A warm, comfortable nap filled with a pleasant fragrance.
Fang Xingzhou woke from a deep slumber, stretching contentedly. He sat in the recliner, taking a while to fully come to his senses, feeling as though he had slept for a very, very long time.
A blanket was draped over him, one that looked familiar—perhaps the same one he had handed to Lu Jianchuan an hour ago. His brain still hadn’t fully booted up, so he didn’t recall locking the door before his nap, nor did he have the energy to ponder how the blanket had ended up on him. He simply yawned, rubbed his temples, and instinctively touched his lower abdomen, which felt soft and smooth but was inexplicably aching.
…Maybe he had eaten too quickly at lunch, causing some discomfort, he thought.
He glanced at the clock. There were still five minutes before he had to return to work in the afternoon.
A soft knock came from outside, accompanied by a polite, unfamiliar voice: “Doc. Fang, are you awake? It’s almost time to start work.”
—It was Lu Jianchuan, disguised as an intern.
Fang Xingzhou couldn’t help but smile.
His deer had even put on makeup and altered his voice, thinking he could fool everyone, but he didn’t realize he carried a unique, subtle fragrance that only Fang Xingzhou could detect.
Fang Xingzhou had recognized him at first glance.
Even if Lu Jianchuan had dressed as a woman, Fang Xingzhou would have known it was him.
Fang Xingzhou got up from the recliner, changed into his work clothes, and opened the door. “I’m awake,” he said.
The new “intern, Xiao Wang,” was standing at the door, his gaze fixed on Fang Xingzhou’s face. His eyes were deep, as if filled with unspoken words, and his mood seemed drastically different from that morning, even though they had only been apart for a nap.
Fang Xingzhou frowned slightly.
Strangely, the emotions on the young man’s face seemed split. His upper face looked downcast, while the lower half wore a bright smile. He handed Fang Xingzhou a cup of tea, perfectly warm, and said, “Have some tea to moisten your throat. The office heating makes it dry after a nap.”
Fang Xingzhou’s eyes lingered on the corner of Lu Jianchuan’s eyes.
They were slightly red…
Fang Xingzhou’s heart twitched. He took the tea and drank it in one go, then carefully studied Lu Jianchuan’s expression. “Did you not sleep well at noon? Are you not used to it?”
Lu Jianchuan glanced subtly at Fang Xingzhou’s lower abdomen, confirming that there were no bloodstains on his white shirt. He suppressed the turmoil in his heart, pretending to be drowsy as he rubbed the corner of his eye. “I’m not used to napping at school. I feel a bit groggy.”
Fang Xingzhou went back to the small room, took out a fleece-lined jacket from his personal closet, and said, “You’re not a full-time doctor yet, so you don’t need to get up so early. Go back to sleep for a while.”
Lu Jianchuan took the jacket gloomily. “Doc, you’re so kind to interns. I’m not sleepy anymore, though. Please give me some tasks to do.”
Fang Xingzhou checked the time again. At this hour, Qin Hongbo should be doing rounds, and he himself needed to prepare for surgery. There was still some time before the end of the workday, and he couldn’t stay here to keep an eye on Lu Jianchuan.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
Lu Jianchuan replied, “Serve tea, tidy up the desk, clean—anything that can help.”
Fang Xingzhou pulled a thick textbook from the bookshelf and handed it to Lu Jianchuan. “Study here. I’ll test you on your progress before the end of the day. Don’t wander off. If you’re hungry, go to the cafeteria. They sell snacks after 2:30.”
Lu Jianchuan: “…”
He stiffly looked at the cover of the book, feeling assaulted by memories of his long-dead college days.
Fang Xingzhou still wasn’t entirely at ease. He added, “If I’m not back by the end of the workday, just go home first. Drive carefully. There are a lot of people and cars around here, so don’t speed.”
Lu Jianchuan nodded. “Okay sir.”
Fang Xingzhou stared at him for a few seconds, his gaze lingering on the red corners of Lu Jianchuan’s eyes. For some reason, he felt deeply unsettled.
Lu Jianchuan, thinking he had been found out, tensed up slightly. “Is there something else?”
“If you feel unwell during my surgery…” Fang Xingzhou said slowly, as if it were an afterthought, “go and see a doctor yourself, okay? The gynecology department is on the fifth floor. Dr. An in Room 3 is a friend of mine. She’s easy to talk to.”
Lu Jianchuan: “…What?”
Fang Xingzhou knew he had heard him clearly, so he didn’t repeat himself. He took his scarf from the rack, wrapped it around Lu Jianchuan’s neck, and finally said, “Stay here and behave.”
Lu Jianchuan watched as Fang Xingzhou put on his white coat and left the office, his brows gradually furrowing.
…Gynecology?
Why was he telling a new intern to go to the gynecology department? And… how could he just casually wrap his scarf around another man?!
Lu Jianchuan’s low spirit sank even further. He absentmindedly flipped through the textbook in the consultation room, but soon couldn’t resist. A small tentacle emerged from his body, silently crawling along the ceiling to the operating room, where it stared unblinkingly at Fang Xingzhou, who was focused on his work.
He watched from the afternoon until evening.
The surgery turned out to be more complicated than expected, so Fang Xingzhou was late getting off work. To avoid having his homework checked, Lu Jianchuan left just a second before Fang Xingzhou returned to the office, speeding home in his car.
An hour later, Fang Xingzhou arrived home, carrying several bags of fresh meat as usual. He stood by the entrance, changing his shoes, and asked, pretending they had been apart all day, “How was your day?”
Before the words had fully left his mouth, Lu Jianchuan scooped him up, along with the bags, and carried him to the dining table. He set Fang Xingzhou down on the table, then eagerly pressed his lips against his.
No longer having to pretend not to know his lover, all the emotions he had been holding back finally found an outlet. As they kissed, Lu Jianchuan reached down, holding Fang Xingzhou’s ankle to help him remove the half-off shoe. His fingers slid up the loose trousers, caressing the smooth calf, before finally resting on the skin where his name was engraved.
Fang Xingzhou’s breathing grew ragged. He struggled slightly, trying to push Lu Jianchuan away, but was met with a bite on the corner of his mouth.
This bite was a bit too hasty, and it drew blood.
Lu Jianchuan froze, his body trembling as if electrocuted. The passion that had just surged within him quickly dissipated.
He licked away the blood from Fang Xingzhou’s lip, then pulled back, his hands no longer wandering but resting firmly on Fang Xingzhou’s waist.
“Zhouzhou…” His pupils were slightly red as he stared at the small wound. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Fang Xingzhou licked the barely-there injury, puzzled by Lu Jianchuan’s reaction.
He wrapped his arms around Lu Jianchuan’s neck, pulling him closer and sealing their lips together again. This time, he gently bit Lu Jianchuan’s lower lip, then slowly licked away the tiny bead of blood, using it as a seasoning for their kiss as his tongue tangled with Lu Jianchuan’s soft, agile one.
This action reignited the passion that had momentarily cooled. They kissed fiercely against the dining table, only breaking apart when their jaws grew numb, their eyes still locked on each other.
Fang Xingzhou lifted his leg, pulling Lu Jianchuan closer. His hand slipped under Lu Jianchuan’s shirt, repeatedly caressing the slightly rounded, warm abdomen. His breathing grew heavier, and a drunken-like infatuation clouded his eyes as he whispered, “Was the baby good today?”
“Very good,” Lu Jianchuan replied, his breathing equally unsteady. He covered Fang Xingzhou’s hand with his own. “Never been this good before.”
Today, he hadn’t gone to the farm to terrorize the chickens and pigs. In fact, he hadn’t felt the usual gnawing hunger all day, partly because of the toast from the morning, and partly because… he had spent the entire day near the other father of his child.
For the egg in his belly, the world seemed simple.
Absorb energy, stay close to Dad.
Nothing else mattered.
Fang Xingzhou smiled, leaning down to gently kiss the tattoo on Lu Jianchuan’s abdomen. “He’s grown again. Look, my name is starting to warp.”
Lu Jianchuan chuckled, his abdomen vibrating slightly as if the little one inside was waving at them.
“Are you still hungry?” Fang Xingzhou asked, his lips close to Lu Jianchuan’s belly, as if speaking directly to the egg. “Did you eat well today? If you’re still hungry, let me know. I’ll try to give you more, okay? Do you prefer meat or vegetables? Red meat or white meat? Or maybe… some animal blood?”
Lu Jianchuan, who had been admiring Fang Xingzhou’s pale neck, felt his smile slowly freeze.
He gripped Fang Xingzhou’s shoulders, nervous. “Honey, he’s not hungry at all. Don’t scare him. Kids shouldn’t be eating blood… that’s terrifying.”
Fang Xingzhou kissed the tattoo one more time, then straightened up from the table, his eyes filled with amusement as he looked at Lu Jianchuan. “I was just joking. Little deer, did you stay home all day today?”
Lu Jianchuan coughed lightly, avoiding eye contact.
“Yeah, I didn’t go out much. Just watched TV at home.”
Whenever he told obvious lies, the muscles in his cheeks would tighten, and his eyes would dart around uncertainly… Fang Xingzhou’s smile deepened as he kissed Lu Jianchuan’s tense cheek and nodded.
Staying home all day could get boring. It was good for Lu Jianchuan to go out occasionally, and Fang Xingzhou was happy to play along with his little role-playing games.
At least today—Fang Xingzhou could feel that both Lu Jianchuan and the baby were in much better spirits.
“How about beef stew with potatoes for dinner?” he offered, changing the subject.
Lu Jianchuan was more than happy to steer the conversation away. “Sure, let’s make it together. I already prepared a few dishes before you got back. We just need to add the stew.”
Fang Xingzhou rolled up his sleeves and followed Lu Jianchuan into the kitchen to start preparing dinner.
They cooked all ten pounds of the freshly bought beef in one go, adding plenty of potatoes, tomatoes, lettuce, and dried tofu for a nutritious stew. The massive pot was carried to the table in a large stainless steel basin.
Lu Jianchuan, meanwhile, brought out the dishes he had prepared earlier: pork liver and wolfberry soup, stir-fried kidney, steamed oysters, vinegar-braised beef blood, abalone chicken… all rich, nourishing foods, quite different from their usual diet.
Fang Xingzhou was slightly taken aback by the spread.
He looked up at Lu Jianchuan, raising an eyebrow. “It seems you have some… dissatisfaction with my recent performance?”
Lu Jianchuan didn’t immediately catch his meaning, looking at his wife in confusion as she took off her apron. “Huh? What dissatisfaction? …Are you talking about the taste of the food?”
Fang Xingzhou chuckled but didn’t respond, returning the apron to the kitchen. It took Lu Jianchuan a moment to realize what he was implying, and he stiffened, quickly saying, “No, of course not! Honey, you’ve got it all wrong. That’s not what I meant!”
Fang Xingzhou: “Oh, so it’s you who needs it?”
Lu Jianchuan: “…”
He straightened up, adopting a serious tone. “Actually, I am a little dissatisfied. Zhouzhou, your stamina is too poor. You always fall asleep halfway through. You must be in poor health, so you need to eat more nourishing food.”
Fang Xingzhou’s voice floated over lightly: “Is that so?”
Lu Jianchuan: “…Yeah. Just a little.”
Having uttered what could be considered a lethally dangerous truth, he quickly changed the subject. “We’re out of rice, so I didn’t cook any. Let’s just eat directly.”
Fang Xingzhou, worried that Lu Jianchuan might still be hungry, rummaged through the kitchen and found half a pack of toast left from the morning, perfect for soaking up the stew’s broth.
He brought the toast and utensils back to the table, but for some reason, the moment Lu Jianchuan saw the toast, his smile vanished. His hand, which had been about to serve the soup, froze mid-air. His lips tightened into a straight line, and his gaze locked onto the toast as if it were something horrifying.
“…Why did you bring that?” he asked slowly, his voice strained. He even took a half-step back, his eyes shifting to Fang Xingzhou’s face, scrutinizing his expression.
“It’s toast. What’s wrong?” Fang Xingzhou found his reaction strange. “It goes well with the stew’s broth. You should try it.”
Lu Jianchuan: “…”
He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the memory of Fang Xingzhou squeezing blood from his wound at noon. But the harder he tried to forget, the clearer the image became, threatening to snap his already frayed nerves.
Lu Jianchuan struggled to hold back, but in the end, he couldn’t take it anymore. He set down the bowl in his hand, snatched the toast from Fang Xingzhou, and threw it into the deepest part of the fridge.
“Xingzhou, I’ve developed a severe toast allergy,” he said gravely. “It’s so severe that just the sight of toast makes me so sad I could die.”
“No more toast in this house.”
“Ever. Again.”
Fang Xingzhou: ?
He was momentarily stunned. A ripple of memory stirred in some corner of his mind, but it was quickly smoothed over by some unknown force.
What’s wrong with toast…?!
