Ephraim sat on the sink counter in the bathroom, gaze fixed stubbornly on the fabric of his trousers. His fingers fidgeted restlessly, tugging and scratching at the material until it seemed almost worn thin.
Rachel was of no help— the moment he had fallen into Shen Yizhou's arms, she had promptly gone offline. Ephraim couldn't help but think that woman placed far too much faith in his so-called love life. At least wait a while before running off, no? They hadn't even gotten past lunch yet, let alone the… predicament he had so foolishly agreed to. Then again, the him of thirty minutes ago had also been brimming with courage, only for it to dissipate like mist the instant reality came pressing in.
The sound of running water filled the room, soft and steady, before being joined by the quiet tread of approaching footsteps. A hand rose to his face, the rough warmth of a thumb tracing lightly against his cheek. Shen Yizhou lowered his head until their eyes met.
"Don't be nervous, Little Yu," his voice was low, soothing. "I promise, I won't touch you inappropriately."
Ephraim's gaze wavered. For a fleeting moment he felt something strange stir within him, only to quickly avert his eyes. His reply came soft, almost a whisper.
"A bit… is fine."
His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when a firm hand closed around his waist. A single finger slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, grazing across his skin before the rest followed, steady and unhurried. Shen Yizhou leaned forward, their foreheads pressing together, his voice hushed and teasing against Ephraim's lips.
"Then… please explain what boundaries lie in this 'little.'"
Ephraim swallowed, his throat dry. After a moment's hesitation, he leaned in, brushed a fleeting kiss against Shen Yizhou's lips, their noses brushing as he drew back slightly. Breath tickling, he whispered—
"Touches… caresses… kisses…"
Shen Yizhou's lips curved faintly as his hand slid up along Ling Xiaoyu's slender torso, movements cautious and reverent, as though he were handling a precious treasure. The shirt lifted with his touch, and before long it slipped soundlessly to the floor.
Ephraim's fingers found the zipper of Shen Yizhou's jersey, tugging it down before burying his face against the man's chest. His breaths came a little heavy, warmth seeping into the fabric, and soon his hand had wandered upward, curling around the back of Shen Yizhou's neck. He smiled, eyes glimmering.
"Okay? I want this to be very cheesy. Very romantic. Not indecent at all."
Shen Yizhou's pulse leapt. He drew in a shuddering breath, forcing restraint back into his veins, before pressing a kiss to the youth's cheek, then his jaw. His nose brushed against the soft curve of that pale neck, his breath stirring a faint ticklishness there.
"In simpler words… everything but the final step," he murmured, voice low. "Quite daring."
Ephraim pursed his lips in mock solemnity before breaking into a grin.
"The way we're talking, it sounds like we're about to do something scandalous. It's just a bath, and a little extra. I am very innocent, pure, and delicate at heart and mind, you know."
Shen Yizhou's quiet hum melted into a kiss at his throat, lips lingering against the sensitive skin.
"Then allow me," he whispered, "to make full use of that 'little extra,' my innocent Little Yu."
That single "my" struck like an arrow straight into Ephraim's chest. His fingers brushed over the heat blooming across his cheek, and a soft laugh escaped him.
"Look at you… so you can tease. I didn't expect that from you."
"I learned," Shen Yizhou said gently. "I looked up the ins and outs of building something that lasts."
Ephraim's smile curved with amusement, eyes bright.
"Always so diligent."
Clothes discarded quietly one after another onto the floor before Shen Yizhou picked the youth up and walked over to the bathtub.
By the time they emerged, the bathroom was shrouded in steam. The mirrors were clouded over, the air heavy and warm, as if even the room itself bore witness to the time they lingered there.
Wrapped snugly in a robe, cheeks flushed and carrying the glow of contentment, Ephraim basked in Shen Yizhou's pampering. The man patiently dried his hair, pressing kisses onto his face between each motion, as though he simply couldn't keep his hands—or lips—away.
Ephraim chuckled, his legs swinging lightly off the bed.
"Might Zhou-ge have any arrangements for the rest of the day?"
Shen Yizhou set the hair dryer aside, his long fingers combing through the newly dried locks, smoothing them with care. He preferred these soft, natural waves infinitely more than the fine wigs the young man usually wore.
"No. I'm free."
"Heh. Then, what do you plan to do with the rest of it?"
Leaning down, Shen Yizhou pressed a lingering kiss onto the crown of that fluffy head, breathing in its warmth before answering in a low, steady voice.
"Whatever Little Yu wishes."
"Oh, then…"
Ephraim's thoughts tumbled into the list of date ideas he had once carried over from another world. So many things he had dreamed of but never gotten the chance to try—now all suddenly possible, leaving him momentarily overwhelmed.
After a long pause, he brightened.
"A home date. We can cuddle in your bed, binge a series, snack a little. And when we're bored, we can just talk. I want to hear all about Zhou-ge's life. Childhood, family—everything."
"There's nothing especially worth mentioning."
"Oh, hush. It's my boyfriend's life. Every detail is worth something to me."
Shen Yizhou's lips curved as he bent closer, nose brushing against the side of Ephraim's neck. His weight gently urged the youth back until Ephraim's body rested against the mattress, silky hair fanning loosely around him. His voice softened into the warm air.
"If I'm to bare my past to you, then it's only fair you share all of Little Yu's memories as well."
Ephraim's arms circled his shoulders, a quiet laugh slipping out when the nuzzling tickled.
"My past, huh…"
The smile that followed lingered only a moment.
There was nothing he could truly tell this man.
Anything of his life in this world that Shen Yizhou might wish to know—he already knew.
Ephraim's true past lay in a world apart from this one.
He could not speak of it. And he had no desire to claim the original Ling Xiaoyu's memories as his own.
But he was not worried. If there was one thing he had come to understand about this man, it was that Shen Yizhou listened to him—without question, without condition. Ephraim had never sought to take advantage of that.
Yet now, he had no choice but to lean on it.
"Mine is… far duller than Zhou-ge's could ever be. So dull, in fact, that I always go out of my way to avoid mentioning it." His tone was light, almost teasing, but his eyes held a depth too difficult to read. "After all, for someone like me, how could I tolerate a past that has nothing to do with the person I wish to be? It's better left buried."
Shen Yizhou's chest constricted without warning, a sharp pang tearing through his heart. It was suffocating, as though unseen hands had reached between his ribs and squeezed. The ache was sudden, unexplainable—yet no matter how he grasped for the cause, he found nothing. Something was there, he was sure of it. A shadow of memory, some untold history hovering just beyond reach. But the fog of his mind remained too thick, too impenetrable.
When he finally lowered his gaze again, his eyes lingered on the youth's features: the luminous pupils that seemed to hide countless secrets, the delicate line of his nose, the curve of his lips, the faint rise and fall of his throat.
'Lovely…' Shen Yizhou thought. 'So lovely… What in this world could have looked into eyes so full of warmth… and still left you with such unease?'
With a quiet sigh, he pressed a kiss to the young man's forehead, his voice low and steady.
"Then, in return for me sharing my past, I wish to hear about your dreams for the future. Tell me what you hope to become, what you wish to achieve."
Ephraim blinked in mild surprise before breaking into a bright grin. Looping his legs around the man, he hummed in satisfaction.
"Deal."
The rest of their day unfolded in peaceful, almost saccharine bliss.
Conversely, Wang Jianyuan's day unraveled into chaos. He discovered that Xu Jinyao had apparently run away from home. Fury burned in his chest as he searched high and low, yet every effort was inexplicably obstructed.
A man of his standing, a man of his influence—how could his will be so easily hindered?
The more he thought, the clearer it seemed. This must be Shen Yizhou's doing. Yet no matter how he tried to reach him, every attempt fell to silence.
Anger festered, and helplessness brewed alongside it. By nightfall, he had shut himself away in his room, the furniture suffering under the weight of his rage. Only when his fury ebbed did he slump onto the bed, dazed, staring blankly at nothing.
Time slipped by unnoticed. It might already have been dawn when a knock broke the silence.
A cautious voice followed, hesitant yet sincere:
"Gege… it's me. Jiannan. Can we talk?"