In a Relationship With the Rugged Guy Next Door - Chapter 47

Chapter 47: “Brother, I am very happy now.”

Chen Jingming and Chu Feng were late.

Chen Lang and Fu Yu had already taken the two girls to the restaurant, ordered the food, and were waiting for the dishes to arrive when the two finally made their appearance.

Jingming looked a bit out of sorts, and everyone asked him what was wrong.

“He has a bit of a cold. I had him drink some hot water and rest for a while,” Chu Feng explained.

Jingming pursed his lips slightly. “Yeah, the rafting was a bit cold.”

“Your face does look a bit flushed,” Xue Dongni noted.

“And your voice is raspy,” Hu Xianyun added.

“Can you still drink, then?” Chen Lang asked.

“Hey!” Hu Xianyun shot Lang a glare. “He’s sick and you want him to drink? Do you have a soul?”

Chen Lang shrugged and exchanged a look with Fu Yu. Fu Yu cleared his throat and pretended to be oblivious.

Earlier, while they were at the inn, Fu Yu had gone downstairs to buy something for Chen Lang. As he passed Jingming and Chu Feng’s room, he heard the constant sound of the shower. He went out, came back thirty minutes later, and the shower was still running.

What kind of man showers for over half an hour?

When Jingming went to sit down, he wasn’t careful and sat too hard. The pain made him clench his fists.

Chu Feng hadn’t been gentle at all this afternoon. Taking advantage of the fact that Jingming didn’t dare make a sound, he had been quite willful. Standing up was exhausting, but Chu Feng wouldn’t let them move to the bed until the very end. By the second half, Jingming’s legs were so weak he couldn’t stand; he had to prop one hand against the wall and throw the other around Chu Feng’s neck for support.

Jingming had cried that he was hungry and had no strength, but Chu Feng had been wicked enough to ask, “Aren’t you eating right now?”

Dongni, thinking they had fought, patted his shoulder. “Have some sunflower seeds. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m… I’m not mad,” Jingming denied quickly, terrified of being found out. “I’m just hungry. I woke up hungry.”

“Good. The food is coming. We ordered a big grilled fish and lots of BBQ.”

“Is there anything… light?” Jingming asked.

“Yes,” Fu Yu spoke up.

“We ordered a few vegetable dishes and some poached chicken,” Chen Lang added.

Jingming nodded, then pushed Chu Feng’s hand off his thigh.

“Baby,” Chu Feng leaned in and whispered.

“What?”

Chu Feng carefully massaged his waist. “I was wrong. Don’t be mad, okay?”

Everyone was watching. Usually, Chu Feng was the picture of maturity, but today he was shamelessly coaxing Jingming in public.

“Forgive me,” Chu Feng pleaded.

Jingming wasn’t truly angry; he was just embarrassed by the attention. “What did you do, Old Cow?” Xianyun asked.

“It was just cold from the water, not anyone’s fault,” Dongni added. “Jingming, don’t be mad. You’ll feel better after a night’s sleep.”

Jingming looked up and saw Chu Feng’s face turning red with embarrassment. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, I’m not mad anymore.”

Chu Feng breathed a sigh of relief and reached out to tidy Jingming’s wind-blown hair.

…

The Mid-Life Crisis of a Script

The dinner was lively. They swapped the bland beer for local craft brew and shared photos from the day. Hu Xianyun posted a “nine-grid” photo set on social media, but when Chu Feng saw it, he nearly spat out his drink.

The center photo was a group shot of everyone soaking wet and smiling at the finish line. However, Hu Xianyun had placed stickers over the “crotch areas” of both Chu Feng and Fu Yu.

“How thoughtful of me, right?” Xianyun smirked.

The night ended with drinking games and Chen Lang singing a love song for Fu Yu (while jokingly dedicating it to Xianyun). They returned to the inn late and slept until noon the next day before heading back to Changxi.

Once home, Chen Jingming and Xue Dongni insisted on following Chu Feng to the ranch. As the sun began to set, the ranch looked breathtaking.

“It’s not what I imagined,” Dongni said. “What did you imagine, Nini?” “I thought it would just be piles of cow dung.” “If you want to see dung, go to the pens with Baby,” Chu Feng laughed.

While Chu Feng worked, Jingming took Dongni for a walk. She eventually asked, “How’s the new script coming along?”

“Not finished,” Jingming said, his ears turning red. Dongni didn’t believe him. Usually, when he was writing well, his eyes sparkled. Now, he seemed hesitant.

Back at the ranch canteen for dinner, Chu Feng called out, “Baby! Over here!”

“Have you guys officially come out?” Dongni whispered. “No.” “Then why does he call you ‘Baby’ like that?” “I was embarrassed at first,” Jingming smiled. “But now everyone is just used to it.”

When Jingming went to the restroom, Dongni turned to Chu Feng. “Old Cow, is his writing not going well?”

Chu Feng nodded. “He finished it a while ago, but he keeps deleting and changing things. He won’t let me see it.”

“Then we have to use force,” Dongni decided. “He’s too sensitive and afraid of disappointing people. If he keeps it bottled up, it’ll just eat him alive. I’m in the industry; I can help him.”

…

The Unlocking

At 9:00 PM, back at the house, Jingming was ambushed. Chu Feng and Dongni practically carried him to the sofa and plopped his laptop on his lap.

“Password,” Dongni commanded. “I know it’s done.”

Jingming looked at Chu Feng, who looked away guiltily. “I don’t want you to see it.” He didn’t want Chu Feng to be sad, and he didn’t want Dongni to be disappointed.

But Dongni was firm. She literally grabbed his finger to press it against the scanner. “Brother! Help me!” Jingming yelled.

Chu Feng stood there, reached out a hand, and then pulled it back. He knew he should be on “Baby’s” side, but he also knew Dongni was right. He sat on the coffee table and simply said, “Don’t fight.”

Click. The laptop unlocked.

Jingming sighed and handed it over. “Brother, please don’t look.” “No,” Chu Feng said softly. “I want to see.”

Forty minutes later, Dongni realized why Jingming didn’t want Chu Feng to see it. Seeing a 6’2″ burly man sob was actually quite terrifying.

“I’ll handle this,” Jingming sat next to Chu Feng and rubbed his back. “Brother, don’t be sad. Come here.”

Chu Feng pulled Jingming into a crushing hug, his muffled sobs breaking Jingming’s heart. “Is this how your life felt? Baby… it’s too bitter. It’s all my fault.”

The story was about an adopted boy named Xiaotian who lived a gray, repressed life. He lied to a happy online friend about his “perfect family,” stealing snippets of “happiness” he observed from others. When he finally stole his father’s car keys to drive to Tibet to find the happiness he promised his friend, the friend messaged him saying she was getting married and leaving. Xiaotian realized his fantasy was over. On the road to Lhasa, he crashed his car. As he bled out, he threw his phone—his only connection to his lies—out the window.

The script ended with a stark “END.”

It was a tragic road movie. Dongni realized that while the plot had flaws because Jingming was too afraid to write the truly “dark” parts of his own life, it was a raw, honest piece of work.

“Jingming…” Dongni whispered. Did he ever think about escaping like that? About dying?

Outside, the rain began to pour, drumming loudly against the roof.

Jingming leaned his head against Chu Feng’s chest. He wasn’t as sad as Chu Feng; in fact, he felt a strange sense of peace.

“Brother.” “Mhm.” “In my story, the sun was bright, but my eyes were always wet. In Changxi, it’s always raining, but your arms are always dry and warm.”

Jingming cupped Chu Feng’s face. “Brother, I am very happy now.”