Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 47

Chapter 47: I Can… I Know… What to Do

On the laptop screen before him was infrared surveillance footage of snow leopards. He had just asked Song Nan for it, and Song Nan had sent over a dozen clips.

The mother snow leopard was lying in her den, facing outward, occasionally taking a bite of a meat chunk nearby. If he adjusted the angle and looked closely, he could see two fluffy little balls nursing under her belly.

Su Wen’s heart softened instantly, followed by a wave of inexplicable sadness.

The snow leopard hadn’t visited for several days. He didn’t know if it had simply stopped coming or if something was preventing it from doing so. On the first day, he thought it was a coincidence, but now the third, fourth, and fifth days had passed.

In short, it wasn’t coming.

Ever since that first night he spent sleeping with Yun Shu, it hadn’t returned. Su Wen had crouched by the window for a long time but couldn’t find even a shadow of a leopard hair. Over the past few days, he had been staying up very late, terrified of missing its arrival. Yun Shu kept urging him to sleep, but he wouldn’t listen, resulting in him looking sickly the next day—though he wasn’t actually ill.

Still, Cheng Daozhi had granted him a special day off to go back and rest properly.

When Yun Shu pushed the door open and entered, Su Wen was staring blankly at the snow leopards on the screen. Yun Shu sat on the edge of the bed, leaned in, and gently nuzzled Su Wen’s neck. Once Su Wen reacted and rubbed his head, Yun Shu asked:

“Are you going to keep waiting if it doesn’t come?”

Su Wen let out a long sigh. “I never used to miss a night before.” (Except, of course, when he wasn’t there).

Yun Shu shifted closer and pulled him into a full embrace. “Won’t it be enough if I stay with you?”

Su Wen frowned at him. “How is that the same?”

Yun Shu blinked. “Is it not?”

Su Wen stared at him for a moment before letting out a soft laugh and pinching his cheek. “Why are you comparing yourself to an animal? It’s not like I can date a snow leopard.”

Yun Shu’s expression darkened inexplicably. He held him in silence for a long time. After a while, as if remembering something, he pressed Su Wen down, cradled the back of his head with one hand, and kissed him.

Su Wen deeply regretted ever urging him to learn how to kiss. This guy’s mouth seemed to itch constantly, and whenever it itched, he wanted to kiss—and once he started, he wouldn’t stop. Su Wen pushed twice, but failed; his body compromised before his brain did.

While his mind was thinking about teaching him moderation later, his hands had already circled Yun Shu’s neck. As the kiss deepened, he found himself drowning in it.

Until a hand slipped unimpeded under his shirt. A rough palm wandered around before finally settling on his chest.

Su Wen woke up. He woke up completely.

He grabbed Yun Shu’s mischievous hand and yanked his head away with his hair. His face was flushed—it was hard to tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.

“You! What are you doing?!”

With his hair held, Yun Shu had a lingering smile on his lips, though his tone was incredibly aggrieved: “Didn’t you say it yourself, Brother…?”

Su Wen was annoyed, but seeing that expression, he let go of the hair and sat to the side, deciding to listen to his excuse. “What did I say?”

Yun Shu sat down in front of him, trying to crawl back into his arms after just two words, but Su Wen pinned him down with a hand. “Explain yourself clearly first.”

So, Yun Shu sat face-to-face with him, shedding the affected act and becoming righteously indignant:

“You said it yourself, just a few days ago. You said there wasn’t enough time, so you didn’t do it with me, and you said you’d give me a ‘perfect experience’.”

After saying this, he looked aggrieved again, hanging his head and looking up at him. “Didn’t you say that?”

The retort Su Wen was about to fire back got stuck in his throat. He remembered—it was his stalling tactic from before. But he remained stubborn: “You said I’d give you a ‘perfect experience.’ So what’s with you pinning me down?”

To be honest, Su Wen had never done it. He had only tried “manual transmission”—by himself, and with Yun Shu. He assumed he might have done it with friends in the past. He knew the gay community had “tops” and “bottoms”—the one who pins is a ‘1’ (Top), and the pinned is a ‘0’ (Bottom).

In his remaining memories, he had never considered dating a man, so naturally, he hadn’t thought about how to have sex with one. He had no issue with being gay—dating a man or a woman was the same—but whether it was a man or a woman, he was definitely the one on top.

The problem was, he had no experience, no practice, and hadn’t even studied it. What “good person” would specifically search for that to learn? He was just talking big; he didn’t expect this guy to take it seriously.

Yun Shu was still kneeling before him. His head wasn’t hanging anymore, and the unshed tears in his eyes had vanished, replaced by an irrepressible spark of anticipation.

Su Wen’s lip twitched. He absolutely could not compromise, at least not today. He could already see the top trending headline: #FailedActorSuWenGoesToSnowMountainForDocuOnlyToDieOfExhaustionInBed#.

He went through a circle of excuses in his head and finally chose the most understandable one.

“I… still have to learn a bit,” he patted Yun Shu’s hair, speaking airily. “Once I’ve learned, I’ll give you that ‘perfect experience,’ okay?”

“You don’t want to get hurt, do you, Yun Shu…?”

“Hmm?”

“I can do it.”

Su Wen froze for two seconds, a few confused sounds escaping his mouth. “Uh, what?”

He looked up to see Yun Shu raising an eyebrow, the desire in his eyes laid bare.

“I can,” he moved forward on his knees, leaning into Su Wen’s ear, repeating himself: “I really can, Brother. I know how gay people do it… how… to… do it…?”

He looked down suggestively and continued, “I know. It’s the blending of bodies, putting me… inside of you.”

Following his gaze, Su Wen fell silent. This was the second time he wanted to say “hi” to this dog-like guy and then immediately run away. Great. Dying of exhaustion was one thing; losing his “back door” was a much bigger issue.

While he remained silent, Yun Shu took it as consent. His hands became restless; one lightly touched Su Wen’s cheek while the other moved gently, slowly—as if trying not to be noticed—sneaking in through a lifted corner of his shirt.

The thin calluses on the palm scraped lightly against smooth skin. It was a sensation Su Wen had never felt before, making his whole body tremble. Yun Shu loved his reaction. Just like his first time during adolescence, he fantasized about the special reactions Su Wen would have because of him. The flush, the trembling, or…

“Mm…” A low moan escaped his throat. Not just Yun Shu, but Su Wen himself froze in place.

ROAR—

The laptop, precariously balanced on the edge of the bed, emitted a low growl.

Su Wen jolted as if struck by lightning, snapping back to clarity. His mind was even sharper than before. He calmly removed Yun Shu’s hand from his shirt, acting as if nothing had happened, and dove forward to save the laptop from falling.

On the screen were three snow leopards. The footage was black and white, but the three were clearly distinguishable. The one with the sagging belly, looking swollen and constantly backing away but refusing to drop the sheep in its mouth, was the female. And the one standing opposite, eyeing the sheep greedily, was a male prepared to steal the food.

It should have been a predictable fight over food, but a surprise came quickly. Before the first male could move in, another male leopard charged out of the darkness, slamming the thief to the ground. That low growl had come from this leopard.

Yun Shu, suppressing the heat in his body, sat beside him, looking at the screen with frustration written all over his face. Su Wen, however, was ecstatic. He hit the pause button, freezing the image as the two male leopards faced off. At this angle, the infrared camera clearly captured the male that had charged out from the night.

And the tip of its right ear, which was missing a small notch.

“It’s him!” Su Wen pointed at the screen, his joy nearly uncontrollable. He remembered now—that sheep was the one they had given the female, and his leopard had been injured on that same day. It was protecting the sheep they gave the female from being stolen!

He felt an inexplicable sense of pride, like seeing his own child become a hero. He shoved the screen toward Yun Shu: “This is the snow leopard I told you about, the one that comes every night! See? Isn’t he amazing?”

Yun Shu nodded, then glanced at him secretly, asking cautiously: “Do you like him?”

“Of course,” Su Wen didn’t hesitate. “I wait for him to come find me every day.”

Yun Shu seemed as if he’d been hit by a sedative; he suddenly quieted down. “Then, um…” He thought for a moment and changed his phrasing. “What name did you give him?”

Su Wen was dragging the progress bar back and forth, unable to bear seeing his leopard get hit by others, dragging it back to its heroic moment. Hearing Yun Shu’s question, he answered casually without thinking:

“He takes my surname. He’s called Su Xiaobao (Su Little Treasure).”

Yun Shu’s heart thudded. He leaned into Su Wen from behind, burying his head in the crook of his shoulder, and said in a very low but clear voice:

“Say it again.”

Su Wen burst out laughing. He rubbed the fluffy hair behind him and joked, “What? You want to be called ‘Su Xiaobao’ too?”

Yun Shu didn’t answer, just buried his head deeper.

…

When it came time to sleep that night, Su Wen purposely opened the window crack a bit wider. He had a premonition that Su Xiaobao would definitely come today.

But the wind and snow tonight were exceptionally fierce. The cold wind howled, forcing the window open and making the curtains fly everywhere—nearly hitting the ceiling. It was pitch black inside and out. The indoor temperature, which had finally been raised by the heater, dropped to the freezing point instantly.

Su Wen wrapped himself in three thick layers of quilts, his exposed face turning bright red from the cold. Yun Shu held him tightly, head buried in his neck. After a long time, he said pitifully, “Brother, I’m so cold.”

Su Wen was cold too, but he stayed stubborn. “I told you to go back to your own room to sleep.”

Yun Shu tightened his grip, voice muffled. “You promised to sleep with me.”

Fine, fine. This stubborn kid.

Su Wen conceded and was about to get up to close the window, but as soon as the cold made him shiver, he was pressed back down. Before he could react, the quilt beside him was empty. He looked up to see Yun Shu dashing to the window, quickly closing it and pulling the curtains. The howling wind was shut out, and the room fell silent again.

As the temperature rose, Su Wen turned around to see Yun Shu sitting cross-legged about ten feet away from him.

“What are you doing sitting over there?”

Yun Shu replied dejectedly, “My body is too cold.”

“?” Su Wen was stunned for two seconds. “Then why don’t you get under the covers?”

“It’s fine. You sleep first.”

Su Wen didn’t understand this “performance art.” “Get in here quickly. What if you catch a cold?”

“I won’t catch a cold.”

The reality check only took one night. The next morning, his throat felt like it had been slashed by a knife, and his whole head felt heavy and groggy. Only then did Yun Shu truly realize that he was currently no different from a human.

Perhaps, when it comes to being sick, there really is no difference between a human and a snow leopard. The body hurts just the same, feels miserable just the same, and craves the touch of a cool finger on the face to check the temperature.

Or perhaps, he simply wished to be held.

He slowly opened his eyes. Su Wen was lying on his side, watching him. Seeing him wake up, Su Wen asked softly:

“Are you okay?”

In a hoarse voice, Yun Shu replied, “Will I… cough… will I be contagious?”

Su Wen, wearing a face mask, leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead, comforting him:

“No. I’ve got a mask on.”