55

Gu Zhao released the embrace, his large hand taking Ji Su's, fingers interlacing, and led him toward the car.

Ji Su settled into the passenger seat, long thick lashes still beaded with tears, the corners of his eyes reddened—pitiful and lovely at once.

Gu Zhao leaned over, fastened his seatbelt for him, then lifted a hand to wipe the tear-tracks beneath his eyes, soothing in a low voice: "Don't cry. It breaks my heart."

Ji Su sniffed, his voice carrying a cute nasal quality: "I didn't want to cry either. It's all your fault… you moved me too much."

During the confrontation with Ji Zhenghai in the study, he had actually been quite calm—because he knew that even if he screamed and wept, no one would ache for him.

But now that Gu Zhao had come, he no longer had to suppress his grievances; he could, with abandon, wipe every tear onto his lover's shoulder.

Gu Zhao cradled that face—beautiful even in tears—and asked with a smile: "Moved so easily?"

"I am." Ji Su lifted his gaze to meet his. "When did you get here?"

"Just arrived a little while ago." Gu Zhao replied. "You sent a message saying you'd stay for dinner tonight, so I drove over, planning to pick you up after you ate and take you home."

The corners of Ji Su's mouth curved, his tears giving way to a smile: "Then your timing is awfully convenient."

Gu Zhao brushed the tip of his nose against Ji Su's: "What happened? Want to tell me about it?"

Ji Su unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned into his arms, and slowly told him the whole story from beginning to end.

He spoke of a childhood that had, for a brief span, been happy; of years spent drifting outside his parents' new families, never quite belonging; of how he had finally mustered the courage to leave the cage that called itself home.

"I used to think that even a home and family in name alone, I couldn't let go of lightly." Ji Su laughed at himself. "Looking back now, I was only ever deceiving myself."

Gu Zhao held him tight, bent to press a kiss against his forehead, and made a solemn promise: "Ji Su, we will have a real home of our own."

Ji Su tilted his face up and said softly: "Gu Zhao, if I had never met you, I might have muddled through this whole life like that."

Never loved, never belonging—a rootless duckweed, drifting forever.

But heaven had, after all, been kind to him, bringing Gu Zhao to his side.

"There is no 'if.'" Gu Zhao looked into those eyes, washed bright and clear by tears. "Sooner or later, we were destined to be together."

Ji Su's gaze softened: "Really?"

Gu Zhao was silent for a moment, then asked: "Baby, you really don't remember me at all?"

"Hm?" Ji Su blinked, startled. "What do you mean?"

Gu Zhao's smile was one that defied easy description: "We've actually met before, a very long time ago."

Their eyes met, and in a flash of lightning Ji Su suddenly recalled the strange little boy from his dream.

The gaze that had watched him in the dream, and the dark eyes watching him now, impossibly, overlapped.

Ji Su cried out involuntarily: "It was you…"

"You remember?" The smile at Gu Zhao's lips deepened. "You little ingrate—I've never forgotten you, not for a single day."

"How could that be…" Ji Su was caught in an emotion beyond disbelief. "Back then, were you locked in the basement of the house next door?"

He remembered, too, that his grandmother had once mentioned a child living next door—though the child almost never came out, so he had never seen him.

"That's right." Gu Zhao answered. "During that time, I could hear you playing the Piano every day."

The child he had been told himself that the one playing must be lonely too—otherwise, why would they play the same piece every single day?

But because someone seemed to be keeping him company, the darkness became a little easier to bear.

"So…" Ji Su tried to sort through the flood of information in his mind. "The reason you like that piano piece—is it because of me?"

"Because of you." Gu Zhao's expression softened. "Fate has not been unkind to me—it brought you to my side from the very beginning."

Though they had missed each other for more than ten years in between, after all the wandering, they had found each other again.

"When did you remember?" Ji Su's heart was a tangle of feelings. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I didn't want your pity." Gu Zhao kissed his lips, murmuring against them: "I only wanted you to love me."

He did not wait for Ji Su to answer; a hot tongue pressed past his lips, slipping in to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended, Ji Su lay limp in the seat, breathing in shallow, trembling draws.

Gu Zhao licked the wet trace from his lips and laughed low: "Not good enough—we'll have to practice more."

Ji Su glared at him with eyes rippling like water—unfortunately, entirely without menace.

Gu Zhao's Adam's apple bobbed; he could not help leaning in again for a fierce, thorough kiss.

Once Ji Su had finally steadied his breathing, Gu Zhao refastened his seatbelt: "Let's go home."

The black Audi rolled slowly away from the Villa district, leaving every unhappy past behind.

From then on, there would be only a new life.

*

Back at home, Ji Su could not help letting out a long breath of relief.

Gu Zhao closed the door behind them: "Go rest in the room for a bit. I'll reheat the food."

Ji Su asked: "You haven't eaten dinner yet?"

"Haven't eaten. I made yours too." Gu Zhao pinched his cheek. "We'll eat together in a bit."

Ji Su answered: "Okay."

Gu Zhao moved quickly; by the time Ji Su had put his things down and come out, the table was already laid with dishes fragrant, colorful, and full of flavor.

Sweet-and-sour ribs, braised pig's trotters, diced chicken with chilies, stir-fried seasonal greens, tomato beef with silky egg, and a winter melon and pork rib soup—all his favorites.

Ji Su pulled out a chair: "Isn't dinner a little too lavish?"

Gu Zhao ladled half a bowl of soup and passed it to him: "You haven't eaten well these past two days. This is to whet your appetite first."

Ji Su took the soup and said, half in jest: "If you keep this up, you'll spoil my stomach."

"What's wrong with spoiling it?" Gu Zhao sat down across from him and replied unhurriedly: "To win a wife's heart, you must first win her stomach."

A faint warmth crept into Ji Su's ears: "Who's your wife…"

"You are." Gu Zhao looked at him. "If you're not my wife, then where has my wife gone?"

The tips of Ji Su's ears grew redder: "In any case, you're not allowed to call me that."

He thought his tone was fierce, but in fact it sounded like nothing more than a pout.

"Then what should I call you?" Gu Zhao asked, the smile half-hidden at the corner of his mouth. "Husband?"

Ji Su blinked his lashes: "That one I can accept."

"Whose husband goes weak in the knees from a kiss, hmm?" Gu Zhao leaned in slightly, lowering his voice: "Whose husband, in bed, cries out—"

"Gu Zhao!" Ji Su cut him off, flushed with both embarrassment and vexation: "If you keep this up, I really won't talk to you!"

"All right, I'll stop." Gu Zhao straightened up, letting him off for now. "Let's eat."

After the two of them finished dinner, Ji Su took a change of clothes and went to shower first.

After his shower, he climbed onto Gu Zhao's bed and sat cross-legged, replying to messages.

Gu Zhao walked into the bedroom and arched a brow: "Sleeping with me tonight?"

"Mm." Ji Su lifted his eyes. "Is that not allowed?"

"Of course it's allowed. Why wouldn't it be?" Gu Zhao laughed. "I'll go shower too."

When he came out of the bathroom, he saw Ji Su lying on his pillow, eyes closed, asleep.

Gu Zhao walked over, sat on the edge of the bed, and reached out to touch the half of his face that was exposed.

No matter how many times he had teased him, the one lying in the bed still kept no guard up against him.

Such wholehearted trust—how could he bear to betray it?

Gu Zhao withdrew his hand, bent down, and pressed a kiss to that soft, plump cheek: "Goodnight, baby."

He lay down on the bed, carefully turning Ji Su over and gathering him into his arms.

Half in dreams, half awake, Ji Su gave a small hum and obediently nestled into the familiar embrace.

Gu Zhao's heart grew warm, and a little itchy, as though a kitten's paw had grazed him lightly.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of Ji Su's hair, closed his eyes, and sank into deep sleep.

*

Ji Su slept soundly that night, only waking the next morning, refreshed and clear-headed.

He tilted his face up in Gu Zhao's arms, his gaze settling on that sharply defined jaw.

After watching for a moment, Ji Su could not resist lifting a hand and brushing his fingertips over the stubble that had grown in.

A faint blue-black shadow, prickly to the touch, lending this handsome face a touch of masculine edge.

Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, Gu Zhao suddenly opened his eyes, his large hand catching Ji Su's.

His voice, fresh from sleep, was a little hoarse: "Sneaking a feel?"

"How is that sneaking?" Ji Su replied, entirely self-righteous. "You're my boyfriend. I can touch you openly and legitimately."

"Oh." Gu Zhao's eyes glinted with amusement. "In that case, touch me a little longer."

So saying, he guided that soft hand slowly downward.

Ji Su's fingers curled from the heat, the warmth climbing from his fingertips upward: "How can you—again…"

Gu Zhao slipped beneath the thin quilt, continuing downward.

Ji Su gasped: "Gu Zhao!"

"Mm…" A muffled reply came from beneath the covers, followed by a suspicious wet sound.

Ji Su's fingers twisted in the sheets; one foot slipped out from under the quilt, the pale toes curling tight, the blue veins on the instep standing out.

Soon a large hand emerged from the covers, gripping the slender ankle firmly, then traveling upward along the long, straight calf…

After what felt like an age, Gu Zhao emerged from beneath the quilt.

His fringe clung damp to his forehead, his thin lips reddened from friction, and his dark eyes shone with an almost frightening brightness.

Ji Su lay on the sheets, panting, his gaze unfocused, the flush on his face spreading down to his neck and chest.

Gu Zhao leaned in to kiss those slightly parted lips and asked, his voice rough: "Baby, did you like it?"

Ji Su could not speak; he could only nod.

Gu Zhao brushed the bridge of his nose against the soft, tender flesh of Ji Su's cheek: "Then, baby, can you give me a little reward?"

Without thinking, Ji Su nodded again: "I can…"

"All right, wait for me a moment." Gu Zhao rose from the bed, opened the wardrobe, pulled out a set of clothes, and walked back to the bed.

Ji Su's gaze fell on what was in his hands, and his hazy senses sharpened a fraction.

Gu Zhao was holding a sailor uniform, but it looked nothing like any sailor uniform Ji Su had ever worn.

The top had pitifully little fabric, the chest panel sheer, with only a lace bow to barely cover anything.

The skirt was shorter than any normal sailor uniform—he even suspected it wouldn't cover his bottom at all…

Besides that, Gu Zhao was also holding a pair of lace white socks and a strap-style leg garter.

Ji Su's chest rose and fell twice, and he said in a small voice: "This isn't right…"

"How isn't it right?" Gu Zhao knelt onto the bed with one knee. "Isn't this your favorite sailor uniform?"

Ji Su shook his head, his pale, faintly pink elbows bracing against the bed as he scooted his bottom toward the headboard.

Gu Zhao set the sailor uniform aside, his large hand catching Ji Su's ankle and dragging him back in one pull: "You promised me a reward. What are you running from now?"