In the museum’s video section, Wei Jiayi leaned weakly against Zhao Jing, his limbs powerless, exuding an undeniable sense of drowsiness. His once-light hand now pressed firmly on Zhao Jing’s shoulder, radiating a natural sense of dependence and intimacy, as if embodying a life where they would always be together.
Zhao Jing had another physical reaction, but seeing Wei Jiayi so tired, he resolved not to let things escalate further and maintained strict self-control.
Expecting Wei Jiayi to fall asleep during the ride home, Zhao Jing had the driver take over. Yet, Wei Jiayi remained awake. For a moment, he closed his eyes, his head tilting slightly upward. His right elbow rested on the backseat armrest, his fingers dangling loosely, as though he had slipped into a light slumber.
Zhao Jing gently fiddled with Wei Jiayi’s palm, prompting him to open his eyes again. Wei Jiayi’s gaze was alert, and his lips moved to make a sound. Zhao Jing’s brain converted the audio into words as Wei Jiayi asked, “What are you doing?”
“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” Zhao Jing explained.
“And you woke me up,” Wei Jiayi teased in a soft voice, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re not sleeping, so I’m not allowed to either—is that it?”
Zhao Jing smiled, realizing Wei Jiayi’s understanding of him wasn’t entirely accurate. “Don’t you know that once you’re asleep, nothing can wake you up?”
“I don’t think so.” Wei Jiayi was unwilling to concede. “I’m usually a light sleeper.”
“You weren’t that night when you drank,” Zhao Jing reminded him.
Wei Jiayi froze briefly, then recalled the incident. He let out an “oh” and fell silent.
Sensing he might be embarrassed, Zhao Jing suddenly remembered something and shared it with him, “I bought two cases of wine for you. They’ll be delivered next week. Since your place doesn’t have a wine cellar, I had the auction house send them to mine first.”
“What kind of wine?” Wei Jiayi asked.
Zhao Jing scrolled through messages exchanged with his mother’s secretary and handed his phone over. Wei Jiayi leaned in to take a look. After a moment, his tone turned uncertain. “These are collectibles, aren’t they? Are they even drinkable?”
“They’re not the rare vintage kind my mom likes. I bought them for you to drink.” Zhao Jing found the question silly. “Besides, they’re so cheap—what’s the point of collecting them?”
Wei Jiayi stared at the phone screen for a long moment, perhaps tempted by the thought of wine, and finally thanked Zhao Jing. His hair was slightly mussed from rubbing against the car seat, and the combination of his sharp jawline and softly pursed lips made his gaze at Zhao Jing seem full of affection.
Even before visiting the museum today, Wei Jiayi had been clinging to Zhao Jing, insisting that he accompany him home to sleep together. Now, after learning more about Zhao Jing’s life story, Wei Jiayi should understand him better, likely like him even more, and feel even less willing to let him go.
To be honest, the remarks Zhao Jing’s parents had made, questioning the stability of their relationship, had lingered in his mind over the past few days. But after tonight’s date, seeing Wei Jiayi still rely on him so wholeheartedly, Zhao Jing felt reassured. He decided it was time to start preparing for the proposal.
Wei Jiayi had once mentioned that he preferred to take things slowly, and Zhao Jing respected that. He wouldn’t bring up marriage immediately but would wait for the perfect moment to surprise and move him. Reflecting on how smoothly his journey in love and marriage was progressing, Zhao Jing felt a deep sense of satisfaction—greater even than when he rang the bell on the day his company went public. Casually, he asked Wei Jiayi, “Do you have any favorite jewelry designers?”
Wei Jiayi turned to look at him, his expression slightly blank, likely from exhaustion. After a brief pause, he replied, “I don’t think so. I don’t really know much about that.”
This answer presented Zhao Jing with a considerable challenge, one he was more than willing to tackle. He decided to commission multiple designers, ensuring Wei Jiayi had options to choose from. After all, no law said they could only have one pair of wedding rings. As long as the rings matched and they both wore them, that was all that mattered.
Soon, the car arrived at the base of Wei Jiayi’s apartment building, where Zhao Jing’s secretary was already waiting with a change of clothes. Zhao Jing took them himself, dismissing the secretary, and the two of them headed upstairs.
When Zhao Jing saw Wei Jiayi swipe a card for the elevator, it dawned on him that, despite Wei Jiayi’s usual attentiveness, he’d overlooked this detail. Zhao Jing didn’t hold it against him and proactively reminded him, “Make sure to give me a card when we get home.”
Wei Jiayi looked startled before replying, “Okay.” His brows furrowed slightly. “But I think I forgot where I put it. I’ll have to look.”
As soon as they entered the apartment, Wei Jiayi headed straight to the curved cabinet near the open kitchen by the entrance. He opened a drawer, and Zhao Jing followed to take a look. The drawer was a chaotic mess, filled with all sorts of items: instruction manuals for the house, batteries of various sizes, a keyring for the bedroom, and a pile of remote controls still sealed in plastic bags with unclear purposes.
Zhao Jing reached in to help, pulling out the remote controls and stacking them neatly. “Wei Jiayi, your place is so tidy—how is this drawer such a mess?”
“I don’t live here much, and the cleaning service doesn’t organize drawers,” Wei Jiayi tried to justify himself, his expression showing some guilt. He piled everything onto the countertop and lowered his head, clumsily rummaging through it.
To Zhao Jing, Wei Jiayi looked like someone searching for truffles in a forest. Just as he was about to offer more help, Wei Jiayi suddenly grabbed a small plastic bag containing a card and a key. “Found it!” He was delighted, his voice still soft, and handed it to Zhao Jing. He added, “It’s not too messy, right? There’s some order in the chaos.”
It was strange—an ordinary card and key seemed to gain significance when held in Wei Jiayi’s hands. Zhao Jing realized something profound: whenever he was with Wei Jiayi, he lost all sense of spatial awareness. Drawing on concepts from his photography lessons, he could explain it like this—his gaze locked onto Wei Jiayi, and everything else, blurred by a shallow depth of field, faded into an unimportant backdrop.
The room was hot. Zhao Jing placed the card on the counter, his attention caught by Wei Jiayi removing his jacket.
With his back turned, Wei Jiayi hung the jacket on the back of a chair. His fitted T-shirt clung to his frame, accentuating his slender figure. When he turned around and noticed Zhao Jing watching him, he stepped closer, as though asking intentionally, “What’s wrong?”
Zhao Jing stared at him. Wei Jiayi moved closer, hesitantly reaching out to grab Zhao Jing’s arm. Zhao Jing had initially planned to chat for a bit or take a shower, but understanding Wei Jiayi’s unspoken hints, he bent down and kissed him.
Wei Jiayi’s lips were cool, parting obediently in response. As the intensity grew, his breathing quickened, and at one point, his teeth grazed Zhao Jing’s lip in a bite. Zhao Jing’s self-control faltered, and his hand pressed firmly against Wei Jiayi’s lower back. Yet, he retained a sliver of rationality, careful not to pull him too close. Twice before, when Wei Jiayi had touched the place where Zhao Jing’s desire became evident, a flicker of fear had crossed his face.
Wei Jiayi was the type of person who talked the talk but couldn’t walk the walk—proactive on the surface but actually quite timid. Moreover, this was his first relationship, and he was two years younger than Zhao Jing. A few days earlier at the hotel, they had almost taken things further, but under the influence of alcohol, Wei Jiayi had fallen asleep, leaving Zhao Jing alone with his thoughts.
Both of them were navigating their first romantic experience. Knowing Wei Jiayi’s inexperience, Zhao Jing, as the older one, felt it was his responsibility to guide their pace. He resolved not to let desire dictate his actions; his priority was to take care of Wei Jiayi and ensure he didn’t feel afraid. Wei Jiayi already liked him so much—they had plenty of time ahead and didn’t need to rush.
Just as Zhao Jing prepared to bring up the topic, Wei Jiayi’s greedy kisses interrupted his thoughts. After all, it was perfectly normal for actions to deviate from plans—no one was exempt from this. Since Zhao Jing hadn’t yet mastered self-control, his rationality faltered in a tug-of-war, eventually surrendering the moment Wei Jiayi murmured, “Shall we go to the bedroom?”
The room was dark. Wei Jiayi stumbled backward, landing on the bed as Zhao Jing pressed him down. Luring him into the room had been both effortless and challenging.
Zhao Jing was far from unresponsive. When Wei Jiayi grasped his hand and began removing his own clothes, Zhao Jing instinctively buried his face against Wei Jiayi’s neck, slowly trailing downward to his chest. The soft yet slightly coarse texture of Zhao Jing’s hair brushed against Wei Jiayi’s collarbone, tickling gently as if he were carefully cherishing every inch of his skin with kisses.
This was exactly what Wei Jiayi had anticipated, yet he hadn’t realized that despite all his knowledge, he was still a complete novice when it came to this. His confidence had always been a bluff—bold when the other seemed weaker, but quick to retreat when faced with real strength. Now, pinned beneath Zhao Jing, he opened his eyes, catching the light spilling in from the doorway. Suddenly, he remembered there was no equipment at home, and, since he hadn’t had any alcohol today, he couldn’t even pretend to be drunk. Feeling flustered, he reached out to touch Zhao Jing’s cheek.
Zhao Jing allowed the touch a few times before lifting his head and pausing his movements. However, the weight pressing on Wei Jiayi’s thigh—so heavy it left a visible indentation—still felt ridiculously exaggerated to Wei Jiayi. Every time he came into contact with the shape, he couldn’t imagine ever being ready for it.
“What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?” Zhao Jing asked, propping himself up and kissing Wei Jiayi’s lips.
Wei Jiayi didn’t want to admit the truth. Caught in a swirl of conflicting emotions, he summoned his courage and pushed against Zhao Jing’s chest. Zhao Jing yielded easily, allowing Wei Jiayi to switch positions. Straddling Zhao Jing’s legs, Wei Jiayi knelt over him.
Leaning down, Wei Jiayi began kissing his way down Zhao Jing’s abs. Before long, his chin grazed the prominent bulge beneath him. Gathering his resolve, he placed a hand on the waistband, his fingers brushing the now-warm button. Just as he was about to undo it, Zhao Jing called his name.
“Wei Jiayi.” Zhao Jing reached down, gently cupping Wei Jiayi’s chin to stop him. “Weren’t you the one who said we should take things slow?” His voice was soft, carrying a mature gentleness, leaving Wei Jiayi feeling like he was the one acting impulsively.
Wei Jiayi froze. Zhao Jing’s hand slid to his arm, pulling him up slightly and guiding him to rest against his chest. Wei Jiayi could hear Zhao Jing’s heart beating fast, his breaths uneven. He remained still. After a moment, he heard Zhao Jing say, “I do want you. That much is obvious. But I’m not an animal. If you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to.”
Zhao Jing’s words seemed to convey a deep understanding of Wei Jiayi’s thoughts, but given Zhao Jing’s usual behavior, Wei Jiayi couldn’t help but wonder if he had misinterpreted the situation.
Wei Jiayi didn’t know how to ask further, and Zhao Jing said nothing more. The two of them simply embraced, their bare skin pressed together. It felt strange yet profoundly intimate. Being with Zhao Jing felt simultaneously vulnerable and safe in a way Wei Jiayi had never experienced before. Resting against Zhao Jing’s warm body, Wei Jiayi suddenly remembered he needed to respond. “It’s just I didn’t have anything prepared at home.”
Zhao Jing replied with a simple, “Mm,” his chest rising and falling steadily. His voice traveled through his blood and muscles, passing through his skin to Wei Jiayi’s ear, like a secret meant only for him.
In that moment, Wei Jiayi felt truly cherished, which gave him a surge of courage. For the first time in his life, he admitted his true feelings, “And I’m really scared.”
Zhao Jing didn’t laugh at him. Instead, he stroked Wei Jiayi’s hair, tightened his arms around his shoulders and back, and said, “I know.”
