In a Relationship With the Rugged Guy Next Door - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: There Is Meat in Old Cow’s Cooking Today

Chu Feng truly believed he wasn’t using much force, but Jingming truly felt the pain.

The next day, Chu Feng insisted on driving Jingming to work. Originally, Jingming said it wasn’t necessary, but while he was getting dressed, Chu Feng came over to help with his clothes, which led to a lingering cuddle and a kiss. Once kissed, Jingming became clingy, and the departure was delayed.

At the parking lot, they bumped into Du Li, who arrived right on time. Jingming said a polite goodbye to Chu Feng and walked to the office with her.

The first half of the magazine was already in the layout stage, so Jingming’s workload had lightened significantly. He occasionally helped Du Li with the media center tasks.

“I took a lot of photos, but I haven’t filtered them yet,” Jingming said. “No rush, do it this morning.” Du Li turned to him. “Why didn’t you ride your bike today?”

Jingming mentioned he was exhausted from the weekend market. “I overslept this morning and was afraid I wouldn’t make it on time if I cycled.”

Du Li nodded. “I saw the news. That Tang Song… it’s like a stone hitting the water. He’s been involved with so many people, men and women alike. I even heard he led a clique to bully other trainees during the idol show.”

“Huh?” Jingming immediately thought of Shao Yuting.

“Just internet rumors,” Du Li added. “They say a solo trainee without an agency almost quit because of him. How can someone without a big background be so arrogant?”

Jingming recalled details from the past. Tang Song was a master of disguise—charming, seemingly humble, and handsome with a sophisticated aesthetic. Little did everyone know, his aesthetic was crafted by his makeup artist ex-boyfriend, and his “generosity” was funded by the fansite owners he secretly contacted. He was good at inciting others, and his fluke success made him believe he was a puppet master—until the day he finally tripped.

Jingming let out a long sigh and said no more.

…

On Monday and Tuesday, their supervisor Xie Yan was away on business. Jingming did odd jobs until Du Li asked if he’d like to write an article about the market for their public account.

“You can apply for a writing fee.” “Really? How much?”

Jingming still owed Xue Dongni 2,000 yuan. Most of his savings had gone to his parents, and he’d spent the rest on breach-of-contract fees and a new door for his old landlord. If it weren’t for Chu Feng providing everything back home, he’d be penniless.

Du Li coughed. “Two hundred.” Jingming forced a smile; better than nothing. “Sure, I’ll write it.”

By the time he finished the layout, Chu Feng messaged that he was waiting downstairs.

“Baby.” Chu Feng stood under a sweet osmanthus tree, holding an ice cream. “Here. Did you miss me?” Jingming thought, it’s only been seven hours. “Missed you, missed you.”

Chu Feng: “No more work today. Let’s eat at home, rest well, and find a movie for us to watch.” “A movie?” “Yeah, like last time.” Jingming laughed. “Then you’re not allowed to cry again.” Chu Feng looked sheepish. “I didn’t cry…”

On the way back, they stopped at the Majiapo Market. It was Monday, so the “dog market” section was closed, and only the regular stalls were open.

“Do you like amaranth, Baby?” Chu Feng asked. Jingming looked at it. “The one that bleeds [red] when cooked?” Chu Feng smiled. “Yeah. I’ll stir-fry it with garlic.”

They bought amaranth, fresh bamboo shoots, and bayberries. Chu Feng also picked up some fresh river fish while Jingming treated himself to fried sticky rice cakes and sesame balls.

“122 yuan,” Chu Feng counted the cash in Jingming’s pocket—nothing but small change. “What?” Jingming turned. “Not enough? I have money in my card.” “How much?”

Jingming found him a bit strange but answered, “About a thousand? Do you need it, Brother? I can withdraw it.” Because of the doxxing, Jingming’s digital payment accounts had been flooded with harassment, so he had been relying on cash lately—mostly the emergency cash Xue Dongni had stuffed in his cabinet.

“I don’t need your money.” Chu Feng sighed, putting the groceries in the car. “Did you spend all the money you earned from working?”

Jingming nodded guiltily. Chu Feng’s expression turned serious. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been working and you sold scripts before.” He knew Jingming wasn’t a big spender.

“Most of the money went to my parents,” Jingming explained. “Why? They both have jobs. Do they need your money?” “It’s not that they lack it… it’s just paying for my keep,” Jingming’s voice grew smaller. “I chose to give them more. It makes them happy.”

Chu Feng gripped the steering wheel, silence filling the car. Jingming leaned in to comfort him. “They raised me, Brother. It cost a lot. I have a job now, and I earned 200 today.”

Seeing no response, Jingming added, “I’ll be successful one day, and I’ll give my money to you too.”

“Okay, I get it,” Chu Feng said suddenly. He reached out, cupping the back of Jingming’s neck, and kissed him. It wasn’t as awkward as the first time, but Chu Feng’s intensity was still high, making Jingming’s breath hitch.

…

Back at home, Chu Feng cooked while Jingming mopped the floor. He decided they should watch Your Name Engraved Herein—something youthful.

Dinner was braised pork ribs with bamboo shoots, garlic amaranth, and fried fish. Chu Feng opened two cans of craft beer.

“Delicious?” Chu Feng asked. “It’s Aunt Xiang’s recipe. I think hers is very similar to your mother’s—numbing and fragrant.” Jingming couldn’t remember his mother’s cooking perfectly, but he remembered that hot-hearted neighbors like Aunt Xiang often helped his mother out during the holidays.

The ribs had a deep smoky aroma, and the bamboo shoots neutralized the greasiness. Jingming ate until a small mountain of bones formed on his plate. He took a sip of the beer. “So bitter.” “Craft beer is like that,” Chu Feng smiled, taking the glass. “Don’t drink it then. Give it to me.”

After dinner, the movie started. Chu Feng had two 500ml beers and was feeling a bit buzzed. Jingming worked on his laptop, occasionally glancing at the screen.

When the movie reached the bathroom bullying scene, Jingming heard another beer can open. Chu Feng was staring intensely at the screen.

By the end of the movie—an open ending—Chu Feng’s eyes were red again. His neck was flushed from the alcohol. “Why are you crying again?” Jingming asked, sitting beside him.

“I’m not,” Chu Feng shook his head, pulling Jingming into his arms. “Baby… was school like this for you?” Jingming thought he meant gay romance. “No, I just studied all the time.” “Not that.” Chu Feng looked into his eyes. “Did anyone bully you because you’re gay?”

Jingming’s heart melted. He shook his head. “No, Brother.” Chu Feng let out a sigh of relief, hugging him tight. “That’s good.”

Jingming giggled. “I thought you were asking if I dated boys.” “Oh?” Chu Feng’s hand slid down to Jingming’s waist, giving it a playful squeeze. “Did Baby do this with schoolmates then?” Jingming jumped from the tickling. “What if I did?”

Chu Feng froze. “…” “I didn’t!” Jingming punched his chest. “You’re so old-fashioned.” “I just want to know you better,” Chu Feng smiled. “Come here, let’s kiss.”

Chu Feng’s body heat was rising from the beer. His thin T-shirt couldn’t block the warmth, making Jingming feel flushed too. Chu Feng’s hand slid under Jingming’s shirt, moving from his lower back to his hips.

Jingming felt his strength draining. As they kissed passionately, Chu Feng pulled off his T-shirt. His fit upper body was bare, and as he tensed up, the gap between his jeans and waist revealed a glimpse of hair.

“Brother…” Jingming called out softly. Chu Feng pulled him onto his lap.

They kissed hungrily. When Chu Feng’s lips moved to his neck, Jingming let out a heavy moan. Jingming tried to pull his own shirt off, but Chu Feng was already burying his face against Jingming’s waist, his stubble grazing the delicate skin.

“Nn…” Jingming lost his strength. The thick calluses on Chu Feng’s hands provided a different kind of stimulation. “Say it, Baby…” Chu Feng’s voice was husky.

Outside, the rain began to fall, muffled thunder rolling in the distance. The sound of rain hitting the leaves masked Jingming’s shameful cries of “Brother.”

As the movie credits rolled, Chu Feng carried Jingming upstairs.

Jingming was inexperienced, and he assumed Chu Feng didn’t know much either—but he didn’t expect Chu Feng to try to go straight for it the moment the pants were off.

Jingming screamed in pain and scrambled away. Chu Feng stood by the bed, panting heavily, holding Jingming’s leg. “What’s wrong?” In the dim light of the streetlamp outside, Jingming looked at the sheer size of the “Old Cow” and gasped. “It hurts…” His legs were still shaking.

Chu Feng immediately reached for the light. “No!” Jingming shrieked, hiding under the duvet. “Don’t turn it on.” “Let me see if you’re hurt.” Chu Feng’s breath was ragged. He wasn’t shy; he was genuinely worried. “Please, no… lights off, Brother.”

Chu Feng turned the light off but asked, “Can I turn on the bedside lamp?” Jingming nodded.

In the soft glow of the lamp, Chu Feng lay on his side. His muscular arms were covered in a light sheen of sweat, glowing with a honey-like luster. He coaxed, “Let me see if there’s an injury.” Jingming insisted he was fine. “Then what happened?” Chu Feng wiped the sweat from Jingming’s forehead. Jingming poked his head out of the duvet, eyes wide. “You can’t just… do it directly.”

Chu Feng gave an embarrassed smile, licking his lips. “I’m sorry, Baby.” “Maybe you should… look up a tutorial? I’m going to go wash up.” “Oh… okay.”

Jingming found a video for him, but the second it started, Chu Feng scrambled away in a panic. “No, no!” He covered his eyes. “Why?” Jingming asked. Aren’t you gay now? “I don’t know… it looks gross. I don’t want to watch them.”

Jingming scratched his head and tried another. “Heavens—” Chu Feng didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I really can’t watch this. Don’t look for more, Baby. I only want to look at you.” “Then what do we do…” “You tell me. I’ll do what you say.”

Jingming dove under the covers. How is this supposed to work?! Lacking experience himself, Jingming could only give a vague explanation based on things he’d seen before.

Chu Feng found a bottle of “Dabao” moisturizer in a drawer. When Jingming returned from the bathroom, Chu Feng was lying on the bed, not even bothering to cover himself. Jingming’s face burned.

“Come here, Baby.”

The rain turned into a light drizzle. Jingming’s heart hammered against his ribs as he walked over.

…

“Ngh!” Seeing his own legs raised so high made Jingming collapse into embarrassment. He grabbed a pillow to hide his face. “Let me see your face,” Chu Feng whispered, kissing his collarbone. He poured some lotion onto his hand.

Chu Feng was already struggling with his own desire.

…

Jingming started to cry. Chu Feng’s hands, calloused from years of physical labor, were too rough. Jingming sobbed that it hurt. Chu Feng’s heart ached, but he didn’t know how to stop.

“Brother, Brother!” Jingming pushed his feet against Chu Feng’s chest. Chu Feng finally stopped, leaning over to kiss the tear tracks on Jingming’s face. Jingming was in distress, leaving several scratch marks on Chu Feng’s arm.

Even a finger was difficult, let alone the rest. Chu Feng was terrified now. He didn’t dare move. Jingming, flushed and drenched in sweat, gripped Chu Feng’s arm and whispered, “Please, no more.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Baby,” Chu Feng snapped out of it. Jingming, frustrated and hurt, rolled into the duvet and faced the wall, sobbing to himself.

“Baby?” Chu Feng hovered nearby, not daring to touch him. “I was wrong. I’m sorry. Are you hurt? Let me check?”

Jingming only cried harder. It’s over. My lifelong happiness is over.