RKNDL chapter 40

The door that had just closed was slowly reopened by Xie Zhinan.

As the gap widened, light from the hallway streamed in, and Wen Yun appeared before him once more.

He stood there silently, his gaze slightly lowered, focused on Xie Zhinan, his stance unchanged from before.

At that moment, Xie Zhinan realized—Wen Yun had never left. He had been waiting there the entire time.

Xie Zhinan’s lashes fluttered nervously. He moved his lips and uttered, “I…”

Wen Yun stepped closer to him. “You.”

Xie Zhinan instinctively stepped back.

It was as if Wen Yun had finally run out of patience. Xie Zhinan had never been so acutely aware of it.

Step by step, Wen Yun advanced. Slowly, deliberately, but with a palpable pressure. The tips of his black leather shoes touched the toes of Xie Zhinan’s white canvas sneakers, leaving no room for retreat as he pushed him into the room.

Xie Zhinan backed away, and Wen Yun followed until the door clicked shut behind them. The light from the hallway disappeared, leaving them enveloped in darkness.

There was no escape now.

Xie Zhinan’s back hit the wall.

Wen Yun stood right in front of him, trapping him in the narrow space.

The room remained unlit, with only faint light streaming in from the window, casting a soft glow over the dimly lit space.

Xie Zhinan looked up at Wen Yun, who looked back at him. Wen Yun’s thick, straight lashes cast sharp shadows, their curve resembling a blade.

It was as if the next moment, he would slice open Xie Zhinan’s soft inner thoughts, revealing what he was thinking, what he was afraid of.

Wen Yun hadn’t drunk much that night, only a few sips. Xie Zhinan couldn’t tell if he was intoxicated.

He seemed sober enough—standing tall, breathing steady, his expression as composed as ever.

But those dark eyes were an enigma, cold yet smoldering, carrying a dangerous intensity and a sense of dominance.

“What were you going to say?” Wen Yun leaned in slightly, the distance between them shrinking further.

Their breaths intertwined, and their noses almost touched.

Xie Zhinan swallowed hard and tried to turn his face away, but Wen Yun reached out, gently gripping his chin, forcing him to look back.

“You’re hiding again,” Wen Yun murmured, his voice low and husky, each word landing clearly in Xie Zhinan’s ears. “When will you stop hiding, Xie Zhinan?”

That question pierced straight into Xie Zhinan’s heart, leaving it aching. His chin was held lightly—not forcefully—but it felt as if escape was impossible. Resigned, he allowed himself to be held in Wen Yun’s hand, his Adam’s apple trembling slightly as he whispered, “Are you… drunk?”

“What do you think?” Wen Yun asked in return.

Too dangerous.

They were too close—so close their noses were already touching, as if a kiss might happen at any moment.

Were they supposed to be in this kind of proximity, speaking in such intimate tones?

With his chin held and his body pinned against the wall, Xie Zhinan couldn’t move. He lowered his gaze, holding onto the last shred of his ability to avoid confrontation. “You’re drunk… right?”

His voice was barely audible, almost like a self-doubting murmur.

Wen Yun replied, “Let’s just say I am.”

Xie Zhinan pressed his lips together, saying nothing more.

Wen Yun studied his lowered lashes and softly asked, “Can you raise your eyes and look at me?”

Xie Zhinan’s lashes were soft and fluttering, like butterfly wings.

At those words, the black butterfly wings trembled slightly. Hesitant, he slowly lifted his gaze, revealing his round, tea-colored eyes, glistening faintly with a trace of moisture.

He wasn’t used to such close proximity, such intimate eye contact with Wen Yun. His lashes fluttered a few more times before lowering slightly—just enough to avoid being fully caught.

His gaze fell on Wen Yun’s Adam’s apple—a sharp, defined curve that, in certain moments, would quiver in a way that was extremely seductive.

Xie Zhinan stared at Wen Yun’s Adam’s apple and softly asked, “Are you… angry?”

“I’m not angry.” Wen Yun paused for half a second, then, noticing Xie Zhinan’s perpetually evasive gaze, added, “But I am a little angry.”

Which meant he ~was angry.

“Sorry,” Xie Zhinan mumbled an apology.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I made you angry.”

“Why do you care if I’m angry or not?”

“…”

The question left Xie Zhinan speechless. After a brief silence, he muttered in a low voice, “…I’ll go get you some hangover medicine.”

“Mm, exactly.” Wen Yun said, “That’s exactly why I’m angry.”

Xie Zhinan had been contemplating escape, trying to slip away from Wen Yun’s grasp, but those calm words, tinged faintly with sarcasm, sent a shiver down his spine and froze him in place.

“Xie Zhinan, why are you always trying to avoid me?” Wen Yun leaned in closer, the proximity almost intimate. Their cheeks were nearly touching, so close that Xie Zhinan could faintly feel the softness and warmth of Wen Yun’s skin. “You keep avoiding me, refusing to answer me, and you never mention me to anyone else.”

Xie Zhinan’s heart was pounding so fast it felt like it might leap out of his chest. The room was too quiet—so quiet that he feared Wen Yun could hear the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

His heart was racing—so fast, so violently.

So… utterly out of control.

Xie Zhinan felt as if he was on the brink of collapse, his rationality teetering, ready to be pulled into an endless abyss or to drown in that sweet yet deadly jar of honey.

Countless emotions and thoughts tugged at him. He knew he shouldn’t be this close to Wen Yun, shouldn’t allow this ambiguous intimacy.

Yet in his mind, the image of Wen Yun telling him not to hide replayed over and over.

And then there were Wen Yun’s eyes on the beach, bathed in the burning hues of the sunset.

Eyes that were deep and fervent, yet soft, as if cradling him gently. Eyes that seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

Perhaps he truly was hopeless, completely without growth.

Xie Zhinan just couldn’t bring himself to refuse Wen Yun.

Finally, his mind went blank. Lips trembling, he apologized once more, this time in a low voice: “I’m sorry. It’s just… I feel a little scared.”

“What are you afraid of?” Wen Yun asked.

Xie Zhinan’s courage seemed to have only lasted long enough for that single admission. His lips pressed tightly shut, refusing to say more.

When he didn’t answer, Wen Yun pressed him again, “What are you afraid of?”

Xie Zhinan shook his head, his voice almost breaking into a sob, eyebrows slightly furrowed in a pitiful expression. “Can I not say it?”

Wen Yun seemed determined not to let him off today. Cruelly, he aimed to pull Xie Zhinan out of his self-protective cocoon, demanding, “Why not?”

“…”

Xie Zhinan remained silent.

His unwillingness to cooperate was obvious. Wen Yun took another step forward, closing the distance between them. The proximity was suffocating, leaving Xie Zhinan feeling oxygen-deprived. Instinctively, he tilted his head back, hoping to catch a breath of fresh air.

Little did he know that this motion exposed his most vulnerable spot to Wen Yun.

Without hesitation, Wen Yun reached out with his other hand, cradling Xie Zhinan’s slender neck in his palm. He held it gently, feeling the delicate structure tremble beneath his touch—the flow of blood, the pulse beneath his fingers.

At this moment, Xie Zhinan, his entire being and even his life, was entirely under Wen Yun’s control.

Xie Zhinan tilted his neck slightly, eyes closed, lashes casting soft shadows downward, his chin lifting slightly as if accommodating Wen Yun’s movements. He looked as though he was offering himself willingly, surrendering to Wen Yun’s mercy.

Such an expression always stirred something dark within Wen Yun, a kind of wicked desire. At times, he even thought about putting a chain around Xie Zhinan’s neck.

That way, Xie Zhinan could never escape, and he would forever hold the reins to his life, his pleasure, and his pain.

But he could never truly bring himself to do it, his resolve never strong enough.

Wen Yun’s grip remained light, so light it was barely a touch against Xie Zhinan’s neck. He leaned in closer. Their lips were nearly touching, yet his voice, when he spoke, was cold and suppressed.

“Xie Zhinan, who taught you to lie?” he asked.

“…”

That question finally nailed Xie Zhinan in place.

He could no longer play dumb, no longer avoid the issue. The more he tried to evade, the more determined Wen Yun was to rip the truth open and lay it bare before him.

Xie Zhinan froze, his whole body stiff. He couldn’t recover for a long time. The precarious string finally snapped, and the past he had deliberately blurred rose to the surface layer by layer. Memories buried deep, never forgotten, surged up alongside Wen Yun’s words, pinning him firmly in place.

After a few seconds, Xie Zhinan’s shoulders slumped in defeat. His defenses crumbled, and he sank into silence as if he didn’t know what else to say.

Perhaps his silence was misinterpreted as defiance or another attempt to escape.

Wen Yun’s hand loosened its grip on Xie Zhinan’s chin and instead brushed against his earlobe. Xie Zhinan’s skin was sensitive; a slight pinch there would quickly turn it red.

The hand resting on his neck slid downward, landing on his slender, pronounced collarbone. The skin there began to tremble under the touch.

They knew each other’s bodies too well. Any resistance was futile.

Xie Zhinan felt utterly at Wen Yun’s mercy, like a fish out of water, helpless and exposed. Every vulnerable spot was being scrutinized and toyed with, and no amount of struggling could save him. All he could do was tremble faintly.

The grip on his neck loosened, but the words Wen Yun had spoken earlier still lingered like a blade that had fallen. Overwhelmed, Xie Zhinan turned his face away in shame.

His breathing quickened, and the corners of his eyes glistened, though it was unclear if it was from fear or something else.

Wen Yun could see his clenched teeth, his averted face, and his closed eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze.

He resembled a small animal cornered with no escape, its shallow breaths barely noticeable. Knowing there was no way out, it could only cower submissively, waiting for the inevitable bite that would tear through its throat.

It was a sight that tugged painfully at the heart, leaving one aching and overwhelmed.

Xie Zhinan’s hair, damp from the sea breeze, clung to the sides of his face. Wen Yun gently brushed it aside and rested his palm at the back of Xie Zhinan’s neck in a soothing gesture. Xie Zhinan flinched slightly, perhaps trying to pull away, but the movement was so small that it seemed more like he was nuzzling into Wen Yun’s hand.

Warm, soft.

And perhaps, just a little dependent.

Though Xie Zhinan himself might not even have realized this faint trace of reliance.

Wen Yun’s heart softened in an instant, but he still didn’t let him off the hook. Instead, his tone eased, his voice dropping low as he coaxed, “Xie Zhinan, have you ever dated anyone?”

Xie Zhinan turned his face away further, leaving Wen Yun’s lips almost pressed to his ear.

When Wen Yun spoke, the warm, sticky breath flowed straight into Xie Zhinan’s ear, leaving his mind overheated and muddled.

Every breath carried Wen Yun’s scent. Even on such a cold night, Xie Zhinan could feel the warmth emanating from him.

He was, in essence, trapped in a cage named Wen Yun.

His ability to think and resist had completely deserted him. His soul quivered as he opened his mouth slightly, but no sound emerged—only the faint movement of his Adam’s apple as if in nervous reaction.

Wen Yun lowered his head, his lips almost brushing the corner of Xie Zhinan’s mouth, as he repeated, “Have you ever dated anyone?”

His breath almost filled Xie Zhinan completely.

Xie Zhinan didn’t speak, and Wen Yun’s lips landed on the corner of his mouth.

A very light kiss.

Xie Zhinan’s fingers curled up, his breath faltering, and finally, he could no longer hold back. In a hoarse, wet voice, he said, “…I’ve dated.”

“With whom?”

“…”

He fell silent again, so Wen Yun moved and kissed the tip of his ear, which had turned so red it seemed like it might bleed.

“With whom?” He repeated, his voice still cold, yet it made Xie Zhinan feel a burning, unbearable sensation.

Xie Zhinan’s back trembled, and he was finally forced to squeeze the answer from his throat: “…You.”

That answer seemed to drain him of all his strength.

Xie Zhinan’s head spun, a wave of dizziness hit him, and he almost collapsed. But suddenly, his body froze, bracing itself, and he remained completely still, unable to think or even process his feelings of sadness, grievance, or any other emotion.

Because Wen Yun’s head had lowered, resting on his shoulder.

Though he was the one who had forced the situation, Xie Zhinan’s answer made it feel as though he, too, was being forgiven.

“Why pretend not to know me at the company dinner?” Wen Yun asked, leaning on Xie Zhinan’s slender shoulder. The cold detachment was gone, and so was the suppressed frustration. His voice was flat, carrying a long-held exhaustion and tenderness.

This posture was one of affection and trust.

They were no longer in a boss-subordinate relationship, but rather, a relationship where they had once been close, sharing whispered words and sleeping side by side.

Xie Zhinan’s heartbeat was racing, almost as if it were going to explode. His ears buzzed, and his shoulders felt alien to him. His throat rolled again and again as he struggled to regain some ability to think and said, “…It’s better if we don’t know each other at the company.”

“Why, Nan Nan?” Wen Yun asked softly.

Xie Zhinan’s thoughts were a mess. Once again, he found himself wondering why they were now so intimately close, discussing their relationship.

It felt unreal, like a dream, and he zoned out for a long time.

But Wen Yun didn’t rush him this time.

At some point, Xie Zhinan realized their positions had changed.

His waist was now encircled, his back held, and without realizing it, he had been pulled into Wen Yun’s embrace.

Wen Yun held him close, his head resting on his shoulder, his breath light, steady, and soft, brushing against Xie Zhinan’s ear, causing it to itch painfully.

After a long while, Xie Zhinan seemed to find a trace of a clue from his past memories.

He could only rely on instinct, a bit dazed, and suddenly said, “That day when I saw you, you said, ‘Excuse me.’”

Wen Yun’s breath faltered for a moment.

So that was it.

That was where Xie Zhinan had been hurt.

Wen Yun had come over that day to meet Xie Zhinan.

But when Xie Zhinan saw him, his first reaction was to take a step back, pale as if startled, like a scared animal.

So in the end, Wen Yun only said, “Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry,” Wen Yun’s voice was hoarse, “That day, I… saw that you were scared of me.”

But after such a long separation, they really shouldn’t have started like that.

Xie Zhinan, possibly confused by the apology or still in a daze, blankly said, “It’s okay, why do you need to apologize?”

In his view, it was only natural that Wen Yun didn’t want to have any connection with him.

“Maybe because I made you sad,” Wen Yun said.

Xie Zhinan’s fingers curled again.

After a long silence, he finally spoke very quietly, “It’s okay if I’m sad.”

Wen Yun silently sighed in his heart.

Xie Zhinan never felt safe. He put himself in a position where he could be discarded at any moment, which allowed him to calmly accept all the harm others inflicted on him.

But that was fundamentally wrong.

Wen Yun’s heart nearly swelled with a bitter, aching emotion, but in the end, he just sighed softly and said patiently, “It’s not okay.”

Xie Zhinan lowered his head without speaking. Perhaps he couldn’t understand what difference it would make if he were sad.

Wen Yun didn’t push any further.

They still had a long, long time to explore this issue.

“Xie Zhinan,” Wen Yun called out.

“Mm,” Xie Zhinan answered obediently in his arms.

“It’s been a long time,” Wen Yun said.

“…”

The words came unexpectedly. They had already reunited and spent two months together. How could it be considered “a long time”?

But at that moment, Xie Zhinan seemed to understand Wen Yun’s thoughts.

From the perspective of being ex-boyfriends, it really had been a long time.

After a brief silence, Xie Zhinan finally, as if admitting something, spoke in a low and hoarse voice, “Long… time no see.”

“Then…” Wen Yun lifted his head from Xie Zhinan’s shoulder, resting his forehead against Xie Zhinan’s, looking into his eyes. He whispered, “After lying to me tonight, isn’t there any way to make it up to me?”

Xie Zhinan’s eyelashes trembled.

He didn’t respond, but Wen Yun wasn’t in a hurry. He just gently rubbed his nose against Xie Zhinan’s, first to the left, then to the right.

Xie Zhinan, perhaps charmed by him tonight, felt his throat tighten.

Then, as Wen Yun rubbed their noses together again, he slightly lifted his chin.

The suit draped over him fell to the floor, piling at their feet.

Finally, they kissed.

 

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Author’s Note:

PS: The two of them haven’t completely talked things through yet; it’s a process, after all. Right now, the atmosphere is just right qvq, something needs to happen, hehe =v=

Thank you all for your support, see you next time~

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