Chapter 71

Qi Jing was watching a documentary about geological evolution on the first floor, dressed in dark loungewear. The flush at the corners of his eyes had mostly faded.

Bo Chengyan was simply shelling dried fruits for him beside the sofa, his expression cold and detached—especially when he spotted the visitor.

“Hmm?”

The young man glanced over, a touch surprised. It wasn’t the regular fruit delivery person.

It was the doctor.

Lin Se stood frozen at the entrance, utterly shocked and motionless for a long while. Only when Auntie beside him gently asked if he wanted to take off his coat did he finally snap back to his senses.

What?

What was going on here?

He’d simply never seen the man like this before. Politely, he told Auntie, “No, no, I can handle it myself.”

After tidying up at the entrance, the young man couldn’t help stealing glances toward the living room.

Bo Chengyan half-rose, blocking nearly half of Qi Jing’s silhouette. He slipped a shelled nut into the young man’s lips, lowering his eyes calmly. “Go upstairs and change your clothes.”

Qi Jing tilted his head and chewed for a moment before instinctively asking, “You’re not here to check on me?”

He had developed a habit.

Lin Se came every time to examine him.

Qi Jing felt perfectly at ease with him and didn’t think of him as an outsider.

“No.”

Bo Chengyan gazed down at him, his expression faintly indifferent. He merely brushed the young man’s cheek lightly with his knuckle.

“You’re here for him?”

Qi Jing grasped the man’s wrist and tried to tilt his head for a look at the visitor, but Bo Chengyan pressed his thumb against him.

The man’s tone was gentle yet insistent as he repeated himself.

“Mm. Go upstairs and change your clothes.”

By the time Lin Se walked over, he only caught the kid waving at him before Qi Jing stepped into the elevator.

“…”

Brocade River Villas had originally been just a vacant residence, only put into use about two years ago. But this floor wasn’t particularly high.

Take the elevator to the second floor?

Lin Se asked curiously, but Bo Chengyan merely frowned. “He bruised his knee on the stairs once.”

“Anything?”

It was a brief exchange, cutting straight to the purpose.

Truth be told, there was a hint of displeasure.

“Why didn’t you come pick up the medicine?”

Bo Chengyan replied calmly, “No need anymore.”

“All better?”

The man lifted his gaze.

Lin Se shoved his hands in his pockets and met his eyes without flinching.

As if. He’d sworn long ago.

To keep watch for life.

“I can control it myself.”

The young man descended from upstairs just then, having thrown on a long-sleeved shirt and gray pants. Perhaps in a rush, his bangs were still a bit messy.

“Doctor.”

Qi Jing greeted him before asking, “Are you here to check on him?”

Perhaps it was the casualness of the question.

Lin Se’s brow twitched in disbelief as he looked at Bo Chengyan, who only frowned slightly.

The message was clear.

—He doesn’t know.

Qi Jing’s logic was perfectly sound.

Lin Se always showed up as the doctor. A doctor’s visit meant a check-up, right?

Lin Se considered it and went through the motions, taking Bo Chengyan’s pulse. He still raised a brow, though.

Qi Jing watched intently from nearby, lifting his eyes toward them.

That look conveyed complete trust.

“Ah, a bit of excess internal heat.”

Bo Chengyan shot him a cold glance, and Lin Se felt like he’d brushed against a demon, quickly withdrawing his hand.

Inwardly, he thought: So good at playing it cool.

But then he glanced at the coffee table and the projection screen across from it.

Scattered fruit shells littered the surface, with a plate full of neatly shelled nuts.

Hand-feeding him, huh.

“…”

Why not just buy pre-shelled ones?

Tch.

Qi Jing had no idea what “excess heat” entailed exactly, but he knew a bit about traditional Chinese medicine terms. So he asked, “How do you clear it, then?”

The room fell awkwardly silent for a moment.

Lin Se stood there, pondering for ages before catching on. “Oh, right—clearing the heat?”

An adult’s dirty mind.

Old adult films loved the line “relieve the fire,” and that was his first brush with real Chinese dialogue.

He really was morally bankrupt.

“No big deal. Just drink some herbal tea.”

As the words slipped out automatically, Lin Se felt his brain go strangely smooth.

It sounded utterly unprofessional.

He really wasn’t cut out for hiding things from people.

Qi Jing looked puzzled but nodded anyway.

Herbal tea did clear heat, after all.

But did it really require a house call?

Right then—

“Check him.”

Bo Chengyan had stayed utterly composed from start to finish, showing no worry at all. He simply took the young man’s wrist and offered it for the pulse reading.

Lin Se sometimes couldn’t fathom it. Why was he always so effortlessly in control, as if nothing fazed him?

What if the kid got scared?

“Am I sick?”

The thought pulled Lin Se back; Qi Jing was asking him.

“No.”

Lin Se was shocked once more. No blood or qi deficiency this time. Much better—in fact, a big improvement over last time.

Did a domestic New Year have that much power?

Fully replenished?

“You’re very healthy.”

Bo Chengyan’s expression remained impassive as he rose and turned to Qi Jing. “Little Jing, go fetch the gift.”

Qi Jing acknowledged with an “oh.” It was cookies Auntie had made; one batch had already gone to the assistant. Perfect timing with the doctor here.

“Okay.”

He left.

Now only two remained in the living room.

Lin Se was simply baffled. “How are you raising him?”

A genuine question.

Honestly.

Qi Jing was still growing taller, and his mental state had gradually brightened bit by bit.

Lin Se could see it.

He crossed his arms. “Bo, I’m going back to Canada for this so-called family reunion. I can’t keep treating you forever.”

“Are you sure you can keep it under control?”

Bo Chengyan looked over with refined courtesy. “I won’t hurt him.”

“But it’s a long winter break.”

The young man frowned slightly but handed over the medicine he’d brought anyway.

A black bag.

“My advice is…”

“Stick to a normal frequency. Don’t go too long in one go—that can instill fear in your partner.”

“But from what I see…”

Lin Se spotted Qi Jing helping Auntie pack the cookie bags, tilting his head. “He really hasn’t developed any negative emotions from it.”

It was almost a sigh.

“How’d you pull that off?”

Enough security.

That was all it took.

When Qi Jing first got location sharing, he’d check it out of curiosity. But after an hour, he’d lose interest.

Bo Chengyan would occasionally call to check in, and only then would the young man grow a little anxious, pulling out his phone to track the location.

Like a little quiz.

Full marks every time.

It was the same in bed.

Teary eyes would well up—sometimes from pleasure, sometimes from grievance.

He needed to be held close.

His waist supported, damp arms draped over his shoulders, a muffled voice emerging.

Calling his name in broken whispers.

Needing comfort.

About fifteen minutes.

Then they’d continue.

He was young; anything went.

But that was precisely why.

Qi Jing sometimes didn’t understand, blurting out innocent questions.

“Why go out?”

“You’re not better yet.”

Things like that.

Back to the present.

With the doctor gone, Qi Jing returned to his corner of the sofa. He kicked off his shoes, pulled the blanket over himself, and resumed the documentary.

Geology formed the basis of paleontology. The process of ecological evolution was utterly fascinating; he didn’t find it dull in the least.

Until a shadow fell over him.

Qi Jing tilted his head unhappily toward the projection screen. His wrist was gently pulled over, the pulse point kissed.

He was scooped up and settled into the man’s lap.

New Year’s was approaching; Auntie had gone home for the evening. The place was quiet.

Qi Jing accepted the gesture easily, nestling into a comfortable spot and continuing to watch the screen.

His bangs received a kiss.

Then his earlobe.

Then his nape.

“Mm…”

The young man was still focused on the documentary.

Finally, Qi Jing twisted around to peck Bo Chengyan’s chin. But just as he tried to turn back, his neck was gently pinched.

The grip had just the right pressure, drawing him back irresistibly.

Their lips met plainly.

Like imprinting a seal.

A kiss.

“So interesting?”

Bo Chengyan murmured lowly, his profile sharply contoured beneath his brow bone, voice husky.

Feeling off-balance, Qi Jing simply straddled him. He glanced back at the screen and pondered seriously.

“I need to study hard.”

“I’m the only one left in class now.”

“The other classmate dropped out.”

Bo Chengyan frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything? Switch classes next semester—”

“No, no.”

Qi Jing shook his head. “Then there’d be no one at all.”

“The teacher brings me snacks to class every day.”

Bo Chengyan held his waist, leaning back slightly in relaxed repose. But his tone was grave.

“Losing your independence over petty favors?”

“Not good.”

Qi Jing’s palm was seized, his fingers splayed and lightly pinched.

“No—no.”

Seeming flustered, he scooted forward a bit and began stammering an explanation.

“I’m not… I don’t know what to do.”

“I have plenty of money.”

Bo Chengyan arched a brow slightly.

Without any fanfare.

“Mm.”

“It’s enough to live on comfortably. I just want to do some good deeds. That’s all.”

Qi Jing simply wanted to give back to this world.

There were so few professionals in the field.

His teacher seemed delighted at the prospect.

Bo Chengyan merely asked, “Do you like paleontology?”

“Have you thought about pursuing higher studies?”

Qi Jing blinked in confusion.

“Your teacher showing such enthusiasm means he wants you to keep going beyond undergrad—not just stop at a bachelor’s.”

“Do you know how long it takes to train talent like that?”

Qi Jing did some quick math. “Eight or nine years?”

“That’s for a combined bachelor’s-master’s-PhD program. The longer ones take around ten years, and you have to be exceptionally talented to graduate on time with a doctorate.”

“Do you really like it?”

Qi Jing felt utterly lost, unsure what to do. “I… I kind of like it… but…”

“Then take it one step at a time and see.”

“The basics of any discipline are straightforward at first. But the deeper you go, the more innate talent you need—the ability to think independently.”

“Don’t let someone else’s moral pressure sway you out of pity.”

“You don’t need to take responsibility for anyone else.”

“I can back you up.”

Guidance from an elder was essential.

When facing major life decisions like this, advice was invaluable.

In the end, Qi Jing leaned his face against the other’s chest, sounding deeply frustrated. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”

The pad of a finger rubbed gently against his skin.

~~~

The winter break was indeed very long.

Ling Yue’s company had excellent benefits, including a generous year-end holiday. Bo Chengyan spent most of his time accompanying Qi Jing.

He only took his medication on schedule at night.

Qi Jing lay on his side in bed, a few damp strands of hair plastered to his forehead. The smart wristband on his wrist kept beeping insistently.

The young man raised his hand to turn it off.

“Hah…”

Bo Chengyan had approached at some point. He lifted Qi Jing’s hand, glanced down at the wristband with lowered eyes, and noted the elevated heart rate.

He scooped Qi Jing up into his arms. The young man in his embrace had barely any strength left and was just panting softly.

Qi Jing felt a bit dazed…

It… it felt really good.

But it was too much.

He… he…

His chin was gently pried open, and something sweet was poured in—sugar water.

It was very sweet, almost cloyingly so.

“Mm… ah.”

The young man raised a hand to push against that arm, but it was more like steadying himself as he drank it down. Then came a cup of pure water.

The rim of the cup pressed against his lips, the liquid passed in bit by bit.

His throat bobbed once.

He swallowed it down with utmost seriousness.

Only after being held like that for a good while did Bo Chengyan check his heartbeat again.

It had stabilized.

But at that moment—

Qi Jing vaguely realized that when pleasure piled up to a certain peak, it was frightening. His vision would black out briefly, leaving him with the sensation of being tossed into the clouds.

Would he… break?

When he was finally set back down on the bed, the young man pressed a hand against that broad shoulder, his voice hoarse and muffled.

“Bo… Bo Chengyan.”

“Take some medicine yourself.”