After a whole day of training, Yu Li was so exhausted he was about to pass out.

Just like he did at noon, Lu Qing supported him, his strong arm wrapped tightly around the boy’s slender waist, pulling him into the shade of a tree.

Summer days were long, and even at five-thirty in the afternoon, the sun showed no signs of setting, baking the earth until it sizzled.

Yu Li slumped down in the shade, sipping water while leaning his full weight against the man beside him, his temple resting lightly on Lu Qing’s shoulder, staring blankly at the lawn in front of him.

Afternoon training had added an endurance segment, though to be honest, it was basically the instructor leading them in class formation, playing some upbeat marching music, and jogging three laps under the sun. After that, they got a sip of water, five minutes to rest, then—bam—right back to standing at attention.

Yu Li closed his eyes, remembering the taste of blood rising from his throat during the run. Just thinking about tomorrow’s training made him want to evaporate on the spot.

He sat there like a wilted vegetable for five minutes, then quietly mumbled, “Let’s go.”

Lu Qing turned his head and saw that Yu Li still looked completely wiped out, like he was about to fall asleep. He gently said, “Xiao Li, you sit here and wait for me. I’ll go bring the car.”

“Mm…” Yu Li barely responded, his voice almost nonexistent.

Lu Qing got up and jogged toward the parking lot. Left alone under the tree, Yu Li sent a few crying emojis in the family group chat, successfully harvesting loving transfers and a wave of virtual head pats from his mom, dad, and big brother.

At the top of his chat list, Pei Yu had been cursing military training with him all day and was now posting food pics from the dining hall with his roommates, happily stuffing his face.

As for the message Xu Baicheng sent him? Yu Li left it on read, didn’t reply, just glanced at it and locked his screen.

Not long after, a familiar set of footsteps came up behind him.

Yu Li slowly turned around and saw Lu Qing striding toward him. One hand carried his bag, the other just picked him up—Yu Li felt like a weightless cat, scooped up from the belly with barely any effort.

So he just gave up and leaned completely against Lu Qing, not even trying to walk, letting the man carry him off like luggage. For a moment, he had the random urge to call his brother and say thanks.

Seriously, if Yu Huaiyuan wasn’t his biological brother, who would’ve sent him such a “practical” gift?

It was still early when they got home. Yu Li took a long shower, scrubbing away the sticky sweat from top to toe. When he stepped out of the bathroom in a T-shirt and shorts, he felt like he’d been reborn.

There was only one not-so-great thing—the standard-issue camo shoes for training didn’t fit. They squeezed his feet so bad it hurt. After all the standing and running today, his calves were swollen and sore from the base upward.

“Ugh, I hate this…” Yu Li muttered, pouting with that pale, pretty face of his as he slowly dragged himself downstairs.

Outside the window, the sky had turned dark. The last glow of sunset lit the horizon in gold.

On the first floor, the man was still wearing an apron, his profile outlined by golden light. The curve of his arm muscles stood out under the dusk—strong, defined, and… very pleasing to the eye.

A treat for the soul, really.

This kind of man was exactly the type you needed to stare at just to survive military training.

Yu Li’s hand, dangling by his side, started itching out of nowhere again.

He wanted to touch.

Dinner wasn’t ready yet. Yu Li collapsed onto the sofa, lifted his aching leg, and started massaging it with his thumbs, circling over the sore calf muscle.

Though honestly, his “massage” was just him poking at his leg randomly. It didn’t do anything for the pain.

After a while, realizing it was useless, Yu Li leaned back on the couch and gave up.

“Xiao Shaoye.”

A deep, familiar voice came from behind the couch.

At some point, Lu Qing had walked up behind him. He glanced down at Yu Li’s pale, bare legs, his eyes darkening a bit. In a low voice, he offered, “That won’t help much. Might even make things worse for tomorrow. I learned some massage before—how about I give it a shot?”

Yu Li paused, put his hand down, and turned to look at him. “You know how to massage?”

Lu Qing nodded and walked around the sofa, kneeling on one knee in front of Yu Li. “I wouldn’t say I’m a master, but I’m decent.”

A bodyguard who could cook and massage too?

Yu Li mumbled in surprise, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Lu Qing answered without hesitation, “Give birth.”

Yu Li: “…”

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t do that either.”

A chuckle rumbled from deep in the man’s throat. His large hand slid over Yu Li’s calf, completely wrapping that soft, pale leg in his palm.

His calluses scraped lightly against the thin skin—it tickled, but also felt scorching hot.

Yu Li flinched, goosebumps prickling all over his arms.

Lu Qing had already lowered his head, fingers pressing gently into the muscle. “Might hurt a bit. Try to bear with it.”

Yu Li: “Oh… Ah—!”

He barely nodded before a pained moan slipped out of his mouth. Gripping the couch tightly, he inhaled sharply and said in a shaky voice, “Lu Qing… not so hard!”

That trembling tone of his made Lu Qing freeze for a beat. When he looked up again, his eyes were even darker than before.

The man loosened his grip and started gently circling his palm over the soft, milk-white flesh. “Okay, I’ll be gentle. Don’t shake.”

“I’m not trying to…” Yu Li wrinkled his nose. “You’re the one being rough.”

“My bad.” Lu Qing apologized in a flash, though the smirk tugging at his lips made the apology feel… a bit insincere.

Yu Li let out a tiny humph, then reached for a throw pillow from the side of the couch and hugged it to his chest. Gritting his teeth against the lingering soreness, he gave his next order: “Tomorrow I want Guo Bao Rou and Shuizhu Pork.”

Lu Qing didn’t stop his massage, moving from the calf to the back of the knee. “Okay.”

That spot was even more tender. Yu Li twitched again, toes curling on instinct atop the man’s knee.

It hurt—but the way it pushed through the knots felt kinda amazing.

To be fair, Lu Qing’s massage skills were legit. Once he lightened up on the pressure, Yu Li started getting used to it.

As the soreness eased, his mind drifted.

He buried the lower half of his face into the throw pillow, eyes half-lidded. Through the curtain of his lashes, his gaze wandered from that large, strong hand wrapped around his leg…

The hand was big, the joints defined and sturdy, easily double the size of his own. The forearm muscles were well-toned too, and when they shifted, you could faintly see veins rising under the skin. When he knelt on one knee, his thighs stretched the loose house pants tight, packed with raw power in every inch.

Every part of this man hit Yu Li right in the aesthetic.

Strong. Tall. Handsome. Untamed. Brimming with tension.

Just looking at him, you could tell he wasn’t someone to mess with. And yet here he was, back slightly bowed, kneeling on the floor like he was submitting himself… just to massage Yu Li’s legs.

It was…

Hard to put into words.

The kneading worked its way into the muscle, the heat from Lu Qing’s palm spreading across Yu Li’s skin and deeper, bone-deep and irresistible.

He looked up and met those intense, focused eyes and the sharp, handsome brows above them.

Suddenly, a strange flutter of restlessness welled up in his chest.

And no matter how he tried, he just couldn’t shake it.