Had Bo Xiangzhou noticed that detail?

An Xun thought probably not, otherwise he wouldn’t have used that cup.

Downstairs, Bo Xiangzhou was washing a cup. An Xun slowly approached and stood next to him. As Bo Xiangzhou was about to place the cleaned wine glass on the rack, An Xun quickly grabbed the handle, twisted his wrist, and took the glass before Bo Xiangzhou could react, shoving the bowl into his hands.

He smiled without showing his teeth, a sly look in his eyes, “Thanks for the hard work, President Bo. I’m going to sleep now.”

Bo Xiangzhou, without drying his hands, accidentally splashed some water on An Xun’s face, “Go on, and don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“What if I forget? Are you going to hit me?” An Xun wiped his face and retaliated by wiping the water from his palm onto Bo Xiangzhou’s sleeve.

Bo Xiangzhou frowned slightly, “No, just don’t cry during your dental appointments.”

An Xun wiped his hands on Bo Xiangzhou’s sleeves again. Bo Xiangzhou, looking helpless, nudged his shoulder, “Go to sleep, stop causing trouble here.”

“I’m not,” An Xun muttered softly.

Back upstairs, An Xun had turned off the light in the study and sat on the bed with a book he had taken from his study.

“Why are you in such a mood to read today?”

An Xun replied sensibly, “I’m just full and bloated.”

Bo Xiangzhou chuckled and glanced at the cover, “‘The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order’—I wouldn’t really recommend this book for you. You should be reading bedtime stuff like ‘The Little Prince.’”

An Xun felt belittled. He had struggled to pick a book that seemed deep and meaningful and was even a foreign translation.

“Why don’t you suggest ‘Grimm’s Fairy Tales’ then?”

“‘Andersen’s Fairy Tales’ might also work. Do you want to read it?”

An Xun was certain that if he said yes, there would be a new small bookshelf in his study by tomorrow.

He shook his head, “It was just a whim, you know how I get headaches from reading.”

Bo Xiangzhou didn’t understand the purpose of his reading tonight, but that didn’t stop him from teasing, “Really? That’s a bad habit, you should change that.”

“This can’t be rushed; I need a few years to recuperate my body first.”

“Is reading related to your physical health?”

An Xun argued illogically, “Of course, it is! I only have time to read at night. What if I stay up late reading and ruin my health?”

Bo Xiangzhou seemed amused, “Can reading for just ten minutes really ruin your health?”

“Yes, it can! I said it can, so it can!” An Xun covered his mouth, “Shut up! You don’t understand, omegas are very delicate, like me. I can’t overstrain my brain, or I’ll ache all over.”

His voice, tinged with laughter, seeped through his fingers, “That serious? Then you really should take good care of yourself.”

“You just figured that out?” An Xun commanded, “So tomorrow I want to eat big shrimp.”

“I’ll take you out to eat,” Bo Xiangzhou said, “I’ll pick a few places; where do you want to go tomorrow?”

“Just the two of us?”

“Who else did you want to bring?”

He thought about inviting Tao Nian but then decided against it.

Bo Xiangzhou sent him a few options, and An Xun looked them up online one by one but didn’t really like any of them.

First, he ruled out amusement parks; without kids, it would be awkward just by himself, and he imagined Bo Xiangzhou would just sit and hold his water. Plus, it was too crowded, and his identity could be easily exposed—he wanted a few more days without the media hounding him.

Then, hiking. Didn’t Bo Xiangzhou realize how lazy he was? He would probably die halfway up a mountain.

He preferred somewhere quiet, but none of the places Bo Xiangzhou suggested fit that description.

It seemed Bo Xiangzhou deeply misunderstood him, beyond explanation.

Lying sideways, An Xun leaned his upper body on Bo Xiangzhou, propping himself up on his chest, “This one, the botanical garden in Lincheng, a 5A tourist spot. We can go early in the morning and be back by midnight, and it won’t interfere with my work the day after.”

“You just want to eat, right?” Bo Xiangzhou cut through his pretext.

Was it that obvious?

An Xun looked down, the promotional material indeed listed special foods at the garden.

He smiled politely; now it was indeed about eating.

An Xun’s tone became more polite, “President Bo, how are we getting there tomorrow?”

“Not far, we’ll drive.”

“Oh.” At least he wouldn’t be tired.

An Xun felt relieved, fixed Bo Xiangzhou’s blanket, and continued with what he was doing.

It was all Bo Xiangzhou’s fault, diverting the topic to going out, disrupting his original plans.

An Xun was eager to try, “President Bo, can you sleep well at night?”

What kind of question was that?

Bo Xiangzhou was increasingly puzzled by him, “Of course I can.”

Why not follow the usual pattern?

An Xun’s expression changed slightly, and he huffed lightly as he covered Bo Xiangzhou’s eyes, “Don’t lie to me, I know you struggle to fall asleep every night. Just let yourself drift off, and I’ll read you to sleep.”

His lips curled upward, “It’s more like I should be soothing you.”

An Xun knew how to create opportunities, “Then tonight I’ll soothe you, and tomorrow night you soothe me. Don’t talk tonight; you’ll distract me from reading.”

“I read the first chapter; I wasn’t really interested. I’ll read a chapter I find interesting.” An Xun said playfully, “President Bo, you don’t mind, do you?”

“No, pick whatever you like,” Bo Xiangzhou replied. He had read these books long ago and still remembered a bit.

An Xun cleared his throat, “The nature of civilizations. The history of humanity is the history of civilizations…”

“The result, prominent historians, sociologists, and anthropologists, including Max Weber, Emile Durkheim… There are too many names, I’m skipping this part, you can read it yourself later,” An Xun read with proper intonation, exploring the origins, formations, rises, interactions, achievements, declines, and extinctions of civilizations…

“…Some anthropologists even reversed this relationship, imagining that the primitive, unchanging, non-urban societies represented culture, while the more complex, developed, urban, and dynamic societies were civilizations—” An Xun grunted, “My throat is dry, I’ll read more tomorrow. Are you asleep yet?”

An Xun opened his palm, and the other’s gaze was very clear. He sighed, “I read it for nothing—”

“No, there was a moment when I really felt like sleeping, but I was worried you’d use this tactic to stay up late, so I’ve been holding out,” Bo Xiangzhou got up and grabbed a bottle of blueberry juice.

“Really?” An Xun questioned.

“Really,” Bo Xiangzhou inserted a straw, “Drink up and then sleep.”

It was just a small bottle, about 200 milliliters; An Xun gulped it down quickly. The juice was sour and sweet, not too tart or sugary, leaving a pleasant aftertaste.

An Xun negotiated, “Considering I read so much, can I have another bottle?”

“No,” Bo Xiangzhou placed the book on the nightstand, “It’s already midnight, time to sleep.”

Changing Bo Xiangzhou’s mind was as hard as killing him; An Xun couldn’t persuade him and turned his back to sulk, “Which omega has it as bad as me, even my diet isn’t free.”

“What do you lack that isn’t free?” Bo Xiangzhou turned him around and pulled him into his embrace, “It’s too late, drinking too much will upset your stomach.”

“It won’t, I drink ice water in the morning during winter and it’s fine.”

What An Xun meant as “don’t think of me as too fragile” came across to Bo Xiangzhou as recklessness.

Bo Xiangzhou flicked his forehead, “That’s enough, that kind of behavior is not allowed with me.”

“Then it’s not allowed,” An Xun would still try every possible way.

Bo Xiangzhou played his trump card, “Is your little treasury full?”

An Xun was alert; this alpha had learned to use his vulnerabilities against him.

An Xun gave in, “Fine, I won’t drink anymore, you can’t dock my pay, you can be a ruthless boss at your company, but don’t come home and exploit me. Let’s sleep! Let’s pretend we never had that conversation.”

An Xun shut up first, settling into what he considered the most comfortable position in Bo Xiangzhou’s arms.

The bedroom was eerily silent, the soundless night giving him some courage.

He quickly turned his face and kissed Bo Xiangzhou’s cheek.

This was advice from netizens, who said it was easy to test someone’s feelings with very intimate physical contact to see if they dodged.

They had hugged and slept together before, and right now the most intimate act was a kiss.

They had kissed at their wedding, but that was under duress, and at that time, An Xun felt nothing but shyness.

This time was different; there was a secretive thrill.

Bo Xiangzhou ran his hand through An Xun’s hair, pulling him closer to his face.

He wasn’t asleep, but he didn’t react much either.

Did he think it was an accidental touch?

An Xun, not giving up and fueled by a competitive spirit, faced Bo Xiangzhou as if resolved to go through with it. In the darkness, he hooked his arm around Bo Xiangzhou’s neck and accidentally kissed his soft lips.

His body stiffened, then relaxed. The kiss was brief, and he felt dissatisfied, tightening his arm, his chin resting on top of An Xun’s head.

They couldn’t see each other’s expressions, but from their mingled breaths, they could vaguely discern each other’s moods.

He didn’t dislike it, didn’t resist; could this be affection? Was this what liking someone felt like?

Bo Xiangzhou wasn’t talkative; An Xun had to analyze it himself.

Undoubtedly, he was special to Bo Xiangzhou, he could feel it. The actions between them, those of lovers and those not typically of lovers, most were initiated by Bo Xiangzhou. Did this mean Bo Xiangzhou also had feelings for him?

He pressed against Bo Xiangzhou’s chest, as if he could hear the heartbeat inside, pounding loudly.

An Xun tried, “Husband?”

“Mmm, it’s too late, we’ll talk tomorrow.” After a pause, he added, “Be good.”

“I don’t want to be good, I want to talk now. You know, a fair exchange—I kissed you, so you owe me one,” An Xun had a tiny hope.

Bo Xiangzhou paused for a few seconds, then pinched his face and kissed his forehead.

He didn’t understand An Xun’s unusual behavior, but he truly couldn’t refuse his request.

Because he knew, deep down, he was willing.

An Xun felt fireworks inside; he had figured it out, this was love.

An Xun woke up in the middle of the night, smiling silently for a few minutes before snuggling back into Bo Xiangzhou’s arms.

He slept until dawn and woke up to Bo Xiangzhou packing.

The time showed 8:47. An Xun wrapped himself up, only showing his head, and asked, “Can we still make it back in time for tomorrow afternoon if we go at noon?”

“Let’s play for two days and sleep there one night. If we can’t make it back, just take a day off.”

“Okay then.”

An Xun followed his arrangement, wishing he could hang out for a few months without working.

Working was indeed one of modern society’s tortures.