Part 3
“I haven’t forgotten,” Jiang Zhaosheng interrupted. “I’ll remember the favor. But right now, please leave my home immediately.”
Shang Yan stared at him for a few seconds before suddenly laughing, seemingly not surprised. He straightened his collar and stepped outside. As he passed Jiang Zhaosheng, he lowered his voice:
“The scent of blood and the aura of danger on that man can’t be hidden. Jiang Zhaosheng, don’t play with fire and get burned.”
Having said that, he didn’t stay a second longer and left directly.
The door closed once more.
Jiang Zhaosheng leaned his back against the door and slowly slid down to the floor, finally getting a moment of peace.
He looked at the still-warm living room as the sound of the shower came from the bathroom, feeling a sense of unprecedented exhaustion.
Qin Yichuan dawdled as he moved into the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, shutting out the annoying Alpha aura, he immediately took a deep breath.
The air was filled with a faint, clear fragrance of citrus mixed with lavenderâlikely the scent of the body wash and shampoo Jiang Zhaosheng normally used.
The scent drifted into his nose, stirring his heart. His mind uncontrollably flashed to the alluring scenes from the warehouseâJiang Zhaoshengâs skin flushed from the heat, his wet black hair clinging to the side of his neck, tears like tiny diamonds sliding down his cheeks…
Dammit, why was his crying so beautiful?
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He felt the fire heâd just suppressed starting to rise again. To distract himself, he quickly stripped off the wrinkled shirt and pants that were covered in blood and dust, tossed them into the laundry basket with disgust, and turned on the shower.
The warm water washed over him, making the scent belonging to Jiang Zhaosheng in the bathroom even richer.
Qin Yichuan closed his eyes, letting the water hit his face as he calculated how to “repay” Jiang Zhaosheng for those two slaps laterâat least he had to collect some interest, like pinning him to the sofa to let him taste the feeling of a “pounding heart” and being unable to resist…
Seeing him in his current “vulnerable housewife” state, they used to be evenly matched, but he probably couldn’t beat him now even if they fought.
This thought made Qin Yichuan feel much better, and he even started humming a tune.
However, when he finished his shower, turned off the tap, and reached for a bath towel, his hand met thin air.
Qin Yichuan: “…”
He turned his head stiffly to look at the towel rackâit was completely empty.
Only a dark grey long towel that looked frequently used hung on the side, emitting the faint scent of Jiang Zhaoshengâs hair.
Clearly, this was Jiang Zhaoshengâs own hair towel.
There were no clean bath towels, at least none within reach.
Qin Yichuan cursed softly. He couldn’t go out in those dirty clothes, nor could he walk around naked in front of Jiang Zhaoshengâbut wrapping someone else’s hair towel around his waist would have the same result as being naked.
Forget it, I’ll just buy him a new one.
After a few seconds of hesitation, he eventually grit his teeth and grabbed that slightly damp towel.
The towel was long but not wide enough. He barely managed to wrap it around his waist, just enough to cover the vital areas, revealing his well-defined abs and Apollo’s belt. The mirror reflected his tall, upright figure clad only in an ambiguous towel, his wet black hair still dripping. Qin Yichuan was quite satisfied.
How could this look not be considered “effortlessly cool”… as long as Jiang Zhaosheng is still into men, he wouldn’t have the heart to get angry with me, right?
Qin Yichuan adjusted his expression in front of the mirror, trying to put on a slightly wicked smileâafter all, Jiang Zhaosheng liked the “mature man” type.
He even imagined the reaction Jiang Zhaosheng would have upon seeing him like thisâsurprise? Embarrassment? Or… another two slaps?
With no outsiders present, he wouldn’t give Jiang Zhaosheng any face. He would grab his arms, pin them together against the wall, wedge his knee between the other’s thighs, and then…
With a bit of malicious expectation, Qin Yichuan pulled open the bathroom door and spoke in a deliberately deep voice: “Zhaozhao, where do you keep the bath towels?”
“Don’t blame me. I couldn’t find one, so I had to use yours…”
His words stopped abruptly.
The expected scene of Jiang Zhaoshengâs embarrassment or anger didn’t materialize.
The living room was abnormally quiet.
Jiang Zhaosheng wasn’t moving about, nor was he sitting on the sofa. He was slumped over on the soft wool carpet in the living room, his body curled up. It seemed he had lost his strength after struggling to move from the doorway.
Qin Yichuanâs heart skipped a beatâ
“Jiang Zhaosheng?!”
He practically lunged over, his knees hitting the carpet hard, though he didn’t feel the pain. His hand trembled as he touched Jiang Zhaoshengâs cheekâit was burning hot, the temperature scorching his fingertips.
Jiang Zhaoshengâs eyes were tightly shut, his long, thick lashes casting shadows on his face. His hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his skin. The face that was usually cold and distant, or filled with mockery, was currently flushed with an extremely abnormal hue. His breathing was hurried and scorching.
A rich, sweet, and incredibly alluring rose fragrance was irrepressibly emanating from Jiang Zhaosheng, powerfully sweeping through the entire living room, instantly overpowering the faint scent of body wash from the bathroom.
“Jiang Zhaosheng… whatâs wrong with you?”
The person on the floor let out an unconscious, tiny moan of pain. His feverish body trembled slightly, causing the rose scent to grow even richer, like a rose burning madly as it bloomed to its limit.
He tried to help Jiang Zhaosheng up, finding that the other’s body was incredibly soft, and the dense rose scent almost drowned him.
Qin Yichuanâs mind went blank. The arrogance during the standoff with Shang Yan, those stupid schemes, and his childish jealousy now seemed utterly ridiculous.
The moment he leaned down, sliding his arm under the crook of Jiang Zhaoshengâs knees to lift him up.
The curled figure moved. Perhaps it was the slight coolness of the lingering moisture on Qin Yichuanâs skin, or the unconscious attraction of the Alpha pheromones… in his painful state of chaos, Jiang Zhaosheng tilted his head up like a sacrifice, his scorching lips happening to graze the Alphaâs exposed, water-beaded Adam’s apple.
He left a kiss as light as a feather.
[Authorâs Note: Shang Yan: I told you all men are big bad wolves. Jiang Zhaoshengâs pseudo-heat stateâthat scent is a “fox” perfume; itâs a sweet, delicate rose. Don’t worry, it’ll get better later. (.) [Rabbit head with ears up]]
Translator’s Note: “No buried gold here” (ć¤ĺ°ć éśä¸çžä¸¤ – cÇ dĂŹ wĂş yĂn sÄn bÇi liÇng) is a famous idiom about a man who buried money and put up a sign saying “no money here,” thus giving himself away. Poor Qin Yichuan is really in over his head! The “Apollo’s belt” (äşşéąźçşż – rĂŠnyĂş xiĂ n) refers to the V-shaped muscles in the lower abdomen. See you in the next chapter.
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