He's Really So Hard to Pursue - Chapter 6

Jiang Yanci lay in Room 1 for about forty or fifty minutes until the searing pain finally began to dull. He pulled his trousers on but left his shirt on the chair.

“Is Xiao Zhao off the clock?” he asked.

Jiang Yi turned his head slightly. “She’s gone.”

He was still hunched over a new design, likely for a client in the next day or two, meticulously tweaking the details. He’d made several adjustments but still wasn’t satisfied, so he was preparing a few variations for the client to choose from tomorrow.

Hearing that, Jiang Yanci left his shirt where it was. “Then I’m not putting that back on yet.”

Jiang Yi’s voice dropped an octave. “Suit yourself. There are cameras in the main lobby. If you don’t mind, I don’t mind.”

Jiang Yanci chuckled. They were both men; he didn’t care. He was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the initial shock of the pain, and he felt sticky and uncomfortable. He stepped up behind Jiang Yi. “Lend me your shower. I need to wash up.”

Without looking back, Jiang Yi replied as if it were routine, “The guest room has a clean bathrobe ready.”

Jiang Yanci headed for the door, but Jiang Yi stopped him just as his hand touched the handle. “Xiao Zhao checks the security footage tomorrow morning.”

Jiang Yanci retracted his hand. “…”

Right. Probably best not to walk out like that. It would be a bit disrespectful to the girl. He looked at his shirt on the chair, then at Jiang Yi’s indifferent back. “Then how am I supposed to get out of here?”

Jiang Yi rubbed the bridge of his nose and took off his glasses, frowning as if genuinely puzzled. “This is your building. Don’t you know how to get upstairs?”

Jiang Yanci: “…”

How was he supposed to know? He owned so many properties; he couldn’t remember every architectural quirk of every single one. But from the way Jiang Yi was talking, it sounded like there was a shortcut.

Jiang Yi shut down his computer and slid aside a large drafting table in Room 1, revealing a hidden door. “Go through here. It leads straight to the second floor.”

Well, would you look at that. Jiang Yanci let out a soft whistle. It seemed this landlord needed to do a better job of getting to know his own house.

He stepped through the small door and found a staircase that was narrower and steeper than the main one. It did indeed lead directly to the second floor, exiting right where the art collection was displayed. It seemed the building had been designed this way to allow the two floors to be rented out separately without the tenants ever crossing paths.

The guest bathroom was much better equipped than it had been during his first “impromptu” visit. Jiang Yi had clearly upgraded the toiletries and provided fresh towels and a crisp bathrobe.

Since the tattoo was fresh, he had to keep it dry. He wasn’t quite sure how to manage a shower without soaking his midsection. He needed plastic wrap.

To avoid being caught shirtless on the lobby cameras, he wrapped himself in the bathrobe before heading out to the railing. “Jiang—”

“JIANG YI!”

Just then, a woman burst through the front door from the pouring rain, soaking wet and dripping all over the floor.

Jiang Yanci froze at the railing, his brow furrowing as he took her in.

The woman was wearing heavy, dramatic makeup with thick eyeshadow, exaggerated false lashes, and blood-red lipstick. Her exposed arms were covered in large, elaborate tattoos. She was dressed in a spaghetti-strap top and denim shorts that barely reached her thighs.

The moment she stepped inside, she lit a cigarette and let out an aggressive cloud of smoke. “Are you out of your damn mind? Who told you that you could tell me what to do?”

Jiang Yi seemed entirely used to this. He closed the door to shut out the sound of the rain and tossed a towel toward her. “Dry yourself off.”

The woman cursed at him, her language foul and sharp. “You’re the one who went looking for me! I’m not drying shit. I’m going to get mud all over your precious sofa.”

Jiang Yi gave a cold snort. “I gave you that towel to wipe the sofa. Now. Do it.”

The woman paused mid-drag, her expression faltering. “Are you crazy? I’m your sister! Your own flesh and blood!”

Upstairs, Jiang Yanci arched an eyebrow. He’d expected some kind of dramatic ex-lover confrontation. The human personification of a cold shower had a sister who was… well, an agent of chaos.

And that made this woman Jiang Xi’s mother.

Jiang Fang slammed a foot onto the coffee table, leaving a muddy footprint on the cream-colored surface. “Fine. What was so life-or-death that you had Jiang Xi hounding me? I just hit a ‘Nine Gates’ hand at the mahjong table. My luck is in today; maybe I’ll actually be able to pay you back what I owe.”

Jiang Yi closed his eyes. “You went gambling again? What did you promise me last time?”

Jiang Fang shrugged, a picture of reckless abandon. “Go ahead then. If you’ve got the guts to chop off two of my fingers, do it! You think I’m scared? I wasn’t raised to be a coward, Jiang Yi. You think I’ll believe your empty threats?”

This was family business, and Jiang Yanci felt he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. He started to head back to the guest room but accidentally made a slight noise.

Jiang Fang’s head snapped up. Her eyes met Jiang Yanci’s as he leaned over the railing.

First glance: “Damn, who’s the hottie?”

Second glance: “Wait… why are you in a bathrobe? Are you living with Jiang Yi? Holy shit! Jiang Yi, have you lost your mind? You’re into guys now? You’re trying to give our parents a heart attack?!”

Jiang Yi tilted his head toward the stairs. “Go take your shower.”

Jiang Yanci: “…I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But I just got a tattoo, and I can’t get it wet.”

Jiang Yi grabbed a roll of plastic wrap and headed upstairs to hand it to him. “Wrap it tight. Don’t let water touch it for the next few days. If you have to, just use a damp cloth for a sponge bath. Also, showers only—no soaking in a tub. We don’t want an infection.”

Jiang Yanci took it. “Thanks. One more thing before you go, need a hand?”

Jiang Yi looked up at him.

Jiang Yanci gave him a rogueish, playful grin. “You might not have the heart to actually chop off fingers… but I do.”

Jiang Yi’s face darkened slightly. “No need.”

Jiang Yanci let out a low laugh as the door closed. He wrapped layer after layer of plastic over his midsection, making sure it was airtight before finally stepping into the shower.

He was curious about the drama downstairs, but he’d rather hear it from Jiang Yi’s own mouth than through a floorboard.

As it turned out, Jiang Yi handled the situation quickly. By the time Jiang Yanci finished his shower and opened the bathroom door, Jiang Yi was sitting on the edge of the guest bed. He looked up at the sound, his face etched with clear exhaustion. “Did you keep it dry?”

Jiang Yanci rubbed a towel through his hair. “Yeah. I used half the roll of plastic wrap.”

“Watch what you eat, too. Nothing spicy, and no alcohol,” Jiang Yi reminded him. Then, he paused. “How did you get here tonight?”

“I drove—” Jiang Yanci caught himself and gave a half-smile, quickly pivoting. “I was drinking at the bar with a friend, and we ran into Jiang Xi. My friend drove me here.”

Translation: I don’t have a car here, so I’m stranded.

Jiang Yi nodded slowly. “I’ll drive you home.”

Jiang Yanci let out a low chuckle. “Who usually stays in this guest room?”

Jiang Yi shook his head. “No one.”

“Can I sleep here?”

Jiang Yi’s breath hitched for a split second. “Sure. I’m going to bed.”

Jiang Yanci watched his back as he left and heard the door to the master bedroom click shut.

The bedding was clean and smelled of laundry detergent and sunlight. It had likely been freshly changed. Jiang Yanci squeezed the pillow. The last time he’d been here, the guest bed didn’t even have sheets.

Tsk. Even if Manager Jiang hadn’t caught feelings yet, his biological instincts as a man were definitely starting to stir.

*****

Jiang Yi was dreaming.

The dream was humid, scorching, and filled with the unmistakable sound of Jiang Yanci’s heavy breathing.

Images from the tattoo session flashed through his mind—the way he looked in that bathrobe after the shower, hair damp, skin flushed with heat. And that pale, delicate skin… skin that turned red at the slightest touch of Jiang Yi’s hand.

He was a healthy man. He had tattooed plenty of men before.

But with Jiang Yanci… the skin was too white. It was blinding. It haunted his sleep.

Fuck!

Jiang Yi bolted upright, his back curving as he sat in the dark. The only sounds in the room were the falling rain and the sound of Jiang Yi gulping down water.

He clicked on the bedside lamp. The bed was a mess. He changed into clean underwear and walked to the window, feeling frustrated. He lit a cigarette and let the damp, cool night air rush in to blow away the lingering scent of musk in the room.

Once the cigarette was finished, the heat in his body finally began to subside. Jiang Yi changed the sheets and pillowcases and washed his soiled underwear.

Because it had been raining on and off, he’d moved his drying rack to the other balcony. To get there, he had to leave his room, cross the hallway, and go to the small balcony right next to the guest room.

Since his surgery, Jiang Yanci’s sleep had been light. He was easily woken, and even though Jiang Yi was being as quiet as possible with the drying rack and hangers, the sound reached him.

Jiang Yanci opened his eyes and looked out the window. There was Jiang Yi, hanging up laundry.

Jiang Yanci rested his head on his hands, watching through the glass. He could see exactly what was being hung up.

It was a pair of underwear.

The tension on that rain-slicked balcony is absolute perfection. Jiang Yanci is playing with fire and a literal cigarette while Jiang Yi is fighting a losing battle against his own restraint.

Before going to bed, Jiang Yi had already done a load of laundry and hung it out here.

This was the second time.

Washing underwear in the middle of the night, and a pair he’d just changed into, no less…

The smirk on Jiang Yanci’s lips curled higher and higher.

He rolled out of bed and walked over to the window. Jiang Yi was still there, his laundry finished, leaning his weight on his hands as he stared out at the midnight rain soaking the old street.

“Washing your underwear in the middle of the night, Manager Jiang? Who exactly were you dreaming about?”

Jiang Yanci’s sudden voice didn’t startle Jiang Yi.

Jiang Yi stuffed his pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. “I woke you up.”

Jiang Yanci arched an eyebrow, leaning casually against the window frame. “What’s going on with you? Not just washing clothes but smoking too?” He gave a half-smile. “Let me guess. You were dreaming about me, weren’t you? Thinking about me lying on that tattoo table while you had your hands all over me?”

Jiang Yi’s gaze darkened.

Jiang Yanci’s triumphant grin made it clear he was enjoying this. “Or maybe you dreamed about the first time I showered here, walking out in that bathrobe all damp just to tease you?”

Jiang Yi’s breathing grew even heavier. He turned his head back toward the rain.

The droplets hit the grey roof tiles, kicking up a chaotic mist of spray—much like the state of Jiang Yi’s mind right now. He closed his eyes as the wind caught his loose shirt, billowing the fabric.

Jiang Yanci stood right behind him, sharing the view of the rainy night.

After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Yi suddenly turned, shut the window, and drew the curtains closed.

Once he was sure the gaze behind him was gone, Jiang Yi pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He bit down on the filter, letting the smoke mingle with the sound of the rain—damp, acrid, and sharp.

He was agitated tonight. He was frustrated by Jiang Fang and Jiang Xi, but mostly, he was frustrated by Jiang Yanci. He realized he’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have let Jiang Yanci stay here; he should have driven him home.

He’d only taken a few drags before the balcony door behind him opened again.

Jiang Yanci’s eyes were cool as he looked at a startled Jiang Yi. He took a step forward, stopping right beside him.

“I really hate the smell of smoke.”

Jiang Yi instinctively moved to crush the cigarette.

But a split second later, Jiang Yanci stopped him. “But today… I want to try it.”

With that, he leaned in, took the cigarette right from Jiang Yi’s fingers with his own lips, and took a sharp drag.

He clearly wasn’t a smoker. One hit was all it took to send him into a fit of coughing. The smoke hit his lungs hard, and he had to cough several times to catch his breath, his eyes turning slightly red from the irritation.

Jiang Yanci took the cigarette out of his mouth. “I guess I’m still not used to it.”

Jiang Yi stood over him, his tall frame looming. “Throw it away.”

“Is Jiang Fang actually Jiang Xi’s mother?” Jiang Yanci asked.

The subject change was abrupt, but Jiang Yi followed the pivot. His gaze, however, remained fixed on the glowing red cherry of the cigarette. “Yes.”

“They don’t look that far apart in age.”

Jiang Yi retracted his gaze. “She had him when she was eighteen. The guy said he’d marry her, but once she got pregnant, he vanished. Every piece of info he gave her was fake; she couldn’t track him down.”

Jiang Yanci frowned. “She didn’t think about… ending it?”

“She kept it from the family. She gave birth to him in secret.”

As for why she didn’t have an abortion, Jiang Yi didn’t know. Jiang Fang had a hundred different excuses, and they changed every time she told the story. No one knew which one was the truth.

“You’re good to him,” Jiang Yanci noted. “But honestly, he’s not cut out for academics. Being strict with him won’t change that.”

At the mention of his nephew, a ghost of a smile finally touched Jiang Yi’s face. “Did the little brat complain to you? You’re the one who said he wasn’t pro material, either.”

“Try something else,” Jiang Yanci said, nudging him playfully. “You should ask him. I think… he might actually be interested in painting.”

Jiang Yi looked genuinely surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“The other day, I saw him looking at those paintings on the second floor. He couldn’t take his eyes off them. He looked like he wanted to touch them but was too afraid he’d mess them up. He really likes it. Maybe you should help him pursue that.”

Jiang Yi went quiet, clearly taking Jiang Yanci’s words to heart.

The family talk was over; it was time to get back to more “worldly” matters.

Jiang Yanci looked at the dripping underwear hanging just a few feet away, his eyes sparkling. “So, Manager Jiang… who was in the dream? To go as far as washing your clothes in the middle of the night… the passion must have been uncontrollable. Did you reach a climax?”

Jiang Yi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He looked at him helplessly. “No one.”

Jiang Yanci clearly didn’t buy it. “I’m sleeping right in the next room. If you’re having ‘thoughts,’ why not just come find me?”

“I’m not… casual like that,” Jiang Yi managed.

Jiang Yanci snorted. “Neither am I. But when it comes to you, I’m happy to make an exception.”

Jiang Yi was getting used to his constant flirting. “It’s late. Go back to sleep. I have two clients tomorrow morning…”

In the next heartbeat, Jiang Yi’s words were cut off by a sudden, warm pressure against his lips.

His eyes narrowed instantly, a flash of something dangerous flickering in his gaze.

Jiang Yanci let out a satisfied hum against his mouth. He nipped at Jiang Yi’s lip before sliding his tongue inside.

Before Jiang Yi could reach out to push him away, Jiang Yanci pulled back. “The smoke doesn’t taste great, but I actually really like the way it smells on you, Jiang-ge.”

“Jiang Yanci!”

The landlord, hearing his full name for the first time, wasn’t offended at all. If anything, he looked even more rogueish. “By the way, Manager Jiang… your lips aren’t nearly as cold as your personality. They’re actually quite soft.”

Jiang Yi clenched his fists. “I told you last time—”

“Told me what?” Jiang Yanci chuckled, letting out a contented sigh. “Next time I feel like ‘smoking,’ I’ll come find you.”

Jiang Yi: “…”

The way he said it made Jiang Yi feel like a personal service, available whenever the landlord had an itch to scratch.

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