1122 - Chapter 37.1

In the bedroom, someone was tossing and turning again.

This time, it wasn’t because he was worried about the person next door not having enough blankets, it was because he was worried about what would happen if his shirt was discovered.

“I must be out of my mind.”

Jiang Yi, flustered and annoyed, pulled the blanket over his head until he was stiflingly hot and had to throw it off again. But even then, he couldn’t calm his wildly racing heart or suppress the inexplicable anticipation bubbling inside him.

Anticipation?

What was he anticipating?

That was his shirt even if Yan Nanchen found it, what could he possibly do? It wasn’t like he’d sniff it like some kind of pervert right? Or maybe—

Buzz!

His phone on the nightstand suddenly vibrated. Jiang Yi froze for half a second, as if he already knew who it might be.

He turned his gaze to the nightstand, watching the phone light up in the dim room. The vibration against the wooden surface seemed to pluck at his nerves, sending a shiver through his chest.

After a moment, he reached out and picked up the phone. The caller ID read “Puppy,” and his heart skipped a heavy beat. Before his thoughts could catch up, his fingers had already swiped to answer.

The moment that slightly hoarse, amused voice came through the line, his entire body flushed with heat. Even with the air conditioning on, he felt unbearably warm.

“Yi Yi, do you know what I’m doing right now?”

Jiang Yi listened to the slightly rough breathing on the other end, along with faint, friction-like sounds. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “What are you doing?”

“You gave me your shirt didn’t you want me to think of you? I’m thinking of you right now. Missing you so, so much.”

When Jiang Yi faintly heard a slick, sticky sound, he bolted upright in bed. His eyes widened, but he forced himself to lower his voice, not wanting to startle Qiao Qiao. “Yan Nanchen!” he hissed, equal parts furious and embarrassed.

“Yi Yi, I really want to hold you.”

Perhaps because he wasn’t finished yet, Yan Nanchen’s voice was lazy and low, thick with lingering desire. The faint panting through the phone was irresistibly sensual just from the sound alone, Jiang Yi could picture him exactly as before: shirtless, those gray sweatpants probably barely hanging on, clutching his shirt in hand.

Jiang Yi sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets so tightly his palms grew damp. His breathing quickened, influenced by the other man’s ragged exhales. His ears burned, the gland at the back of his neck flared with heat, and the sensation spread through his entire body like wildfire. His heart was scorching.

His voice trembled as he spoke. “Yan Nanchen, stop messing around.”

“Yi Yi, I love you so much. So, so much.”

One honeyed phrase after another poured through the phone, that deep, husky voice brushing against his eardrums like a faint electric current, seeping into his brain. Bit by bit, Yan Nanchen was eroding his rationality.

“Yi Yi, falling in love with you is the happiest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Jiang Yi clutched the phone, head bowed as sweat beaded at his temples. He fought to hold back, but Yan Nanchen’s voice slowly bent him forward until he collapsed back onto the bed. Curling on his side, he hugged the blanket and switched the call to speaker, pressing the phone close to his ear. He bit his lower lip hard, refusing to let even a sound escape.

“Yi Yi, can you hear? What I’m doing?”

Jiang Yi tilted his head back slightly, sweat trickling down his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t know.”

“Yi Yi, I’m loving you right now.”

It was in that moment Jiang Yi heard Yan Nanchen’s breathing become rapid and erratic that sound instantly snapped his last thread of rationality, shattering all his restraint as he bit down on the blanket, fingers trembling, lower back tensing.

About a minute passed, their uneven breaths separated only by a wall, by the device, echoing vividly in each other’s ears.

Perhaps Yan Nanchen had picked up on something from his end, because he suddenly laughed and said, “Yi Yi, my shirt’s dirty now.”

Jiang Yi hung up the phone in utter exasperation.

Then he pulled the blanket over his head, his restless thoughts galloping wildly beneath the covers, leaving him unable to calm down for a long time.

He’d actually just with Yan Nanchen over the phone.

The thought made him press the blanket hard against his face, wishing he could disappear into a hole.

This was insane.

After about ten minutes of recovery, he finally got up to wash his hands.

The next day.

The doorbell rang right on schedule, and Yan Nanchen’s face appeared on the video intercom.

Qiao Qiao was in the middle of having her hair braided when she spotted First Dad and immediately bolted for the door, completely oblivious to her father quietly rising from behind her, poised to slip away, his entire demeanor radiating eagerness to escape.

Unfortunately, before he could make his getaway, his daughter had already flung the door open.

“Good morning, First Dad~”

As soon as the door opened, Yan Nanchen saw his daughter rushing toward him. He promptly scooped her up and returned the greeting, just in time to catch Jiang Yi attempting to retreat into the kitchen. Amused, he called out, “Yi Yi, good morning.”

Hearing Yan Nanchen’s voice instantly brought back memories of last night, filling Jiang Yi with such embarrassment he wanted to vanish into the ground. But since the instigator of this shame was standing there looking completely unruffled, he refused to lose face. So he turned around with feigned composure, meeting Yan Nanchen’s smiling gaze.

“Good morning.”

He silently clenched the hairbrush in his hand, scolding himself for letting his heart race like this. He needed to toughen up.

Which was why he blurted out something that immediately made him want to punch himself: “Did you wash my shirt clean?”

The moment the words left his mouth, his expression froze in horror at himself.

His brain scrambled to process why he’d asked that, why he’d brought up last night voluntarily, why?!?!

Yan Nanchen took in Jiang Yi’s comically devastated expression and couldn’t hold back a laugh. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Mm, it’s clean. I washed it right after using it. By hand.”

Jiang Yi’s lips twitched. “…” Who cares whether you machine-washed or hand-washed it?

He turned away silently, tossing Qiao Qiao’s hairbrush onto the couch with an air of resignation. “You do her hair. I need to compose myself.”

Completely unaware that the redness creeping up his ears and neck was on full display.

Yan Nanchen smiled without comment, carrying Qiao Qiao to the couch to sit down. He picked up the discarded brush and began styling her hair thankfully, his recent diligent practice had paid off. “Qiao Qiao, should First Dad give you Elsa braids?”

Qiao Qiao’s eyes instantly lit up. Her mouth fell open as she gazed at First Dad in awe. “First Dad, you know how to do Princess Elsa’s hair?!”

Jiang Yi, who had been heading to the kitchen for water, poked his head back out in disbelief at Yan Nanchen’s claim.

Amused by the identical looks of wonder on both father and daughter’s faces, Yan Nanchen nodded. “Want to try?” After hearing his daughter mention it last time, he’d gone home and practiced though not without enduring plenty of teasing from his brother about being wrapped around her little finger.

“Qiao Qiao wants to!!”

Five minutes later, a perfect pair of Elsa braids adorned her head.

Jiang Yi stood behind the sofa with a resentful expression, watching Yan Nanchen’s hands and then glancing at his own. After all, he had been tying Qiao Qiao’s hair for two or three years, even though she always complained that he could only manage ponytails or twin tails.

Could it be that the Luo family had some genetic talent for hairstyling?

But wait, the Luo family had so few girls. Even if they did tie hair, it wouldn’t have been Yan Nanchen’s job, right?

Holding a glass, Jiang Yi narrowed his eyes at Yan Nanchen. “Where did you learn to tie hair? Have you done it for someone else before? You have, haven’t you?”

Yan Nanchen turned his head, meeting Jiang Yi’s sulky gaze. Perhaps because he had already seen this petty side of him last night, the jealousy now only amused him. “No, I’ve only ever done it for Qiao Qiao. My brother taught me.”

Qiao Qiao’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so it was First Uncle who taught you! No wonder First Uncle is so smart, and since you’re his brother, First Dad, you must be smart too. Unlike Daddy, who could never learn no matter how hard he tried. So silly!”

Jiang Yi snorted, downing the water in his glass before turning toward the kitchen. “Being good at tying hair doesn’t mean much.”

“Daddy, you’re really good at crying secretly. That’s something Qiao Qiao can’t do!”

Jiang Yi froze mid-step, then laughed in exasperation. He turned his head. “Jiang Nianqiao, have your wings hardened already? Daring to talk to your dad like that?”

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