With his eyes closed, Xia Yang immersed himself in the warm, lingering kiss. His mind went blank as a faint current seemed to run through his body, leaving only the sound of his pounding heartbeat in his ears.
No one had ever told him that kissing could feel so wonderful, like tasting a sweet, soft marshmallow, warm and comforting from the inside out.
The kiss lasted a long time, long enough for him to lose track of time and everything around him. It wasn’t until the phone in his pocket started to buzz that their lips finally parted.
Xia Yang opened his eyes, still clouded with a dreamy haze, breathing heavily as his chest rose and fell. His long eyelashes fluttered, and he found himself staring into Han Yi’s deep, dark eyes.
“Who’s being so inconsiderate?” Han Yi asked softly, his arm still draped around Xia Yang’s neck, warm breath brushing against his ear.
Xia Yang pulled out his phone and saw it was an unknown number.
“Probably the food delivery I just ordered. I’ll go get it.”
He gently pushed Han Yi’s arm away, straightened his clothes, and headed towards the elevator, his mind still in a daze and his legs feeling a bit weak.
He recalled reading in novels about characters feeling weak in the knees after kissing, which he never understood. After all, kissing involves the mouth, not the legs. Why would the legs feel weak?
Now, he understood.
The sensation of sinking into soft clouds was indeed real.
At the elevator, he saw the company receptionist smiling and waiting. She had taken the liberty of bringing up the food delivery. Xia Yang walked up and took the two heavy takeout boxes from her. “Thank you, that was very kind.”
“No problem, it’s my job,” the receptionist blushed slightly, looking up at him. “By the way, have you been feeling a bit under the weather? Your lips are really red.”
Xia Yang: “…”
“Are they?” He rubbed his lips, stammering, “Maybe it’s just the dry winter air.”
“I think so too,” the receptionist nodded seriously. “Oh, and if you’re not feeling well, skip the spicy sauce,” she pointed to the takeout in Xia Yang’s hands. “I’ve had food from this place, and even a little spice can set your mouth on fire.”
Xia Yang: “…Okay.”
He quickly returned to the office and set down the takeout, immediately rushing to the mirror to check his “inflamed” lips.
Han Yi watched him, opening the takeout boxes one by one. “Come over and eat. What are you looking at?”
Xia Yang didn’t respond, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His lips were indeed quite red, contrasting starkly against his pale face, like a ripe cherry.
It must have been because the kiss lasted too long, causing some blood congestion. Feeling too embarrassed to explain this to Han Yi, he just looked away and returned to the table, offering a constructive suggestion.
“For our mutual well-being, I suggest we keep our kisses under ten minutes from now on.”
“Hmm?” Han Yi looked up, “Why?”
“I have a small lung capacity; I’m afraid I might pass out if we kiss too long,” Xia Yang avoided his gaze, speaking seriously but making things up.
Han Yi glanced at his flushed lips, understanding the real reason.
“Alright, I agree,” he smiled slightly, “But I must say, even if you do pass out while kissing, I can always give you artificial respiration.”
Xia Yang: “…”
—
The afternoon was free of filming, a rare moment of relaxation.
Xia Yang lounged on the soft leather sofa, mulling over a dilemma.
Now that he and Han Yi were officially in a romantic relationship—no, more accurately, a marital one—given they’d been married for ten months already, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call them an “old married couple.”
But how was he supposed to explain this to his agent? He couldn’t just say he’d time-traveled, fell in love after the wedding, and snagged a husband.
As he was tangled up in this quandary, someone knocked on the office door. Han Yi, engrossed in his work, called out for them to enter without looking up.
The Executive Director entered, just in time to see Xia Yang rolling around on the CEO’s imported $60,000 sofa. It looked as if he was having a fit.
Director: “…”
Xia Yang, suddenly upright: “…”
Han Yi looked up briefly, “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Well, Chairman Han,” the Executive Director collected his thoughts and quickly approached his desk. “The company annual party is next week. I’ve reviewed the plans, and since we have two big stars here, we were wondering if they could perform a show and perhaps take some photos with everyone. Many people in the company are fans of Xia Xia!”
Han Yi thought for a moment, “You’ll have to discuss that with the celebrity himself.”
The director turned his gaze back to the star in question.
“Sure, sure,” Xia Yang nodded repeatedly, “No problem.”
Just trying to salvage his image after being caught by the director.
With that happily settled, the Executive Director left with a spring in his step. Xia Yang, reflecting on the situation, felt it necessary to discuss it with Han Yi.
“Boss,” he swallowed, “I think Director Li saw me acting inappropriately when he walked in.”
“What behavior?” Han Yi asked.
“Uh… Rolling around on your sofa.”
“Oh,” Han Yi paused, then waved it off nonchalantly, “It’s okay. They can get used to it.”
Xia Yang: “…”
What a boss, indulging his subordinates!
Returning to the sofa, Xia Yang continued to ponder how to handle his agent. This time, he refrained from rolling around.
Though this was Han Yi’s territory, as a family member, he felt responsible for setting a good example and not disrupting the workplace harmony.
After sitting and meditating for a while, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a message from Owen.
[Model Owen]: Idol, did Director Li talk to you about being a guest performer at the Yunding annual party?
Xia Yang typed a reply:
[Yang]: Yes, he did. I agreed.
[Model Owen]: Knew you were a good person
[Yang]: .
[Model Owen]: Idol, I have an idea. Let’s dance together. You have a boy band background, and I’ve studied dance abroad for years. The two of us together will rock the house.
Xia Yang thought for a moment and typed “OK.”
Having rejected Owen so many times, he couldn’t say no to such a small request.
The entire afternoon passed with discussions about dance routines and spending time with Han Yi at work. After dinner, they returned home around 8:30 PM.
In his room, Xia Yang didn’t rush to shower. He lay on the bed, eyes closed, replaying the day’s events in his mind like a movie.
From the unique romantic gesture to the lifelong ideal, and then to the passionate kiss, Han Yi had given him so many wonderful things. It was time he reciprocated.
As he pondered, Han Yi walked into his bedroom.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Xia Yang sat up, not planning to be honest: “Nothing much. You? Dropping by?”
Han Yi looked at him for a moment before speaking, “I came to ask for your opinion.”
Xia Yang: “?”
“Now that we’re truly a couple, I’m officially inviting you to move in with me,” Han Yi said seriously.
Xia Yang felt a lump in his throat, his ears heating up. He remembered how, when they signed the agreement, the patron had specifically warned him: no crossing boundaries, no intimate behavior, and separate rooms.
Sigh, karma always comes back around.
He couldn’t resist teasing.
“Ahem, I’ve received your invitation,” he lifted his chin, adopting an air of importance, “But I think we just confirmed our relationship, and sharing a bed shouldn’t be rushed. You can’t bite off more than you can chew, right?”
“You’re not fat,” Han Yi said.
Xia Yang: “…”
Xia Yang: “Stop twisting my words and dodging the issue!”
“Alright, I’ll respect your decision,” Han Yi said calmly, “I’ll ask again in a few days.”
Xia Yang: “.”
After Han Yi returned to his room, Xia Yang sat on his bed, staring blankly into space before returning to his earlier dilemma.
Jokes aside, he still needed to find a gift.
He fiddled with his phone, browsing a site for meaningful gifts for husbands. The top three suggestions were hair growth serum, kidney tonic pills, and a nose hair trimmer.
Xia Yang: “…”
None of these seemed particularly high-class, especially the kidney tonic pills, which were borderline insulting.
As he prepared to scroll further, a jewelry brand advertisement popped up. Xia Yang glanced at it and had a flash of inspiration.
A ring! Rings symbolize many things—exclusivity, eternity, a commitment to holding onto each other.
Perfect!
But then, another problem arose. Custom rings require sizing, and he wasn’t sure of Han Yi’s ring size. Since he wanted the gift to be a surprise, he couldn’t just ask Han Yi directly.
He would have to be sneaky and clever.
…
At midnight, the house was quiet. Xia Yang was exhausted but kept himself awake with spicy peppers.
Tonight, he had a mission!
After staying up for over an hour, with the clock nearing two, he finally washed his face and left his room.
Han Yi must be asleep by now. It was time for the “operation.”
As planned, he removed his slippers, leaving only his socks on, and stealthily opened the door to the master bedroom.
The room was silent, not a sound, with blackout curtains drawn tightly. It was pitch black.
But that wasn’t a problem; he had come prepared with a tiny flashlight. Holding the flashlight in his left hand and a soft tape measure in his right, he crept towards Han Yi’s bedside like a little cat.
Drawing closer, he squatted down, using the flashlight’s faint beam to illuminate a small area.
Han Yi’s hands were tucked under the covers, so Xia Yang had to sneakily lift the blanket. But just as he managed to create a small gap, Han Yi’s low voice came from the bed.
“What are you doing in my room? Changed your mind?”
“Ah!” Xia Yang was already feeling guilty, and the sudden voice almost scared him to death. He landed on the floor with a thud.
The bedside lamp clicked on, and Han Yi sat up, looking down at the person on the floor.
“I…” Xia Yang couldn’t muster the brainpower to come up with a perfect excuse. To avoid compromising his dignity, he confessed.
“I-I just wanted to measure your ring size while you were sleeping,” he stammered, holding up the tape measure.
Han Yi was taken aback, recalling the way Xia Yang had been lifting the blanket. His face showed a rare look of shock.
He wanted to measure his size while he was asleep???
Why?
This was a man’s most sensitive and private data. What was Xia Yang plotting…
Author’s Note:
Han Yi: You’re quite the explorer, aren’t you?
Xia Yang (innocently): Uh-huh~
Han Yi: Do you really need to use this method to get that measurement?
Xia Yang: How else?
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