Chapter 23 Part 1

As the saying went, Yu Wenzhe, at twenty-eight years of age, had really had awful luck in romance. He’d never even had a proper relationship, let alone any kind of love triangle drama.

Let alone this high-level situation of being suspected as the male third party.

Uh, generally speaking, in such a moment, how does one prove their innocence?

Completely inexperienced, slightly flustered.

But beside him, the young man with dating experience was different. Han Fu’s tie fluttered as he decisively took two steps forward, grabbed the person by the wall, and hoisted him up by the waist.

That silhouette, that strength, to be honest, carried quite a bit of dominance.

The motion of lifting a full-grown man in one go was even cooler—pure boyfriend power to the max.

“It’s fine,” Han Fu turned back to him, “Old Yu, you head home first today. I’ll lock up later.”

“?” Yu Wenzhe pointed at himself.

Really? I can leave first? Are you sure?

I don’t need to explain anything to your man?

Well… of course, not having to explain was even better! He immediately hugged his little backpack and ran to the end of the corridor in a rush, then, a little worried, secretly glanced back.

Oh my god.

Han Fu had already carried the person into the library.

The library door was large, and the light inside was much brighter than outside, so he could clearly see him place the person on the perfumer’s workstation table, which had just been wiped down five times and was super clean and gleaming.

…

To be honest, Yu Wenzhe had always thought Han Fu’s boyfriend was quite handsome.

He’d thought that from the first meeting—a typical aloof elite look, and with a super rare heterochromia. The lighter eye always reminded him of the gray glass bottle of that old domestic perfume brand’s “Light Smoke at Dusk.”

Unfortunately, he was too serious and didn’t like to smile. But people with that kind of face never do.

Now, that boyfriend was sitting on the table, slightly hunched, head lowered, long legs dangling. His refined suit, nearly perfect figure aside from a slightly thin waist, even just his profile carried an inexplicable depth, aloofness, and a heavy sense of history.

…Speaking of charisma, ordinary people just couldn’t learn it.

Only two years apart, yet the boyfriend’s style was something a tech noob like him, still wearing sweatshirts and jeans, could never hope to reach at that age.

And the daily manner of that mature-type man was probably even more unattainable.

Having been caught crying in an undignified state and scooped up by the waist, he immediately managed to compose himself, face expressionless, not struggling unnecessarily. As they brushed past, he maintained a cold front, not saying a word, not even glancing his way.

He even freed a hand and used those slender fingertips to slightly adjust his askew collar.

…

Elegant, truly elegant, and handsome, truly handsome.

Yu Wenzhe, after all, had no experience and could only rely on normal logic—dating a man like that, wouldn’t it make you feel completely insecure?

The faster someone reined in their emotions, the more it suggested they’d been through countless storms and were nearly impossible to move. Without real skill, it would be hard to handle them.

However, as it turned out, Han Fu not only had high natural talent in perfumery but was also extremely bold and daring in matters of the heart.

After placing the person on the table, he moved right up against the front of it, wedging himself between the man’s legs, leaving him absolutely no way to escape. Under the warm light, he seemed to smile. His body language looked just like a little pet earnestly acting cute, rolling around, and coquettishly pleasing its owner on the table.

Without anyone hearing what he said, he naturally wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. The other party struggled a bit at first, but seeing that it was futile, soon gave up.

Then, Han Fu hooked his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and kissed him very gently.

Light as a dragonfly skimming water, over and over again.

…

That day, his friend Gu Jingxing had said: “Old Yu, you’re all naive and sweet. Now you’ve finally found a genius little newbie who looks even more naive and sweet than you. From now on, you two can rent out our school’s silly-sweet duet!”

Yu Wenzhe had thought that was nice too, but now, what naive and sweet?

Han Fu was only sweet, not naive at all. How could a naive and sweet person successfully sidestep the “Let me explain!” “I’m not listening!” drama and soothe that type of boyfriend in minutes without any pressure!

If the male lead had been him, he’d probably have been instantly misunderstood, dumped, and blocked in one go.

He slightly averted his eyes—no need to spy on other people’s intimate moments. Before leaving, he secretly glanced back one last time. Yep, they were still kissing all sweetly and clingily.

Still in that standard sitting posture, still with that European-style grand library backdrop. Other people’s love, other people’s partner.

Ah, time to scram, quickly!

A slaughterhouse scene, totally devoid of humanity.

Pei Zhen slept very deeply that night.

His hand rested beside the pillow, and Han Fu’s fingertips gently held it.

The little wolfdog had been too busy lately to cut his hair, and it had grown quite a bit. The pure black strands were soft, and his even, gentle breath brushed over his hand again and again.

Actually, figuring out whether someone cares about you isn’t hard at all.

As long as you aren’t caught in a cycle of self-deception, you can easily get the answer from the way they look at you, the care in their words, the weight of their steps, even the strength of their embrace.

If they care, they’ll always be mindful of your feelings.

Even if you occasionally act awkward, climb walls, or overthink, they won’t hold it against you. They’ll only feel distressed and reflect on what they did wrong.

They’ll hold you, coax you, and eat up every last one of those half-cold buns.

…

It couldn’t be just a monetary relationship.

No matter how foolish, how gloomy, he was still a middle-aged man—he had to have basic judgment.

So, before falling asleep, snuggled in the soft and peaceful drowsiness of the blankets, Pei Zhen had unilaterally concluded that the little wolfdog probably liked him, at least a little. As for how much… there was no need to dig deeper.

It had already reached the point of not minding salary deductions and even wanting to spend his own money on a gift. For a male escort, didn’t that mean… he liked him a lot?

So, was their sugar daddy arrangement really turning into true love?

Fuzzy-headed with such drowsy thoughts, the corner of his mouth secretly curled up as he fell asleep.

Even his dreams were sweet.

The bustling city transformed into a world inside a glass bottle filled with starlight.

From streetlights to roadside mailboxes and telephone booths—all were exquisitely designed glass perfume bottles of every variety.

And in his hand, at some point, he was also holding a bottle, but inside wasn’t rich perfume. Reflecting the moonlight, he leaned in and saw a tiny living person pressed against the glass wall.

It was a completely Westernized version, a miniature version of the little wolfdog with golden hair holding a rose, inside with closed eyes and puffed cheeks, like a fish blowing bubbles, waiting for a kiss.

…Cute.

So cute there was nothing to be done.

…

The next morning, sunlight flooded the bed. Han Fu was still fast asleep, rarely so. Probably exhausted from yesterday—after all that kissing, he’d stayed in the library to finish organizing the perfume bottles. Even the gentle alarm vibration by his pillow hadn’t woken him.

His breathing was even, his long lashes fluttering slightly. Every time Pei Zhen looked at him closely, he’d think, how did this young man grow to be so good-looking? Every inch of skin, every mole, was flawlessly perfect.

He’d sneak peeks at him like this often. Only today, he stared at him in a daze for longer than usual.

For the first time, he felt a sense of “looking at something that belongs to me” and “thinking that my own thing is truly awesome.”

Originally, he’d long stopped believing in the existence of “miracles.”

In those past years, life had twisted and overturned like a roller coaster. Cruel reality, when slapping someone awake, would use that “smack smack” sound to clearly tell the dreamer: you aren’t the “heaven’s chosen child” you thought you were, you don’t have a protagonist halo, and you won’t be the “lucky” character in any story.

He’d once been in despair. But humans… sure enough, they always remember the sweet and forget the pain.

Step by step, through effort, he’d climbed back up. The OEM factory was running, the little wolfdog had been raised. And then the wound healed and the scar forgotten, and he’d started getting full of himself again. No matter how many times he told himself to stay calm and indifferent, he couldn’t suppress the rising sweet feeling in his heart.

Admiring the sleeping little wolfdog, he began to believe again that his life had a bit of luck in it, a jackpot-winning explosive fortune.

Suddenly, the little wolfdog woke up.

He bolted upright like a carp leaping, looked at the clock: “Ahh! How is it 7:30 already? Why didn’t my phone go off!”

As he flung off the blanket, flipped out of bed in one smooth, vigorous motion, Pei Zhen kindly reached out and tugged his shirt corner: “Don’t rush, you forgot? It’s the weekend, no class, you’re not late.”

The little wolfdog turned back to look at him.

His eyes were pitch black, and instantly Pei Zhen recalled the starry reflection in yesterday’s dream, and being carried in a daze, somehow sitting on the table, then the gentle kisses again and again.

His heart suddenly burned.

A thirty-year-old man who thought his heart was as hard as stone, on such a morning, was suddenly filled with tenderness. Truly… a rare occurrence.