My Roommate is a Gloomy, Sensitive Guy Who Cries Over Everything - Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Wife, You Forgot Again

The two of them walked back, step by step, their faces stiff from the biting wind.

By the time they returned, Xue Rong had finished her mahjong game and was working in the kitchen. Since a guest had arrived, she couldn’t serve leftovers; everything was freshly made. Looking at the mountain of meat, Lin Zhiyu felt greasy just looking at it. He didn’t eat much, opting mostly for the soup.

It was getting late, and since the electric scooter was a rental, Lou Chen had to ride it back to town. Lin Zhiyu stood at the door to see him off, his hands tucked deep into his sleeves.

A mist-blue down jacket, red padded pants, brown snow boots, a yellow hat, and a blue scarf—the color coordination was… eccentric, to say the least.

Lou Chen looked at the shrinking figure in his rearview mirror, thought for a moment, pulled out his phone, snapped a photo, and sent it to Lin Rangchuan.

“Your boyfriend seems to miss you.”

Lou Chen pulled the scooter over to the side of the road. “Are you really not going to tell him?”

A low, raspy voice came from the other end: “Mind your business.”

…

Lin Zhiyu didn’t stay at the door long before the night wind drove him back inside. Rural streetlights were scarce and couldn’t illuminate the vast fields; looking out, it was mostly an abyss of black. There was really nothing to see.

He shrugged his shoulders and headed back to his room with a heater. Passing Xue Rong’s room, he called out, “Mom, is it warm enough in there?”

Xue Rong, with her sturdy build, could withstand the cold. She replied with a full-throated voice, “Warmer than you. You’re so young, why do you always look so sickly?”

Lin Zhiyu was too embarrassed to point out that his mother’s constitution was sturdier than his; if they went for a check-up, the doctor might not be able to tell who the elder was. Of course, that was only in comparison to his mother. Compared to Yu Hechang, Lin Zhiyu was an athlete!

Lin Zhiyu shed his coat, grabbed a hand warmer, and crawled into bed. Leaving only a small lamp on the nightstand, he fumbled for his phone to message Lin Rangchuan.

[Xiao Yu: I want to drink the egg drop soup you make.] [Lin-ge: I’ll make it tomorrow.] [Xiao Yu: But you’re not even here.] [Lin-ge: I’ll give you the recipe.] [Xiao Yu: No, you have to make it.] [Lin-ge: Doing it right now.] [Lin-ge: You’ll drink it tomorrow.]

Even if it was just sweet talk, Lin Zhiyu was happy, not caring if it was true or not. He checked his social feed and ended up scrolling through short videos for hours. Perhaps due to the algorithm, since he hadn’t eaten his fill at dinner, his feed was full of mukbangs.

He was starving, and his eyes were tired; he didn’t even know when he drifted off.

He woke up suddenly, rolling over to turn off the light, when his phone buzzed. Lin Zhiyu picked it up and answered without looking. It was Lin Rangchuan.

“Mhm, sounds like you were asleep.” His voice was lazy, low, and sexy.

Lin Zhiyu woke up a bit and swallowed. “You’re not asleep at this hour?”

“I don’t know who said they wanted egg drop soup.”

Lin Zhiyu bit his lip and huddled back into his nest, acting cool. “It’s the middle of the night, why are you teasing my cravings?”

Then he heard Lin Rangchuan say: “Is that red brick wall your house?”

“…” “…………”

Lin Zhiyu’s eyes snapped open. He sat up, oblivious to the cold. “Where… where are you?”

“The wind is so strong, there aren’t even streetlights. It’s so dark.” Lin Rangchuan was also playing it cool. “Where am I? I don’t know either.”

Hearing this, Lin Zhiyu froze for a few seconds before stumbling into his slippers and clattering downstairs. He didn’t even care if he woke Xue Rong; he dashed out the front door.

The pitch-black backdrop of mountains and water looked eerie at night. Lin Rangchuan stood a short distance away, carrying something. Who knew how long he had been waiting?

Thinking it was a hallucination, Lin Zhiyu ran through the freezing wind and threw himself into Lin Rangchuan’s arms.

Lin Rangchuan stood firm. His overcoat smelled of melting snow—cold and refreshing. Neither spoke; they just held each other until Lin Zhiyu’s arms began to shake. His loungewear was nowhere near thick enough for the cold.

Exhaling clouds of white mist, Lin Zhiyu looked up at him, his eyes and nose red from the cold. Before he could speak, Lin Rangchuan took off his coat and draped it over him, then pulled him close again. His thin lips were cold as he lightly brushed them against the boy’s cheek.

“So eager to see me? You missed me that much?” Lin Rangchuan turned the tables. “You really know how to torture me, wife.”

He had imagined his wife coming out anxiously to meet him, caring for him; but touching him made it real. The feeling was quite good.

Lin Zhiyu held him tight, feeling warm from top to bottom. He wriggled in his arms and let out a few proud snorts.

Lin Rangchuan remembered when they were very small, and Lin Zhiyu had taken him to a small cave. Even though it was freezing, Lin Zhiyu had acted like a little adult to take care of him, curling up in his arms once asleep, only to put back on the “adult” face upon waking.

He was just like that now, only he wasn’t pretending to be an adult anymore.

Lin Rangchuan tightened his grip and lifted him up. “Where am I sleeping?”

Lin Zhiyu wasn’t cold anymore; instead, he felt hungry and warm. He clung to his neck, refusing to let go, even sliding his hands inside his collar. He felt the curve of Lin Rangchuan’s back muscles and said lazily, “With me, of course.”

Lin Rangchuan adjusted his hold and carried him through the front door openly, like a groom carrying his bride into the wedding chamber.

Lin Zhiyu was exhausted and sensitive to the cold, so he pressed himself close, his lips brushing against the other’s neck with every step. He was completely tucked into the man’s embrace.

“Do you want the soup?”

Lin Zhiyu frowned. “It must be cold by now.”

“It’s in a thermos. It’s perfect right now.”

Lin Zhiyu gave a muffled grunt, but his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl, waking him up completely.

Inside the room, with the windows and door closed, it was much warmer. But Lin Zhiyu still wouldn’t let go, hanging onto Lin Rangchuan as if he were dreaming.

Lin Rangchuan placed him on the bed. The mattress was soft, and as he sank in, ripples of fabric gathered around him. Lin Zhiyu lay in the middle, staring at him blankly.

They stared at each other in the silence as if time had stopped, until Lin Rangchuan leaned down, his hot lips and tongue making contact. Lin Zhiyu’s body shivered, and he timidly poked out the tip of his tongue to respond.

Adam’s apple was taken into a warm, wet mouth. His jacket fell open like a blooming flower. Lin Zhiyu pressed his legs together, rubbing them in restless discomfort. Lin Rangchuan moved his kisses down from the throat, and when he reached the stomach, the soft skin rose and fell as it let out a loud, hungry rumble.

Lin Zhiyu grabbed a nearby pillow and covered his face. His exposed skin turned a shy pink, beautiful as a work of art in a museum.

His arms were pulled up, and he was held limp against Lin Rangchuan’s chest like a ragdoll while the other man meticulously buttoned his pajamas for him, inch by inch.

His chest felt slightly hot, with lingering teeth marks. Lin Zhiyu wanted to rub them but felt too embarrassed, so he just glared resentfully.

Lin Rangchuan hadn’t even taken off his sweater or shirt; only his collar was slightly disheveled. He looked refined and scholarly, showing no trace of the “beastly” things he had just done.

Lin Rangchuan pinched Lin Zhiyu’s cheek and leaned in to bite. Lin Zhiyu pushed him away half-heartedly, like flirting. Lin Rangchuan gave a low laugh and insistently wetted his lips.

“Wife,” he began to call out piteously.

Lin Zhiyu was helpless. He cupped the man’s head and gave him a kiss. “Your wife is about to die of hunger.”

Lin Rangchuan’s heart skipped a beat. He covered the boy’s legs, tucked the hand warmer in, and got up to move the desk to the bedside. He opened the thermos; the egg drop soup was light in color, fragrant, and warming. He poured a small bowl, and Lin Zhiyu sipped it slowly.

It wasn’t some miraculous soup; it was just light and warm, much like the current atmosphere. Lin Rangchuan finished the rest of the thermos that his wife couldn’t drink.

After eating, Lin Zhiyu felt much more alert. Not sleepy anymore, he remembered something, grabbed his down jacket from the back of the chair, and pulled out a red envelope. He shoved it into Lin Rangchuan’s hand. “It’s not much, just a couple hundred, for good luck. Happy New Year, Brother Lin.”

Lin Rangchuan was visibly stunned. Lin Zhiyu tilted his head and smiled, watching his reaction.

Lin Rangchuan touched the envelope. “For me?”

“Yes, for you.” Lin Zhiyu pulled out another one. “This one is for when we get back to the small courtyard. Put it under your pillow. Eleven yuan, to ensure your peace and prosperity.” After showing it off, he tucked it away.

Lin Rangchuan looked down, his vision blurring for a moment before clearing. After a long while, he said, “This is the first time I’ve ever received one.”

“The first time? Not even before?”

“Never.” Lin Rangchuan’s eyelashes cast shadows in the dim light, exuding a faint air of desolation.

Lin Zhiyu didn’t push. Instead, he hugged him, using his warmth to pull him back to reality.

Having drunk a lot of soup, Lin Zhiyu’s winter bladder kicked in. He got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Lin Rangchuan sat on the edge of the bed, folding his coat and Lin Zhiyu’s together, looking at the red envelope on the desk. He stared at it for a long time before neurotically picking it up and sniffing it. It carried a faint fragrance, and the corners were wrinkled as if it had been kept carefully in someone’s pocket for a long time.

Lin Rangchuan inhaled deeply, his high nose bridge brushing against it, imagining this was the scent of his wife.

…

After the bathroom, Lin Zhiyu stopped halfway up the stairs. Xue Rong had stepped out, her face dark. “Are you doing renovations in the middle of the night?”

“…”

Xue Rong had been woken up. She said a few words and was about to turn back when Lin Zhiyu called out, “Mom, can I go out with a classmate for a week?”

Xue Rong: “Suit yourself…” She looked at him again. “It’s good for you to go out, so you don’t have to deal with those people.”

She was referring to his father’s relatives. They didn’t visit much, and the relationship was thin—especially after Lin’s father passed away; they had stayed away for a while, fearing they’d be asked for money. But Xue Rong was proud and never asked for a cent. They maintained superficial relations for the New Year, but she didn’t want Lin Zhiyu involved. By his generation, they might as well cut ties; Xue Rong would handle the pleasantries herself.

Lin Zhiyu knew enough about the drama. It always circled back to money. He was a high achiever, and they were jealous. “What? Are they coming again? Last year we had a fight, and they couldn’t win. I thought they were too embarrassed to come back.”

Thinking back on it was satisfying. His second aunt’s son was his age, and they compared everything. He went to some expensive private high school in the city, but failed his exams, got mixed up with the wrong crowd, and even got someone pregnant. Lin Zhiyu had “read out” those facts in public, turning his second aunt’s face green.

Xue Rong smiled at the memory. “Adult matters, don’t worry about it. You go play.”

Lin Zhiyu wanted to say more, but Xue Rong turned back with a sharp look. “You’re going out to play. Don’t worry about it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

Back in the room, Lin Zhiyu jumped onto the bed, rolled around, and bundled himself into Lin Rangchuan’s arms. “Take me away tomorrow.”

Lin Rangchuan opened his eyes. “Eloping?”

“Mhm—”

Lin Rangchuan stopped smiling. “Am I that hard to show off?” He slid his hand under the boy’s shirt, feeling the smooth skin of his back. “It’s my fault for not doing enough, making my wife wander with me.”

Lin Zhiyu knew he was talking nonsense. Feeling comfortable under his touch, he mumbled, “Save the ‘wife’ talk for later.”

Lin Rangchuan acted like he was soothing a baby, making Lin Zhiyu’s body warm up quickly until the heater wasn’t even needed.

Lin Zhiyu: “Where will I stay?”

“The agencies are on holiday,” Lin Rangchuan said coolly.

Lin Zhiyu pinched his arm. “Seriously. Lou Chen said you were staying at home. Am I going there too?”

The hand on his back stopped moving. The atmosphere around the man turned icy. Lin Zhiyu shivered and opened his eyes. “Lin Rangchuan?”

Lin Rangchuan’s expression was cold, but meeting Lin Zhiyu’s innocent gaze, he spoke slowly. “You’re so curious, wife. But I like that you’re taking the initiative to get to know me.”

Lin Zhiyu didn’t hide it. “Yeah.” He bit his lip. “If my boyfriend isn’t happy, then I won’t be happy either…”

“Alright.” He agreed.

Lin Rangchuan smiled, a dark expression. “Just for one meeting.”

Lin Rangchuan saw Lin Zhiyu’s unhidden worry and gravity. To Lin Rangchuan, it was a simple temptation. At first, he felt the discomfort of his territory being invaded, but then he realized: this was the blade he had once held, the blood flowing from his palm, quietly warming his heart even as it bled.

How could he be angry? This was the person he had decided would be his wife for life.

…

Lin Zhiyu didn’t sleep long. Around seven or eight, he was shaken awake. In his half-dreaming state, he felt something hard poking against his belly.

A very familiar feeling.

Lin Zhiyu snapped awake. His earlobe was being nibbled, and hot breath called him “wife” over and over. Sticky, cold, yet carrying a hint of heat—it made Lin Zhiyu feel stirred and hazy.

This wasn’t rare; Lin Rangchuan’s “fire” was always high, especially in the sensitive morning hours. He was still tired, his eyes barely open, but his hand instinctively reached out. His pants slid down from his waist to his knees.

The bed frame wasn’t exactly fragile, but the movements were too large, making it creak as if it were about to break. Lin Zhiyu was still drifting, his body being handled, letting out delicate whimpers.

Who knows how much later it was, but he fell back to sleep. When he finally woke, it was nearly eleven. His first instinct was discomfort. Looking down, things were still as they were. Even though it was calm now—not as “passionate” as the battle—the size was still startling.

Lin Zhiyu blinked and stared at Lin Rangchuan, who was sleeping on his side. His hair was short now, revealing his sharp brows. Asleep, he didn’t look like a delinquent; he looked quite refined.

If you ignored that part…

So handsome… Lin Zhiyu couldn’t help but stare for a long time until his side went numb. He tried to move quietly, but Lin Rangchuan wouldn’t let go. Lin Zhiyu shifted his gaze to the plush toy at the foot of the bed. Lin Rangchuan continued to hold him unconsciously, his breathing steady. Lin Zhiyu put on his pants, watched him, and kissed his forehead.

It was almost noon. Xue Rong was nowhere to be found, and there was no breakfast. Starving, Lin Zhiyu looked at the brown sugar glutinous rice cakes prepared for the gods. The skin was thin and crispy, the inside soft, sweet, and chewy. He swallowed, stole a few, and put them in a plastic bag for Lin Rangchuan to try.

“Where did this little thief come from?”

Lin Zhiyu turned to see Xue Rong holding a vegetable basket. He guiltily shifted his eyes and gave a flattering smile. “Mom.”

Xue Rong didn’t want to argue. “When are you leaving?”

“After lunch.” Lin Zhiyu licked his lips.

Xue Rong wasn’t eating here at noon; she had a date with Auntie San to go to town and check on the shop. Come to think of it, Lin Zhiyu had never been there, but since she didn’t want him involved, he just let her focus on her business.

“I’ll just eat a bit.” He shook the plastic bag. “I’ll eat in my room while I pack. Don’t worry about me.”

Xue Rong ignored him. Lin Zhiyu didn’t dare poke the tigress and slipped away. When he entered the room, Lin Rangchuan was awake. He instinctively looked at the bear plush, thinking Lin Rangchuan would have thrown it aside in anger, but the bear was tucked neatly into the bed under the covers.

Lin Zhiyu brought him water to wash up on the balcony. Though not as convenient as the bathroom, downstairs was out of the question.

Lin Rangchuan held a toothbrush in his mouth, looking out from the balcony and planning a route. “Mhm, if we’re caught, it’ll be easier to escape.”

“Should I jump straight down, or… jump straight down?” He tilted his head, considering the feasibility. “What to do? My wife insists on hiding me. It can’t be helped.” He gave a slight smile.

Lin Zhiyu looked up. The sunlight was intense, shining on Lin Rangchuan’s dark eyes. With his hair cut, he looked different—his brows were no longer hidden by bangs. One might have expected him to look more sunny. Instead, it only exposed his darkest side more clearly.

Just then, Lin Rangchuan turned his head, his smile widening. “Wife, what are you looking at?”

Before he could answer, Lin Rangchuan’s dark eyes looked down. He knelt in front of Lin Zhiyu, who was packing clothes, and spoke in a regretful tone.

“Wife, you forgot to wear the hand-cord I made for you again.”