Ji Yanzhi gazed at him without blinking for several seconds, then suddenly let out a deep, satisfied sigh and drew him into his arms.
"You know, it was those words of yours that gave me the confidence to take that damn ticket from Lu Yanchu."
Sometimes, Ji Yanzhi thought he was being unreasonable. On one hand, he was like a fiercely territorial beast, desperate to be the only thing in Ji Ting's entire world. On the other, he knew perfectly well that Ji Ting should never be bound by anything. He was a star in his own right.
Whenever Ji Yanzhi couldn't resolve that inner contradiction, Ji Ting would give him all the reassurance he needed, enveloping him in tenderness.
At the thought, Ji Yanzhi contentedly rubbed his cheek against the crown of Ji Ting's head and held him tighter.
Yet Ji Ting frowned slightly in his arms: [...Ji Yanzhi accepted the tickets before I said, "I'll leave the decision to the Tasmanian Devil." Chronologically, my words were a subsequent response. How could they become the "cause" of his earlier behavior?]
Hearing that academically perplexed inner voice, Ji Yanzhi couldn't help laughing. "I just think going to the premiere would be nice. Lu Yanchu may be annoying, but he wasn't wrong about one thing. The sensory impact of a computer screen and a giant IMAX screen is worlds apart."
He lowered his head and looked into Ji Ting's eyes. "You want to see for yourself what it finally looks like, too, don't you?"
Ji Ting slowly nodded in his arms. "Purely from the perspective of evaluating the visual presentation, I do want to see it. But we could buy our own tickets once it's released. The effect would be the same."
Ji Yanzhi gave a noncommittal little snort. "Well, Lu