Even though Chu Lai had taken his relationship with Cen Wei a step further, he didn’t seem like someone who was getting married next week. On top of that, he was swamped with the biggest project of the year at work.

He was so busy that the entire team was working overtime. While having a late-night snack, one of the interns asked, “Group Leader, aren’t you getting married? Have you applied for your wedding leave?”

A colleague nearby chimed in, “I’m so jealous. I might never get to apply for wedding leave in this lifetime.”

Chu Lai was eating rice noodle rolls, sneaking a look at his shopping app to buy new clothes for his dog, and casually responded, “Don’t be so pessimistic.”

Chu Lai was the only married person on the team, and his colleagues who joined the company around the same time were quite envious. They still remembered the stir caused by the stretch limo that picked him up once. Someone curiously asked, “So what does your partner do? Are they really a rich second generation? Wow, I still have a vivid memory of that luxury car.”

Chu Lai wasn’t the type to flaunt his life, and he was relieved that he hadn’t shown his face on any live streams yet. Even if Cen Wei’s identity was exposed, people wouldn’t be able to trace it back to him, which was good because having his coworkers know would be too terrifying.

Chu Lai simply said, “Just an ordinary rich second generation.”

His colleagues immediately burst into teasing noises, thinking he was being a bit “Versailles”—humble bragging about his wealth.

“But with all these projects, Group Leader, aren’t you really not taking time off? Marriage is such an important thing!”

“Exactly, even though I really want you to stay and help, it’s so sad that you’re still… even though you’re about to get married.”

“Oh, and don’t invite me to your wedding. I really don’t want to fork out a red envelope.”

Chu Lai wasn’t planning on inviting them anyway. His team had quite a few people who found weddings a hassle. They saw each other every day at work, which was already enough. They hardly had social gatherings outside of work, and weddings were strictly traditional affairs that he wouldn’t invite them to either.

He’d heard that other teams were the same. In the end, he only handed out wedding candies.

Recently the weather has turned bitterly cold. Chu Lai didn’t leave early in the morning, but he returned late every night. Cen Wei wasn’t much different; he had a new project launching in January, coinciding with their wedding.

The wedding preparations were all handled by the Cen Wei family, including arrangements with business partners. Cen Wei was shuttling between the company, factories, and stores. His employees could only catch glimpses of his hurried figure.

Shen Yangxu had completely given up on meeting Cen Wei’s partner in private, realizing that people like this had sustainable businesses for a reason. At this rate, he’d probably still be wealthy a hundred years from now.

It was already past 10pm when Shen Yangxu followed Cen Wei on a factory inspection, and they were sitting in the car on the way back together.

Shen Yangxu got a call from his child, and the little girl’s sweet voice calling “Daddy” was so soft that it made the usually rough-voiced deputy CEO’s tone turn incredibly doting. Hearing it gave Cen Wei goosebumps.

He glanced at his pinned messages. Five minutes ago, Chu Lai had sent him a message: Just got off work.

Chu Lai was probably still on his way home.

Chu Lai was so lazy that he hadn’t even bothered to get a driver’s license. He always said he preferred public transportation, but really, he just found it troublesome. Even if Cen Wei wanted to gift him a car, Chu Lai wouldn’t be able to drive it.

At this point, it was too late for him to pick Chu Lai up, so he sent a message: Rest early. Then, feeling it was too formal, he added: Have you eaten? What did you have?

The other side responded immediately: Not there yet. Just had some rice noodle rolls earlier. [Picture] What about you?

Cen Wei hadn’t taken a picture, and now he regretted it a little.

A second later, Chu Lai sent another message: I really want to eat this. [Picture] It was a shop on a popular review app, known for its satay beef.

Just imagining Chu Lai right now, Cen Wei could picture him standing by the metro door, head down, looking at his phone.

The subways in S City were always crowded, and rush hour could last until well after 10 p.m. Cen Wei rarely took the subway, but ever since he met Chu Lai, he’d occasionally ride it with him for a stop.

Chu Lai was quite experienced with it, always choosing to stand near the door, where he could secure a spot by the seats, creating a stable corner where he could remain still and play his games.

In the early stages of their contractual marriage, they felt like two partners sharing responsibilities. Even now, Cen Wei sometimes wondered if the first weekend after they signed the contract, Chu Lai invited him out to dinner just for the half-order of mung bean cakes that came with the couple’s meal.

Chu Lai was someone who could live perfectly fine on his own. When he did go out, he’d go all out, like engaging in some kind of revenge shopping spree.

[Cen Wei]: The place is open until 2am. If you’re still hungry when I get back, we can go together.

Chu Lai, leaning against the subway door, took a long time to type before replying: Okay.

It was cold outside, but the subway’s heating was on full blast. After working two intense days, Chu Lai felt so tired that the text on his phone screen seemed to blur and make him a little nauseous.

He touched his forehead, wondering, Am I getting a fever? But he couldn’t really tell and just huddled up, waiting for his stop to rush out.

Perhaps Cen Wei had smiled too softly at his phone because after finishing his call, Shen Yangxu glanced at him and asked, “Aren’t you taking wedding leave?”

“If I remember correctly, our company’s wedding leave is three days, right?”

Then he muttered to himself, “So damn short. When I got married, I only had five days for the honeymoon, and even those were unpaid!”

Cen Wei corrected him, “Didn’t you take a week off? Plus a weekend.”

At this, Shen felt a wave of pain in his stomach. “No regular employee works as hard as I do! I’m really suffering!”

Cen Wei was still looking at the satay beef Chu Lai had sent and thinking about when they could go eat there. “You’re in upper management. Your salary is different too.”

Shen twitched his lips at that, recalling how Cen Wei was getting married on Saturday but was still fighting on the front lines on Wednesday. He asked, “And what about Mr. Chu? Doesn’t his company offer wedding leave?”

Cen Wei replied, “It’s the end of the year, and he’s busy with overtime too.”

He thought back to Chu Lai’s complaints on WeChat, realizing he really liked this kind of aimless chat that didn’t require immediate responses. It was such a stress reliever, just saying whatever came to mind.

Chu Lai basically treated him as a sharing account, even sending him links to save his own data. Once, Cen Wei opened a link to a new manga release that Chu Lai had saved, which earned him a puzzled look from his secretary.

It was as if it was hard to imagine that the boss of a top-tier company would be buying shonen manga volumes.

Shen Yangxu asked, “Are you guys both workaholics?”

He recalled the time he saw Chu Lai at the company. His impression of him was that he still looked like a college student, which kind of fit the “forbidden romance” vibe people joked about behind Cen Wei’s back.

It was surprising at first that President Cen liked someone like that. At first glance, they didn’t seem to match, but after a while, they somehow fit together perfectly.

Shen Yangxu had also met Shen Ke once and thought that someone as fashionable as her paired with Cen Wei was blinding.

But after meeting Chu Lai, he realized that no matter how impressive someone like Cen Wei might be, life still came down to the everyday stuff like food and shelter. Now Cen Wei was constantly asking employees for restaurant recommendations, probably to find good places to take his partner.

Cen Wei asked, “Am I really like that?”

Not yet in middle age but already sporting a happy-marriage gut, Shen Yangxu replied seriously, “Do you not have a realistic view of yourself?”

It was obvious to everyone that Cen Wei had been in a noticeably better mood lately. Even though there were rumors that he had forcibly taken control of someone’s partner, it didn’t dampen anyone’s excitement about his upcoming wedding.

Shen Yangxu continued, “The way you work, never even stopping to eat or go home, who could put up with that?”

Cen Wei thought of Chu Lai, who never minded whether he replied late or not at all. He wasn’t bothered whether Cen Wei came home earlier or later—it was all fine by him.

But if it were anyone else, the response of fine would seem too professional, like a work relationship. However, now that they were closer, it felt a little disappointing.

Feeling a bit frustrated, he turned to Shen Yangxu, who was already married and had kids, and asked, “Is your wife polite to you?”

Having known his wife since their school days, Shen Yangxu smiled fondly and said, “Of course I know her. Any politeness is just an act. She always finds ways to boss me around.”

He sighed, then added, “But that’s my duty.”

Cen Wei had never been in a proper relationship. This one was an accidental romance born from a contractual marriage. He realized that there wasn’t really a correct model or standard answer for this kind of relationship. He hummed in agreement, then glanced at his chat history with Chu Lai.

Shen Yangxu asked out of curiosity, “Weren’t you guys love at first sight? What’s wrong, has the passion worn off?”

With the tone of someone who’d been there, Shen Yangxu gave him a knowing look, raising his eyebrows and smiling, “But passion is always temporary. When it comes to living day-to-day…”

Cen Wei listened to Shen Yangxu’s chatter all the way home. By the time he got there, it was already past 11pm. Based on Chu Lai’s schedule, he shouldn’t have been asleep yet.

But when Cen Wei walked in, the place was completely dark.

Da Cai hadn’t come back with them to the apartment. Xuan Rongqing had left the puppy with them, saying that they could dress it up as a flower dog for the wedding.

Chu Lai had agreed to it too.

The night was silent, and when Cen Wei turned on the light, he saw Chu Lai collapsed on the carpet, his arm draped over his face as if he had fallen asleep.

Cen Wei called out, “Lai Lai.”

Chu Lai groggily replied, “Mmm.” His coat was tossed aside, and when Cen Wei pulled his arm away, he revealed a flushed face.

Cen Wei was startled. “Are you feeling unwell?”

He reached out to touch Chu Lai’s forehead. “You have a fever.”

“We should go to the hospital.”

Chu Lai had already felt dizzy on the way back. He knew this might happen but stubbornly shook his head with his eyes still closed, muttering, “I’m not going.”

The words were full of childish stubbornness. He even repeated himself, “I’m not going. I’ll just take some medicine, and I’ll be fine.”

After a few seconds, he added in a broken voice, “Cen Wei… Mr Cen, where’s the medicine box… in your house? I couldn’t find it.”

He had gone back to calling him “Mr Cen” and saying “your house” again.

Cen Wei picked up Chu Lai’s coat to help him put it on, but noticed how ridiculously thin it was. As he lifted it, a bunch of heat packs fell out.

Cen Wei: …

Since Cen Wei had just come back from outside, his hands were still a little cold. Chu Lai, finding comfort in the coolness on his feverish forehead, grabbed Cen Wei’s hand and rubbed his face against it, mumbling, “You make me feel so comfortable…”

Cen Wei was speechless. Thinking about Chu Lai’s usual complaints, he wondered who really has the more ambiguous way of talking here?

The apartment was huge, and ever since Cen Wei’s status had been upgraded the two had been sleeping together. Hugging was a given, and they didn’t need to ask permission beforehand anymore.

But since they were both so busy, Chu Lai would often collapse on the carpet after coming back from work, and when Cen Wei walked in, the hallway sensor lights would briefly illuminate the sight of his boyfriend sprawled out on the carpet.

Just seeing Chu Lai like that made Cen Wei feel at ease. But today, he didn’t have the chance to lie down beside him and cuddle as usual.

Chu Lai had clearly burned out from the fever, unable to distinguish between people. Even when Cen Wei carried him to the car, he was still calling out for “Daddy” and wouldn’t let go of Cen Wei’s hand.

When they arrived at the hospital, a nurse glanced at the way the young man clung to Cen Wei, then back at Cen Wei’s face. She didn’t think this man was old enough to have a son this big.

Cen Wei, feeling a bit awkward, finally explained when Chu Lai called out “Daddy” again, “I’m his boyfriend.”

Chu Lai leaned on his shoulder, asking for a hug, and then corrected him, “No, you’re Daddy.”

Cen Wei: …

The nurse gave them a knowing look, then muttered under her breath, “I get it.”

Cen Wei really didn’t want to know exactly what it was that she “got.”

It wasn’t very busy in the emergency room at this hour, though there were still some people coming and going. Cen Wei was very healthy himself and had almost forgotten the last time he got sick.

His phone was still buzzing with messages, but the offline world felt a bit dull.

Sitting to the side, Cen Wei watched the IV drip, then turned to Chu Lai’s hand. His pale skin was dotted with a small blood clot where the needle was inserted. The slight swelling made it even more obvious.

Chu Lai was clearly overworked. The drop in temperature didn’t help, and his habit of not wearing thick enough clothing had finally caught up with him.

The IV made his hand even colder, and Cen Wei noticed that the person next to them was using a heat pack. Remembering that Chu Lai had stuffed a few into his pocket that morning, he opened one and gently placed it on his hand.

He bent over, his movements extra careful. Chu Lai leaned on his shoulder, even frowning in his sleep, as if he was worrying about something.

Cen Wei couldn’t help but wonder: What did he do before? Would he just take some medicine by himself?

His fingers brushed aside Chu Lai’s bangs, revealing the exhaustion on the young man’s face. Chu Lai had always led a very stable life: work, home, meals, and sleep. Now he was getting married, and Cen Wei had fallen into sync with his rhythm. They didn’t even have to wait for the weekend to go out to eat. If one of them felt like it, they’d just go.

Cen Wei knew about Chu Lai’s side hobby of live streaming, and he was also familiar with the neatly numbered books on his shelf. Yet, he had never really asked if Chu Lai truly liked his job.

In fact, it was Chu Lai’s father who brought up the topic once when they were playing chess. He mentioned that Chu Lai’s major in college had been assigned through the system, and he didn’t really have a choice. At the time, he just wanted to attend a local university. As long as he could get into a school, it was fine.

As for his job, Chu Lai didn’t have any grand ambitions. The workload at big companies wasn’t light, but at least he only had to worry about himself. Occasionally, he’d learn something new and improve himself.

Cen Wei had overheard Chu Lai’s work calls before. The jargon was quite complex, and once Cen Wei even asked him what “granularity” meant.

The team leader had hung up the phone and sighed, dragging out his complaint: Work is so annoying.

Cen Wei had laughed and asked if he wanted to eat some grilled green peppers. He had bought some online that day, and they might be pretty spicy.

Chu Lai rarely talked about work, and when he did, he only mentioned that he hoped to save up enough money to retire early.

On the other hand, Chu Lai had asked him once if he really enjoyed his work.

At that time, Cen Wei hadn’t answered quickly enough, and the topic had shifted to, these peppers are so spicy, I need to drink some ice-cold soda.

That same day, during one of Chu Lai’s streams, he pointed out a bug in the game Paper Umbrella Town. The game developers even tagged his account on social media to thank him for the feedback.

During a work break, Cen Wei had scrolled through the comments. Many people were curious about Chu Lai’s day job, thinking that his understanding of the game was on a different level. His knowledge was leagues ahead of other game reviewers, especially when it came to providing professional insights on elements like wood carvings in the game.

Some streamers either came across as too aloof or played dumb for laughs, which was entertaining for a while, but it could get annoying over time.

Chu Lai’s replays, on the other hand, made viewers feel immersed in the game along with him. It fit the kind of comments that floated by, like: Watching this streamer is so relaxing.

The other day, Jiang Liyong had given Cen Wei some psychological counseling and asked him a question before they parted ways: What do you like about Mr. Chu?

Nowadays, it wasn’t about love above all else. Everyone prioritized their own interests.

Marriage, for someone in Cen Wei’s circle, was more like a partnership—a business deal ensuring mutual benefits and minimizing risks. Most of the older generation’s marriages were about protection, reducing risks.

At the company’s annual party, employees would often complain about their parents pushing them to get married. Cen Wei usually only made an appearance at the start, and even if he overheard something like that, it didn’t feel relevant to him.

When he was a teenager, he’d refuted his grandmother’s saying: Who knows what the future will hold?

His future was the expansion of Lotus Umbrella and taking the family business to new heights. As for his personal life beyond work, it didn’t matter whether he stayed where he was.

The elders were wise in their own way, knowing that fate could be unpredictable. Emotions, no matter how strong, weren’t guaranteed to last forever—they were filled with uncertainties.

It wasn’t until Cen Wei met Chu Lai that he realized he’d been holding on too tightly. To Cen Wei, Chu Lai was like a Friday night—the end of the workweek, a chance to relax completely.

Friday wasn’t like Saturday night, which carried the dread of the final rest day looming ahead.

Friday meant you still had two full days of relaxation, time to throw away all your worries, sink into the couch, sip on a hot drink, watch some meaningless ads, or play a game without worrying about winning or losing.

Cen Wei glanced at Chu Lai’s hand. They had already chosen their wedding rings, and the sizes had long been measured.

But when they got measured, their feelings hadn’t yet been fully revealed. Compared to most people’s marriages, they had skipped the proposal, and now that their relationship was official, Cen Wei felt a little regretful.

Their progress was anything but normal. It was like they had picked a random chapter in the middle of a book to start from, then used the ending as the middle. They only started falling in love after getting their marriage certificate.

Now, sitting in the hospital’s late-night infusion hall, Cen Wei glanced up at the ceiling and listened to the faint sounds of ambulances outside. The person resting against his shoulder was breathing shallowly, like a dandelion that might scatter if he wasn’t careful.

He thought to himself: Chu Lai is still too soft-hearted. I haven’t been good enough to him.

The nurse passed by the couple, still remembering the earlier “Daddy” incident. Despite the background noise, she couldn’t help but notice the way the man was looking at the patient—so tender that it surprised her.

You could tell a lot about a relationship just by observing. The “Daddy” thing? Probably just a playful nickname.

Chu Lai had no idea how long he had slept. When he woke up, he found himself in the hospital’s infusion hall.

Across from him was a couple, with the guy playing a game on his phone. A few seats over, there was a man in his fifties sitting alone.

He looked over at Cen Wei, who was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. The moment Chu Lai stirred, Cen Wei opened his eyes.

First, he checked the IV, seeing there was still half left. He let out a sigh of relief as the person leaning against him sat up a little and spoke with a slightly hoarse voice, “Did I sleep for a long time?”

Cen Wei opened a thermos and handed it to him. “You’ve slept through two IV bags.”

Chu Lai replied, “That long? You even brought a thermos?”

Cen Wei responded, “I was worried you’d be thirsty.”

He was always so considerate, even bringing an extra jacket to cover Chu Lai. The latter lowered his head, still finding it difficult to fully open his eyes.

“How do you feel?” Cen Wei asked.

“Much better,” Chu Lai replied. “It feels like it’s been ages since you brought me here.”

Cen Wei, thinking back to the nurse’s earlier expression, sighed innocently. “Did you forget?”

“Forget what?”

Cen Wei sighed again. “Never mind.”

He reached out to feel Chu Lai’s forehead. “Get some more sleep. Your eyelids are drooping.”

Chu Lai gave a soft response, “Can I lean on you?”

“You’ve been leaning on me this whole time. Why are you even asking?” Cen Wei replied.

“You’re so mean,” Chu Lai muttered.

Cen Wei: …

There was no arguing with him.

Chu Lai, still groggy, felt the familiar scent of the hospital in the air. But leaning against Cen Wei, his comforting smell blocked out part of the unpleasantness, enough for Chu Lai to unconsciously nuzzle closer. Cen Wei wrapped his arm around him but was mindful of the IV in Chu Lai’s hand.

Later, Chu Lai didn’t even remember when the needle was removed. When he woke up again, he found himself draped over Cen Wei’s back.

It was late in the night, and the parking garage still had cars coming and going. Chu Lai let out a sleepy mumble, “Are we home?”

Cen Wei replied, “Awake?”

Chu Lai shook his head, his hair brushing against Cen Wei’s cheek. “No.”

Cen Wei was still carrying him, fingers hooked around the bag of medication. Chu Lai asked, “What time is it?”

“It’s past three…”

Chu Lai made a soft noise, hugging Cen Wei’s neck. Cen Wei carried him steadily, eyes fixed on the elevator’s floor numbers as he said, “Why is the elevator so slow today?”

It had been stuck on the 30-something floor for a while now, and he didn’t know what was going on.

Chu Lai’s voice came out as a lazy drawl, filled with exhaustion. “Can’t carry me anymore?”

Cen Wei shifted him upward a bit. “Of course, I can.”

“You’re wearing too little. Don’t rely on the company’s heating and wear so little outside,” Cen Wei scolded.

“I hate winter,” Chu Lai complained.

“Isn’t catching a cold miserable?”

“It is.”

After a moment of quiet, Chu Lai mumbled, “Aren’t you being too nice to me?”

At that moment, someone parked their car and started walking toward them. Upon hearing a familiar voice, they paused, deciding not to come closer.

Cen Wei felt like laughing. “You call this ‘nice’? Besides, what’s our relationship now?”

He thought, Just how poorly did Shen Quan treat him?

Chu Lai feigned ignorance. “Aren’t we in a contractual marriage?”

He wrapped his arms around Cen Wei’s neck, listing the terms as if he were reciting them. “No interference, no disturbance, and if we need anything, we can ask directly.”

Cen Wei hadn’t expected him to bring up their old agreement and asked, “When did you ever call for me and I didn’t obey?”

The elevator finally began descending. Chu Lai nodded, “Okay, fine. Thanks, Mr. Cen Wei, for taking me to the hospital.”

The way he said “Mr. Cen Wei” now had a completely different tone from when they first met. It might’ve been because of the stuffy nose or the way his voice dragged when it carried affection—it sounded more like a pet name.

“You didn’t even want to go,” Cen Wei pointed out.

Chu Lai’s voice was cut off as the elevator doors closed. “I was so dizzy from the fever. I didn’t want to bother you…”

Now there were only the two of them inside. Cen Wei asked, “Still a bother?”

“Not anymore.”

But Cen Wei didn’t agree with him. “It’s a bother.”

“Are you overworked lately? Didn’t you apply for wedding leave?”

“Three days—Thursday, Friday, and next Monday.”

Most people would take leave starting from Tuesday, so Chu Lai’s choice of days was quite unusual. Cen Wei asked, “A lot of meetings on Monday?”

The person on his back nodded, “Annoying. If it’s with my direct supervisor, I can’t even slack off.”

As the meeting organizer, Cen Wei nodded knowingly. “I guess I’ll have to crack down on meeting discipline.”

Chu Lai yawned, resting his head on Cen Wei’s shoulder. “As long as you don’t crack down on me. Don’t sleep with me tonight either. If you catch my cold, we’re doomed.”

When they returned to the apartment from the Cen Wei family’s place, Chu Lai changed into fresh clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Cen Wei handed him a cup of hot water. “Take the morning off tomorrow too. We’ll hand over everything in the afternoon. You’re burning up way too much.”

Chu Lai made a soft sound of agreement. Seeing Cen Wei about to leave, he reached out, then hesitated, pulling his hand back. However, it seemed that Cen Wei had eyes on the back of his head. He turned around and asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Cen Wei leaned down closer to him. “You won’t pass it on. I’m very healthy.”

The lights were still on, and Chu Lai squinted, feeling that the person in front of him looked like a character from a video game, one who would drain his wallet and affection points.

“I don’t have money,” Chu Lai mumbled, turning over.

Cen Wei didn’t understand right away, but then Chu Lai took the cup and mumbled, “It’s nothing.”

After a couple of seconds, Cen Wei chuckled. “I don’t need you to spend money.”

Chu Lai didn’t respond. The discomfort from being sick made him crave company even more. He turned over again, unable to resist turning back, not realizing that his eyes were full of longing.

He was bad at asking for things, especially now that their feelings were no longer just a business transaction. But it didn’t matter—Cen Wei could read him like an open book.

“I can deliver to your door,” Cen Wei said, his tone light.

As soon as he finished speaking, the sCen Weit of minty aftershave filled the air. Someone slid into the bed, wrapped an arm around Chu Lai, and planted soft kisses on his brow and the corners of his eyes, gradually making their way toward his lips.

Chu Lai muttered, “No kissing.”

He barely had the strength to open his eyes, his voice slurred, but he still draped his leg over Cen Wei’s. “If you catch my cold, we’re really doomed. Your mom will say something.”

Sometimes Cen Wei could be gentle, and other times he could be domineering—like right now. He could easily kiss his way to Chu Lai’s lips.

He knew someone needed comfort, needed hugs, needed a warm hand to rub their back gently.

Someone needed to fill the void left by the longing that came with being sick.

He would be Chu Lai’s future, holding his hand tight, letting their breaths mingle as he expressed his love with his body.

Chu Lai’s chest rose and fell with his breathing as he lay there, his pajama top already undone down to his stomach. His pale skin was dusted with a faint blush. He looked like a silver fish washed ashore by the waves, glimmering in the moonlight.

“What are you doing…?” Chu Lai whispered.

The last syllable of his question was drawn out, and though he was clearly trying to glare at Cen Wei, his expression had the opposite effect, becoming a form of torment for someone experiencing this for the first time.

“I want to…” Cen Wei began.

Before he could finish, Chu Lai kicked him. “You can’t want it.”

Unfortunately, Chu Lai’s kick lacked any strength, and instead, it just confirmed what Cen Wei had been thinking.

Chu Lai pulled the blanket over his head. “Not right now.”

Cen Wei didn’t feel like a beast, but Chu Lai’s reaction made him seem like one. He stood up, planning to leave the bed, but then Chu Lai asked, “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom.”

After a pause, Cen Wei added, “Do I need to give a more detailed report?”

Chu Lai understood and muttered softly, “You can stay here. I’m going to sleep.”

Cen Wei couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s not appropriate.”

“We’ve already kissed, so there’s no fear of catching it. I’ll be back to sleep with you soon.”

Chu Lai let out a little breath, curling up under the blankets. The sausage dog pillow on the bed acted as a headrest, its little dog face seemingly mocking someone for being married yet still abstinent.

Even with his eyes closed, all Chu Lai could see was Cen Wei’s face. The lingering sensation of Cen Wei’s lips brushing against his still lingered, making him groggily think, If I weren’t sick, I would definitely…

He then thought, For someone of Cen Wei’s age, he’s still a virgin, so his skills must be terrible. Should I look up how to handle this situation online?

Definitely not asking Liu Yuan—he would be ridiculed to death.

His mind was racing with thoughts, and he didn’t know how long it had been when someone climbed into bed and pulled him into their arms, whispering, “Good night.”

Chu Lai rolled over, burrowing into Cen Wei’s embrace. “Are you all better?”

“I’m not, but I hope you get better soon,” Cen Wei murmured.

Chu Lai felt Cen Wei’s warmth, muttering, “You’re so hot.”

Cen Wei hummed in agreement. “Maybe you could check the temperature here?”

Chu Lai felt the strong, rapid thump of Cen Wei’s heart beneath his palm, the warmth of his skin making Chu Lai’s breath catch for a moment.

He stroked his legal partner’s well-toned body and whispered, “You’re too easily excited. You should take it easy.”

Cen Wei: I feel like I’m being mocked…