Su Jingming’s head was in a fog; he hadn't processed a single word Song Yifei said.
Looking up at Wen Yan, who was slightly taller than him, Su Jingming stood there like a child who had done something wrong, completely at a loss. The laughter from the surrounding crowd seemed to drift further and further away as he fell into a vicious cycle, unable to find an exit.
Even when he should have been incoherent, he remained strangely lucid.
Wen Miao walked over to Song Yifei’s side and poked his shoulder. "Should I call a car for you?"
Wen Yan glanced over at them before pulling his gaze back. "Going back?"
This time, Su Jingming nodded obediently. "Okay." Then he immediately added, "You take me back."
Hearing this, Wen Yan’s eyes crinkled with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Back where?"
Su Jingming thought about it seriously, then shook his head. "I don't know."
Wen Yan took a deep breath of the cool night air, letting it fill his chest. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth as a pang of heartache spread through him.
Su Jingming hooked his finger around the hem of Wen Yan’s shirt, his expression earnest. "To your house?"
Wen Miao never expected that Su Jingming would actually be brought home by Wen Yan.
Seeing Su Jingming lying on her brother’s bed, Wen Miao stood by the door with a look of disbelief. "It’s understandable that you don't know where he lives, but isn't it a bit much to just bring him straight back here?"
In Wen Miao’s world, things were definitely moving too fast.
Wen Yan walked over from the bathroom with a damp towel, giving Wen Miao a lazy glance.
Wen Miao raised her voice. "I’m still in this house, you know!"
Without a second thought, Wen Yan lightly tapped Wen Miao on the forehead. "So young, yet such a dirty mind! Go wash up and get to bed. Don't come wandering around if you don't have to!"
With that, Wen Yan decisively shut the door.
Inside the room, only the lamp on the nightstand was lit. Su Jingming was buried in the bed, his brow furrowed as he slept fitfully. Wen Yan gave Su Jingming’s face and hands a simple wipe-down and took off his jacket for him.
He was dressed entirely in black today, even his undershirt.
"Such a fair-skinned boy, yet he dresses so gloomily every day." Wen Yan knelt on one knee by the bed, carefully observing Su Jingming’s face for a long while.
He reached out and playfully fiddled with the hair on Su Jingming’s forehead.
Reflexively, Su Jingming raised a hand and swatted Wen Yan’s hand away.
It was as if Wen Yan had found a new toy. He reached out to fiddle with it again.
Su Jingming swatted it away again.
Fiddle. Swat.
The two of them went back and forth several times. Wen Yan couldn't help but chuckle. "This is actually quite fun."
After settling Su Jingming in, Wen Yan brought a quilt out from the room and tossed it onto the sofa. Only then did he open his phone to watch the short video Wen Miao had been sending him.
It was the video of Su Jingming standing on the chair, announcing he was going to transform.
Wen Yan watched it several times, then long-pressed to save it.
He planned to show it to Su Jingming tomorrow!
When Su Jingming woke up and saw a ceiling that wasn't his own, his first reaction was: *Was I fucking kidnapped?*
He cleared his head a bit. *What do I have that's worth kidnapping?*
He checked the clothes he was wearing. *Not for my body.*
His phone was sitting right there next to him. *Not for my money.*
Hearing movement in the room, Wen Yan pushed the door open and saw Su Jingming sitting on the bed with a dazed expression.
Their eyes met. Wen Yan froze for a moment before resuming his usual expression.
Su Jingming looked shocked. "Why are you here?"
"This is my house." Wen Yan stood by the door, his hand resting lightly on the frame. "Yesterday, you and Song Yifei got drunk. You were making a scene, insisting on coming home with me."
"???"
"If you don't believe me, ask Song Yifei. You were the one clutching my clothes, crying and saying, 'Don't go, don't go.'"
Wen Yan spoke with such conviction that Su Jingming began to deeply doubt himself. He knew he couldn't handle his liquor, but he hadn't realized he was such a pathetic drunk.
"I... I really held onto you and said that?" Su Jingming asked, his face flushing unnaturally.
Wen Yan nodded. "To be precise, you were hugging me."
"!!!"
Su Jingming scrambled out of bed. Before he could speak, Wen Yan said nonchalantly, "You were much better than Song Yifei. Yesterday, he was a blubbering mess, begging you to transform."
"..."
"Luckily, you didn't agree. Otherwise, I was really afraid you'd start taking off your clothes or something, and I wouldn't be able to stop you."
"...That's good, then."
"After all, you said your identity couldn't be exposed, or bad guys would target you."
Su Jingming slowly lowered his eyelids. Was it too late to move to another planet?
Wen Yan had prepared breakfast early and had been waiting for Su Jingming to wake up. Su Jingming sat down in a daze, eating mechanically. Wen Yan sat opposite him, stifling his laughter.
Gradually, Su Jingming snapped out of it. He stared at Wen Yan’s head; the bandages were already gone. "You could have just left me alone yesterday. You're still supposed to be hospitalized."
Wen Yan hummed in response and tossed him a carton of milk from the fridge. "Wen Miao called me. I couldn't just ignore it."
Su Jingming gripped the cold milk. Since waking up, he had already cursed himself a thousand times. He made a new rule for himself in his heart: *If I drink outside again, then Ultraman truly doesn't exist in this world.*
For a *chuunibyou* youth like Su Jingming, this was the most vicious curse imaginable.
"Besides, I’m about to be discharged anyway. Staying in the hospital is boring." Wen Yan arched an eyebrow at him, his tone full of teasing.
Su Jingming opened the milk and downed it in one go. He grabbed his jacket from the side and headed for the entryway. Based on past experience and his own self-confidence, escaping an awkward scene as quickly as possible was the most effective strategy.
"Then I won't bother you any longer. I'm leaving." He spoke rapidly, his retreat just as swift.
Wen Yan let out a low chuckle. Before Su Jingming could reach the entryway, Wen Yan blocked his path.
Su Jingming looked up in surprise. Wen Yan was wearing smoke-gray loungewear, his hair a bit messy. His eyes were full of a lazy charm as he braced his hand against the wall, looking down at Su Jingming.
The distance between them was barely dozens of centimeters. They could hear each other's breathing clearly.
Wen Yan smiled. "Do you remember the last time you got drunk during the intensive training? What was the last thing you said?"
The last time? That was not long ago.
Su Jingming had felt so guilty about that time; he had dragged Wen Yan out to blow in the cold wind, which resulted in Wen Yan falling ill.
He scrunched his nose, having no memory of it at all. He swallowed hard. "I... what did I say?"
"You said," Wen Yan leaned down, "that there's someone you really like."
Su Jingming didn't know his sprinting skills had such explosive power.
Pushing Wen Yan aside and opening the door—the entire sequence was as smooth as silk, as if he had rehearsed it in his head a thousand times.
He didn't forget to glance back at Wen Yan. Wen Yan stood where he was; his shirt was a bit wrinkled at the chest because of Su Jingming, but there was no anger on his face—only a look of great amusement in his eyes.
After running down the stairs, Su Jingming panted slightly.
It wasn't that he didn't believe Wen Yan. It was precisely because he believed Wen Yan too much that he felt the urge to run.
He rarely got drunk because he knew his limits, and whenever he did, there was never anyone else around. He truly didn't know what kind of things he might say.
He had already been drunk twice in front of Wen Yan.
They had only known each other for a month, yet he was already this defenseless.
***
