The melody from the car stereo gradually faded out. A second later, the passenger door was pulled open.

Luo Ye bent down and slid into the car, pulling the door shut briskly to keep the cold air outside from creeping in.

“Eat up, hurry, eat!” Luo Ye took the rice ball out of his bag, holding it steadily with his left hand while dipping his head to rummage through his bag with the other for napkins. “He forgot to give me napkins, so let me check if I have any in my bag.”

Luo Ye rummaged for quite a while before finally finding a tissue, yet the weight of the rice ball in his hand hadn’t lessened in the slightest.

Why isn’t he taking it?

Puzzled, Luo Ye looked up, only to find Chi Zhiyue gazing at him in silence. As for what that look meant—well, Luo Ye couldn’t read it anyway.

“What’s wrong?” Luo Ye instinctively covered his cheek, wearing a bewildered expression. “Is there something on my face?”

Chi Zhiyue gently shook his head, taking the rice ball from his hand, his tone exceptionally soft: “I was just thinking about how you actually remembered this. Even I forgot.”

“Huh? It’s no big deal.” Luo Ye took it as a given, opening the tissue packet and handing a sheet to Chi Zhiyue. “I passed by the shop and thought of it, so I bought it.”

Chi Zhiyue unwrapped the packaging, and the pork floss inside immediately tumbled out in a flurry.

Luckily, Luo Ye had the foresight to place a tissue underneath; otherwise, the car floor would have gotten a full meal.

“What a huge rice ball,” Chi Zhiyue remarked. It was nearly the size of his palm.

Judging by Luo Ye’s tone, it had probably been about half an hour since he bought it, yet the rice ball in his hands remained warm, feeling as though it had just come out of the shop.

“Because I got lucky today—they swapped the staff,” Luo Ye explained while taking off his down jacket.

“Swapped staff?” Chi Zhiyue smoothly took the coat and placed it on the back seat.

Fastening his seatbelt, Luo Ye chattered on, “When I bought it, the owner’s son happened to be covering the shift. That guy piles on the fillings like crazy—grabbing massive handfuls every time. I asked him if the shop was closing down tomorrow, and he said this wasn’t even enough for him to eat on his own, so he tossed in a whole bunch of extra pork floss for us.”

Listening to him, Chi Zhiyue couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh: “And then?”

“No idea what happened after. I paid and left, so I can only pray for that brother’s good luck.” Luo Ye pressed his palms together, praying with all earnestness.

Little did he know, someone’s gaze was unconsciously sliding down from the bridge of his nose, grazing past his slightly upturned lips, trailing down the graceful contours of his neck, and settling upon the form-fitting black sweater.

The ring hanging around his neck swayed gently with the slight rise and fall of his chest.

The decorative silver chain draped around his waist refracted delicate glints of light. At the very center of the chain, the eyes of the serpent pendant shone with the exact same emerald-green hue as Luo Ye’s own eyes.

Not a single detail was anything less than striking.

Chi Zhiyue knew this was a popular style lately. He couldn’t help but wonder: if Luo Ye wore something thinner, would that winding silver chain leave a faint imprint against his lower abdomen?

Luo Ye’s skin wasn’t pale; it was a healthy, light honey tone. If the red marks from the silver chain wound around his waist and abdomen, he couldn’t begin to imagine how stunning that would look.

I’ll get to see it eventually.

Chi Zhiyue reined in his racing heartbeat, quietly pulling his gaze back, and took a bite of the rice ball. The mouthfeel was packed with filling, seasoned just right—neither too salty nor too bland.

Moreover, black rice had been mixed into the grains, giving it an ideal chew with a hint of sweetness.

When Luo Ye opened his eyes, Chi Zhiyue was savoring it slowly: “It’s really good.”

Luo Ye immediately lifted his chin proudly: “Good, right? I’ve recommended this shop to plenty of people, and it has a zero-complaint record.”

Looking at Luo Ye’s empty hands, Chi Zhiyue asked curiously, “Aren’t you eating?”

“I finished mine on the way here,” Luo Ye said. “The signature flavor at that shop is actually salmon, but since I didn’t know if you liked fish, I just got the classic.”

“This one is very tasty too,” Chi Zhiyue paused, then added with a smile, “Actually, I have something for you as well.”

“What is it?”

“Open the compartment in front of you.” Chi Zhiyue lifted his chin, gesturing with his eyes toward the glove box on the passenger side.

Following his gaze, Luo Ye opened the storage drawer.

Inside sat two boxes of white chocolate wafer sticks—his absolute favorite brand.

Luo Ye’s eyes lit up instantly, and he hurriedly pulled them out: “Ah? How did you know I liked these?”

“We’re dating after all; I should know at least a few of my partner’s preferences,” Chi Zhiyue said with a smile.

“Haha, true, we are dating after all.” Luo Ye scratched his chin awkwardly.

Could he really admit it? He had been so dizzy from editing videos these past two days that he hadn’t even remembered they were in a relationship when walking out the door.

It wasn’t until Chi Zhiyue uttered the word “dating” that the realization hit him.

People always find ways to keep busy when embarrassed. After opening the packaging, Luo Ye busied himself tidying the wrappers, straightened his seatbelt, and finally popped a chocolate stick into his mouth.

He stole a sidelong glance at Chi Zhiyue.

Chi Zhiyue was eating the rice ball with refined grace, holding his phone in his other hand to check the GPS navigation.

A few minutes later, Chi Zhiyue packed away the remaining third of the rice ball, tucked it into the car console compartment, and turned to Luo Ye: “Let’s head out first.”

“Mm, okay.” Luo Ye put his phone away and asked offhandedly, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll know when we get there.” Chi Zhiyue offered a mysterious smile and started the car.

The car navigated through several familiar streets before gradually entering an area unfamiliar to Luo Ye, eventually pulling up in front of a building that looked like an office complex.

Luo Ye was utterly baffled: “Are we… here to look for a job?”

Chi Zhiyue shook his head: “No, I’m just parking here. We still have a bit of a walk to our actual destination.”

Before Luo Ye could respond, the gentle, crisp scent of cedar mingled with Thousand Mountain Year fragrance drifted over.

In the next second, Chi Zhiyue leaned over toward his side, his features suddenly enlarging right before Luo Ye’s eyes.

Luo Ye instinctively held his breath, only to see Chi Zhiyue reach out and gently unbuckle his seatbelt.

Tilting his head, Chi Zhiyue smiled at him: “Wait for me here; I’ll come out after parking.”

Fixing his gaze firmly on the dimple at the corner of Chi Zhiyue’s lips, Luo Ye answered slowly: “Oh, okay.”

Not looking any longer, he decisively opened the door and stepped out as the car rolled past him into the underground garage.

Standing at the street corner, Luo Ye looked up at the floating countdown, his mind involuntarily replaying the scene of Chi Zhiyue leaning close just moments ago.

…It was just like in the TV dramas.

No, actually a bit faster than in dramas—no stalling for runtime.

It seemed that the next time he edited a scene like this, he could focus on cutting from the front-car perspective. That angle put an immense demand on the actor’s looks and complexion.

Luckily, Chi Zhiyue had great skin, and his profile was exceptional too…

“Holy crap, work really has driven me crazy!” Luo Ye slapped his own forehead hard. “Finding more work for myself again.”

Afraid of thinking about video editing any further, he leaned against a wall corner and scrolled through short-form videos.

Then, within a brief five-minute span of videos, the shake-to-open ad sensors triggered three mini-game downloads onto his phone.

Luo Ye: “…”

When Chi Zhiyue came out, he saw Luo Ye playing a game in landscape mode, his brow furrowed, lips pressed together, looking remarkably earnest.

Chi Zhiyue quietly walked up, bent down with a bright smile, and asked softly, “What are you playing?”

Without looking up, Luo Ye said, “Helping a mother and daughter build a new house, then rescuing a guy about to be buried under rocks, and finally doing basic arithmetic to upgrade gear and fight monsters.”

Chi Zhiyue: “?”

When the game hit another ad break, Luo Ye rolled his eyes helplessly, kindly lifting his phone to show the screen to Chi Zhiyue.

Seeing the crude 3D character moving back and forth on the screen, Chi Zhiyue understood instantly and burst out laughing.

“You actually download these clickbait ad games?” Chi Zhiyue teased with a smile.

As he spoke, his fingers naturally reached over, taking hold of Luo Ye’s hand.

This time, Luo Ye didn’t pull away. His gaze merely lingered on their intertwined knuckles for a couple of seconds before looking away.

“I didn’t even move the phone and it said it was preparing to download. A seismograph isn’t even this sensitive,” Luo Ye muttered, pocketing his phone.

“Whenever that happens to me, I just swipe back to the home screen immediately.” Chi Zhiyue gave Luo Ye’s fingers a gentle squeeze, as if reminding him it was time to go.

Luo Ye looked up and said, “That trick of yours is pretty similar to a friend of mine.”

Chi Zhiyue smiled, saying nothing more as he held his hand and walked forward slowly.

The path looked rather quiet. The trees lining both sides were laden with white snow, with few pedestrians passing by.

As it happened, Luo Ye’s attention wasn’t on the surrounding scenery either; he was focused entirely on the bet they had made earlier.

Thirty-two minutes of the countdown in the sky had already ticked away, yet Chi Zhiyue hadn’t made a single move.

Did this guy forget? Luo Ye muttered inwardly.

While he was lost in thought, the hand holding his suddenly came to a stop. Caught off guard, Luo Ye nearly swung his arm forward.

Just as he was about to ask, “What is it?”, his gaze inadvertently swept forward, and he froze on the spot.

Not far away, in front of an entrance, stood a massive standee display.

On the display, light beams radiated outward, converging upon a five-member band singing their hearts out on stage.

Below it, a bold line of text was printed with crystal clarity:

[Wild Grass Band Special Live Performance — Starting Soon]

Luo Ye’s eyes widened in sheer shock. He slowly turned his head to look at Chi Zhiyue beside him: “You… this…”

Chi Zhiyue gave him a faint smile, his tone relaxed: “I asked you last time and didn’t get a reply, so I guessed you didn’t manage to get tickets. How is it? Happy?”

Happy? Of course he was happy! This was an absolute direct hit to Luo Ye’s heart.

Right now, he was so thrilled he wanted to jump up on the spot and launch himself into the stratosphere.

“When did you prepare this?!” Luo Ye grabbed Chi Zhiyue’s hands in excitement, his eyebrows practically taking flight.

“Mm… quite a while ago.”

“Before New Year’s Eve?” Luo Ye asked.

“Yes. So even if we weren’t together right now, I probably would have asked you out yesterday or the day before.” Chi Zhiyue lowered his head, glancing down at their separated hands. Turning his wrist, he intertwined his fingers with Luo Ye’s once more.

Luo Ye was far too excited to notice the gesture.

His mind was filled entirely with the performance, and he eagerly pulled Chi Zhiyue toward the venue.

The venue was quite large. Standing by the ticket check, many young people were carrying large backpacks and duffels, some even wheeling suitcases—looking as if they had rushed over straight from the high-speed rail station.

Luo Ye had done things like that in the past, traveling with Luo Peng, arriving at noon and leaving right after the show wrapped up.

Attending a live show was, after all, pure adrenaline and passion.

People from all corners of the world gathered together for a shared love, all for those three hours of freedom and revelry.

Looking at the bustling scene before him, Luo Ye couldn’t help but sigh inwardly: It really is great to be alive.

He could still attend shows; he hadn’t truly died.

Luo Ye instinctively headed toward the back of the line to queue for ticket verification. After just a few steps, Chi Zhiyue pulled him back.

Luo Ye turned around, puzzled: “What is it?”

“No need to queue; we can just take the special entrance,” Chi Zhiyue pointed to the sparsely populated VIP lane nearby. “Mine aren’t regular admission tickets.”

Luo Ye froze for a moment, then followed Chi Zhiyue toward the VIP entrance.

Chi Zhiyue pulled out his phone, let the ticket inspector scan the code, and they passed right through.

Using the VIP lane for the first time, Luo Ye couldn’t help but look back at the long queues, slowly giving Chi Zhiyue a thumbs-up: “What other surprises does my beloved subject have that this Emperor doesn’t know about?”

Chi Zhiyue chuckled and said, “I didn’t buy the tickets; a friend gave them to me.”

Luo Ye came to a sudden realization: “Oh—your friend works in event production, right?”

“…Something like that.” Chi Zhiyue added with a smile, “I’ll introduce you to him later. He’s quite eager to meet you.”

“Sure, sure!” Luo Ye nodded in agreement.

Chi Zhiyue’s eyes crinkled into a gentle smile.

Luo Ye assumed Chi Zhiyue would take him straight inside to find their seats. Unexpectedly, they took a turn and walked into a long corridor walled with glass on all sides.

The corridor was lined with tables and chairs, where quite a few people were sitting, eating snacks, and chatting.

“It’s still early, let’s just look around for a bit first,” Chi Zhiyue said.

“Oh.” Luo Ye had no objections. In any case, his brain was still stuck on those ridiculous clickbait mobile games from earlier, so he simply followed Chi Zhiyue’s lead the entire way.

The two strolled from the West Hall to the East Hall. The East Hall was an art gallery, filled with people casually browsing and taking in the sights just like them.

Luo Ye stepped up to a decorative hanging painting, pondering whether these pieces were authentic originals.

In the next second, he heard Chi Zhiyue say: “It’s an original. This is an oil painting created by a French artist in 1870, depicting the sweetheart he yearned for day and night. The graceful lines embody the artistic spirit of that era. After changing hands multiple times, it came into the possession of the Chinese collector Mr. He, and was finally displayed in this art gallery.”

Luo Ye looked at him in disbelief: “You even know about this stuff?”

Chi Zhiyue: “I don’t.”

Luo Ye: “Then how did you know that?”

Chi Zhiyue pointed to the golden informational plaque beneath the frame: “I just have good eyesight.”

Luo Ye: “…”

After doing a round, the two returned to the glass corridor and walked toward the performance stage.

Looking through the glass ceiling, Luo Ye checked the one-hour date countdown—less than ten minutes remained.

The moment they stepped out of the corridor, he stopped by a beverage vending machine nearby. After hesitating for a few seconds, he couldn’t resist asking Chi Zhiyue: “Did you forget about that bet?”

“No, I still remember.” Chi Zhiyue tilted his head, his eyes curving with a smile. “What’s wrong? Are you looking forward to what I’ll ask you to do?”

“No way!” Luo Ye retorted immediately. “I’m just reminding you out of a sense of fairness. After all, you treated me to a concert today; if I played dumb, would I even be human?”

Chi Zhiyue looked at him quietly for several seconds, then suddenly dipped his head and chuckled softly.

He laughed for quite a while before stopping. Slowly extending his hand, his pinky hooked around Luo Ye’s: “That’s exactly what I like about you. But don’t worry, the timing is just right now.”

“Just right? So what do you want me to do?” Luo Ye asked.

Chi Zhiyue let go of Luo Ye’s hand, took a step back, leaned against the adjacent wall, and spread his arms wide: “It’s very simple. Give me a hug.”

Luo Ye was stunned: “…Here?”

Chi Zhiyue: “What’s wrong with here?”

Luo Ye pointed behind him: “…Don’t you think there are too many people?”

This was the mandatory pathway leading into the performance hall. Just in the time they had been talking, over a dozen people had walked past them.

“It’s fine, really.” Chi Zhiyue shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just a hug. Don’t normal friends do that too? What’s more, we’re a couple.”

The thought of two grown men hugging out of nowhere in broad daylight made Luo Ye feel awkward all over. His voice hitched: “That might be true, but…”

Chi Zhiyue cast his eyes down, slowly letting his arms fall, gently rubbing his fingertips together as he murmured in a low voice: “Alright then, let’s just pretend the bet doesn’t count. Let’s go in.”

How could Luo Ye possibly stand seeing him put on such a resigned, accommodating front?

Especially after the guy had just treated him to a concert.

Even just for the sake of the concert, he had to agree—otherwise, would he even be human?

Steeling his resolve and gritting his teeth, Luo Ye grabbed Chi Zhiyue and pulled him toward the corner up ahead.

People passing by would only hurry past the opening, rarely bothering to walk all the way in. It could be considered a relatively secluded corner.

A few spotlights happened to illuminate the two of them, casting their shadows long and slender, angling across the wall with a curved bend.

Luo Ye gripped Chi Zhiyue’s wrist with considerable force, turning the man around directly to face him.

In the moment the other was caught off guard, Luo Ye slipped his arms beneath his armpits and wrapped them around his back.

Luo Ye pressed his entire body forward, resting his forehead against the crook of his shoulder, completing the hug.

This was Luo Ye’s first time hugging a man taller and broader than himself. The awkwardness didn’t vanish with the embrace; his posture remained somewhat stiff.

At the very least, there was no feeling of repulsion. Instead, he could catch the faint, pleasant scent of cedar on Chi Zhiyue.

Not daring to look at what he was doing, Luo Ye simply squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “Is this good enough?”

The other didn’t answer him, merely standing there quietly.

Luo Ye didn’t care either way, silently counting in his head, planning to let go once he reached ten seconds.

“Nine… ten… ah!”

Just as he reached the count of ten, when his chest had pulled only a few centimeters away from Chi Zhiyue’s body, a pair of strong, powerful hands suddenly clamped firmly onto his lower back.

It wasn’t an embrace over the coat like his had been—those hands reached directly inside his jacket.

Luo Ye could distinctly feel those two large, warm hands resting securely against his lower back.

Even through a layer of fabric, their body heat intertwined without hindrance, spreading through every limb and bone.

The sensation was bizarre, like delicate electric currents zipping across his entire body.

Luo Ye instinctively tensed up, his scalp tingling with a wave of numbness. He tried to push Chi Zhiyue away: “Hey, you!”

In the next second, Chi Zhiyue dipped his head slightly, burying his face deep into the side of his neck, his lips lightly grazing that patch of bare skin.

The instant that wave of warmth washed over him, Luo Ye froze completely on the spot.

The other’s voice was pressed impossibly low, overflowing with tender intimacy, word by word:

“There are still seven minutes left, Luo Ye.”

__

Author’s Note:

All rise!! Type 1 if you think this is romantic!

Little Wolf Chi is a textbook case of a sweet exterior hiding a scheming core!! Last time it was holding hands, this time it’s a hug, next time it’ll be a gourd (?)

Hehehehe, where are you going to run with seven minutes left? Xiao Ye, you actually thought the time was too short?!

Next time when it’s seventy minutes, you’ll be clutching your lower belly saying “Enough, enough, it’s completely full!” (?)