42 : Stole a kiss

 Song Shi had been standing there for almost five hours, watching the lights behind him disappear one by one, watching scattered figures walk by, but he still couldn't see that person.

Until almost all the lights in the entire neighborhood went out, white breath escaped from his mouth, even though he was wearing many layers of clothing.

It seemed the cold wind was designed to chill him, seeping straight in through the gaps in his clothes and stealing his warmth.

He reached out and patted the snow that had accumulated on his shoulders again. He had to admit, this snow was heavy. Song Shi had rarely seen snow before; in his memory, he only saw such heavy snow when he was a child.

He rubbed his slightly frozen hands and then checked the time on his phone. He probably wouldn't be able to wait until tonight.

He had learned from that man that Chen Zhoumu was to be sent to the Qi family, but it wasn't confirmed for how long. So he was afraid that the other party might leave tomorrow morning? Or had he already left?

He looked down at the snow-covered soles of his shoes and sighed softly.

He was sleepy and cold, but the thought of tomorrow, of perhaps seeing the other person tomorrow, made him completely oblivious to the physical attacks.

Chen Zhoumu didn't even change his shoes; he grabbed a warm cotton coat and ran straight downstairs. The moment he opened the door, a blast of cold wind rushed into the room like needles

, instantly chilling him, but Chen Zhoumu didn't feel the cold.

He was excited, thrilled, and wanted to laugh out loud.

He laughed at his little cat for being so silly, for running such a long way to see him, and for waiting downstairs the whole time.

His shoes were slowly soaked by the snow outside, and his thin coat couldn't keep out the cold wind, billowing in the air.

The person standing at the door turned his head again, wanting to look back, but was immediately embraced tightly. The familiar scent replaced the smell of snow; the other person's body was cold, but their breath was warm.

His heart was racing, and then his stiff hand was grasped and pulled straight to the other person's neck, his palm slowly warming up.

Blood began to circulate rapidly, seemingly encircling the entire body, finally settling around the heart.

A slight weight settled on his shoulders; a thick cotton coat had been draped over him, but the person standing before him hadn't changed clothes either, wearing only slippers.

Chen Zhoumu released him, but the two remained in the same position, the other's hand still pressed against his neck. His smile was bright and radiant, brighter than freshly fallen snow. He

asked softly, "How did you get here? Are you tired? You're practically frozen solid."

Song Shi met his eyes, his voice hoarse from not speaking for a long time, "I'm alright, it's not too cold, I can handle it."

Their breaths mingled and then drifted into the air, disappearing.

Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, a cup of hot water beside her, she watched the two figures below approach and then embrace.

She lowered her eyes briefly, then turned away, no longer looking.

Chen Zhoumu pulled the other's hand and led him inside. Upon entering, they were enveloped by warmth. The other's room was large, filled with a jumble of things.

Everything was neatly arranged on the table or in the cabinets; there were no messy clothes or litter on the floor, and the other person's scent lingered in the air.

He was pressed down on the sofa, and the oversized coat he had just put on was hung in the closet, along with the several pieces he had taken off when he came in because it was hot.

They were also neatly hung up.

The room was dark, with only a small nightlight on the bedside table. Footsteps approached from afar, then receded.

Chen Zhoumu poured a cup of hot water, and after Song Shi took it, the other person brought over a basin of hot water, walked in, and squatted down at his feet.

Before he could react, his ankle was grabbed, a chill ran down his toes, and his shoes and socks were taken off and placed aside.

Song Shi quickly bent down and grabbed the other person's already warm hand: "Wait, I can do it myself!"

The other person was squatting, so he was a little shorter than the seated person. His hand was still on his feet and hadn't been pulled back: "Let me do it. It's because of me that this happened, I have to take responsibility."

The person sitting on the sofa compromised, then obediently watched the other person put his feet into the basin, the hot water enveloping his originally cold feet.

"Cold comes from the feet, soak them a little longer." He looked up: "How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long." Song Shi lay back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

From Chen Zhoumu's perspective, he could see the other person's prominent Adam's apple and curved neck. His hand slowly moved up and grasped the other person's calf.

Song Shi's legs weren't thick, somewhat slender but with firm muscles, and his skin, untouched by the sun, made his calves look like pieces of mutton fat jade.

The person lying on the sofa seemed really sleepy, his eyes slightly closed, his chest rising and falling slowly.

Looking at the other person's obedient appearance, Chen Zhoumu felt a little itchy, his hand leaving the other person's calf and moving to the sofa to slowly prop himself up.

He voiced his question: "So why did you come to find me?"

Song Shi didn't open his eyes. "I just came because I wanted to."

He hadn't even asked why the other person left without saying goodbye, and now the other person was accusing him first, questioning why he was there.

The thought ignited Song Shi's anger. He opened his eyes: "I haven't even asked you..."

They were too close; the other person was so close, just leaning against him, staring at him. Song Shi suddenly felt uncomfortable and reached out to push the other person away: "Squat properly."

"Okay." The other person squatted back down in their original position.

The question he had originally intended to ask was swallowed back down. Oh well, there's still time tomorrow.

Actually, this was just an excuse he made up for himself. There was no question he was holding onto, no need to get an answer.

Had he come all this way just for an answer?

Those who deceive themselves are intentional, those who are pretending to be fooled are intentional. As long as neither side speaks up or exposes the truth, this excuse can remain a shield, preventing the true purpose from being revealed.

Chen Zhoumu took the basin to pour water and returned to find the other person on the sofa with their eyes closed, seemingly asleep. He was indeed exhausted.

He didn't know how long the other person had been waiting, but given their personality, they certainly wouldn't say.

The other person was still in the same position, their head slightly tilted back—an extremely uncomfortable position, as tall people have no support for their heads.

Chen Zhoumu approached, his footsteps echoing on the floor. He was standing in the sunlight, his shadow completely obscuring the sleeping person on the sofa.

He looked down at the other person; Song Shi's frostbite, which had been red from the cold, had healed and returned to its usual fair complexion.

The sleeping person's mouth was tightly closed, revealing a high nose bridge, then eyes, forehead, and hair. He carefully traced the features with his gaze.

Perhaps the underfloor heating was too hot, making it difficult for the person to breathe; their tightly closed mouth slowly opened a crack, letting in fresh air.

The warm light shone into the dim room, adding an unexpected touch of ambiguity.

Suddenly, a section of the sleeping person's side sank in, the shadow casting a flickering shadow that drew closer.

Chen Zhoumu reached out again, bracing himself on the sofa beside the other person, as if drawn by magic, he was now losing control of his actions.

Looking at the slightly open mouth, his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily, their breaths mingling; he could feel the other's breath on his face.

Chen Zhoumu's legs unconsciously wedged between the other's, his other hand gently covering the other's closed eyes.

Shen Yihan's words echoed in his mind again; he was now completely certain that the places he hadn't yet touched seemed to have been etched in his mind for an unknown amount of time.

His hand, resting on the eyes, trembled slightly.

Just before the lips touched, the hand braced on the sofa suddenly clenched, a sharp pain in his palm pulling him back to his senses.

He abruptly retreated to a safe zone. No, no, at least not now. So, he turned his face away from his target. He

lightly pressed his lips against the other's fair face for a fleeting moment, then immediately moved away. He slowly stood up, closed his eyes, and breathed.

How could he be so despicable, thinking such things when the other was completely unprepared?

A sigh filled the room. Then, he lifted Song Shi by the waist, gently placed him on the bed, covered him with the blanket, and then reached out to lift the other's chin,

closing his slightly parted lips.

Chen Zhoumu reached out and turned off the light beside the bed. Then, a soft sound came from the other side of the bed as the soft mattress began to sink under the weight of another person.

He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

The snow outside had stopped sometime earlier, and the curtains on the French windows had long been drawn.

The moon was shrouded in clouds, unable to emit light, but thankfully, before it was completely blocked, light shone through the gap in the curtains.

It shone on a boy who, like a thief, stole a kiss from another person's face.

Chen Zhoumu woke up early. Seeing the person lying beside him still fast asleep, he carefully got out of bed.

After washing up, he opened the door and went downstairs. Shen Qing was already sitting downstairs, not even looking up when she heard him, a book in her hand.

The sound of turning pages and her figure reached Chen Zhoumu's ears: "Two choices: one, send the person in your room back, and you leave for San Francisco today; two, go with him and never come back."

"Fine."

Shen Qing's veins throbbed, and she slammed the book on the table: "Chen Zhoumu!"

The person called didn't turn around, simply replying: "Anyway, without me, you can still find the Chen family heir, right?"

"Ha, is this your attitude? You're even giving up the Chen family for that Song family brat?"

Chen Zhoumu was the one she had disciplined most strictly since childhood, groomed as the Chen family heir from a young age, shaped by her painstaking efforts.

Shen Qing stood up and walked over, staring at Chen Zhoumu: "So, how much of my strength do you think the Song family can withstand? What do you think that Song family kid will choose?"

"I don't care." The voice came from above, and a figure slowly descended.

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