Chapter 45: Brown Eyes (19)

“Little Xun, please, can we move Thursday to this day? I booked a snow-view villa on Planet Simu. Please just accompany me there, okay?”

Shen Qiuxun twirled a pen, recalling the phone call he’d just had with Xu Zhiyuan at the small hotel. He clicked open the Planet Simu snow tour gift package the other had sent: skiing, handicrafts, hot springs, gourmet meals, a superb glass observation deck, a cozy wooden cabin…

There was even a 3D surround spatial map, allowing a 360-degree, no-dead-angle preview.

‘System, I’m very tempted.’

[Then go if you’re tempted.]

‘What about my mission?’

[Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Once you’re back from your trip, Number Two will love you even more.]

‘Who gave you permission to give them nicknames? So unlucky.’

[Go, go, go. You must go. I’ve never once drawn our system’s luxury travel gift package. Host, I have high hopes for you.]

‘.’

Shen Qiuxun cleared his throat. His black bangs fell before his eyes as he tilted his head. He reached out to type: “But my work…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll have Qin Zhe cover your shift. He’s very willing.”

“That works then.”

Qin Zhe, who had been thoroughly and clearly assigned without his consent: …

Xu Zhiyuan excitedly rechecked tomorrow’s Planet Simu itinerary. Picking up his pen, he signed his name at the bottom. He didn’t look up. The gentle, amiable expression from the chat was already gone. He just arranged flatly, “Go.”

He hoped that by the time they returned from this trip, Fu Mingchuan would no longer exist in this world.

Shen Qiuxun put down his lightbrain, crossed his arms over the armrest of the recliner, and looked at the increasingly large green plants on the balcony. He heard Fu Mingchuan finish washing the clothes and come out. He watched the other approach, then skillfully hang the laundered clothes on the rope on the balcony.

“I’m going on a business trip tomorrow. I’ll be back in two days.”

The recliner swayed gently. Shen Qiuxun’s arm pressed against his cheek as he looked up, his dark upper lash line making his bright black pupils seem like they held a pool of water.

“Work-related?”

“Mm.” Shen Qiuxun didn’t change his expression.

Fu Mingchuan hung all the clothes, dried his hands with a towel, then stooped down and slipped under Shen Qiuxun’s thin blanket. The recliner, modified by him, was now a size bigger.

After a violent bout of shaking, Shen Qiuxun was lazily pulled into a hug. Fu Mingchuan nibbled his ear, half-complaining, half-joking. “Little Xun doesn’t know what it’s like. Alone in the house, pitch black, not a sound around. Kitty is so scared it won’t even eat its midnight snack.”

Shen Qiuxun used the man as a human mattress with a clear conscience, lying on his chest and poking his protruding Adam’s apple like a kitten. “Who told you to give Kitty midnight snacks? He’s nothing like the handsome, dashing figure he was at the secret base.”

When Fu Mingchuan smiled, his Adam’s apple trembled slightly. He reached up to touch Shen Qiuxun’s hair. “Has Little Xun’s hair grown longer?”

“Mm.” Shen Qiuxun was drowsy, and in his daze, someone secretly stole a kiss.

“Then, when you’re on your business trip, can you call Kitty often?”

Shen Qiuxun reluctantly opened his eyes, meeting the man’s black-brown pupils. He lifted his hand, his fingertip tracing from the brow bone down to the bridge of the nose, then to the corner of the eye. Only then did he realize that the eyes that always looked gentle actually had a rather cold, upward-slanting shape. “Oh.”

He tapped the man’s thin lips and was then chased by kisses.

Kitty meowed anxiously on the floor again.

Shen Qiuxun pushed the man away, yawned, revealing the pink soft flesh inside his mouth. “Mm.”

That counted as agreeing to someone’s request to call more often.

So Fu Mingchuan bit down again, and the two of them fooled around on the recliner until midnight.

…

Shen Qiuxun had relied on social assistance and scholarships since childhood. He hadn’t been destitute or worried about food and clothing, but constrained by his financial situation, the times in his twenty-some years that could truly be called pleasant were few and far between.

One period was in elementary school. His thinking was still simple then; he couldn’t fully grasp the meaning of “orphan.” Accompanied by friends, he had also spent a beautiful, carefree time.

Then there was university, when he could truly earn his own money and use it as he pleased. He remembered one particular holiday, when he and a few friends made a spontaneous decision to visit a neighboring city. On a breezy summer evening, riding an electric scooter past the shimmering lake shore, the wind lifting their hair, he saw the dark clouds on the horizon.

And now, as he lay by the hot spring pool on Planet Simu, looking at the glistening snow outside the glass and the rows of wooden cabins standing like gingerbread houses, he also felt a moment that could be called “pleasant” and “free.”

No need to think about his identity, nor about the direction of the future. He only needed to quietly enjoy this moment… oh, and the fragrance of money.

Money is truly a wonderful thing, Shen Qiuxun sighed.

Xu Zhiyuan opened the door and came in. He saw the figure leaning obliquely against the edge of the hot spring. Thin back, slender arms. The ends of his jet-black hair were slightly damp, clinging to the nape of his snow-white neck. His skin was fair, even whiter than the jade-like edge of the pool. Water droplets slid down from his rounded shoulders, clear and cold, wet and glistening, radiating a living, breathing allure.

He swallowed dryly and approached softly. “Little Xun, ginger tea or mulled wine?”

Shen Qiuxun came back to his senses and took the glass cup containing the ginger tea. Holding it with both hands, he lowered his head and blew on it. The dispersing mist blurred his brows and eyes into an ethereal vagueness, leaving only his lips, their color deepened by the moisture.

Black hair, snow-white skin; he was like a spirit born of the snow.

“Do you know ginger cola?”

Xu Zhiyuan snapped out of his daze. “Ginger cola?”

“Mm, it’s good.”

Shen Qiuxun finished his ginger tea. Feeling his body warm and cozy, he grew drowsy. There had been a famous foot bath parlor near his university, but because the price wasn’t low, he’d debated many times and never gone.

He crossed his arms under his cheek, staring at the mulled wine in Xu Zhiyuan’s hand, looking at the bright red liquid. He leaned in two steps closer. “Is the alcohol content high?”

Shen Qiuxun looked back, his lazy, cool features misted over by the curling steam of the hot spring. Fine water droplets condensed on his eyelashes, just like a begonia petal dampened by dew on a rainy night—delicate, almost dripping. In the hazy vapor, it was like looking at flowers through mist, effortlessly capable of stealing one’s soul.

His delicate collarbone was exposed to the air, still holding a small pool of clear water.

Xu Zhiyuan looked away uncomfortably, feeling the temperature of the hot spring seemed to rise. He pushed the wine glass forward. “Little Xun, try it.”

Shen Qiuxun took a light sip, tasting it carefully. The aroma of the red wine reached his palate, the scent of alcohol and the faint fragrance of the wine clashing wildly in his mouth. He didn’t particularly like alcohol, but the taste was decent, and it felt more sophisticated in a snowy hot spring.

Without changing his expression, he pushed the ginger tea he had drunk from over. They swapped, and he lay down to savor his wine slowly. Small sip by small sip, frowning slightly whenever the alcoholic taste hit him sharply.

Xu Zhiyuan just watched and silently moved closer. “Is it good?”

No answer. Only when he leaned even closer, his arm pressing against Shen Qiuxun’s, did Shen Qiuxun lazily lift his eyelids to glance at him, humming an indistinct “hmph,” then arrogantly withdrawing his gaze.

Somehow, the side of Xu Zhiyuan’s face came to rest against Shen Qiuxun’s cheek, warm. He couldn’t help but kiss it. Under the cover of the spring water, his arm secretly wrapped around that slender waist that had appeared in his dreams countless times. “Little Xun, Baby, you smell so good.”

The entire glass of mulled wine was finished. Shen Qiuxun felt sticky all over and finally thought of leaving. He pressed both hands against the edge and lifted himself out of the water. His arms weren’t fragilely thin but possessed a bit of lean muscle, the contours more pronounced when strained, making one imagine the care and love Nüwa put into creating him.

His calf was caught. Shen Qiuxun used the posture to turn and sit on the pool’s edge, his calves still soaking in the hot spring. Looking down at the man in the pool, who was climbing up from his calf, he saw the striking silver hair soaked wet, clinging to the skin, eyes full of infatuation.

It reminded one of a puppy wagging its tail when given food.

It was a bit hot.

Shen Qiuxun shook his head. His disheveled hair stuck up slightly. Water droplets slid down his snow-white skin, then were licked clean by a warm tongue. After a long moment, he grabbed the man’s hair to lift his face. As his leg moved, the snow-white bathrobe fell open.

Shen Qiuxun was a little flushed, but also very hot. His confused thoughts couldn’t find an outlet. He just followed his instinct, gently arching his waist forward. His eyes seemed filled with water, veiled in a hazy fog.

He met a pair of intensely burning dark green eyes.

Emotions so fierce they were frightening, as if wanting to devour him.

Shen Qiuxun’s mind was slow. He’d never drunk since childhood—partly due to being a model student, partly because he never had spare money for alcohol. It made him practically a lightweight who passed out after three cups.

He cupped the man’s face with both hands and lowered his head. His misty eyes seemed like they could drip water. His originally extremely cool features were now tinged with a breathtaking, alluring hue.

Xu Zhiyuan wrapped his arms around his waist, instinctively stopping himself, like a thirsty man straining with all his might to catch a dewdrop falling from a leaf on a branch.

But the end result wasn’t a kiss. The other person was observing him carefully, like a small animal. Finally, he frowned. “I hate you.”

In this context, this cold statement was naturally tinged with a hint of coy complaint, as if sulking. It made one’s heart ache and sweeten all at once, a blend so potent it made one want to carve open their chest and let the other see inside.

“Don’t hate me… my good Little Xun, punish me, do whatever you want.” Xu Zhiyuan pulled that slender, pale waist close. Shen Qiuxun’s flat belly pressed against his chest. He felt almost drowned by the heat of the hot spring.

“No… I hate you.”

Shen Qiuxun let out a soft humph and pushed him away without mercy.

Exceptionally good-looking people face too many temptations from a young age, and Shen Qiuxun was naturally the best among them.

But no one could ever succeed in pulling him down. Never.

The spring scenery dispersed like ink bleeding into the world. He slowly lowered his eyes, which seemed to hold a thousand-year-old frost that would never melt. The cold, clear mist around him seemed to be dispersed by the aura of rejection he radiated, vanishing into thin strands, leaving him standing alone, exuding a coolness that kept people at arm’s length and a decisive ruthlessness.

Wearing only a bathrobe, yet he was as sacrosanct as a deity.

The ruthlessness hidden beneath the laziness was displayed before the man for the first time, without reservation. From his vantage point, he flippantly patted someone’s cheek, his voice slightly hoarse:

“Wait then… wait until the day I believe in your loyalty.”