friends.”

Chen Gu nodded. “Mm.”

He thought Jiang Mian was about to say goodbye. But Jiang Mian still didn’t move, just kept his head down, as if still wrestling with something.

And amidst that hesitation, a subtle, peculiar emotion surfaced from him.

Sometimes, Jiang Mian was also hard to read.

Chen Gu had no intention of guessing either. People had mouths, one function was to speak. “What’s wrong?”

Jiang Mian pursed his lips slightly. He deliberated for a long time before finally uttering what he thought was a circumspect statement. “Sometimes I might not be free. You could also find Chen Yishen. He’s your brother. He’d be happy to help you. Or go to the hospital. There’s a famous psychiatric hospital in the South Boundary. I think maybe they have dedicated staff who could have contact with you…”

“Jiang Mian.”

Chen Gu cut him off. His voice was no longer so gentle and lazy, nor carried that previous pitiable feel. Instead, it was faintly cool, tinged with coldness. “In your eyes, am I the kind of person who, whenever someone reaches out, will immediately hold onto them and hug them?”

Jiang Mian choked.

Chen Gu’s tone was flat. “I’m not a dog in heat all the time.”

His voice was truly very nice. When he spoke like that, it carried a dense pressure. And these words, carrying a slight provocative edge, made Jiang Mian’s breath unconsciously catch for a beat.

Seeing Jiang Mian didn’t speak, Chen Gu sighed softly, his voice softening. “I really dislike physical contact with others. Except for you, being touched by anyone else makes me feel…”

He initially wanted to say, “want to break the other person’s hand,” but then thought of Jiang Mian’s profession and swallowed the harsh words raw, changing it to: “…makes me feel revolted and nauseous.”

“Even the Chen Yishen you mentioned, my own brother, included.”

“The doctor said it’s because I psychologically resist and don’t accept them. That kind of physical contact actually deepens my psychological barriers.”

Jiang Mian looked up amidst these words, meeting exactly the gaze Chen Gu was lowering toward him.

He froze in those focused and persistent eyes, only hearing Chen Gu say—

“Only you.”

Jiang Mian, you are the only one.

The only one he accepted.