Chapter 5
When Xie Zhang woke up, the tablet on the bed was dead, and the previously lively shadow lay quietly beside him, perfectly normal.
He had slept so long, so deeply, and so soundly that he felt disoriented.
Sitting up in bed, he stared blankly at his shadow, reaching out to touch the still form on the duvet.
The shadow didn’t move.
As if everything had been a dream.
A dream that vanished upon waking.
Xie Zhang picked up the dead tablet, frowning in thought.
Had he… charged the tablet at all?
Confused, bizarre, wondrous, normal—countless memories intertwined in his mind, causing a dull ache.
He got out of bed and walked barefoot into the bathroom.
Every little object in the bathroom brought back memories of Song Jingmo, the longing twisting his heart.
Song Jingmo, nestled within Xie Zhang’s shadow, had been dozing when he was suddenly jolted awake by the burning sensation. He opened his eyes to the spray of the shower and the steam-filled bathroom.
And…
“Siiiigh.”
Song Jingmo suppressed the urge to whistle, his shadow tip symbolically covering his eyes, then parting to create a large gap, positioning himself on a strategically advantageous tile to admire the captivating male form before him.
Xie Zhang was nearly 1.9 meters tall, and from this low angle, his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and…
One, two, three… seven—huh?
Song-shadow sat up, staring at Xie Zhang’s abs.
Where was his beloved eight-pack?!
Why was the line between the seventh and eighth ab so faint?!
Xie Zhang’s physique wasn’t overly muscular, but his chest, abs, arms, and thighs all rippled with defined muscles when flexed. He had everything he should have.
Song Jingmo adored Xie Zhang’s abs, every night snuggling his hand into Xie Zhang’s pajamas, falling asleep against his stomach.
But now, his beloved eight-pack had somehow shrunk to a six-pack.
Song Jingmo panicked, his shadow tip bristling.
Damn it, he couldn’t touch Xie Zhang!
Honestly, he hadn’t been this frustrated even when he couldn’t touch Xie Zhang’s face before.
Song-shadow looked around, an idea striking him. He grabbed a familiar small towel, hooked it onto his shadow tip, and slapped it against Xie Zhang’s stomach.
Rub-a-dub-dub.
As he rubbed, he leaned closer, scrutinizing Xie Zhang’s abs, trying to confirm that the abdominal shrinkage wasn’t a misjudgment.
He was so focused on his rubbing that he didn’t notice when the shower stopped.
Xie Zhang’s hand rested on the faucet, his wet hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks. Water droplets trickled down his chest, following the contours of his muscles to his stomach, where they were immediately absorbed by the towel held by Song-shadow.
He closed his eyes, pushing his hair back, his brow prominent, his nose straight.
After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again, staring silently at the towel that had rubbed a red patch onto his stomach.
Finally realizing the water had stopped, Song Jingmo looked up mechanically, meeting Xie Zhang’s downcast gaze.
But the eye contact was only from Song Jingmo’s perspective.
From Xie Zhang’s point of view, he only saw an inky black blob… molesting him.
Today’s hallucination was a bit much.
Xie Zhang thought.
Momo wasn’t the most peaceful sleeper, but it was just because he was always cold. How could he have misinterpreted it like this…?
Xie Zhang frowned, turned the shower back on, and quickened his pace.
Song-shadow, caught off guard, was drenched.
Song Jingmo instinctively closed his eyes, but quickly realized his mistake.
He was a shadow; he wasn’t afraid of water!
He opened his eyes, a mischievous glint in them. The 18+ manga and novels he’d read began playing out in his mind, one after another.
He was a shadow, so he wasn’t afraid of pain, and he certainly wasn’t afraid of teasing Xie Zhang.
If he didn’t act now, he might not get another chance!
With newfound courage, Song-shadow, his shadow tip still holding the small towel, moved downwards from Xie Zhang’s abs.
Xie Zhang froze mid-wash.
Looking down again, he saw an inky black shadow tip, holding Song Jingmo’s face towel… there.
Xie Zhang: “…”
The towel gradually tented upwards.
Xie Zhang: “…”
Song Jingmo hissed, realizing how resilient he had been in the past, truly praiseworthy.
So big!
How could anyone be so gifted as to take it all?
It was perfectly understandable that he’d cried.
It was perfectly understandable that he hadn’t always taken it all.
It definitely wasn’t because he, Song Jingmo, was being delicate!
Xie Zhang, his face expressionless, grabbed a bath towel and wrapped it tightly around his waist, trapping the now-questionable face towel within its folds.
His lips pressed into a thin line, his mind in turmoil, disgusted and ashamed of his own desires.
How could he use Momo’s towel…?
Song-shadow slid out from under the bath towel, disappointed.
He followed Xie Zhang to the doorway, noticing that Xie Zhang hadn’t moved.
Song Jingmo turned, puzzled.
He saw Xie Zhang’s face, wrapped in a towel, flush with a mixture of emotions, then, as if making up his mind, he slowly pulled out the small towel from under the bath towel.
Clutching the small towel, Xie Zhang walked stiffly to the sink and began scrubbing it vigorously.
Song Jingmo finally realized that the towel he had so casually grabbed was his face towel.
Realizing what he had done, Song-shadow flushed crimson.
Unfortunately, as a shadow, the blush wasn’t visible.
The water rushed.
Xie Zhang scrubbed the small towel fiercely.
Song Jingmo curled up in shame.
His bold move had resulted in the defilement of his remaining earthly innocence.
Xie Zhang couldn’t distinguish between hallucination and reality.
But whether it was entirely a hallucination or a subconscious action, Momo’s towel still needed… washing.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to look at that towel hanging in the bathroom again.
A few minutes later, Xie Zhang hung the freshly laundered towel back on the rack and walked out of the bathroom, still wrapped in his bath towel.
Song-shadow followed him obediently.
As Xie Zhang walked into the dressing room to change, he paused.
He suddenly felt… strangely self-conscious.
As if he was being watched.
He’d only felt this way when he first started dating Momo.
Lost in memories of Song Jingmo, his eyes lowered, the warmth from the shower faded into loneliness.
Song-shadow, trapped under the discarded bath towel, peeked out with a tendril.
Whoa… damn!
From this angle, it was even more… impressive!
He couldn’t look, he couldn’t look.
Song-shadow quickly retreated under the towel, creating a noticeable bulge.
Then he was jolted by a sudden wave of heat.
Song Jingmo: “.”
Ah, so lewd!
The inky black shadow hid its blush, curling up tighter.
Xie Zhang dressed efficiently, without Song Jingmo’s usual indecision—after all, without Song Jingmo’s influence, his wardrobe consisted solely of black and dark blue.
Song Jingmo followed the now-dressed Xie Zhang to the study, watching as he sat down at his desk without drawing the curtains, starting to work through the backlog.
Song Jingmo: “?”
Was he evolving into a vampire?
His hair was still wet!
Not only was he not drying it, he wasn’t even opening the curtains to let in some sunlight?
Where was the meticulous, health-conscious, nagging Xie Zhang, the one who always reminded him to dry his hair?
Well, he’d take charge then!
Song Jingmo stormed towards the window, ignoring the fact that he was now stretched into a glitching, jagged line.
Xie Zhang, who had been partially focused on his shadow, paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He looked towards the floor-to-ceiling window.
The heavy curtains were abruptly drawn open, the morning sunlight flooding the room, dispelling the oppressive darkness.
Xie Zhang stared at the shadow by the window.
The world outside was bathed in a golden light. The shadow by the window wriggled, as if in thought, then molded itself into the shape of a cat’s head, its pointed ears edged with a warm, gentle glow in the sunlight.
Almost tangible.
Full of life.
Xie Zhang thought he heard Song Jingmo’s laughter, faint and distant, yet incredibly real.
“Meow~”
