If Yú Chén had the ability to read minds and could hear Fù Yánxī’s inner thoughts, he would definitely say: What’s the use of meeting the Third Prince alone so often? The Third Prince has never called him “brother.”

—What a “brother,” it sounds much more intimate than “Teacher Yú.”

So when Yú Chén arrived at Yún Xúnlán’s bedroom and saw the silver-haired alpha sitting at the table, a gentle smile blossomed in his eyes the moment he entered. He softly called out Yú Chén’s name, but Yú Chén didn’t respond with the youth’s name. Instead, he deliberately called out, “Third Prince.”

He thought: Will Yún Xúnlán continue to call me “Teacher Yú” after this?

“Teacher Yú?”

As expected, the prince fell into the trap. He slightly raised his eyebrows, but the title he used was one word longer than Yú Chén had anticipated. The silver-haired alpha then asked him, “Why are you calling me ‘Prince’ again?”

Yú Chén was pleased to hear Yún Xúnlán refer to him as “teacher,” but it didn’t seem to fill the void in his heart. Or perhaps he was just greedy—wanting to hear something more intimate than just names and titles from Yún Xúnlán.

Something better than “brother.”

However, Yú Chén couldn’t directly voice these thoughts. He looked at the silver-haired alpha, gazing into those golden eyes, and instead of answering the youth’s question, he countered, “Besides ‘Prince’ and ‘Yún Xúnlán,’ can I use other titles to address you?”

Yún Xúnlán was willing to indulge Yú Chén in everything, and a mere title was no big deal. Whatever Yú Chén wanted to call him, Yún Xúnlán would surely comply: “Sure, what do you want to call me?”

Yú Chén replied, “I haven’t thought of anything yet.”

“Then take your time,” Yún Xúnlán said, not too concerned, his lips curving into a slight smile. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Yú Chén averted his gaze from Yún Xúnlán’s, lowering his eyelashes to look at the textbook on “War Psychology” on the table, awkwardly changing the subject: “Let’s have a lesson. Your Highness, we won’t do practical exercises today; I want to understand how well you’re doing in your theoretical courses.”

Mentioning theoretical courses, Yún Xúnlán regained some confidence and promptly agreed, “Okay.”

Because if the exam only tested this and not practical skills, Yún Xúnlán could guarantee a perfect score.

After Yú Chén posed a few questions, he found that this was indeed the case—Yún Xúnlán could provide the most perfect combat methods and military plans for all theoretical exam questions, his answers were practically standard responses. He could even recite all the original texts from the textbook word for word, making him a walking encyclopedia of “War Psychology” theory.

Even Yú Chén himself couldn’t reach that level.

It was the first time he witnessed such a stark contrast between someone’s theoretical knowledge and practical skills. He also felt that the military academy’s rule requiring students to pass practical assessments to graduate was quite correct; otherwise, what would happen if a theoretical giant like Yún Xúnlán appeared on the battlefield, but was lacking in practical skills?

Originally, Yú Chén planned to deliberately extend the tutoring session late into the night to see if Yún Xúnlán would invite him to sleep on the same bed. However, since Yún Xúnlán could recite the “War Psychology” textbook flawlessly and performed exceptionally well, Yú Chén lost track of time as the tutoring session progressed.

By the time he realized it, it was already past midnight.

Outside, the stars and moon hung high, and the world was silent, with only the sound of the waves crashing on the shore breaking the stillness.

“Look, the bedroom is perfect for tutoring; Yú Chén has even gotten lost in the moment,” the system sighed, feeling emotional. “Only your second brother would think the bedroom isn’t suitable for tutoring. Without your second brother’s interruptions tonight, Yú Chén hasn’t complained at all. Trust me, from now on, you two should tutor in the bedroom every day and go straight to sleep afterward.”

Yún Xúnlán wholeheartedly agreed, “Hmm, I’ll listen to you.”

After finishing his conversation with the system in his mind, he immediately raised his gaze to look at Yú Chén.

Just then, Yú Chén was also looking at him, his beautiful, deep blue eyes like a still ice lake, staring without blinking, giving an inexplicable sense of anticipation.

But the last time Yú Chén had rejected him was still fresh in Yún Xúnlán’s mind. He felt he might have misread the situation, so he nervously fixed his gaze on Yú Chén and cautiously hinted, “Yú Chén, you’ve worked hard tonight. My bed is quite big; how about…”

He didn’t finish his sentence because he noticed that Yú Chén seemed to… not be breathing???

Yún Xúnlán couldn’t see any rise and fall in his chest, like a robot that had run out of power, staring without blinking and not breathing, making one want to check his pulse to see if his heart was still beating.

But before Yún Xúnlán could figure it out, Yú Chén spoke up, “How about what?”

—Ah, he can talk; he must have misjudged.

Yún Xúnlán smoothly completed his sentence: “How about we just rest here together for the night?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Yú Chén nodded, “Okay.”

He even added, “Not just making do.”

Yú Chén’s agreement was so straightforward that it left Yún Xúnlán stunned for a couple of seconds. Then, as his thoughts returned, he worried that Yú Chén might change his mind, so he hurriedly got up from his chair and walked toward the changing room: “I have a brand new set of pajamas and a bath towel; I’ll get them for you.”

Yún Xúnlán found a set of Klein blue long-sleeved pajamas and a bath towel to hand to Yú Chén.

Yú Chén didn’t refuse.

He took the pajamas and bath towel and headed toward the bathroom, but unexpectedly, Yún Xúnlán followed him into the bathroom.

So Yú Chén held his breath again—what was Yún Xúnlán planning to do?

Was he going to bathe with him?

However, the distance from the changing room to the bathroom was short, leaving no time for Yú Chén to continue his wild imagination. Yún Xúnlán revealed the truth: “The toiletries in the left bathroom are all brand new; I haven’t used them.”

Yú Chén: “…”

Alright, the prince’s bathroom has two shower stalls, a large bathtub with massage functions, and a hot spring pool that can accommodate ten people at once. There were plenty of places to bathe, so he didn’t have to worry about Yún Xúnlán bathing with him.

Yú Chén took a quick shower in the left shower stall, where all the toiletries were unscented. After washing up, he had no other scent on him, which was very friendly for the scent-sensitive alpha.

The only unfriendly thing was that when Yú Chén came out of the left shower stall, he found Yún Xúnlán was washing up in the right shower stall.

Even though the shower stall door was tightly closed, not a hint of steam escaped, but he could hear the sound of water droplets, and it felt as if he could smell a damp scent mixed with lychee and rose. It wasn’t as rich and intoxicating as other rose scents, but it was equally ambiguous, easily leading one’s thoughts astray.

Yú Chén swallowed hard and didn’t linger in the bathroom, quickly returning to the bedroom.

Ten minutes later, Yún Xúnlán also came out of the bathroom.

The Klein blue was eye-catching; he could easily spot Yú Chén with just a glance.

The black-haired, blue-eyed alpha had his long lashes lowered, sitting on the sofa by the window, his uniform removed, his body covered by a layer of soft, skin-friendly fabric. His broad, muscular shoulders were fully visible, and he still exuded that cold, indifferent aura, his handsome face etched with a sense of abstinence and distance. Yet, his body, radiating a primal, wild charm, emitted an indescribable, intense sexual attraction, full of contradictions and contrasts.

So Yún Xúnlán stared at him, momentarily lost in thought.

Until he met Yú Chén’s gaze, he seemed to wake from a dream and walked to the edge of the bed, patting the pillow: “Yú Chén, why don’t you lie down on the bed first?”

Yún Xúnlán had never slept on the same bed with anyone before, and he didn’t know what the process of sleeping with someone else should be like. He just thought that since there was a bed to lie on, why sit? So he asked.

Yú Chén replied in a low voice, “I’m waiting for you.”

Yún Xúnlán lay down on the bed, turned to face Yú Chén, and smiled: “Then you can come over now.”

Yú Chén didn’t say anything more. He silently lifted the blanket, crossed his hands over his abdomen, and lay down beside the prince, keeping a respectful distance of an arm’s length.

The system reminded Yún Xúnlán: “You should sleep with your feet touching, feet touching, it’s important to touch feet. There’s enough space between you two to fit another person; you won’t become brothers even if you sleep for ten years.”

Yún Xúnlán humbly accepted the advice: “Okay, I’ll touch feet right away.”

He turned over, facing Yú Chén, then extended his left foot, quietly sliding it under the blanket until it soon touched… Yú Chén’s calf.

The system: “Your Highness, you’ve touched the wrong spot.”

“He’s a bit taller than me and lying a bit farther away, so it’s hard for me to find the right spot,” Yún Xúnlán explained, actively correcting his mistake. “I’ll do it again.”

Though he said he would do it again, Yún Xúnlán didn’t move his toes away; instead, he continued to press against Yú Chén’s calf, then slowly slid down a bit—he didn’t dare to move his foot away, what if he got it wrong again?

The ceiling light automatically turned off when it sensed both of them lying down, making the night even quieter, so quiet that Yún Xúnlán could hardly hear Yú Chén’s breathing. Instead, the rustling sounds of the pajamas and bed sheets became particularly clear.

Yú Chén could clearly hear the sound of Yún Xúnlán moving closer to him.

And what he clearly sensed, besides hearing, was touch—Yún Xúnlán gently pressed his toes against Yú Chén’s calf.

With the barrier of pajama pants, they weren’t actually making skin contact, but that soft and slight touch still made Yú Chén’s heart drop heavily, then beat like a drum, as if he had just undergone an intense physical workout.

“Thump, thump, thump…”

So fast it made him feel slightly breathless.

Following that, Yú Chén indeed held his breath for the fourth time tonight—because Yún Xúnlán was rubbing against his calf.

From his calf all the way to his ankle, from the thin fabric barrier to real skin contact, the coolness of the youth’s toes was gradually warmed by his high body temperature.

Yú Chén was a man who had slept with a group of alphas; he knew what it was like to sleep normally with an alpha, so he understood that this sleep with Yún Xúnlán was not normal!

The prince’s not too heavy, not too light, almost teasing rub was the most straightforward sexual suggestion.

Yú Chén held his breath for the fifth time, the thought echoing in his mind: I’m not misreading this; he really wants to date me, wants to seduce me, wants to sleep with me.

But he hadn’t yet decided whether to accept Yún Xúnlán.

This progress was too fast; Yú Chén couldn’t handle Yún Xúnlán’s blatant seduction. He adjusted his sleeping position, moving a bit to the left to avoid the touch of Yún Xúnlán’s toes.

Unexpectedly, the next second, the silver-haired alpha also adjusted his position, moving closer, and pressed his toes against Yú Chén’s ankle, lightly stepping on it, sending a tingling sensation through him.