Liang Muqiu and Cen Nan didn’t return and stayed in the apartment for the day. All the daily necessities were prepared anyway and they had put out food and water for Edamame before leaving so it didn’t have to worry about starving.
Liang Muqiu opened the wardrobe in the bedroom and found not only pyjamas but also two neat boxes of underwear. He picked up the box on the left, which happened to be his size.
He glanced at Cen Nan inexplicably, “You’re a little perverted.”
Cen Nan calmly turned over old accounts, saying, “I always bought your underwear back in college and you still insisted on saying that they were too small for you.”
Liang Muqiu kicked him and took his pyjamas to the bathroom.
Night fell and after seven years, the two of them lay in the same bedroom once more.
This feeling was very delicate.
It was familiar but also strange.
Screenwriter Liang thought for a while. Based on the scripts he usually wrote, he felt it had the atmosphere of a wedding night, with flowers and candles in the bridal chamber.
He couldn’t help but chuckle.
Cen Nan took him into his arms and asked, “Why are you laughing?”
“I was thinking of the day we just moved in. I switched from a high school student to a college student and moved in all my belongings.” Liang Muqiu’s words contained a smile. “I remember bringing my stereo set, the one I bought with my scholarship money and placed it in the study. You brought several digital cameras with you, but I never saw you use them. Then next year, I sold them all to my younger juniors at a low price.”
He thought about it and kicked Cen Nan under the quilt again. “Extravagant and wasteful since childhood.”
He naturally said this with a reason to back him up. In high school, Cen Nan showed a luxurious and indulgent style, completely unaware of what human suffering was.
He probably never understood hardship and simplicity.
Cen Nan easily held his waist. “But didn’t I leave all the finances to you? The money from stock trading, financial planning packages, scholarships, and extracurricular projects were all surrendered. Except for pocket money for cigarettes, everything else was gone.”
Liang Muqiu thought about it and laughed again.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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But without Cen Nan, his happiness seemed to be missing a component, like a puzzle piece forever missing. Only he knew where it was left behind.
Only now, when he and Cen Nan dissected the past that choked their hearts, washed the dark fragments with water and put them back together again, did he feel that he had become whole.
He couldn’t help but hook his arms around Cen Nan’s neck, hiding in his arms as before with his nose rubbing against Cen Nan’s neck affectionately and dependently.
Earlier at dinner, he had drunk some champagne which was originally supposed to have been used during Cen Nan’s confession. He drank a little more, thinking it was nothing at first. But now, the quilt was warm and the alcohol he drank felt like hot air blowing against his hair.
Liang Muqiu’s cheeks were flushed, unclear if it was due to drinking or heat. His lips were soft and always as red as roses. The contours of his lips were beautiful, and even more alluring when he smiled.
His eyes glistened as he looked at Cen Nan as if he was rather drunk and slightly clingy.
From the start, Cen Nan had no intentions of being a gentleman. His fingers reached out and rubbed against Liang Muqiu’s lips. “Do you remember when we first moved in, you brought a velvet blanket saying it was Bohemian style?”
Liang Muqiu’s mind was a little dazed now. “No, I don’t remember.”
Cen Nan was slightly dissatisfied. “How can you not remember,” he leaned closer, their noses touching. His voice was hoarse and deep as he urged, “Wasn’t our first time in this house on that blanket?”
As he spoke, he bit Liang Muqiu’s lower lip and swept the tip of his tongue across his lips.
Sparks crackled in Liang Muqiu’s mind. He instinctively felt it was dangerous and his body retreated.
He finally recalled what Cen Nan was talking about, but it was no wonder he didn’t remember. The blanket was ruined after they messed around. And while it was dark, he hustled Cen Nan to throw the blanket away.
Seeing Cen Nan’s dangerous expression on his face, he quickly stopped him and said, “Don’t think about reliving it. I’m old and weak now, my joints can’t withstand all the tossing.”
He was no longer the youthful twenty-year-old who could still roll around on the cold floor for a whole night.
However, Cen Nan ignored him and leaned over to kiss his lips. Cen Nan was always a bit rough when he was with his lover. A gentleman’s skin can’t be stretched when it comes to bed affairs. He loved to see Liang Muqiu cry and beg for mercy. Even the kisses were full of ferocity.
His hand pressed against Liang Muqiu’s waist, his fingers pushing open the edge of his pyjamas and reaching in. He crossed the thin white back and waistline, before going down all the way.
Liang Muqiu felt like a piece of soft dough being kneaded into various shapes by Cen Nan. The temperature of his palm was so hot that he almost melted.
When Cen Nan’s kiss landed in his ear, he was breathing unevenly. He grabbed Cen Nan’s collar, panting heavily and subtly reminded, “No, I didn’t bring any condoms.”
When he got in Cen Nan’s car today, he didn’t expect this to happen.
Unexpectedly, Cen Nan kissed his neck and looked up at him casually, “I have it, in the bedside drawer.”
Liang Muqiu: “…”
Cen Nan brazenly stated, “Since we’re going to reproduce the layout of the apartment, it must be the same as that year.”
At that time, their bedside table was filled with a variety of things, and young and energetic college students were like cats in heat, unable to withstand even a bit of teasing.
Liang Muqiu finally couldn’t bear it anymore and cursed, “You’re a pervert!”
But now it was too late to talk about the pervert. Back when he could have escaped ten years ago, he failed to come to his senses and dizzily planted himself into the current trap.
The light-coloured silk pyjamas fell from the edge of the bed to the floor, crumpling into a messy pile.
A plain white hand gripped the edge of the bed, stretching and tightening. The fingernails were round and full, turning white due to the exertion and the knuckles were pink, like rouge melting on the white pristine snow.
The palms of the hand were soaked in sweat while the slender fingers clenched onto the sheets. With the amount of force exerted, the deep blue silk faintly protruded between the fingers, resembling undulating mountains.
The room was very dark, but there was the bedside lamp painted with flowers, illuminating the room in a blurry and intoxicating atmosphere.
The shadows on the wall intertwined, blending like a drop of water meeting another.
After an unknown amount of time, the hand beside the bed suddenly relaxed and dangled from the edge of the bed.
The slender white arms, complemented by the dark sheets, were as finely carved as white jade but the wrists were adorned with marks the colour of peach blossoms, both ambiguous and embarrassing.
The slender fingers were completely powerless, hanging weakly, with even the fingertips covered in powder as if they had been lightly bitten between their lips.
Liang Muqiu was so tired that he fell asleep.
The curtains in the bedroom were drawn, but a gap was left in the middle and stars could be seen all over the sky.
In the starlight, Cen Nan looked down at Liang Muqiu.
He pinched Liang Muqiu’s right hand, his fingers brushing over his ring finger before interlocking them. His hands were slightly larger than Liang Muqiu’s, just enough to wrap around him.
He recalled that his grandmother, at the end of her life, had poor memory and was not clear-headed. She told him the story of her encounter with his grandfather over and over again.
His grandfather, who was originally of Chinese descent, went back to China once by chance and fell in love with her when she was only eighteen years old. He rashly bought a garland of flowers to gift her and since then, they had settled in this land where his blood flows.
She recounted cheerfully, “He’s a fake foreign devil who doesn’t understand poetry at all. He just reads a few lines, either about holding his son’s hand and growing old with him, or willing to stay with virtue hand in hand.”
However, her lover didn’t join hands with her to grow old together. Twenty years ago, he passed away, leaving her alone with a head full of white hair.
So she looked up again and said, “Cen Nan, you need to grow old together with the person you like.”
Cen Nan lowered his eyes and kissed Liang Muqiu’s finger again.
He will.
Author’s notes:
I originally wanted to use Qiuqiu’s words when he scolded Cen Nan as the chapter title – “You pervert!”
Thank You for the new chapter ｡✰✧(♡´❍`♡)✧✰｡
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