ACMS 12

Chapter 12 – We’re All Adults Here

After Qiao Le said, “I don’t have any money,” the room went frighteningly quiet.

He had left in such a rush last night that his bag was still at the bar. Thankfully, he hadn’t brought the money with him—otherwise, if he’d actually pulled out cash just now, that would’ve made things even more awkward.

It would’ve looked like he was trying to settle the bill afterward.

Shen Hechuan’s silence made Qiao Le realize he’d said something wrong. Just as he was about to explain, he heard Shen Hechuan say,

“So what if you did have money? You planning to split the hotel bill with me? Like that pizza last time?”

Qiao Le: “…That’s not what I meant.”

“I didn’t mean it that way either.”

Shen Hechuan paused briefly, then continued,

“What happened yesterday was an accident. Neither of us expected it. But regardless, you don’t have to apologize. I wasn’t the one who got taken advantage of here.”

In fact, it was Qiao Le who had suffered more.

Because last night, Qiao Le hadn’t been in a completely conscious state. Shen Hechuan, on the other hand, had been. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve refused Qiao Le—he could’ve restrained him even. But he didn’t.

In the bathroom last night, with the shower pouring down, Qiao Le had looked helpless and vulnerable. The way his soaked shirt clung to his body outlined his slender, supple waist—unintentionally seductive. Shen Hechuan had been ruled by sensation and hadn’t pushed him away.

The water drenched both their clothes… and washed away his self-control.

All things considered, he wasn’t much different from those men who slipped room keys into Qiao Le’s hand. In the end, he was the one who took advantage.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” He looked at Qiao Le. “You’re the one who lost out here.”

Qiao Le understood what he meant—but didn’t agree.

“I don’t think I lost anything. It’s not like I’ll get pregnant.”

Shen Hechuan: “…”

Well, he’s pretty open-minded.

Qiao Le thought for a moment, then said,

“Or we could look at it this way: I lost control first, and then you did. So we’re even, right?”

Shen Hechuan: “…”

That actually… makes sense.

Qiao Le couldn’t guess what he was really thinking, so he reassured him,

“Don’t worry, Mr. Shen. I won’t say anything. We’re all adults here—once I walk out that door, I’ll forget everything that happened.”

“Shen Hechuan.”

Qiao Le: “Hm?”

“No need to keep calling me ‘Mr. Shen.’ Just call me Shen Hechuan.”

As the saying goes: the second time’s always easier than the first. Since they’d already ended up in bed together, there was no need to make a fuss over a name. Qiao Le didn’t hesitate and said,

“Alright, Shen Hechuan.” Then added, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll head out?”

Shen Hechuan asked,

“What are you going to do about this? Do you remember who it was?”

He was referring to the drugging incident.

“Yeah,” Qiao Le nodded. He remembered the moment he started feeling off last night, and also recalled which table he’d been drinking at before that. But for the full picture, he’d have to go back and check the surveillance footage.

“Need my help?” Shen Hechuan asked.

It didn’t surprise Qiao Le that he’d offer—after all, Shen Hechuan was just a kind person in his eyes. But he replied,

“Not for now. I can handle it myself. If I need anything, I’ll reach out to you.”

“And how exactly would you reach me?” Shen Hechuan asked.

“Huh?”

Shen Hechuan picked up his phone, opened WeChat, and pulled up his QR code.

“Add me.”

The last time he’d shown this code, it was to transfer money.

Right—they still weren’t WeChat friends.

Qiao Le suddenly realized, patting his pockets and not finding his phone. Then it hit him—he was wearing Shen Hechuan’s clothes.

He remembered having his phone with him yesterday. After things went south, he’d tried calling Fang Jiaxu for help, but the call didn’t go through—then he ran into Shen Hechuan.

“My phone… I think I lost it,” Qiao Le said uncertainly. “I remember bringing it with me. In my clothes—”

“It’s not in your clothes.”

Shen Hechuan had been the one to take them off—he’d know.

“It probably fell in my car. Let me check—”

He paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on Qiao Le.

“Do you need to rest a bit more?”

Rest a bit more? That was clearly referring to his body.

“No need! I’m not that tired!” Qiao Le shot back instantly.

Shen Hechuan: “…”

That sounded… a little like he was saying you’re not that impressive anyway.

Qiao Le pointed toward the bathroom.

“My clothes…?”

“Someone will take care of them. I’ll have them sent back to you later.”

That was fine.

As the two walked out, Shen Hechuan opened the door and asked if Qiao Le wanted to get some breakfast downstairs. Qiao Le, thinking about his phone, said he wasn’t hungry.

Shen Hechuan didn’t push it. As he closed the door behind them, they ran into someone coming out of the room across the hall.

The woman was surprised to see him.

“Shen Hechuan?”

Qiao Le looked over at the voice. The woman’s gaze landed on him as well—and both of them froze.

He remembered her—she was the woman with Shen Hechuan at the café.

No one expected to run into each other here. For a moment, no one spoke. Eventually, Shen Hechuan gave a polite nod and said,

“Hello, Miss Cheng.”

Cheng Jiarong’s eyes shifted between them. Her gaze swept over Qiao Le’s oversized shirt, then settled on the red mark at Shen Hechuan’s throat.

She still vividly remembered what had happened at the café. Now, she looked at the two of them meaningfully.

“Looks like your relationship wasn’t affected by me after all. That’s a relief.”

Qiao Le realized she’d misunderstood and tried to explain:

“We—”

“I know,” Cheng Jiarong cut in. “You’re insanely in love.”

Qiao Le: “…”

So this is what they mean when a boomerang hits you in the face.

“How old are you?” Cheng Jiarong suddenly asked him.

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” She clicked her tongue, then turned to Shen Hechuan.

“Aunt Lan told me you didn’t want to lead me on because I was too young. But your boyfriend’s even younger than me. Didn’t see that coming.”

Shen Hechuan: “…”

The “too young” excuse had just been a way to dodge pressure from his family—he hadn’t expected to have to explain it. But coming from the actual “too young” person, the comment had another layer to it.

Still, he didn’t take it too seriously. He was more focused on one thing—Qiao Le’s age.

Nineteen.

Not even twenty. Thirteen years younger than him.

“Miss Cheng, this is a private matter,” Shen Hechuan said calmly.

Cheng Jiarong shrugged.

“I’m not trying to interfere.”

It’s just that after the café incident, Wu Huilan had even called her to explain that it was all a misunderstanding—that Shen Hechuan wasn’t seeing anyone.

Now she caught him walking out of a hotel room with someone.

Wearing his clothes. With visible kiss marks.

Clearly, they’d spent the night together.

Shen Hechuan really has no conscience, she thought.

“Dating a boy that young and still won’t admit it. Shameless.” She rolled her eyes.

Qiao Le had wanted to clarify that he wasn’t Shen Hechuan’s boyfriend, but hearing her ridicule Shen Hechuan made him annoyed. He wrapped his arm around Shen Hechuan’s and said,

“Not necessarily. What if it’s the younger one eating up the older one?”

Shen Hechuan: “…”

Cheng Jiarong: “…”

Shen Hechuan wanted to say he wasn’t that old—but being defended felt kind of nice, so he said nothing.

“Ailsa.”

Another woman came out of Cheng Jiarong’s room, dragging a suitcase.

“Ran into someone you know?”

“Just a friend,” Cheng Jiarong replied with a smile.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the airport.”

Before leaving, she glanced at Qiao Le and said,

“Watch yourself. He won’t even acknowledge you publicly—what kind of heart do you think he has?”

After she left, Qiao Le let go of Shen Hechuan’s arm.

“Sorry, that was just on impulse. Don’t take it the wrong way.”

Shen Hechuan glanced at the arm Qiao Le had grabbed.

“You’re not wrong.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

He turned toward the elevators, lips curling into a faint smile.

Once Qiao Le figured out what he meant, the flush that had finally faded on his face came rushing back.

Whether it was an older bull eating tender grass or tender grass chewing on an older bull—

One way or another, someone got eaten.

—

Qiao Le’s phone was in Shen Hechuan’s car.

There were two missed calls from Fang Jiaxu, and several unread WeChat messages:

[Fang Jiaxu: I was driving earlier. Why didn’t you pick up? Still busy?]

[Fang Jiaxu: Xiao Man’s being really good—don’t worry.]

[Fang Jiaxu: We just got home. The little guy’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open.]

Fang Jiaxu: [Photo][Photo]

The last two were pictures of Qiao Man asleep.

Qiao Le saved them, then messaged back saying he’d come over.

The bar owner was a friend of Fang Jiaxu’s. It’d be easier to deal with some things with him involved.

When Shen Hechuan heard Qiao Le was heading over, he opened the car door.

“Where to? I’ll drive you.”

Qiao Le wasn’t injured, but he was genuinely exhausted. He didn’t turn down the offer and gave him Fang Jiaxu’s address.

Shen Hechuan adjusted the seat so he’d be more comfortable.

Halfway there, Shen Hechuan pulled into a pharmacy without saying anything. Qiao Le didn’t ask—he quietly waited in the car.

When he came back, he handed Qiao Le a bag.

Inside were two tubes of ointment.

“Anti-inflammatory and anti-swelling.”

“….”

The bag felt like it was burning in Qiao Le’s hands. His face heated up again.

“Instructions are on the label.”

“…Okay.”

I can read them myself—please stop talking.

Qiao Le fidgeted with the box, wondering how exactly Shen Hechuan had phrased things when he bought it.

He peeked at Shen Hechuan from the corner of his eye.

The man kept his gaze on the road, completely calm.

Qiao Le quietly adjusted the air vent to blow in his direction.

—

When they arrived at Fang Jiaxu’s neighborhood, Qiao Le had him stop by the curb and got out, walking around to the other side. Shen Hechuan rolled down the window.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.”

Shen Hechuan added, “If anything comes up, call me.”

“Okay.”

As they were talking, neither noticed that just outside a breakfast shop nearby, Fang Jiaxu and Qiao Man had spotted them.

It was Saturday, and school was out. Fang Jiaxu had brought Qiao Man out for breakfast.

As soon as he saw Qiao Le, he tapped Qiao Man.

“Xiao Man, your big brother’s back.”

“Big brother?!” Qiao Man’s eyes lit up. “Where?!”

Fang Jiaxu pointed at Qiao Le—just as Shen Hechuan stepped out of the car to stop him from leaving.

He didn’t catch what they were saying, but he did see Qiao Le wave his hand.

Another admirer?

Fang Jiaxu muttered, “Sweetheart, I think your brother’s in trouble again.”

“Trouble?”

Qiao Man tilted his head, then his eyes lit up.

“I know what to do!”

He dashed over like a gust of wind, charged between them, and declared in a loud, proud voice:

“Daddy!”

Shen Hechuan: “?”

Qiao Le: “…”

Sweetheart, that you don’t need to call him.