Chu Lai came out of the shower quickly and found that the dog was still circling around Cen Wei, who was sitting on the sofa, holding his phone.

Chu Lai, while blow-drying his hair, asked, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

The man on the sofa looked up. Chu Lai’s first impression of him was that he was a polished business elite. But now, with his bangs falling over his forehead and his relaxed posture, he looked far less rigid.

Cen Wei hesitated for a moment and asked, “Did you ask me to come back here just to sleep?”

Chu Lai yawned. Initially, Cen Wei thought Chu Lai was hard to approach, but now, that first impression had been completely shattered. He realized Chu Lai was actually quite bold.

Unable to resist, Cen Wei asked, “Aren’t you afraid I might be lying to you? You haven’t even asked about where I work or anything.”

Chu Lai waved the dog back to its bed as he walked over and sat beside Cen Wei. The sofa, where Cen Wei had slept last time, was of average quality—something Chu Lai had bought off a second-hand app.

“I’ve seen your WeChat Moments, you’re probably some big shot,” Chu Lai said.

He hadn’t really paid much attention to it before, but earlier, Liu Yuan had given him a brief rundown of Cen Wei’s background, mentioning how his family business could be found on Baidu Baike—a century-old company now in the middle of a transformation.

Chu Lai chuckled, his freshly-showered face glowing slightly pink. His hair, unevenly cut, had a few long strands that reached his shoulders.

Now that they were sitting close, Cen Wei noticed Chu Lai had his ears pierced. Maybe he wasn’t as mild and tame as he looked.

At a loss for words, Cen Wei asked, “It’s three-thirty in the morning. Aren’t you tired?”

Chu Lai shook his head. “Better to clear up the agreement first. I’m worried I’ll wake up tomorrow and regret it.”

Late night is, after all, the time when impulsive decisions are most likely to happen—whether it’s a one-night stand from the bar, emptying a shopping cart, or breaking up in a fit of clarity. Each can result in delayed regret, leaving you feeling like you’ve picked the wrong person, overspent, or missed the chance to punch a jerk in the face.

“If it’s about what you wrote in the notes, I already replied to you on WeChat,” Cen Wei said, licking his lips. “Mr Chu, could I have a glass of water? I’m a bit thirsty.”

Only then did Chu Lai realize he hadn’t even offered Cen Wei anything. But he felt too lazy and said, “The water dispenser is over there; help yourself.”

It was still raining outside. Chu Lai had moved apartments recently, but the vibe of the place was exactly as Cen Wei had imagined.

It didn’t seem like Chu Lai was someone who enjoyed tidying up, which didn’t quite match his refined appearance. The sofa was piled high with throw pillows, most of which were themed after popular anime or video game characters.

The shoe cabinet in the entryway was stuffed with GSC figurines, some paired in twos, others in several different variations, as if Chu Lai was trying to complete a collection. And that popular, white, lying-down polar bear plush toy by the door was already yellowing from oxidation, likely due to the dog playing with it.

While Chu Lai was in the shower, Cen Wei took a closer look at the one-bedroom apartment that was easily visible from one glance. The place had a very lived-in feel.

It was clear that Chu Lai didn’t see him as an outsider, nor did he care much about things like coats dropped on the floor or clothes hanging on the elliptical machine. There were dog toys scattered on the floor, the dryer door left ajar, and a strawberry-printed pillowcase that hadn’t been folded.

In short, Chu Lai seemed very much like a homebody—and one who was very comfortable with it.

Rather than feeling neglected, Cen Wei found himself liking this relaxed atmosphere. Standing in front of the kitchen counter, he looked at the array of cups in the cabinet and asked, “Which one should I use?”

“Whichever you like,” Chu Lai replied.

There was a coffee machine next to the water dispenser. “Do you like drinking coffee?” Cen Wei asked.

Chu Lai, who was looking at the messages Cen Wei had sent on WeChat, responded, “I like it if someone else makes it for me, but not when I have to make it myself.”

He added, “I won it at a company raffle. I thought I’d enjoy it, but after using it once, I just let it sit there.”

As he poured himself a glass of water, Cen Wei asked casually, “Then why not sell it?”

Chu Lai’s voice sounded lazy, already slouched on the sofa. “I like the color.”

Cen Wei glanced over—it was a soft pastel yellow.

Not many guys liked that color. Judging by Chu Lai’s usual gray-toned outfits, you wouldn’t think he had such a girly side. But upon closer inspection, the house gave it away. There were several cups with pastel yellow elements on the cup rack, a much livelier contrast to Chu Lai’s current lazy demeanor.

Carrying his water, Cen Wei returned to the sofa. Chu Lai glanced at the cup he had chosen and seemed surprised. “I thought you didn’t like dogs?”

Looking at the white porcelain cup with a smiling Shiba Inu printed on it, Cen Wei said, “It looks like Da Cai.”

Chu Lai chuckled. “It is Da Cai. I had it custom-made.”

As Cen Wei sat down, Chu Lai shifted a bit, still in a near-sprawl. The two of them were wearing matching pajamas, and their scents were starting to blend together.

Outside, the wind and rain were getting louder, making the atmosphere inside feel even cozier, as if they were a couple who had been living together for a long time.

Chu Lai fiddled with his phone and said, “I’m okay with everything you mentioned in your first three points, but the fourth one isn’t necessary.”

He closed his eyes, clearly tired, and covered his eyes with the back of his hand. “No one in my family is pressuring me to get married.”

“Do they need to know if you do get married?” Cen Wei asked.

The pajamas Chu Lai had bought were quite large. They fit Cen Wei just fine, but on Chu Lai, they were huge. His sleeves drooped past his elbows, revealing his pale arm, and the red mole on his right wrist still caught the light, standing out like a mark.

To Cen Wei, Chu Lai seemed to have a mix of maturity and youthfulness. His attitude was mature, but his body still retained a boyish appearance, like someone who could slip into a school uniform and return to high school.

With his eyes closed, Chu Lai said, “No need. I don’t have many relatives. My dad passed away years ago, and my mom remarried. We don’t really talk unless it’s something important.”

From the way Chu Lai said “my dad” and “my mom”, Cen Wei could already hear the emotional distance between them. He nodded but didn’t press further.

“I just moved to this apartment, so I don’t want to move again anytime soon,” Chu Lai said after a moment. “So, should we go get the marriage certificate on Monday? Do you want to make the appointment, or should I?”

“I’ll do it,” Cen Wei replied.

Chu Lai hummed in response, his voice drowsy. He was clearly on the brink of sleep.

“You should go to bed,” Cen Wei suggested.

Chu Lai muttered, “Let’s sleep together. You’re too big for the sofa; it’s kind of funny.”

Cen Wei was the type who looked naturally good—tall and model-like. Chu Lai’s sofa was only 1.6 meters long, and last time, he had to let Cen Wei’s legs hang off the armrest.

Back then, they weren’t as familiar with each other, but now, with their wedding planned for the day after tomorrow, it felt a bit awkward, even if there were no feelings involved.

But not for Cen Wei. Shaking his head, he asked, “Did you read the fifth point?”

Chu Lai sat up, his hair sticking up a bit. “I’m not in it for money, and it’s not something we can easily put into a contract. Let’s just take what we need from each other.”

Thinking about Cen Wei’s background, Chu Lai chuckled. “I never planned to make money off marriage. As long as you give me what I want, we’re good.”

Chu Lai’s carefree attitude, coupled with his lack of any crisis awareness, left Cen Wei feeling slightly worried for him. It made him think Chu Lai was easy to deceive.

Thinking back to how Chu Lai had spoken about his parents, Cen Wei felt as if a leaf had fallen onto a still pond, creating ripples that barely reached the shore.

“Alright,” Cen Wei said.

“Can we start now?” Chu Lai asked.

Surprised, Cen Wei asked, “You mean more hugs?”

Chu Lai’s voice sounded lazy and a bit annoyed. “I wrote ‘hugs on demand’—can’t you handle that?”

Half-asleep, his voice was soft and hazy.

For most people, that kind of statement might sting, but for Cen Wei, it wasn’t a big deal. He had heard worse before.

Both he and Chu Lai had ex-boyfriends. The issues in their past relationships were similar, largely due to a lack of desire.

Chu Lai still didn’t know that Cen Wei had never even gone all the way with his ex.

For others, Chu Lai’s request might have sounded like flirting, but in their current partnership—where they didn’t yet have a formal title—it came across as completely natural, like asking, “Are you still hungry?”

Seeing that Cen Wei hadn’t responded after a while, Chu Lai said, “Maybe you need to ease into it…”

Just as he stood up to go to bed, he was suddenly lifted into the air, and the shock woke him up a bit.

Although Chu Lai still had a youthful appearance, he was a man, not to mention tall. In all his time dating Shen Quanzhang, he had never been held like this before. The only time he’d seen this kind of hold was on TV. His heart raced—not out of romantic feelings, but pure surprise.

Cen Wei was strong, holding Chu Lai without even a slight wobble. Even through the pajamas, Chu Lai could feel the heat from the man’s hands supporting him.

“Does this count as a hug?” Cen Wei asked.

Chu Lai adapted quickly. “Next time, give me a heads-up.”

He leaned into Cen Wei a bit, the warmth of their bodies pressing together providing comfort in the cold night. For a moment, the feeling of being adrift since his father’s death subsided.

Chu Lai’s apartment wasn’t big, just a few steps to the bed. He didn’t hesitate to invite Cen Wei to sleep with him.

“Is this really okay?” Cen Wei asked.

Chu Lai rolled onto the bed. “We’re both guys.”

“That doesn’t make it the same,” Cen Wei replied.

Looking at him matter-of-factly, Chu Lai said, “We’re not attracted to each other, right?”

Cen Wei had no argument for that. Chu Lai, now irritated, called out to the smart AI to turn off the lights. “Do whatever you want. See you tomorrow.”

He turned over, leaving half of the bed free.

The bed was one of those provided with the apartment, just 1.5 meters wide. Not long after, Chu Lai felt someone join him.

Cen Wei was clearly not used to this arrangement, his body stiff with tension.

“I’m sorry,” Chu Lai sighed. “The way you’re acting makes me feel like I’m forcing you into marriage.”

He laughed. “But I don’t think I could beat you in a fight.”

His thoughts drifted quickly, and with the heater on in winter, the bed warmed up fast with the two of them in it.

Cen Wei chuckled, “Have you ever fought anyone?”

“I kind of regret not punching my ex,” Chu Lai said, sounding a bit disappointed.

Recalling that day, Cen Wei replied, “You didn’t seem very angry at the time.”

“I was talking about when he was moving his stuff out of my rented apartment,” Chu Lai clarified.

Curious, Cen Wei asked, “Were you two renting the place together?”

Chu Lai shook his head. “No, he graduated this year, and when he was job-hunting and after he found a job, he stayed with me. I didn’t charge him rent while he was looking.”

Shen Quanzhang was so ridiculous that Chu Lai couldn’t help but vent a little. “Even after he found a job, he was still stingy.”

Cen Wei didn’t remember much about Shen Quanzhang, just like how Chu Lai had barely any memory of Shen Ke. Still, he had a pretty bad impression of Shen Quanzhang.

“Is that why you wanted to hit him?” Cen Wei asked.

Chu Lai nodded, shifting slightly. But the bed was too small, and he ended up rolling right into Cen Wei’s arms.

Chu Lai had always craved physical intimacy, but the emotional deprivation he experienced growing up made it difficult for him to express himself properly with others. As a result, he often came off as cold.

His need for closeness was physical, but he was afraid of taking things further. Now, with a source of warmth so close, he quietly asked, “Can you hold me while I sleep?”

Even though they were getting married the day after tomorrow, Chu Lai felt this request was a bit much. The sense of unfamiliarity between them was still palpable, even if they were lying in the same bed.

But Cen Wei didn’t hesitate. He pulled Chu Lai into his arms and asked, “Was it like this when you were dating before?”

He thought back to what Chu Lai’s ex had said—boring, cold, and uninteresting.

Now, holding this slender body in his arms, hearing the tired and cautious voice of the man who was almost too thin to resist hugging, he couldn’t reconcile this with the idea of Chu Lai being boring or cold. If this wasn’t part of their current relationship, Cen Wei could easily imagine Chu Lai being quite clingy in a romantic relationship.

Even though Cen Wei was four years older, both of them had only been in one relationship.

With Shen Ke, Cen Wei had never gone all the way. They had only officially been together for half a year before breaking up, and most of that time was long-distance. In reality, they had probably spent less than a week together.

Their time together hadn’t exactly been pleasant either. Cen Wei knew he shared some of the blame and didn’t hold any grudges when people mocked him for his ex ending up with his childhood friend.

His childhood friend had even written him an apology email, promising to promote one of Cen Wei’s new sub-brands at a fashion show.

“Before?” Chu Lai laughed softly, sounding a little helpless. “We used to hug when we were still in school, but later… he got impatient. If we hugged for too long, it quickly turned into something else.”

He paused. “It wasn’t fun.”

As Chu Lai spoke, he turned over and seemed to be reflecting on the past. The dim glow of the nightlight was enough for Cen Wei to see the frown on Chu Lai’s face.

“It’s strange,” Chu Lai said, his voice soft, barely above a whisper. “Even when I slept with him, I never felt fulfilled.”

Unaware that his eyelashes were trembling, Chu Lai looked fragile, like a flickering candle in the wind.

“But it’s weird,” Chu Lai continued after a pause, “because your hug makes me feel full and content.”

“Thank you.”