He had assumed that whatever Yong Jin wanted to put on him in the spur of the moment would be for his hand, but to his surprise, it was something tied around his ankle. A russet-colored braided cord, with a cool, jade-green bead dangling from it. As it swayed against his ankle, he glanced at the design and, for a brief moment, it felt like a large snake had shrunk into a smaller one, winding its way around his leg.

It was clearly the same style as a whip, though meant for a different purpose. Once his wooden sandal was slipped back onto his foot, Zhou Jun wisely withdrew his leg from Yong Jin’s lap. Yong Jin liked cleanliness, and Zhou Jun didn’t want the dirt from the sandal to smudge his suit pants, lest he end up with his face pinched again. After all, this man had a temper—best not to provoke him.

Zhou Jun shifted back into his seat, and the two of them suddenly became more proper, a noticeable distance forming between them. It was hard to tell that just moments ago, one had been sitting on the other, their gazes tangled together like hooks. Even Deputy Chen, who was driving up front, noticed through the rearview mirror how heated the atmosphere in the car had been.

The vehicle swayed and finally stopped at the entrance of the pear garden. The sky hadn’t cleared yet, and Deputy Chen opened an umbrella as he approached Yong Jin. Zhou Jun had intended to grab one for himself, but to his surprise, Yong Jin held onto the umbrella and waved him over instead. Feeling uneasy, Zhou Jun hesitated, but Yong Jin called out, “Mr. Zhou, come here.”

With no other choice, Zhou Jun had to take refuge under Yong Jin’s umbrella, which brought along a fair bit of dampness from the rain. Yong Jin didn’t make any suggestive moves toward him; maintaining a reasonable distance, he merely tilted the umbrella slightly in Zhou Jun’s direction.

Surprisingly, there weren’t many people at the theater. They entered the official box, and the show hadn’t started yet. Just as Zhou Jun settled into his seat, a server approached, whispering to Deputy Chen.

Deputy Chen promptly relayed the information, and Yong Jin, looking composed, simply nodded before rising to step out of the official box. Zhou Jun remained in his seat, sipping tea while a spread of fruits covered the table. The teacups, made of blue-and-white porcelain, were small and delicate in his hands—he had always loved such beautiful things. After placing the cup down, he felt a slight discomfort in his lower abdomen from drinking too much tea.

He got up to leave the private room but was stopped by Deputy Chen. Zhou Jun, in a good mood, explained his urgent need to go, but Deputy Chen summoned a waiter and instructed him to lead the way. Zhou Jun felt displeased but didn’t show it on his face. After he was done, he insisted that the waiter didn’t need to follow him; he was a guest, not a prisoner.

Who would have thought that on his way back from the restroom, he would get lost? It felt almost fated when he ended up standing in front of the room of Mu Liqing, a renowned performer in the pear garden. Known for his exceptional talent and stunning beauty, Mu Liqing had captivated countless admirers. His fame had even reached the newspapers, and Zhou Jun, well aware of such a prominent figure, understood that a celebrated performer often had powerful patrons behind him.

Zhou Jun did not expect that one of the patrons was actually Yong Jin. The intricately carved wooden window was beautifully decorated. Perhaps due to his fame and favorable treatment, the rest area was also elegant. Beside the room, a pear blossom tree was planted, its white petals scattered all over the ground. Inside the window, Su San, who sang “Yutang Chun,” had not yet put on her makeup; her long hair flowed over her chest like silk.

Mu Liqing held a folding fan that partly covered his face. He wore a red robe that was slightly folded, showing his soft, very white hands with slender, rosy fingers. He was singing a part, his voice was beautiful and charming. Even from a distance in the hallway, Zhou Jun felt his ears tingle from his lovely voice.

Wanting to watch the show, Zhou Jun confidently wiped the redwood handrail, lifted his robe and sat down. However, his wooden clogs slipped off and clattered to the floor like a drumbeat for Su San, startling those inside and breaking their intimate gazes.

Feeling embarrassed, Zhou Jun lifted the hem of his robe and held it up as he glanced into the room. He noticed Young General Yong standing by the window, looking directly at him.

He wondered whether to run away or not. But he hadn’t done anything wrong, why should he run? So, from behind the pear blossoms, he smiled at the couple and dropped down on one leg to look for his shoe. Stepping on the fallen pear blossoms, he planned to leave. The show was over, and it was time to go. Yong Jin came to see Mu Liqing so what’s the point of bringing him along?

Did he want to stir up jealousy? What a big face!

Zhou Jun forgot he was already lost and, after wandering around, ended up back at the official box. Yong Jin was already sitting at the table, holding an open pocket watch that was ticking away. Next to him were the peanut shells Zhou Jun had peeled, and beside that was a hairpin. For some reason, Zhou Jun’s steps came to a halt.

When the deputy officer saw him, he quickly stepped forward to invite him to take a seat. Zhou Jun walked at a leisurely pace, his steps dragging, as if he were reluctant to move forward for countless reasons. As he got closer, Yong Jin raised his hand, palm up, and took hold of Zhou Jun’s right hand.

His steps became light again, perhaps because he was being pulled along, tapping rapidly on the ground with a thud, thud, thud, like the sound of the show beginning. He sat back down, though it wasn’t really his seat. He was tightly pressed against Yong Jin, their sleeves touching and shoulders leaning together. The drums and gongs on stage grew increasingly intense, waiting for the official to announce the start.

Zhou Jun originally sat up straight, but in this theater, the chairs offered no support, so he ended up leaning more and more. By the time Su San, dressed in a red outfit and adorned with sparkling jewelry made her entrance, Zhou Jun was half leaning on the table, with his legs crossed and propped up on the table as he cracked seeds.

At this moment, he was far removed from the cold elegance of Mu Liqing, cracking the seeds with a loud clack. His gaze occasionally fell on Su San and then turned back to Yong Jin. It seemed like he had countless thoughts swirling in his mind, but he could only voice them to himself.

Perhaps it was his blunt stare that annoyed the major, as he was suddenly grabbed by the chin and pulled from the table into Yong Jin’s embrace. Su San was on stage, singing her tragic tale with deep sorrow, lamenting her grievances. Zhou Jun’s lower lip was still stuck with a piece of seed skin as he fell into Yong Jin’s arms.

The thin shell stuck to Zhou Jun’s lower lip, and after staring at him for a while, Yong Jin used his thumb to wipe away the seed shell. Zhou Jun’s lip was pressed and slightly pale, but still looked good. However, Yong Jin seemed to find it unappealing and said, “Dirty.”

Zhou Jun’s face turned red immediately—red with embarrassment and anger. His eyebrows, eyes, and cheeks looked like they were painted, with the gray-blue beads warming up to a cute color, like a chocolate wrapped in blue paper. He puffed up with anger and quickly escaped from Yong Jin’s embrace, downing a bowl of tea in one go. Frowning, he said, “The food here isn’t good, but the milk-flavored sunflower seeds are pretty nice.

On stage, Su San sang “Yutang Chun,” her gaze piercing through the audience. With a pair of eyes and hands swaying, it was clear she was looking in that direction. Unfortunately, while the beauty had intentions, the man was indifferent; both gentlemen were rather heartless. Mu Liqing saw one of them turn his head, but failed to catch what he said. Yong Jin then leaned forward, close enough that it seemed like they were about to kiss.

Mu Liqing felt unsettled, nearly singing the wrong lines. He forced himself not to look in that direction, steadying his tone and continuing to perform the play without falter.

Did they kiss? No, they didn’t. They were just close enough that anyone with a keen eye would think so. Yong Jin simply held a piece of white pastry and fed it to him. Their positions were a bit closer, creating a more ambiguous atmosphere. The pastry crumbs fell on Zhou Jun’s lips, and the treat melted, leaving a sweet taste in his mouth. He licked the crumbs away, his eyelashes fluttering down.

His long, lovely eyelashes trembled as they softly covered his eyes. Then Yong Jin leaned in closer, as if teasing him, and blew gently on his eyelids. Zhou Jun’s delicate eyelashes shook even more, and he closed his eyes, then opened them again, as if just realizing how close they were. Looking into Yong Jin’s eyes, their lips were only separated by a piece of pastry, just a small move away from each other.

But then Yong Jin slowly pulled back, the warmth of his breath unwinding from Zhou Jun’s body. Zhou Jun felt a void in his heart, his mind spinning, and he almost embarassedly chased after him.

As if he hadn’t noticed Zhou Jun’s awkwardness, Yong Jin pulled out a clean handkerchief from somewhere and wiped Zhou Jun’s mouth. With a smile, he said, “You should carry more handkerchiefs when you go out to wipe your mouth.” Zhou Jun allowed him to clean it up and then replied, “It’s clearly your fault for not feeding me properly; you need to practice more.”