“Xiao Xu.”

A deep, magnetic male voice came through the phone speaker, crossing the entire Pacific Ocean to reach Rong Xu’s ears.

Upon hearing this voice, Rong Xu slowly leaned back against the cold red wooden door, a faint smile curling his lips as he remained silent, just softly laughing.

There was only the sound of steady breathing on the other end of the phone. At this moment, Qin Cheng was preparing to film a talk show. Surrounded by blond, blue-eyed foreigners, he sat calmly on the sofa, holding the phone. After a long while, he softly called again, “Xiao Xu.”

Still, there was no response.

Qin Cheng stood up and walked to a nearby lounge.

After the door clicked shut behind him, he walked to the window, looking down at the bustling, extravagant night scene of New York. After a long silence, he said indifferently, “If you don’t answer me, I’m going to take action.”

The next moment, the young man’s clear voice, laced with laughter, rang out, “What action are you going to take?”

Qin Cheng looked up at the Statue of Liberty in the distance. The tall bronze statue reflected a deep glow under the sunlight. The Hudson River flowed like a narrow jade belt, shimmering with ripples.

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, a faint smile on his lips, “…For example, ask you what birthday gift you’re going to give me?”

Rong Xu laughed, “That’s not enough to make me talk. Try another action.”

Qin Cheng pondered for a moment, then said, “Then… ask if you remember the last thing you said to me in the hotel bathroom before you fell asleep that day?”

Rong Xu: “……!!!”

A moment later, the call was suddenly disconnected. Qin Cheng couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

Five seconds later, Rong Xu sent a message: [Congratulations, you’ve lost birthday gift ×1.]

Qin Cheng calmly replied: [I’ll be back next week, before my birthday, on the 26th.]

Rong Xu was changing his shoes. Hearing the vibration, he picked up his phone and glanced at it, then pouted: [No birthday gift for you!]

Over the following week, Rong Xu rarely went out, mostly resting at home.

Originally, Director Xu hoped Rong Xu could participate in some promotional activities for The Silent, but there were issues with the film’s post-production, leaving Director Xu too busy to spare any time. He decided to postpone the promotional plans.

After all, the movie was set to release on November 30th, and it was only mid-October. There was still plenty of time to start promotions in November.

During this week, Rong Xu had Luo Xi deliver groceries and meat a few times, cooking simple meals at home. Sometimes he would watch movies in the home theater, other times he would go to Qin Cheng’s study to browse his books. But most of the time, he would chat with a certain man.

Rong Xu didn’t know where Qin Cheng found the time. Despite being in the U.S. promoting his movie, he always managed to reply to messages instantly.

Additionally, Rong Xu attended two gatherings of the “Qin Fengfeng” group.

This time, fewer people attended—only Wen Xuan, Chu Qi, and Lin Xuan.

Jennifer was busy filming, James and Hugh had long since returned to their home country, and Xia Muyan had gone to Hengdian to shoot her new movie. With exactly four people at the gathering, they played mahjong each time. Initially, Rong Xu thought his skills were mediocre at best, relying mostly on luck. But he never expected there to be someone as uniquely terrible as Lin Xuan!

Lin Xuan’s mahjong skills were entirely luck-based. If his luck was bad, he would definitely lose.

So after two consecutive mahjong sessions, Lin Xuan was thoroughly defeated. During the second session, Rong Xu was skeptical—what kind of hand could lead to losing every single round? He asked a club attendant to take over his seat and stood behind Lin Xuan to observe his hand. Then…

He watched as the baby-faced singer inexplicably broke up a pair, refusing to play winds or honors, stubbornly discarding numbered tiles and letting Wen Xuan win.

Rong Xu: “……”

Well, with skills like that, losing only that much could be considered good luck.

Time flew by, and soon it was the 26th.

That morning, Rong Xu secretly ordered a cake. He planned to celebrate the man’s birthday at midnight. The cake couldn’t be ordered the next day—it had to be prepared a day early.

Originally, Rong Xu had asked Luo Xi to buy some ingredients, thinking about making the cake himself. But after staring at the blackened mess he created, he decisively threw his “cake” into the trash and ordered a small one instead.

Since it was just for the two of them, the cake didn’t need to be big—it was the thought that counted.

In the morning, Rong Xu tidied up the house and hid the birthday gift he had bought. He planned to have instant noodles for lunch and cook a proper meal in the evening.

After all, it was a birthday, so they should eat something nice. Though Rong Xu’s planned meal wasn’t extravagant—just five dishes and a soup—it was far more complicated than his usual tomato-and-egg stir-fry or green pepper with shredded pork.

However, all the birthday preparations came to an abrupt halt that very morning.

While texting Qin Cheng to let him know when he arrived in the country, Rong Xu received a reply just five minutes later: [The smog index in New York is too high. All flights are grounded. Xiao Xu, I might not make it back today…]

The smile on the young man’s lips froze instantly.

After a moment, he replied: [Then stay safe and rest there for a few days. Can you make it back tomorrow?]

Qin Cheng responded: [There’s a flight tomorrow noon, arriving in B City the day after. If the smog isn’t too bad, I should be home the day after.]

Rong Xu’s bright eyes reflected those words. After a long pause, he called Qin Cheng directly. On the phone, the young man laughed softly, resigned. “Then there’s nothing we can do. Qin Cheng, I’ll make it up to you when you get back. Rest well in New York—no need to rush.”

The background noise on Qin Cheng’s end was chaotic, filled with airport announcements. Rong Xu only heard a soft sigh before Qin Cheng said, “Take care of yourself. I still want my birthday gift.”

Rong Xu couldn’t help but laugh. “Birthday gift? If you’re not coming back, there won’t be one. No gift for you. Go rest—didn’t you finish recording last night at midnight? Take this chance to relax.”

After chatting a bit longer, they hung up.

Looking at the cake that had just been delivered by the courier, the smile on the boy’s face slowly faded.

With a sigh of disappointment, Rong Xu placed the cake into the refrigerator and started making lunch. He had a simple meal by himself at noon, and in the afternoon, he cuddled a soft, plush duck toy and sat in the movie room to watch one of Qin Cheng’s films.

By evening, as the sun slowly set, the boy took a quick shower and planned to read in his room.

In the spacious and quiet house, the sound of slippers tapping against the wooden floor echoed faintly. Just as Rong Xu walked out of the study holding a book and stepped into the living room, suddenly—he heard the crisp sound of a key turning in the lock.

His body instantly froze. Wearing white pajamas, the boy slowly turned his head, and his eyes locked onto the man standing at the door.

The heavy mahogany door closed behind Qin Cheng. He stood by the entrance, wearing a long black trench coat, silently gazing at the boy in the living room. The two of them stared at each other, neither speaking first.

Qin Cheng’s handsome, chiseled face held a hint of travel-worn exhaustion, but he slowly curved his lips into a smile and said, “Xiao Xu… I’m home.”

As those words fell, Rong Xu raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly. “So you lied to me this morning?”

Qin Cheng walked into the living room, taking off his coat as he explained, “I didn’t lie. You checked the news too—New York had a sudden severe smog, and all flights were grounded. But…” He paused, stepping closer to Rong Xu and lowering his gaze, his tone serious, “But when I heard my lover sounded really disappointed, I decided—no matter what, I had to come back.”

Rong Xu gave a small “oh.” “So how did you get back?”

It wasn’t a very complicated story.

Since debuting, Qin Cheng had never relied on his family’s power. But this time, with the heavy smog and grounded flights, he had no choice but to contact his father and borrow his private jet. He drove to Washington and flew back to China as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, Rong Xu asked, “What did you say to Uncle Qin?”

Though he had never met Qin Cheng’s father in person, Rong Xu had seen photos of the man in the papers—a stern-looking middle-aged man.

Qin Cheng lowered his eyes and replied, “I just told him I needed to come home.”

Rong Xu: “…That simple?”

A man who had long since stopped depending on his family suddenly calls home to borrow a private jet—not for an emergency, just because he couldn’t fly out—and yet his father simply agreed, no questions asked?

Rong Xu thought it was a little strange, but seeing Qin Cheng’s calm demeanor, he figured perhaps that was just how their family was.

The two entered the kitchen and began to cook together.

Since Qin Cheng had arrived quite late, Rong Xu hadn’t prepared a meal yet—just leftovers from lunch. He took the cake out of the fridge and, after a moment of thought, asked, “How about… we just eat cake?”

Qin Cheng raised an eyebrow. “My birthday, and you’re letting me eat only cake?”

Rong Xu countered calmly, “Isn’t your birthday tomorrow?”

The man smiled without replying.

Rong Xu ignored him, carrying the cake to the dining table. After opening the box, he took out a fork but hadn’t yet begun cutting the cake when a bit of jam accidentally got on his finger.

Frowning slightly, Rong Xu raised his hand to wipe it off, but just as he picked up a napkin—suddenly, his hand was seized.

The next second, warmth enveloped his fingertip.

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the cool, elegant man who had pulled his hand forward and was now licking the jam off his finger. The coarse texture of his tongue slowly licked and teased the sensitive skin, sending a strange, tingling sensation up from his finger.

Rong Xu hastily withdrew his hand, only to see Qin Cheng looking up at him, eyes deep and intense, lips slightly curled.

Under the warm lighting of the small dining room, an ambiguous air slowly spread. The soft glow made Rong Xu’s already stunning features appear even more delicate and hazy. As he stared, dazed, at Qin Cheng, the man’s gaze dropped to his lips.

It had been a month since Qin Cheng last saw his boy.

And a month since he had kissed those soft lips.

Sensing Qin Cheng’s deepening gaze, Rong Xu slowly came back to his senses. He seemed to understand what was about to happen, so he lifted his chin and said coolly, “We’re eating cake. Weren’t we going to eat cake?”

Qin Cheng raised an eyebrow. “You still want cake right now?”

At a time like this, who had the appetite for cake?

But Rong Xu remained composed. “Of course. What, you want to eat it at midnight instead?”

Surprised, Qin Cheng hadn’t yet caught on to what Rong Xu meant when suddenly—he watched the boy scoop a bit of cake with his finger, pop it into his mouth, then abruptly lean forward, grab his collar, pull him down—

And kiss him.

Qin Cheng’s eyes widened. Rong Xu pried open his teeth and passed the cake into his mouth.

The sweet taste of honey and cream instantly melted between them, as the boy’s tongue gently licked and teased his, letting the sugary dessert be passed and swallowed.

Then, suddenly, Qin Cheng pulled him close, his hand gripping the back of Rong Xu’s head and deepening the kiss just as the boy opened his eyes in surprise.

Soft lips and sweet cake—soon their breathing turned heavy, and the sound of wet kisses filled the air.

A silver string of saliva glistened at the corner of Rong Xu’s lips…

Cream dripped down the corner of his lips, smearing onto his upper lip. But Qin Cheng simply leaned in, swept his tongue across, and licked it back.

By now, the cake had long since melted — but this kiss had only just begun.

In one smooth motion, Qin Cheng turned the boy around and pinned Rong Xu against the table with a single hand. They stood at the edge of the table; the boy’s thighs pressed tightly against its side. He leaned back on his hands, tilting his face up to receive the man’s kiss.

The sounds of intimacy echoed in the otherwise empty house. Qin Cheng’s tongue ravaged the boy’s mouth with unrestrained intensity, and soon, the ever-sensitive Rong Xu began to falter, the sounds spilling from his lips taking on a more heated, seductive tone.

When the kiss finally ended, his face was flushed red, and he was panting heavily. Then a low voice murmured beside his ear:

“…Xiao Xu, I still want cake.”

Rong Xu lifted his eyes, a dazzling sheen of tears shimmering in them. After a moment, he curved his lips into an innocent yet enticing smile. He scooped another bite of cake into his mouth — and this time, Qin Cheng didn’t even wait. He leaned in and kissed him again.

A six-inch cake was quickly finished between the two of them.

When it was gone, Qin Cheng stared regretfully at the empty cake box and sighed, “Too small.”

Meanwhile, Rong Xu’s face was flushed a deep red, his lips slightly swollen. He was still panting, and it took him a while to calm the tingling sensations in his body. But before he could fully recover, the man wrapped his arms around his waist and softly asked:

“Xiao Xu… what about my birthday present?”

Still feeling the warmth on his lips, Rong Xu blinked lazily and shot back, “You want a birthday present too?”

The implication was clear: You already got more than enough.

Qin Cheng chuckled lowly. “Really? Nothing at all?”

“You can go look around,” Rong Xu said casually, touching his lips absentmindedly. “Maybe there’s something in this house that belongs to you. If you can’t find it… well, too bad.”

The man’s dark, deep eyes fixed on the boy’s face. But Rong Xu didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze calmly.

Finally, Qin Cheng sighed. “Then… how about I trade you a gift instead?”

Rong Xu looked surprised.

Led by Qin Cheng, Rong Xu was brought into the dressing room. He rarely came here — this was Qin Cheng’s personal walk-in closet. As a celebrity, Qin Cheng had an enormous wardrobe, and this space barely fit his things, let alone anyone else’s. A year ago, Qin Cheng had even remodeled a second dressing room just for Rong Xu.

This was Rong Xu’s first time in this room. His gaze swept across the elegant suits and formalwear. He had just caught sight of a watch when—

Whoosh— The sound of a curtain being drawn.

Rong Xu instantly looked up. He opened his mouth to call “Qin Cheng,” but the rest of his words were swallowed back down.

The curtain had been pulled aside, revealing a row of sleek, dark military uniforms hanging neatly on display. Rong Xu’s pupils trembled slightly. He turned to look at Qin Cheng — who was now walking slowly toward him.

Qin Cheng’s voice was deep and smooth like a cello as he said, “Xiao Xu, put them on… won’t you?”

The kiss began almost instantly.

Rong Xu understood Qin Cheng’s meaning in a flash — and when Qin Cheng said “put them on,” for some reason, a wave of heat rushed from the base of his spine upward. The two of them kissed as they undressed. Qin Cheng kissed him forcefully, his hand unbuttoning Rong Xu’s pajamas with practiced ease.

One button.

Then another.

The wet sounds of kissing were lewd in the confined space of the closet. Soon, Qin Cheng was unbuttoning the pajamas with both hands, biting gently at the boy’s increasingly sensitive lips. His fingers worked quickly, and soon, all the buttons were undone, revealing the boy’s pale, smooth chest and flat stomach.

As Qin Cheng’s tongue explored the warm cavity of his mouth, his hands had already started slipping the pajama top off Rong Xu’s shoulders.

The temperature in the dressing room rose rapidly, making both their heads spin slightly.

Rong Xu’s soft, breathy moans floated in the air as Qin Cheng’s hands moved faster, peeling the thin pajamas down from his shoulders. Rong Xu, now overcome by desire, reached out and started unbuttoning Qin Cheng’s shirt in return.

“Xiao Xu…”

“Mm… Qin Cheng…”

Everything reached a peak. Everything seemed to be flowing naturally—until—

Click.

The front door opened with a crisp sound, and a loud voice rang out from the hallway:

“Rongrong, sweetheart! Qin Cheng! Where are you, my boy? Mama’s here to celebrate your birthday!”

Bang!

The door to the dressing room slammed shut.

Just stepping through the foyer, Auntie Qin froze mid-step, staring in bewilderment at the now firmly closed closet door in the distance.

“…???”