AFM 96

10:00 AM.

The doorbell rang, and Jing Mian opened the door.

Sure enough, Li Daoyang stood at the doorstep, dragging a small suitcase behind him. His buzz cut had grown slightly longer since the last time they met, and his face lit up with a bright grin as he pulled Jing Mian into a bear hug.

“So this is what Maple Leaf Estates looks like inside?”

Li Daoyang changed into slippers at the entrance, marveling, “This is the most upscale villa district in Lincheng, and it’s so close to downtown, the land prices here are insane. I heard a lot of celebrities live here too. Have you ever run into any while grocery shopping?”

“No, I haven’t,” Jing Mian paused, then added, “And… my husband does the grocery shopping.”

“Professor Ren can cook too?” Li Daoyang was astonished.

Jing Mian nodded.

Li Daoyang silently sighed in admiration.

Handsome, wealthy, and knows how to take care of his wife?

What kind of legendary top-tier husband is this?

Jing Mian asked, “Is An Jing not coming?”

An Jing was Li Daoyang’s girlfriend, whom they had met last time.

Li Daoyang clicked his tongue. “Nah. The artist I’m seeing for the concert happens to be her idol’s rival. Forget coming back to Lincheng, I had to buy the tickets in secret.”

Noticing Jing Mian’s oversized jacket, Li Daoyang remarked, “That coat’s way too big on you, it could practically swallow you whole.”

Jing Mian lifted one sleeve, then quietly tucked it back in. “It’s my husband’s.”

Li Daoyang thought to himself: The legendary boyfriend shirt.

In just ten minutes of being here, he’d already been flexed on twice.

And this was supposed to be a loveless contractual marriage?

Li Daoyang flopped onto the couch dramatically, groaning, “Not only were the concert tickets impossible to get, but even the high-speed train tickets to Lincheng were sold out. I couldn’t even snag a business-class seat, ended up standing the whole way. And when I tried booking a hotel, I found out the ones near the stadium had jacked their prices up to over a thousand a night. I just bought An Jing flowers and perfume for Qixi Festival, so I’m definitely going broke this month. Thanks for taking me in…”

Jing Mian sat down and couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t this too much trouble for you?”

“Of course not.” Li Daoyang sat up and raised a hand. “Imagine if one day you got to meet Ash, wouldn’t you go even crazier than me?”

Jing Mian fell silent.

Putting himself in Li Daoyang’s shoes, if he ever had the chance to meet Ash… everything Li Daoyang was doing suddenly made perfect sense.

If it were him, he might go even further.

After all, back when he was competing to become Ash’s Shadow Guard, the son who had always been obedient and well-behaved in his father’s eyes had turned into a rebellious gaming addict, even getting kicked out of the house at one point.

Li Daoyang took off his jacket and wandered around the villa, exploring from the kitchen to the bathroom, then to the living room. His gaze was drawn to a potted plant by the floor to ceiling window. He gently brushed a leaf and exclaimed, “This looks like a mini elm tree.”

Jing Mian said, “It is a small elm tree.”

Li Daoyang admired the little tree’s proud, upright posture. “You’ve taken really good care of it.”

Jing Mian remembered that when he first brought it home, the elm sapling had been the most withered of the batch. Perhaps because of the price difference, the teenager had taken it in, pruning its leaves and watering it whenever he had time. During training and competitions, his husband would tend to it for him.

Now, it had become the most vibrant plant in the entire villa.

Li Daoyang made his way to the second floor, identifying the rooms as he went. “This is the guest room, this is the spare bedroom, this is the storage room… and this is the study…”

At the mention of the study, Jing Mian’s gaze lingered for a few seconds before he turned to follow.

“And this biggest one, must be the master bedroom.”

Jing Mian nodded.

Li Daoyang thought for a moment and lowered his voice this time: “If you two are going to be busy tonight, let me know in advance.”

“I can crash on the couch downstairs, won’t get in your way at all.”

Jing Mian: “?”

It took Jing Mian a few seconds to grasp the implication behind Li Daoyang’s words. His cheeks instantly burned, and he stammered, “That won’t happen.”

With a guest present… Besides, he and Mr. Ren had an agreement.

After Li Daoyang finished touring the place, he returned to the couch. Since their interests aligned so well, they could chat nonstop about games and sports for an entire day.

And so, their conversation meandered from poetry and music to life philosophies. Thanks to the high-definition display screen Mr. Ren had installed for gaming, they even played a few rounds that afternoon.

Li Daoyang didn’t play Glory, so Jing Mian joined him in some zombie slaying single player games.

Until the sound of the door unlocking echoed through the room.

Both paused their movements and turned to see a tall man appear in the entryway.

It was deep autumn, and the man seemed to carry a chill with him. The living room lights were on, casting a faint glow over the entryway, where light and shadow intertwined, accentuating his strikingly handsome features.

Jing Mian hit pause.

He stood up and walked over to Mr. Ren, introducing the stunned Li Daoyang on the couch.

Li Daoyang shook hands with the man and sat back down, noticing a faint red mark on his palm.

Li Daoyang: “…” The grip had been perfectly calibrated, not painful, but enough to make it clear he’d exerted force.

Distracted from the game, he watched as the tall man reached out to touch the younger boy’s forehead. Jing Mian’s lashes fluttered slightly as he looked up and said, “The fever’s gone.”

“Did you take your medicine on time?”

Jing Mian hummed in affirmation, repeating, “One cold tablet, two capsules, morning and noon.”

Ren Xingwan murmured something, and Jing Mian blinked in surprise before his head was gently ruffled. The man went to boil water, pouring it into a bowl with prepared powdered medicine, steam rising in wisps.

Turns out there had been one packet of medicine left out.

Once it had cooled enough, Jing Mian obediently picked up the bowl and drank.

After finishing, the boy squinted slightly, his brows furrowing for the briefest moment before smoothing back into neutrality.

Clearly trying to mask the bitterness.

Soon, the man pulled something from his pocket, the crinkling sound of candy wrapper being unfolded, and slipped it into the younger one’s mouth.

The bitterness lingering on Jing Mian’s taste buds was gradually replaced by spreading sweetness. He licked his lips and found it was orange-flavored.

“Sweet?”

Jing Mian nodded. “Sweet.”

Li Daoyang: “…”

Was it the candy that was sweet?

Or you two lovebirds?!

Li Daoyang didn’t join them for dinner. As a military academy student, fried food and snacks were banned in his dorm, leaving him craving them constantly. That afternoon, he’d ordered delivery, pizza, fries, fried chicken, spicy noodles, and cheesecake, basically one of everything.

Jing Mian, still recovering, had little appetite and only ate some cake, leaving most of the feast to Li Daoyang.

Now, it seemed Husband’s cooking was just that good.

Before bedtime, Li Daoyang patted the spot beside him on the couch and handed Jing Mian the controller. There were two maps left to play through; they’d finish those and then call it a night.

Though, after playing third wheel all evening, Li Daoyang felt he ought to at least politely invite MianMian’s husband to join them.

Li Daoyang picked up the controller and asked the man who was about to go upstairs, “Mr. Ren, want to give it a try?”

“It’s a zombie game. MianMian is really good at it.”

Jing Mian froze, instantly looking up.

He didn’t know why Li Daoyang suddenly asked casually, but in Jing Mian’s impression, things like games didn’t seem to fit with the man.

It would be fine if Mr. Ren refused, but if he agreed…

Jing Mian swallowed lightly.

Mr. Ren didn’t seem like someone who was good at playing games.

Jing Mian silently offered an out: “Husband probably still has work to do, right?”

Unexpectedly, the man only paused for a few seconds before speaking.

Mr. Ren: “Not busy.”

“Mr. Ren, it’s a bit difficult for beginners. Let me teach you.”

Li Daoyang was blocked by Ren Xingwan to the other side. Originally next to MianMian, he had to lower his eyes and show the man: “The joystick controls direction, forward, backward, left, right. The small circle is confirm, X is back, start is the main menu. This plus the L1 button saves the game. Pressing the joystick shoots…”

Li Daoyang realized he might have spoken too fast and asked, “Mr. Ren, should I… say it again?”

Mr. Ren said, “Let’s begin.”

Jing Mian’s heartbeat quietly sped up.

This was the first time he’d seen Mr. Ren play a game.

Though Li Daoyang spoke modestly, his hands honestly chose the map he was best at and hit enter.

Li Daoyang said, “Mr. Ren, I’ve only been playing for a short while too. Let’s beginners spar, amateurs clashing, haha.”

Jing Mian: “…”

This zombie game had been out for five years. Li Daoyang bought the disc when it was first released and knew the maps better than Jing Mian himself.

Jing Mian was about to suggest changing the map but then thought that no matter which map it was, for Husband… it probably wouldn’t make much difference.

The young man leaned back on the sofa, thinking that after Mr. Ren lost, he could play a few rounds with Li Daoyang to avenge Husband.

The screen began to change.

Li Daoyang manipulated the joystick, quickly picking up the best gun nearby and charging out along the map.

Jing Mian watched as his husband pressed the joystick, like a newborn fawn learning to walk, struggling to pick up a shotgun.

Jing Mian: “…”

Although shotguns had high damage, their fire rate was slow, the muzzle swayed wildly, and reloading was even slower. For beginners, picking up a shotgun often meant they might not even hit anything.

The young man silently lowered his head.

He couldn’t bear to watch.

However, as the roaring zombies approached, he suddenly heard a sharp, explosive sound.

Brief but impactful.

It was the sound of a shotgun firing!

Jing Mian looked up and saw, from Husband’s perspective, a mutated zombie crouching on the roof edge instantly collapse.

It wasn’t an ordinary zombie.

But a fast-moving, hard to aim at… mutated zombie.

That hidden spot on the roof, even he would only notice it when he got close. How did Husband see it?

Jing Mian’s pupils slightly contracted.

He even began to doubt reality.

Was that shot… really fired by his husband?

Li Daoyang had already taken down over a dozen zombies but was then pounced on by a mutated zombie, getting viciously bitten as his health bar rapidly dropped.

Then Jing Mian watched as Mr. Ren slowly walked up to Li Daoyang and looked down.

Bang.

The human’s rapidly decreasing health stopped.

Li Daoyang exclaimed in shock, “You can get a headshot with a shotgun? And on a mutated zombie!?”

Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he silently added in his heart,

Twice.

Mr. Ren’s voice was calm: “Beginner’s luck.”

After that, just as the man had said, Li Daoyang carried the game while Mr. Ren’s character stumbled along, barely managing to clear the level in the end.

Li Daoyang secretly let out a sigh of relief.

At the start, he’d nearly broken out in a cold sweat.

He’d been playing this game for three or four years, loving it to the point of obsession, even developing several new maps with classmates and forming teams daily.

If he’d lost here, it wouldn’t just have been about face.

Li Daoyang set down the controller, stretched, and gave his opponent a thumbs-up, offering appropriate consolation: “You’re really good, Mr. Ren. I’ve never seen a beginner one-shot a mutant before. Even though your performance dipped later, it’s still amazing for a new player.”

Jing Mian was slightly dazed.

Although Mr. Ren’s later performance left much to be desired, what stood out most vividly in his memory were those two kills at the start.

That decisive precision, that ruthless efficiency in gunplay—

If he hadn’t known his husband’s capabilities, it would have been hard to believe this was a beginner’s performance.

Li Daoyang checked his watch and said, “It’s pretty late. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

Jing Mian nodded. “Goodnight.”

Before returning to the bedroom,

Jing Mian left his husband’s jacket on the sofa.

Late at night.

Jing Mian found himself unusually sleepless.

Since moving in with Mr. Ren, his insomnia had rarely recurred, but tonight, something weighed on his mind, making him unable to stop replaying certain thoughts.

Mr. Ren’s third drawer.

Locked, with the key kept close to his chest, a secret not meant for anyone’s eyes. And that velvet-lined box engraved with the initials “MM.”

Jing Mian pressed his lips together, an odd sensation rising in his nose.

Perhaps… it was an engagement ring that never got delivered.

During those twelve years apart, he and Mr. Ren had no connection whatsoever, leaving him completely unaware of the other man’s life. Even if Mr. Ren had been in a serious relationship, serious enough to consider marriage, he had no right to know or interfere.

He knew where the key was.

He also knew the jewelry box was in that third drawer.

But that wasn’t the right approach. If he truly cared, he could simply ask Mr. Ren directly—what was inside, and the story behind it. Given his husband’s nature, he’d most likely answer with complete honesty.

Jing Mian’s lashes trembled slightly.

…He didn’t want to know.

Even less did he want to hear it from his husband’s lips.

Jing Mian stared at the ceiling for a long time before quietly sitting up and slipping out of bed.

The young man reached for his slippers and put them on.

He sat on the sofa in a daze for a while, gazing at the wall lamp on the second floor, its soft light spilling over the extending staircase. Jing Mian looked at the key in his hand, then silently returned it to his husband’s jacket.

The young man ascended the steps, the light trailing his shadow. As he passed the study, his footsteps unconsciously paused.

After a few seconds of hesitation, he slowly pushed open the half-ajar door.

The wall lamp’s glow seeped into the study, widening the gap of light, within which stood the silhouette of the young man wrapped in his clothes.

Jing Mian entered the study and sat down in the spacious office chair. He leaned sideways against the desk, resting his head on one arm while his other hand’s index finger lightly traced letters on the desktop:

MM.

Suddenly, Jing Mian froze.

He sat up abruptly, his gaze snapping to the drawer beneath the left side of the desk.

An improbable thought surfaced in his mind.

He reached out, his fingers hooking around the handle, and pulled gently.

It opened.

Probably Yu Nian had forgotten to close it properly before leaving, as the drawer wasn’t locked.

Jing Mian’s pupils trembled slightly.

He bent down, slowly crouching in the pitch-black surroundings. The dim wall lamp only illuminated the doorway, leaving the corners of the study shrouded in darkness.

Yet, relying on instinct and memory, Jing Mian found the pure white velvet-lined box.

As he opened it, his fingertips turned icy, and his heartbeat slowed inexplicably, he was nervous.

Then, Jing Mian’s gaze froze.

Under the faint light, he could see—

It was a bracelet.

At the very center of the bracelet hung a blue star pendant.

Far from exquisite or luxurious, it even looked somewhat childish. Jing Mian recalled making a similar bracelet in a handicraft class when he was very young. Before the car accident that changed his life, he had been on his way to his Brother’s birthday party, intending to give him the star.

Later, he never got the chance to give it.

Even if he had, after that incident, Jing Mian completely abandoned the thought of ever giving it to his Brother.

Because he wasn’t worthy.

He didn’t deserve to.

So naturally, Mr. Ren knew nothing about the bracelet.

Jing Mian’s neck and back tingled as he lowered his gaze, his fingers trembling slightly.

At the same time, his legs felt weak. He went from crouching to sitting on the floor, feeling his heart pound violently, almost shuddering uncontrollably.

How could this be?

How could it be here?

…

The secret hidden in Mr. Ren’s third drawer,

was the little star he had failed to give his Brother all those years ago.