In a Relationship With the Rugged Guy Next Door - Chapter 39

Chapter 39: “Brother Only Knows Sweety Talk…”

“I think spicy is better.” “Garlic is the king of crawfish.” “Make some braised ones, I love braised ones.” “I just want some mixed noodles on the side.” “Thirteen-spice is also good.”

“What about you?” Hu Xianyun turned to Chen Jingming. “Why are you spacing out?” She poked him. “Did you catch a cold from swimming?”

Jingming snapped back to reality. “Huh?”

“Asking what flavor you want.”

“Oh… garlic. I love garlic.”

“Chen Jingming!” Hu Xianyun squinted, waving a hand in front of his face. “Did you lose your soul back there?”

Jingming’s breath hitched for a second as a memory flashed—the dark river, the large rock, and Chu Feng submerged for over two minutes. “No, no… I’m just tired.”

“Why is Xianyun so good to Jingming?” asked Qian-ge, an older guy in the group. He pushed up his glasses wisely. “Do you like little Jingming?”

The car erupted in laughter. Chen Lang laughed the loudest.

“What’s so funny?” Qian-ge asked. “They’re childhood friends; it’s natural.”

Hu Xianyun’s smile was mysterious. “It’s not like that. I wouldn’t dare.”

Qian-ge turned to Chu Feng. “Feng-ge, what do you think? Don’t they look like a good match?”

Chu Feng didn’t even look back. “Not at all.”

Jingming caught Chu Feng’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t see his face, but Chu Feng had his hands behind his head, looking very pleased with himself—likely because he had shattered his breath-holding record the night before.

…

The Marketplace and the Diagnosis

The next morning, Jingming went to a large rural market with Hu Xianyun.

In the crowd, they found a famous Miao doctor. A young girl—the doctor’s granddaughter—and a tanned, fierce-looking young man were dispensing medicine.

“That guy is the ‘adopted son-in-law’ the doctor raised for his granddaughter,” Hu Xianyun whispered.

Jingming laughed. “You can ‘arrange’ a grandson-in-law?”

“Your brother arranged a husband for you,” Hu Xianyun teased. “And when he couldn’t find a good one, he just did it himself.”

Jingming grinned. “Fair point.”

When it was their turn, the young female doctor looked at Jingming. She checked his tongue, his nails, and even sniffed the air around him.

“Too much worrying, some internal heat, and a weak constitution,” she said bluntly. Then, she looked at Hu Xianyun and added a cryptic warning to Jingming: “Control the duration of individual sessions. Otherwise, the summer heat combined with ‘deficiency’ will hurt your body.”

Jingming’s face turned so red he felt steam might actually come out of his ears.

“Duration of what? Control what?” Hu Xianyun asked, confused.

“Xianyun! Let’s go!” Jingming dragged her away. He knew exactly what the doctor had detected from his “physical state.”

…

Sweety Talk

Back home, Jingming showered and looked at himself in the mirror. Am I really that fast? He wondered. Compared to his brother… Well, everyone was fast compared to Chu Feng. Thank god I’m a ‘0’, he thought, otherwise I’d be in trouble.

He sat down to work on his new script. The protagonist was named Cao Heng.

The first line he typed was: His death anniversary was October 5th. Every year on this day, his parents went to sweep his grave. Because the date always brought back their agony, Cao Heng’s National Day holidays were never pleasant, and the family never traveled together.

Directly facing his past was hard, but necessary.

Later, Chu Feng came home with a bundle of straw. “We’re making Zongzi (sticky rice dumplings). For ‘Grey Zongzi,’ we mix plant ash into the glutinous rice.”

“Can you eat ash?” Jingming was shocked.

“Chestnut Grey Zongzi was your favorite as a kid,” Chu Feng said.

Jingming didn’t remember the taste, but he remembered calling his mother a “Magic Queen” because Zongzi would magically appear at every Dragon Boat Festival. Now he realized she just bought them at the market.

Chu Feng, hot from work, took off his shirt. A drop of sweat rolled down his chest, tracing the lines of his abs.

“Brother,” Jingming said, feeling a bit mischievous. “Do you know what ‘dirty talk’ is?”

Chu Feng frowned. “Dirty talk?”

“It’s… saying ‘bad’ things while being intimate.”

“No,” Chu Feng refused immediately. “Brother only knows sweety talk.”

Jingming felt a bit disappointed until Chu Feng leaned in and whispered: “Baby is sweeter than a watermelon. Sweet and juicy.”

Jingming: “…”

…

The Zongzi Lesson

On Monday night, they prepared the Zongzi in the courtyard. Chu Feng burned the straw into ash, his forehead dripping with sweat.

“Straw ash is a plant alkali,” Chu Feng explained. “It makes the rice softer and helps digestion.”

Jingming sat beside him, trying to fold the bamboo leaves into a funnel. He added rice, marinated pork, and chestnuts. But when he tried to tie it with straw, the rice leaked everywhere.

“Let Brother help,” Chu Feng chuckled. He moved his stool behind Jingming, wrapping his arms around him to teach him hand-over-hand.

The contact was electric. Chu Feng’s bare, hot chest pressed against Jingming’s back.

“Baby…” Chu Feng pecked Jingming’s cheek.

Jingming tilted his head, subconsciously puckering his lips. “Brother…”

Suddenly, the courtyard gate swung open.

“Holy crap!” Chen Lang stood there, staring. “Are you guys playing Ghost again?”