Chapter 46
Jing Ciying knew Pei Songji’s feelings for him, so he had assumed he would be overjoyed by his suggestion.
But Pei Songji didn’t respond, just stared at him, his expression unreadable.
Jing Ciying, his courage fading, hid under the covers, pretending he had been talking in his sleep.
But Pei Songji pulled the covers back, forcing him to face him.
“You… like me?” Pei Songji finally asked, his voice filled with disbelief and a cautious hope.
Jing Ciying’s heart softened, his earlier annoyance dissolving. He understood Pei Songji’s insecurity. “If I didn’t, why would I suggest this?”
But Pei Songji still stared at him, his grip tightening on his wrist.
“You really… like me?”
Jing Ciying knew his past behavior had made him seem indifferent, even hostile, so he said firmly, “Yes, I like you.”
Pei Songji released his grip, a strange smile twisting his lips, not a smile of happiness, but of… self-mockery.
Jing Ciying felt a sudden unease.
“I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want to… smother you, make you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to be distant. I would never leave you. You don’t have to do this to keep me around. Are you sure this is what you want? Are you sure it’s not just… pity, or a sense of obligation? Or maybe you’re just used to my presence, and now that I’m not constantly around, you feel… lost. But that’s not love. What I mean is…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Jing Ciying leaned forward and kissed him.
Pei Songji’s carefully constructed composure shattered. He instinctively kissed him back, his mind blank, his body taking over.
It felt like a dream, too good to be true.
He couldn’t distinguish reality from fantasy.
He deepened the kiss, lost in the moment.
They finally separated, breathless.
Although the room was dark, he could still see the flush on Jing Ciying’s cheeks, the glistening moisture in his eyes.
“Do you believe me now?” Jing Ciying asked, his voice soft.
Pei Songji finally emerged from his stunned silence, his thumb gently tracing Jing Ciying’s lips, his gaze darkening. “I believe you.”
His fingers moved from his lips to his ear, gently caressing the soft skin.
His touch was warm, sending shivers down Jing Ciying’s spine.
He was grateful for the darkness, hiding his blush.
Despite the winter chill outside, the room felt warm, the air thick with unspoken intimacy.
Pei Songji’s hand moved lower, to his neck.
Jing Ciying didn’t move, just looked away shyly.
He didn’t mind Pei Songji’s touch, even anticipating what might come next.
Was this too fast? he wondered.
But he didn’t pull away.
But Pei Songji didn’t continue. He just gently stroked his neck, then pulled him closer, into a warm embrace.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered.
“What?” Jing Ciying was surprised. Things hadn’t gone as he had expected. He looked up at Pei Songji, who kissed his forehead gently.
“It’s late. Go to sleep.”
Jing Ciying wanted to say something, but he stopped himself.
He didn’t want to seem too eager. He wasn’t. Pei Songji’s actions had just been… misleading.
Yes, it was all Pei Songji’s fault.
Although they were under separate blankets, Pei Songji’s body heat made him restless.
Pei Songji, sensing he was still awake, asked, “Can’t sleep?”
“No,” he admitted. Having someone else in his bed was distracting. Fearing a lecture, he asked, “Why aren’t you asleep either?”
Pei Songji was silent for a moment. “I’m thinking about… what just happened.”
“What just happened?” Jing Ciying’s mind flashed to the kiss, his face burning.
Pei Songji held him tighter, his voice a low murmur in his ear. “Can you say it again? That you like me?”
Jing Ciying’s blush deepened. He had misinterpreted Pei Songji’s words again.
Thankfully, it was dark, so Pei Songji couldn’t see his embarrassment.
“I like you,” he whispered, then repeated himself, louder this time, “I like you.”
Pei Songji’s body stiffened slightly, then he held him even tighter, not responding.
“What about you?” Jing Ciying asked.
Pei Songji didn’t answer, just stroked his hair gently, changing the subject. “It’s past 11:00. Go to sleep.”
Jing Ciying wasn’t disappointed. Pei Songji’s actions spoke louder than words. He didn’t need a verbal confirmation. He closed his eyes.
Although he wasn’t sleepy, he eventually drifted off.
Just before he lost consciousness, he heard a soft whisper in his ear.
“I love you.”
He wanted to open his eyes, to confirm he hadn’t imagined it, but he was too tired.
He woke up to daylight, the space beside him empty.
Pei Songji was gone.
If not for the warmth of the blankets, he would have thought it was all a dream.
But it wasn’t. He got out of bed and saw Pei Songji in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
He was wearing Jing Ciying’s pajamas, which were too small for him, the sleeves too short, the pants revealing his ankles.
Pei Songji, accustomed to tailored clothes, had probably never worn anything so ill-fitting.
“I’m sorry,” Jing Ciying said, chuckling, unable to contain his amusement. “I forgot you’re taller than me. My pajamas don’t fit you.”
Pei Songji turned around, a smile spreading across his face, seeing Jing Ciying’s amusement.
“It’s fine,” he said. “They’ll be bringing my things over later. I can wear my own pajamas tonight.”
“Things? What things?”
“My usual belongings. And my clothes.”
“Your clothes?” Jing Ciying finally understood. “Are you planning to… live here?”
“Yes,” Pei Songji said calmly, placing the breakfast dishes on the table. “Is that a problem?”
“Not exactly,” Jing Ciying said, surprised by the sudden announcement. But how could Pei Songji possibly live here?
His apartment was tiny, smaller than Pei Songji’s living room. He hesitated.
“But I only have two bedrooms, and one of them is my sister’s…”
Pei Songji tapped his head lightly. “We’ll share your room, obviously.”
“Share my room?”
“Is that a problem?” Pei Songji asked, his voice teasing. “Boyfriend.”
Jing Ciying blushed. “No, but… don’t you think this place is… too small for you?”
“Small?” Pei Songji gestured for him to sit down and eat. “It has a living room, a balcony, a bedroom. Enough for two people. And besides…”
“Besides what?”
“Besides, you said I could take care of you. This will make it much more convenient.”
Jing Ciying couldn’t argue with that. “Fine. Stay if you want.”
He started eating, recognizing the familiar taste. “Did Aunt bring this?”
“Yes. I told her to go home after delivering the food.”
“Why? She usually stays all day.”
“It wouldn’t be… appropriate,” Pei Songji said.
“Appropriate? Why not?”
Pei Songji stood up, leaned across the table, and kissed him, then sat back down as if nothing had happened.
“Inappropriate,” he said with a smirk.
Jing Ciying: “…”
He was being improper.
Pei Songji stayed home that day, waiting for his belongings to arrive.
They were so numerous they barely fit in the apartment.
They had to install another wardrobe in the living room just for his clothes.
The small apartment felt even smaller now, and Jing Ciying worried Pei Songji wouldn’t be comfortable, but Pei Songji seemed to enjoy it, meticulously placing his belongings beside Jing Ciying’s, claiming his space.
His actions only intensified Jing Ciying’s guilt, and he resolved to find a bigger apartment once his game was finished and he had some money left over.
A three-bedroom apartment: one for him and Pei Songji, one for his sister’s belongings, and one for Happy.
The thought motivated him, and he returned to his game design.
He couldn’t hide it from Pei Songji now, so he explained his project.
“There’s a reason I’ve been staying up late.”
“What reason?” Pei Songji asked immediately.
“I’m designing a game. I’m working on the story.”
“A game?” Pei Songji seemed intrigued.
“Yes. A game about… family.” He paused.
“The initial setting is a family of four: parents, an older sister, and a younger brother. The player can choose to play as either sibling. They face various challenges: illness, accidents… and their goal is to overcome these challenges, earn money, and achieve a happy ending.”
Pei Songji instantly understood the inspiration behind the story, his heart aching for Jing Ciying.
He knew creating this game would be painful, forcing him to relive his own trauma, but it was also a necessary step towards healing. “It’s a wonderful idea. Do it. I’ll support you. But…”
“But what?”
“No more staying up late.”
“I won’t,” Jing Ciying promised. “Besides, you’re sleeping here now. How can I stay up late?”
“That’s true,” Pei Songji agreed.
But he broke his promise that very night.
He had gone to bed at 10:00 pm, as promised, but somehow, he ended up in Pei Songji’s arms, and then…
After countless kisses, Pei Songji suddenly said, “Since you’re my boyfriend now, can I have a… special nickname for you?”
“A special nickname?” Jing Ciying asked, confused.
“I don’t want to call you by your name, like everyone else. Do you have a nickname?”
“My family calls me Xiaoying.”
“Xiaoying?” Pei Songji considered it, then shook his head. “It sounds too… formal. I want something more intimate.”
Jing Ciying thought Xiaoying was already quite intimate. Before he could suggest anything, Pei Songji whispered in his ear, “Yingying? A-Ying? Which one do you like?”
Jing Ciying cringed, wanting to hide his face, but Pei Songji was holding his hand. “No,” he protested. “Just call me Secretary Jing.”
Pei Songji chuckled. “That won’t do. We’re not at work. Unless… you’re into that kind of thing?”
He nibbled on Jing Ciying’s lower lip.
“Hmm? Secretary Jing?”
