Was he saying that he knows Yan Bao but doesn’t know who his husband is?
Something feels off, like a secret lover coming face-to-face with their partner.
Husband: “Your head’s already green; I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“Why does my wife look so pale? Let me comfort her!”
“Pause for a moment; let me comfort you!”
Tang Zhen’s tone was strange, and Yan Chuan should have thought more about it, but he wasn’t feeling well and could only half-heartedly respond, “Is that so?”
He had some doubts in his heart.
Why does this person care about him so much?
Although Yan Chuan was blocked by the man behind him, he could still feel an attentive yet subtle gaze lingering on him.
He couldn’t help but pull his exposed legs closer together and wrap his coat tighter around himself.
Fortunately, Tang Zhen didn’t say much, and soon all the contestants returned to their places. Yan Chuan followed his husband back to their apartment.
The lights in the living room were turned on.
“Your complexion still looks poor,” his husband naturally cupped his chin, leaning in closer to look. “Are you still scared?”
Yan Chuan shook his head. “No.”
He wasn’t particularly timid; after all, since joining the escape variety show, he hadn’t faced anything terrifying directly yet. It was just that being suddenly woken up made him uncomfortable.
Yan Chuan glanced at his “husband.”
Just a moment ago, the man had blocked him behind his back, almost covering his eyes to prevent him from seeing.
The husband’s brows arched slightly, as if he thought Yan Chuan was putting on a brave front.
He didn’t retract his hand, and the two maintained a peculiar position where Yan Chuan was forced to look up, with his chin resting in the man’s palm.
Just a slight glance upward, and he could see his husband frowning, his expression serious as he looked at him.
The man had prominent brow bones and deep-set eyes, and when he lowered his gaze, there was a slightly gloomy and obsessive vibe.
His husband lowered his gaze to outline Yan Chuan’s face with his eyes.
A delicate face with features that were perfectly proportioned. Dark eyebrows and lashes on white skin, soft lips glistening as if he’d just bitten them.
He looked a bit pale, a hint of illness, leading anyone who saw him to feel sympathy. Wearing a thin nightgown and huddling in an oversized coat, he tried to curl up to generate some warmth.
So pitiful.
The hot breath was so close that Yan Chuan’s earlobes turned red as he tried to push him away. “I’m much better now.”
Why was he touching his face? It felt just like the pervert he encountered that night.
The thought of the pervert he met on the first night sent chills down Yan Chuan’s spine.
How could there be a ghost that dared to touch someone’s face in the contestant’s room without doing anything?
“I’m a bit sleepy,” Yan Chuan quickly declared before his husband could say anything, “I’m going to sleep now; you should rest early too.”
He squeezed past his husband and hurried back to the bedroom, remembering to take off his coat and leave it on the sofa.
The husband’s hand lingered in the air, and his gloomy face suddenly broke into a slight smile.
As bedtime approached, the husband lifted another blanket to the side.
Yan Chuan looked at him in confusion.
The husband spoke seriously, as if it was an important matter: “You can’t warm the blanket alone; let’s share one.”
He took Yan Chuan’s cold hand, pressing it against his chest to warm it naturally.
“You shouldn’t have followed me outside,” he said, “It’s cold out, and your hands are so chilly.”
Yan Chuan thought: Thank you for your concern?
But he had to play the role of a gentle wife, so he couldn’t say that to his husband and instead tried to adjust his tone. “I was just worried…”
What he was worried about remained unspoken. After all, his “husband” couldn’t read minds and wouldn’t know if he was worried about him or the other contestants.
Clearly, the husband enjoyed hearing such words; his brows relaxed a bit. “That won’t do, your health isn’t good, so you need to take care.”
He slipped his hand under the blanket and began to stroke Yan Chuan’s calf. The skin there was particularly delicate and soft, unfortunately cold due to the breeze, shrinking pitifully under the blanket.
“Wait!” Yan Chuan suddenly raised his voice, a flush rising on his pale cheeks. “What are you doing?”
What was he reaching for?
He tried to curl up, wrapping his arms around his knees in a defensive posture. But the bed was only so big, and he was still sitting in the middle of it—there was no way to escape.
He could only watch helplessly as his bare feet were pulled out from under the blanket and slightly lifted…
Yan Chuan pressed his lips together, his gaze wandering as he dared not look at the man in front of him.
The husband looked completely normal. “Just warming your feet.”
His large hands now held Yan Chuan’s bare feet, not showing the slightest hint of disgust as he tucked them into his embrace.
The man held Yan Chuan’s bare feet in his palms.
Yan Chuan’s ankles were also delicate, their extreme whiteness a result of years without sunlight, as fragile as jade. The toes were round and white, with a hint of pink.
If one leaned in closely, they could even catch a faint aroma, be it a bodily scent or something else.
Now held in his grasp, the knuckles wrapped around the bridge of his foot. The skin there was especially pale, almost translucent, with tiny blue veins visible.
Set against the husband’s somewhat darker skin, it created an indescribable contrast.
“Damn pervert touching my wife’s feet.”
“Speechless. Where is the morality? Where is the bottom line? Where’s the address? I want to join too!”
“What is this? My wife’s feet look so white and small; just a little taste!”
“Dear Yan Bao, we’ve known each other for so long; can I make a request? You’ll definitely agree, right? After all, you’re so beautiful and kind, you won’t refuse, right?—Baby, can I step on you?”
Yan Chuan felt both shy and angry, looking at his husband’s handsome yet brooding face, a bit speechless.
He was very clean and had even tidied himself up before bed. Everything was spotless, which wasn’t a justification for his husband to hold… this.
Did performing in an escape variety show require such behavior?
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