It is difficult to articulate the emotions swelling in the heart at this moment.

The person you have been longing to see appears before your eyes without warning, frankly and openly voicing his yearning for you.

Time had slipped by silently; in the blink of an eye, it was already October. The scorching heat of summer had mostly faded, and the evening breeze was sparse and open, bringing a cool, refreshing comfort.

Behind Bo Yu lay a low garden wall, where dwarf shrubs were a shade of green so dark it seemed about to drip verdant dye. Amidst the lush foliage, pale wooden hibiscus flowers bloomed quietly. Their petals stacked layer upon layer, resembling the magnificent, dignified hem of a young bride’s wedding gown—solemn and grand.

Tender yellow stamens trembled as they emerged. The petals were as white as fresh snow, with fine, fragmented veins of watery red meandering through them. The cold white moonlight was like gauze, gently and softly draping a hazy white veil over the blossoms. As the breeze floated by, the petals swayed with the wind, like a young girl with bright, expressive eyes.

The distance between them was only a few steps. The moment Gu Qichi took his first step, Bo Yu strode forward and embraced him.

His strength was great, his hands wrapping around Gu Qichi’s back, his head buried in the crook of Gu Qichi’s neck—a fuzzy mass that felt slightly ticklish.

Wooden hibiscus flowers have no scent, or perhaps their fragrance is too faint to be captured.

Bo Yu wasn’t wearing cologne. He had rushed back, dust-weary from his journey, with faint dark circles under his eyelids, looking quite exhausted. Before coming to see Gu Qichi, he had found a nearby hotel and taken a quick shower.

Gu Qichi could smell it—that very faint scent on him was the body wash Gu Qichi himself used.

Ever since Gu Qichi moved into the Bo residence, Bo Yu had changed all scented items to match his. Whether it was shampoo or body wash, even the toothpaste had been switched to the same cherry flavor.

Gu Qichi hadn’t said anything, but he could guess the reason Bo Yu liked that cherry toothpaste.

On the day he got drunk and deliberately seduced Bo Yu, the perfume he had sprayed on himself was cherry-scented.

“Gu Qichi.” Bo Yu called his name. His large hands, with their well-defined joints and slight calluses, moved down to naturally rest on Gu Qichi’s waist, holding him lightly.

Bo Yu felt a bit gloomy; even though he had hired a chef specifically for him, Gu Qichi had still lost a lot of weight. His waist was even thinner now. Just by holding him loosely, Bo Yu could tell that his partner hadn’t been doing well during this time.

“You’ve lost weight again. Do you treat yourself so poorly when I’m not around?” His tone carried a hint of blame.

Gu Qichi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His heart vibrated uncontrollably within his chest cavity, the drumming loud against his eardrums. He half-closed his eyes, his blood almost boiling, greedily inhaling the scent on Bo Yu, seeking more traces of himself upon the man.

His hands unconsciously tightened, hugging Bo Yu back.

Gu Qichi spoke with a hoarse voice, unconsciously tinged with a fragility: “Bo Yu, I did try to take care of myself.”

As if feeling guilty, his fingers curled slightly, leaving ten shallow indentations on Bo Yu’s back. “It’s just that the results weren’t as satisfactory as I hoped.”

---

This restaurant served private home-style cuisine; privacy was excellent, and not many people came, so the entrance was somewhat desolate with no one in sight.

Luo Qianqian kept a lookout for them for a while, and after confirming there were no sneaking paparazzi, she relaxed, happily hiding in the driver’s seat to “ship” the couple from afar.

The light from the streetlamp poured down straight and true. Several beams of light were dim and ambiguous, illuminating tiny dust motes floating in the river of light—lonely yet brilliant.

In the orange-yellow glow, two people embraced each other. The blurred light and shadow created a hazy, dreamlike halo around them, beautiful beyond words.

Gu Qichi, who had worn a cold face every day for over a month, finally wore an expression of happiness. It was clearly the same face, but the frost upon it melted silently, shedding that icy shell. Gu Qichi’s entire being was enveloped in a gentle glow.

The natural smile flowing in his clear eyes, the upturned corners of his mouth, the tone of his voice, and the posture of wholehearted devotion in the hug—even the lines of his lean skeletal structure spoke of relaxed trust.

People in the crew often said Gu Qichi was a cold, aloof beauty, looking like he kept strangers away and was hard to get along with.

Every time Luo Qianqian heard this, she would earnestly refute them: “That’s not true. Teacher Gu is actually a very gentle person; he’s just slow to warm up.”

Gu Qichi’s gentleness was not flashy; it was hidden in many trivial details—

Like picking up A-Ci in the pouring rain; silently handing a box of waterproof band-aids to an injured staff member; secretly paying to distribute free iced mung bean soup and small fans to nearby sanitation workers; stocking large bags of high-quality cat food in the hotel and silently pouring it into corners every morning before work to give stray cats a hearty meal; and buying a large pack of heating patches for her when he noticed she was having period cramps, even asking Master Liu to make her brown sugar sweet dumplings…

These trivial little things strung together like a slowly unfolding painting, sketching out the true nature of Gu Qichi bit by bit.

Gentle, reserved, carefully touching the world.

Even though this world had once hurt him so deeply.

As Tagore said: “The world has kissed me with pain, and I will return it with song.”

When facing Bo Yu, this gentleness was magnified infinitely. Gu Qichi would naturally reveal a posture of attachment and trust, his eyes full of affection and tenderness.

Seeing that the two were about to kiss, Luo Qianqian coughed lightly and, with great situational awareness, drove the car away from the area.

After all, as a lifestyle assistant, sometimes you have to leave your artist enough personal space.

Bo Yu was still buried in the crook of Gu Qichi’s neck. His collarbone lines were thin and fragile, white as porcelain, glowing with a cold light. Bo Yu felt his teeth itch; he licked the seam of his lips, and then bit down.

The force wasn’t heavy, even light enough to resemble a puppy playing, just leaving a clearly defined tooth mark on the skin.

Gu Qichi said nothing, didn’t make a sound, simply quietly indulging Bo Yu’s behavior.

After a moment, Bo Yu raised his head. He was taller than Gu Qichi. Under the projection of the streetlamp, his height advantage was revealed; his shadow perfectly enveloped Gu Qichi, a posture that provided a great sense of security.

Bo Yu’s hand caressed his face, moving to his earlobe. His earlobe was small and exquisite, a round little bead. Under Bo Yu’s repeated rubbing and kneading, it became engorged with blood and swollen, turning from fair to crimson, looking like he was wearing a red pearl earring—bright red and dazzling.

Bo Yu’s voice was muffled, low, hoarse, and wrapped in heavy emotion. He lifted his eyelids and asked somewhat reluctantly: “Gu Qichi, did I break the rules?”

Now it was Gu Qichi’s turn to be puzzled. He tipped his head back, his neck and jawline forming a beautiful arc. His skin was as white as snow, rendered warm by the orange light.

He asked in confusion, “What rule?”

Bo Yu’s gaze was aggressive, like a wolf in the night ready to strike, locking tightly onto his prey. His eyes moved inch by inch from the blood-red earlobe to Gu Qichi’s moist eyes, his upturned nose, and his full lips that gleamed with a watery red sheen.

This is a perfect height for kissing, Bo Yu thought.

As long as Gu Qichi stands on his tiptoes a little, and I lower my head…

But Gu Qichi was still waiting for his answer. Bo Yu lowered his brows, leaned forward slightly, and answered him seriously: “The rule that says I can’t come for a set visit.”

Gu Qichi laughed. The smile spread almost wantonly across his face. His peach blossom eyes curved slightly, the light in them fragmented and brilliant like stars twinkling in the sky. His chest rose and fell slightly, and the curve of his lips widened.

He looked vivid and bright, even more beautiful than the vibrant hibiscus flowers by the wall.

Gu Qichi teased him: “Bo Yu, I should be considered on vacation right now.”

The implication was obvious: it didn’t count as a foul.

After saying this, his hand seemed to unconsciously touch Bo Yu’s collar, his fingernails lightly scraping over Bo Yu’s exposed neck, and then he extended his tongue to lick the seam of his lips.

Under the light, Gu Qichi’s watery red lips were coated with a layer of crystalline moisture, like a ripe, bright red berry, its plump juice about to burst forth, inviting someone to pick it.

Bo Yu kissed him right at that height.

His hand moved down from Gu Qichi’s earlobe, firmly holding the back of his head, clamping his jaw to lift it higher.

Bo Yu’s tongue intruded just like that, without any warning, fiercely prying open his teeth, tightly entangling with Gu Qichi’s tongue, sucking impatiently.

Gu Qichi whimpered, obediently opening his mouth, his arms wrapping around Bo Yu’s neck, raising his head to accept the kiss.

The air in his lungs was plundered bit by bit. No corner of his mouth was spared. Bo Yu bit his tongue, exchanging saliva, which was all swallowed by Bo Yu as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

In the dark night, a subtle fragrance floated; the hibiscus leaves rustled in the wind, and the clear sound of water being stirred could be heard.

Gu Qichi tasted a hint of lemon—Bo Yu must have come straight after washing up; the toothpaste flavor was cool and refreshingly sweet.

His lips and the root of his tongue were sucked until they were numb and aching. Tears were forced from the corners of Gu Qichi’s eyes, the bottom of his eyes damp, and the skin around them turned a very faint red.

When Bo Yu finally let him go, Gu Qichi only avoided collapsing from weak legs because Bo Yu had his arm locked tightly around his waist.

He panted in small breaths. Even though he had kissed Bo Yu many times, he still didn’t know how to breathe in these moments.

Or perhaps Bo Yu kissed too fiercely, leaving him truly powerless to think about questions like how to breathe.

The moisture in Gu Qichi’s eyes quickly materialized, the mist turning from thin to thick, a vast expanse of white making everything in his vision blur, before accumulating into tears that flowed down the corners of his eyes.

“Wife.” Bo Yu called him. His eyes were very dark, the ink within them rolling endlessly. The hand on the back of Gu Qichi’s head forcefully straightened him to face him directly. He extended a finger to press on Gu Qichi’s lips, rubbing heavily, spreading the moisture on them more evenly. “Stick your tongue out, let me kiss it a little longer, okay?”

Gu Qichi half-closed his eyes, unable to think of any words of refusal. Even though his body was trembling severely, he still indulgently obeyed Bo Yu. He always allowed Bo Yu to be presumptuous with him, again and again.

As if he had no bottom line.

Gu Qichi was held tightly by him, his body unconsciously picking up his scent.

The aroma of camellia body wash, and the fresh sweetness of lemon.

Summer clothes were thin. Gu Qichi was only wearing a soft white cotton T-shirt, and he could clearly feel Bo Yu’s arm clamped around his waist, the smooth muscle lines and the faintly throbbing artery pressing hotly against his skin.

Gu Qichi felt that not only was his blood boiling, but his brain was too; a paralyzing dizziness floated up.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before Bo Yu let him go and led him by the hand into the private restaurant.

---

The restaurant’s decor leaned towards the style of a Jiangnan water town—white walls and black tiles, sketched like an ink wash painting in the rain. The roof was a sky-blue cyan, much like a misty rainy day in Jiangnan, where the fog lingers and never disperses.

Gu Qichi’s head was still dizzy as he was led inside by Bo Yu, silent the whole way, not yet recovered from the intensity of the moment before.

This private kitchen was opened by a friend of Bo Yu’s. The prices were high, and the dishes were exquisite.

The entrance hall wasn’t a man-made fountain or a trickling rockery like other restaurants, but a deep pool of living water. Black silt lay quietly at the bottomless depth, and meticulously cared-for lotuses were striving to sprout buds in October, pink-white petals wrapping around tender yellow stamens.

The wind chimes at the door made crisp collision sounds as guests entered and exited, tinkling like jade.

As people walked by, the lotus decorations and hangings visible everywhere released a very faint floral scent with the swaying of sleeves, refreshing the heart and mind.

Bo Yu gave his name, held Gu Qichi, and followed the waiter to a private room on the second floor, which retained the antique design.

A huge screen blocked most of the view. The patterns embroidered on it were exquisite workmanship—Suzhou embroidery auctioned by the owner, each piece priceless.

The huge shadow cast by the screen fell diagonally downwards, landing squarely on Bo Yu’s face.

His narrow phoenix eyes were lowered, looking seriously at the menu. The impenetrable darkness in his eyes had dissipated slightly, revealing a lazy, unrestrained satisfaction. The bridge of his nose was high, his contours sharp and cold. His thin lips were slightly swollen, a bright crimson red.

It added an inexplicable touch of sexiness to his ascetic, plain face.

Gu Qichi’s gaze never left Bo Yu for a second, as if he couldn’t look enough.

The waiter handed over the menu, and Bo Yu passed it to Gu Qichi, wanting him to order.

Gu Qichi had to take the menu and move his gaze away from Bo Yu.

The menu was dazzling, every item looking exceptionally tempting. Gu Qichi had actually eaten some snacks on set—meat floss cakes and ham sausages—so he wasn’t really hungry.

Moreover, having his mood ruined by Song Zhian for days had caused his appetite to drop lower and lower; sometimes he wished he could just sleep on an empty stomach.

But at this moment, with Bo Yu by his side, it was like the clouds parting to reveal the sun. His mood quietly welcomed the first clearing after rain, bathed in warm sunshine, and his appetite improved significantly along with it.

Gu Qichi’s fingertips flipped through the varied menu. He pointed: “Wensi Tofu, Eight Treasure Duck, and Steamed Sea Bass. One of each is fine.”

Just as he was about to close the menu, Bo Yu pressed it down. The man’s gaze was fixed on him as he took the menu from his hands.

“Rose mousse, hairy crabs, pineapple sweet and sour pork, boiled fish, and boiled shrimp… one of each.”

Gu Qichi looked up, his eyelashes trembling. The mist had cleared, but the skin around his eyes was still a flush of crimson. His long lashes cast a natural fan-shaped shadow under his eyes. He frowned slightly: “Bo Yu, isn’t that too much?”

Bo Yu didn’t care at all. He casually handed the menu back to the waiter before meeting his gaze: “It’s not. It’s all stuff you like. Eat more, nourish yourself properly.”

Once the waiter left, Bo Yu beckoned to Gu Qichi, who was sitting opposite him. “Wife, don’t sit there, sit over here with me.”

Gu Qichi, whose hand was still being held, couldn’t quite understand the logic of sitting side-by-side while eating, but he slowly allowed himself to be pressed down next to him.

Bo Yu leaned in, his hair brushing past, causing a numb tickle:

“Chi-chi, it’s still early before the food comes. Let’s eat something else first.”