Contract Couple – CH29

Chapter 29

When Fang Jing Yao got home, he went straight to his computer — just in time to hear the “ding” of a completed download.

He slipped into the study, secretly opened the file, and watched carefully with the sound off.

Zhuo Yifan hadn’t sent many videos, but the quality was exceptional. There was even a Thai romance film — good-looking leads, nice builds. One of them, with glasses, even resembled Long Yu a little. Fang Jing Yao picked that one and hit play. The start was cute — studying together, chatting like a couple — but ten minutes in, things got… passionate. Their “study session” turned into something much more intense.

Fang Jing Yao was completely absorbed when a sudden knock came at the door — thump thump — and before he could react, the door opened.

He jumped in panic, scrambling to close the video player — but too late; Long Yu saw it.

Long Yu stepped in, carrying a tray of fruit, glanced at the screen, and Fang Jing Yao blurted out nervously, “I—uh—I’m studying human anatomy today! Hahaha!”

Long Yu asked calmly, “That’s the one Yifan sent you?”

Fang Jing Yao: “…”

He had prepared a dozen excuses — even the shameless “I’m studying anatomy for art reference” one — but this question completely threw him off. He almost choked on his own breath.

He forced a smile. “Yifan… sent it to you too?”

Long Yu set the fruit on the table, smiling. “He did. I haven’t watched mine yet. But since you already have it, I don’t need to download it. Copy it for me later.”

Fang Jing Yao stared at him, wronged but unable to refuse. “…Fine.”

Long Yu chuckled, leaned over the back of Fang Jing Yao’s chair, and kissed him lightly. “Next time, we’ll watch together. Always good to… learn something.”

The heat faded from Fang Jing Yao’s cheeks, and his shamelessness returned. He looked up. “Then, Dr. Long — when do you plan to practice?”

Long Yu kissed him again, smiling. “In due time.”

Fang Jing Yao, not giving up, brushed his hand along Long Yu’s waist — smooth, firm muscle under his palm — tempting enough to make his heart race. “How about you let me… try?” he whispered.

Long Yu only answered with a gentle kiss and a soft laugh.

Fang Jing Yao poked him twice in the stomach, like a mischievous child seeking payback.

Long Yu pinched Fang Jing Yao’s ear affectionately and murmured near his ear, “Wait a bit longer… until we’re married.”

The quiet, tender tone made Fang Jing Yao’s head spin — the little fire in his heart soothed once again. He tilted his head up for another kiss, which Long Yu gladly gave — a light peck on his chin, then a deep kiss that lingered.

After Long Yu left, Fang Jing Yao lost interest in finishing the video. He turned off the computer, grabbed his sketchbook, and began to doodle absentmindedly.

His mind was full of thoughts of Dr. Long.

They had lived together for some time now, and though both were in their twenties, Fang Jing Yao could tell that Long Yu had needs — but also that he was deliberately holding back, waiting for something. It was as if he had set a boundary in his heart, and wouldn’t cross it until the time felt right.

Fang Jing Yao didn’t understand this monk-like restraint. He was someone who followed his emotions — when he was happy, he wanted to share it right away, especially with Long Yu. But clearly, Dr. Long wasn’t ready to share everything yet.

Dr. Long could be so capable — so why not with him?

Frowning, Fang Jing Yao sketched absently until the outline of a man appeared — a slender figure in a white coat, a stethoscope in his pocket, sharp and elegant features, cold and refined. Even with a few lines, it was clearly the image of an attractive doctor.

The doctor on the page looked slightly stern, distant even — the type who seemed impossible to approach.

Fang Jing Yao looked at the drawing and couldn’t help but laugh softly, poking the doctor’s drawn face with his finger.

Dr. Long always felt like ice — clean, untouchable, carrying a chill that kept people at a respectful distance. He could reject people without hesitation — polite, composed, and utterly detached. His background meant he could fit into any setting with ease, and his talent and accomplishments let him live life entirely on his own terms.

He was, in every sense, exceptional — almost a model person. Fang Jing Yao had never met someone like him: gifted, disciplined, meticulous. Compared to his brilliance, Long Yu’s small quirks — like his aloofness — didn’t matter at all. In fact, Fang Jing Yao realized how lucky he was that Long Yu even let him into his personal world at all — judging from Han Qiaoye and the others’ reactions, that alone was extraordinary.

Fang Jing Yao sighed, running his fingers over the drawing. He’d have to work harder — much harder — if he wanted to truly belong in Dr. Long’s carefully guarded little world.

The sketchbook was full of scattered creative notes and small ideas — snippets of scenes, plants, leaves. He had doodled Long Yu on a blank spot earlier, and now couldn’t bear to move it elsewhere. Instead, he added a few shining stars around him, as if the doctor himself glowed.

Fang Jing Yao closed the sketchbook, kissed the cover, and smiled. “You can stay right here.”

Living together meant being influenced by each other in countless small ways.

Fang Jing Yao’s schedule gradually shifted — he used to draw late at night, but working in the morning turned out to be far more productive. After submitting the commission for Luo Yi, he only had a few magazine illustrations left, which he quickly finished. The rest of his time was split evenly between planning his new project — and thinking about Dr. Long.

Long Yu was always busy, often on night shifts. Since he’d just joined the hospital — and as a high-profile hire — he naturally received more attention and a heavier workload. Fang Jing Yao began to feel sorry for him.

So he decided — he’d start doing more, and treat Dr. Long even better.

When there’s someone special in your heart, your gaze can’t help but circle around them — their habits, their likes and dislikes — you come to know them clearly and completely.

Fang Jing Yao gradually discovered some of Long Yu’s little secrets. Long Yu couldn’t handle spicy food, but even if he accidentally ate something spicy, he wouldn’t spit it out. He would just frown slightly, then slowly swallow it down. He preferred lighter flavors, liked his steamed fish with lemon. His hobbies were broad — he dabbled in many things — but his true passion seemed to be fishing. He even collected fishing rods, and at home there were a few photos of him and friends out sea fishing.

Those were among the rare few photos of Dr. Long’s face, which made them all the more precious. In them, he held up the fish he caught with one hand, and though the brim of his hat shadowed his face, you could still see the faint upward curve of his lips — a subtle, genuine smile.

Fang Jing Yao snapped photos of those pictures with his phone, saved them in his gallery, and admired them gleefully. Then he looked up information on fishing and called Chen Xi.

“Can you help me keep an eye out for a good fishing rod on the market?” Fang Jing Yao asked.

“Hand rod or casting rod?”

Fang Jing Yao froze, thought for a while, and said, “I’m not sure… maybe the kind you can use for sea fishing? Something sturdy?”

Chen Xi immediately recognized a beginner when he heard one and snorted. “Sturdy, huh? Definitely a newbie. You don’t even sound convincing pretending. Fine, just tell me who it’s for, and I’ll get you one.”

Fang Jing Yao didn’t want to admit it was a surprise for Long Yu. He grinned and said, “It’s for me. My new hobby.”

Chen Xi laughed. “So that’s why you haven’t been out playing basketball or singing lately — you’ve turned into an old man who likes fishing?”

Fang Jing Yao protested, “What’s wrong with fishing? Fishing cultivates the spirit.” The two had been close since childhood — practically brothers. Chen Xi had just gotten married not long ago, and Fang Jing Yao had actually started officially dating Long Yu thanks to that wedding. Now that he was looking forward to his own married life, he asked curiously, “So how’s married life? You happy? Must be blissful having a wife, huh?”

Chen Xi gave a bitter smile. “Don’t even start. My wife’s about to kick me out.”

“What? Why?” Fang Jing Yao was shocked. They had been together for years and finally tied the knot — how could they be fighting now? His wife seemed so gentle and soft-spoken, not the type to make trouble.

He probed, “Did you mess up? Your bar’s always full of people, and you’ve got live singers there, right? Did you get tangled up with someone?”

“Bullshit!” Chen Xi snapped.

Fang Jing Yao blinked. “Then what is it?”

Chen Xi sighed, frustrated. “I don’t know either. Everything was fine before — I’d come home from work and dinner would be hot on the table. But lately, I go home and forget dinner, she won’t even look at me without picking a fight. One moment it’s about the range hood being broken and choking her to tears, saying I never fix it. Then it’s me coming home too late, disturbing her sleep. Last night, she wouldn’t even let me in the bedroom, said I snore too loud. Seriously, we’ve lived together for years — she’s just now realizing I snore? She used to be fine with it! Why can’t she stand it now? Jing Yao, do you think my wife’s fallen out of love with me?”

“Don’t slander a good police officer,” Fang Jing Yao said solemnly. “That’s defamation.”

“…”

Chen Xi felt miserable. He couldn’t complain to his wife, and even his brother wasn’t reliable — was there no one left to listen to him vent?!

Still, Fang Jing Yao tried to comfort him, saying a few kind words — until, inevitably, he started bragging again. “See, you just have to communicate more. I don’t have that kind of problem with Long Yu.”

Chen Xi knew about their relationship, and as someone now tormented by a lovey-dovey couple, he sneered, “Shut up, you dog in love.”

“Hehehe~” Fang Jing Yao chuckled.

Though Chen Xi had started out complaining, after a while even his tone turned bragging. “Just wait — a few years down the road when you’re married, let’s see if you still don’t fight. My wife’s gentle, right? At home she pinches me all the time. I can’t even go to bed without her checking whether I’ve washed my feet. And if I move too much while sleeping, she’ll smack me. My waist’s covered in bruises!”

“…You shut up too,” Fang Jing Yao muttered.

After hanging up, he went out to buy groceries. When he got back, he soaked the vegetables in water and started a video call with Zhuo Yifan.

He glanced at his apprentice — and the cat. The yellow cat now lived with Zhuo Yifan and had grown quite attached to him. The two of them barely fit in the camera together. But as soon as Huang Bao’er heard Fang Jing Yao’s voice, it began sniffing around for him, nudging the phone and meowing sweetly.

“Bao’er, did you eat yet?” Fang Jing Yao asked.

Zhuo Yifan held up the cat proudly. “Yeah, look, Master — belly’s all round! Oh, Master, why doesn’t Huang Bao’er live with your parents?”

Fang Jing Yao, phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he washed vegetables, replied, “That apartment’s old — no elevator. My mom’s knees aren’t great; she had minor surgery two years ago, so climbing stairs hurts. They moved into a newer place with an elevator. Bao’er grew up here and refuses to move. Even though both apartments are in the same complex, it won’t budge — you can’t even carry it away. So my mom just comes by every day to feed it and visit. She walks over morning and evening.”

Zhuo Yifan laughed. “No wonder it’s so fat — spoiled to death! But such a scaredy-cat, too. Last time I opened the door for a delivery, it jumped and ran straight into the bedroom.”

“Exactly,” Fang Jing Yao chuckled. “It’s the most cowardly thing in the house — thinks everyone’s out to kidnap it.”

Zhuo Yifan scratched under its chin, and Bao’er tilted its head up, purring contentedly.

“Yifan, I bought some groceries but didn’t plan the menu. What should I make?” Fang Jing Yao showed him the ingredients over video: baby bok choy, spinach, crown daisy, some shiitake mushrooms, an opened pack of asparagus, and a block of tofu — all piled messily in a basin.

“Make baby bok choy soup, stir-fry the mushrooms and greens… got shrimp? Then do jade tofu with shrimp,” Zhuo Yifan said. “Wait — you washed the tofu?”

“Yeah,” said Fang Jing Yao, surprised. “Aren’t you supposed to?”

“Just rinse it with water,” Zhuo Yifan sighed. “You used hot water, didn’t you? It’s all crumbled now… Never mind, just make do.”

“Oh,” Fang Jing Yao said sheepishly, following his directions.

It wasn’t a bad setup — video call guidance from his apprentice. With Zhuo Yifan talking him through, he managed to whip up a few dishes that actually looked passable. Not as delicious as Long Yu’s cooking, of course, but they had a nice homemade warmth. Fang Jing Yao tasted them himself and felt quite pleased. Zhuo Yifan, however, fussed over the plating, nagging him to rearrange things. Eventually, Fang Jing Yao hung up on him, humming as he brought the dishes to the dining table — right on time to wait for Long Yu’s return.

Long Yu called around seven to say he had to stay late for surgery, and by the time he came home, it was already nine.

Fang Jing Yao hadn’t eaten; he’d been waiting. When Long Yu came in, he stood up and said, “You’re back? Wait a sec, I’ll reheat the food.”

“You cooked?” Long Yu sounded surprised.

“Yeah.”

Long Yu followed him into the kitchen, watching him heat up the dishes. “You can cook?”

“What, you think I don’t have hands?” Fang Jing Yao rubbed his nose sheepishly. “It’s not as good as yours, but edible. Just been sitting too long — not as fresh now.”

The reheated greens were a bit wilted and dull. Long Yu sat across from him and ate slowly. Fang Jing Yao kept sneaking glances at his expression. Sensing it, Long Yu looked up and winked. “It’s good,” he said with a smile.

Fang Jing Yao grinned back.

Long Yu finished his meal carefully, almost ceremoniously, which made Fang Jing Yao a little embarrassed.

After dinner, Long Yu took a few phone calls — probably hospital matters. He hadn’t even changed out of his work clothes before stepping out onto the balcony to talk quietly. From the tone, something urgent might come up and require him to go back.

Fang Jing Yao waited in the living room, eyes fixed on him. When Long Yu finally came back and changed into pajamas, he asked, “You’re not going out again?”

“Not for now,” Long Yu said. “The new patient’s very young — ventricular septal defect, plus some complications. Needs observation… but the chief’s on duty tonight, so it should be fine.”

Fang Jing Yao didn’t really understand all that medical talk, but he offered comforting words anyway. As it was getting late, he went to wash up, brushing his teeth and then handing Long Yu his toothbrush, already squeezed with toothpaste.

With a mouthful of foam, he mumbled, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. The city hospital’s cardiothoracic department’s the best… huh?”

Long Yu had wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing the tip of his ear, chuckling softly. “Nothing. Just thinking how happy I am right now.”

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