Chapter 17 – Wine-Stained Peach

Zhou Yi had been in the practice room, being pushed to the limit by Director Lin, and hadn’t visited Xiang Ning’s place for two weeks. Xiang Ning, feeling a bit restless, started bringing meals to He Rong, who was too busy to come home for dinner. In the afternoons, he would sit in the practice room and watch Zhou Yi train, then go home with He Rong in the evenings.

This was a nice routine, but the three little cats at home were not too pleased.

The cats had grown significantly. The oldest was a white cat who loved to sleep on the warm cushion on the balcony, only moving when disturbed by the younger ones. The second was a calico with a black patch over one eye, looking both funny and adorable.

The youngest was a black-and-white cow-patterned kitten, the most active and mischievous. It had torn apart many boxes and once fell off a cabinet while trying to steal cat food, scaring Xiang Ning so much that he and He Rong rushed it to the vet. It only had a sprained foot, which healed in a couple of days, but Xiang Ning had to keep it isolated for two days, and it ignored him for that time.

Xiang Ning was sitting in the practice room, bored, and turned on the home security camera.

The youngest cat, now recovered, was playing with the vacuum cleaner. The calico was sleeping soundly next to its brother. Xiang Ning smiled and was about to turn off the camera when the youngest cat, intrigued by something, jumped onto the cabinet and knocked the camera over.

Xiang Ning sighed and turned off the camera, watching Zhou Yi wipe his sweat and sit down next to him, his body steaming from the heat.

Xiang Ning handed him a cup of water. Zhou Yi drank half the bottle in one go and sat there, dazed.

“Working so hard?” Xiang Ning wrote, passing him the note.

“Yeah,” Zhou Yi smiled. “Filming starts in less than a month.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’m just starting. If I don’t work hard, no one will notice me.”

The practice room door opened, and Director Lin poked his head in. “Xiang Ning, President He wants to see you.”

Xiang Ning had never seen the internal lines so busy before.

He said goodbye to Zhou Yi and Director Lin and headed upstairs.

He Rong had just put down his pen when he heard a knock. He picked it up again. “Come in.”

Xiang Ning walked in and silently asked, “What’s wrong?”

He Rong saw the concern and gestured for him to come closer, hugging him and sighing deeply. “I’m a bit tired.”

Xiang Ning looked at the scattered files on the table, his heart aching as he touched He Rong’s head.

He Rong, with Xiang Ning by his side, watched the young man read quietly on the sofa, the sunlight dancing on his eyelashes, warm and gentle.

He Rong couldn’t focus on his work, laughing at himself for acting like a high school student.

Xiang Ning, oblivious to his thoughts, fell asleep. He Rong gently carried him to the resting room and kissed his forehead.

The audition program was about to start, and the rules were sent to Zhou Yi. It was a closed training, and even phones couldn’t be carried around. Zhou Yi dragged Xiang Ning out for two days of fun and even took him to a bar the night before he left.

Xiang Ning refused, but Zhou Yi, holding his hand, pleaded, “I’ve never been either. Once I’m famous and in the public eye, I won’t be able to come.”

He glanced at Xiang Ning’s face and whispered, “Besides, it’s just a quiet bar.” He was just curious about the live performances.

The dim lighting and shadowy figures didn’t have the flashy lights or drunk groups that Xiang Ning expected. He relaxed a bit and, after much pleading from Zhou Yi, finally nodded.

“I’ll tell He Rong first.”

“Don’t,” Zhou Yi stopped him. “If President He knows, Director Lin will find out, and she won’t agree.”

Xiang Ning put away his phone.

They walked into the bar, trying to look calm.

The bartender, sensing their inexperience, pushed the drink menu and asked what they wanted.

Zhou Yi ordered a mojito, took a few sips, and didn’t taste any alcohol. He turned to Xiang Ning, who had already drunk half his glass and was blushing, his eyes glazed over and laughing. Zhou Yi was startled and turned to the bartender. “What did he drink?”

“Long Island Iced Tea.”

Xiang Ning, confused by the drink names, had chosen the one that looked least like alcohol, unaware of the bartender’s amused expression. The bartender, with a bit of mischief, made Zhou Yi’s mojito without alcohol, so even if he drank it, it wouldn’t matter.

But he hadn’t expected Xiang Ning to get so drunk so quickly.

Xiang Ning, holding his glass, wanted to drink more. Zhou Yi quickly stopped him, paid the bill, and tried to leave.

But Xiang Ning, usually quiet, became rowdy when drunk. He was strong and wouldn’t let go of a tree. Zhou Yi, holding his mask, tried to drag Xiang Ning back.

Xiang Ning grunted and leaned over a trash can.

People passing by jumped away, muttering, “Drunkard!”

Zhou Yi’s grip loosened. He dragged Xiang Ning to a bench, relieved, but then noticed the tears on his face.

Zhou Yi was startled. Xiang Ning couldn’t speak, and his phone rang. It was He Rong.

“Where are you?” He Rong’s voice was gentle. “I’ll come pick you up.”

“President He,” Zhou Yi swallowed. “This is Zhou Yi.”

There was a pause. “Where’s Xiang Ning?”

“Xiang Ning is… drunk…” Zhou Yi hesitated, holding the crying Xiang Ning, not daring to let go.

“Address.” He Rong grabbed his car keys and rushed out, his face dark. He hung up.

When he arrived, he saw Xiang Ning sitting by the roadside, head down. He Rong sighed with relief, parked the car, and helped Xiang Ning up, speaking to Zhou Yi. “Get in the car.”

Zhou Yi got in, sitting in the back, hands and feet neatly placed. He Rong, not in the mood, dropped him off and drove away, leaving a trail of exhaust.

Xiang Ning sat quietly in the passenger seat, seemingly asleep.

At a red light, He Rong touched Xiang Ning’s peach-like eyes. Unexpectedly, Xiang Ning’s tears started again, two streams of tears falling.

He Rong, seeing Xiang Ning’s obvious vulnerability for the first time, felt his heart soften, unable to scold him.

The car slowly drove into the yard. He Rong got out first, gently lifting the sleeping Xiang Ning from the passenger seat, sighing. “You…”

Xiang Ning, eyes closed, slept soundly. The feeling of being lifted made him cling to He Rong’s neatly pressed suit, leaving dirty tear marks.

He Rong, considering Xiang Ning’s reclusive nature, had dismissed the servants early, and they had been living alone for the past half year. Now, he faced a challenge. He wanted to wet a towel for Xiang Ning’s swollen eyes but was stopped as soon as he put him down. Xiang Ning opened his eyes, burped, and started crying again, refusing to let go of He Rong’s clothes.

He Rong, feeling both sweet and bitter, kissed his lips and carried him to the bathroom, struggling to get a wet towel.

He folded the towel and softly instructed, “Close your eyes.”

Xiang Ning’s eyes, wide and tear-free, stared at He Rong’s gentle face in the light.

Without waiting for further instructions, Xiang Ning closed his eyes, sniffed, and smiled at He Rong.

Xiang Ning’s cheeks were red and hot, like a heated peach, plump and rosy. His nose was red from crying, and his face looked as if it had been lightly powdered, the fine hairs on his skin visible in the light. His eyelashes trembled, and he peeked through them, quickly closing them when he met He Rong’s gaze.

He Rong, suppressing a smile, placed the towel over his swollen eyes and kissed his slightly parted lips.

Xiang Ning, satisfied, wrapped his arms around He Rong’s neck and gently bit his lower lip. He Rong touched his swollen eyes, savoring the warmth of the alcohol in his mouth. Xiang Ning’s breathing quickened, and he lightly tugged at He Rong’s slightly longer hair.

He Rong pinched his cheeks, a thought crossing his mind: If Xiang Ning could speak right now, it would be perfect.

The next day

Xiang Ning: What do you want to eat?

He Rong: Wine-stained peach