The black umbrella leaned against the door, and as they passed a small bend, it tipped over, resting against Zhou Jun’s left leg. Water droplets from the silk surface soaked into his clothing, dampening his ankles. It was quiet inside the car; Zhou Jun remained unmoved and silent for a long time. Finally, after letting out a soft sigh, he moved.

Bracing himself against the seat, he curled his body as much as possible and settled onto Yong Jin’s lap. He made no effort to support himself, allowing all his weight to rest downwards. Zhou Jun’s expression was calm, showing no humiliation or frustration. His compliance was surprisingly unexpected.

The car window framed a small world, with water droplets crawling across the glass. Inside the car, a layer of mist began to form, likely due to their warm breaths. Zhou Jun felt his hips pressed against the man’s body; it was not the softness one would enjoy. With a touch of dark humor, he thought that not everyone could sit in this position—it was indeed a very rare occasion.

Yong Jin wrapped his arms around him, his hand sliding onto Zhou Jun’s knee, where there were damp marks. As his hand moved down, he touched the bare ankle. On this rainy day, Zhou Jun wore only a pair of wooden clogs. The high waterproof soles and the dark patterned leather contrasted with the loose-fitting pants beneath his long coat, allowing Yong Jin’s hand to slip easily inside.

The fabric of the pants was soft and easily folded as it slid upwards, revealing his calves. Yong Jin’s fingers brushed against the damp skin, still separated by the glove he wore. Unlike his usual military uniform, he was dressed in a suit, with a dark handkerchief stuffed into the pocket. It was clearly meant for decoration, yet Yong Jin asked Zhou Jun pull it out.

It was only with the next movement that Zhou Jun realized the purpose of the handkerchief. His wooden clogs kicked under the chair, his foot caught and resting on the black leather seat. His position shifted; while his hips remained firmly on the hard man’s lap, his back pressed against the door. The sound of rain drummed against the vehicle, gradually growing faster, as if the downpour had intensified. The outside world became increasingly indistinct.

Zhou Jun furrowed his brows as he watched Yong Jin use the handkerchief to wipe the water off his leg. The cloth moved from his kneecap down to his calf, rubbing back and forth a few times before tracing circles around his ankle. There was a small mole there, red and not particularly noticeable, resembling a tiny wound. In the dim weather, the pale blue interior of the car highlighted that little spot. Yong Jin lowered his gaze and commented that it was beautiful.

Zhou Jun didn’t know why he felt awkward and stayed quiet. He reached out and took Yong Jin’s hand, pulling it closer. He looked up at Yong Jin, both of them remain silent. In the distance, a loud thunder crashed, and a bright flash of light filled the car, making everything outside slowly become clear. He grabbed the ring on Yong Jin’s middle finger and carefully pulled the glove off, bit by bit.

He saw again the hand that had once appeared before him, pale and bloodless, like a sculpture. It looked cold but felt warm to the touch. Yong Jin did not stop him from crossing the line, merely holding a vague and shallow smile, as if he were embracing a toy, indulging him.

Zhou Jun held this person’s hand with a playful smile. In the next moment, his perfect teeth opened wide, about to bite down on Yong Jin’s fingertip with a force as heavy as taking a bite of a snack, showing a fierce disregard. However, he ultimately couldn’t match Yong Jin’s quick reflexes; not only did he fail to bite down, but he also had his face pinched and was forcefully pressed against the window.

With a loud thud, the sound of his head hitting the glass echoed. Pain spread from that point, and Yong Jin’s expression turned cold. It was as if they were meeting for the first time—no longer filled with interest or the condescending gaze of a predator watching its prey. Instead, there was utter indifference, a lack of warmth, and an emotionless stare directed at him.

He knew he had angered this person. The grip on his cheek was strong enough that it might leave a mark later on. Despite the inopportune setting, strange thoughts couldn’t help but surface. In another clap of thunder, Zhou Jun slowly extended his tongue and left a small, damp lick on Yong Jin’s palm.

Yong Jin’s gaze was peculiar; his extremely deep eyes fixed on him, as if clouds and rain were all gathered within those irises. He didn’t blink, the sounds of the bustling surroundings faded away. That finger still held his chin firmly.

Strangely, he felt a bit inclined to close his eyes. What was this sensation? An indescribable atmosphere seemed to tell him that perhaps they were about to press their lips together, that they should kiss. If Yong Jin were a woman, she would be such a strong-willed lady, maybe even a spoiled girl who always required men to yield and submit to her.

Yong Jin certainly had a bad temper; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so frightened by that gunshot, causing him to fall from the second floor of the small villa and land in the mud below. In the end, the suit never got cleaned, and he had made the housemaid throw it away.

But no, it seemed he was just overthinking things. Yong Jin withdrew his hand. It was a gradual process, almost as if each finger was being pulled away. Perhaps it had been held for too long, and when released, it felt tinglingly numb. He poked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, feeling unexpectedly disappointed.

Soon, he found his thoughts to be quite strange. Disappointed that Yong Jin hadn’t kissed him? That was absurd. He remained seated on Yong Jin’s lap, barefoot. Stealing glances at the man’s expression, he noticed it had returned to normal; there was no anger, nor did he tell him to leave.

So, Zhou Jun slowly and carefully began to move, trying to get off the firm body of the military man—it wasn’t a comfortable place to stay. But Yong Jin’s hands reached out again, this time both of them gripping his waist and lifting him upward.

The other wooden sandal on Zhou Jun’s foot slipped off, making a soft, crisp sound as it hit the ground. He found himself completely nestled in Yong Jin’s arms. His cheek pressed against the fabric of the shirt, with the stiff collar slightly jutting out. Above that was a perfectly shaped chin and lips. The stubble had just been shaved, leaving a faint blue tint on the man’s jaw. Suddenly, those lips moved: “What are you looking at?”

Zhou Jun shook his head and sighed, curling up both legs. The seat’s leather surface felt cool and smooth to the touch. Yong Jin absentmindedly stroked him, much like one would a cat.

He touched his ear, his hair, his spine, and his leg, even the mole. This time, it was with bare hands, no longer through gloves. The lines on Yong Jin’s palm were deep, and his fingertips were rough. As they rubbed against Zhou Jun’s skin, it felt not only warm but also slightly ticklish. Feeling uneasy, Zhou Jun grabbed Yong Jin’s hand and put the gloves back on him.

He wanted to climb back to his seat, and this time, no one stopped him. The posture was awkward, with his butt sticking out and his hands stretched forward as he crawled. The floor beneath the chair was dirty, and he didn’t want to touch it. Perhaps the posture was too ridiculous, or maybe it was somehow inviting, because Yong Jin reached out to touch him again. This time, his hand slid from the nape of his neck all the way down to his tailbone, giving it a small tap. With a teasing tone, Yong Jin said, “Missing a tail.”

Zhou Jun, annoyed, sat back in his seat. He had one shoe on, while the other was still with Yong Jin. He considered bending down to pick it up, but worried that he’d hear another comment about the missing tail. After some thought, he fixed his gaze on Yong Jin’s feet and said, “My shoe.”

Major Yong naturally crossed his legs. “Didn’t see it,” he said, clearly not intending to help him pick it up. Zhou Jun held back his frustration, reminding himself that this was someone he couldn’t afford to offend. So, he bent down closer to the man’s legs, reaching out to grab the shoe. But his wrist was caught.

Yong Jin tapped Zhou Jun’s wrist bone with his finger and said, “Before you put on your shoe, how about wearing something first?”

Zhou Jun stared at him suspiciously for a moment before sitting back in his seat. After thinking it over, he decided to entertain Yong Jin’s amusement. But if Yong Jin wanted to amuse himself, he’d have to meet Zhou Jun’s conditions too. Propping himself up on the chair, Zhou Jun placed his foot on Yong Jin’s knee.

In the swaying car, he tilted his face slightly, with a playful and somewhat smug smile on his lips. “Alright, but you put it on for me,” he said.