EIP 45

Zhou Jun snapped back to his senses, his gaze once again falling on Yong Jin, who was now satisfied. “Do you find them beautiful?”

Zhou Jun curved his lips and asked, “Who is he?” Yong Jin paused, then answered, “Mu Liqing.” Zhou Jun shook his head in slight dissatisfaction and asked again, “Who is he?”

Yong Jin took Zhou Jun’s hand, feeling the warmth left on his palm, and spoke softly. “A member of the Yong family.”

Before Zhou Jun could ask further, Yong Jin added, “When the accident happened, he took the bullet for me.”

Zhou Jun’s fingers trembled and curled slightly, his brow furrowing with unease. He didn’t have the courage to ask again. If he pressed a third time and asked what Mu Liqing meant to him, whether they had ever been involved, it would cross a line he wasn’t sure he could bear. Taking a bullet was a gamble with one’s life, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever have the courage to do the same.

Such deep love, so admirable. Zhou Jun admired Mu Liqing, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t filled with sorrow. Even he could tell how intense Mu Liqing’s affection was. So what about Yong Jin? Did he feel the same?

Zhou Jun instinctively seemed to want to pull his fingers away from Yong Jin’s grasp, but Yong Jin’s palm closed over his hand, not allowing him to retreat.

Yong Jin led him back to the bedroom, and after lying down on the bed, he pulled Zhou Jun up beside him, eager to hold him. Zhou Jun obediently lowered his head, kicked off his shoes, and allowed Yong Jin to pull him into an embrace, settling into his arms.

He lay quietly, lost in thought, wondering if, while he was watching a movie at the cinema, Yong Jin was facing death.

He sat with his date, held her hand, enjoying the movie, while Yong Jin was struck by a bullet. As the female lead sang in the movie, did Yong Jin’s blood seep down his hand? Mu Liqing must have been on top of him, shielding him from the bullet. That moment must have been incredibly shocking, an experience unique to the bond between Yong Jin and Mu Liqing.

He realized that he had missed those moments, and perhaps he would never be able to make Yong Jin feel the same way Mu Liqing had.

Could mere physical attraction truly outweigh a bond forged through life and death? The more he thought, the more tangled his thoughts became, and the more anxious he grew.

Yong Jin had been gently stroking his hair, but perhaps because Zhou Jun had been so quiet, his fingers slowly moved up to his face, lifting his chin just slightly. The emotions Zhou Jun hadn’t yet hidden were laid bare, vulnerable and exposed.

Yong Jin simply looked into his eyes, as if understanding what Zhou Jun was thinking. “Stop overthinking,” he said. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled, a genuinely happy smile. Zhou Jun wasn’t pleased. What was there to laugh about? Noticing his anger, Yong Jin added, “Did you know that just now, your expression looked like an abandoned cat?”

Zhou Jun glared at Yong Jin angrily. “Are you proud of yourself?” Yong Jin coughed lightly. “Not really. It’s just that you weren’t like this before, and I’m a bit surprised.” Zhou Jun picked up on something. “What was I like before?” His tone rose, and his gaze was far from gentle. He almost seemed like a child who needed to be coaxed or he’d be upset. But Yong Jin, unaffected by his emotions, said, “You wanted to keep your distance, as if afraid I’d come looking for you.”

Zhou Jun fell silent. He wondered if Yong Jin thought there was some scheme behind his actions, constantly coming and going, always keeping him on edge. But Yong Jin spoke again, sounding inexplicably smug. “Even if that’s what you’re thinking, you can’t control it, can you? You came on your own. I’ve always known.”

Zhou Jun didn’t want to respond. He crossed his arms, wanting to argue, but was frustrated, thinking that Yong Jin was right. But this person wasn’t without faults either. Look at how he acted when he saw him with Miss Yang. His rage was so intense it couldn’t be soothed. Zhou Jun had never had a lover like Yong Jin, someone so possessive and jealous. He couldn’t even contain his own feelings. If he was angry, he let it show. Luckily, he could still be pacified in the end.

The two leaned against each other, heads resting side by side, hands brushing together. Their fingers intertwined, tight and warm. They both chose to ignore the many unresolved matters between them, letting themselves be lost in the moment. In an unusually good mood, Yong Jin spoke softly, sharing stories of his childhood and his mother. When Zhou Jun heard about his mother, his thoughts immediately turned to the pocket watch.

Yong Jin recalled how, when he was young, his mother would tell him stories. Once, she told him that when you meet someone you like, you would smell the scent of flowers, and even the moon in the sky would feel heavy, descending as the light beneath that person’s steps. That person’s eyes would be like the ocean, and he would notice every detail about them, remembering every word they said. Zhou Jun, feeling a flush rise to his face, shamelessly teased, “So, I look that good in your eyes?”

To his surprise, Yong Jin burst into laughter without mercy, causing Zhou Jun to fume with embarrassment. He almost wanted Yong Jin to admit it was him being described. But how could he, the young master, ever do something so humiliating? He could only pretend to be unfazed. After the laughter died down, Yong Jin’s eyes, as deep as warm wine, settled heavily on Zhou Jun, with a hint of meaning as he said, “At the time, I really thought she was just telling a story.”

Not saying more, he let Zhou Jun continue to guess, secretly enjoying his attempts. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, filling the room with an unusually serene atmosphere. On the nightstand was a bottle of wine, a glass, a vase, and a single rose. Zhou Jun was quite satisfied with these simple details. He picked up the glass and poured some wine, drinking half of it. From across the room, Yong Jin’s voice came. “Give me a glass.” Zhou Jun took a sip, licking his lips, and replied, “There’s none left. I don’t have another glass. This one’s mine.”

Under the warm light, Young Master Zhou smiled softly, his voice light and teasing as he provoked Yong Jin. When he saw Yong Jin’s gaze darken, as though he was about to snatch something away, Zhou Jun hurriedly drank the rest of the wine. Yong Jin certainly came to take it, but instead of the glass, he went for his lips. He pressed Zhou Jun down onto the bed, kissing him, and using his injuries to his advantage, he gripped Zhou Jun’s waist with force. His hand slipped inside Zhou Jun’s open robe, and as he touched, Zhou Jun’s breath came in fits and starts, interrupted by laughter.

The night grew quiet, with just a few stars in the sky. After dinner, Zhou Jun leaned against the second floor of the Yong residence, smoking. His chin rested in his hand, lost in thought. Below, a few soldiers patrolled back and forth. He thought about the last time he had easily snuck into Yong Jin’s room. He must have been incredibly lucky. He noticed the leader of the patrol was walking with a dog, a large, imposing creature that looked quite formidable.

With a flick of his fingers, Zhou Jun brushed off the cigarette ash, and just then, there was a sound behind him. The wounded Yong Jin, still restless, opened the floor-to-ceiling window, took the cigarette from his hand, and instead pressed a piece of candy into his mouth. He squinted his eyes like a cat, stretching lazily at his waist. He let Yong Jin extinguish the cigarette before pulling him back into the room.

The affection between them was thick, a perfect moment in the night. When Zhou Jun finally got up, it was neither too early nor too late, around nine thirty in the morning. The Yong family was probably already awake. From downstairs came the sounds of pruning flowers and sprinkling water, along with the rhythmic sounds of footsteps. Zhou Jun rubbed his face against the pillow, still faintly scented with cold fragrance. No wonder Yong Jin smelled so good. Even the room was filled with that same fragrance, and he quite liked it.

Zhou Jun felt a quiet joy in his heart, smiling as he descended the stairs. He was about to ask someone about Yong Jin’s whereabouts when he noticed a young woman glance at him in sheer panic before quickly lowering her head and rushing off. Zhou Jun snapped out of his daze, the sleepiness of just waking up beginning to fade. He heard a series of knocks echoing from the hall.

Slowly, he walked toward the sound, recognizing the deep, aged voice filled with the authority of someone in power. Zhou Jun’s steps faltered, and instinctively, he thought to turn and leave. But to his surprise, the man had spotted him. With a low, commanding voice, he said, “Stop,” freezing Zhou Jun in his tracks. Suddenly, two soldiers appeared behind him, escorting him toward the man.

As Zhou Jun drew closer, he saw a man who appeared to be in his fifties. He had neatly trimmed facial hair, with streaks of gray at his temples, and sat in a commanding, assertive manner. Dressed in a Zhongshan suit, he held a civil cane, and the sharp thudding sound came from the cane tapping on the floor. Yong Jin, with his back to the man, knelt before him. The man asked, “Who is he?”

The question wasn’t directed at Zhou Jun, but at Yong Jin. Zhou Jun couldn’t see Yong Jin’s expression, but he heard his calm, indifferent voice reply, “An insignificant person.”