Xie Ling’s eyes widened as the spot where Qin Han had kissed his hand began to burn with a fiery heat.
The warmth raced from the back of his hand to his ears and cheeks, surging through every limb and vein.
Only when a chilly gust of wind swept by did Xie Ling snap back to his senses. He glanced at Qin Han, who was still kneeling on the ground, and whispered, “Are you cold? Get up already.”
Qin Han paused for a moment, a wave of warmth blooming in his chest. He chuckled softly. “Aren’t you going to tell me to let go of your hand first?”
Only then did Xie Ling realize Qin Han was still holding his hand. He cleared his throat and said solemnly, “Stand up first, then let go of my hand.”
Qin Han fought back a laugh. After rising to his feet, he stayed right by Xie Ling’s side. “I don’t want to let go. Is that okay?”
Xie Ling hesitated. “…I don’t think it is.”
“But my hand’s freezing.” Qin Han pressed the back of his hand against Xie Ling’s.
It really was cold. They were dressed similarly and had run over together, but Xie Ling’s hand was much warmer.
Thinking of the reason for his own warmth made Xie Ling’s ears turn pink. Pretending to be utterly nonchalant, he said, “I told you not to kneel on the ground. Ignore Ling Bro’s advice, and you suffer right away.”
Qin Han lowered his gaze meekly. “Sorry, I know I was wrong.”
As he spoke, he rubbed the back of his hand against Xie Ling’s, just like a kitten acting spoiled. “Warm it up for me, okay?”
…
Xie Ling didn’t respond.
Qin Han let out a seemingly casual sigh. When he finally released Xie Ling’s hand, he gave a deliberate little shiver. Cupping both hands to his mouth, he was about to huff warm breath onto them when Xie Ling suddenly grabbed one of his hands.
Qin Han froze. Truth be told, he’d expected to have to play it up a bit longer. He hadn’t thought it’d go this smoothly.
Xie Ling cleared his throat. “Fine. Bro here’s got plenty of yang energy to spare.”
With that, he slid his hand down, enveloping all five of Qin Han’s fingers in his warm palm.
Qin Han’s heartbeat went haywire. He already felt himself heating up—and not just any heat, but a restless, burning kind.
“Relax,” he murmured, stroking Xie Ling’s palm with his fingers. “I’ll just warm up a little. I won’t drain all your yang energy.”
…
Wait, had he even mentioned draining it?
Xie Ling turned to look at Qin Han, only to whip his gaze away the next second, startled by the intensity in his eyes.
How was this guy so…
Xie Ling tilted his head back to gaze at the starry sky, hoping the vast cosmos would soothe his racing heart.
Just then, a silvery streak flashed across the heavens.
Xie Ling’s attention snapped to it. He shook Qin Han’s hand frantically. “Quick, look! A shooting star!!”
He bounced on his toes like a kid, his eyes shimmering with delight.
“You know,” Qin Han said, watching another meteor streak by as he smiled lightly, “they say Alphas and Omegas who hold hands and watch shooting stars together always end up as lovers.”
Xie Ling blinked. In a flash, he yanked his hand free.
“What kind of bogus myth is that? Mmph—”
Halfway through his protest, Qin Han popped something into his mouth.
A piece of milk candy.
Xie Ling blinked. “?”
Qin Han grinned. “Try it.”
Xie Ling paused, then rolled the remaining half deeper into his mouth with his tongue.
A rich, creamy sweetness bloomed on his tongue, laced with the fresh scent of raisins. As he savored it, his eyes widened. “Is Dad here at the camp?”
He’d eaten his dad’s handmade milk candies all the time as a kid. Nothing store-bought ever tasted quite like this.
Qin Han smiled, satisfied by the delight in Xie Ling’s eyes. “Looks like I nailed it.”
Xie Ling blinked, then caught on. “You made this?”
Qin Han nodded. “You barely touched your dinner, so I figured you might get hungry. I borrowed the stove from one of the farm uncles here and made some.”
That explained why Xiao Yanfei hadn’t seen him after dinner…
“Thanks.” An indescribable feeling welled up in Xie Ling’s chest. “But how’d you even know how to make it?”
Qin Han smiled. “Last time, when I was with Uncle Xie, I told him how much I loved his desserts and asked if he’d sell me the recipe. He just gave it to me outright.”
Xie Ling’s eyes widened. “Bro, that’s awesome. Dad never shares that recipe. Aside from me and Mom, no one can buy it no matter how much they offer.”
And even though he and Madam Fu both had the recipe, they could never quite replicate Xie Cheng’s exact flavor. Madam Fu had nearly driven herself into a depression back when she couldn’t make it taste the same for Xie Ling.
Qin Han pretended to ponder seriously. “Maybe Uncle Xie sees me as one of his own.”
Xie Ling hummed in agreement—yeah, they were tight like that—when Qin Han chuckled. “Giving it to his future son-in-law hardly counts as sharing.”
Xie Ling’s face flushed red. “Qin Han!”
Qin Han held back his laughter. “Kidding. He probably figured I wanted to learn it to make for you, so he told me.”
Xie Ling frowned in confusion. “How’d he know that?”
“That time I went with him to the Xie Family place to find you. He must’ve seen it then.”
Xie Ling still didn’t get it. “Seen what?”
Qin Han sighed inwardly. If only Xie Ling put even a fraction of his study smarts into this stuff, he wouldn’t have to work so hard at it.
Still, it was a happy kind of hard work.
“He saw that I want to chase you.” Qin Han gently brushed back the stray hairs from Xie Ling’s forehead, his tone indulgent. “Little fool.”
Xie Ling’s face heated up. “You’re the fool! I’ve been buried in studying—no time for that messy stuff.”
“Right, I’m the fool. The biggest fool ever.” Qin Han laughed, pulling out a handful of milk candies from his pocket like he was coaxing a child. He held them out to Xie Ling. “Here, have some more, big brain.”
Xie Ling burst out laughing. “Big brain? You’re so cheesy.”
Grinning, he peeled open one wrapper. Qin Han had just shoved it straight into his mouth earlier, so he hadn’t noticed. Now he saw the candy was shaped like a heart.
“You’re… pretty creative, bro.”
“It’s not creativity.” Qin Han gazed at him intently. “It’s my true feelings.”
Xie Ling’s heart suddenly heated up, the candy in his hand almost too hot to hold. He hurriedly popped it into his mouth. Before he could calm down, Qin Han leaned in close again.
His breath warm and teasing, Qin Han murmured, “You just ate my true feelings, Little Ling.”
Xie Ling was sure his face had turned beet red. He accused, “You’re playing the victim card!”
Qin Han replied shamelessly, gently kneading Xie Ling’s hand. “Does that mean I owe a fine? Name your price—I’ll pay anything.”
“…I’m magnanimous. No fine.” Xie Ling tried to tug his hand free, saying primly, “Your penalty is to stay away from me.”
Qin Han felt like this kid was going to be the death of him from cuteness.
“But I’m so cold.” Instead of pulling back, he leaned in closer, practically pressing against Xie Ling.
Xie Ling felt like he was about to explode. He couldn’t explain why, but despite the pitiful tone, he had the strange sense that Qin Han was about to swallow him whole, consume him entirely.
It was like a beast in clever disguise, luring its prey into its territory with the softest facade before baring its savage fangs and devouring it in one gulp.
No way. He couldn’t stay this passive. That wasn’t his style.
Xie Ling pressed his hands to Qin Han’s shoulders, mustering his strength to shove him away, when a familiar shout suddenly rang out from the base of the slope. “What are you two doing up there?!”
What the—??
Xie Ling froze, then peered down the slope. Old Cai was standing right there at the bottom.
Director Cai hadn’t spotted them yet. His attention was fixed on a pair of lovebirds holding hands and stargazing by the riverbank.
This spot was the closest to First High School’s dorms, so most of the people who came here were First High students.
The romantic mood shattered instantly. Chaos erupted as everyone scrambled in a panic, trying to flee into the night.
But there was a river ahead, a steep slope to the right, and Old Cai blocking the rear. The only clear path was to the left.
Even though it was nighttime, the moonlight and starlight were bright in this area. Plus, Old Cai had switched on his flashlight, instantly illuminating every face crystal clear.
“Zhang Xiaofeng, Huang Yi, Liu Ting… Zhang Chengrui! Don’t think throwing your jacket over both your heads fools me—I know it’s you! Run back now, and your reflection essays double!”
…
With names called out like that, the group deflated instantly. They slunk back, heads hung low.
This was Director Cai’s most bountiful haul in two years of cracking down on puppy love, so he felt pretty smug. Instead of his usual bellowing, he smiled kindly as they returned. “That’s more like it. You’ve got farm work tomorrow—why waste your energy? Come on, let’s head to the Teachers’ Office and see your homeroom teachers.”
Groans and wails rose from the crowd.
Zhang Chengrui tugged Mu Yin along with a sigh. “Sigh, I don’t think Old Cai spotted you. You should’ve bolted first.”
Mu Yin tugged him right back, firm and decisive. “If we’re getting punished, we do it together. I couldn’t just ditch you.”
Zhang Chengrui’s heart swelled with emotion. Right then, one of the guys nearby pointed up the slope. “Director! There’s people up there!”
Director Cai looked over. Sure enough, two figures stood on the hillside. Backlit as they were, he couldn’t make out their faces, but their posture suggested they were holding hands.
The little hill offered a higher vantage and great stargazing at night, but Omegas usually avoided it. He hadn’t expected anyone to actually be up there.
Director Cai spotted the two fish that had slipped through the net, and alarms immediately went off in his head. He shouted up at them, “You two students up there—are you from our First High School?”
“Holy shit.” Xie Ling jumped in fright and silently memorized the face of the classmate who had just tipped off Old Cai. “This guy’s not cool at all.”
Without waiting for Qin Han to say a word, Xie Ling pinched his throat into a high-pitched squeak and yelled back down the slope, “Nope!”
Qin Han stood beside him, struggling to hold back his laughter.
Scattered snickers drifted up from the foot of the mountain.
Director Cai was furious. “Student! Don’t treat your teacher like an idiot!”
If Xie Ling hadn’t tried that fake voice, it might have been fine—but as it was, he only made himself look even more suspicious.
Director Cai hesitated for barely half a second before charging up the slope with his flashlight in hand. He’d already memorized the names of those little punks down below anyway. In the name of upholding strict school discipline, he couldn’t let these two up here get away either!
Seeing Old Cai—beer belly and all—start climbing the hill, Xie Ling nearly burst out laughing. He whispered to Qin Han, “Old Cai’s way too dedicated. No wonder all those schools full of delinquents want to poach him. The principal won’t keep him around without throwing in a bonus.”
Qin Han watched Xie Ling’s gleeful expression, the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. “Not running?”
Xie Ling acted perfectly nonchalant. “No rush. The slope’s pretty steep—Old Cai won’t make it up anytime soon.”
“I heard Director Cai grew up in the mountains. He’s really good at climbing steep hills and dirt slopes.”
“?”
Xie Ling glanced down and saw that Old Cai’s hefty build hadn’t slowed him down one bit. In just moments, the man had already scaled halfway up.
“Fuck.” Little Xie Ling—the sort who judged people by appearances—panicked at once. He urgently whispered to Qin Han, “Run! Run!”
He dashed forward a short distance, but something felt off. Turning back, he saw Qin Han still rooted to the spot. Sighing, Xie Ling doubled back. “What’s wrong? You giving up already?”
Qin Han smiled. “I don’t think we need to run.”
“Why not?”
Qin Han drawled leisurely, “Director Cai’s out here busting puppy love. We’re just good bros who came up the mountain to stargaze. It’s such a pure friendship—why should we run?”
Xie Ling fell silent.
For some reason, he got the distinct feeling that the guy was protesting a bit too much. Something similar had happened last time at that Western restaurant near school, but Qin Han’s attitude hadn’t been like this back then.
“Or do you think we look like a couple? Worried it’ll give Director Cai the wrong idea?”
…
He was definitely setting a trap!
Xie Ling’s ears grew hot. “I don’t think we look like a couple. But right now, we’ve got one A and one O hanging out at a lovers’ spot to watch the stars. Old Cai’s imagination runs wild, so to avoid unnecessary trouble, we have to run.”
Qin Han watched him rattle off his perfectly logical argument, a itch blooming in his chest even as a hint of regret stirred. He should’ve set a more clever trap. The little guy had gotten smarter now—he wasn’t falling for it.
“Fine, then.”
Xie Ling let out a breath of relief and turned to bolt, only to realize Qin Han still hadn’t budged.
“What’s the matter now, young master?” Xie Ling didn’t even notice the helpless indulgence that had crept into his own voice.
“I’m not familiar with the terrain here, and it’s dark out. If we run, I’m liable to trip and fall. Getting back up would waste time, and if it’s a bad fall, we definitely won’t escape.”
Xie Ling shot back, “…Weren’t you bounding along like a gazelle back in the Small Woods?”
Qin Han gazed at him with a smile. “That was because I wanted to bring you up here to see the stars. No road’s too tough for me then.”
“…And now?”
“You said we don’t look like a couple. I’ve got no motivation.” Qin Han lowered his eyelids and extended his hand toward Xie Ling, saying in a bitchy, coquettish tone, “You’ll have to hold my hand and coax me if you want me to run.”
