Chapter 127

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Right up until they began shooting, Yang Youming didn’t mention matters beyond filming to Xia Xingcheng. At first, Xia Xingcheng found it odd, but later on, he wholeheartedly threw himself into his role and forgot about the whole affair.

The set’s lighting was somewhat dim since there was another building next to Sun Yao’s small apartment, and the light was blocked by the surrounding tall properties. A ray of sunshine could only stream in through the window every afternoon.

So when Han Bohan followed Sun Yao into his small apartment, he saw Sun Xunyan lying on the single bed outside that Sun Yao normally slept in. At this moment, a beam of light fell on a corner of the bed, while the other places had already darkened.

Sun Yao picked his daughter up and carried her to her room. It was even darker inside, and the sole window faced a wall. The scattering sunlight could only pass through the crevice between the wall and window. It wasn’t so pitch-black that you wouldn’t be able to see your hand in front of you, yet without the light on, a person’s face would be enshrouded by shadows.

Living in such an environment was bound to be unpleasant.

Sun Xunyan’s position was changed so that she lay on her side.

With the flowers he’d bought for Sun Xunyan in his hand, Han Bohan followed behind Sun Yao as he entered the small room, placed the flowers on the window sill, then turned around and asked Sun Yao, “Can I put this here?”

Sun Yao didn’t raise his head, nonchalantly answering, “Go ahead.” He reached under Sun Xunyan’s pajamas and felt her back.

Although he’d quickly retracted his hand, when Han Bohan saw this, his brows wrinkled a little involuntarily.

Sun Yao walked out of the bedroom, then returned with a wet towel a moment later to wipe Sun Xunyan’s sweaty back.

Han Bohan averted his eyes at the sight of Sun Xunyao’s pajamas as it stretched tight and outlined outlining the girl’s figure within a second. He turned around and left the small bedroom.

Soon after, Sun Yao came out with the towel, went to the bathroom to wash it, then said to Han Bohan, “Please have a seat, Prosecutor Han.” He would never directly address Han Bohan by his name—it was probably because calling him by his surname and given name would seem overly stiff, while only calling his given name would seem too intimate.

Han Bohan still called him Sun Yao nevertheless, from their first meeting at the detention centre up until now.

When Sun Yao came out of the bathroom, Han Bohan still hadn’t managed to find somewhere appropriate to sit; the few chairs in the room were all piled up with various bits and bobs. As a result, Sun Yao pulled away the blanket on the bed and gestured for Han Bohan to sit on it.

Han Bohan shot a glance at the wrinkled bed sheets, and said, “It’s all right, I’ll just stand, I won’t stay long.”

Sun Yao tugged at the bedsheets and looked up at him. “They were changed yesterday. It’s not dirty.”

Facing these words of his, Han Bohan had no idea how to refuse. He inwardly thought that—he had no idea how much sweat and bodily fluids had soaked into the bed sheets. He was somewhat resistant to sitting on other people’s beds, yet Sun Yao had directly exposed his thoughts, and he could only feign an uncaring look as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Sun Yao took a few steps back and stood leaning against the dining table.

The room fell silent. Han Bohan watched as the sunlight that came in through the window shifted further and further away, almost disappearing from the room. It was as if it was also taking the dry warmth along with it, leaving the room with a damp, musty odor that was likely mixed in with other smells—perhaps the smell of Sun Yao’s sweat left on the sheets overnight.

This line of thought unsettled him. He sat upright with his hands on his lap, disinclined to touch the bed sheets under him. He asked Sun Yao, “Have you taken Xiao Yan to the hospital for a check-up recently? Is she getting any better?”

Sun Yao said, “We went for a check-up there this Monday. Her condition is the same as usual.”

Han Bohan asked, “Was it troublesome? If you need any help, feel free to contact me.”

Sun Yao replied, “We took a taxi. Some drivers refuse, some don’t, but we always get there in the end.”

Han Bohan nodded. After a while, he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help you guys?”

Sun Yao looked his way. “You’ve already done plenty for us when you helped me find work.”

Han Bohan lowered his eyes. He felt that if he could at least help Sun Yao, he wouldn’t be totally useless.

Sun Yao stood in place for a moment before picking up an electric kettle on the table, intending to go fill it up with water from the bathroom. He said to Han Bohan, “Have some water, I’ll boil it now.”

Han Bohan immediately said, “Don’t trouble yourself. It’s hot out today. If you boil water now, you won’t be able to drink it for a while.”

Sun Yao stopped in his tracks, then put the electric kettle back down on the table. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, deep in thought, then said, “There’s a bottle of mineral water in the fridge.” He then walked over and opened the old fridge next to the dining table.

The fridge was very close to the bed. Han Bohan subconsciously looked up and caught sight of its contents, filled to the brim. It contained raw meat and vegetables for the most part, and there were also a few containers inside. From behind the refrigerator door, Sun Yao took out a bottle of mineral water, and at the same time, Han Bohan saw the cardboard packaging of a cake that sat on the second shelf of the fridge.

Sun Yao quickly closed the fridge and brought the bottle of water over to Han Bohan.

An imprint of the cake box seemed to remain in Han Bohan’s retinas. The cake box was from a famous patisserie in the city. Plenty of young adults would line up to buy their cakes everyday; the queue was long, and the cakes were expensive. The reason why he recognized the packaging was because last night, he had accompanied Shu Mian to queue for over ten minutes to buy her a mango crepe cake.

The mineral water was still in Sun Yao’s hands. Han Bohan didn’t take it. Puzzled, he shook the bottle before Han Bohan’s eyes.

Han Bohan came back to his senses and thanked Sun Yao as he took the bottle of water. It stayed in his hands, unopened, undrunk. He pursed his lips instead, and asked, “That classmate of Xiao Yan’s, does she visit you guys often?”

When he spoke, he kept his gaze trained at Sun Yao’s expression. Sun Yao’s face gave nothing away, and he only asked, “Which classmate?”

Han Bohan said, “A pretty, long-haired girl.”

Sun Yao stood by the bed, looking down at him, a shadow cast over his eyes. His tone was calm and steady as he said, “You mean Shu Mian? You know her?”

Han Bohan answered, “I’ve met her twice.”

Sun Yao suddenly crouched down, looking up at him from a slightly shorter stance. “She’s Xiao Yan’s best friend, the inseparable kind. She often comes to see Xiao Yan.”

Han Bohan and Sun Yao stared at each other. “I saw a cake in the fridge, was that from her?”

Sun Yao said, “It should be. I didn’t notice when she put that there. It must be for Xiao Yan.”

The corner of Han Bohan’s mouth twitched. He wanted to call out Sun Yao’s lie—Sun Xunyan was in no condition to be eating cakes, so that cake could only be for Sun Yao himself. And yet he refrained from speaking. His mind was somewhat muddled, as many thoughts momentarily interweaved, tangled together. He stood up, and said, “I should be on my way. I won’t disturb you.”

When filming ended, Xia Xingcheng was still a little caught up in his character’s state of mind.

He and Yang Youming left the set in the same nanny car. They sat on the very last row, and from the moment they got on, Xia Xingcheng looked slightly restless as he hugged Yang Youming and rubbed against him endlessly.

There was a partition between the back seat and the front, and they were the only two in the enclosed space. Yang Youming’s arms encircled Xia Xingcheng’s waist, looking down at him. “What’s wrong?”

Xia Xingcheng said, “I’m a little uncomfortable.” In fact, it wasn’t him who was uncomfortable, but Han Bohan.

Yang Youming raised his hand and stroked his forehead, his sideburns, his lips; his fingers dry and warm, like he was placating a restless pet. He whispered, “Then what should we do?”

Xia Xingcheng gazed at him. “I need you.”

Like the time Xia Xingcheng had borne Fang Jianyuan’s heartbreak, he desperately needed Yang Youming to sooth his wounds. At present, he bore Han Bohan’s pain, and he urgently yearned for Yang Youming’s comfort.

Not being able to separate himself from his role for a short time was normal, especially when his character went through such strong, turbulent emotions. If he wished to keep his character’s emotions from affecting his life, Xia Xingcheng needed to use his own genuine emotions to keep it at bay.

The nanny car was spacious. Yang Youming told Xia Xingchen to take off his shoes and sit sideways on his lap. His legs were bent as his bare feet tread on the leather seat.

One of his hands stroked Xia Xingcheng’s back incessantly, while his other hand slipped down his lower leg, taking hold of his bare foot and kneading it gently with his thumb and forefinger.

Xia Xingcheng raised his hands and hugged Yang Youming’s neck, leaning in to kiss his lips. It was a mere touch of lips at first, light gentle pecks, but then his teeth were pried open and their tongues tangled hotly

Yang Youming’s appeasing hand on Xia Xingcheng’s back stilled, yet the grip on his foot seemed to tighten instinctively. He pulled Xia Xingcheng’s foot towards his inner thigh, so that they bent and pressed together.

This posture was a little painful for Xia Xingcheng, but he became all the more excited. In the beginning, his thoughts still revolved around that cake box in the fridge, around the cold expression on Sun Yao’s face as he looked up at him, but afterwards, those thoughts left his head entirely, all of him was immersed in this kiss.

Once the kiss ended, Xia Xingchen’s eyes were slightly reddened. He buried his face in Yang Youming’s shoulder.

Yang Youming’s voice was very gentle as he asked him, “Better?”

Xia Xingcheng nodded. He was in a much calmer mood.

Yang Youming raised his hand and stroked his hair.

Xia Xingcheng suddenly raised his head, looked at his hand, and asked, “Didn’t this hand touch my foot just now?”

Yang Youming lowered his hand and looked at it, then said, “Yeah, does your own foot gross you out?”

Xia Xingcheng captured his hand and pushed it away. “It hasn’t been washed for a whole day. Get your hand away from me.”

Yang Youming feigned to cover his mouth, Xia Xicheng immediately turned his head and buried his face in his shoulder again, yelling, “Get it away get it away!”

The two men fooled around for a bout. Xia Xingcheng leaned into his arms, when something abruptly came to mind. He asked, “Before we started shooting—were you mad at something?”

Yang Youming’s tone was as calm as ever. He asked, “Why did you think I was mad?”

Xia Xingcheng said, “Intuition.”

Yang Youming didn’t say anything.

After a moment, Xia Xingcheng couldn’t help but look up at him, and discovered that his eyes had darkened. He thus straightened up and asked, “What happened?” A guess popped up in his mind. “Did you find out who took those photos of us?”

Yang Youming said unhurriedly, “Ling Jiayue took them. It was also her who sent them to the marketing account.”

Xia Xingcheng was instantly struck dumb. His head emptied itself for a split second before he recalled the look of hatred in Ling Jiayue’s eyes as she looked at him. He also remembered that, before they left the set, he hadn’t spotted Ling Jiayue at all. She ought to have headed back to the hotel first.

He didn’t ask why. He knew why—he just didn’t expect that a young girl could actually do such a thing. Xia Xingcheng slowly frowned. Instead of being overcome by an intense fury or hatred, he merely felt a vague discomfort in his heart.

Yang Youming said, “I’m mad.” His tone was serene, and his face looked indifferent, but his words carried a heavy weight.

Xia Xingcheng lowered his leg from the car seat, stepped on his shoes, and reached for his phone. He wanted to call Huang Jixin and inform him of the current situation.

Right as his hand came into contact with his phone, Yang Youming’s phone rang first. He glanced at the screen, then said, “It’s Chen Hailan.”

Xia Xingcheng thus held the phone and listened in on the call. After Yang Youming picked up, he merely let out an ‘Mm’ and continued to listen to Chen Hailan speak, but Xia Xingcheng saw that the look in Yang Youming’s eyes hadn’t let up.

A moment later, Yang Youming hung up and said, “Chen Hailan is at the airport. He’s coming over tonight. Ren Jingyuan is with him. They asked to meet them for dinner.” Seeing that Xia Xingcheng was watching him so intensely, he lifted a hand and scratched at his nose.

Xia Xingcheng wanted to say something at first, yet he ended up frowning ferociously after his nose was scratched. He grabbed Yang Youming’s hand, and said, “Don’t touch my face again until you wash your hands!”

☆ ☆ ☆

Thank you to Paola for the kofi! ❤

t/n – the cat’s out of the bag! i’m pretty sure you all saw this coming LMAO

⟵ Chapter 126 | TOC | Chapter 128 ⟶

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