Jing Mian held his breath slightly, his gaze freezing in place.
He said, “Okay.”
Seeing that Ren Xingwan hadn’t moved, Jing Mian’s expression unconsciously cleared a little. His eyelashes fluttered as he said, “Husband, you can go wash first. I can wait a while.”
Previously, there had been two bathrooms, and Mr. Ren usually slept later than him, so their schedules never overlapped.
Even if they did, they could always use another room’s shower, never disturbing each other.
But now, when Jing Mian, who still subconsciously believed this, met Mr. Ren’s gaze, the man remained silent for a long moment before saying, “I didn’t make myself clear.”
When Jing Mian was lifted from the couch, he was still a little dazed.
Enveloped firmly in his husband’s embrace, the warmth and scent of alcohol seemed to blend with the faint fragrance of his neck. Even Jing Mian, breathing in the man’s scent, felt his mind grow hazy, his ears quickly burning as he heard his husband’s voice murmur beside him:
“We’re going together.”
Jing Mian’s fingers trembled slightly where they hung.
Since Jing Mian had moved into this detached house, though he knew there was a bathtub in the bathroom, he had never used it, nor had he seen Mr. Ren use it.
So when the bathtub filled with water and steam gradually fogged up the glass, Jing Mian was placed inside by his husband. Instantly surrounded by the gentle, warm water, he suddenly realized that soaking might be more soothing than showering, and the space was larger, too.
But then, as the water level rose and his back pressed flush against his husband’s chest without any barrier, Jing Mian found it impossible to remain calm.
The nape of his neck and his ears quickly flushed red.
Aside from the steam,
it was likely because he had been suddenly bitten.
Jing Mian’s pupils trembled, and he couldn’t help but shrink back slightly, though instinct made him stop.
“…Husband.”
The man lifted his gaze, voice low. “Hm?”
Jing Mian pressed his lips together and whispered, “Don’t break the skin.”
Mr. Ren paused, his voice rough. “Why?”
Jing Mian lowered his lashes, his back and shoulders flushed pink.
“There’s a group project the day after tomorrow. If there are marks… my classmates will see.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Jing Mian felt the pressure of teeth against his nape tighten, just slightly.
Like a beast clamping down on the back of his neck, leaving him too afraid to move, only able to let out a weak, muffled whimper.
Just as Jing Mian thought he might really be bitten until he bled, the pressure stopped just short, the sensation fading as the air touched his damp skin, sending a cool shiver through him.
“Understood.”
He heard Mr. Ren’s voice.
Jing Mian lowered his gaze, staring at his knees above the water as droplets slid from his hair and fell with a soft splash.
Then, he saw a pair of large, elegant hands block his dazed vision, and grip his knees.
Jing Mian’s pupils froze.
The next second, those hands parted them to either side.
…
Heat easily sapped one’s strength.
This was something the sober yet forcibly carried-off-to-bathe-together person learned firsthand.
The sounds within his senses echoed hollowly in the semi-enclosed bathroom, even blurring at times.
Only the sound of water remained unbroken, its reverberations intense.
He had thought their previous obligations were the limit, but his lover proved with actions that, the first two times, his husband had held back out of consideration for him.
After who knew how long, Jing Mian faintly heard the phone, dropped with their clothes on the floor, ringing again.
This was the second time.
The first time it rang, they had ignored it.
As soon as Jing Mian spoke, he realized his voice was slightly hoarse, soft and tinged with a nasal tone: “Husband, there’s a phone call.”
…
The obligation barely paused.
Jing Mian felt a kiss on his forehead as Mr. Ren said, “It’s your phone. It’s rung twice.”
Jing Mian thought blankly for a moment. “At this hour… it’s probably the group chat for my major needing a reply.”
For any notifications related to their major, roommates usually informed each other. But since Jing Mian spent most of his time away from the dorm, if he didn’t respond, the calls would likely keep coming persistently.
Jing Mian decided he should probably answer it.
But the moment he shifted slightly, his ears flushed red instantly. Pressing his lips together, his voice almost escaped through gritted teeth: “Husband, you… pull out first.”
Mr. Ren lowered his gaze, gripping Jing Mian’s waist and lifting him slightly. “Mm.”
Just as Jing Mian was about to get up, a broad palm ruffled his hair, and Mr. Ren’s voice came:
“I’ll go.”
A droplet fell from Jing Mian’s lashes, his heart suffused with warmth from the steam. He whispered, “The password is your birthday.”
Jing Mian saw his husband’s back stiffen slightly.
After a few seconds, those slender fingers picked up the phone and unlocked it.
The missed call displayed on the screen wasn’t from the major’s group chat.
Instead, it was a system notification:
「As the call could not be connected, it has been converted to a text message. Please check your inbox.」
【Your marital x activity duration with your spouse has exceeded 20 hours this month.】
【Based on comprehensive data analysis, you now meet the application requirements.】
【If you and your spouse wish to raise a child, please visit your local same-sex marriage bureau to submit the necessary materials and complete the procedures. Both spouses must be present in person, with no restrictions on the date.】
【Please bring your marriage certificate, ID card, and other relevant documents.】
【For details, see 「Attachment 1」】
…
Mr. Ren turned off the phone.
When he returned, Jing Mian in the bathtub had drooping lashes, drowsy and on the verge of sleep.
The man grabbed a towel from the nearby cabinet, bent down, and lifted Jing Mian out of the tub. Water droplets cascaded from his toes, unbroken.
By the time he was carried back to the bedroom, warm air was already blowing through Jing Mian’s hair, and the water on his body had long been wiped away.
Jing Mian squinted contentedly.
Though he faintly sensed that Mr. Ren seemed upset, the man’s meticulous care now made Jing Mian secretly sigh in relief.
But when his hair was dry, the towel slipped, and the man pressed a knee down, Jing Mian realized he’d relaxed too soon.
Soft black hair brushed against the pillowcase, tears absorbed by the fabric before vanishing. Jing Mian felt his shoulders gripped and slightly lifted.
Jing Mian: “?”
He asked softly, “What’s wrong?”
Mr. Ren kissed his ear and remained silent for a long moment.
The pause stretched so long that Jing Mian thought his husband had nothing to say.
But the next second, their fingers interlaced from behind, and Mr. Ren’s deep voice suddenly asked hoarsely, “…MianMian.”
Jing Mian: “Hm?”
“Should we have a baby?”
…
Jing Mian’s pupils froze.
Then, his heart trembled in response.
He pressed his dry lips together, completely caught off guard. “What…?”
He’d expected Mr. Ren to pretend nothing had happened, but the opposite was true, the man repeated in a near-serious tone, “You and me. Let’s have a baby.”
Jing Mian drew a quiet breath.
This time,
The stagnant heart began to pound uncontrollably at those words.
Why would Mr. Ren suddenly bring up such a question, especially at this moment?
But there was no capacity left for thought.
Jing Mian, dazed and struggling to process the proposal, felt his rationality barely forming before being swept away again. The hand on his shoulder shifted to grip tightly, as if pulling him into an embrace. Lifted into a seated position, Jing Mian heard Mr. Ren murmur in a hushed voice by his ear:
“Our baby would surely be beautiful, wouldn’t they?”
Jing Mian’s breath trembled lightly.
The next moment, his back tensed abruptly, shivering uncontrollably.
Tears spilled over like a breached dam, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the faint, clean scent of his husband enveloped him completely.
He actually…
Reached his limit from those words alone.
A deep night’s sleep followed.
Jing Mian curled up beneath the blankets.
He could feel thin strands of morning light sneaking through the gaps in the curtains. The room temperature was just right, the bedding soft and comfortable, his body clean and dry, tended to by Mr. Ren.
Most importantly, it was the weekend. Jing Mian had no classes.
And Mr. Ren could rare spend the entire day at home.
So even with daylight breaking, they could sleep in together. Breakfast would be brought to bed, and after eating, they could lie back down to wait for noon to arrive.
Jing Mian faintly recalled their conversation from the previous night.
His husband had mentioned their engagement and the unfamiliar He family.
Jing Mian was still somewhat at a loss.
Later in his memories, Mr. Ren had even asked if he wanted to have a baby.
…
Most importantly…
He couldn’t remember whether he’d agreed or not.
Burying his feverish head into the pillow, Jing Mian’s throat moved as he completely failed to regain his composure.
Since it had been brought up, it meant Mr. Ren wasn’t opposed to the idea.
In fact, they’d had discussions about having a baby before. Though they’d reached an agreement back then, the matter had never progressed beyond the theoretical stage, shelved for a long time afterward.
Jing Mian stared at the ceiling where tree shadows swayed.
Was a drunken promise still valid?
…
Not long after.
Just as Jing Mian picked up his phone, he suddenly heard the crisp, rustling sounds of Mr. Ren getting dressed.
Jing Mian: “?”
The young man lifted his head and asked, “Don’t you have the day off today?”
As Mr. Ren draped his overcoat over his shoulders, his tone was unreadable when he glanced over, speaking quietly: “There’s something I need to handle.”
Jing Mian: “Will it take all day?”
“No.”
Mr. Ren lowered his gaze, seeming to deliberate before saying, “Two hours.”
Jing Mian put his head back down.
If Mr. Ren said two hours, it would indeed be two hours, the margin of error likely wouldn’t exceed ten minutes.
Mr. Ren instructed, “Sleep a while longer.”
From within the blankets, only Jing Mian’s head peeked out as he nodded: “Mm.”
Southwest of Lincheng, by the stone riverbank near Long Bridge.
The Ren family estate stood here.
On the second-floor landing, Ren Changgong paced anxiously back and forth, teeth grinding against the edge of his thumb.
A servant nearby reminded him, “You haven’t eaten since last night—”
Ren Changgong’s brows furrowed tightly as he backhanded the servant across the face with a sharp slap: “Shut up.”
“Why isn’t Mobo answering his calls? He’s been switched off since last night, damn it… never reliable when it counts…”
At that moment.
Ren Changgong’s voice cut off.
Because from not far away came unfamiliar footsteps, drawing nearer.
Solemn and steady, one after another, as if hammering against everyone’s nerves.
Even before appearing in sight,
the sound of footsteps carried an overwhelming pressure that sent shivers down one’s spine.
Ren Changgong’s expression froze.
When he looked up, that dazed look gradually morphed into fear, until his face turned deathly pale.
His lips trembled as he uttered the name of the approaching figure:
“R-Ren Xingwan…”
The servants nearby immediately bowed in unison, greeting respectfully, “Young Master.”
Ren Xingwan didn’t speak, nor did he remove his overcoat. His gaze simply settled on Ren Changgong, his handsome eyes shadowed by long lashes.
Under the fragmented light, his expression was terrifyingly cold.
The servants watched the scene unfold, and Ren Changgong, unable to bear the humiliation, forced a defiant tone. “Ren Xingwan, what are you doing here? This isn’t your home.”
“Didn’t you just get married? To a man, no less. You can’t still think of yourself as the master of this—”
His voice abruptly cut off.
The oppressive, inexplicable sense of being looked down upon reached its peak the moment the tall man strode toward him.
Even the bystanders could feel the terror.
Ren Changgong swallowed dryly, about to step back, when suddenly, his collar was seized in a vice-like grip.
The force was heavy and unyielding, just one hand, yet it felt as immovable as reinforced concrete.
Cold and merciless.
The next second, Ren Changgong felt his back press against the second-floor railing, yet the grip showed no sign of loosening.
His pupils constricted violently.
Because he could feel the wind rushing past as his body tilted backward over the railing.
—Ren Xingwan was going to throw him off.
The horrifying realization flashed through his mind.
“Fuck!!!”
Ren Changgong screamed, but just as his body was about to flip over the railing and plummet, the force abruptly stopped.
Yet he remained suspended in that precarious position.
Everything happened in an instant.
Cold sweat trickled down his neck.
Ren Changgong’s back stiffened, and he instinctively turned his head to glance downward. The sight sent a fresh wave of terror through him, accompanied by an uncontrollable shriek.
“Fuck! Ren Xingwan, what the hell are you doing?! You lunatic!!”
“Let go… Are you trying to kill me?!”
“You useless idiots, damn it, are you just going to stand there?!!”
The last remark was directed at the horrified servants nearby.
But with Ren Xingwan present, not a single one dared to intervene.
Not only did they not intervene,
They were utterly silent.
His life was in Ren Xingwan’s hands.
One slight release, and he would plummet from the second floor.
The Ren family mansion was vast, the height between the first and second floors was equivalent to four or five stories of an ordinary residence.
The first floor was paved with hard, smooth tiles.
A fall from this height would almost certainly be fatal.
At this moment, though Ren Changgong’s toes barely scraped the ground, his lower body was almost entirely suspended in midair. The weight of his body leaning over the railing rested entirely in Ren Xingwan’s grasp.
“Didn’t I warn you?”
Ren Xingwan lowered his gaze, his voice icy. “Stay away from what’s mine.”
…
“How did I warn you? Have you forgotten so quickly?”
Ren Changgong’s breath hitched.
His pupils trembled uncontrollably, as if recalling something. His lips quivered with fear as he stammered, “I-I haven’t forgotten…”
So Ren Xingwan already knew.
That night, he had arranged to meet Jing Mian. Although Ren Xingwan later sent people after him, and despite exhausting all his efforts to barely escape the pursuit of those bodyguards, his identity was still exposed to Ren Xingwan.
…The long-planned scheme was completely laid bare.
Ren Changgong’s lips were dry as he swallowed futilely, but at this moment, he had no time to dwell on those matters. All that remained was the weightless dread of hanging mid-air, his voice trembling as he pleaded, “Second Brother, let me down first.”
Clutching at a sliver of hope, Ren Changgong defended himself:
“The whole thing started because the game character I play happens to be my sister-in-law’s idol. I’m actually a veteran legend in the gaming circle, though I’ve been retired for a long time. But Jing Mian really likes—”
“Ash.”
Ren Xingwan spoke calmly.
…
By the time Ren Changgong processed it, the man had actually uttered that name.
“What?”
Ren Changgong’s face showed astonishment, as if he hadn’t quite grasped it. His brows twitched slightly as he said, “You… already knew?”
“As you can see, this was just an ordinary online meet-up. I didn’t do anything—”
“The person who taught you to impersonate Ash is named Li Yan.”
Ren Xingwan cut him off.
Speaking as casually as if discussing trivial matters, Ren Xingwan’s lips curled lazily, his tone indifferent. “Li Yan cracked faster than you. He spilled everything without much questioning.”
Ren Changgong’s eyes filled with horror.
His pupils trembled uncontrollably.
“Jing Mian told you.”
Suddenly realizing something, Ren Changgong exclaimed agitatedly, “Jing Mian told you I pretended to be Ash, that I was the one who arranged to meet him that night. But your men showed up at the café so quickly—it was all a setup between you and Jing Mian, wasn’t it? Just to humiliate me?”
…
Faint dust floated in the air, settling on the railing before scattering to the ground and disappearing.
Ren Changgong’s questioning was tinged with agitation, yet cautious, as if afraid of provoking the other. He waited nervously until he finally heard Ren Xingwan’s voice.
“He didn’t tell me.”
Under Ren Changgong’s bewildered gaze, the man slowly parted his lips, his tone icy and detached as he uttered:
“He thought you were the real Ash. That’s why he went to meet you.”
Ren Changgong: “Wh-what?”
He couldn’t comprehend why Ren Xingwan would say that.
But the next moment, Ren Xingwan delivered another earth-shattering revelation:
“I knew you weren’t.”
Ren Changgong’s eyes flickered with confusion and disbelief. After a long pause, as if finally piecing it together, he gritted his teeth and said, “Ren Xingwan, you’re just bluffing. How could you possibly know something like this? Unless you used your influence to investigate Ash’s real ID at Glory’s headquarters. Otherwise, I’ve hidden my tracks perfectly in the gaming world. There’s no way you could—”
“…Because.”
Ren Changgong’s torrent of words was abruptly cut off.
The next instant—
Ren Xingwan looked down at him, his presence overwhelming, the shadows of his lashes cast downward against the light, revealing his chillingly indifferent gaze:
“I am Ash.”