Chapter 89: Darling, the Stars

Time stretched on, unbearably long. Shen Jixing had lost all sense of how much time had passed; his wrist, gripped tightly, went from burning hot to aching and numb. Resting his head against Zhou Yili’s shoulder, he muttered a curse under his breath, “Zhou Yili.”

His cool, clear voice carried dissatisfaction and reproach. Just how much longer did the man intend to keep this up…

“Yes, I’m here,” came the low, magnetic reply, blurred and sensual in the deepening night. Something cool pressed against Shen Jixing’s wrist—he realized it was a sensor.

Instinctively, Shen Jixing tried to pull away. “Don’t…”

Even now, this scoundrel wanted to see his true feelings.

Zhou Yili gripped his slender waist with one hand, easily pinning him beneath him, while the other fastened the silver sensor firmly around his wrist, leaving no room for protest. The metallic coolness soon warmed against his skin.

“I want to see,” Zhou Yili’s voice was rough, as if scraped by gravel.

At moments like this, the little lion beneath him was like a full-grown beast—sensual, drenched in desire, his eyes black as a soul-swallowing abyss.

“Let me see, Teacher Shen,” Zhou Yili coaxed, using a title both familiar and distant, making Shen Jixing pause in surprise.

With a soft click, the silver sensor locked in place. A faint electric current brushed against his pulse.

In that instant, the roses outside burst into full bloom, their petals trembling in the night breeze, lush and dewy.

Flushed with embarrassment and anger, Shen Jixing covered Zhou Yili’s eyes, his voice icy: “You’re not allowed to look.”

Zhou Yili chuckled low in his throat, then tilted his head to nip gently at Shen Jixing’s Adam’s apple.

Shen Jixing went rigid, his hand faltering.

A sudden shudder ran through Zhou Yili; he gripped the moist, pale nape before him and, like a lion claiming his territory, bit down hard at Shen Jixing’s throat.

Instantly, Shen Jixing’s eyes misted. “Zhou Yili! Are you a dog… or what?”

Zhou Yili fell silent, offering no retort.

Moonlight flowed over Shen Jixing’s body.

...

In the bathroom, ignoring the sting of his reopening wound, Zhou Yili busied himself with washing his delicate, pampered lover clean.

“Are you angry? Hmm?” Zhou Yili smiled as he spoke, rubbing his tall nose against Shen Jixing. “There, all clean, good as new—just as beautiful as ever.”

Shen the Movie Star had a terrible obsession with cleanliness.

Zhou Yili, as arrogant as he had been before, was now equally humble, serving with the devotion of a grandson.

“You’re the one who’s as good as new,” Shen Jixing shot him a cold look. What kind of way was that to describe a person?

Wrapping him in a towel, Zhou Yili scooped him up with one arm and carried him out. His foot nudged the crumpled, soiled white pajamas on the floor. He asked, “Do you still want these?”

He wasn’t being insensitive—he simply doubted Shen Jixing would ever wear them again.

Shen Jixing had rarely been so disheveled; earlier, dazed atop Zhou Yili’s lap, even his long, cool lashes seemed frozen still.

Like a drenched, fragile porcelain doll.

In the end, he’d glared back in angry embarrassment—a memory that made Zhou Yili’s heart go soft even now.

“Wash them,” Shen Jixing replied coolly, leaning against Zhou Yili’s shoulder, then added after a pause, “You can wear them from now on.”

Zhou Yili couldn’t help but laugh softly for a while.

The person nestled at his side was as exquisite as sculpted jade, a faint red mark circling his wrist where the silver sensor still hung, though now its power was off.

“How are you so adorable, Shen Jixing?” Zhou Yili couldn’t resist kissing his damp, slender cheek.

Shen Jixing frowned and turned away. “Get lost.”

This beautiful man treated everyone’s touch with equal disdain.

“Such a temper,” Zhou Yili teased, tucking him into the soft covers, his brow brushing Shen Jixing’s nose. “You’re going to marry me one day, and still you push me away?”

Shen Jixing was simply unsettled by the rawness of it all for the first time.

Besides, he suspected Zhou Yili had done it on purpose—to let his own breath seep into the six-pointed star at Shen Jixing’s waist.

But before he could retort, a sudden realization struck him.

“Marry?”

“Yes,” Zhou Yili answered as a matter of course, tucking the blanket around him. “I won’t let you go again.”

Zhou Yili’s certainty wasn’t rooted in faith in Shen Jixing—but in himself.

“Unless you kill me outright,” he said, knowing himself better than anyone. He was incapable of loving another so deeply; from the first moment he’d met Shen Jixing, his burning heart had belonged to him alone.

“So otherwise, you’ll just have to let me have you.”

“……”

“Sleep now, darling.” Zhou Yili’s voice was casual, yet full of tenderness. He bent down to steal another kiss from those soft lips. “My star.”

With one hand, he unbuttoned his shirt collar, tossing it—cuffs and all—aside, and went to the bathroom to tend to his wound and do the laundry.

For several moments, Shen Jixing was left speechless.

He yanked the covers over his flushed face. “Pervert.”

The night was gentle and deep.

After showering, Zhou Yili slipped into bed beside him, carrying the fresh, clean scent of water.

He wondered if pulling Shen Jixing into his arms for another kiss would be too much.

Clicking his tongue softly, he decided not to push his luck.

If you anger the little white bird, it might fly away.

As sleepiness overtook him, Shen Jixing seemed to sense his presence. Turning, he wrapped his arms around Zhou Yili’s waist, nestling his head into his chest, breathing in the crisp, comforting scent of security.

“I’m not leaving.”

He was answering Zhou Yili’s words.

—I won’t let you go again.

—I’m not leaving.

The silly young lion still didn’t know—

Shen Jixing had come for him from the very beginning.