Chapter 22

Qi Liangqin felt an emptiness in his embrace.

In truth, it had been empty for decades. He had never thought much of it before, but now, that emptiness suddenly felt unbearable. He wanted to hold something—something to fill the hollow space in his heart.

Sometimes, what truly torments a person is not the kind of fiery, explicit desire that is easy to recognize, but rather something subtler—like a hug, like a kiss—something that could ease the loneliness within.

He longed to hold the one he loved.

But he had no such person.

And the one he wanted to embrace—was this man named Yan Bozong.

Back at the house, he had to wait for Yan Songwei to finish showering before he could take his turn. Standing by the window, he gazed toward the other side.

Because it was daytime, the scene across the way was hazy, not fully visible. But he could vaguely make out Yan Bozong stripping off his clothes, his tall figure walking boldly toward the bathroom before disappearing from sight.

Qi Liangqin lowered his head, his fingers clenching into a fist.

Why was it that humans could never resist their own desires?

Why did the heart become so fragile in the face of temptation?

In the end, he was just another man ruled by his lower instincts.

For years, he had prided himself on his restraint and purity, convinced that he had remained a virtuous old virgin. But in reality, he was no different from those so-called seductive vixens. No—he was worse.

More desperate.

More depraved.

He had been nothing more than a frog at the bottom of a well, refusing to climb out and witness the decadent pleasures of the world. But now, he had been forced out—and even the most ordinary sights dazzled and consumed him.

"You can go wash now," Yan Songwei said as he stepped out of the bathroom, towel in hand.

But then he noticed something unusual.

Qi Liangqin stood there with his head down, his face slightly flushed. But there was no joy in his expression—only confusion, a quiet sorrow that weighed down his entire being.

"Hey," Yan Songwei called again.

Only then did Qi Liangqin lift his head. Without a word, he turned and walked toward the bathroom.

"What's wrong with you?"

Yan Songwei frowned.

"Nothing," Qi Liangqin replied, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Yan Songwei followed, but when he tried to push the door open, he found it locked.

He let out a chuckle and called out loudly, "I don't even lock the door when I shower—what, are you that scared of me looking?"

Qi Liangqin took an unusually long time in the shower this time. By the time he came out, his expression had returned to normal.

His figure was slender and tall, and every time he stepped out of the bathroom, he carried a fresh yet alluring air about him. His damp hair clung to one side of his face, partially covering his eye, while his lips were tinged with a faint flush. He looked both youthful and sensual, as if he had just engaged in something unspeakable.

"You're still here?" He was a little surprised to see Yan Songwei sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs.

"You sure took your sweet time in there," Yan Songwei said, smirking. "Must've been busy with something, huh?"

Noticing the teasing look in Yan Songwei's eyes, Qi Liangqin unexpectedly felt a little embarrassed. He put on a serious face and muttered, "Nonsense."

"I'm not talking nonsense," Yan Songwei countered. "I heard you."

He then deliberately imitated the deep, guttural sound a man might make at the peak of pleasure—exaggerated and laced with mischief: "Ugh…"

But before he could finish, there was a sudden knock at the door—just two sharp raps, and then silence.

Whoever it was must have heard Yan Songwei's voice and hesitated, stopping in their tracks.

Yan Songwei immediately jumped to his feet. "Who is it?"

"Uh… Dinner's ready. Madam asked me to call you both," came the voice from outside.

An awkward silence followed.

Yan Songwei glanced at Qi Liangqin, who also looked a little embarrassed.

Then Aunt Chun suddenly let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she turned to leave for the kitchen.

At the dining table, Yan Yuan, Yan Bozong, and Madam Yan were already seated.

Seeing Aunt Chun smiling, Yan Yuan asked, "What's so funny?"

Walking closer, Aunt Chun lowered her voice and said, "Ah, it's my fault. I'm too used to calling them for meals like before—I forgot that Songwei is a married man now. Those two were… busy."

She covered her mouth, laughing with amusement. The fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened slightly, as if she were a bit embarrassed as well.

Hearing this, Yan Yuan couldn't help but laugh too. "Really?"

"It's normal for newlyweds," Madam Yan commented. "Just leave them be next time. If they eat, they eat. If they don't, that's on them. No need to keep calling them like they're royalty."

Just as she finished speaking, the bedroom door finally opened.

Yan Songwei and Qi Liangqin stepped out, and Qi Liangqin was still buttoning up his shirt.

Yan Songwei seemed a little awkward as he smiled at Aunt Chun and asked, "Aunt Chun, what's for dinner? I could smell it from a mile away."

"Steamed buns, chive-filled. Second Brother, come eat more—chives are good for you."

Yan Songwei pulled out a chair and sat down, reaching out to knock Yan Yuan on the head. "You little rascal, can't you behave for once?"

"You're a married man now. Can't you be a little more composed?" Madam Yan said. "Didn't you just go play ball with your brother? Still have energy left?"

Yan Songwei was a fair-skinned man, and at her words, his face turned slightly red. "I knew Aunt Chun would gossip. She misheard—it was just fooling around. Who still has the energy for anything else after playing ball to the point of exhaustion?"

Qi Liangqin sat beside him. Since he knew exactly what they were implying, he felt even more embarrassed. Unlike Yan Songwei, he found such topics much harder to handle.

"Liangqin, you should eat more too," Yan Yuan teased, noticing his discomfort.

Feeling flustered, Qi Liangqin quickly picked up a bun to eat, hoping to move past this conversation. But as soon as he took a bite, the heat jolted through him. He wanted to spit it out, but seeing Madam Yan, he forced himself to endure it. His mouth hung open as he gasped for air, trying to cool the burning sensation.

Yan Yuan burst out laughing. "Slow down! Burned yourself, didn't you?"

With his tongue pressed against the scorching hot bun, Qi Liangqin could only focus on breathing heavily.

Yan Bozong silently passed him a cup of water. "It's warm."

There was no time to thank him. Qi Liangqin grabbed the cup and took a large gulp. Sure enough, the water was comfortably warm.

Tears welled up in his eyes from the burn.

As Aunt Chun came out carrying millet porridge, she saw his expression and immediately became concerned. "Oh no! These buns just came out of the steamer—they're the hottest! I should've warned you."

"You didn't realize how hot it was yourself?" Madam Yan said in her usual displeased tone. "Burned yourself?"

Qi Liangqin, still blushing, shook his head. "It's fine."

He set down the cup and thanked Yan Bozong.

Yan Songwei, however, put on a stern face. "Stick out your tongue—let me see if you burned it."

Truthfully, he had. His tongue and mouth were still throbbing, and his eyes remained watery from the pain. So he obediently opened his mouth and stuck out a bit of his tongue—a small, rounded tongue with a bright red tip from the burn.

Yan Bozong glanced at it briefly before quickly looking away, almost as if avoiding something. He reached for the cup Qi Liangqin had just placed on the table and took a sip of water.

Only after drinking did he realize that it was the same cup Qi Liangqin had just used. A strange feeling crept up on him, and he hurriedly set it back down. His face remained composed, but his throat moved as he swallowed—sending the warmth deep into his stomach.

Yet he was the only one caught up in this small moment. No one else had noticed.

Yan Yuan grinned and said to Qi Liangqin and Yan Songwei, "Second Brother, I heard saliva is the best remedy for burns."

"Yan Yuan, eat your food," Madam Yan cut in.

Yan Songwei tried to knock Yan Yuan on the head again, but she dodged just in time.

Qi Liangqin said, "It's fine, a little water will help."

As he spoke, he reached for the cup of water, only to realize it was no longer in front of him. Instead, it had ended up by Yan Bozong's side. From the looks of it, Yan Bozong had already taken a big sip.

Yan Bozong was eating a bun when he noticed Qi Liangqin searching for the cup. Without a change in expression, he silently pushed it back across the table. His gaze flickered—almost as if he was looking at Qi Liangqin, yet also as if he wasn't.

Qi Liangqin's heart pounded like a drum, but his face remained impassive as he picked up the cup and took another sip.

Yet, his ears were red.

With a soft gulp, his throat moved, sending the warm water down into his chest.

It felt as if an invisible current was flowing between him and Yan Bozong—a subtle, lingering tension. He could sense the faint trace of something ambiguous in the air, something that made his heart swell with sweetness.

They say the most beautiful part of love is the stage of uncertainty, of lingering tension. Was this what he was experiencing now? Otherwise, why did his heart feel so light, so sweet, as if he had just tasted honey?

He picked up a hot bun with his chopsticks and puffed his cheeks, blowing on it gently.