BPTCMW : Chapter 36

Xia Yang ultimately decided not to go to the bar with the others.

On the way back, he pulled out his phone and sent Han Yi another message on WeChat.

[Yang]: Did you see a doctor?

It took a few minutes for Han Yi to respond.

[Han Yi]: The doctor said there’s no major issue. It’s likely discomfort caused by psychological effects.

[Yang]: Oh.

[Yang]: Wait for me, I’ll head back right away.

Exiting WeChat, he thought for a moment and then opened an online consultation app, connecting with a doctor.

[User 3435]: Hello, doctor. What could be causing leg pain, chest tightness, and difficulty breathing on the fourth day after surgery?

[Internet Doctor]: Hello. Assuming infection, allergies, and other surgical complications are ruled out, these symptoms might be psychological, such as fear, anxiety, stress, or depression.

[Internet Doctor]: If the discomfort is severe, I recommend visiting the relevant department at a hospital for professional treatment. If the discomfort is mild, activities that release dopamine to “create happiness,” such as telling jokes, listening to music, watching comedy movies, or engaging in other enjoyable activities, may help alleviate the symptoms.

With both online and offline doctors attributing the symptoms to psychological effects, Xia Yang concluded the same. 

Thus, if he could relieve Han Yi’s negative emotions and make him feel relaxed and happy, there shouldn’t be any major issues.

The car drove onto an overpass, and after two more traffic lights off the bridge, they reached the hospital.

He asked the driver to stop near a large supermarket entrance, went inside to buy something, and came out with a few bottles of banana yogurt.

Back at the hospital, he pushed open the door to find Han Yi leaning against the bed, looking at a tablet.

“Hi, I’m back,” Xia Yang greeted, striding over.

Han Yi looked up at him, a flicker of emotion in his dark eyes. “How are you feeling now? Still uncomfortable?” Xia Yang set down the items and placed his palm on Han Yi’s forehead.

It felt warm, but not feverish.

“Much better,” Han Yi replied, lowering his eyelashes.

“That’s good. You know, I think you’re just scared, overly tense after the surgery. Just relax, don’t stress so much. It’s not good for recovery; it could even cause acne, wrinkles, and hair loss.”

He rambled on, and Han Yi simply listened quietly, nodding occasionally.

… Hmm, his plastic husband seemed unusually gentle today, almost “well-behaved.”

He must really be feeling unwell, poor guy. Feeling a pang of sympathy, Xia Yang remembered the banana yogurt he had bought and quickly brought a bottle over.

He pierced the foil cover with a straw and held it to Han Yi’s lips. “Here, I bought this for you. The probiotics and bananas can help regulate mood, relieve stress, and even boost appetite and libido.”

Han Yi glanced at it and hesitated. “You’re not drinking?”

“Well, I’ve never been a fan of banana flavor,” Xia Yang shook his head. “But if you really want me to try it, I wouldn’t deny you the pleasure.”

Saying this, he leaned forward and took a sip from Han Yi’s straw.

Han Yi’s hand wobbled.

“Hey, don’t move,” Xia Yang mumbled around the straw.

And Han Yi’s hand indeed stayed still.

The creamy texture of the yogurt was thick, sweet, and slightly sour, with a rich banana flavor that filled his mouth, mixed with a hint of honey beans.

“Hmm, not bad,” Xia Yang remarked after taking a sip and then releasing the straw, handing it back to Han Yi. “You should finish it and get some rest.”

Han Yi hesitated, frowning slightly. He noticed a small tooth mark on the straw.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like banana flavor either?” The young man blinked at him innocently.

Han Yi met his gaze, paused for a few seconds, then lowered his head. His lips pressed against the straw, and after a moment, he murmured, “It’s not bad.”

After drinking the yogurt, it was still early to sleep. Xia Yang took a shower and returned to bed, wearing Bluetooth earphones and watching something on his phone.

Han Yi also went to the bathroom for a quick wash and came back to see the young man sprawled on the bed, his legs dangling off the edge, and a glimpse of his waist peeking out from under his shirt.

His skin was as white as warm jade, almost dazzling to the eyes. Han Yi quickly looked away, picking up the water cup on the nightstand and taking a few sips.

Setting down the cup, he was about to grab his tablet to continue reading the news when he heard Xia Yang shout—

“Fuck him!”

“Push harder!”

“Fuck from behind!”

Han Yi: “………………”

He nearly spat out the water in his mouth.

Beside him, Xia Yang was enthusiastically immersed, his eyes glued to the phone screen, hands slapping the bed in excitement.

Han Yi frowned, rubbing his throbbing temples. His mind flashed to some vivid, inappropriate imagery, and his face darkened.

He tolerated the unsettling atmosphere for a while but eventually couldn’t stand it. He rapped his fingers against the nightstand, making a “knock knock” sound.

Xia Yang looked up, took off his earphones, and asked with a childlike innocence, “What’s up, Mr. Han?”

“… Aren’t you afraid of not being able to sleep after watching that kind of thing?” Han Yi asked, lowering his eyelids.

Xia Yang blinked and tilted his head. “Not at all; it’s quite interesting. I could share it with you later; it might make you happy and relieve stress.”

“No need.” Han Yi declined immediately.

But it seemed like Xia Yang didn’t hear his refusal.

About ten minutes later, WeChat chimed with a new message—an intriguing video sent to Han Yi’s phone.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and grabbed his phone, intending to delete the video.

But when he opened the chat, he was stunned—

“Awesome! You’ve never seen kangaroos fight like this; they make me want to join them!”

Han Yi: “…”

Han Yi: “……………………”

*

At eleven o’clock sharp, just as they were getting ready for bed, Xia Yang received a message from Tang Siming.

First, Tang Siming relayed the next script reading session’s time, then asked about Han Yi’s recovery.

Xia Yang told him the truth.

[Yang]: Brother Yi was fine yesterday, but today he’s not feeling well—leg pain, chest tightness, and difficulty breathing.

[Oscar-Winning Mr. Tang]: What?! Really? How could that happen?

Xia Yang took a screenshot of their previous conversation, checked that there was no private information, and sent it to Tang Siming.

[Yang]: [Image]

A few moments later, Tang Siming replied.

[Oscar-Winning Mr. Tang]: [emmmm]

[Oscar-Winning Mr. Tang]: Sister-in-law, there’s something I don’t know if I should say or not.

[Yang]: Go ahead.

[Oscar-Winning Mr. Tang]: From my experience, Brother Yi’s discomfort seems to be “conditioned discomfort.”

[Yang]: ???

[Oscar-Winning Mr. Tang]: He didn’t mention feeling unwell all day, but suddenly felt it when you were about to go to the bar… hehe, Brother Yi probably just missed you and didn’t want you to leave him. Now that you’re back, he’s all better, right?

[Oscar-Winning Mr. Tang]: Sister-in-law, please don’t tell Brother Yi that I revealed his little trick. [Yellow Bean Grinning][Yellow Bean Grinning]

Xia Yang felt enlightened by Tang Siming’s analysis. He glanced at the man on the bed beside him, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions.

Well, well, a schemer, tricking him so smoothly.

He could guess the real reason Han Yi didn’t want him to go to the bar—it wasn’t as sentimental as Tang suggested, like missing him.

Han Yi had previously warned him about his poor alcohol tolerance and forbade him from drinking outside. Tsk, even though the old dog was scheming, he stuck to his principles and seemed to care about him.

With this thought, Xia Yang’s gaze softened slightly, and he decided not to pursue the old dog’s tricks for now.

The night passed peacefully.

The next day, Xia Yang woke up early. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, and Han Yi was still asleep on the bed beside him.

A black silk eye mask covered his face, adding a touch of seductive mystery. Xia Yang stared for a while, suddenly wanting to capture this perfect sleeping face.

The phone was charging on a nearby coffee table. As he got out of bed and put on his jacket, his hand brushed against something in his pocket, causing him to pause.

He took it out and saw—it was a feather.

He had originally bought it to “create happiness” for Han Yi, as the online doctor had suggested doing something enjoyable to alleviate physical discomfort caused by psychological effects. He remembered seeing a video mentioning a few sensitive, ticklish spots on the body: the palm, earlobes, knee hollows, and the sides of the waist… and, of course, some unspeakable places.

The first thing that came to mind was feather play.

It seemed unnecessary now, but since it was bought, why not use it?

Looking at the sleeping man before him, Xia Yang’s lips curved into a sly smile as if he’d decided on something.

“Mr. Han? Han Yi?” He tiptoed to the bed holding the feather and quietly approached the bed, calling out softly.

Silence. No response.

He waited by the bedside for over a minute; the man was still sound asleep. Xia Yang kicked off his shoes and carefully climbed onto Han Yi’s bed.

He studied Han Yi’s body like a connoisseur examining antiques, choosing the best spot for feather play.

Given the recent surgery, his legs were off-limits, and he didn’t dare approach the unspeakable area.

After much contemplation, Xia Yang chose the earlobe.

He had already touched Han Yi’s palm and waist side while helping him wash, with little reaction. Only the earlobe remained.

The soft, white tip of the feather glided through his fingers, sending a slight tingle like an electric current.

Not bad, nice feel… Time to start the feather play!

As he leaned in, Han Yi’s cold, handsome face magnified in his view. With high cheekbones and thin lips, his exposed ear was just outside the dark hair.

Xia Yang carefully leaned closer, holding his breath, and brushed the feather gently under Han Yi’s earlobe.

First time, no reaction.

Second time, Han Yi pursed his lips.

Third time, a faint pink blush began to spread over Han Yi’s earlobes.

Fourth time…

“What are you doing?”

Finally, a low, husky voice escaped from Han Yi’s thin lips as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Xia Yang smiled mischievously, leaning closer to whisper softly, “Mr. Han, isn’t feather play quite fun?”

The warm breath carried a hint of temptation, enveloping his ear.

Han Yi said nothing, nor did he move, but his ears grew increasingly pink.

Seeing the color deepen, Xia Yang found it quite amusing. He couldn’t resist dropping the feather and gently pinching Han Yi’s reddening earlobe.

Suddenly, a strong force flipped him over, and he found himself lying on his back, as if a small boat overturned in the ocean.

A shadow loomed over him, darkening the room. Han Yi, exuding a cold aura, loomed above, pinning Xia Yang’s wrists to the pillow.

The black silk eye mask slipped off, revealing deep, dark eyes staring down at him. The man’s entire being exuded a captivating beauty that made Xia Yang’s eyes burn.

Feeling the man’s overpowering presence, Xia Yang’s heart raced. “You… you just had surgery. You need to be careful.”

Han Yi looked down at him, his expression unreadable. “I can still discipline you even after surgery.”

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