RKNDL chapter 41

After a long time apart, their kisses were dry and cautious at first—tentative and cherishing. They touched and held each other tightly, their movements unskilled yet sincere, exploring deeper only gradually. In this process, they revealed the softest and fiercest parts of themselves.

When Xie Zhinan was pinned down, he still felt that something was slightly off.

He furrowed his brows slightly, the sound of their overlapping breaths ringing in his ears. His mind was nearly melted by the blazing atmosphere, leaving him incapable of rational thought. Yet a primal instinct to sense danger made him raise his hand and press against Wen Yun’s shoulder.

It seemed like he wanted to stop him, but his hand lacked strength, making the motion resemble more of an intimate caress.

“What’s wrong?” Wen Yun’s voice sounded by his ear, low and almost entirely a whisper. It carried the same cool tone as always, but with a faint, indescribable hint of restlessness.

Xie Zhinan’s throat tightened painfully, his hands trembling.

But he didn’t respond. Only his breathing broke the silence—uneven and slightly shaky. His body was stiff, his abdomen convulsing almost rhythmically.

Seeing this, Wen Yun took Xie Zhinan’s hand off his shoulder and pressed it gently onto the soft blanket.

Xie Zhinan’s fingers curled back slightly but offered no resistance. He was being pried open against his will, exposing his most tender and fragile self, utterly defenseless.

It was as if he’d truly fallen into some dazzling dream. Swirling fragments of color spun before his eyes as he sank deeper and deeper, landing on a soft, sweet cloud.

His stiff nerves suddenly relaxed, and he surrendered completely to the vivid dreamscape.

…..

Xie Zhinan had his best sleep in days.

For an entire week, he hadn’t been able to rest well. That night seemed to make up for all the exhaustion, as he slept for over ten hours.

At some point, he stirred hazily and opened his eyes to see Wen Yun sitting by the bed, his back to him, getting dressed. Pale golden sunlight filtered through the curtains, draping over Wen Yun and casting his silhouette into a soft, almost unreal glow.

Xie Zhinan strained to keep his eyes open.

Wen Yun’s frame stood out—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a straight back. His figure was adorned with a thin layer of muscle, toned yet understated, exuding a restrained strength.

On his back were a few red scratches, stark against the morning light.

Xie Zhinan, still half-asleep, didn’t fully process what he was seeing. Half-lidded and dazed, he gazed at Wen Yun with an unusual boldness, his light-colored eyes unfocused and unblinking.

Wen Yun turned around and noticed him awake but still groggy, his gaze scattered. He reached out and gently pressed Xie Zhinan’s head, his voice soft. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

Xie Zhinan, feeling like he was still dreaming, murmured vaguely in agreement and burrowed back under the blanket, pulling it over his head like a small bird tucking itself into its feathers.

But humans aren’t meant to sleep in such suffocating positions.

Wen Yun pulled the blanket down to Xie Zhinan’s chin, exposing his face. Still dissatisfied, Xie Zhinan grumbled faintly, “…Bright.”

His voice was hoarse beyond recognition.

Even so, he obediently tilted his chin, allowing the blanket to be tucked below.

With his eyes closed, Xie Zhinan felt someone gently poke his face.

Too tired to respond, he ignored it.

So the poking came again.

Xie Zhinan, unable to bear it, scrunched his brows in frustration and buried his face in the pillow. But Wen Yun’s hand remained on his face, making it look as though Xie Zhinan was nuzzling into his palm.

Wen Yun moved his fingers slightly. Perhaps afraid he’d continue, Xie Zhinan reached a hand out from under the blanket, resting it lightly on Wen Yun’s wrist to stop him.

His fingertips, soft and damp from the blanket’s warmth, brushed against Wen Yun’s skin. Warm breaths brushed against the strands of hair on his face, grazing Wen Yun’s fingers and leaving a faint tickling sensation.

Lowering his gaze, Wen Yun watched him in the morning light for a long time. Finally, he brushed the strands of hair away from Xie Zhinan’s face and asked softly, “Xie Zhinan, you won’t run away again, will you?”

“…”

The familiar low voice reached Xie Zhinan’s ears. In his haze, he opened his eyes slightly.

He was met with a familiar pair of dark eyes—still and deep, yet as intricate as a fine net enveloping him.

It felt as though he’d been caught, destined to be devoured, with no hope of escape.

In his half-asleep state, Xie Zhinan thought so.

He didn’t hear Wen Yun’s words clearly. Heavy drowsiness and exhaustion overtook him again, and he quickly shut his eyes, sinking back into slumber.

But the hand resting on Wen Yun’s wrist didn’t let go. Instead, it tightened slightly.

Before long, though, Xie Zhinan fell into a deep sleep. His grip loosened, and his hand slid down. Wen Yun opened his palm, catching it, letting Xie Zhinan’s pinky and ring finger intertwine with his own.

Like prey willingly stepping into a trap.

….

It was unclear how much time passed before Xie Zhinan woke up fully.

The room was dim, with the curtains drawn tight, blocking out all light. It was impossible to tell whether it was day or night.

Only a small lamp near the window cast a faint yellow glow, and the soft clicking of a keyboard echoed from that direction.

The sound was light, not intrusive, even slightly soothing in the quiet room.

Having slept too long, Xie Zhinan felt groggy and disoriented, momentarily unsure of where he was. He turned his head blankly, trying to piece things together.

The hotel room’s layout placed a small desk parallel to the bed, with the chair facing the door. Turning his head, Xie Zhinan saw Wen Yun sitting at the desk.

On the desk was a silver-gray laptop, and Wen Yun’s hands were tapping away at the keyboard, seemingly working.

Noticing the soft rustling sounds coming from the bed, he lifted his head from the screen and glanced toward it.

He immediately spotted the hesitant, fuzzy black head poking out from the white, fluffy blanket on the bed.

Wen Yun raised his head fully, and Xie Zhinan caught sight of the refined gold-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. They suited him rather well.

Xie Zhinan froze for a few seconds, clearly failing to comprehend why Wen Yun was in his room.

He tried to sit up from the bed but quickly realized his entire body was sore, as if he’d spent the whole night doing crunches and frog jumps. For a moment, he couldn’t move at all.

That familiar ache, mixed with a deep exhaustion, sent a sharp jolt through him. His movement paused abruptly, and memories of the previous night surged over him like a tide. Stunned, he froze in place as if struck by lightning.

Two seconds later, he quietly lay back down, pulling the blanket over his head and burying himself inside as though the covers could shield him from reality. Shutting his eyes, he feigned sleep.

I must still be dreaming, Xie Zhinan thought in despair.

He lay there in the darkness of his blanket cocoon, hearing only the thunderous pounding of his own heartbeat and his heavy breathing. He didn’t even notice Wen Yun had stood up and was walking toward him.

It wasn’t until the blanket covering his head was patted lightly that a familiar voice came through the fabric:
“If you’re still tired, at least eat something before going back to sleep.”

Xie Zhinan: “…”

At this point, he couldn’t handle the sound of Wen Yun’s voice anymore. Every word brought back memories of Wen Yun’s breathy murmurs from the night before, still vivid in his ears. His face and ears flushed red as he lay there in silent mortification, pretending to be dead.

Wen Yun’s cool voice dropped again:
“Use and discard, is that it? Impressive, Xie Zhinan.”

Xie Zhinan: “?”

Use and discard?

Me?

Xie Zhinan abruptly threw off the blanket and glared at him.

Wen Yun calmly endured his slightly resentful gaze, raising an eyebrow in response.

Feeling that lying down while talking to Wen Yun made him seem less authoritative, Xie Zhinan gritted his teeth, ignoring the soreness in his body as he struggled to sit up.

Wen Yun placed a few soft pillows behind him to make him more comfortable.

But Xie Zhinan couldn’t even handle Wen Yun touching him at the moment. His legs and waist felt weak, and he shuddered involuntarily.

As soon as Wen Yun’s hand approached, Xie Zhinan instinctively curled back into the blanket, shifting slightly to the side to avoid him.

Wen Yun’s cool and indifferent gaze lowered as he looked at Xie Zhinan and said, “Why are you avoiding me again?”

Xie Zhinan’s lips quivered, and his eyes grew misty with grievance.

Now that things had come to this, he couldn’t pretend to be clueless anymore, nor could he escape. Wen Yun had thoroughly stripped away his defenses, exposing him completely to the daylight. Overwhelmed by a jumble of emotions pressing against his chest, Xie Zhinan stammered: “You…”

“Me?” Wen Yun asked, his tone calm. “What about me?”

The gold-rimmed glasses perched on his face softened his usual cold demeanor, giving him a scholarly and refined appearance. It hit Xie Zhinan’s aesthetic preferences perfectly. Even though Xie Zhinan’s mind was on the verge of collapse, he couldn’t help but sneak a few more glances at Wen Yun’s face.

After those stolen glances, he began to loathe his own base instincts.

Why am I so easily tempted? Why do I let myself be seduced by Wen Yun so casually?

Two months of avoidance, self-restraint, and feigned ignorance had all turned to ash.

Looking at Wen Yun, Xie Zhinan, for once, didn’t shy away in fear. Instead, with a mix of despair and sadness, he said, “You… you seduced me!”

He hadn’t been able to resist the temptation!

This realization made Xie Zhinan even more despondent. What kind of man am I to fall so easily?

Wen Yun observed his expression—a blend of anger, grievance, and shame—and maintained a straight face as he flatly responded, “Well, I apologize.”

Xie Zhinan glared at him.

And then, Wen Yun’s lips twitched into a faint smile.

Xie Zhinan: “…”

This man wasn’t apologetic at all!

“Sorry,” Wen Yun murmured, leaning down close to him—so close it was reminiscent of last night when he had cornered Xie Zhinan against the wall, forcing him to admit they’d once been in a relationship. The dim light in the room mirrored the previous night’s atmosphere. His voice was low, slightly hoarse. “Can you forgive me?”

The gold-rimmed glasses gleamed in front of Xie Zhinan’s eyes, and beneath the lenses, Wen Yun’s dark pupils held a faint smile and a hint of temptation.

It seemed that Wen Yun had already broken through all of Xie Zhinan’s defenses, leaving no room for retreat.

Stripped of his protective shell, Xie Zhinan seemed to lose the small animal-like wariness that once made him flinch at the slightest breeze. Now, he stared blankly, thinking: Those gold-rimmed glasses would look even better with a glasses chain.

His gaze was too obvious and unguarded. Wen Yun quickly caught on to his interest in his glasses. Calmly, he remarked, “You seem to want to put a glasses chain on me.”

Caught red-handed, Xie Zhinan: “…”

Snapping back to reality, his ears turned red, and he looked horrified as he frantically shook his head. “I don’t!”

Wen Yun acted as if he hadn’t heard him, his voice dropping lower. “If I put one on, will you forgive me?”

Xie Zhinan’s entire face turned crimson, down to his neck. Embarrassed beyond belief, he stammered, “I-I really didn’t mean…”

But his tone faltered, lacking conviction.

“Didn’t mean what?” Wen Yun pressed on, as relentless as ever, determined to flip Xie Zhinan over and force him to confess. “Not forgiving me?”

The lashes behind Wen Yun’s glasses lowered slightly, giving him a faintly dejected look.

Xie Zhinan couldn’t stand that expression. Helplessly, he stumbled over his words, “No, I mean… I didn’t… say you should… wear a glasses chain.”

He had no idea that he had already fallen completely into a meticulously designed verbal trap.

Without knowing how, he found himself about to forgive Wen Yun. And before he could make sense of it, he had already forgiven him.

Of course, a cunning hunter wouldn’t remind him of this fact.

“Is that so?” Wen Yun murmured softly, his tone unreadable.

The distance between them was so small that if either of them spoke just a bit louder, their lips would touch. Yet, even though they were so close, neither of them made the move to close the gap.

Wen Yun simply watched Xie Zhinan quietly, as if waiting for someone to take the bait.

This time, Xie Zhinan didn’t fall for it. He forcibly turned his neck, awkwardly looking away.

After all, one shouldn’t make the same mistake twice!

Wen Yun, unable to lure him in like he did last night, felt a hint of disappointment.

But today, he decided to take a gentler approach. He straightened up and didn’t press Xie Zhinan further.

“It’s already three in the afternoon. Get up and have something to eat,” he said. “What would you like?”

Having slept too long, Xie Zhinan didn’t have much of an appetite, so he shook his head.

Wen Yun frowned slightly at his irregular eating habits but eventually ordered a few light dishes from the hotel kitchen.

Xie Zhinan genuinely had no appetite and barely ate anything. In the end, though, Wen Yun made him finish half a bowl of congee and a bowl of sweet soup.

Even though he was already full, he was coaxed into eating more.

It was almost identical to a scene from before, leaving Xie Zhinan feeling inexplicably aggrieved. “I really don’t want to eat anymore,” he said.

Standing beside him, Wen Yun’s dark eyes deepened slightly, as if he were lost in thought. His voice was hoarse as he replied, “Alright, then no more.”

The dishes and utensils were cleared away, and the curtains were drawn open. The sunlight poured in from the window, enveloping Xie Zhinan in a warm glow.

He turned his head to look out at the sea. The blue water sparkled under the sunlight and breeze, presenting a serene and pleasant view.

Admitting to their past relationship and no longer playing dumb with Wen Yun didn’t seem as terrible as he had imagined.

The heavy weight pressing on his chest gradually lifted, and he even felt a rare sense of relief.

After all, things were already like this. He had said everything that needed to be said and done everything that could be done. Things couldn’t possibly get worse.

Xie Zhinan often had a way of bouncing back when hitting rock bottom. When truly cornered, he would calm down instead.

When escape was no longer an option, he wouldn’t try to run anymore.

Even so, when he turned his gaze back to Wen Yun, a subtle sense of awkwardness crept over him.

The atmosphere between them had grown strange. Before, it was like a hazy mist. Now, it felt sticky, as if a syrupy substance had been poured over them, stretching invisible, sugary threads between them.

This strange feeling made him uncomfortable, so he broke the silence. “Are you here… on a business trip to the island?”

Now full and clear-headed, Xie Zhinan returned to his usual calm demeanor, even trying to pretend their earlier conversation hadn’t happened.

Fortunately, Wen Yun didn’t bring it up again.

Instead, he focused intently on Xie Zhinan, his gaze unwavering, almost making Xie Zhinan’s scalp tingle and spine weaken.

Although Xie Zhinan had already freshened up, he had slept too long, leaving a stubborn tuft of hair sticking up on his head.

Wen Yun reached out naturally, pressing down the rebellious strand and smoothing it back. “No,” he replied.

This casual gesture made Xie Zhinan feel slightly uneasy. His lashes trembled as he instinctively tried to move away, but it was too late.

Wen Yun withdrew his hand after fixing the hair, as if it were nothing more than a simple act with no hidden intent.

Xie Zhinan pressed his lips together, looking as if he wanted to say something but ultimately stayed silent.

Wen Yun watched him and spoke in a low, gentle voice, almost coaxing, “Aren’t you curious why I came here?”

Once again, Wen Yun had struck a nerve. A certain premonition made Xie Zhinan’s heart race abnormally. His hands clenched anxiously, and he asked hoarsely, “Why…?”

“For you,” Wen Yun answered plainly, without hesitation or any room for interpretation.

Xie Zhinan looked at him, his eyes gradually widening. His tea-colored pupils shimmered with a moist light, reflecting Wen Yun’s face. He seemed unable to comprehend, murmuring, “… Me?”

Wen Yun repeated, “You.”

His heart began pounding wildly, the sound so loud it was almost deafening. Xie Zhinan, dazed, asked, “But… why?”

Wen Yun lowered his gaze, his dark eyes locking onto Xie Zhinan’s. In a soft voice, he asked, “Why do you think, Xie Zhinan?”