Ye Linyuan fed him a few strawberries and cherries. He lowered his eyes, looking at Tong Sui’s lips stained red with juice, and casually remarked, “But I have an owner. My owner’s name is Tong Sui.”
“Cough, cough, cough—”
The young cat nearly choked, looking at him with misty eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m not talking nonsense.”
Ye Linyuan lowered his head and swallowed the half strawberry he hadn’t finished, chewing it slowly as if savoring a delicacy. Tong Sui’s face turned red at the sight.
Wasn’t it permissible to take a new strawberry instead of eating one that he had touched before?
After Ye Linyuan finished, he licked his lips with relish and glanced at the white apron tied around Tong Sui’s waist. “A little cat that can cook?”
“I can’t cook…”
Tong Sui felt embarrassed; he simply couldn’t cook, not even washing vegetables, with zero survival skills.
“Then why are you wearing an apron?” Ye Linyuan loosened the bow at the back of the apron. “That will lead to misunderstandings.”
“Oh, oh, then take it off.”
Tong Sui innocently looked at his hand, and with a gentle tug, the bow came undone. The apron was so small that it seemed even smaller in Ye Linyuan’s hands. The outfit Tong Sui had chosen was made of semi-transparent black gauze, and without the small apron around his waist, it felt exposed.
He looked down and instantly his cheeks turned crimson.
“Just give it back to me,” Tong Sui said, reaching for the small apron.
Ye Linyuan raised his arm. “Are you backing out so soon?”
Too high.
Tong Sui tried to stand to grab it but was held down by Ye Linyuan’s hand on his shoulder. “Are you going to be a spoiled little cat?”
Ye Linyuan’s warm breath brushed against Tong Sui’s face and neck, carrying a faint fruity scent. His snowy white skin turned a deeper shade of red.
Tong Sui watched as Ye Linyuan’s fingers tightened, crumpling the apron into a ball and tossing it casually on the ground.
When Tong Sui averted his gaze, he noticed Ye Linyuan’s intense stare fixed on his face. He anxiously bit his lip, noticing a shiny glaze had settled on his flushed lips.
Ye Linyuan hoarsely asked, “Does your waist still hurt?”
Tong Sui shook his head. The ointment Ye Linyuan applied was very effective, and by the next day, his waist was no longer in pain.
Suddenly, Tong Sui found his chin being lifted, and he received a heavy kiss on the lips, devoid of any pity, like a hungry wolf. “I forgot to tell you, eating my food comes at a cost.”
After leaving the special care ward, Tong Sui hadn’t been kissed like this before. He quickly surrendered, feeling overwhelmed.
Tong Sui’s cat ears, straightened by Ye Linyuan, got misaligned again, but this time, no one noticed. It wasn’t until Ye Linyuan released the breathless Tong Sui and adjusted his fluffy cat ears that he chuckled, “Have you forgotten what you said before?”
Tong Sui’s mind went blank. “What?”
“You said you would take the initiative next time,” Ye Linyuan added with a hint of playful amusement. “The opportunity is yours now, little cat.”
Tong Sui’s ears turned blood red. He had been kissed into a daze, relying on Ye Linyuan’s shoulder for support, his pale feet resting on the plush blanket. He gazed at Ye Linyuan, who sat quietly on the bed, seemingly helpless like a small kitten faced with a giant fish in a pond.
…
Tong Sui hesitated for a while but ultimately opened his arms toward him.
“…You aren’t helping at all.”
…
Eventually, Tong Sui heard the continuous ringing of bells and tried to reach for the choker around his neck.
It was pressed down by a hand.
“Don’t take it off,” Ye Linyuan said. “I like the sound of the bells.”
The author has something to say: Director Ye is so lucky.