Chapter 20: I’m Very Busy
Jiang Rong did not resist He Siming’s kiss. In fact, a faint sense of delight rose in his heart at the other man taking the initiative to kiss him.
He didn’t know whether this was due to pheromones at work, but it was already the fifth day since his heat had ended. Any pheromones that should have been expended were long gone, so the likelihood of pheromones causing this was low. Then why?
He felt anticipation toward He Siming’s kisses—he liked kissing He Siming.
The scent of lime gradually invaded Jiang Rong’s nose, indulging He Siming as he encroached upon his lips.
He Siming found the fruit plate in the way. Taking advantage of a brief moment, he set it aside on the kitchen counter, one hand bracing Jiang Rong’s waist as he pressed him down and kissed him thoroughly, inside and out. It was like savoring a sweet, juicy white peach—one bite pierced the thin skin, juice bursting in his mouth, sweetness and fragrance spreading everywhere, the juice sliding from the corners of their mouths.
Jiang Rong responded to He Siming. While the other was tasting the peachy sweetness, he too was drawing in the fresh scent of lime. Perhaps his response was as green and tender as a young apple, but he used the tip of his tongue to lick little by little, touching, responding bit by bit, drawing in He Siming’s scent. The one being teased was far less composed than he appeared.
The mixed scent of lime and white peach exploded between them. Only when Jiang Rong felt he couldn’t catch his breath did He Siming finally let go. Jiang Rong’s response was utterly lethal to him.
He Siming pulled a tissue from the counter and wiped away the juices that had spilled from the two of them.
Satisfied, he commented, “White peach really is sweet.”
With peach-colored cheeks, Jiang Rong avoided meeting He Siming’s gaze. He’d been rather uninhibited just now.
He Siming’s hand was still hooked around Jiang Rong’s waist. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Only he knew how slender Jiang Rong’s waist was—and at the same time, how soft it was beneath its strength, capable of accommodating any movement.
His thoughts strayed again. Deadly.
Jiang Rong stared at the black Möbius-ring pendant hanging on He Siming’s chest. “What should I say?”
He Siming didn’t press him, instead pinching his fingers lightly. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
Jiang Rong looked at the fingers holding his and shook his head. “I should go back first. I’m covered in sweat from climbing the mountain. I want to shower and change clothes.”
He Siming felt a vague sense of disappointment, but couldn’t find a reason to keep Jiang Rong there.
“I’ll take you back,” he said. If Jiang Rong stayed, he probably wouldn’t be able to let him go—he was already losing control.
Jiang Rong didn’t refuse. “Mm.”
He Siming drove him back to campus. The two of them were quiet along the way, but there was no discomfort—at least, He Siming was content.
The short drive took ten minutes. Jiang Rong kept his head down, looking at the fingers He Siming had just pinched.
He Siming parked downstairs at the dorm building, but he couldn’t stop there long. Jiang Rong would have to get out on his own.
Just before getting out, Jiang Rong suddenly thought of something.
On the second day after his heat ended, He Siming couldn’t smell the peach scent on him. But why could he smell it again just now?
Earlier, he’d been swept up in the moment and forgotten about it. Now that the heat had faded from his face and his mind was clearer, he realized he too was a hopeless romantic.
He asked He Siming, “He Siming, do I still smell like peaches? Can you smell it?”
This was important to him—he really didn’t want to end up with some kind of pheromone disorder.
Seeing the sincerity on Jiang Rong’s face, He Siming crooked a finger. “Come here. I’ll smell.”
Knowing He Siming wasn’t a true Alpha, Jiang Rong leaned over without concern.
He Siming watched him come closer. He’d only meant to smell him, but that long, swan-like neck was right in front of him, mouthwatering.
He couldn’t control himself and bit down lightly. He had firmly remembered that Jiang Rong liked the sensation of him biting his neck.
Jiang Rong retreated back into his seat, covering the side of his neck where he’d been bitten. “Why did you bite me?”
He Siming smiled at him. “Don’t you like it when I bite your neck?”
Jiang Rong: “…” How did it get back to that again? He knew He Siming was teasing him. “So is there a peach smell or not? Is it strong?”
He Siming leaned closer again, this time actually smelling him. “Not strong. Pretty faint. Why?”
Jiang Rong shook his head. “Nothing. I’m heading back to the dorm then. Drive safely.”
He noticed He Siming’s phone kept vibrating.
He Siming said, “Mm. Rest early if you’re not feeling well.”
“Okay.” Jiang Rong pushed open the door and got out.
Only after Jiang Rong had stepped away did He Siming answer the call. He backed the car out and left without any hesitation, his movements smooth and fluid. Passing students stared in awe.
“Damn, that car is way too cool.”
“The driver’s even cooler.”
“Badass.”
“That car looks kind of familiar.”
“Did you guys see—weren’t there two guys inside just now? They looked like they were hugging.”
“No way. Maybe they were picking something up. We were so far away—you probably saw wrong.”
Jiang Rong had no idea that his intimacy with He Siming had been spotted by passersby. He covered the peach-tinged mark on his neck. At the moment he’d been bitten, even his toes had curled—his neck was really sensitive.
Thankfully, He Siming hadn’t come back to the dorm with him. If he’d seen him red like a little shrimp, he’d probably turn even redder.
Yao Shule and Li Yizhou hadn’t returned yet.
After Jiang Rong showered and read for a while, just as he was about to go to bed, he finally heard the commotion of Yao Shule and Li Yizhou coming back.
The noise was loud enough that even the dead could hear it.
Li Yizhou was supporting Yao Shule, who was cursing nonstop and flailing his arms.
“Fuck that idiot! Breaking up with me is the biggest regret of his life! I curse him to have sons with no assh—!”
“Oh no, screw that, the bastard’s definitely going to die childless! I curse him to be a beast of burden for the rest of his life!”
“Ugh… asshole…”
Jiang Rong helped get Yao Shule onto the bed. “How did he drink this much?”
Li Yizhou said, “At dinner he and Ding Yan kept competing to drink. Ding Yan got drunk too and even asked He Siming to pick him up.”
“Did He Siming go?” Jiang Rong asked.
“No. He called another friend.”
Yao Shule was still muttering incoherently.
Jiang Rong asked worriedly, “He won’t throw up, will he?” He had no experience taking care of drunk people. Betas were always busy grinding academically—never grinding at drinking. They didn’t have the time to get drunk with friends either.
“He should be fine,” Li Yizhou said. “Every time he gets drunk, he just passes out. Next day he’s full of energy again.”
“Isn’t he over his breakup yet?” Jiang Rong asked.
Li Yizhou was surprised Jiang Rong would care about Yao Shule’s love life. “Not that fast. I heard it was his high school first love. They changed after he got into college.”
“That’s pretty heartbreaking,” Jiang Rong said.
Li Yizhou reeked of alcohol as well. After chatting briefly, he went to shower.
Jiang Rong was already drowsy. After a full day of climbing, his thighs were sore, aching even when he climbed into bed.
His phone suddenly vibrated. Only after lying down did he check it.
The temporary hiking group chat was exploding with messages. The team leader, Feng Yu, had sent a whole string of photos.
Jiang Rong downloaded the photos that included him. Every single one had both him and He Siming in it.
He created a separate folder just to store these pictures.
He remembered that when they’d just reached the top, He Siming had taken a photo of him too. He wondered how it had turned out.
What was He Siming doing now? Would it be too disruptive to message him at this time?
Jiang Rong’s eyelids kept drooping. Maybe he’d ask tomorrow—he was too sleepy.
Since coming to this world, he had never been this exhausted.
—
At the same time, He Siming was sitting in a quiet, secluded bar.
Across from him sat another friend.
The man was dressed like an elite, with a youthful face. Beside him lay a just-removed custom-tailored suit jacket. He had started interning at his family’s company in his sophomore year, giving him a maturity beyond his age.
Tang Yucheng swirled the ice in his glass. “I finally found time on the weekend and crossed half the city to see you, and you don’t look excited at all.”
He Siming glanced at his phone screen. “What kind of expression do you need?”
Tang Yucheng pointed out his mood. “At least not impatience written all over your face. In the fifteen minutes you’ve been sitting here, you’ve checked your phone five times. What important message are you waiting for? It’s obvious you don’t welcome me.”
He scolded He Siming on his own.
He Siming admitted it frankly. “You really did interrupt me.”
Tang Yucheng let out an “oh.” “So you finally admit it. I’m your childhood friend, and you’re already cold-sholdering me.”
He Siming didn’t bother pretending. “Get to the point.”
Tang Yucheng’s eyes lit up. “No, the business can wait. I’m curious—are you in some kind of situation? Dating?”
“Not dating,” He Siming said.
“Right, who could ever catch your eye? Our campus heartthrob He Siming has standards sky-high.”
“Cut the sarcasm. I said I’m not dating.”
“Then you’re pursuing someone?”
Considering this was between him and Jiang Rong, He Siming didn’t elaborate.
After some thought, he said, “Not exactly pursuing. The situation’s a bit complicated.”
Tang Yucheng laughed. “You’re usually so decisive. Getting tangled up in emotions—now that’s rare. Tell me about it. Maybe I can give you some advice.”
“I’ll handle it myself,” He Siming said. “Maybe I’ll lose interest in a couple of days.”
“Oh? I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it or not.” Not wanting to discuss feelings further, he said, “Why did you really come? If there’s nothing else, I’m heading back.”
“You’re really heartless.” Tang Yucheng finally explained his purpose. “Two things. First, I mentioned a project to you before—wondering if you want to take it on. Second, the Zhao family’s daughter who studied abroad has her eye on you and asked my parents to play matchmaker. Hahaha. Looks like that’s unnecessary now.” He was actually quite eager to watch the drama.
He Siming ignored the second point entirely.
“What about the project?” he asked. “I’ll need to take a look. I haven’t formed a team yet. Do you have a detailed plan?”
“Brought it with me,” Tang Yucheng said.
“Alright. Give it to me. I’ll look it over when I have time tomorrow. If there’s nothing else, you can head back.”
“Damn it, man. It’s late at night and you won’t even put me up?”
“Go stay at a hotel.”
“Your place is huge. You won’t even let me stay one night?”
“No,” He Siming said without mercy. “I’m used to living alone.”
Tang Yucheng declared dramatically, “One day I’m blocking you.”
“Suit yourself,” He Siming replied distractedly.
Tang Yucheng sighed. “I finally understand—you’re the one among us with the greatest potential to be a scumbag.”
He Siming drained the last of his tea and stood up. “If you say so. I still have things to do tonight. I’m heading back early.”
“You’re not even drinking anymore?” Tang Yucheng was stunned. It’d only been a month since they last met—how had he changed this much?
“I’m driving.”
“And I’m not?”
“I value my life,” He Siming said. “You should call a driver too.”
“Damn it, He Siming. Have you been possessed? Where’s that energy you had when you just turned eighteen and raced people on mountain roads?”
He Siming couldn’t even be bothered to roll his eyes. “Are you leaving or not?”
“Leaving, leaving.”
The two left the bar together.
Outside, He Siming got straight into his car. As the engine started, he rolled down the window. Tang Yucheng thought he’d had a change of heart.
“What, conscience kicking in? Inviting me over after all?”
He Siming leaned halfway out and said, “Impossible. I just wanted to tell you—I’ve been very busy lately. If it’s nothing important, don’t come bothering me.”
Then he drove off without looking back, leaving Tang Yucheng standing there in the wind, utterly disheveled.
In the end, Tang Yucheng still called a driver—he was good at taking advice.
He was puzzled. Had He Siming really changed? He even knew how to care about people now?
As for He Siming, the first thing he did after getting home was turn on his computer and open a document he’d been editing earlier that afternoon while Jiang Rong was sleeping—“Core Knowledge of Computer Fundamentals.”
He worked on it until two in the morning, then reviewed it once more, carefully checking for typos.
This document should be more than enough to help Jiang Rong get through midterms.
Before going to sleep, he wondered how much compensation this document might earn him.
