Chapter 122: Cold, Crazy School Idol x Spoiled, Delicate Little Brat 30
Mu Jianian wiped his hands.
He walked over, picked Jiang Luoluo up, and placed him on the sink. Then, he used the running water from the faucet to wash his hands.
The boy’s soft, white fingers nestled in Mu Jianian’s broad palm. The clear water flowed between his fingers, dripping into the sink.
Jiang Luoluo watched Mu Jianian’s movements silently, then glanced up at the man’s handsome face.
The fierce expression that had been there earlier was gone, replaced by an extraordinary tenderness as he washed Jiang Luoluo’s hands. It was just like a husband cradling his wife in his arms and coaxing her.
Mu Jianian lifted his eyelids slightly. “Baby, are you afraid of me?”
Jiang Luoluo hesitated for a moment before nodding honestly. “A little…”
Mu Jianian paused in his washing, but quickly resumed.
He leaned down slightly, gazing intently at his delicate little wife.
His thumb brushed across Jiang Luoluo’s soft cheek. Mu Jianian’s eyes darkened, as if he were recalling something else entirely.
His voice was rough, as if forced from his throat.
“Can you stop being afraid of me?”
“Baby, you shouldn’t be afraid of me.”
Jiang Luoluo didn’t understand why Mu Jianian’s emotions had suddenly become so complex; his gaze even seemed to hold meanings he couldn’t decipher.
It was supposed to be him who was afraid of him…
Yet in this moment, he saw a flicker of fear in Mu Jianian’s eyes.
Jiang Luoluo nodded obediently. Before he could say anything, Mu Jianian pulled him tightly into his embrace.
His deep, melodious voice resonated in his ear, and hot kisses rained down on his cheek and neck.
“Baby, don’t leave me…”
“I can’t lose you again…”
Jiang Luoluo’s mind was hazy. He wrapped his arms around his neck, nodding repeatedly.
He pressed him further, forcing him to make tearful, rambling promises.
“Baby isn’t afraid of Husband anymore…”
“Baby will stay with Husband forever… won’t go anywhere…”
“Baby will never leave Husband…”
Jiang Luoluo was simple-minded and had a short memory. After a night’s sleep, yesterday’s events were already forgotten.
He snuggled in Mu Jianian’s arms, his voice soft and sweet as he playfully whined. He then held up his fingers, listing the places they planned to eat, drink, and have fun that day.
Each sweet “Husband” melted Mu Jianian’s phoenix eyes into a smile. He couldn’t resist kissing Jiang Luoluo’s cheek. He felt like plucking stars from the sky for him, let alone these small requests.
The resort town had a popular commercial street that was especially lively at night.
At the grilled giant squid stall, a sizzling sound filled the air as the skewered squid was pressed against the iron plate, sending up plumes of smoke that drew tourists’ attention.
The candied hawthorns and strawberries glistened like crystal. The sour and spicy noodles were topped with a layer of bright red oil. Freshly fried Changsha stinky tofu clattered crisply in the ladle as it was flipped. The cheesy sweet potato filled the air with an irresistible aroma, and when pulled apart, it stretched into long, gooey strands.
Jiang Luoluo held a thick-cut rum-chocolate fried yogurt, studded with almonds, raisins, and dried hawthorns, that looked especially delicious under the night market lights.
Mu Jianian kept one arm protectively around Jiang Luoluo’s shoulders, while his other hand carried bags overflowing with the delicacies his little darling had scavenged.
The man in his arms was thrilled, his smile radiant and his voice filled with joy.
Like a little fish, he couldn’t be held back, his nose leading him straight to the next stall.
“Husband~ Take a picture of me!”
Jiang Luoluo pointed at the iconic giant doll nearby, his voice clear and bright.
Just after taking the photo, before he could even scoop a spoonful of fried yogurt into his mouth, two boys approached Mu Jianian shyly.
Holding up their phones, their cheeks flushed.
Their voices were drowned out by the noisy crowd, so he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Jiang Luoluo rushed over and vaguely heard them asking for Mu Jianian’s WeChat.
He immediately spread his arms, shielding Mu Jianian behind him like a protective wolf guarding its pray. “He doesn’t have WeChat!”
One of the boys protested, “How can anyone not have WeChat—”
Jiang Luoluo’s almond eyes, dark and bright, narrowed fiercely. “I said he doesn’t have WeChat, so he doesn’t have WeChat!”
The scene mirrored a memory from the past.
It reminded him of the young, milk-soft Jiang Luoluo, who had pushed away a cookie with a childishly fierce expression.
Mu Jianian looked down at the golden strands of hair glinting under the lights, his profile softened with tenderness.
He stroked Jiang Luoluo’s head, his voice filled with indulgence.
“Mm, my wife doesn’t let me use WeChat. Strict household rules.”
The two boys retreated awkwardly. Jiang Luoluo turned back and suddenly met Mu Jianian’s gaze.
His phoenix eyes held a smile, and his finger brushed against his cheek.
The lamplight illuminated his tall, slender figure, softening his chiseled features into an unusually gentle expression.
Jiang Luoluo blinked.
A handsome face loomed before him, and cool lips pressed against his brow.
His clear, resonant voice seemed to transcend time, tinged with a nostalgic tenderness:
“My precious, you haven’t changed a bit.”
Jiang Luoluo’s almond eyes curved into crescent moons as he laughed, his voice clear and bright:
“Do you still love me as much as before?”
Mu Jianian’s heart ached.
He raised his hand, his slender fingers covering Jiang Luoluo’s eyes.
A flicker of disappointment and pain flashed in his handsome eyes as he kissed the tip of his small nose.
As if speaking to his amnesiac wife, or perhaps weaving a fragile dream for himself, he murmured,
“Yes, my precious, you’ve always loved me this much.”
The small face beneath his palm stirred, and his lips curved into a joyful smile.
He hummed happily in agreement.
Later, as they reached the end of the food street, Jiang Luoluo grew hungry and pulled Mu Jianian toward a stall selling spicy and sour noodles.
“Two bowls, please!”
The stall owner expertly prepared the noodles. “Cilantro?”
“Yes!”
Jiang Luoluo added, “Oh, and one bowl without soybeans. My husband doesn’t eat them.”
Mu Jianian, who was scanning the QR code to pay, froze in place.
It felt as if a gun were pressed against the back of his head. His breath caught in his throat, and his palms turned cold.
He heard his heart skip a beat, then resume its heavy thudding.
He didn’t even dare to look at Jiang Luoluo’s face.
So… had every memory returned to him?
The chaotic sounds around them seemed to vanish instantly. Mu Jianian’s fingertips, gripping his phone, turned white from the force.
Even Jiang Luoluo’s turn became slow motion, each frame stretched out in agonizing detail.
He heard Jiang Luoluo’s voice, soft and questioning, “Husband?”
Mu Jianian’s dark eyes locked onto Jiang Luoluo’s face. His throat bobbed nervously as he swallowed unconsciously.
His delicate smile was radiant, his thick lashes fluttering under the lamplight, his beautiful eyes sparkling with tiny flecks of joy.
There wasn’t a trace of fear or disgust, not a hint of any negative emotion.
Mu Jianian’s tightly pressed lips parted slightly, and he gripped Jiang Luoluo’s hand tightly.
Jiang Luoluo squeezed his hand in return. “Husband, your hand is so cold~”
Mu Jianian didn’t answer his question. Instead, he asked casually, “Has Baby remembered anything from before?”
Jiang Luoluo tilted his head, looking at him with a confused expression.
“What do you mean, ‘before’?”
Mu Jianian: “Didn’t you say you couldn’t remember things from before?”
Jiang Luoluo nodded.
Then, realization dawned on him. “Oh, the soybeans!”
He furrowed his delicate brows, looking slightly distressed, his petal-like lips pouting slightly.
“I don’t know why, it just slipped out.”
“Probably because the memory is so vivid!”
Mu Jianian’s heart clenched, a wave of sourness washing over him.
He remembered the boy buried deep in his memory.
So delicate, clumsily picking soybeans out of the pig’s trotters soup with a tiny spoon, then carefully holding the bowl with both hands and offering it to him.
His eyes, beautiful as if glowing, like a warm little sun, his cheerful voice echoing across mountains and streams:
“Mu Jianian, from now on, I’ll always pick out the beans for you at every meal!”
Mu Jianian’s eyes burned with unshed tears.
Too much time had passed. He only remembered the resentment of being teased, the cold words that had come from the other side of the wall.
He seemed to have forgotten that the Jiang Luoluo of that time had once cared for him too.
Perhaps…
Perhaps for a moment, he had even liked him.
That’s why he pursued him so recklessly, blushing and letting him kiss him, obediently wearing his clothes, and snuggling into his arms.
And those words he had clung to, repeatedly using to warn himself.
Could it be possible… that he had only said them out of fear of his father’s scolding?
Could it be possible… that he had once genuinely liked him too?
“Hot and sour noodles are here!”
Jiang Luoluo laughed carefree, lowering his head to eat.
Mu Jianian watched him with half-closed eyes, his long lashes casting a shadow across his face.
Suddenly, he desperately wanted to ask him how much of his feelings had been genuine back then.
To ask him if there had ever been a single moment when he had truly liked him.
But his treasure remembered nothing.
Those memories, both beautiful and painful, the smiling-faced boy from his memories—only he remained to remember them.
In the deepest recesses of time, he was left alone.
A gentle breeze swept through, carrying the chill of late autumn.
At the boundary between light and shadow, Mu Jianian closed his eyes.
His eyes reddened.
After leaving the food street, they strolled leisurely toward the exit.
Jiang Luoluo, clutching a strawberry ice cream cone, happily swung Mu Jianian’s hand as they meandered through the shade of the trees.
Further ahead lay an ancient alleyway, where the occasional sign for a guesthouse flashed at the entrance.
Unlike the bustling food street, this place was quiet, exuding a sense of tranquility and timelessness.
Mu Jianian took off his suit jacket and put it on Jiang Luoluo, then rolled up his sleeves.
“Are you cold?”
Jiang Luoluo took a bite of his ice cream cone, shivering from the cold. He stubbornly replied, “No!”
Mu Jianian chuckled and wiped the ice cream milk from the corner of his lips.
Footsteps approached, and a young couple passed by, laughing and chatting.
Jiang Luoluo turned to watch them, then stood on tiptoe to kiss Mu Jianian’s lips.
His voice was soft and sweet. “Hubby, come taste and see if I’m sweet~”
Mu Jianian pinched his cheek, about to tease him.
A familiar female voice called out, hesitant yet tinged with humble flattery:
“Young Master Jiang, what are you doing here?”
Hearing the voice, Mu Jianian lifted his eyelids, a cold disgust flashing in his eyes.
Jiang Luoluo turned to look at the woman curiously. “Auntie, do you know me?”
“Jiang Luoluo, shielding Mu Jianian like a fierce little wolf: ‘He doesn’t have WeChat!’ 🐺📵”
If you enjoyed Baby Luo’s dramatic anti-love rival defense, consider buying me a Ko-fi ☕! I promise I’ll guard my motivation just as fiercely as Luo guards his hubby 😂💖
