DLRAS Chapter 40

Chapter 40: I want to cherish you.

Huo Niansheng hadn’t booked a private suite at this winery; the room he was staying in was a standard hotel-style king room.

Chen Wengang showed Huo Niansheng his phone.

The older brother sneered at the unknown number: “Making a fool of himself.”

He was talking about Huo Jingsheng.

Huo Jingsheng’s rotten idea was mocked by his older brother as playing cheap tricks. In his previous life, Chen Wengang had actually met this second young master of the Huo family—a man who couldn’t accomplish anything but was more than capable of ruining things, and who lacked any real guts. If it weren’t for the second uncle of the Huo family backing him up, he wouldn’t be able to throw his weight around.

But Huo Niansheng blamed Chen Wengang for being too bold—daring to follow just anyone who invited him. Fortunately, he had fallen into his hands today.

Chen Wengang had casually brought the tablet down with him; Huo Niansheng didn’t even glance at it and tossed it onto a chair.

The business world is like a battlefield. In their circles, planting hidden cameras and wiretaps was, to be honest, a common occurrence.

It was just that Huo Jingsheng had gone through Chen Wengang’s phone and even tracked his location.

Huo Niansheng pinned Chen Wengang to the bed and kissed his ear: “I’ll settle this score for you. How about I chop off his pinky finger?”

Chen Wengang laughed beneath him: “What kind of nonsense is that?”

Huo Niansheng lowered his head and took Chen Wengang’s thin lips in his own, sealing away the rest of his words. The gesture carried a hint of comfort. The two nuzzled against each other and exchanged a kiss.

When they had fooled around enough, Chen Wengang lay flat on his back, reaching out to gently trace from the bridge of his nose down to his chin. Huo Niansheng rolled over and lay on his side next to him, propping his head up with one hand while playing with Chen Wengang’s hair with the other, letting him carefully explore his face.

“You need to be careful of the people around you,” Chen Wengang said. “Young Master Huo’s family has a massive business and a lot of people. I’m afraid there are plenty of petty schemers, too.”

“Worried about me?”

“I’m a nobody, not worth scheming against. You’re different. It takes real skill to scheme against Young Master Huo.”

“Listen to that sarcasm.” Huo Niansheng finally caught the tone. “Sounds more like you’re scolding me.”

Chen Wengang was ticklish, and this ended with him curling his body and repeatedly begging for mercy.

Huo Niansheng used his thumb to wipe away the tears of laughter at the corners of his eyes.

Chen Wengang’s fingers finally came to rest on his brow bone, covering half of Huo Niansheng’s face.

He was mulling over how to say it, but Huo Niansheng’s wariness was like a double-edged sword. Just as those fair-weather friends couldn’t pry Chen Wengang’s name from Huo Niansheng’s mouth, Chen Wengang couldn’t coax out a chance to talk about the Huo family from him either.

In the end, he had to give up for the time being. Chen Wengang called his name: “Huo Niansheng.”

Huo Niansheng’s gaze deepened, his tone taking on an air of humble inquiry: “What is it?”

After a moment of hesitation, right before his eyes, slender fingers slowly undid the top button of his shirt.

The corners of Huo Niansheng’s mouth pulled into a curve.

He leaned close to his ear, carrying the faint scent of alcohol: “Don’t move. Let me serve you.”

Chen Wengang’s movements paused, his fingers still resting on the shell button he had just undone.

Huo Niansheng tucked the hair behind his ear and slowly trailed upward until he clasped that hand, gently tightening his grip.

He turned the tables, taking the lead. Holding Chen Wengang’s hand, he guided him to undo the remaining buttons one by one.

The atmosphere had hit just the right note. Suddenly, as Huo Niansheng raised his hand, Chen Wengang instinctively closed his eyes and flinched.

The defensive reflex was carved into his bones, even though he realized it immediately and opened his eyes.

Huo Niansheng had merely leaned his arm toward the nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out a small box.

Some emotions didn’t need words to be expressed.

He was strung as taut as a rusty spring.

Before the drawer was closed, it gaped open and swallowed the untouched box back inside.

With a click, Chen Wengang was the one who sat up first, grabbing his hand: “I…”

Huo Niansheng patted his arm and pulled his hand free: “If you don’t want to, get to sleep early.”

When is a man ever really not in the mood? It was just that the events of last time were still vivid in their minds, and both knew it well. It wasn’t that Huo Niansheng didn’t want him, nor did he demand perfect harmony, but it couldn’t be like this every time. If they continued today, how would it be any different from the last time?

He got out of bed on one side and went to the table to pour some water.

Just as he unscrewed the cap of the purified water bottle, two arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Chen Wengang pressed his forehead against his solid back: “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Huo Niansheng sighed: “Baby, I want to cherish you. The problem is, what exactly do you take me for?”

Chen Wengang opened his mouth. But his words said one thing and his body said another; Huo Niansheng didn’t really believe him.

Under the milky white light of the wall lamp, he lowered his eyelids again, his face cast in obscurity. He had heard that amputees suffered from phantom limb pain, and he wondered if burn victims experienced the same thing. Otherwise, why was there a faint tingling itch seeping from his bones, stinging slightly like a chronic, unhealed wound?

Huo Niansheng acutely perceived his silence.

He turned around and gave him a reasonably considerate goodnight kiss: “Let’s leave it for today, it’s too rushed. Next time, we’ll pick a better place.” After all, Huo Jingsheng had dragged him here out of nowhere, and Huo Niansheng didn’t want to make things difficult for him.

Chen Wengang pulled his neck down and kissed him, trying to make up for it: “…I’m sorry.”

Huo Niansheng said: “Don’t always apologize to others from now on. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

On the contrary, he could trample many people underfoot, but unfortunately, he wouldn’t. He didn’t use his own capital; he stayed in his lane and kept his hands clean. Huo Niansheng felt he was truly suited to be a scholar in the future, spending his whole life in an ivory tower, untainted by the dust of the world.

However, since the restlessness had been stirred, there were always other methods.

Huo Niansheng sealed his mouth with his lips.

Chen Wengang closed his eyes.

His eyelashes trembled slightly.

The dark night descended, like murmurs echoing in a dream.

It wasn’t their first time sharing a bed, yet tonight someone tossed and turned.

Finally, Huo Niansheng reached over with both hands and pulled him into his arms: “Can’t sleep?”

Chen Wengang rolled over, rested his head on Huo Niansheng’s chest, and listened to his heartbeat.

He settled down and didn’t change his position again, losing consciousness at some unknown point.

When he woke up again, the room was still pitch black, as if daylight had no intention of arriving.

Chen Wengang quietly got out of bed and pulled open the thick curtains. Instantly, the daylight burst in, and the clear morning light filled the entire room.

Unable to sleep any longer, Huo Niansheng came over and scooped him up behind the curtains: “Why are you up so early?”

Though there had been friction last night, after a night’s sleep, a new mood took over.

Besides, the morning brought its own stirrings. Chen Wengang wrapped his arms around his neck and let himself be manhandled: “I have an early class at school.”

Huo Niansheng rested his chin on his shoulder, his arms gradually tightening: “No rush… a driver will drop you off later.”

It was nearly an hour before they headed downstairs.

The winery provided a simple breakfast. Huo Niansheng used a different driver for himself; the driver had already finished eating and was waiting at the door, reading a newspaper.

Chen Wengang had refined table manners but didn’t eat slowly, hurriedly finishing off two sandwiches, since he was rushing for class, after all.

Huo Niansheng, however, barely took a few bites, twirling his fork and watching him almost the entire time.

Chen Wengang got up and poured two cups of black coffee. He casually dropped two creamers into one cup—this was for himself, as he hated bitterness. The black cup was for Huo Niansheng; Chen Wengang remembered his habit of drinking espresso.

Huo Niansheng lowered his head to sniff it, but frowned: “No sugar cubes?”

Chen Wengang was momentarily taken aback: “There are.” Without thinking too much, he asked, “Should I go get you some?”

He got up again and brought them over, but Huo Niansheng laughed: “No need, just asking. I never said I wanted to add any.”

Chen Wengang caught on and suddenly chuckled. Tilting his spoon, he forced a sugar cube to drop into his coffee.

Huo Niansheng picked up the cup and took a sip. A little more or a little less sugar wouldn’t kill anyone, but he rarely saw the person across from him reveal such an unclouded smile. He thought that Chen Wengang really ought to smile more; with a little more grooming, he could charm the masses.

The road back to the city was clear. Huo Niansheng and the driver took Chen Wengang to the university gates.

Upon reaching the destination, Chen Wengang got out of the car, but Huo Niansheng followed him out and pulled him into a hug.

The hug came a bit abruptly. Though Chen Wengang enjoyed it, he was surprised and instinctively hugged Huo Niansheng back.

Huo Niansheng whispered softly in his ear: “Good day.”

The morning class was a large lecture. Chen Wengang vaguely felt there was constant whispering behind him, along with darts of stares, but when he turned around, everyone acted as if nothing was happening.

During the break, the classmates behind him couldn’t hold it in any longer and finally tapped his shoulder: “Handsome, where did you go picking flowers so early in the morning?”

Chen Wengang was stunned. His classmates couldn’t help themselves anymore and burst into laughter, plucking a small white flower from the back of his collar.

Twirling the slender green stem, he finally realized what had happened and gave a helpless smile. He flipped open his notebook and tucked it deep between the pages.

But Huo Niansheng hadn’t arranged a time for their next meeting, hadn’t told him where he was going, and hadn’t asked him what other plans he had for today.

When things were good, the sky was bright and the earth was lovely; when they parted, it was clean and crisp, without the slightest hesitation.

He had other things to do after class, so Chen Wengang took a taxi to another location.

Today, Director Ma Wen had called him in for a meeting.

The charity foundation Ma Wen worked for was fully named the “Houren Foundation.” It had a regular charitable partnership with the Zheng Foundation, which was how Chen Wengang knew him from high school. After organizing that book donation event during graduation season last time, Chen Wengang’s connection with him was even closer than in his previous life.

Ma Wen had always thought highly of this young man.

Even though they had known each other for a few years, Chen Wengang used to give off an introverted and silent impression, always working quietly and lacking in self-expression.

But people grow up, and Ma Wen had witnessed this process. He had personally taught the adolescent Chen Wengang many things, back from when he came to do volunteer work to fulfill school requirements; in the blink of an eye, he was now approaching university graduation.

Especially during their recent meetings, Ma Wen felt more and more that Chen Wengang had changed a lot, as if he had made a sudden leap.

It wasn’t in a bad way; rather, it was a mature and steady poise that came from deep accumulation, now shining through.

In addition, what this bearded man had told Qi Tongzhou before was also the truth—

So-called talent was always in short supply; to put it plainly, they lacked manpower.

Charity projects, in particular, had a unique nature; they were short of people with professional skills who were, above all, dependable.

Therefore, Ma Wen was intent on bringing Chen Wengang onto the project team. He believed no one was more suitable than this young man.

The Houren Foundation had a mature matrix of charitable projects. In recent years, Ma Wen’s work focus was on the medical care and nursing project for sick orphans, with a particular emphasis on the diagnosis, treatment, and rescue of children with cognitive impairments like intellectual disabilities, autism, and Down syndrome, as well as support projects for related medical industries. Preparing to establish a designated special education school was one part of this.

His own energy was limited; naturally, it was impossible to manage every aspect. Currently, he temporarily served as the school principal, but he needed a long-term plan in increments of five or ten years. If possible, Chen Wengang was a promising seedling worth promoting in his mind.

He wasn’t dropping him into a leadership position right now because he was young, not to mention he had plans to pursue a master’s degree later. Ma Wen supported him in continuing his education first; getting a higher degree was certainly a good thing. For the first few years, he could join the team part-time and do some management work. This wasn’t an uncommon situation; NGOs generally didn’t have many full-time employees, and many organizations were propped up by volunteers.

Today’s discussion meeting was to refine some management regulations, and the recruitment of teachers and caregivers was also put on the agenda.

When Chen Wengang interacted with him as a colleague, Ma Wen sometimes had the illusion that they had already been working together for years, as many of the ideas he proposed coincided exactly with his own. Perhaps this was just meant to be.

After the meeting, Ma Wen wanted to introduce a new member of the expert committee to Chen Wengang, saying he was a consultant in the field of child psychology.

Chen Wengang accompanied him to the reception room, where he saw a lean but sharp middle-aged man.

That face, lined with crow’s feet, was even a familiar one, currently looking down and flipping through a newspaper at the magazine rack.

Ma Wen threw an arm around Chen Wengang’s shoulders and introduced them to each other: “This is Mr. Qiao Sijin…”

The other man also froze for a moment, then cracked a joke to Chen Wengang mildly but not without a touch of sternness: “Student, where is your school badge?”

Chen Wengang instinctively reached up to touch his chest, making the man laugh even harder. Catching on, Chen Wengang couldn’t help but laugh too. What a coincidence. Turning the tables, he introduced him to Ma Wen: “This was the dean of discipline at our high school.” Reverence for teachers was carved into his bones, after all, especially one in charge of discipline and grooming; even his tone of questioning was a few degrees more respectful. “How have you been lately?”

Qiao Sijin didn’t put on any airs, leaning forward to shake his hand: “Don’t worry, I resigned last year, and you graduated long ago. There’s no reason to be afraid of me anymore. I’m currently working as a full-time preacher while also pursuing a PhD in child psychology.”

With this teacher-student connection, the atmosphere lightened up.

Qiao Sijin was very pleased, telling Ma Wen: “I still have an impression of Wengang. He was an obedient student, though he also broke the rules when he was in school. Although I punished him when he deserved it, even back then I knew he would definitely accomplish something in the future.”

Chen Wengang answered modestly. Generally, he didn’t care about the gazes of outsiders, having long since trained himself to remain unfazed by favor or disgrace. However, seeing his former teacher holding an entertainment newspaper featuring his gossip, it was still hard not to feel a bit abashed—it was a free subway ad paper, likely out of date. On it, one could spot at a glance the old news of Huo Niansheng gifting a yacht to win the favor of a certain young master surnamed Chen.

Qiao Sijin hadn’t noticed, casually putting the newspaper back as he chatted with them.

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