Fishing-Type Beauties Will Never Love Crematorium - Chapter 12

Chen Qingtang’s first reaction was not concern over how Shen He would look if he saw that document or what he would think of him. Rather, it was: Could Shen He even understand it? Did Shen He know what “Gong” meant? And did he have any idea what “high-H” signified?

He remembered their first time making love in their past life. Shen He had actually gone out of his way to look up educational films, studying them earnestly for an entire night, before he dared to make a move on him the next day. It was no exaggeration; this man had never even watched those kinds of unsavory films, let alone smutty web novels.

Chen Qingtang tilted his head slightly, peering out from the bathroom vanity at Shen He. As expected, Shen He’s gaze had lingered on the browser history for less than two seconds before he quickly clicked open his own document and got to work.

Chen Qingtang arched a brow, deep in thought, when suddenly a hand reached out and handed him a bottle of laundry detergent.

Chen Qingtang looked up. “?”

Shen He remained expressionless. “Try my detergent. See if it has that scent you like on me.”

Chen Qingtang took it. “Thank you.”

Right in front of Shen He, he poured some detergent into his palm, grabbed the underwear from the basin, and began to scrub.

Only then did Shen He notice what Chen Qingtang was washing. He abruptly averted his gaze, staring at the floor.

Chen Qingtang rinsed the underwear and brought it to the tip of his nose to sniff. He looked up, his eyes filled with a shimmering, provocative light. “Could I smell your clothes? I want to see if they match.”

Shen He turned and left.

Chen Qingtang: “?”

A minute later, Shen He returned from his wardrobe with a jacket he had never worn and handed it to Chen Qingtang.

Chen Qingtang was speechless, but decided to go along with it. He feigned a sniff and said regretfully, “It is too faint; it does not really match.”

Shen He pressed his lips together. “Is the scent not on the clothes?”

Chen Qingtang simply looked at him quietly, waiting to see what he would do next.

Shen He analyzed the situation very seriously. “Could it be the scent of my shampoo or body wash?”

However, his toiletries were not in the dorm, so there was no way to verify it.

Chen Qingtang replied, “I do not know.” He then added, as if speaking offhandedly, “If I could smell you directly, I might be able to tell.”

Shen He paused, then suddenly stepped forward. “You can smell me.”

He had taken a shower that morning. Shen He made it a habit to shower every morning; it kept his mind clear for the entire day.

Chen Qingtang feigned ignorance. “Smell where?”

Shen He was very straightforward. “Anywhere. You can smell me from wherever you like.”

Chen Qingtang leaned against the vanity, watching him with a mocking, half-smile. “Where should I start?”

The young man’s eyes were jet-black and translucent—beautiful, yet when filled with such a smile, they held a subtle, undeniable aggression, as if he were trying to dissect a person’s soul.

Every time Shen He was watched by such a gaze, he felt as if he were standing naked and being admired. It was not exactly uncomfortable, but his heartbeat would become restless, like a hungry wolf catching the scent of fresh blood.

Perhaps out of a sense of competition, Shen He also stared steadily back at Chen Qingtang. “Anywhere is fine. You can start wherever you want.”

Chen Qingtang slowly leaned in, never once shifting his gaze from Shen He. He was like a snake inching toward its prey.

Chen Qingtang whispered, “If anything I do makes you uncomfortable, just tell me to stop.”

Shen He grunted. “It is fine. Go ahead.”

Chen Qingtang first stood on tiptoe to smell Shen He’s thick, straight hair. “So fragrant.”

His lips were just inches from Shen He’s ear. Shen He felt a wave of heat wrap around his auricle, then crawl into his ear canal. The relentless tickle traveled from his spine to the depths of his heart, causing him to clench his fists slightly.

Chen Qingtang said regretfully, “The scent is wrong. It is not the shampoo.”

He moved downward as he spoke. “Could it be the scent of your aftershave?”

Shen He tensed. “You can smell it.”

A smile bloomed in Chen Qingtang’s eyes. Is this an invitation? Shen He was surprisingly generous.

His gaze fell on the boy’s soft, thin lips. Chen Qingtang pulled back for a moment, then, under Shen He’s steady gaze, leaned in again, inch by inch. He purposely slowed the process, and finally, he got his wish: he saw Shen He’s steady gaze shift to trembling pupils before he could no longer bear it and looked away.

Chen Qingtang hooked the corner of his mouth in an invisible smile. A paper tiger.

Chen Qingtang stopped half a finger’s length from Shen He’s chin. He had barely taken a light sniff before he noticed Shen He’s entire body go visibly rigid.

Chen Qingtang paused and retreated slightly. He did not want to trigger Shen He’s revulsion, so it was better to stop while he was ahead.

He did not forget to offer a critique. “It is not the scent of aftershave either. But your aftershave smells quite nice. You should send me the link later.”

Shen He grunted, his voice sounding nasally.

Chen Qingtang had intended to leave it at that, but his gaze shifted and caught Shen He’s flushed red earlobes. The smile in his eyes deepened. So, it was not revulsion—he was just shy.

Chen Qingtang leaned in toward Shen He’s neck. At this distance, he could smell the clear, sweet fragrance naturally present on Shen He’s skin, radiating a warm temperature. He could also hear Shen He’s heartbeat, which had already lost its rhythm. It sounded like a sudden summer sun-shower, pattering away.

Chen Qingtang looked at the neck where the veins were beginning to bulge with excitement and thought maliciously: What would happen if I bit down right now?

While Chen Qingtang was lost in thought, Shen He stood perfectly still. The warm breath on his neck teased him like a feather stroking his heart, and a tidal wave of hot, impulsive desire lashed against his reason.

Shen He held his breath. “Are you done?” His voice was notably deeper.

Chen Qingtang let out a soft “Ah” and pulled back. “Done. But I still cannot be sure if it is the body wash.” Let us leave it at that for now; everything must be done step by step.

Once they had fully distanced themselves, Shen He spoke calmly. “Next time, I will bring the body wash, and you can smell it again.”

Chen Qingtang replied, “Okay.”

Actually, he had known the truth all along. The unique fragrance on Shen He was not something Chen Qingtang had made up. Shen He’s grandfather frequently prepared herbal sachets for him, which Shen He would place in his laundry and wardrobe, resulting in a constant, refreshing medicinal scent. If Chen Qingtang’s memories from his past life were correct, the primary ingredient in the sachets was magnolia bud. This herb smelled lingering and sweet, and it was a treatment for rhinitis. That was why every time Chen Qingtang’s nose was congested, smelling Shen He provided great relief.

But Chen Qingtang would never tell Shen He that. If he did, given Shen He’s personality, he would just hand over all his grandfather’s sachets. Then where would the fun be? That was not the outcome Chen Qingtang wanted.

Shen He said expressionlessly, “If there is nothing else, I am going.”

Chen Qingtang replied, “Mhm.”

Shen He packed up his laptop, grabbed his computer bag, and hurried out of the dorm. Walking all the way to the lobby of the apartment building in one breath, he ducked into the restroom. Standing before the mirror and looking at his own flushed face, Shen He closed his eyes in frustration. Just being smelled, and he had such a huge reaction. It is fortunate Chen Qingtang did not see him like this.

Deep in his heart, something secret and dangerous was once again stirring with joy. This feeling was clearer than the last time they had confronted each other in the car. Shen He could not name what it was; he only reflexively tried to suppress it. After splashing his face with cold water and letting the redness fade, Shen He left the apartment building.

That night, before going to bed, Shen He opened his WPS software to process some files. However, he saw that the smutty novel document was still hanging at the top of his history. In other words, after he had used the software that afternoon, Chen Qingtang had checked the document again.

A very subtle feeling arose in Shen He’s heart. It felt as if an invisible thread had tied him and Chen Qingtang together, sparking an urge to investigate.

Shen He scrolled down through the browser history; the rest were normal documents for school forms. Only that high-H document at the top secretly revealed a bit of Chen Qingtang’s private world. Shen He’s fingertips hovered over the document for a moment, then pulled back as if burned.

This is wrong. Peeking at someone else’s privacy was unethical. Shen He decisively exited the software.

Several minutes later, with a crack, Shen He snapped his knuckles and opened Baidu. He was only learning, he told himself; it was just broadening his knowledge.

Shen He began to search with a solemn expression:

What does “flirty top” mean?

What does “high-H” mean?