Don't pull away, Lan-ge. I'll just hold you, please

Wen Zhiyan's slightly cool hand touched Jiang Lan's warm skin, making him shiver involuntarily and glance instinctively at the camera in the corner of the room.

The little red light that had been on was now out.

Although this was a livestream, the production team couldn't really show the audience how every guest slept all night long.

So after midnight, the livestream would be cut off.

But Jiang Lan still reached out and caught Wen Zhiyan's wrist, stopping him:

"Wen Zhiyan, don't touch me."

Wen Zhiyan raised his eyes and looked into Jiang Lan's. After a moment, he obediently withdrew his hand and said mildly, "Sorry. I didn't mean anything else by it."

Hearing Wen Zhiyan's tone suddenly turn devoid of warmth, Jiang Lan felt another surge of irritation.

He pulled his bathrobe closed and turned his head to look at the floor lamp beside the bed:

"Just say what you came to say. It's late."

Wen Zhiyan sat down across from Jiang Lan, his posture casual, and delivered a line he should have said the moment they reunited.

He said, "Lan-ge, long time no see."

Watching Wen Zhiyan say those words as casually as he had wanted him to, Jiang Lan felt his chest tighten, anger simmering inside.

He closed his eyes briefly:

"Wen Zhiyan, you know I hate hearing that kind of small talk."

Wen Zhiyan lowered his head, his gaze falling on Jiang Lan's calves, exposed beneath his bathrobe. "It's not really small talk. Before getting down to business, there has to be some lead-in, doesn't there?"

At that, Jiang Lan scoffed:

"You really have changed."

The old Wen Zhiyan had said whatever was on his mind, blunt and unrestrained, getting him into plenty of fights with other alphas. Now he had become smooth, too, and knew what a lead-in was.

Jiang Lan realized that from the moment Wen Zhiyan appeared before him, no matter what he said or did, he couldn't stop comparing the man he was now with the man he had been.

He didn't know what he was reminiscing about, or what he was hoping for, or what the point of these comparisons was.

Wen Zhiyan chuckled at his words. "It's been so many years. It's normal to change. I can't really stay as you said I was, never making any progress."

His tone remained mild, not quite cold, but without any extra feeling either, only simple affability.

Jiang Lan was speechless.

He had indeed said that Wen Zhiyan never made any progress.

Thinking back, it had probably been during the last six months before their breakup, and he had said it to Wen Zhiyan more than once.

As for the reasons, there were far too many. Jiang Lan couldn't remember them all off the top of his head.

Perhaps they were just angry words, like those any couple exchanged during arguments. Or perhaps, a few times, he had meant them.

Jiang Lan suddenly felt exhausted. He didn't want to keep recalling all the unhappiness of the past at a time like this.

So he softened his tone a little and told Wen Zhiyan, "Skip the lead-in. There's no need. Just say it."

Since Jiang Lan said there was no need for a lead-in, Wen Zhiyan stopped with the high-sounding nonsense.

Looking at Jiang Lan's somewhat numb face, he said bluntly, "Lan-ge, over these years, have you ever thought about starting over?"

For a moment, Jiang Lan couldn't understand what Wen Zhiyan meant. "I started over the moment you left."

Wen Zhiyan looked at his profile. "I mean, have you ever thought about trying again, with me?"

Jiang Lan felt his gland start throbbing again.

Wen Zhiyan's question was truly a tricky one.

For a moment, Jiang Lan actually didn't know how to answer.

If he said he had, then what did that make all the suffering, the sleepless nights, the countless dazed moments, and the countless dreams he'd had about Wen Zhiyan over these seven years?

If he said he hadn't, Jiang Lan couldn't get the words out. He was afraid he'd be struck by lightning.

Jiang Lan raised a hand and pressed the back of his neck, answering ambiguously:

"What if I have? What if I haven't? Some things are over and done with. We were both at fault. Why think so much about it and lose sleep for nothing?"

Jiang Lan thought Wen Zhiyan had changed, but in truth, hadn't he changed himself?

Seven years ago, he hadn't yet mastered the art of saying things that amounted to saying nothing. Now, he could do it effortlessly.

"Really?" Wen Zhiyan's voice rose slightly at his answer.

Jiang Lan was just about to keep up his stubborn denials when he saw Wen Zhiyan bend down and pick up an unremarkable little gray tin from beside his feet.

It was Jiang Lan's incense tin.

At the sight of it, Jiang Lan's first reaction was that he couldn't let Wen Zhiyan find out what was inside.

He shot up from the sofa and lunged at Wen Zhiyan, about to snatch the incense tin away, only for Wen Zhiyan to lift his hand out of reach.

Jiang Lan lost his footing and fell into Wen Zhiyan's arms.

In his panic, he instinctively reached for something to brace himself against, only to plant his hand on Wen Zhiyan's lower abdomen.

Wen Zhiyan let out a muffled groan of pain, and Jiang Lan instantly panicked. He pulled his hand away, letting himself sit in Wen Zhiyan's lap. "Are you okay?"

Feeling the solid weight in his arms, Wen Zhiyan couldn't help laughing.

The moment Jiang Lan heard Wen Zhiyan laugh, he knew he was pretending again. He raised a hand and punched him, not hard, and said irritably, "Is this fun for you?"

His eyes curved in a smile as Wen Zhiyan looked at Jiang Lan. "Lan-ge, in such a hurry to throw yourself into my arms?"

Jiang Lan scoffed and was about to get off Wen Zhiyan when Wen Zhiyan caught his arm and pulled him back into his embrace.

Jiang Lan was just about to struggle when he heard Wen Zhiyan whisper against his ear:

"Don't pull away, Lan-ge. I'll just hold you, please."

Warm breath washed over Jiang Lan's ear, leaving him numb.

He gritted his teeth and stopped struggling. "Give it to me."

Wen Zhiyan wrapped an arm around Jiang Lan's waist. "If you don't want me to look, I definitely won't. Let me hold you, and I'll give it to you."

Wen Zhiyan's embrace.

Didn't Jiang Lan want it?

He dreamed of it.

But to Jiang Lan, an embrace like this was like drinking poison to quench his thirst, draining a pond to catch the fish. The more he craved it and couldn't pull himself free, the more painful losing it would be.

What had happened seven years ago could fairly be called being flayed alive and having his tendons torn out. Jiang Lan didn't dare imagine going through it again.

So he still pressed down on Wen Zhiyan's wrist, moved his hand away, and got up from his lap, saying indifferently, "You wish. It's just a lousy tin. Keep it."

He was gambling, betting that Wen Zhiyan wouldn't take that one remark as license to carry off the incense tin without restraint.

Even in the worst case, so what if Wen Zhiyan took it? At most, he'd discover that the incense Jiang Lan used still smelled like his pheromones. At most, he'd find out that Jiang Lan had never been able to forget him all these years, that he even needed the scent of his pheromones to sleep. At most...

At most, my ass.

If Wen Zhiyan really found out, how would Jiang Lan ever save face?

So Jiang Lan added:

"It's just some incense to help me sleep. I'm getting older and don't sleep well. If you want it, take it back and try it. If you like it, I'll give you another couple later."

What he meant was, I don't sleep well and need this stuff to help me. If you, Wen Zhiyan, insist on shamelessly taking something I cherish without any regard for that, there's nothing I can say.

Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, Wen Zhiyan handed the incense tin over:

"I wasn't trying to take your things."