In the bathroom.
The fine stream of water pattered against his body, washing away the remnants of passion and desire. Thinking back to what had just happened, Qin Mu felt as if he had gone mad.
Ordinarily, he carried himself like a calm old monk who had long seen through the dust of the mortal world. Yet the moment he faced that man, all composure vanished—he became like a block of dull, foolish wood, led by a string, performing a ridiculous puppet show.
He stood under the shower for a long while with his eyes closed before finally pressing down the emotion that he did not even know whether it was regret or melancholy. When he stepped out, wrapped in a bathrobe, he found Shen Liu fiddling with the props they had used earlier.
After all these years of practice, Qin Mu’s ability to feign composure was still decent. Even though he was so embarrassed, he refused to acknowledge the messy bed. His expression remained calm as he asked, “Need help?”
“No. I’m waiting for you.” Shen Liu tossed the ruler aside. His hair was slightly long, and when he didn’t tie it up, his fringe covered most of his brows, making his gaze seem even deeper.
“What, scared to sleep alone?” Qin Mu teased.
“Yeah.” The other man was very good at playing along. “Scared to death—been waiting for you to come and soothe my fragile soul.”
“You flatter me. I don’t have that kind of skill. Find someone else.” Qin Mu spoke as he moved toward the door, but it wouldn’t open.
The man strolled over at an unhurried pace, unlocked it, and followed him back to the master bedroom. Ignoring Qin Mu’s look of dismissal, he sat down boldly at the bedside.
Qin Mu’s mouth twitched. “Since you’re treating this place as a guest room, shouldn’t you at least show some respect?”
Shen Liu leaned lazily against the soft pillows. “Just now, you were the one who kissed me so eagerly, crying and gasping with pleasure. Now you’re turning hostile and driving me out after you’re done? That’s too heartless, isn’t it?”
When it came to shamelessness, Shen Liu was blessed beyond measure, while Qin Mu was unfortunate enough to lose at the starting line. Just a few words were enough to make his ears burn. Fearing the man would say something even more indecent, he said coldly, “Are you leaving or not?” His posture was already that of someone ready to go if the other stayed.
Shen Liu had always known how to play with boundaries; he teased just enough before pulling back. Despite his usual lack of decorum, he now wore a serious look, adopting the air of a business negotiator. “A gentleman keeps his word. We agreed on a one-night stand—so even if it hasn’t been eight hours, at least wait until morning, right? Besides, a game should honour its contract. Did you carry out my last command just now?”
“So?” Qin Mu raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to spew nonsense.
“So…” Shen Liu drew out the word, then patted the empty half of the bed beside him. “I’ll skip the punishment. Just stay and sleep with me for a while. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
He was always like this. He raised the knife high, only to set it down gently, taking the stance of ‘see, I’m being reasonable and even letting you off,’ leaving others with no way to advance or retreat. To get angry would seem petty, but to step into his trap was unbearable.
Qin Mu stood there with a stiff face. Shen Liu didn’t rush him, quietly waiting.
What was done was done; what’s the point of dwelling on it? Qin Mu thought this and suddenly let go. He took off his bathrobe, pulled up the blanket, and lay down on the outer side.
Shen Liu’s lips curved slightly. He turned off the light and lay down too, tugging half of the double blanket over himself.
In the darkness, their two bare bodies seemed imprisoned in a small enclosed space. Neither of them moved.
After a moment, Shen Liu gave a low chuckle. “Asleep already?”
Qin Mu didn’t answer.
A warm body pressed against his back. The breath near his ear carried the cool scent of mint from mouthwash. Qin Mu ignored him, keeping his eyes closed and pretending to be dead. The man, growing bolder, slipped an arm around his waist. The hand that brushed his skin seemed to carry tiny electric currents—numbing and ticklish. Qin Mu couldn’t stand it anymore. “Sleep on your own side.”
“I’m afraid of the dark,” the man said smoothly, pushing the limits of shamelessness. “I can only sleep while holding something.”
Bullshit, Qin Mu cursed inwardly, gritting his teeth. “Take your hand away.”
“I won’t move. I swear.” Shen Liu rested his forehead against the back of Qin Mu’s head and finally quieted down.
Seeing that he wasn’t misbehaving anymore, Qin Mu curled up slightly. Because of his lack of security, he always slept in a defensive posture. Shen Liu’s embrace felt the same as before; it was disorienting.
Their breathing gradually slowed. As vigilance faded, drowsiness crept in, pulling both of them into a hazy dream. Like two fish swimming upstream, they drifted through the current of time, retracing lost years, rediscovering forgotten memories.
They slept soundly all night.
Driven by his biological clock, Qin Mu woke up first.
The blackout curtains kept the room shrouded in dimness. Even in the dark, the face before him appeared distinct—features well-defined, brows and eyes clear, nose straight, lashes long.
It was said that Shen Liu resembled his mother. Her surname was Xue, and her given name was Ning. The Xue family had once been one of the four great clans of City J, but they chose the wrong side. Over twenty years ago, an investigation had dug up a trove of old crimes—selling state secrets, illegal smuggling, land grabs and profiteering. The family fell apart overnight, never to recover, and their place was soon taken by the rising Shi family.
At the time of the incident, the Shen and Xue families were already connected by marriage. Xue Ning had begged the Shen family for help, but after weighing the situation, Shen Lan chose to withdraw completely. Their relationship was shattered from then on. After the Xue family’s downfall, Xue Ning became the target of mockery from the Shen family’s sisters-in-law and soon fell into a deep depression.
At that time, she was already pregnant. For the sake of his political career and public image, Shen Lan didn’t file for divorce, but his attitude toward her grew colder by the day. This pitiful woman, who had once entered the Shen family bringing her own family’s prestige and wealth, serving as a pawn in consolidating their power, could only watch helplessly as her family collapsed, becoming a ghostly presence trapped in the Shen household, neither seen nor heard.
After long-term treatment, her depression improved. She withdrew to a secluded mountain temple, living as a lay Buddhist, spending her days in vegetarian fasting and chanting, no longer concerning herself with worldly affairs. She even deliberately avoided her son. Later, when Shen Liu grew up and came to understand the reasons behind it all, he rarely disturbed her again, merely sending pastries through servants during holidays to show a token of filial piety.
He had a mother, yet it was as if he had none; he had a father, yet their relationship was distant to the point of absurdity.
When Shen Liu had once told Qin Mu about these family matters, cutting out the unpleasant parts and speaking as if they were trivial gossip, it had only made Qin Mu’s heart ache for him all the more.
In his youth, Shen Liu’s features carried a sharp yet careless contradiction, like a nameless swordsman’s blade hanging askew at his hip, or a proud lone wolf wandering the wild hills. He was unrestrained, cynical, and had a playful attitude towards life. Now, though, he had become more restrained, like a sheathed sword or a mist-shrouded mountain, revealing only a glimpse of his true nature before Qin Mu.
Qin Mu knew he should take the chance to get up while the other man was still asleep, to avoid awkwardness later. But his body didn’t move. His gaze lingered uncontrollably on Shen Liu’s face, tracing it again and again in the dim light, as if trying to etch it permanently into memory.
Suddenly, Shen Liu’s eyelashes fluttered. Qin Mu hurriedly shut his eyes, amused at himself; at his age, why was he still acting like some bashful boy doing foolish things?
Shen Liu wasn’t fully awake yet. Half-dreaming, he stretched out his long arm and drew Qin Mu into his embrace. His breath fell against Qin Mu’s hair, tickling slightly. The intimate posture, the warmth of skin, the strength of his arm, and the lingering scent of body wash—all of it stirred Qin Mu’s thoughts.
He couldn’t help wondering: *Was this how he usually held others when he slept?*
The thought inexplicably irritated him. He gently lifted the arm hooked around his waist to slip away. However, the moment he tried, that arm tightened instantly and pulled him back into his embrace.
Qin Mu: “…”
“Where are you sneaking off to?” Shen Liu asked, eyes half-lidded, his voice lazy with a hint of a nasal drawl.
“It’s morning,” Qin Mu said expressionlessly.
“Is it? The room’s so dark—it must still be early. Stay a little longer.”
Qin Mu narrowed his eyes. “I’m curious about something.”
“Hm?”
“Did you train your face with iron-sand palm?”
Shen Liu laughed, and beneath the blanket, his hand slipped down to press heavily against the cleft of Qin Mu’s lower back. “I’ve trained other parts too. Want to test them again?”
Qin Mu caught his wrist, his cheeks faintly red. Early morning was a dangerous time for accidents, and continuing this would be unwise. Fortunately, Shen Liu had enough sense to stop there.
“What are you planning to do about the Zhao family?” Qin Mu asked, unable to hold back.
“Worried I’ll dine and dash, or that I’ll lose to Zhao Jinchuan?” Shen Liu’s lips curved into a teasing smile.
Qin Mu knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer, so he didn’t press further. Suddenly, Shen Liu leaned in and brushed a light kiss on his forehead. Qin Mu looked up to see him smiling. “We’re old already—no need to act like before.”
It sounded like a joke, but on closer thought, it seemed to carry another meaning. Before Qin Mu could figure out what it was, Shen Liu chuckled and asked, “Want to hug a little longer?”
The arm around him had already loosened.
Qin Mu got up and dressed, deliberately ignoring the unabashed gaze following his every movement. Once dressed, he asked seriously, “What’s for breakfast?”
Shen Liu leaned leisurely against the headboard, the blanket barely covering his waist, his tone once again turning roguish. “Me?”
“Too old. Hard to chew,” Qin Mu replied coolly.
“Then lie down—I’ll do the work. I’ll make sure you’re full.”
Qin Mu shot him a sidelong look, smiling with provocation. “Oh? How many seconds?”
Shen Liu: “…”
As the saying goes, those who live by flirting must one day suffer its bite. Every scoundrel’s words eventually came back to haunt him. The boy who once blushed at a single tease had now grown into someone who could spar shamelessly in return, leaving Shen Liu oddly wistful. With a hint of wounded pride, he surrendered. “What do you want to eat? I’ll have the kitchen make it.”
“Shrimp dumplings. The same as yesterday.”
Shen Liu chuckled. “You really are loyal to what you like.”
During breakfast, the guest ate with calm composure while the host watched with interest—both perfectly content. When Qin Mu finally finished eating, Shen Liu suddenly asked, “Do you want to see Zhao Jinchuan?”
T/N:
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