He raised his head, his beautiful little face betraying worry, and the slight furrow of his brows made one’s heart flutter.
“It’s nothing serious,” his husband said as he took off the blood-stained coat and set it aside, not wanting his delicate wife to catch the scent. “It’s someone else’s blood.”
Yan Chuan responded with a confused, “Ah.”
After pausing for a moment, he still asked, “Did you have a conflict with someone?”
“Hmm,” the husband said lightly, pulling Yan Chuan closer so he could sit on his lap. “I had a minor disagreement with a colleague, and we got into a bit of a fight.”
Feeling the warmth of another person’s body against his back, Yan Chuan stiffened a little. “Why?”
The man naturally rested his chin on his shoulder, his long fingers combing through Yan Chuan’s silky black hair, as if holding a delicate doll.
He leaned down to sniff Yan Chuan’s neck, his high nose rubbing lightly against the pale skin, the contact feeling sticky and awkward.
Not receiving a reply, Yan Chuan slightly turned his head, blinking. “Hmm?”
His voice was soft, “What was the disagreement about? Did you get hurt?”
Meeting his wife’s worried and tense gaze, the husband finally spoke.
He gently patted Yan Chuan’s slender shoulder, saying, “Just a little scrape. As for the reason…”
The husband’s dark eyes focused on his wife’s pristine, beautiful face, and he revealed, “To be precise, it’s because of you.”
Yan Chuan’s eyes widened in surprise, resembling a startled deer.
The husband’s thin and cool lips curled into a smile, his voice deep: “He has seen you and can’t forget you. During the day, he argued with me because of that, and I told him not to covet another man’s wife.”
“He refused,” the man seemed to recall something, raising an eyebrow. “So I hit him.”
“I wasn’t hurt much, but he’s probably in quite a bit of pain,” the husband stressed, “But he deserves it.”
The light-hearted banter continued.
The husband’s fingers caressed Yan Chuan’s cheek, the cool touch causing Yan Chuan’s lashes to flutter uneasily.
He glanced down, catching sight of the bloodstain on his husband’s tie.
The stain was fresh, not more than a day’s worth. The metallic scent was strong, invading Yan Chuan’s nostrils.
Originally, his husband had dressed neatly, the bowtie even tied by Yan Chuan himself when he left. He had stood on tiptoes, trying hard to tie it properly.
Now, just a day later, the bowtie was undone, and the crisp shirt was wrinkled, revealing the defined muscles beneath.
Clearly, there had been some significant conflict with someone else.
His husband explained that it was about a fight with a colleague.
Yan Chuan stared at the mark on the tie, trying to envision the scene at that moment.
His gentle and reliable husband, provoked, throwing a punch at the disrespectful colleague, culminating in a brawl.
And the cause… was him.
In his husband’s workplace, a colleague had developed an interest in his wife, possibly saying inappropriate things that pushed his usually silent husband to the brink of anger.
Like an enraged lion, unwilling to tolerate another male’s desire for his mate, returning home with an undercurrent of tension.
“Why?” Yan Chuan bit his lip, hesitating before asking, “Does he know me?”
The husband was meant to have a storyline where he worked during the day and returned home at night; his plot points occurred within the confines of that work.
Involving Yan Chuan, and resulting in physical conflict… Could it be that this “gentle husband” had another lover?
Why else would it escalate to such severity?
Suddenly, Yan Chuan was unsure.
The husband fixed his gaze intently on him.
Yan Chuan obediently sat on the husband’s lap, his silky black hair cascading down, obscuring his fair neck, and his delicate collarbone peeked through the wide collar of his oversized shirt.
After taking a shower, he wore a very loose short-sleeve shirt, clearly too large for his frame as it had been taken from his husband’s closet.
The shirt hung down to cover his thighs, possibly concealing the shorts he may or may not have worn. His slender, straight legs were visible, knees tinged with a faint blush.
Set against his husband’s tailored dark suit, he looked as pale as a fresh milk jelly.
The beautiful wife seemed unaware of her own allure, her wrist resting on her knee, daintily swaying her lower leg. The delicate skin on her inner thighs brushed against the rough material of the suit, creating a pliable mound of softness.
Compared to her strong and tall husband, she appeared so fragile, as if she would shatter with the lightest touch.
To meet her husband’s gaze, she tilted her head back, anxiously biting her lower lip, her lips small and full.
She was oblivious to how captivating her confused expression was.
The husband’s gaze deepened with intensity.
The obedient wife looked a bit bewildered but had an obedient expression, gazing up at her nominal husband as if seeking support.
She, of course, had no idea why the husband’s colleague developed feelings for her.
His wife was so beautiful and delicate, kind and timid; whenever she went out, she would hide behind him, speaking softly and hesitantly, too scared to initiate conversation with other men.
Even if she did, it would surely be from other men’s ill intentions.
“Hmm,” the husband affirmed, “He has seen you once and hasn’t forgotten ever since.”
His words were slow and heavy, filled with a coldness that seemed ready to swallow the colleague whole.
Yan Chuan felt confused again. Just one glance, and it had come to this?
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