Chapter 96: I Thought of It Myself
Little Wen Ling placed his stained red hand in front of his nose and sniffed. Cheng Ge’s nose was instantly filled with the scent of medicinal oil, mixed with the smell of blood—it was pungent, unpleasant, and even a bit nauseating.
Cheng Ge suddenly seemed to understand some things.
Little Wen Ling’s fist clenched tightly once more. Cheng Ge felt his chest; his heartbeat quickened, and both his terror and fear went up a level, as did his disgust.
With another Bang!, Cheng Ge felt as though the bones in his fingers had snapped.
But he couldn’t react to much right now; he only knew to stare blankly at Wen Ling—staring at Wen Ling’s hand as it punched the mirror.
The mirror cracked from under the fist, stained with blood.
Little Wen Ling glared at himself in the mirror, glaring at those large eyes, feeling even more fear and disgust in his heart.
Cheng Ge was heartbroken to death. He desperately wanted to hold Wen Ling tight, to tell him not to be afraid, not to hate himself.
But no matter what, he couldn’t hold the helpless and lost child before him. Every attempt at a hug was in vain.
This time, Cheng Ge’s process of exiting the dream was much calmer than usual. He was out as soon as he closed his eyes, yet he didn’t open them for a long time.
This was Wen Ling’s most ordinary and quiet dream, yet Cheng Ge felt it was oppressive, his heart aching with a wrenching pain.
He finally knew why Wen Ling had misconceptions about his own appearance, why he didn’t like looking in mirrors, why he hated red medicinal oil, and finally why he would stare at their group photo and say his eyes were so big, “It’s a bit scary.”
But he didn’t know why a young Wen Ling would be locked in a box, why his body would be covered in injuries, or why he would punch a mirror with a hand covered in blood without even blinking.
Didn’t it hurt? How could it not.
Why was Wen Ling so thin?
Cheng Ge held the person in his arms tight. Even though he had been taking care of him for a long time and he’d gained a bit of weight, he was still thin. Even though he was so tall, he still seemed like a small thing; he weighed almost nothing when held.
Perhaps because he was being held too tightly, Wen Ling shifted his body. The hand hugging Cheng Ge’s waist curled slightly, his warm little face rubbing against Cheng Ge’s neck as he let out a couple of muffled sleep-talks.
Only such intimate actions from Wen Ling allowed Cheng Ge to escape slightly from his oppressive emotions. He slowly lifted his eyelids, gazing at the person in his arms.
Cheng Ge’s gaze quietly traced Wen Ling’s features, gently stroking the places that had been injured in the dream and kissing them one by one. Finally, he also left a kiss on Wen Ling’s eyelids.
He arched his back and lowered his head. Their noses touched, rubbing carefully as he waited with closed eyes for the dawn.
Wen Ling slept very comfortably this time. When he woke up, it was already past eight, and the sun was hitting his backside.
Actually, Wen Ling had a habit of lingering in bed for a while after waking up. Of course, the prerequisite was that Cheng Ge was beside him. If there was no one by the bedside, he would get up to look. Once he found him, he’d hug him tight and then doze off against Cheng Ge’s back.
Wen Ling’s eyes were still closed as he reached out to feel beside him, but the bedding next to him was already cold.
He pouted slightly, feeling a bit unhappy and also somewhat uneasy. Opening his eyes, he looked around the room and immediately scanned Cheng Ge’s silhouette.
Wen Ling rolled over, pouncing on the bed. He slowly arched his back and poked his backside up, preparing to climb up.
But this process wasn’t very smooth. Halfway through arching his back, his upper butt was given a neither light nor heavy pat. The person doing it couldn’t be anyone but Cheng Ge, so Wen Ling didn’t get angry, taking the opportunity to flop back onto the bed.
Cheng Ge had noticed Wen Ling’s movements long ago. He turned down the power of the appliance, covered the lid, and came over to join the fun.
Every time he saw Wen Ling wake up like this, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He had never seen anyone wake up this way; it was like some unknown creature about to mutate.
Cheng Ge supported Wen Ling and flipped him over. Seeing his eyelids still drooping half-awake, he laughed softly: “If you’re tired, keep sleeping. Why are you forcing yourself?”
Wen Ling felt Cheng Ge’s hand, grabbing his wrist and moving up to grab his elbow. With Cheng Ge’s support and a hard pull, he sat up.
Cheng Ge leaned over, his lips kissing the corner of Wen Ling’s eye. Then he squeezed the back of Wen Ling’s neck. “Are you getting up now or not?”
Wen Ling squinted comfortably, tilting his head back to let his nose brush against Cheng Ge’s Adam’s apple without saying a word.
Cheng Ge felt it was itchy and also restless. When he stood up to dodge, he stumbled, and an extra “attachment” appeared on his body.
Wen Ling’s arms were circled around Cheng Ge’s neck, his legs hooked around his waist, hanging firmly on Cheng Ge like a koala. The distance between the two was even closer now.
“You gave me a start.” Cheng Ge held Wen Ling steadily, feeling uneasy. Just now, Wen Ling had hung on too suddenly. If Wen Ling hadn’t been very light, he really would have lost his footing and fallen straight down. Wen Ling would definitely have hit the bed; if his head hit the edge, would he still be able to keep his head?
“Next time, say something in advance. I might not stand steady. What if you hit your head? So impulsive, just like a child.”
Cheng Ge’s brow was furrowed, looking fierce as if he were scolding someone. But that tone was clearly one of worried indulgence. Moreover, Wen Ling’s head was resting on his shoulder, so he couldn’t even see Cheng Ge’s fake fierce expression.
Wen Ling heard Cheng Ge babble a lot and only replied with “I’m not a child,” nearly making Cheng Ge laugh out of anger.
“Good morning, Cheng Ge,” Wen Ling’s cheek rubbed against Cheng Ge’s ear as he suddenly said.
It sounded quite sudden, but linked to the “goodnight” Cheng Ge had proactively said last night, there was a trace to follow.
Mimicking him again.
“Good morning, good morning.”
Cheng Ge patted Wen Ling’s leg. “Get down first. I need to make breakfast. What does this look like?”
“Why does it have to ‘look like’ anything?” Wen Ling was perfectly justified.
Cheng Ge was amused by him: “How can I cook with you like this? The steam will spray all over you when I open the lid, right? It’ll scald you.”
Wen Ling knew he didn’t have much of a point, but he just had to be mushy with him for a while before he was willing to let go.
Cheng Ge complained about him being a “clingy spirit.”
The Wen Ling this morning was indeed excessively clingy, but Wen Ling was quite proud, not ashamed at all.
Wasn’t he infected by Cheng Ge?
If Cheng Ge hadn’t proactively kissed him first thing in the morning and been so intimate with him—babbling but clearly indulging him—he wouldn’t have the passion to be so unrestrained.
It seemed that after last night, something was different. Their relationship seemed more intimate—excessively so. Cheng Ge was still Cheng Ge, but he liked him even more now.
For breakfast, they had Wen Ling’s favorite egg and vegetable noodle soup. Wen Ling ate two bowls, feeling extremely satisfied.
After eating his fill, Cheng Ge washed the dishes on the balcony while Wen Ling walked back and forth behind him. “When are we going to pick up the glasses?”
Cheng Ge looked up at Wen Ling’s back-and-forth silhouette in the mirror and laughed. He spoke the truth with a hint of teasing: “You’re like an ant on a hot griddle.”
Wen Ling glanced at Cheng Ge. “You’re the ant.”
“Fine, fine, fine. I am, you’re not.”
Being different from Cheng Ge made Wen Ling unhappy. “Then I am too.”
Cheng Ge laughed, wanting to ask “How are you one again?”, but fearing the topic would never end, he didn’t argue with Wen Ling, saying “Yes, yes, yes.”
After a quick cleanup, the two left the dorm. In the elevator, Cheng Ge held Wen Ling’s hand. Wen Ling gave it a shake, then suddenly said with a mix of pride and silliness: “Our little life is going quite ‘moistly’ (comfortably).”
Initially, Cheng Ge misheard “little life” (Xiao Ri Zi) as “Little Japan” (Xiao Ri Ben), thinking Wen Ling was being inexplicable. Then he processed it for two seconds—and that processing was quite something. It nearly made him fall to the floor laughing.
Cheng Ge couldn’t hold back his laughter as he stepped out of the elevator. “I say, Comrade Xiao Wen, where did you learn these expressions?”
Wen Ling didn’t know what Cheng Ge was laughing at, but seeing Cheng Ge laugh made him want to laugh too. His eyes were sparkling. “I thought of it myself.”
That proud little tone.
“Collapsed, it’s collapsed. It’s completely collapsed.”
Wen Ling followed up with a question: “What’s collapsed?”
“Your character setting.”
Not to mention being cute and clingy—he used to be dazed too—that was collapsed enough. How had he become so funny now?
“You’re always talking about my character setting. What is a character setting? What is mine?”
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