Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 44

Chapter 44: The Kiss — You’ve Had Enough

The air was so thick with tension that it made his whole body feel feverish. Behind him was a wall; in front of him was another “wall.”

It was rare for Su Wen to feel this kind of double-bind—a sensation of being speechless and completely at someone else’s mercy. He instinctively reached out to push the “wall” in front of him away. But as soon as his hand moved, it was caught.

He looked up to see Yun Shu’s face filled with loneliness. Though he looked dejected, Su Wen couldn’t shake the feeling that behind those eyes, there was a flicker of something much more fervent.

Yun Shu held his hand, head bowed, looking up at him as two crystal-clear tears rolled down his cheeks right on cue. By all rights, he was a 190cm, dark-skinned, sturdy man, but…

Su Wen’s heart softened inexplicably. This look was truly… pitiful.

As someone used to taking the lead, Su Wen cleared his throat and brought up that eternal, deliberate hurdle again: “How am I supposed to know who you actually like?”

Su Wen leaned into his ear, his voice a feather-light whisper: “You’re the one who liked two people at the very same time, aren’t you?”

“Hmm?”

Yun Shu didn’t say a word. He knelt down, one arm circling Su Wen’s waist while the other captured Su Wen’s hand. He looked up, gazing into Su Wen’s teasing eyes, and pressed that hand against his own rapidly thumping heart.

His voice was almost hoarse; he could truly feel Su Wen’s body heat flowing into him. The love he craved and everything related to it was now at a distance of 0.00 from him.

Mimicking every leading man in a romance movie who meets his destiny, he offered a sincere and passionate invitation to the person he had loved from the past, through the present, and into the future:

“Brother, I love you. I want to be with you forever. Don’t abandon me, okay?”

He’s like a little kitten that was once thrown away. That was Su Wen’s first thought.

But the thought was quickly discarded. Even if he was a discarded kitten, he had been picked up now.

Su Wen leaned down, cupping Yun Shu’s face. He arched an eyebrow, his dimple appearing in a beautiful curve. “How do you want me to say it?”

Yun Shu blinked. “You say…”

“Mm,” Su Wen mimicked him like a fledgling. “I say… what comes next?”

“You say: ‘I love you.'”

“Mm-hmm. I love you.”

“And: ‘I want to be with you forever.'”

Su Wen tilted his head and pinched Yun Shu’s cheek before continuing, “I want to be with you forever.”

“And: ‘I won’t abandon you.'”

“Hahaha,” Su Wen burst out laughing, but still followed along. “I won’t abandon you. You really are… mmm…”

Too cute. Before he could finish his sentence, his lips were suddenly sealed.

Before he could react, the back of his head was gently pressed forward. Yun Shu kissed him inch by inch, their soft lips and tongues meeting. The room’s temperature spiked, and the atmosphere turned heavy with desire.

A few seconds later, Su Wen couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped Yun Shu’s chin, moving his head to the side. He wiped his face hard with his other hand, frowned, thought for a moment, and then let go. “Your kissing skills… really…”

Yun Shu raised his eyebrows, looking at him.

“Are terrible.”

Yun Shu’s face fell, and even his eyes drooped. Not just bad, not just very bad—terrible.

Su Wen had been acting for many years and had filmed more than a few kiss scenes. No one had ever been like Yun Shu. It was like a cat licking food—licking everywhere without any technique, and he had a habit of blocking Su Wen’s mouth so thoroughly that he blocked his breathing too.

Su Wen pinched his face and shook it. “Are you trying to suffocate me?”

Yun Shu wrapped both arms around Su Wen’s waist, his face pressing against Su Wen’s lower abdomen as he nuzzled him twice. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

His eyes still held a hint of lingering desire; that didn’t look like someone saying “I’m sorry.”

Su Wen tapped him lightly on the forehead. “You need to learn how to kiss, you know that?”

Yun Shu caught his hand, gently rubbing the inside of Su Wen’s wrist—whether he was boasting or just trying to reassure him, he said: “I’m a very good learner.”

He wasn’t bragging. Su Wen should have realized that long ago. He should have realized it when he learned Yun Shu had made it from a tiny city like Xiping and a remote village like Sare to Linzhou University purely on his own. He should have realized it when Yun Shu said he was recommended for admission to grad school.

He definitely shouldn’t have just realized it now, while being pinned against a stool in the dressing room.

He had his arms around Yun Shu’s neck, feeling completely lightheaded. His mind drifted between the lemon-mint scent of toothpaste and the regret of arriving early today. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sitting here in his full formal attire with the makeup artist still half an hour away.

Yun Shu truly was a studious “child.” He even squeezed this short half-hour to practice diligently.

This tiny dressing room was a temporary space the village had partitioned off for Su Wen—narrow and barely large enough for one person to change comfortably. Yun Shu had found a gap and slipped in, pinning Su Wen onto the soft stool, eager to demonstrate the results of his single day of study.

“Hah… Yun Shu,” Su Wen panted, his arms still draped over the other’s neck. “You’ve had enough.”

He was wearing another formal robe embroidered with gold thread, making him look tall and elegant. But Yun Shu had discovered a different, even more beautiful way for him to wear it.

Su Wen’s face was flushed. The temperature in the dressing room had risen so sharply that he had to pull his collar open to get some air. Yun Shu instinctively swallowed, his rough fingertips tracing Su Wen’s cheek, moving down to the slender neck and the beautiful, clear collarbones hidden beneath the wool sweater.

He gently rubbed the nearly faded bite marks on the collarbone, leaned in, and left a kiss there.

“Sss—!”

Su Wen grabbed his hair and pulled his head away. “You bit me again!”

Yun Shu didn’t have the guilt he’d felt the first time; his eyes were full of “entitlement,” and upon closer look, a bit of “lingering hunger.” He licked his own prominent canines, looking at the two deepened little teeth marks on the collarbone, and felt another surge of excitement.

Su Wen’s lips, slightly swollen from the kissing, were moving as he said something, but Yun Shu couldn’t hear a thing. The next second, he blocked that mouth again.

Time melted into a long, lingering kiss until the phone in his pocket vibrated. Only then did Su Wen push Yun Shu away. As he answered the call, he shot Yun Shu a “knife” of a glare.

Yun Shu, fully utilizing the first rule of being thick-skinned—if you act shameless, you won’t be kicked out—squeezed right next to Su Wen on the soft stool. Pressed against this high-temperature “beast,” the already hot dressing room felt like an oven. But Su Wen couldn’t take his clothes off, so he just had to endure it.

On the phone, Cheng Daozhi personally informed him to be in Room 107 on the first floor of the scenic area office within five minutes for makeup. After that, they would do the final filming rehearsal.

The makeup room was in the building next door; even a leisurely walk wouldn’t take more than two minutes. Su Wen stood up, quickly did up his collar, and prepared to leave. Seeing Yun Shu about to stand up as well, a mischievous idea sparked in his mind.

“We still have two minutes,” he said, pushing Yun Shu back onto the stool.

Yun Shu sat there, face full of expectation, unsure of what was coming. Su Wen leaned in for a kiss as light as a dragonfly skimming water, and just as Yun Shu turned his head to deepen it, Su Wen firmly held his face still. “Don’t move.”

Then, as if on purpose, he didn’t go deep or use force. He just lightly grazed his cheek, his neck, and…

“Sss—!”

Su Wen looked at his reaction with great satisfaction, noting the two rows of clear bite marks on Yun Shu’s collarbone. He patted Yun Shu’s face, which was now red all the way to the tips of his ears, and stopped the “punishment.”

“Let’s go. What are you waiting for?”

…

After three consecutive rehearsals, Cheng Daozhi had accounted for every scenario, including excessive crowds or chaos caused by Su Wen’s fans. By now, she was looking at the camera angles with immense satisfaction, certain they had reached a state of perfect presentation.

Almost everyone in the crew was sporting massive dark circles from staying up, but the final product was sure to be a masterpiece that wouldn’t disappoint.

This year’s Mountain God Festival was a grand affair. The location was the largest Mountain God Temple, situated at the very top of the slope in Sare Village. Inside the temple, colorful prayer flags hung everywhere; outside, a massive pile of pine and cypress branches, which had been accumulating for a year, was set ablaze. Those coming for the Wei Sang ceremony wore their most important formal attire of the year to show their respect for the Mountain God.

In the crowd, Su Wen glanced at Yun Shu. He was wearing formal attire embroidered with silver thread, his head bowed piously in prayer, making some unknown wish.

The smoke produced by burning pine and cypress branches is called “Wei Sang” by the locals. The three priests of the temple stood at the front of the sacrificial procession, eyes downcast, chanting slowly. The pine smoke rose high, carrying the people’s gratitude to the Mountain God into the distance.

As the chanting ended, villagers and tourists moved in an orderly fashion toward the burning branches, throwing in pine twigs that carried their best wishes for a peaceful and smooth year ahead.

Cheng Daozhi’s drones took to the sky, and several photographers wove through the crowd. One of them followed Su Wen and Yun Shu closely.

The mountain wind blew, carrying the rising smoke into the valley, toward the places closer to the Mountain God, Songcuo Lan. The crowd cheered, as if their thanks had been heard. People threw their “Wind Horse” papers high into the air; the multicolored slips of paper danced in the mountains, fluttering toward the horizon.

Su Wen reached out and caught a white piece of Wind Horse paper that drifted toward him. It had two lines of a minority language written on it. He couldn’t read it, so he looked at Yun Shu.

Yun Shu looked at the text on the paper and said, “It’s an excerpt from the scriptures, a requirement the Mountain God sets for himself. It means:”

“May I be like the void and the earth, forever supporting all boundless sentient beings and life.”

The mountain wind blew again. Su Wen tossed the paper upward. The white Wind Horse paper fluttered with the wind, flying deep into the valley.