Chapter 11 In the courtyard at night, cicadas chirped in waves, their sound standing out sharply against the silence. Ming Huai wished something would quickly put an end to this eerie quiet. He had no idea how long Ji Tingqian had been standing there, nor how much he had heard. In situations like this, the unknown was the most terrifying. After a moment's thought, Ming Huai made up his mind. He forced a smile as if nothing had happened and took the initiative to greet him: "Brother Ji, what brought you out here?"
Ji Tingqian still looked down at Ming Huai, standing motionless. His gaze was hard to read—whether it was scrutiny, assessment, or both, Ming Huai couldn't tell. Under such an intense stare, Ming Huai felt extremely uneasy. Though his face remained composed, his hands and feet didn't know where to go. After another two minutes, he could no longer maintain his smile; soon, the corners of his mouth drooped. Not far away, Lin Zhimeng heard the commotion. One glance at the situation between Ming Huai and Ji Tingqian told her that they must have overheard those earlier words. A hint of schadenfreude flickered across her face. She glanced at Ming Huai, then flashed a sweet smile.
"Brother Ji."
Ji Tingqian nodded in response. Instantly, Ming Huai felt embarrassed. He didn't care about Lin Zhimeng's attitude, but Ji Tingqian's mattered deeply to him.
"Let's go,"
Ji Tingqian's low voice sounded above Ming Huai's head. Ming Huai snapped back to attention in surprise, lifting his eyes to look at Ji Tingqian. There was no particular expression on the other man's face, yet it seemed he was speaking to him. So, had he actually heard what Lin Zhimeng said? Thinking Ming Huai hadn't heard, Ji Tingqian frowned slightly.
"Back to the room. Do you want to stay out here feeding mosquitoes?"
"N-no,"
Ming Huai shook his head. As soon as Ming Huai finished speaking, Ji Tingqian turned and headed inside. Ming Huai hurried to follow, while Lin Zhimeng's face shifted between green and white; gritting her teeth, she trailed after them as well. Back in the room, Ming Huai kept a reasonably appropriate distance from Ji Tingqian. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fixed his gaze on Ji Tingqian, who was organizing things nearby. Contrary to his calm exterior, his mind churned with endless thoughts. Should he explain or not? Anyone could misunderstand him, but not Ji Tingqian. The main issue was that Ming Huai wasn't sure whether Ji Tingqian had actually heard anything. If he hadn't, then any explanation would only seem unnecessary.
"Ji Tingqian."
The moment the name left his lips, Ming Huai realized with a start that he had spoken aloud the very words swirling in his mind. Feeling he had misspoken, he wanted to awkwardly say it was nothing, but Ji Tingqian stopped what he was doing. After placing a piece of clothing into the wardrobe, he turned and asked, "What is it?"
Ji Tingqian's expression remained unreadable. Sometimes Ming Huai loved this demeanor of his to death; other times, he found it utterly frustrating. Each time, he felt it was incredibly sexy, yet occasionally, that same feeling made him realize he couldn't fathom what the other man was thinking. Ming Huai nudged the floor with his toe, twisting the hem of his pajamas as he asked, "Did you hear anything?"
"Mm."
Ming Huai was thoroughly startled. He hadn't expected Ji Tingqian to answer so quickly, as if without a second thought. Such frankness left him unsure how to form his sentences; anything he said now seemed pale and entirely unconvincing.
"Everything Lin Zhimeng said was false,"
Ming Huai finally managed to squeeze out. Ji Tingqian stood up, causing Ming Huai's heart to tighten. But instead of leaving, Ji Tingqian walked around the foot of the bed to the other side, lifted the blanket, and lay down. For no particular reason, Ming Huai felt disheartened. Did all of this mean nothing to Ji Tingqian? Was it possible the other man simply didn't care? After the lights were turned off, Ming Huai lay awake for a long time, eyes open. He glanced at the person beside him, whose eyes were tightly shut, while countless thoughts raced through his mind. After a while, Ming Huai carefully got up, intending to take a few pills. But just as he sat up, the person who should have been asleep spoke: "What are you doing?"
"Huh?"
Ming Huai hadn't expected Ji Tingqian to still be awake. His voice was low.
"Did I disturb you?"
"No,"
Ji Tingqian slowly opened his eyes.
"I haven't fallen asleep yet."
Ming Huai didn't move further. Remaining seated, he looked at Ji Tingqian, unable to find a topic for a long while.
Finally, he chuckled softly and asked, "Why can't you sleep either?"
Ji Tingqian always seemed to be on a different wavelength from Ming Huai. He said something completely unrelated to what Ming Huai had just mentioned.
"I know it's fake."
"What's fake?" Ming Huai asked, slightly confused.
"The things Lin Zhimeng said."
The room fell into dead silence. Ming Huai leaned against the headboard, his expression complicated.
Suddenly, there was a rustle in the room; Ji Tingqian found himself pinned beneath Ming Huai, their lips meeting in a kiss. He felt his lip gently bitten—not painfully, but like a cat lightly scratching at his heart. Then he heard Ming Huai whisper, "Not everything was fake."
"Wanting to climb into your bed was real."
Ji Tingqian looked up at the young man hovering over him. There was a hint of distress on Ming Huai's face. He couldn't deny that upon hearing Ming Huai's words, a secret joy had risen within him, yet reason quickly pulled that wayward emotion back into line. His voice remained calm.
"Ming Huai, you are the father of a three-year-old child. You shouldn't do this."
Shouldn't do what? What exactly shouldn't he do? Ming Huai paused, stunned. After a long moment, he bit his lip and climbed off Ji Tingqian. Lying back on the pillow and staring at the ceiling, he tried to calm his emotions. Darkness always made it easier to hide one's feelings. Ming Huai felt he was truly going mad, yet reason reminded him to take things slowly.
"I was just joking,"
he heard another version of himself say in a light-hearted tone. The next morning, Ming Huai woke up earlier than Ji Tingqian. Upon waking, he wasn't sure how they had ended up sleeping, but somehow he had drifted into Ji Tingqian's arms. Looking up, he noticed the camera was already recording, and immediately felt a headache coming on. This footage definitely needed to be discussed with the director to ensure it wouldn't be broadcast; otherwise, chaos would ensue. Ming Huai carefully got out of bed without disturbing Ji Tingqian. After finishing his washroom routine and returning, he found Ji Tingqian still asleep. He assumed it was simply because they had gone to bed too late last night. However, after Ming Huai went out for a short walk and returned to the room, Ji Tingqian remained motionless on the bed. That's when Ming Huai realized something was wrong. His intuition proved accurate.
Walking to the bedside, Ming Huai placed his palm against Ji Tingqian's forehead. The temperature beneath his hand had deviated from normal.