This line of dialogue was too familiar.

This scene seemed like a re-enactment of the previous night, only with the two actors swapping roles—the one being questioned had become the one doing the questioning.

The system was still marveling in Shi Linchuan’s head: “Host, those are exactly the lines you said to him!”

But at the end of the day—

Last night was last night; today was today. And Shi Linchuan would never become Xie Jinghe.

He didn’t explain. Instead, he poured oil on the fire: “A beautiful woman called me this morning to meet up. Perhaps I stayed in the same cramped space as her and accidentally picked up the scent. Does it smell good?”

The distance between the two was almost nonexistent, separated only by the narrow gap Xie Jinghe’s two palms were pushing against. The black scarf slipped from his fingers, a tail of it falling to the ground and brushing against his own instep.

Shi Linchuan lowered his head slightly, his lips brushing against the lobe of the other man’s ear. His moist lip and teeth sounds were incredibly distinct, and the hot air he breathed out kept drilling into Xie Jinghe’s ear canal.

Itchy. An unbearable itch.

He continued: “Oh, and this new pair of glasses? She helped me pick them out. Do they look good?”

Pressed by Shi Linchuan, Xie Jinghe was pinned against the wall, his head tilting involuntarily to one side, his long neck twisted into an exaggerated line.

Hearing this, the veins on the side of his neck bulged. With every breath, his slender muscles rose and fell in rapid frequency. From Shi Linchuan’s angle, he could clearly see his tightly pursed lips forming a line that looked unhappy and mixed with a sense of grievance.

Truly pitiful.

Unfortunately, Shi Linchuan was hard-hearted and even pressed him further:

“I’m asking you, do they look good or not?”

Xie Jinghe didn’t answer. His hands, braced against the man’s chest, were secretly exerting force, trying to push him away.

Shi Linchuan wouldn’t let him have his way.

He suddenly grabbed Xie Jinghe’s two wrists, jerked them upward, and pressed them overlapping against the wall. At the same time, his two legs pinned Xie Jinghe’s knees, sapping his strength.

The black scarf fell completely to the ground, lying there like a twisted shadow that Shi Linchuan stepped on several times.

Wherever Xie Jinghe turned his head, Shi Linchuan followed, relentlessly pressing him: “Are you mute? Why aren’t you talking? Are you going to cry again?”

He asked several times.

Xie Jinghe suddenly raised his head and glared at him, stiffening his neck as he shouted, “It looks terrible! You look as ugly as the Squash from Plants vs. Zombies—no matter what you wear, it looks terrible!”

He didn’t realize his eye sockets were already red. Paired with his disheveled “just-woke-up” hair, he didn’t look aggressive at all; on the contrary, he looked quite pitiful, like someone about to bristle because they were being bullied.

Every inch of him was screaming: Bluffing.

Shi Linchuan wasn’t angry at being called ugly. He calmly replied, “That’s funny. You’ve slept with this ‘ugly squash’ for three years; do you not have nightmares at night?”

Xie Jinghe didn’t have the strength to fight back, so he simply gave up struggling, completely discarding his usual clinginess in favor of snapping back tit-for-tat.

He replied, “It’s my own fault for having no standards.”

Shi Linchuan followed up, “Then you really must be starving.”

Xie Jinghe said again, “You’re right. If someone just bought me a sickeningly sweet macaron, I’d be able to drop my pants and let them have their way with me multiple times. I’m worthless.”

Shi Linchuan’s mouth hung open: “…”

Xie Jinghe asked, “Do you want to continue?”

Shi Linchuan watched him with a cold face, pinning him even tighter.

Over the past three years, whether Xie Jinghe was whispering softly, vibrant and energetic, or hoarse and coquettish… this was the first time he had ever displayed such sharp-tongued, aggressive behavior. It caught Shi Linchuan off guard, leaving him without a comeback.

Of course, Shi Linchuan wouldn’t back down, but he had worked hard to cook that meal, and it would get cold if they didn’t eat it soon.

Why should I be the one eating cold food just because of Xie Jinghe?

Shi Linchuan stepped back half a pace and slowly released Xie Jinghe’s hands. He hadn’t even finished turning around to head toward the door when the person behind him lunged.

Xie Jinghe’s two arms wrapped around his waist, every single finger digging into his clothes, causing the fabric to wrinkle and bunch.

Shi Linchuan instinctively looked down.

Xie Jinghe’s hands were thin and bony, his knuckles clenched tight, and his pinky finger was uncontrollably trembling several times.

“…Don’t go,” he murmured.

He had probably mistakenly assumed that Shi Linchuan had gotten so fired up from their argument that he was turning around to leave this house for good.

At this moment, his chest was pressed against Shi Linchuan’s back, the rhythm and amplitude of his breathing transmitted in real-time to the man he was hugging.

Fervent and intense, with nothing hidden.

Shi Linchuan couldn’t see his face, so he stared at the door and said nonchalantly, “Why would I leave? I’m hungry; I need to change my shoes and eat.”

“…”

Xie Jinghe was silent for a moment, then asked to himself, “You really had perfume on you just now? Are you really finding someone?”

After a long time.

Shi Linchuan said, “Didn’t you say it yourself? Who would be so desperate as to like an ‘ugly squash’? Did you get amnesia right after saying that?”

Xie Jinghe sniffled: “I’m not… I’m hungry.”

Shi Linchuan: “…”

Xie Jinghe pressed his face against his back, called his name softly, and then whispered—

Shi Linchuan: “Stop talking.”

Hearing this, he continued to speak to himself regardless: “Does she also like how you look in glasses? They’re really sexy. I like you best when you wear glasses, but I like you even when you don’t…”

Shi Linchuan closed his eyes, a sharp pain throbbing in his temple.

“I told you to stop.”

Xie Jinghe kept talking: “I know you didn’t cheat.”

“My head wasn’t very clear last night. I’ve been thinking it over carefully just now… Linchuan, actually, you know I didn’t cheat, right? But you still chose to say those things to me. Why?”

He wasn’t really asking for an answer.

The next second, Shi Linchuan heard him answer for himself:

“…You just hate me.”

As his voice trailed off, Shi Linchuan heard a soft sob. Before it could even escape his throat, he stifled it by pressing him down firmly.

Xie Jinghe rolled his face against his back, not knowing what he was trying to rub away. After a while, he continued: “I know that when people have been married for a long time, the feelings between partners change. The advantages you liked before might turn into flaws. But Linchuan… we’ve only been married for three years, and you already think I’m full of flaws?”

“But what am I supposed to do?”

“I still think you’re wonderful.”

Shi Linchuan couldn’t see Xie Jinghe’s face, but just from his voice—he could hear the enormous bewilderment lingering in his heart. This confusion drifted on the wind, quietly sneaking into Shi Linchuan’s ears, traveling along his blood vessels to his atrium, and taking root in that piece of flesh…

And so, Shi Linchuan was also shrouded in immense confusion.

He was stunned for a few seconds before he couldn’t help but say,

“That’s because…”

“You don’t understand me at all.”