Extra One®

Qin Chaochen suddenly regained his memory, and Fu Quezhi was worried there might be issues, so he called the doctor over for a consultation and ran several tests.

“Doctor, is he okay?” Fu Quezhi asked seriously, looking at the doctor.

“He’s fine, his memory is back. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest at home,” the doctor said kindly before leaving the room.

This time, Qin Chaochen was hit by a motorcycle, his head hit the ground, and he had some scrapes, but nothing serious. He didn’t need a cast, just needed to remember to change the bandages in three days.

He could be discharged directly.

“Dad Qin, you’re hurt again,” Qin Shu blinked his big eyes, looking at the blood-stained bandage on Qin Chaochen’s head.

“My Shu Shu, Daddy needs a hug,” Qin Chaochen squatted down and opened his arms.

Qin Shu jumped into Qin Chaochen’s embrace, patting his sturdy back comfortingly with his small hands.

Fu Quezhi had a lot to do, and by the time he finished, it was already evening. Standing at the door, he suddenly felt a bit of homesickness.

In his high-functioning brain throughout the day, thoughts about Qin Chaochen resurfaced.

In his arms was the wedding ring he had picked up from the store, finally ready.

“You’re back,” Qin Chaochen said with a smile. At twenty-three, he was more mature than at eighteen, and the tenderness in his eyes could melt Fu Quezhi completely.

“Yeah,” Fu Quezhi replied, hanging his coat on the rack with his briefcase in hand. His ears twitched as he sat on the sofa, changing the subject, “Where’s Shu Shu?”

“Played too much today, fell asleep after listening to a fairy tale,” Qin Chaochen moved closer, making Fu Quezhi a bit uneasy, “Why do you seem a bit nervous?”

“You…” Fu Quezhi tried to stay calm, “The change is too fast, I’m not used to it.”

Qin Chaochen thought for a moment, feeling a bit wronged, “Alright.”

When the other showed weakness, Fu Quezhi softened. He reached out to touch Qin Chaochen’s black hair, which was cut short due to the head injury, feeling prickly to the touch.

“Was it hard?” Qin Chaochen asked gloomily.

“No,” Fu Quezhi smiled, “It was quite interesting, an eighteen-year-old hothead.”

The twenty-three-year-old hothead glared at Fu Quezhi.

“Just a bit too rowdy,” Fu Quezhi pretended not to notice Qin Chaochen looking at him and continued, “Loves racing, plays games, stays up late causing trouble, takes Shu Shu out to play, not sure who’s the one going wild.”

“Rowdy, causing trouble,” Fu Quezhi summed up in four words.

“Don’t I have any good points?” Qin Chaochen looked at Fu Quezhi dejectedly, unconsciously acting spoiled, shaking Fu Quezhi’s sleeve.

“Very market-savvy, good investment targets, plays basketball handsomely, got into a good university, owns a company worth billions, without the arrogance of a rich kid.”

Fu Quezhi smiled, “And you’re the person I like.”

“You’re good with words,” Qin Chaochen glanced at Fu Quezhi.

Fu Quezhi used to be a cold personality, not very talkative, while Qin Chaochen loved to talk, being the big talker on campus.

Fu Quezhi smiled without speaking, in short, playing dumb.

After showering, Qin Chaochen, who finished first, lay on the bed feeling a bit nervous. He reminded himself he was now twenty-three, a seasoned person, not a hothead.

He casually scrolled through his phone, finding a forum where he had previously posted questions still up, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He quickly applied to delete those posts.

He opened an online game interface. He used to play games to relax, and once, without knowing each other’s identity, he became Fu Quezhi’s nominal master.

Fu Quezhi’s reason for entering the game was much simpler; he wanted to test the game’s configuration and design, as he was interested in 3D technology.

The game had always been on his phone, never uninstalled.

The bathroom door opened, revealing Fu Quezhi’s fair ankles. He dried his wet hair, his neck long, and his robe loosely draped over him.

He said nothing, sitting beside him to blow-dry his hair.

The only sound in the bedroom was the buzzing of the hairdryer. Qin Chaochen shrank to the edge of the bed, and though they did nothing, the atmosphere turned ambiguous.

Qin Chaochen clutched the thin blanket, the air conditioning set to a comfortable temperature.

Fu Quezhi climbed into bed, turned off the lights, and the scent of lavender shower gel mingled together. Qin Chaochen felt the bed dip beside him.

A warm breath encircled his strong waist from behind.

And rubbed against him.

Rubbed against him?! Qin Chaochen’s body tensed before relaxing.

So hot.

Qin Chaochen felt the heat was shared between them.

But his head was still injured.

Can’t do… anything, right?

There was a slight nibble on his back, tingling with a numbing pain, trailing down his spine, then biting heavily on the back of his neck.

Qin Chaochen clenched his fists, his dark eyes slightly moist.

He whispered, “Zhi Zhi.”

“Mm,” the person behind him paused, lazily responding like a noble, lazy Persian cat, who would scratch you with its claws when angry, leaving your face scratched.

“…My head is injured,” Qin Chaochen said shyly, struggling to speak.

After all, he believed it was his duty to satisfy his partner.

“I know.” In the darkness, only the faint moonlight shone on their faces. Fu Quezhi buried his face into Qin Chaochen’s back, his fingers resting on Qin Chaochen’s waist, feeling his abs.

“Still working out regularly,” Fu Quezhi’s voice was a bit hoarse.

“Of course, no matter what, you have to stay fit,” Qin Chaochen said confidently, then added, “Of course, also for the abs.”

Fu Quezhi lazily responded.

“Have you been going to the gym?” Qin Chaochen asked sneakily.

“Been a bit busy lately,” Fu Quezhi said vaguely. He used to go four times a week, and though he worked in an office, he still had a thin layer of muscle.

A slender waist, long legs, fair-skinned beauty.

And occasionally gave off a cold vibe.

“Then, you should work out well,” Qin Chaochen said shyly, “Practice more.”

“Mm,” Fu Quezhi replied with a blush, pinching Qin Chaochen’s abs, feeling how firm they were.

They talked about company matters and recent interpersonal relationships, fully entering an old married couple’s state. Fu Quezhi occasionally chimed in, asking Qin Chaochen questions, and Qin Chaochen asked about Fu Quezhi’s situation.

Fu Quezhi propped his head, his black hair draped behind him, his cold eyes quietly watching Qin Chaochen speak.

As Qin Chaochen spoke, he gradually fell silent, the subtle, ambiguous atmosphere spreading around them.

“My head…”

Before he could finish, he was silenced by a kiss, Fu Quezhi leaning in to kiss his lips.

Two grown men, alone together, was particularly worrying.

Fu Quezhi was very fair, not an unhealthy pale, but like a warm, delicate jade.

His ankle, after the bath, was adorned with a red string again, the white and red intertwined, the vibrant red making the white even more striking.

It was for blessings; Qin Chaochen had gotten it for Fu Quezhi when he went to pray with Mother Qin.

Now, seeing the red string, Qin Chaochen’s ears slowly turned red.

He had some impure thoughts.

His tears started falling onto Fu Quezhi’s hand.

Fu Quezhi used his fingers to touch Qin Chaochen’s eyes, bringing the tears to his lips.

Gently, he said, “Salty.”

This action made Qin Chaochen start crying again, sobbing.

“You, you’d better not talk.”

“…Can I call you?”

“Mr. Qin, what’s wrong?”

“Young Master Qin, why aren’t you speaking?”

Fu Quezhi loved teasing Qin Chaochen. He leaned close to Qin Chaochen’s ear, his voice cool and deep, “Boyfriend, what’s wrong?”

His ears turned red, and Fu Quezhi was satisfied watching Qin Chaochen’s ears blush.

“I should give you something too,” Fu Quezhi looked down at the red string on his ankle.

A ring slowly slid onto Qin Chaochen’s finger.

Qin Chaochen saw the familiar ring and blinked.

A strong force pulled Fu Quezhi into a tight embrace, held firmly in Qin Chaochen’s arms.

Qin Chaochen’s fingers tightened, turning white at the tips, holding his precious treasure dearly.

From his embrace came a low voice, “Happy wedding.”

Happy wedding, their marriage was held abroad, with only close friends and family, no grand ceremony, just mutual support, no grand wedding, just a heartfelt union.

Qin Chaochen always felt he owed Fu Quezhi a lot, trying to give him the best, but it was never enough.

When he was pregnant, he didn’t share the hardships of pregnancy.

When he was worried and afraid, he wasn’t there by his side.

When he encountered bad people, he arrived too late.

Qin Chaochen didn’t care about the identity of the antagonist in the story; he only cared about Fu Quezhi.

He had read many books, but Fu Quezhi wasn’t a book.

“Do you remember what we said on our wedding night?” Qin Chaochen asked.

Fu Quezhi’s expression was blank.

Qin Chaochen held Fu Quezhi’s hand, his palm dry and warm.

One comb to the end;

Two combs to white hair and eyebrows;

Three combs to children and grandchildren all around;

Four combs for good fortune, meeting noble people on the way;

Five combs for five sons to achieve success, five silver shoots all in place;

…

Ten combs for the couple to grow old together.

Fu Quezhi’s thoughts leaped back several years.

“And some other words,” Fu Quezhi smiled slightly, just like back then, placing his hand on Qin Chaochen’s neck, “Shouldn’t we consummate the marriage?”

Qin Chaochen leaned down to kiss Fu Quezhi’s lips.

The geese leave no trace, but love leaves a mark.

“Hello, I’m Qin Chaochen, your neighbor,” little Qin Chaochen said happily.

“Hello, I’m Fu Quezhi, not a cute person,” little Fu Quezhi said, pretending to be indifferent.

“Hey, but you look really cute.”

▍Author’s Note

Qin Chaochen only realized he was in a book after hearing about the real and fake young master story; he didn’t know before.

Qin Chaochen: Always a face lover since childhood.

The ten combs are from the internet.