He knew the relationship between Yan Chuan and that man, as the script outlined a partnership that naturally included some intimacy.
However, that man wasn’t even deserving of that title. He could only be described as an NPC in an escape variety show, merely a data point; how could he so naturally kiss Yan Chuan while showing such familiar expressions?
He could only manage to get a light kiss, just using the excuse of completing a task.
When he saw Yan Chuan taking the initiative through the window, Shan Qi’s heart sank, as if it were caught by an invisible hand.
The emotion of jealousy spiked suddenly.
Last night, he had performed poorly, with Yan Chuan being the one to take the lead. Soft lips brushed against him, lightly teasing, making him feel as if he were in a dream.
In that dream, a beautiful face drew close, their breaths mingling in a particularly proactive manner.
Everything felt surreal.
In someone else’s home, even within the framework of an escape variety show, the open door and the traces of another person’s life in the living room continuously reminded Shan Qi that he was an intruder on someone else’s territory.
Yet, he could hold the slender waist and openly act intimately with someone else’s wife in the living room.
The true victim was just next door, glaring at him with bold disdain.
In the glaring light, they were doing things that were unseen by anyone else.
Shan Qi spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the scenes—the white of her skin, the redness of her lips, and he even tasted a hint of strawberry’s sweet and sour flavour.
He should have realized how reckless he was; he shouldn’t have acted so impulsively; provoking an NPC was never wise.
But Shan Qi couldn’t help it.
Yan Chuan was so beautiful, with a fair complexion and deep black eyes; a simple glance felt like a hook digging into one’s heart.
How could anyone refuse him?
When he returned home, Shan Qi sat in the darkness for a long time.
The quiet of the night was enough to help him cool his head, quickly realised something was off about his earlier thoughts.
Was Yan Chuan really that skilful… Who had he learned all this from?
Shan Qi tossed and turned, reminded of his unsatisfactory performance, overlapping emotions preventing him from falling asleep.
This was why he got up early, peering into someone else’s life like a creep.
Yan Chuan couldn’t see the expression on Shan Qi’s face and could only judge his mood through his tone.
His tone was a bit harsh, almost venomous, as he tightened his grip on Shan Qi’s wrist.
“You hurt me,” Yan Chuan frowned, reaching out to pat Shan Qi’s restless hand: “That hurts.”
Shan Qi paused.
He was indeed too anxious, not realizing the force he was using; there were already red marks appearing on Yan Chuan’s wrist.
The fingerprints stood out on the delicate, white skin, forming a striking ring around his slender wrist.
Shan Qi couldn’t help but release his grip.
Yan Chuan’s slender fingers rested gingerly on Shan Qi’s arm and easily brushed his hand aside.
Yan Chuan then batted away Shan Qi’s hand that was covering his face and calmly met his gaze.
His glossy black eyes were still tranquil, but upon closer inspection, they seemed to carry a shade of melancholy.
Long, dark lashes hung down, casting a small shadow on his nearly translucent, pale cheeks. His lips were pressed together, their colour pale, as if fearing something had frightened him.
Despite his wan appearance, he seemed delicate and fragile, almost as if he’d shatter if held too tightly.
The beautiful, fragile and melancholic beauty raised his eyes to look at Shan Qi and, with a sickly tone, said, “That isn’t what I meant.”
“He’s the boss,” Yan Chuan spoke slowly. “I’m not sure when he’ll change; once he becomes an NPC, we’ll all be in danger.”
“Out of so many contestants, only I, Zhou Wu, and the NPC have ties. I’m very afraid.” Yan Chuan lowered his eyes, unwilling to meet Shan Qi’s gaze: “I’m scared I won’t pass the scenario and will die here.”
“The word ‘die’ has stirred Shan Qi; he replied eagerly, “That won’t happen! I will get you out!”
Yan Chuan didn’t react to this, merely glancing away, his gaze landing on his bruised and swollen wrist.
The implication was clear.
Shan Qi said he would protect him, yet he still held his wrist tightly, dragging him into a corner.
He even pressed him about whether he had been intimate with another man.
He was deceiving him.
Yan Chuan hadn’t said much, but a mere glance had thrown Shan Qi into disarray.
“I’m not saying that…” Shan Qi could only timidly grasp Yan Chuan’s shoulder, afraid of hurting him, hastily explaining: “I’m worried he might harm you; NPCs in escape shows are dangerous, and we can’t trust them…”
Yan Chuan still didn’t look at him: “But he never left marks on my wrist.”
He made him dinner and brought him strawberries, which Yan Chuan silently added to his heart.
Shan Qi couldn’t defend himself anymore, feeling frustrated and lowering his head.
Like a guilty dog sensing it had done something wrong, hesitating whether to jump into the arms of its angry owner.
After a moment, Yan Chuan looked at Shan Qi with glossy, dark eyes.
“You came to find me to complete a task, right?” He spoke with a slight flatness: “Let’s just do it now; after all, there’s no one here.”
Shan Qi couldn’t quite grasp what he meant, feeling a bitter pang in his heart: “That task has already been completed; I just wanted to see you.”
“Oh,” Yan Chuan pursed his lips, “If it’s just for a look, do you really need to drag me into a corner?”
If he didn’t speak, did that mean Shan Qi would just proceed to do something inappropriate?
“You can’t be so impulsive,” Yan Chuan regarded him for a long time before finally speaking, his thick lashes fluttering like tiny fans: “You can’t disturb me suddenly when there’s no task, especially when there are others around.”
Before Shan Qi could respond, Yan Chuan added, “Otherwise, our collaboration can’t continue.”
“Anyway…”
After all, he wasn’t Shan Qi’s only “lover.”
[…] << Back | Next >> […]