POTINS Extra 1

At the end of the month, Wen Zhongyi’s exam results came out. The score was just as he had expected—enough to get him into the best university in the area.

Meng Chuan was deeply impressed and made a wish: “Liuyi’s intelligence absolutely has to take after you.”

Wen Zhongyi was leaning against the headboard, playing with Liuyi. Without even looking up, he asked, “How many points did you get on your college entrance exam?”

Meng Chuan’s eyes instinctively drifted away. After thinking for a moment, he replied sincerely, “I forgot.”

“Forgot?” Wen Zhongyi clearly didn’t believe him. He lowered his head and gently pulled Liuyi’s fingers out of his mouth. “I’ll ask your parents later.”

“It’s been years—they probably don’t remember either.” Meng Chuan felt it was time to save face, so he said calmly, “My score was about the same as yours… maybe a little lower.”

Wen Zhongyi seemed determined to expose him. He glanced over and asked, “How much lower?”

“…Just over a hundred points,” Meng Chuan finally confessed after a pause, realizing there was no way around it.

Wen Zhongyi burst out laughing mercilessly. “You call that ‘a little’?”

Meng Chuan looked embarrassed and tried to keep a straight face. “Stop laughing.”

Wen Zhongyi barely managed to suppress his smile, his eyes still brimming with amusement. To throw him a bone, he added, “You may not be good at studying, but you’re great at fighting.”

“Really?” Meng Chuan’s expression relaxed a little, just about to say something when Wen Zhongyi continued, “Because you’re simple-minded and physically strong.”

He said it so seriously it sounded like a compliment. Meng Chuan held back for a few seconds before giving up and shutting Wen Zhongyi’s sharp mouth with a kiss.

Xiao Liuyi stared at them wide-eyed from the side. Meng Chuan reached out to shield his eyes and whispered, “No peeking, kid.”

With his vision suddenly blocked, Liuyi flailed his arms and let out two anxious little whimpers.

Seeing he was about to cry, Meng Chuan quickly moved his hand away.

Wen Zhongyi’s lips were kissed red and moist. He pushed Meng Chuan away, breathing unsteadily. Glancing at the pouty Liuyi, he shot Meng Chuan a glare. “Why’d you go and provoke him?”

Meng Chuan was speechless.

Two seconds later, sure enough, Liuyi started crying.

Under Wen Zhongyi’s reproachful gaze, Meng Chuan quickly picked the baby up to soothe him.

Liuyi’s little nose turned red from crying, fat tears rolling down like beads. Wen Zhongyi felt his heart ache and smacked Meng Chuan lightly. “Can’t even comfort a baby, give him to me.”

“I’m working on it.” Meng Chuan patted Liuyi’s little blanket and rocked him gently.

Liuyi wasn’t even two months old yet, and Meng Chuan already felt his position in the household was in danger.

Wen Zhongyi’s heart was always tied to Xiao Liuyi, spending more time with the baby than with him.

Every time Meng Chuan tried to get intimate with Wen Zhongyi, Liuyi’s cries would inevitably draw him away.

Liuyi cried loudly—like a drawn-out alarm. When he cried at night, it made Meng Chuan’s chest seize up. But every time he saw that face so much like Wen Zhongyi’s, his heart softened again.

This was Wen Zhongyi’s child. Their child.

They stayed at Meng Chuan’s parents’ place for a while, then brought Liuyi back to Grandfather’s house.

Dad had set up a baby crib beside their bed, hung with cute little toys. The wardrobe now held a bunch of baby clothes.

All of them had been carefully picked by Dad—soft and comfortable, gentle on Liuyi’s skin.

At night, Wen Zhongyi slept on the side closest to the crib, facing Liuyi with his back to Meng Chuan. Meng Chuan would hug him from behind, kiss his earlobe, and murmur, “Don’t look at him. He’s already asleep.”

Liuyi lay under a little blanket, breathing soft and even, his tiny fingers curled up by his cheek, looking utterly sweet.

Wen Zhongyi couldn’t get enough of looking at him. His lashes quietly fluttered.

Seeing he was being ignored, Meng Chuan’s hand slipped silently into Wen Zhongyi’s pajamas. When he touched a certain spot, Wen Zhongyi finally acknowledged him.

Since the late stages of pregnancy, they hadn’t done anything more intimate than kissing and touching. Out of concern for Wen Zhongyi’s body, Meng Chuan had endured through wave after wave of rut periods. But this time, he didn’t want to hold back. Even as Wen Zhongyi tried to push his hand away, he didn’t retreat—instead, he doubled down.

Wen Zhongyi’s breathing gradually quickened, and Meng Chuan pinned him down, laying him flat on the bed.

Meng Chuan undressed him. They both kept their voices low, afraid to wake the baby nearby.

The bedroom lights were off, but in the moonlight slipping through the curtains, Meng Chuan could still see the flush on Wen Zhongyi’s face.

His lips were slightly parted, his long lashes damp, eyes full of desire.

Meng Chuan held his legs and gently bit at his gland.

Wen Zhongyi’s elegant neck arched high, letting out an uncontrollable nasal moan.

Under the moonlight, his body was breathtakingly beautiful—like flawless white porcelain. The involuntary sounds he made were like music to Meng Chuan’s ears, stirring a wild desire.

Meng Chuan kneaded that porcelain body roughly, leaving deep, ambiguous marks all over.

Wen Zhongyi, perhaps also starved for too long, unexpectedly cooperated this time.

While Wen Zhongyi was still recovering, Meng Chuan had gone to the hospital to get a vasectomy. Now there were no worries.

The two of them tumbled from the head to the foot of the bed, until Liuyi’s cry finally brought Meng Chuan to a halt.

Wen Zhongyi’s knees were red from rubbing against the sheets. Gasping, he said, “He’s hungry. Go get him.”

Meng Chuan pulled away and went to pick up the baby.

Liuyi was starving, gulping down milk with loud swallows. In the quiet room, the sounds were especially clear. Aside from that, there was another, subtler sound.

Wen Zhongyi sat on Meng Chuan’s lap, nursing Liuyi instead of lying on his side like usual.

He didn’t think it was proper, but he didn’t have the strength to push Meng Chuan away.

After drinking, Liuyi soon fell into a deep sleep. Meng Chuan placed him gently in the crib, then turned and wrapped his arms around Wen Zhongyi’s waist, nuzzling into his neck. “Let’s go one more time.”

Wen Zhongyi was already exhausted. His voice was hoarse. “No more. I want to sleep.”

But Meng Chuan wouldn’t give up, biting at his earlobe and calling him “baby,” insisting on going again.

He had zero credibility. Claimed it was the last time, but he was insatiable—like he wanted to devour Wen Zhongyi whole.

By the end, Wen Zhongyi couldn’t even lift a finger. He didn’t know when he finally passed out.

In his sleep, he vaguely heard Liuyi crying a few more times. Before he even opened his eyes, Meng Chuan had already brought the baby to his arms.

When he fully woke, it was already noon the next day.

Wen Zhongyi opened his eyes, his whole body aching as if it had fallen apart.

Meng Chuan was by the crib playing with the baby. Seeing him wake, he came over and gently asked, “Hungry? Want something to eat?”

One look at his smug, satisfied face and Wen Zhongyi felt annoyed. He closed his eyes and muttered, “I want a shower.”

“I gave you one last night.” Meng Chuan kissed his forehead and said softly, “I cleaned everything up.”

“…”

After lunch, Wen Zhongyi took another nap. Grandfather had taken Liuyi downstairs to play, so he wasn’t disturbed.

Meng Chuan came upstairs after a while and curled up with Wen Zhongyi to nap.

In September, school started, and Meng Chuan went with Wen Zhongyi for registration.

As he had hoped, Wen Zhongyi was accepted into the architecture program, becoming Yang Jiaran’s junior.

Yang Jiaran was now a third-year student and volunteered during orientation day, wearing a red vest and running around helping freshmen move in.

Wen Zhongyi didn’t live on campus. That had been arranged with the school beforehand. He only needed to submit some paperwork and check in before leaving.

It was hot, the sun blinding. Wen Zhongyi wore sunglasses and held a small handheld fan, his fair jaw glowing in the light. He said to Yang Jiaran, “Let’s have lunch together later.”

Yang Jiaran was delighted. “Sure! It’s been so long since we’ve eaten together.”

Meng Chuan had a VIP card for the top floor of the cafeteria and called ahead to book a private room.

There was still some time before lunch, so Yang Jiaran ran off to help again.

Wen Zhongyi and Meng Chuan wandered aimlessly around campus.

The school was bustling and noisy. They walked to the lakeside and sat on a bench.

Wen Zhongyi said he was thirsty. Meng Chuan scanned the area and spotted a vending machine not far away. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Not long after Meng Chuan left, a passing student spotted Wen Zhongyi. After a moment’s hesitation, he gathered his courage and walked over.

Wen Zhongyi was looking down at the lake. When he sensed someone approaching, he thought Meng Chuan had returned. But when he looked up, it was a stranger.

The guy’s eyes lit up. He pulled out his phone and asked eagerly, “Can I add you on WeChat?”

Wen Zhongyi was a bit confused. “Why?”

Before the guy could answer, Meng Chuan came back holding a bottle of water, his face dark as he snapped, “He’s not adding anyone.”

“Huh?” The guy froze, glanced between them, quickly put away his phone, and stammered, “Sorry, sorry…”

He backed away in a hurry and turned to run.

Meng Chuan stood there watching the boy’s retreating back, muttering angrily, “Doesn’t even ask if someone’s taken before trying to get their WeChat. Unbelievable.”

“Why did he want my WeChat?” Wen Zhongyi still hadn’t figured it out. “And why are you so mad?”

Meng Chuan looked down at him.

Wen Zhongyi was wearing a light gray T-shirt and black pants. His long hair was loosely tied behind his ears, with wispy bangs fluttering in the breeze. His features were clear and elegant—he really did look like a twenty-something college student.

No one would guess he was already a father.

And had given birth himself.

A wave of insecurity washed over Meng Chuan. He sat down, put his arm around Wen Zhongyi’s shoulders, and said seriously, “That guy had bad intentions. Next time a stranger asks for your WeChat, just say you’re taken and you have a kid. Got it?”

Wen Zhongyi finally understood and said, “Oh, so that’s what that was about.”

Meng Chuan shook his shoulders. “Do you get it now?”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Wen Zhongyi smiled.