I had a child with the main lead chapter 26 PART 1
Chapter 26 part 1
The livestream was closed.
The click was an omen, as if countless eyes had closed, leaving only Tang Yue and Jiang Shulu in the room.
Tang Yue’s head was pulled from under the covers. His eyes, which looked like he had been crying, met Jiang Shulu’s without warning, blinking as if tears were about to fall.
The question made his breathing quicken, as if he were about to faint.
Jiang Shulu didn’t urge him, just stared at Tang Yue.
Watching the young man’s beautiful eyes shed glistening tears, like pearls rolling from a clam shell, Tang Yue lost his last layer of defense.
Tang Yue: “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He took a deep breath, subconsciously biting his lip, but Jiang Shulu pinched his chin before he could.
Jiang Shulu: “Don’t want to talk about it, or dare not talk about it? Or… can’t talk about it?”
For all these years, that vivid memory, which was both a beautiful dream and a nightmare, was it real or not?
Tang Yue called him “Captain,” his voice choked with emotion. He grabbed Jiang Shulu’s hand, trying to break free from his grip.
Jiang Shulu refused to let go.
The struggle left red marks on Tang Yue’s chin, making him even more like the Tang Yue in Jiang Shulu’s dream.
If the crying lasted a little longer, with a little more response, it might have been a perfect match.
Tang Yue looked at Jiang Shulu. The indentations of his teeth on his lips were still clearly visible in the light, trembling with his breath, easily igniting another person’s desire.
Tang Yue: “I can’t talk about it.”
Jiang Shulu released his hand, but prevented Tang Yue from turning away, as if suppressing him, like a predatory beast.
Jiang Shulu: “Why?”
In Jiang Shulu’s impression, Tang Yue wasn’t a crier. During their time in the group, Yao Lixin cried the most.
The “gayest straight man” had a fragile and sensitive heart, easily moved to tears by fans.
Occasionally, Jiang Shulu would be affected by the atmosphere, only to find that Tang Yue, surrounded by the cheers and lights of the audience, remained unmoved.
The young man looked at his own light board with unusual calmness.
Tang Yue wouldn’t cry from Liu Xichao’s ghost stories, nor from training injuries.
It seemed Tang Yue’s pain threshold was very high, ordinary scrapes and bruises couldn’t reach that critical point.
But at this moment, Jiang Shulu couldn’t help but wonder: Does he hurt now?
Tang Yue pursed his lips: “I’m scared.”
Jiang Shulu: “Scared of what?”
Tang Yue was always like this, answering one question at a time. The phrase “speak freely” always had a limited time effect for him. And Tang Yue had a strong sense of detachment, always giving Jiang Shulu the feeling that if he let him drift off, the person might disappear soon.
At this moment, Tang Yue’s heart was racing. He was pressed against the bed by Jiang Shulu, covered head to toe by the blanket, inevitably feeling the other’s body temperature.
It was very much like that night, the sudden accident, the warmth Tang Yue clung to in his final moments.
Tang Yue: “Scared of many… many things.”
He didn’t dare look at Jiang Shulu, turning his face away, putting on an indifferent expression again.
Jiang Shulu was amused: “You haven’t said anything. I’m asking if your secret is related to me.”
He turned over, the blanket enveloping them both, creating an atmosphere of exclusive secrecy in the mountain town house.
Even the hazy light of the bedside lamp was blocked out, preventing Tang Yue from seeing Jiang Shulu’s expression, but allowing him to feel his breath.
Jiang Shulu: “Just answer yes or no.”
Tang Yue: “Yes.”
Jiang Shulu didn’t expect him to be so straightforward this time, and asked again: “Can I know this secret?”
He guessed Tang Yue wouldn’t answer so easily.
Every breath under the covers easily stirred up boundless ambiguity. The blanket wasn’t large, and an occasional movement could let the faint light outside filter through.
Lightly outlining someone’s silhouette, making certain secrets also outlined, easily making one want to tear them open.
But Jiang Shulu was afraid of hurting Tang Yue, so he asked carefully, his voice so gentle that it made Tang Yue want to cry again.
Tang Yue: “Captain… why do you think that…?”
He sniffed, trying to curl up into a ball, but Jiang Shulu hugged him.
Jiang Shulu didn’t mention what Tang Yue said during the shower, but softly said: “I always dream about you.”
It was very quiet outside. The mountain town wasn’t like the big city. The two men, from their idol group days, had irregular schedules, the lights of the practice room, occasional all-nighters for activities.
They were always on the go, rehearsing endlessly for the stage.
After disbanding, Tang Yue’s schedule had adjusted.
Except for the period when Tang Mian was a newborn and needed round-the-clock care, Tang Yue later maintained a regular sleep schedule. In the remote mountain forest, he seemed to have returned to his life on Planet 9787.
Except for his uncontrollable dreams, everything else was more or less at his disposal.
Tang Yue had been trying to escape the outside world.
Even when Liang Yi said, “Can you cut off your longing by disconnecting from the internet?”, Tang Yue still insisted on locking himself away.
As if living under the same roof could mean not seeing each other, his core secret far exceeded Liang Yi’s imagination.
It formed the source of all Tang Yue’s anxieties.
Afraid of suddenly disappearing one day, afraid of leaving Tang Mian without a word.
So Tang Yue was always making backup plans, anticipating all possible scenarios of his departure, asking Liang Yi to take good care of Tang Mian.
Liang Yi always nodded, then added, “But I’m not another family member to Tang Mian. Aren’t you ever going to tell Jiang Shulu?”
Tang Yue avoided the question again.
But children grow up too fast. He couldn’t live in isolation in the mountains any longer, unseen like his extraterrestrial father.
Tang Mian needed peers, friends, and the nourishment of new things from the outside world.
Tang Yue had no choice but to finally agree to the variety show plan Liang Yi had presented.
At this moment, Tang Yue was completely sure that it was all Liang Yi’s scheme.
For example, to make him meet Jiang Shulu again.
Jiang Shulu: “This dream was a little…”
He didn’t know how to describe it. Saying “I had a dream like that with you” in front of the person involved was terrible.
Jiang Shulu hesitated for a long time, the usually composed and unflappable elite becoming stammering: “I dreamed about you and me, it was like… I was drunk or…”
“But even drunk, it shouldn’t be… I couldn’t tell if I had gone out, like I was looking for you, or…”
The other person in the bed suddenly blurted out: “Did you dream that I slept with you?”
Jiang Shulu:…
Jiang Shulu: “How did you sleep with me?”
After saying that, he seemed to suddenly understand, grabbing Tang Yue’s hand: “So it wasn’t a dream, right?”
The blanket was lifted again, and Tang Yue’s face was forcibly lifted by Jiang Shulu.
Tang Yue pretended to be calm and hummed, his heart still pounding. He refused to look at Jiang Shulu: “It wasn’t a dream. We did do that that day.”
Jiang Shulu: “Then why don’t I remember anything?”
Tang Yue: “Because you drank the drink someone gave me. It seemed to have…”
Tang Yue thought for a moment: “…something unhealthy in it.”
The dream was so wild, Jiang Shulu felt like he had taken drugs.
He actually had taken drugs, tormenting him like that. Tang Yue’s body was too soft.
Wait a minute.
Jiang Shulu: “Wasn’t I still in the dorm the next day?”
