Because he had left midway, when Bian Yiqiu returned to the private room, his subordinates teased him into downing half a bottle of XO. His already muddled mind became even more disoriented, and everyone’s faces blurred into double images.

Zuo Cheng, having learned his lesson, silently watched from the sidelines, not interfering. He didn’t help him drink a single drop. It wasn’t a problem if the boss got drunk; he could carry him back. But if he got drunk and let the boss sneak out at night and run into any danger, then Zuo Cheng might as well quit being a bodyguard.

What? You think Zuo Cheng was getting back at him because he’d been triggered in the restroom? What a joke. Someone as simple-minded and honest as Zuo Cheng would do something like that? Well, you guessed it right, he actually would.

So, after the dinner ended, Boss Bian, as expected, collapsed.

Once in the car, Zuo Cheng asked, as usual, where they were going. Bian Yiqiu, dizzy and slumped in the backseat, stared at the flickering neon lights outside the window and mumbled an address.

Zuo Cheng said nothing about the destination Bian Yiqiu had mumbled. With his hands gripping the steering wheel, he turned left, and the sleek, luxurious car smoothly cut through the strange city lights, speeding toward the outskirts.

Bian Yiqiu dozed off in the car, and when he woke up, he found that Zuo Cheng had parked outside the villa at Yuelong Bay. He frowned, his muddled brain in a daze, unsure why Zuo Cheng had brought him here. But because he was so drunk, even that fleeting moment of confusion quickly passed. He didn’t have the energy to think about such a complicated question.

Zuo Cheng was already aware of the villa’s secret and, thinking himself clever, assumed that his boss had plans with Young Master Ke tonight, which was why they were headed there in the middle of the night. After making sure Boss Bian was settled, he quietly stepped out and went elsewhere.

In fact, the words Yuelong Bay had slipped out of Bian Yiqiu’s mouth unconsciously, driven by his dulled senses and inner desires after being numbed by alcohol. They had nothing to do with Ke Mingxuan. The poor, utterly drunk Boss Bian, left unattended at a crucial moment, was like a sad little dog curling up alone in a cold, empty bed, feeling strangely wronged as he drifted off to sleep.

In a haze between wakefulness and sleep, he felt the other side of the bed sink, and then he was pulled into a warm, solid embrace. The familiar, faint fragrance of sandalwood and cedar wafted into his nose, just like the scent he always smelled whenever he dreamed of Ke Mingxuan.

At that moment, he knew he was dreaming again.

It wasn’t anything new by now.

Ever since he had told Ke Mingxuan that they should go their separate ways, he had often seen him in his dreams. Sometimes it was just a blurred figure, sometimes it was a pair of smiling eyes, and other times he would hear him sigh in his ear, helplessly saying, “Why are you always so disobedient?” But never before had it been as real as it was now.

He could touch him, feel him, sense him. The warmth of his body, the steady breath, the strong heartbeat, and the unique, captivating scent that lingered on him. Almost desperately, he pulled him closer, greedily inhaling, like an addict unable to quit, indulging himself in the intense pleasure of a drug that he couldn’t escape, even within a dream.

“Ke Mingxuan…”

He whispered that name, his fingers gently caressing his face, his skin, tracing the contours of his body in the darkness. He leaned in, kissing him, biting his lips and tongue, and as if it were an unspoken dance from countless times before, Ke Mingxuan swiftly turned the tables, becoming the one in control.

Maybe it was something that could become as natural as breathing with time, but in this dream, Bian Yiqiu didn’t even think to resist. He missed him too much. As long as he could hold him, whether on top or beneath, he didn’t care anymore. It was just a dream. Why struggle? Why complicate things? He would take whatever pleasure the dream allowed, giving in completely.

This dream was unlike any other, sensual and intoxicating, filled with a deep, almost feverish longing. Ke Mingxuan’s touch was gentle yet insistent, as if every moment carried an unspoken promise. His lips and tongue traced a path from the corner of Bian Yiqiu’s eye to his ear, then down to his lips, and finally to his collarbone. Each kiss felt like a deep exploration, savoring every inch of his body. Ke Mingxuan moved lower, his lips gliding over the sensitive skin, until they finally reached between Bian Yiqiu’s legs, pressing a kiss to his half-erect member with such tenderness that it made Bian Yiqiu gasp, his body trembling with the sensation.

Such tenderness from Ke Mingxuan was something Bian Yiqiu had never seen in reality, never dared to even imagine. The man who was usually so arrogant and domineering, making people grit their teeth in frustration, always approached him with such aggressive intent. Every action, every touch was laced with demand, a give of one would always be repaid tenfold. How could this same man, who was all sharp edges and control, now be so gentle, serving him with no expectation of return, making him feel as if he were floating in ecstasy?

Indeed, it was just a dream, Bian Yiqiu thought groggily. Yet, the dream felt so real—the sharp, throbbing sensation of being penetrated by the hot, thick length was vividly etched into his mind. For a fleeting moment, his consciousness cleared, and an oddly naive thought crossed his mind: maybe this wasn’t just a dream? But before he could dwell on it, the next intense thrust shattered the thought completely, leaving nothing but a blur of sensation.

He closed his eyes, allowing his body and senses to yield to the growing desire and warmth. Whether it was a dream or not didn’t matter, at this moment, no one could be more intimate than they were.

Ke Mingxuan held him close, their bodies fitting together perfectly in this face-to-face position. Skin pressed against skin, bones molding together, their heartbeats in perfect sync, breaths blending in a steady, harmonious rhythm. Their lips and tongues intertwined, their bodies melded at every intimate connection. Each thrust grew deeper, more intense, pulling him into waves of extreme pleasure, every nerve taut with blissful overwhelm.

In the midst of the overwhelming, intoxicating pleasure that left him nearly lost in sensation, Bian Yiqiu suddenly had a moment of clarity, remembering the words Ke Mingxuan had whispered into his ear outside the private room.

“I miss you.”

He said, “I miss you.”

Bian Yiqiu’s heart clenched painfully, only to be gently caught by a large hand that seemed to appear from nowhere. The fingers curled softly, tender yet deliberate, carefully cradling the beating organ in their palm.

In that moment, all the anger, frustration, and uncertainty seemed to melt away, leaving him trembling, his eyes stinging with the sudden surge of emotion.

“I miss you too.”

Ke Mingxuan, I miss you too.

*****

A hangover is a double-edged sword. It can sweep you away in a vivid, intoxicating dream or hurl you into the cold, merciless grip of reality. A splitting headache is just the beginning. If you open your eyes to a spinning world, your insides staging a full-scale mutiny, and somehow still manage to keep your composure, that would truly be something to admire.

Bian Yiqiu barely cracked one eye open, and the sight of the ceiling tilting as if about to collapse startled him so much he instinctively reached out to grab something—anything. But what could he grab besides the sheets and blankets? The bed seemed to be tipping over too. What the hell? Was this an earthquake? But why was it so damn quiet? Not a single sound or rumble?

Bian Yiqiu spent  a moment fretting before it finally dawned on him. Oh, he was still drunk and dizzy.

Once he figured that out, he didn’t bother forcing his eyes open. Instead, he turned over and stretched himself out across the two-meter-wide bed. His arms reached into empty space, finding nothing but cold air that seeped into his exposed skin, sending a shiver through him. There wasn’t the faintest trace of anyone else.

So, it really had been just a dream. For a moment, he had thought…

He let out a silent sigh, tugging the still-warm blanket around himself like a cocoon. Overthinking wouldn’t do him any good. Better to get some more sleep.

As Bian Yiqiu drifted back into his dreams, feeling crestfallen and utterly dejected, the other star of his spring dream, Ke Mingxuan, was downstairs, phone in hand, his expression as dark as a storm cloud. On the other end of the call, uncontrollable laughter rang out, loud and unending. Ke Mingxuan clenched his jaw, forcing down the urge to erupt in curses. Taking a deep breath, he managed to ask in a stiff voice, “Have you laughed enough yet?”

“Not even close. Maybe call back later?” Chu Yi’s voice was unapologetically amused, his grin almost audible.

Ke Mingxuan felt like coughing up blood. “Chu Yi, are we still brothers or not?”

“Because we’re brothers, I’m happy for you,” Chu Yi replied with faux sincerity.

“Happy? That’s what you call it? Why does it sound more like you’re gloating to me?”

“Then now that you’ve had your laugh, maybe you could tell me how to cook the damn porridge? I’ve burned it twice already!”

Chu Yi rubbed his face, still sore from laughing, before finally getting serious and answering, “You didn’t add enough water.”

“How much water should I add?”

“It depends on whether he prefers it thicker or more watery…”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Ask him.”

“He’s still asleep.”

There was a long pause on Chu Yi’s end before he finally spoke, “What kind of porridge did you make?”

“Just plain rice porridge, what else would it be?”

“Did you use millet? Alcohol can irritate the stomach. Make him some millet porridge instead.”

“No.”

“Then check if you have any meat or vegetables.”

“No.”

“Fish? Eggs?”

“No—are you messing with me? I’m just making porridge, not preparing a full banquet. Just tell me how much rice and water I need!”

Chu Yi answered seriously, “After a hangover, you need something nutritious. Plain porridge isn’t enough. Call the catering department and have them send over some ingredients. Don’t forget to ask for some ginger and green onions.”

“No, are you setting your expectations too high for me? I haven’t even mastered making plain porridge…”

“With me, the chef, around, what do you have to worry about? Go on,” Chu Yi said, not waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. He then flashed a mischievous smile at the screen. It was a rare sight to see the mighty Young Master Ke in the kitchen, and Chu Yi wasn’t about to miss the chance to tease him.

Ke Mingxuan stared at his phone for a full two minutes, as if willing it to shut off out of embarrassment, before slowly dialing the number for the catering department at Yuelong Bay Hotel.

The person on the other end, though a bit surprised by his request, patiently replied in line with the hotel’s customer-first philosophy. They assured him the ingredients would be delivered in ten minutes and asked which building he was in.

The person on the other end quickly ran through the hotel’s map in their mind, only to realize that the address corresponded to the private villa reserved for their boss.

As a result, what Ke Mingxuan originally ordered—a piece of beef and half a pound of vegetables—was soon replaced with an assortment of chicken, duck, fish, and a large basket of various condiments like oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar. The staff assured him that they would promptly accommodate any further needs.

Ke Mingxuan, twitching at the corner of his mouth, sifted through the beef, vegetables, ginger, and green onions that he’d actually requested. He then looked at the delivery guy and said, “What I need is for your chef to prepare all of this into something I can eat right away and then bring it back to me.”

After closing the door and returning to the kitchen, Ke Mingxuan quickly opened WeChat to follow Chu Yi’s step-by-step video tutorial. However, Chu Yi’s first comment upon seeing the beef was, “Oh, I forgot to mention, you need minced beef for the congee.”

Ke Mingxuan, in a fit of rage, grabbed the kitchen knife and waved it in front of the camera. “Chu Yi, you’d better not try any more tricks.”

“Ahem,” Chu Yi wisely decided to wrap things up, likely worried that provoking Ke Mingxuan any further might result in a bloody scene. “If you don’t have minced beef, shredded beef will work. Just try to cut it as finely as possible.”

Ten minutes later, Chu Yi stared at the “shreds” Ke Mingxuan had cut, at a loss for words, unable to find an appropriate description.

Ke Mingxuan asked, “What now?”

Chu Yi: “…Slice the ginger into strips, mix it in, and marinate it with some salt and pepper.”

Ke Mingxuan: “You didn’t mention pepper earlier.”

Chu Yi: “So?”

Ke Mingxuan: “So, I don’t have any.”

Chu Yi: “…”

A strange silence.

Ke Mingxuan: “Is it a problem if I don’t have it?”

“Well, it’s not that it’s impossible. Go ahead and start cooking the porridge. The ratio of rice to water is about 1:5. If you want it a bit lighter, add more water. Once it boils on high heat, lower it and let it simmer for about an hour…”

“An hour? That’s so long?”

“Slow simmer on low heat, do you understand? While it’s cooking, you have to stir it constantly, or it’ll stick to the pot and burn.”

“Is it really that complicated?”

Chu Yi got angry: “If it’s too troublesome, just order takeout!”

Ke Mingxuan immediately deflated and obediently started washing the rice and cooking the porridge.

Although a triumphant smile appeared on his face, Chu Yi couldn’t help but feel a mix of astonishment and admiration. Watching Ke Mingxuan rush around through the screen, chopping vegetables and managing the stove at the same time, was both impressive and amusing. For someone so accustomed to having others cater to him, seeing him put in so much effort to cook porridge was truly a sight to behold. Bian Yiqiu must really be something special to make him do this.