Chapter 25: Intentional

The bathroom was filled with damp steam. The already narrow space felt even more cramped with the addition of another person. Shen Xici somewhat regretted calling Sheng Shaoyan in. The man was tall and his presence was too strong, crowding the space around him to the point of being suffocating.

Sheng Shaoyan’s gaze landed on Shen Xici. Shen Xici had clearly finished showering, wearing a pair of black casual trousers. The strong, lean line of his waist was circled by the waistband. The skin above the black fabric was dazzlingly white, like a piece of white jade placed on ebony wood, making one want to touch it to see if it was warm or cool.

He suppressed the urge, keeping his hands fixed in his pockets: “Why did you call me in?”

When he opened the door, Sheng Shaoyan realized he had misunderstood. In their relationship, he had always been the dominant party. Although he had lost his memory, he was certain that he was habitually distant with people and unaccustomed to such close proximity, even with a confirmed boyfriend.

Over the past half-month, Shen Xici had been very close to him, sometimes initiating intimate gestures when he couldn’t help himself. However, Shen Xici clearly knew the boundaries and never committed an act that crossed the line.

Aside from the relief he felt, there was another emotion stirring in his heart.

“Weren’t you worried that the actors might not hold back when filming?” Shen Xici was completely unaware of the deep, intense look in Sheng Shaoyan’s eyes. He naturally turned around, presenting his back: “No injuries, right? I checked in the mirror myself, not a single bruise.”

Sheng Shaoyan’s gaze naturally moved to Shen Xici’s back.

The water on his skin hadn’t been completely wiped off. Both his spine and his protruding shoulder blades had a damp, beautiful allure, making one want to personally dry them.

Picking up a towel nearby, he wiped from the back of Shen Xici’s neck all the way down to the small of his back. Seeing Shen Xici cast a puzzled look at him in the mirror, Sheng Shaoyan explained flatly: “Your back isn’t dry. Be careful not to catch a cold.”

Having said that, he waited for Shen Xici’s reaction.

“Not dry again? I always seem to miss that spot in the middle.” Shen Xici didn’t feel anything was wrong. In his previous life, after swimming in Sheng Shaoyan’s heated pool, Sheng Shaoyan would sometimes help him dry his back. He had always suspected Sheng Shaoyan had a slight compulsion and couldn’t stand those few drops of water.

Just as he was about to put on his shirt, Shen Xici suddenly felt Sheng Shaoyan’s finger pressing into his back.

Turning his head to try and see his back, Shen Xici felt a bit uneasy: “What’s wrong, A’shao?”

“No bruises, but it looks a bit red here.” Sheng Shaoyan pressed down with his finger on the fair skin, asking seriously, “Does it hurt?”

Shen Xici paused for a second: “No pain.”

The finger slid down, landing in the shadow of the shoulder blade: “How about here?”

Shen Xici shook his head: “Don’t feel anything either.”

Lowering his eyes, his finger followed the curve of the spine down, further down, landing on the waist. Sheng Shaoyan’s voice held a hoarseness only he could hear: “And here?”

“Doesn’t hurt either,” Shen Xici was starting to get worried by his questioning, “Is the redness serious?”

Sheng Shaoyan withdrew his hand, as if the red marks he mentioned truly existed: “Not serious.”

“That’s good. If it’s not serious, it should recover by tomorrow.” Shen Xici relaxed, took the white shirt hanging nearby, and slipped his arms through the sleeves.

The slick sensation still lingered on his fingertips. Sheng Shaoyan didn’t know how his pre-amnesia self managed to tolerate this. Perhaps he wasn’t that fond of him back then?

In any case, after confirming he had fallen for Shen Xici again, the gradually escalating emotions were, at this moment, like a few sparks thrown onto a pile of wood soaked in tung oil. A certain desire surged like a sudden flame, impossible to suppress.

Or perhaps, he was inherently this kind of person, only maintaining a harmless facade due to his amnesia?

He heard himself ask: “Did you only call me in to check your back?”

Having just fastened one button, Shen Xici was taken aback by the question: “Then where else?”

“Don’t you check your mouth every morning and evening?” Sheng Shaoyan gently pinched Shen Xici’s chin with two fingers: “Let me see if you were injured.”

This was indeed Shen Xici’s habit. After waking up and before sleeping, he would carefully check the inside of his mouth and tongue for any cuts or check if his gums were swollen.

But Sheng Shaoyan offering to check for him—

“Is it not allowed?”

Shen Xici remembered he had just brushed his teeth. It didn’t seem like there was anything wrong with it.

Seeing the person whose chin was being held look somewhat hesitant, Sheng Shaoyan stated directly: “Open your mouth.”

The thin lips parted, revealing teeth that were neat and white, like clean shells. A moist tongue lay in the middle, and the mucous membranes on both sides were tender pink.

Trying his best not to look at Sheng Shaoyan, Shen Xici still felt it was a little strange. He could check in the mirror himself, but Sheng Shaoyan was doing it out of concern. After waiting a while, he spoke: “A’shao?”

After staring for a few seconds, Sheng Shaoyan’s finger rubbed heavily against Shen Xici’s lower lip, picking up a little dampness before letting go: “There’s something white here.”

“Maybe it’s just a mark from the toothpaste?” Shen Xici wiped it himself a couple of times, not minding much, and started to walk out. Sheng Shaoyan stood there, watching his receding figure, and only followed after a moment.

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The sun had mostly set. Shen Xici checked the call sheet for tomorrow sent by the crew and calculated the time: “My scenes are scheduled late tomorrow. I’ll get back around nine o’clock after wrapping up. I promised the old lady last night that I would help her pick up some wild Huang Jing (a type of herb). How about we leave now, pick it up, and come back for dinner?”

The pace of life in the small county was different from Ning City. By nine or ten in the evening, the streets were usually closed up, let alone the villages outside the county. Tomorrow’s timing would definitely be too rushed.

Seeing that Sheng Shaoyan had no objection, Shen Xici went into the bedroom, opened the wardrobe, and first handed a jacket to Sheng Shaoyan: “I see it’s going to cool down at night. Just in case, put on a jacket first.”

After Sheng Shaoyan accepted it, he rummaged through his own clothes. He hadn’t brought many clothes this time and had given half to Sheng Shaoyan to wear. This meant all his jackets were being washed and hung up; he didn’t have a single wearable one.

His gaze shifted to the side. Thinking about how Sheng Shaoyan had lent him clothes several times, he figured Sheng Shaoyan probably wouldn’t mind if he wore his jacket, right?

The person who regularly came to the county to sell mountain goods was from a nearby ethnic minority village. He had fallen and broken his leg while digging herbs in the mountains. He called the old lady, asking her to pick up the wild Huang Jing he had pre-ordered for soup. Shen Xici happened to overhear and said they had a motorcycle and could easily go and come back, so he took on the task.

A half-hour ride. The road got narrower as they went, crossing fields of green crops. Sheng Shaoyan parked the motorcycle at the entrance of the village. The engine noise startled the livestock in the village, accompanied by the lowing of cows and the crowing of chickens.

The village was built against the mountain, with all the houses being three stories high. The walls were made of wooden fences, topped with tiles. Each household was connected by small paths paved with stones of varying lengths.

The place was easy to find. A huge, prominent tree stood in front of the door. Shen Xici took the Huang Jing from the uncle. It hadn’t been cut into pieces, was long and sticky with dirt, and was packaged in a cloth bag woven with colorful threads.

The uncle leaned on his wooden staff, looked at Shen Xici, and then at Sheng Shaoyan waiting under the big tree: “You two are incredibly handsome. Are you here for a trip? The timing is perfect. Are you coming to the Yage Festival? If the two of you go, who knows how many embroidered balls you’ll receive? The girls will definitely surround you and sing!”

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Holding the cloth bag, Shen Xici walked down the slope outside the courtyard, repeating the uncle’s words to Sheng Shaoyan: “Is this the festival you told me about two days ago? The uncle said it lasts for many days. Maybe we can still catch it when we have some free time.”

He then teased, “The uncle also said that if you go, you must bring a big pocket to hold the embroidered balls and fresh flowers thrown to you. He said one pocket might not even be enough.”

Sheng Shaoyan wasn’t interested in these things. His suggestion to go before was only to help Shen Xici relax: “Do you want to go?”

“Kind of. I just thought it would be fun to go with you.”

A handsome face can’t be completely covered by a mask. Based on Sheng Shaoyan’s looks, if they really went, he might be dizzy from the overwhelming number of embroidered balls thrown at him. Shen Xici was very much looking forward to such a scene.

Just then, a round object descended from the sky. Shen Xici instinctively reached out and caught it. It was white with a dark blue pattern, embroidered with delicate butterflies and peonies, adorned with two tassels at the bottom, and carried a distinct scent of jasmine.

What is this? An embroidered ball?

Shen Xici looked up and saw a square window on the second floor of the wooden building was open. Warm light streamed out. Two young girls in ethnic costumes met his gaze and immediately ducked back under the window, letting out sounds of giggling and shoving.

A moment later, one young girl peeked out the window again and generously invited with a smile: “Brother, it’s getting dark. Would you like to stay and have dinner before you leave?”

Shen Xici’s pupils dilated in shock. The embroidered ball in his hand suddenly felt extremely hot—was he just propositioned in the street?

He hadn’t figured out how to refuse when a long arm suddenly wrapped around his shoulder. Sheng Shaoyan, in a possessive stance, looked up and spoke: “Sorry, I am his ‘Qixiong’ (sworn brother/male companion).”

The word “Qixiong” was even spoken in the local Sui County dialect, with perfect pronunciation, exactly the same as the old lady’s tone.

The two young girls quickly said something in their local dialect and slammed the upstairs window shut with a “bang.”

Shen Xici wondered, Can you even refuse like that? At the same time, he was both surprised and felt guilty: “A’shao… how did you know the meaning of ‘Qixiong’?”

And he was able to use it practically as a shield in this situation.

Sheng Shaoyan’s eyes showed no emotion as he countered: “Did you want to accept her embroidered ball?”

Shen Xici immediately denied it: “How is that possible!”

He wasn’t that casual of a person!

The embroidered ball was snatched from his hand by Sheng Shaoyan and casually hung on the wooden fence by the wall. The light blue and light purple tassels swayed gently.

Shen Xici thought it looked quite good hanging there. The embroidered ball looked like a lot of work went into it, so returning it was for the best.

Just as he was about to continue walking out along the path, the arm around his shoulder suddenly tightened. Shen Xici was completely pressed into Sheng Shaoyan’s embrace. A voice was close to his ear: “They’re still watching.”

His movement to break free stopped. Shen Xici submissively rested his face against the fabric on Sheng Shaoyan’s shoulder, quietly asking: “Are they still watching now?”

“Mhm.”

Dusk had fully settled. The deep blue night sky enveloped them. The distant mountains turned into dark silhouettes. The light from some distant window flickered like a star. The surroundings were extremely quiet, with only the sound of the wind and a few distant dog barks.

Against the low wall, Sheng Shaoyan’s arm encircled Shen Xici. He was still adhering to the attitude he had towards Shen Xici before his amnesia, not crossing the line too much.

He looked down at the jacket on the person in his arms—the jacket that belonged to him—and the fair nape of the neck beneath the wispy hair.

His gaze was indulgent.

His palm held the slender shoulder. Sheng Shaoyan subtly lowered his head, and his lips, separated by the black mask, implicitly brushed against Shen Xici’s soft earlobe.