Chapter 21

Qi Liangqin spent half the night anxiously overthinking the situation. He carefully analyzed Yan Songwei's character in the novel—no matter how he looked at it, the man was a classic playboy archetype. That momentary deviation from his usual behavior… could it really just be the fault of his perky ass?

He had to admit, his peach-shaped butt was lethal to both straight and gay men alike. Maybe it was the inherently androgynous appeal of a perfectly round backside. Or maybe Yan Songwei had simply indulged too much in his daytime debauchery with Tan Qingqing, and the residual lust hadn't entirely faded yet.

Either way, no matter how he analyzed it, Yan Songwei taking an interest in him was not a good thing.

Perhaps the lingering unease left a shadow in his mind because Qi Liangqin woke up unusually early the next morning.

By the time he finished washing up and stepped out of his room, Yan Songwei was just waking up. He sat on the bed, shirtless, his eyes still hazy with sleep, his hair a messy disheveled mop.

Qi Liangqin quickly averted his gaze.

He had always been wary of looking at men's bodies—just like how straight men avoided staring at women's. It wasn't just a matter of self-control; it was an instinctive sense of guilt, as if sneaking a glance would mean he was taking advantage, harboring improper thoughts.

"What time is it?" Yan Songwei asked.

"Six-thirty."

The sky outside was already bright—it looked like another beautiful day. As usual, Qi Liangqin went to the kitchen to check in and helped Aunt Chun pick chives. She was making steamed chive buns today. Madam Yan had become more focused on health as she aged—she no longer enjoyed eating meat and preferred a vegetarian diet. Now that she had more money than she could ever spend, she had returned to a simpler lifestyle, believing it to be healthier.

"You probably don't know this, but all the vegetables we eat at home are homegrown," Aunt Chun said. "More than ten years ago, Madam Yan became very particular about food sources. These days, you can't trust the produce at the markets—too many pesticides and chemical residues. So, she bought a plot of land in the northern suburbs of Nancheng just for growing vegetables and rice. The flour, rice, and seasonal vegetables we eat all come from that land."

"I've heard of that!" Qi Liangqin said excitedly. "I remember reading in the news that some celebrities lease farmland in places like the northeast to grow their own grains. They use only organic fertilizers, all for the sake of health and sustainability."

Aunt Chun nodded. "At first, it was just vegetables, but this year, Madam Yan heard from a friend that even imported meats aren't as good as home-raised livestock. So now, she's planning to set up a farm."

"Huh? But isn't that a lot of work? Can we even eat that much?"

"It's not just for us. Madam Yan thinks long-term—half of it is for the family, and the other half is for business. All the people she knows are rich and extremely health-conscious. They can't do much else in their old age, so they focus on eating well. She figured if she ran an organic farm with completely natural, chemical-free livestock, she could price the meat high, and people would still buy it. What do you think? Madam Yan truly has vision—what started as a pursuit of healthy eating turned into a business opportunity."

As Aunt Chun spoke, she glanced outside. "Those two brothers went to play basketball again. Stop helping me here and go watch them. Remind them to come back early—last time, they got so caught up playing that they had to rush to work without breakfast."

Qi Liangqin had already been thinking about heading over, and when he heard this, he quickly washed his hands and made his way to the backyard court.

The two brothers were still warming up. When they saw him, Yan Songwei called out, "Want to join for a couple of games?"

Qi Liangqin shook his head and started heading to the small spectator stand—only to find the seats wet, likely from a light rain the night before. With nowhere to sit, he remained standing, watching them play.

The match itself wasn't very exciting—Yan Songwei was no match for Yan Bozong. Qi Liangqin grew increasingly frustrated watching the one-sided game and finally called out, "You should've taken that shot earlier instead of driving inside!"

Having just lost a round, Yan Songwei was already out of breath and annoyed. He shot back, "Easy for you to say! If you've got the skills, come play yourself!"

Qi Liangqin had been itching to join in, so the moment he heard this, he ran onto the court. Yan Songwei laughed and looked him up and down. "You? With that small frame? You really want to play?"

"I may be small, but I'm better than you," Qi Liangqin retorted, then turned to Yan Bozong. "Big Brother, I can't take you one-on-one, but how about two-on-one?"

Yan Bozong gave him a skeptical look. No one had ever really seen Qi Liangqin as much of an athlete—they assumed he was just the quiet type who sat on the sidelines.

But after a moment, Yan Bozong nodded. "Alright."

However, the moment Qi Liangqin got his hands on the ball, both brothers were stunned. His handling was so smooth—it was clear he was no stranger to the game. Though he was lean and shorter than both of them, he was incredibly agile. His feints were flawless, his movements deceptively quick, and Yan Songwei was so caught off guard that he froze in place, completely forgetting to defend.

Even Yan Bozong was surprised. He had gone easy on Qi Liangqin, but the man effortlessly maneuvered past him and made a clean shot.

Sports had a way of bringing out a person's fire. That successful basket seemed to ignite something in Qi Liangqin. He played with even more enthusiasm, growing more and more comfortable on the court.

He also realized something—he was taller than before. His current body was a few centimeters taller than the one he had in his original world, which made playing even easier. And when he went head-to-head against Yan Bozong, staring into his deep, focused eyes, he couldn't help but feel a surge of uncontrollable excitement.

It was an evenly matched thrill—one that fully ignited Yan Bozong's desire to conquer. Qi Liangqin pushed himself to the limit, giving it his all, and to his own surprise, he actually scored two more baskets than Yan Bozong.

Basketball had always been a passion of his. The rush of movement, the heat of competition—it cleared his mind of all distractions. He no longer paid attention to Yan Bozong's tall, athletic figure. His entire focus was on the ball in his hands. Collision. Jumping.

Realizing he could no longer hold back, Yan Bozong finally got serious. By now, he had a good grasp of Qi Liangqin's skill level, so he stopped going easy on him.

Qi Liangqin was about to take another shot when Yan Bozong jumped up to block him. But as he landed, his foot slipped, and he accidentally knocked Qi Liangqin to the ground.

"You okay?" Yan Bozong asked, panting as he reached out a hand to help him up.

Qi Liangqin wiped the sweat off his face and smiled. "I'm fine!"

With one hand braced against the ground and the other grasping Yan Bozong's outstretched hand, he pulled himself up.

Suddenly, Yan Bozong yanked him forward in one swift motion, pulling him into his arms. His large palm patted his back—a fleeting, unconscious gesture.

But that brief contact was enough to awaken the long-forgotten ripples in Qi Liangqin's heart, stirred by the heat and closeness of another person.

It lasted only a second—barely that. A mindless action, pulling him in and then letting go, all within a single heartbeat.

Yet in that split second, Qi Liangqin felt as if time had stretched infinitely. He could break down that embrace into countless 0.01-second fragments—the precise moment Yan Bozong's hand gripped his shoulder, the undeniable strength in the pull that left no room for resistance, the impact of their bodies colliding, the sharp definition of Yan Bozong's muscles pressing against his chest, warm and damp with sweat. He could feel the powerful thud of Yan Bozong's heartbeat, steady and strong, pulsing in sync with his own.

So this… is what it feels like to be held.

A warmth spread through him, catching him off guard. It wasn't desire. It was something even more absurd—something that almost made him laugh at himself.

It was… moving. A strange, bittersweet warmth, as if this were the first time in his life he had ever been held by a man.

Did this even count as a hug? He didn't know. But now he understood—this was what it felt like.

For a fleeting moment, he wanted to hold onto Yan Bozong's arm, to stop him from letting go. But he couldn't.

This brief embrace left him wanting more. It awakened a hunger for something he couldn't name, a yearning for the simple act of being held again.

There was no need for anything else-no kisses, no intimacy.

Just a simple embrace.

To hold the person he loved tightly in his arms, to feel their bodies pressed together, to

experience the joy of a soul finding its anchor.

But before he could savor this sweetness, before his tongue could fully taste it, Yan Bozong had already pried his lips open and taken it away.

Yet the lingering taste remained-dissolving on his tongue, seeping into his senses, spreading through his entire being until even his soul was steeped in that intoxicating sweetness.

He was utterly captivated.

His heartbeat pounded so loudly it was

deafening. Fortunately, his already flushed face -from the heat and exertion-masked his embarrassment.

Yan Songwei clapped his hands together and said, "Looks like it's about time. Let's head back. We can play again tomorrow."

Yan Bozong nodded, walking over to pick up the basketball. Yan Songwei threw an arm around Qi Liangqin's shoulders and grinned.

"Not bad, huh? Who would've thought? I always figured you were just the delicate, quiet type."

Qi Liangqin was still lost in the remnants of that hug, barely processing what was being

said. He just kept grinning foolishly as he turned to glance at Yan Bozong-only to freeze.

Dripping with sweat,Yan Bozong had casually pulled off his shirt, revealing his sculpted upper body.

The novel had described Yan Bozong's physique in painstaking detail.Qi Liangqin knew it well enough that he could envision it with his eyes closed.

But knowing was one thing-seeing it up close, in the flesh, was another.

Even though he was familiar with every defined muscle, every strand of hair, the reality of Yan Bozong's presence still sent a thrill through his veins.

For the first time in his life, he was seeing Yan Bozong's body this clearly, this intimately.

The sweat-drenched torso, lean yet powerful, exuding raw masculinity. Perfectly proportioned muscles-neither overly bulky nor too slender. Even his skin tone was flawless, neither too pale nor too dark.

And then there was the subtle line of hair

trailing from his navel downward, not too much, not too little, just enough to accentuate the cut of his V-line, competing with his abs and chest for attention.

This was the allure of a fully grown man.

Qi Liangqin swallowed hard.

Then, just as his mind threatened to

short-circuit, his foot caught on something-

With a loud thud, he tripped and fell flat on his face.