By Zephyria 
While Jing Mian was leaning on his pen, staring at the screen, the study door suddenly knocked.
Jing Mian glanced sideways, pausing the lecture video on his computer, and asked, “Husband?”
At this hour, he had assumed the man needed the study for something, but when he looked up, he saw Mr. Ren standing at the door.
—In the man’s right arm, he was holding a bouquet of blue roses.
The petals were lush and dense, vividly striking, their edges lightly dotted with dewdrops, as if exuding an extremely faint fragrance.
Jing Mian held his breath slightly.
Mr. Ren’s voice carried an inexplicable heaviness, slightly hoarse, as he said, “Someone just delivered flowers.”
Jing Mian’s brows froze for a moment before he remembered, he had ordered flowers before leaving home. But later, his husband’s confession on the cruise had completely pushed the matter out of his mind.
He hadn’t expected the flowers to be received by the man himself.
Jing Mian felt flustered, awkwardly explaining, “I… casually ordered them before heading out. A Qixi gift for you.”
“Mm.”
Ren Xingwan lowered his gaze, his voice deep and unhurried. “I saw the card.”
……
Jing Mian nodded.
Suddenly, he wasn’t sure how to continue the conversation.
He thought, gifts like these were undoubtedly best given in person. Now that the clock had passed midnight, not only had he missed the perfect timing, but he’d also lost most of the unique atmosphere that came with a face-to-face gift exchange.
Like right now.
Jing Mian noticed that Mr. Ren was quieter than usual and didn’t steer the conversation further.
Just as Jing Mian was spacing out, he suddenly realized that Mr. Ren, still holding the roses, was walking toward him.
The roses were placed on the edge of the desk, their glistening dewdrops dripping onto the flat surface, reflecting scattered blue fragments.
When Jing Mian was lifted by the waist, his mind was still in a daze.
Instead of being set down, he was settled into the man’s lap, feeling the solid warmth beneath him.
Jing Mian seemed to realize something, his face burning instantly.
Today was Qixi.
A holiday meant for lovers, though neither had explicitly mentioned it, fulfilling certain obligations was likely unavoidable.
Jing Mian’s throat bobbed slightly. Cutting straight to the point, he asked softly, “Do you want to do it?”
……
After a brief pause, Jing Mian heard what sounded like a chuckle from Mr. Ren.
Low and fleeting.
When the man spoke, though his tone was cool and gentle, his voice betrayed no emotion. “Confessions come with a price.”
“MianMian.”
“Until you no longer see sex as a marital obligation.”
His voice was soft, devoid of the intimidating aura of the Ren family’s young master. Ren Xingwan parted his lips and said, “I won’t do it without your permission.”
“Nor will I kiss you without consent.”
……
Jing Mian blinked in surprise, his gaze clouded with confusion.
Having never had similar romantic experiences to draw from, Jing Mian hadn’t considered that one of the “prices” of confession would include this.
But as a grown man with normal human desires, if the answer remained unclear… would Mr. Ren really have to abstain forever?
He suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the man.
After a few seconds of contemplation, Jing Mian asked quietly, “What will you do when you… want to act on your desires?”
Perhaps it was just an offhand question, but Jing Mian only realized after speaking how easily it could be misinterpreted.
Sure enough, Mr. Ren froze for a moment.
Jing Mian pressed, “Use your hand?”
Ren Xingwan: “……”
When his pajamas were stripped off, Jing Mian was still dazed, thinking that Husband was about to break his promise and go back on his word.
But a few minutes later, Jing Mian realized he had completely misunderstood the man.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
…
“MianMian.”
“Keep your legs… a little closer together.”
When Mr. Ren’s voice sounded by his ear, Jing Mian froze for a moment before lowering his lashes, the nape of his neck trembling uncontrollably.
Jing Mian pressed his lips together, trying to sound as composed as possible, though his nose stung with unshed tears as he whispered, “Husband… I don’t have the strength.”
Soon, he felt the faintest brush of lips against the strands of hair on his forehead, Mr. Ren’s.
The next moment—
In his line of sight, Husband freed one hand and grasped his knees.
… Both knees at once.
Mr. Ren’s hands were large, veins faintly pronounced against pale, slender fingers, pleasing to the eye whether in reality or on camera.
And now, that very hand spread and closed around his knees, rendering him unable to part his legs. The joints of his knees flushed a soft pink, the contrast stark.
The visual impact made Jing Mian’s lashes quiver, his entire spine tingling with numbness.
But soon, what captured his attention was no longer that hand.
Instead, it was the relentless advance of a fierce blade between two pale jade columns.
The blade was broad and long, and even with the jade obscuring half of it, most of its length remained exposed, occasionally brushing against him. With just the slightest contact, Jing Mian quickly succumbed, lowering his head with reddened eyes as he tried to block it with his palm.
Yet, unexpectedly, Husband’s now-free hand suddenly pressed down on the back of his hand.
Now, not only were his knees immobilized, but so was the hand that had instinctively tried to save himself.
Mr. Ren asked him, “Do you know what blue roses symbolize?”
Jing Mian shook his head in confusion, choking on his own saliva before coughing softly. “…No.”
A warm breath grazed his ear as Mr. Ren murmured, “They represent love beyond words.”
Jing Mian’s lashes trembled.
Then, his palm was also overtaken, guided to tighten around the blade as if to envelop and warm its relentless advance. There was no retreat, his fingers and the spaces between them were soon drenched in the enemy’s moisture.
And his own.
Even though it wasn’t an obligation, Jing Mian didn’t understand why tears kept falling, dripping onto the back of Husband’s hand where it covered his own. The droplets scattered along the veins from the jostling, spreading like tiny rivulets.
Soon, a second drop followed, then a third.
Sitting in the man’s embrace, the soft pattering of tears was drowned out by the sound of surging waves, barely audible.
Wrapped in a thin blanket, Jing Mian was carried by Husband straight back to the bedroom.
Glancing at the clock, he realized it was long past midnight.
But at least, unlike the times when they truly fulfilled their obligations, the boy could miss the faint glow of dawn and fall asleep peacefully in the deep of night.
His pajamas had been replaced with Husband’s, the sleeves and pant legs far too loose on his frame. Jing Mian drowsily burrowed under the covers, feeling clean and comfortable, Mr. Ren had, as always, tidied him up afterward.
Except for the redness between his thighs, the lingering sensation still felt foreign.
Jing Mian lowered his lashes, the flush creeping up to the tips of his ears.
But what replayed in his mind wasn’t what had just happened.
Husband’s confession under the night sky, those few words, his magnetic and pleasant voice, even the faint cool scent of the sea breeze, the grand fireworks blooming across the sky, every moment and every frame seemed branded into his mind, uncontrollably replaying over and over.
“I like you.”
“Spending my life with you is my selfish desire.”
“First choice.”
“I was born for you.”
……
In the dark bedroom, the clock no longer felt endlessly lonely and desolate, replaced and filled instead by vivid memories.
Wrapped in the familiar scent of Husband, the nightlight on the second floor dimmer than the one in the master bedroom, the young man could only gaze at the boundless ceiling through the faint moonlight.
Jing Mian clutched the edge of the blanket, his lashes gradually relaxing as he drifted into sleep, weary.
As the season neared its end,
The semifinals were also about to conclude.
The Glory forums were in a frenzy, with trending posts popping up endlessly. The most discussed topic was undoubtedly the two teams that had just broken through the competition.
【ME. made it through!!】
【Incredible】
【Ahhhh!!!】
【The two Teams I’ve been most looking forward to are finally facing off, sob】
【Looking at the points, AUB. is really steady, no surprise as last year’s overall champions. Shock leads the team well, they’ve only lost one match from the national tournament up till now.】
【ME. has lost three matches so far.】
【ME. isn’t stable enough. Relying only on new members, honestly, they won’t go far.】
【? Are you a Shock fan upstairs? Even if ME. loses to AUB. in the finals, they’ll still qualify for the world tournament alongside AUB. They’re going international, how is that not going far?】
Since its establishment, this was the first time ME. had qualified for the finals, which also meant that in the upcoming World Glory Tournament, ME. would represent their country.
No honor in the world could excite a young esports player more than winning a world championship.
But the forum’s overwhelming sentiment leaned heavily toward AUB., as AUB. had won twice in history, one being a rising lineup of streamers who fought their way to the finals, and the other a historically dominant champion with solid footing and formidable strength.
Jing Mian stood by the table, his backpack placed on the nearby couch. After a day of training at the club, he was sipping hot coffee in small gulps, preparing for that night’s livestream, when the phone beside him suddenly rang.
It was someone from the club. Jing Mian answered, and the voice on the other end was brimming with excitement, shouting:
“MianMian, the PK rankings have been updated!”
“You’re in the top five now!!”
There seemed to be others around, voices overlapping:
“He jumped from sixth to fourth on the God Leaderboard! This is insane, ahhh—!”
Jing Mian’s brows twitched. He straightened up, picked up his phone, logged into his account, and quickly navigated to the PK rankings.
His ID, “sheep,” was now ranked fourth after the update.
Jing Mian glanced upward.
Between him and Ash, two IDs stood in the way.
Jing Mian heard his own heartbeat, rapid and uncontrollable.
Though the top three avatars gleamed with striking gold, his own frame remained gray.
But Jing Mian sat there, looking down at his phone, setting it aside, only to pick it up again and again.
The PK rankings’ points had always been earned through genuine effort, players fought for them in matches, training, and tournaments, a true symbol of absolute skill.
In reality, there seemed to be an insurmountable gap between every ID on the PK leaderboard, as vast as an ocean. Just like how Ash’s unshakable first place remained untouched, despite Greek’s relentless efforts over the years, he had never managed to surpass or even come close to that undying legend who upheld the faith of countless Glory players.
Jing Mian was quietly delighted for a long while.
The young man pulled on his coat and glanced down, reluctant to even exit the update screen.
At the same time, Ren Congmian attended the evening gala event.
Chen Ke followed the entire proceedings until the interview segment, where he saw a reporter nervously raise a question: “I’d like to ask you something unrelated to films. The hottest game right now, ‘Glory,’ is about to hold its finals.”
“There are rumors that you personally attended a group qualifier match.”
“Since players are very curious, may I boldly ask, between the two teams AUB and ME, which one do you support?”
The woman held up her microphone as the man’s striking features were outlined by the stage lights, making her heart race. “Or rather, which player’s performance are you most looking forward to?”
The other reporters fell silent, ready to witness the fallout.
Such an obviously off-topic question would undoubtedly be ignored by Ren Congmian. Yet, to their surprise, they saw the man part his lips and answer expressionlessly:
“ME.”
The reporter’s eyes widened in shock before lighting up, she hadn’t expected Ren to respond, though he had skipped her second question.
But then, as if he hadn’t finished, his cold, magnetic voice echoed through the cameras:
“The player whose ID is from Qingfeng District.”
The air froze for a moment.
Chen Ke, standing nearby, felt his heart leap into his throat.
So that wasn’t the answer to the first question.
Both sentences were solely addressing the second question.
But…
Which player was from Qingfeng District?
Two strangers who seemed entirely unrelated, shining in their respective fields, had just been connected in an almost surreal way.
The first to recover was the female reporter who had asked the initial question. Her heart pounding, she pressed on nervously: “Do you have any blessings for this player?”
When the man spoke, people unconsciously held their breaths, listening intently:
“Wish him a good time.”
…
Wish his little one—
To return draped in glory, laden with triumph.