Jing Mian descended the stairs.
With each step, he could faintly sense the increasingly bright lights downstairs intertwining, merging, and then separating from the dimness behind him.
His legs felt weak, likely a lingering effect of Mr. Ren’s words whispered close to his ear.
He thought to himself that if he were to fall down the stairs now… he would undoubtedly become the most pathetic homeowner in history.
Mr. Ren hadn’t done anything; there was no reason for him to feel anxious or nervous.
Jing Mian nodded slightly to the guests, expressing his gratitude and saying that he had already noted the wedding arrangements and that the attire fit perfectly, requiring no further adjustments.
The three guests exchanged puzzled glances.
After all, they had been chatting animatedly just moments ago, but now Mr. Jing seemed to be subtly hinting at their departure?
Though they suppressed their curiosity, the tailor couldn’t help but notice Jing Mian’s unusual demeanor and asked, “Mr. Jing, are you feeling unwell? Your face seems a bit flushed…”
Jing Mian was taken aback, as if he had just realized it.
In that instant, even his earlobes turned red.
After a brief pause, Jing Mian lowered his voice slightly and said awkwardly, “No… I’m not unwell. Perhaps I just haven’t rested enough.”
“Alright, we’ll take our leave now. Mr. Jing, please get some rest.”
Though still confused, even the most oblivious among them sensed it was time to leave and bid Jing Mian farewell.
After the guests left.
The house fell into silence.
Only then did Jing Mian turn and head back upstairs.
Instead of feeling relieved, his heart tightened even more, pounding fiercely.
Though the room had been cleared, the subtle atmosphere from earlier had already passed, Jing Mian consoled himself.
The study door remained slightly ajar, dark as it had been when he left, as if luring him closer.
But Jing Mian knew,
This time, Mr. Ren was inside.
The young man pushed the door open.
Transitioning from light to dark, his eyes needed time to adjust, but he could faintly make out the room’s general layout under the pale moonlight.
Mr. Ren leaned casually against the desk, seemingly waiting for him.
He wasn’t handling official duties, engrossed in work, or idly scrolling through his phone—he was simply waiting.
As if drawn by some inexplicable force, Jing Mian found himself unable to look away from the scene.
He stepped inside, his heart racing even more than before.
Jing Mian wondered what Mr. Ren’s state of mind was as he waited.
But such a question was beyond his nature to ask, so the answer would forever remain unknown.
Hearing the sound, Mr. Ren looked up, pausing. Jing Mian couldn’t see the man’s face clearly but could feel his gaze resting on him.
Jing Mian whispered, “Mr. Ren?”
Before Mr. Ren could respond, the doorbell suddenly rang downstairs.
The tailor’s face appeared on the screen by the entrance, saying, “Mr. Jing, are you there? Could you open the door? We took the wrong attire for your engagement banquet…” The voice came through the intercom but didn’t reach the second floor.
Hearing the doorbell, Jing Mian instinctively turned to head downstairs, reaching out to pull open the study door.
But before his fingers could touch the handle, another hand reached past him from the side, exerting an opposite force, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.
The room plunged into complete darkness.
Jing Mian’s heart skipped a beat.
Mr. Ren leaned in slightly, encircling him from behind, his chin resting against Jing Mian’s nape. Jing Mian could faintly smell the familiar, subtle fragrance. The man’s hand didn’t move, cutting off any chance of escape, as he asked in a low voice, “Where are you going?”
Jing Mian’s eyelashes fluttered, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He forced himself to stay calm and replied softly, “Someone’s at the door… mmm—”
His lips were captured in a kiss.
The kiss, initiated as he turned, quickly escalated into being flipped around, pressed against the edge of the door and wall, his waist and nape firmly held, leaving no room to breathe.
This time,
It was nearly suffocating.
There was no chance to pull away even slightly. A shiver of electricity accompanied the heat spreading from his nape down his spine. Jing Mian instinctively closed his eyes, and all his senses became even more heightened and vivid.
Unlike the previous kiss, this one was entirely different. The man’s fingertips caressed his nape, the air was completely stolen, and the intensity was almost devouring, their tongues entwining, trembling uncontrollably.
By the time Jing Mian was released in the darkness,
He lowered his head, unable to stop himself from gasping for breath.
His heart pounded violently.
His breathing and heartbeat mingled, unsure which was more tumultuous.
He lowered his gaze, his eyes slowly reddening. The adrenaline rush and the prolonged lack of oxygen caused an uncontrollable mist to gather in his eyes.
The blur gradually intensified.
If he blinked hard now, tears would surely fall.
Jing Mian also realized that during their first kiss on the snowy night by the maple leaves, Mr. Ren had held back significantly, likely because he was still a child and didn’t want to scare him.
But now, this was a genuine kiss between adults.
The impact was overwhelming.
Jing Mian’s legs gave out instantly.
However, Mr. Ren quickly caught him.
Jing Mian faintly sensed that Ren Xingwan was waiting for him—waiting for him to catch his breath, to slowly replenish the lost oxygen, for the mist in his eyes to dissipate slightly.
Then, just as Jing Mian began to recover, before he could even look up to meet Mr. Ren’s gaze, he suddenly felt his feet leave the ground. The man, facing him, had lifted him up.
“!”
Jing Mian was startled and instinctively wrapped his arms around Mr. Ren’s neck.
Since childhood, apart from his older brother who used to carry him, Jing Mian had almost no memory of being held like this once he outgrew childhood. The unfamiliar sensation of being suspended in the air was entirely new to him.
Though Mr. Ren carried him effortlessly and the position felt secure, being held like this as an adult… Jing Mian pursed his lips, inevitably flustered.
Ren Xingwan carried him out of the study.
Jing Mian didn’t know if Mr. Ren had calmed down, but he could faintly hear the man’s accelerated heartbeat through the fabric of his clothes.
Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his throat dry. Despite having been thoroughly kissed and moistened, he still felt parched.
Rather than giving, Mr. Ren seemed more like he was taking.
Jing Mian couldn’t help but wonder, why had they left the bedroom?
Was Mr. Ren taking him somewhere to cool down together?