Chapter 23
During the ten-hour flight, Murong Cheng barely slept.
Drowsiness lingered, but every time he drifted off, he would jolt awake, his mind filled with dreams of Murong Yan.
Murong Yan in the auditorium, Murong Yan looking at him through the car window, Murong Yan smiling gently, Murong Yan staring at him intently.
He was terrified of never seeing him again, of never hearing his voice, of never seeing his smile.
He realized, with a jolt, how much he had come to rely on Murong Yan in such a short time.
He knew Murong Yan wouldn’t do anything illegal. So, everything would be alright, right?
Before takeoff, he had messaged Murong Yan, telling him he was on his way. But there was no Wi-Fi on the plane, and he couldn’t refresh his messages, leaving him anxiously awaiting landing.
The cabin lights flickered. His neck ached. Finally, the announcement came: they were about to land.
Descent, landing, taxiing. Almost an hour later, he finally reached Munich. But he had forgotten to activate international roaming. He still couldn’t connect to the internet.
He was alone in a foreign country, for the first time, not knowing a soul, unable to speak the language. How would he find Murong Yan? He had no idea.
He should have dragged Chi Yu along, he thought glumly.
The Munich airport was smaller and older than he expected. He followed the signs, stumbling through customs and immigration, until he reached the exit.
He stood in a corner, trying to connect to the airport Wi-Fi. But the German instructions were incomprehensible, and he couldn’t use a translation app without internet access.
The airplane food had been unappetizing, and he hadn’t eaten much. Now, he was suddenly starving.
He rubbed his empty stomach and continued struggling with the Wi-Fi.
The airport lighting wasn’t bright. He suddenly felt someone standing before him, blocking the light.
He looked up and saw the face he had been longing for.
Time seemed to stop.
His gaze traced every feature of the man’s face, his high nose, his deep-set eyes, until their eyes met.
“Yan-ge,” he whispered, tears welling up.
The worry and anxiety of the past day came crashing down.
Murong Yan pulled him into a hug.
“Why did you come alone?” his voice was low and warm against his ear.
“Something happened at Guangyu,” Murong Cheng mumbled, his arms tightening around the CEO’s waist.
Seeing Murong Yan, his heart calmed.
“I know,” the CEO’s voice was calm, betraying no emotion.
Murong Cheng buried his face in his neck. “I couldn’t reach you.”
Murong Yan gently patted his back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
He held him tightly, his warmth seeping through their clothes. The airport corner was dimly lit, but Murong Cheng’s heart felt bright.
He pulled away slightly and looked up. “What are you going to do about Guangyu?”
Murong Yan didn’t answer directly. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. Are you tired? Let’s go back and rest.”
“Yan-ge…” He wanted to ask more, his worry evident in his eyes.
Murong Yan patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Come on, the driver’s waiting.”
He reluctantly gave up on further questions.
Murong Yan took his backpack and handed him a black credit card. “Take this. Use it if you need anything. Book a first-class ticket next time. It’s more comfortable.”
Murong Cheng waved his hand. “I have enough money. I haven’t used the money you transferred earlier.”
Murong Yan looked at him. “Why not?”
Murong Cheng touched his nose. “I thought it was for the hotel and other expenses.”
The CEO frowned slightly, his eyes softening. “That money was for you. I’m your boyfriend now. You don’t need to be so formal with me.”
His gaze was intense, and Murong Cheng looked away, embarrassed. “Okay, okay, I know. Let’s go. I’m starving.”
Murong Yan took his hand naturally. “Hungry? I’ll take you to eat. What do you want? I think there’s only a sandwich shop at the airport.”
Murong Cheng squeezed his hand. “We can eat near your hotel. I want to try the best restaurant you’ve been to here.”
“The best restaurant…” Murong Yan paused, as if considering this seriously.
Murong Cheng smiled. “Or any local specialty.”
“Okay,” Murong Yan nodded.
Just after Christmas, nearing New Year’s, the streets of Munich were decorated with colorful lights. It was still dark, and the city was quiet. They drove through the empty streets, Murong Cheng gazing out the window at the picturesque European architecture, feeling like he was in a painting.
Few restaurants were open at this hour. Murong Yan took him back to the hotel and ordered room service.
He was staying in a suite at a five-star hotel in the city center. The hotel looked old but well-maintained, the rooms spacious and clean.
Murong Cheng followed him inside, his eyes widening at the sight of the large double bed. He decided to wait and see. Murong Yan had only brought him here for food, not necessarily to stay the night. Even if he intended to get him a separate room, they could discuss it later.
Room service was slow. They were told the wait would be forty minutes. Murong Cheng placed his backpack on the sofa in the living room and sat down.
“Yan-ge… why don’t you get some rest? I didn’t realize we would arrive so late,” he said apologetically.
He hadn’t expected Murong Yan to be waiting for him at the airport.
He had been so worried, imagining having to search for him all over the city.
Murong Yan shook his head.
The coffee machine whirred. He brought Murong Cheng a cup of freshly brewed coffee.
Plain black coffee. Murong Cheng shook his head, grimacing.
Murong Yan went back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water.
“Here,” he opened the bottle and handed it to him.
Murong Cheng drank a few sips.
“The food will take a while,” Murong Yan said, retrieving a box of chocolates from a cabinet. “Have some of these.”
Murong Cheng nodded and took a piece.
The chocolate had a caramel filling. Delicious, but very sweet.
He drank more water.
“Are you tired? Want to take a shower and change clothes?” Murong Yan asked, watching him.
He did want to shower. He felt grimy after the long flight.
But… shower in Murong Yan’s room?
He hesitated.
Murong Yan seemed to sense his hesitation. “You can use the bathroom in the bedroom. I have some work to do. I’ll stay in the living room.”
Murong Cheng licked his lips and grabbed his backpack. “Okay.”
The bathroom was large, with both a shower and a bathtub. He retrieved his change of clothes and stepped into the shower.
The water was pleasantly warm, washing away his fatigue. The shower gel had a sweet citrus scent.
The steam warmed his cheeks, the air thick with moisture.
He dried himself, put on his clothes, and stepped out of the bathroom, just as Murong Yan arrived at the bedroom door.
“The food’s here,” he said, his gaze lingering on Murong Cheng for a moment.
“Okay,” Murong Cheng nodded and walked over to the living room.
Murong Yan placed the tray on the coffee table. The late-night menu was limited, mostly German dishes: grilled sausages, large chunks of roasted potatoes, dark bread, cinnamon rolls dusted with powdered sugar, cheese, and a small dish of vinaigrette. There was only one set of silverware. Murong Cheng gave the fork to Murong Yan and picked up a piece of bread with his hands.
It was hard and tasteless.
He grimaced and forced himself to swallow.
“You eat. I’m not hungry,” Murong Yan said, placing the fork back on the tray.
Murong Cheng took the fork and tried a sausage. It was better than the bread, slightly salty, which actually complemented the bland bread.
He was hungry. Despite not liking the food, he ate most of it.
Full, he leaned back against the sofa, clutching a pillow. Murong Yan closed his laptop, having finished his work.
A faint light filtered through the curtains. It was morning.
“Want to get some sleep?” Murong Yan asked.
“Are you going out later?” Murong Cheng asked instead.
The CEO nodded. “Yes, I have a meeting at a factory. It’s a pre-scheduled appointment.”
Murong Cheng: “I’ll come with you.”
Murong Yan looked at him. “You just arrived. You need to rest and adjust to the time difference.”
He was right. Even if he went, he wouldn’t be much help. At least in China, he could take meeting minutes. But here, he couldn’t understand the language. He would just be a burden. He could understand a little English, but everyone here spoke German. Murong Yan was impressive, ordering room service in fluent German. He had visited several European countries. Did he know all the languages?
He nodded absently, his mind wandering.
“What are you thinking about?”
He hadn’t even noticed Murong Yan approaching.
The CEO sat beside him, their bodies almost touching, their noses inches apart.
Murong Cheng blinked. “Just thinking…”
Whenever Murong Yan got this close, his mind went blank.
“If you want to come with me, you can tomorrow. Rest today.”
Murong Cheng looked at him and nodded. “Okay.”
“Go to sleep. I’m going to shower and get ready,” Murong Yan said, gently stroking his hair.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Unable to sleep, Murong Cheng sat on the sofa for a while, then opened the curtains.
The sky outside was a clear, bright blue, the golden sunlight illuminating the empty streets and buildings.
He opened the window a crack.
The cool morning air was refreshing. He took a deep breath, not noticing when the water stopped.
Murong Yan, wearing a bathrobe, walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around him.
“Ah!” Murong Cheng turned around instinctively.
His forehead bumped against the CEO’s chin. He winced.
Murong Yan frowned, then leaned down and kissed the spot where he had bumped him. Murong Cheng blushed.
A drop of water fell from the CEO’s damp hair, landing on his collarbone. The warm drop trickled down his chest, sending a shiver down his spine.
He was trapped against the wall, his back pressed against the ornate wallpaper.
The bathrobe was loosely tied, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest.
“Yan-ge…”
His eyes, usually clear and bright, were now clouded with desire. Trapped in the CEO’s embrace, his mind screamed at him to escape, but his legs felt weak.
“Don’t you have a meeting… at the factory…?” he managed to say.
“Yes,” Murong Yan’s dark eyes, like pools of ink, held his gaze. His voice was husky. “But there’s no rush.”
The curtains closed, plunging the room into darkness. Murong Cheng squinted, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, just as he felt the CEO’s warm breath on his neck.
“Ah Cheng, I miss you so much,” he whispered, his lips brushing against his skin, his hand resting on his lower back. “Did you miss me? Hmm?”
His voice trailed off, expecting an answer. Murong Cheng opened his mouth but couldn’t speak.
His limbs felt heavy, his senses overwhelmed by the CEO’s scent, his body burning with a need to be closer.
Murong Yan was undeniably dominant, taking control without hesitation, his touch both gentle and demanding, his kisses erasing the pain, his lips wiping away the tears that welled up in Murong Cheng’s eyes.
He couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, only whimpering softly, his vision blurred by tears. He clung to the CEO, his nails digging into his skin.
The soft bed was almost as intoxicating as Murong Yan himself.
He was exhausted, but Murong Yan lifted him from the bed.
The cool water from the showerhead sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned against the CEO, seeking warmth. Murong Yan held him, gently washing him, then wrapped him in a large, fluffy towel.
Sleepiness washed over him. He rested his head on Murong Yan’s shoulder, his eyelids heavy.
His last conscious thought was of the CEO’s fingers gently caressing his face, the warm air from the hairdryer, and the cool press of lips against his skin.
Murong Yan’s voice was a soft whisper against his ear.
He kissed his earlobe.
“Sleep, my love. I love you.”
