Young and beautiful people often have no sense of self-preservation, unaware of the level of attraction they pose to others. They come forward even under the guise of being perverse.
Peering from the shadows, they are drawn in, unable to resist.
“What do you want?”
Struggling in vain, Yan Chuan stepped on the feet of the person covering their face. He exerted just enough force to step on the toes, and indeed he heard a muffled grunt from behind.
In the chaos, his soft foot came into contact with the other’s strong calf, and the hard muscle felt painful, but he was still not released.
In fact, the grip tightened, pulling him closer by his waist.
The other person was very strong; their arms were much thicker than Yan Chuan’s. They easily subdued his resistance, and in the process, even tugged at his bath towel.
The bath towel was loosely wrapped around him; one tug would make it fall off.
Yan Chuan felt anxious and angry, fearing the towel would slip. He raised his voice slightly and cursed, “Shan Qi! Are you a pervert?”
“Get your hands off me!”
“How do you know it’s me?”
After Yan Chuan called out the name, the person behind him was silent for a few seconds before speaking. Their tone was deep, no longer lazy.
At the same time, they released their grip.
Yan Chuan finally broke free from the large hand that had been covering his eyes. He quickly turned his back, wrapped the bath towel tighter around himself, and then turned to look at him.
Shan Qi was wearing a black short-sleeve shirt, clinging wetly to his body. The defined lines of his muscles stood out prominently, a large bulge evident. He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed intently on Yan Chuan.
The tattoo behind his ear appeared clearer due to being wet, making him seem even more rebellious.
His intrusion mirrored that demeanour.
Pervert.
Yan Chuan avoided Shan Qi’s fiery gaze and turned off the shower.
The sound of running water finally ceased, and he wiped the beads of water off his face.
Once he confirmed it was a person, Yan Chuan’s fear dissipated. He calmly looked up at Shan Qi.
His hair was still damp, hanging behind him, which accentuated his delicate, fair skin. The slight blush on his cheeks was very noticeable.
Water droplets clung to his long, curling lashes, making his eyes shine brightly due to the glistening sheen. His lips, a vivid red, were pursed in obvious displeasure.
He looked vibrant and alluring.
Shan Qi’s heart raced.
He had known from their first meeting that Yan Chuan was exceptionally good-looking, possessing a captivating beauty that, surprisingly, became even more enchanting when wet.
His porcelain white cheeks were glistening, lips vibrant, and his almond-shaped eyes slightly tilted. There was a hint of annoyance in his depths, and his lashes fluttered.
Water droplets flowed down his slender neck and disappeared into the bath towel.
Beneath was skin even whiter and softer, proportioned perfectly, with a waistline so slim that it made one want to reach out and grab it.
Shan Qi couldn’t help but swallow hard.
He had touched it earlier and knew how delicate the skin was, smooth like satin, soft and inviting to the touch.
So soft and plush, curled in a bundle. Even the soles of his feet were soft.
How could someone be this soft?
When he first arrived, Shan Qi had felt some resistance, unsure why the escape variety show had assigned him the role of a lover, along with such sub-plots.
But now…
Shan Qi recalled the sensation of Yan Chuan stepping on him, the few steps taken in anger didn’t exert much force; it was instead Shan Qi who gasped at the unexpected touch.
Surely, he must have hurt Yan Chuan. Shan Qi trained regularly and knew how hard his body was; Yan Chuan must have felt it.
Usually, Shan Qi would think the other was too delicate, not the kind someone could easily interact with.
Yet now, faced with Yan Chuan, he was uncontrollably curious to see if there was any injury. Deep inside, he felt strange for wanting to check someone else’s feet, someone who had stepped on him.
When did he become a pervert?
Shan Qi’s expression suddenly became cryptic.
“You’re the only one who’s so dull,” Yan Chuan stated clearly. “Besides, among the participants, there aren’t many as tall as you; Tang Zhen’s figure isn’t like yours either.”
Once he determined it was a participant, the suspects became limited.
When encountering a participant, the motive was clear—most likely a task.
After all, they were there to perform tasks on an escape variety show, not to play house.
Listening to Yan Chuan’s analysis, Shan Qi offered no comment, only smirking slightly: “Didn’t expect you to know me so well.”
However, he furrowed his brow when Yan Chuan mentioned the name of another man: “Tang Zhen is not taller than me.”
Why does he still remember what other men look like?
What’s so great about someone who always smiles and treats everyone alike, like central heating?
Yan Chuan had no desire to debate who was taller, his fair fingers pointing outward: “I need to change clothes; you should turn around first.”
He did not ask Shan Qi to leave; Shan Qi raised an eyebrow, seemingly thinking of something: “Okay.”
Shan Qi turned around obediently.
Only then did Yan Chuan feel relieved.
But he faced another dilemma; with Shan Qi’s large frame blocking the small bathroom and the plastic bag of clothes hanging outside, he couldn’t reach it at all now.
Yan Chuan gazed at Shan Qi’s damp back.
“Shan Qi,” after receiving an “mm” in response, he instructed casually: “My clothes are out there; can you grab them?”
The tall figure paused slightly, then indeed obediently went to fetch it.
“This one?” The neatly folded dress and fitted clothes were handed over, looking rather comical in Shan Qi’s big, tan hands.
Perhaps due to the steam not dissipating, his voice came out a bit hoarse.
Yan Chuan nodded: “You can turn around now.”
He naturally didn’t notice Shan Qi’s hesitation and had no intention of paying attention to the sudden reddening tips of his ears.
However, Shan Qi’s skin was a bit darker, it wouldn’t be easy to see if he blushed.
“You’re wearing this?” Shan Qi hesitated, still unable to resist asking, “The one in your hand?”
This triangular piece, thin and sheer, could be crumpled into a small ball in his hand.