Chapter 66: 求婚

Click—

The sound of the lock clicking into place triggered an instinctive sense of danger in Shi Qi, and a wave of heat radiated from the mark on the back of his neck.

Before he could react, the world spun around him.

Shi Qi was pressed onto the bed, a sweet scent washing over him, trapping him in that small, confined space.

Shang Sui’s pupils were lighter than his own, shimmering under the light like the scales of a colorful snake.

“Lin Yan and the others were upstairs just now.”

Shi Qi’s body stiffened.

“It is fine. They did not see much.”

As Shang Sui spoke, he reached out to stroke Shi Qi’s cheek slowly.

Thinking that they had indeed only kissed on the face, Shi Qi gave a low hum of agreement. Seeing him relax, Shang Sui used his fingertips to rub Shi Qi’s small earlobes.

The first time he had slept with Shang Sui was during his Heat Phase; Shi Qi had been exceptionally fond of being tangled up with him, and back then, he had assumed it was merely the influence of instinct.

But even after the Heat Phase ended, he remained addicted to physical contact. Only then did Shi Qi realize that his entire body had become extraordinarily sensitive.

Cool fingertips grazed his neck, intentionally or otherwise, and just like before, Shi Qi’s breathing began to grow ragged against his will.

“The soundproofing in this house is not good.”

Shi Qi, currently enjoying the touch, lifted his eyes in a daze.

Shang Sui hinted pointedly: “If the movement is too loud, we might be heard.”

Either do it without a care, or do not do it at all.

Shi Qi thought it over; if they really made a scene, Lin Yan would probably record it for him.

Shi Qi settled for the next best thing:

“Just a kiss?”

“Open your mouth, baby.”

He and Shang Sui spoke almost simultaneously.

Shi Qi parted his lips in cooperation, revealing a sliver of vivid red tongue, his dark gray eyes damp and shimmering like the surface of a rippling lake.

Shang Sui stared at him intently.

After waiting for a long time without any action, Shi Qi grew impatient and was about to ask if he was going to kiss him or not.

His wrists were suddenly seized. Shang Sui tightened his grip, pulled Shi Qi’s hands above his head, and pinned them firmly against the pillow.

“What are you doing…!”

Before he could understand why the other had suddenly turned rough, the Alpha lowered his head and kissed him fiercely.

Between kisses, Shang Sui reached out to knead his body.

Shi Qi’s back rubbed against the bed involuntarily; the sensation was so intense that he couldn’t help but want to escape.

Shang Sui chased after him, kissing him again, gripping his slender waist before moving down to touch even more intimate territory.

Gradually adjusting, Shi Qi hooked his legs around Shang Sui’s waist, wrapping around him like a vine, desperate to have the Alpha pressed completely against him, leaving no space between them.

Feeling Shang Sui lightly lick his lips as if to pull away, Shi Qi murmured a plea in his daze: “More… kiss me harder.”

The other paused for a moment, then granted his wish.

Time passed, their Pheromone levels tangling together. Shi Qi grew hotter and hotter, a thin, glistening layer of sweat breaking out on his skin.

By the time the kissing ended, both were somewhat lost in the haze of desire.

Shang Sui recovered first, his voice thick as he asked: “Shall we go take a shower?”

Shi Qi nodded but did not move.

He curled up lazily on the bed, his fair calves resting on the messy duvet, reminiscent of a cat flicking its tail back and forth.

It was clear he was the type who preferred being waited on.

Shang Sui smiled, hooked his arms under Shi Qi’s legs, and carried him toward the bathroom.

Shi Qi suddenly called out to him: “Shang Sui.”

“Hm?”

“You have to keep liking me this much,” Shi Qi demanded on his own terms. “You can like me more, but never less.”

The Alpha’s alluring eyes curved under the light: “Are you acting spoiled with me?”

Shi Qi leaned against his shoulder, noncommittal.

I will propose tomorrow.

They both thought.

-

The next morning, the two of them reached a tacit agreement to stay at Yishan.

Shi Qi had originally wanted to propose at the place where they first met, and he agreed immediately after Shang Sui mentioned, intentionally or not, that there were too many people at the villa and it was inconvenient.

He went home to change, specifically choosing cargo pants with large pockets to store the diary he had prepared.

When he went out, Shi Qi saw a stranger standing by Shang Sui’s car, seemingly trying to strike up a conversation.

Before Shang Sui could refuse, Shi Qi said abruptly: “What are you doing?”

The man was startled and turned his head instantly.

Shi Qi’s platinum-blonde hair was rimmed with a hazy halo in the winter sun, making it impossible to look away.

“I…”

Guessing that Shi Qi might have misunderstood, the man quickly explained: “I saw that your friend has great features and wanted to ask if he has any interest in being a model or a blogger.”

To prove he wasn’t lying, the man pulled out his phone and showed Shi Qi his account.

“Oh,” Shi Qi’s expression softened upon hearing it was just for work. “He is not interested.”

He got straight into the car after speaking, not noticing that the man’s gaze remained glued to him.

Because he was in a good mood, Shang Sui’s tone rose slightly: “Is Shi Qi jealous?”

Shi Qi cast him a sidelong glance.

His sparkling long earrings swayed, and his wolf-cut hair was scattered in fine strands across the back of his neck. Shang Sui’s knit sweater had a very low neckline, revealing the half-melted butterfly tattoo on his collarbone in its entirety.

Shi Qi’s gaze landed on the choker around his neck, and feeling an itch in his heart, he simply hooked his index finger into the thin leather collar and pulled him toward himself:

“Why are you…” dressed so flashily today.

Although Shang Sui could walk a runway every day, today was particularly exaggerated.

Before Shi Qi could finish, someone knocked on the passenger window from outside.

Shi Qi rolled down the window, and the man smiled at him, holding up his phone: “I think your features are also excellent!”

“Are you interested in this line of work?” His gaze swept over Shi Qi’s face inch by inch; it looked less like a work inquiry and more like he was eyeing prey.

He said with a double meaning: “Add me as a friend! Even if you are not interested now, what if you change your mind later?”

Shang Sui answered for him first: “No. Goodbye.”

“Wait…!”

Before the other could say anything else, Shang Sui closed the window for Shi Qi.

Sensing that the person beside him was staring at him, Shang Sui said naturally: “You might not have noticed, but the way he looked at you was very strange.”

“Oh, alright then.”

After the car had driven some distance, Shi Qi curled his lips, adding in a light tone: “You can just say it if you are jealous.”

He looked down at his phone after speaking.

He had sent a message in the group chat last night, reminding everyone to get to the little villa early and wait. Even though Lin Yan had shouted that since the holiday started he had not gotten up once before noon, he still caught the early bus up the mountain a little after eight, even more impatient than Shi Er.

Qin Shuhe sent a photo of the Endless Summer flower bed, indicating that he had already found a spot: [The minions are in position, Your Majesty, please rest assured.]

A moment later, Qin Shuhe added: [Apologies, the address did not keep up with the version, Qi-shen, please rest assured.]

After sending the message, Qin Shuhe looked across the way involuntarily.

Two Alphas had arrived across from them just a moment ago.

This entire area was private property, and Shi Qi had given the garden key to Lin Yan in advance so they could enter smoothly. Qin Shuhe, assuming they were friendly strangers, asked with great familiarity: “Handsome, are you here for the proposal too?”

Jiang Yan did not think much of it: “Yeah, yeah, are you guys too?”

He muttered: “So there are others. Why didn’t Shang Sui mention it beforehand?”

Jiang Yan and Qin Shuhe talked past each other for a long while before Lin Yan suddenly realized: “Shang Sui is also proposing today?”

Shi Qi had mentioned to him that Shang Sui’s best friends were a couple, both Alphas.

Shen Qianyu caught the keyword: “Also?”

Everyone quickly understood what was going on and said in unison, with tacit understanding:

“Don’t tell Shi Qi!”

“Don’t tell Shang Sui.”

“So they both planned to propose on the same day,” Qin Shuhe remarked. “Truly, birds of a feather flock together. Such chemistry, too much chemistry.”

Jiang Yan looked at Chu Tao, noticing her carrying a massive camera lens, and asked with a shocked expression: “Sister, how do you have professional equipment?”

Chu Tao did not find it strange to be called sister by a male Alpha, and replied with a grin: “I used to be a fansite photographer for Shi Qi. I originally thought I would follow him as he stormed the entertainment industry, so I bought several telephoto lenses back then. I just brought them along this time.”

“Understandable. If he had debuted, Shi Qi would have roasted anyone who dared to dream of riding on his head,” Qin Shuhe said jokingly, then couldn’t help but ask, “Does anyone in this world exist who hasn’t been roasted by him?”

“No, he doesn’t even spare Uncle Xiao’an,” Lin Yan said, then thought of something. “Wait, it seems he has never roasted Shang Sui.”

“So Qi-shen practices the way of double standards,” Qin Shuhe shifted the topic. “But my brother is gentle in front of Shi Qi, so it is not entirely incomprehensible.”

Jiang Yan had been listening with great interest, but upon hearing this, he wore a look of disbelief: “Gentle?? Shang Sui? Shouldn’t his labels be Top-A, artist, and insane?”

“As of now, Shang Sui behaves very well in front of Shi Qi,” Shen Qianyu offered the highest level of praise. “Most of the time, he looks like a normal person.”

Arriving at the middle station of Line 2, Shi Qi got off the train with Shang Sui.

Larkspurs and hollyhocks bloomed on both sides of the road. He saw two people standing in the colorful flower beds from afar, their posture intimate as they seemed to be fiddling with a camera.

Shi Qi thought it was Lin Yan and the others, wondering why they had run over here.

As if sensing his gaze, one of them looked over.

Shi Qi froze for a moment: “Senior?”

“Shi Qi?” Seeing someone he knew, Duan Jiayan’s face showed surprise, his amber eyes exceptionally clear under the sun. “You are here too.”

The Alpha beside Duan Jiayan first glanced at his change in expression before looking over.

Noticing the other’s gaze landing on Shang Sui, Shi Qi guessed: “You know each other?”

Shang Sui nodded: “His mother has bought my paintings.”

There were other connections as well, but they were all family-related.

“How is Mrs. Jiang doing lately?”

Lu Xingci said politely: “She is very well, thank you for asking.”

Duan Jiayan suddenly let out a laugh.

Lu Xingci looked at him.

Duan Jiayan drawled: “Nothing, it is just rare to see you using official diplomatic language. It is quite funny.”

With his interjection, the atmosphere eased significantly.

Duan Jiayan looked at Shi Qi: “By the way, you added me as a friend before, I thought you wanted to play games with me.”

They were in the same club, and Shi Qi was a year below him. During a photography club event, they happened to be in the same group, and everyone went to an internet cafe afterward.

That night, he and Shi Qi carried the dead weight Chen Yue through the ranks; despite it being their first time coordinating, they had great chemistry, and he had a very good impression of this junior.

Shi Qi looked cold and indifferent, but he had taken the initiative to ask for his contact information afterward. He remembered that Shi Qi had hesitated for a moment before adding Chen Yue as well.

Shang Sui realized something and looked at the silent Shi Qi.

Seemingly not knowing how to answer, Shi Qi’s eyelashes trembled. Confirming his suspicion, Shang Sui said coldly: “Wow, Xiao Qi.”

Lu Xingci had not thought anything was wrong, but raised an eyebrow slightly upon hearing this.

The only person present who hadn’t noticed the anomaly continued: “Later, I saw you were online twice and pulled you into a game, but you never came.”

Duan Jiayan pondered that he had been slaughtering everyone that night, and could only think of one explanation: “Did you mix me up with Chen Yue? He is truly terrible. I am the mid-laner; he is the support who kept dragging you down.”

Shi Qi really couldn’t say the real reason, so he improvised: “No, I just don’t like playing with people who are too good at games.”

Duan Jiayan: “?”

Shi Qi: “I like to carry the burden forward.”

Shang Sui smiled: “Maybe it is because you saw the wedding photo after adding him.”

Shi Qi: “…”

Shi Qi felt that Shang Sui was like a ghost.

In his desperation, he grabbed Shang Sui: “Goodbye, Senior! We are leaving first, have fun.”

After they left, Duan Jiayan said blankly: “What did they mean? Are married people not worthy of joining esports?”

Lu Xingci was noncommittal, mimicking Shi Qi’s tone as he called him: “Senior.”

“?”

“You are really popular.”

Duan Jiayan replied in kind: “Thanks, you too.”

He cast the small interlude aside and signaled for Lu Xingci to look at the camera in his hand. Clusters of larkspurs bloomed on the screen, and the photographer had captured a momentary shift in light and shadow; the already magnificent colors were like colorful fireworks:

“Look at the flowers I took, are they not impressive?”

After waiting a long time without receiving a compliment, Duan Jiayan was somewhat dissatisfied.

What is the meaning of this? Why is Lu Xingci so unresponsive today?

He turned his head, only to find the other had been looking at him the whole time.

“I told you to look at the flowers, not me—”

When their eyes met, Lu Xingci suddenly leaned in and kissed his cheek like a stamp.

Duan Jiayan was quiet for a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh: “What are you doing?”

Shi Qi dragged Shang Sui along the way. The latter walked with him for a distance, and once he was sure the shadows of the other two were no longer visible, he stopped without warning.

He gripped Shi Qi’s wrist and gave it a light squeeze.

Shi Qi knew he was in the wrong and took the initiative to explain: “It was a year ago.”

Shang Sui gave a noncommittal response.

“Because I had forgotten you, but I was subconsciously attracted to types that were slightly similar to you, which is why I was curious about the Senior.”

Once he knew the other had a partner, Shi Qi had completely given up on the idea, and the matter had been pushed to the back of his mind.

If he hadn’t met the person himself today, he wouldn’t even have remembered it.

“Which type?”

Lin Yan’s words flashed through his mind, and Shi Qi blurted out: “The type that looks like a scumbag.”

After waiting a long time without a response, Shi Qi was just thinking if it was bad to call him a scumbag—

“I thought it was the type that wasn’t good at games.”

Seeing him explain so earnestly, the slight displeasure in Shang Sui’s heart vanished: “Doesn’t our baby dislike playing with people who are good at games? Then you should like me very much, right?”

He spoke as if reciting a tongue twister. Shi Qi barely understood his meaning, and just as he was about to explain further, he noticed a wicked glint in Shang Sui’s eyes.

Shi Qi realized in an instant that the other was teasing him and retorted without mercy: “I don’t like it. You being too bad at games won’t work either.”

“It is fine,” Shang Sui slid his hand downward, hooking it suggestively. “It is enough that I am good at other things.”

A tingling itch spread across his sensitive palm. Realizing that he was actually making lewd remarks, Shi Qi pulled his hand back as if electrocuted.

Shang Sui was not ashamed, but smiled at him instead.

Seeing the shadows of Shi Qi and Shang Sui from afar, Qin Shuhe, who had been waiting until he was bored, scrambled up: “Finally! Shi Qi, please don’t let me down, be the first one to act!”

Jiang Yan was not to be outdone: “Go, Brother Shang Sui! How can you let someone else beat you to the proposal!”

At high noon, the rolling sea of Endless Summer flowers was as brilliant as a rainbow after the rain.

Thinking that Lin Yan and the others were crouching in some corner, Shi Qi reached out to touch his pocket, feeling the heavy weight of the diary, and cheered himself on in his heart.

He was just about to speak when Shang Sui asked first, ‘Do you still remember the last time you came to Qi Jiang?’

Shi Qi’s attention was entirely on what he was about to do, so he only nodded.

“During the Flower Day Festival, we exchanged bracelets, but it withered very quickly,” Shang Sui said, just as he had back then, as he saw Shi Qi looking at him. “Xiao Qi, reach out your hand.”

Shi Qi thought Shang Sui was going to give him a new Lily of the Valley Bracelet, so he immediately reached out in cooperation.

He liked the symbolism of the Flower Day Festival, and besides, the bracelets Shang Sui wove were beautiful.

Shang Sui moved quickly; Shi Qi didn’t even have time to see what was in his hand. Unlike the soft, flexible touch of flower stems he had expected, cold, hard gemstones brushed against his skin.

The moment Shang Sui let go, a dazzling fire caught his eyes.

“This bracelet is not a real flower, but it will never wither.”

The Lily of the Valley Bracelet bloomed on Shi Qi’s wrist. The invisibly set diamond petals and leaves shimmered with brilliant light, the flower centers accented with yellow diamonds. The complex setting allowed the dangling flower centers to tremble naturally with the wearer’s movements, and the flower stems woven from fine gold wire had been given a matte, brushed finish, perfectly complementing the sparkling petals and leaves.

The entire bracelet had rich layers and a lively floral design, perfectly capturing the light and delicate nature of the Lily of the Valley.

“So beautiful.” Shi Qi’s gaze was completely captivated, and he couldn’t help but turn his wrist. “Did you draw this yourself?”

Such an exquisite bracelet didn’t look like a style that could be bought on the market; it was more like a custom-made piece.

Not only was it expensive, but the production also required time.

“I drew it, and I also modified some details with the designer. Do you like it?”

A long time ago, he had discovered that Shi Qi liked shiny things.

Whenever he wore earrings or necklaces with a strong presence, Shi Qi would subconsciously follow them with his gaze, like the hunting instinct of a feline.

“I like it.” Thinking of Shang Sui drawing the prototype stroke by stroke and finalizing the details based on existing craftsmanship, Shi Qi emphasized, “I like it very much.”

“You must have put a lot of thought into this bracelet for it to be this beautiful. I will cherish it well.”

From the last Flower Day Festival until now, Shang Sui must have been preparing for a long time, choosing to give him such a time-consuming and laborious gift today…

Shi Qi had a premonition, his heart skipping a beat: “You—”

“I have fantasized many times about what you would look like when you grew up. As I grew older, the you in my fantasies also grew up day by day, as if you were still by my side.”

Shang Sui said this with a speechless expression: “I told Shen Qianyu about this. He was very calm while listening, and after I finished, he told me to go for a Psychological Assessment immediately, fearing that if I continued to develop this way, I would end up in a mental institution.”

Thinking of that image, Shi Qi couldn’t help but smile.

But soon, thinking about what it meant for Shang Sui to undergo a Psychological Assessment, Shi Qi couldn’t smile anymore.

Shang Sui went on, remembering: ‘In the summer of the second year after we separated, I went back to Qi Jiang once and set a lantern adrift during the Thousand Lantern Festival.’

The grand and brilliant celebration was just as it had always been. He walked through the crowd of laughter alone, the fireworks on the water blurring the boundaries between heaven and earth, and amidst the deafening cheers, he suddenly felt exceptionally lonely.

As if it were a continuation of the past, he went to release that lantern.

“I don’t really believe that good luck happens for no reason in this world, so the wish I wrote on the lantern was that I wanted to see you again, and in exchange, I was willing to lose the memories of that summer.”

As Shang Sui described it, the corresponding images gradually emerged before Shi Qi’s eyes.

In the legends of Qi Jiang, if a lamp bearing a wish drifts far downstream, then one day the gods will hear it.

“Now that I think about it, my wish really reached the ears of the gods,” Shang Sui said softly. “It just so happened to be a very kind god. I didn’t pay any price, and I was lucky enough to meet you again.”

“But even without the memories from six years ago, I would still like you.”

“No matter how many times we start over, I will still be attracted to you.”

“Shi Qi,” Shang Sui called his name solemnly, “would you be willing to—”

“Wait a moment.” At the final moment, Shi Qi interrupted him.

If he didn’t act now, Shang Sui would finish everything.

Shi Qi ignored his reaction, took out the prepared diary, handed it to him, and said: “Turn to the last page.”

Under the shade of a tree in the distance, Qin Shuhe’s expression was blank: “What is he doing? Did Qi-shen get a proposal guidebook??”

Lin Yan didn’t know what Shi Qi intended to do either, and could only guess: “Could he have hollowed out the diary to put the Ring inside?”

“Who is actually proposing first?”

“In terms of sequence, it is Shang Sui, but he seems to have been interrupted before he could finish,” Jiang Yan sniffled. “No, even if I can’t hear anything, this atmosphere makes me so moved—”

Qin Shuhe retorted: “You can even cry watching a silent film, huh.”

“Forget it, Qin Shuhe, stop wiping your tears secretly,” Chu Tao tried to restrain herself. “Ahhhhh, I can’t cry anymore! My false eyelashes are about to fall into my eyes!”

The diary in his hand had a blue leather cover, decorated with small, bright yellow cat embroidery.

Shang Sui flipped to the last page as instructed, and the somewhat immature, elegant handwriting came into view:

[When I grow up, I want to…]

The diary stopped abruptly there, as if the owner had something urgent to do and only had time to write the beginning.

But on the next line, the childhood wish was completed in a more fluid script:

[This is my childhood wish. I never understood what I had decided, and for a long time, I just treated it as an unfinished empty sentence in my diary.

It took six years to understand, because I had forgotten you.

The day you told me that I saved you and made you love summer again, I found it incredible.

It felt a bit heavy, but more than that, it felt happy.

If you need someone to bear half the weight of your life and take you through the dark, damp rainy nights, I will always reach out my hand to you.

Once I hold on, whether it is standing firmly by your side or running wildly toward an uncertain future, I can do it.

Don’t you always say I am brave?

I will share everything with you without reservation, whether it is freedom, courage, or favoritism.

I have grown up, marry me.]