Ignoring the unwanted touches, he squeezed a little tighter, unbothered by being discovered.
Yan Chuan intended to refuse, his arching foot tensing, round toes stamping repeatedly as if expressing his intention, “Let go of my hand…”
His embarrassment turned into annoyance, the skin around his eyes blooming a light pink while his eyes glistened with a hint of tears.
His subtle resistance yielded no results.
Yan Chuan couldn’t match the man’s strength; instead, he found his calves pinned down, unable to move at all.
With a calm tone, the husband said, “Stop fooling around; we’ll sleep soon.”
Yan Chuan: …
Who is being unreasonable here? Is this the quality of NPCs in your escape variety show?
The author has something to say:
Pervert (pointing fingers)
Finally, Yan Chuan resigned, closing his eyes in a self-destructive manner.
After a while of being pinned down, the rough palm squeezing a few times at his soft calf, Yan Chuan hastily said, “Alright, we can sleep now.”
It’s warm enough; he felt if he didn’t call a stop, his calves would be unbearably hot.
His husband released him.
Regaining his freedom, Yan Chuan quickly burrowed into the covers, his cheeks still flushed with lingering warmth.
The earlier panic and fear faded somewhat.
“Go wash your hands.” His voice was muffled from beneath the blankets.
The husband didn’t respond, so Yan Chuan pressed on, “Hurry up.”
After a splash of water, Yan Chuan began urging, “Turn off the light before getting in bed.”
From this performance, it seemed Yan Chuan had transformed from the “cowardly wife” into the “spoiled wife.”
Congratulations to him.
As soon as the bedroom darkened, Yan Chuan sensed someone slipping into his covers. Long arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close like a cherished toy.
With wide eyes and still awake, Yan Chuan froze for a moment.
Such rudeness from this man.
He consoled himself—it’s fine, he thought. If he was already touching someone else’s feet, what else was there that he wouldn’t do?
*****
In another apartment.
Pale moonlight shone through the half-open window, casting a surreal shadow on the floor.
The window sill was already rusty, leading down to torn wallpaper, grey and faded, vaguely revealing its original light green base colour.
This apartment was much smaller than Yan Chuan’s, with only one room. A cloth curtain separated the sleeping area from the living space in a very simple manner.
Nonetheless, it was clean; a guitar case lay in one corner, sheet music piled nearby, along with handwritten manuscripts densely packed.
Furniture was minimal, just a necessary table and chairs, with a large cardboard box serving as a wardrobe, sitting on thick cardboard to shield against moisture.
The only noteworthy sight was the bed set up in the corner.
It seemed to belong to a guitarist, living in a rather humble situation.
At this moment, there was someone sitting on the edge of the bed. With fingers pinching a photograph, he studied it closely under the moonlight.
His expression was flat, devoid of any emotion in his eyes, making it hard to discern what the photograph meant to him.
Soon, he stuffed the photo into a tin box underneath the bed, a hint of impatience flashing across his brows, suddenly replaced by a hint of amusement.
It was the expression of someone who had found something interesting.
This person was Tang Zhen.
However, if anyone passed by and saw this scene, they would likely be surprised.
For Tang Zhen had always portrayed a gentle and reliable persona, his smile ever-present, calmly soothing everyone around him.
But alone, he was marked by extreme indifference and sarcasm.
Tang Zhen was still awake.
In the dead of night, he replayed the previous scene in his mind—from hearing the call for help to the first person running into the hallway, stopping Liang Xin, and then everyone discussing how to deal with it.
Who was the killer, who was the victim… and the bystanders.
He focused on the players’ varied expressions, either tense, scared, or frantic, presenting a vivid picture in the dim night.
These were emotions he was familiar with.
Of course, the most conspicuous one in the crowd was Yan Chuan, seen that morning, wearing a pristine white dress. His exposed calves were slender and pale, slightly trembling in the cold wind, looking frail and innocent, yet draped in a large coat belonging to a man.
The beautiful wife and her “husband.”
A stirring sensation rose in Tang Zhen’s heart.
They came out late, and he wondered what they had been doing inside. The beautiful wife’s porcelain-like face was reddened, and a glimmer of moisture reflected in her eyes.
So pitiful, like a soft little animal that anyone could bully.
The nightgown was soft and thin, she seemed to hide in her tall husband’s embrace, her cheek pressing against the man’s arm, creating a soft bundle of flesh.
The husband was considerate, not only draping his coat over her but also wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her tightly into his embrace, whispering something in her ear.
A pair of very affectionate spouses.
Tang Zhen speculated that the man was comforting her.
The words of reassurance were likely just a few types, nothing novel. Soon, he noticed Yan Chuan looking over at him, their eyes meeting for an instant, before he quickly looked away, as if he had seen a flood monster.
Why?
Tang Zhen frowned, this was beyond his understanding. He had presented an image of reliability and didn’t do anything out of line, so why was Yan Chuan looking at him like that?
Feeling confused, he naturally had to ponder.
Tang Zhen thought deeply, recalling more details.
The dim light in the corridor made his pale skin even whiter, almost reflecting light. In the night, it formed delicate lines, as if it could be gathered in a hand.
Beneath the black, soft hair was a long neck, and skin that should have been flawless. Yet, slight fingerprints darkened with time emerged on the back of his neck, turning into a dark red mark against the tender skin, a sight alarming to behold.
Tang Zhen compared notes and felt that someone must have pressed down on that stretch of white neck from behind, leaving those marks.
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