Chapter 61 – Quarrel
Although he knew it was just a rant, Yin Sijue’s heart still sank when he heard the word hate. It felt like a thousand-pound boulder pressing down on him, making it almost impossible to breathe.
He knelt on one knee in front of Ji Wei’s sofa, his hand gently resting on the boy’s knee. Looking up at Ji Wei’s pink eyelids, he whispered soothingly: “I’m sorry, Weiwei.”
He paused for two seconds. “I kept it from you because I was worried you’d take the blame for other people’s mistakes. I didn’t want you to feel guilty about this mess. Because I…”
Yin Sijue rubbed Ji Wei’s knee with his fingertips, feeling the slight tremor in his palm. He sighed softly, defeated.
“It would hurt.”
Ji Wei’s heart froze, and he almost burst into tears. His eyes turned red as he bit down on his lower lip. He tried to hold back his emotions, but his words still came out between sobs.
“You’re heartbroken—but shouldn’t I be?”
“If you had told me earlier, I could have posted a clarification on Weibo. I could have verified my identity online. Even if my account couldn’t be recovered, even if they still didn’t believe me, at least I could have shared some of the anger. Anything would have been better than finding out at the last minute.”
“I hate seeing the messages only after my phone was taken away. I hate hearing people scolding you in the background. I hate feeling powerless.”
He paused for a long moment before breaking down. “I hate you…”
Ji Wei kept crying. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes like beads from a broken string, falling one by one onto Yin Sijue’s arm, each drop piercing his heart.
“I know.” Yin Sijue’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice trembled as if he were choking back tears. He sat on the sofa and pulled Ji Wei into his arms, pressing his head against his chest. His voice was hoarse and low. “I’m sorry.”
Ji Wei hated his own tears. Why did he always cry so easily? It felt like showing weakness.
“What should I do? I don’t want to cry. I can’t help it.”
Yin Sijue pressed a gentle kiss to Ji Wei’s hair. His heart felt as though it had been pierced by countless poisoned needles, the pain spreading densely and endlessly. Ji Wei’s crying tore him apart.
It turns out that liking someone too much really can hurt your heart.
He waited quietly as Ji Wei vented his emotions. Only when his lapel was soaked and Ji Wei’s trembling finally subsided did he realize he had calmed down.
Worried that he’d become dehydrated from crying, Yin Sijue asked softly, “Do you want some water? I’ll get it for you.”
Ji Wei shook his head, his strength drained by his emotions. He leaned weakly against Yin Sijue’s shoulder, hiding his tear-swollen eyes, and said in a sulky voice:
“Don’t treat me like a weakling, Yin Sijue. I’m not a child who needs protecting.”
“I can protect you, too.”
Yin Sijue held Ji Wei’s thin shoulders and drew him up from his embrace. His love for him reached its peak.
“Yes. You’ve always protected me.”
In the game—and even more so outside of it.
Every stage of his life had been made more complete because he met Ji Wei.
He touched the boy’s swollen eyelids with his fingertips and said with concern, “You’re puffy. I’ll get you some ice.”
Yin Sijue stood up and went to the bathroom for a towel. After just a few steps, he realized the person who should have been resting on the sofa was following close behind, clinging to him shyly.
He had cried too much and now felt embarrassed. Yin Sijue understood everything. Smiling faintly, he allowed Ji Wei to trail after him like a little tail.
After preparing the ice towel, Yin Sijue brought the boy back to the sofa. He cupped Ji Wei’s face and gently tilted it upward, as if handling precious, fragile porcelain.
The towel covered Ji Wei’s eyes, and the cool touch made him sigh in relief. The soreness around his eyes gradually eased.
He sat cross-legged on the sofa, facing Yin Sijue. As the towel grew warm, someone flipped it over for him without needing to be asked, and the cycle continued.
For a while, they remained in this quiet rhythm—yet something felt off.
With his vision blocked, Ji Wei’s other senses sharpened, amplifying every detail. He could feel Yin Sijue’s warm gaze, hear his heavier breathing, and sense the pounding of a heartbeat.
Was it his own—or Yin Sijue’s? He couldn’t tell. The rhythms tangled together, inseparable.
Gulp. Ji Wei swallowed uncontrollably.
Yin Sijue’s eyes darkened as he stared at him in silence. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing…” Ji Wei hesitated, then asked uneasily, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“What?” The air between them seemed to thicken like gel. Yin Sijue wasn’t even sure what he had just said. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ji Wei.
To stop the towel from slipping off, Ji Wei tilted his head back, propping his slender white arms on the sofa. His red lips parted slightly, like a kitten silently asking for a kiss.
Yin Sijue’s lashes lowered, his gaze lingering on those soft lips. Finally, unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed him.
Caught off guard, Ji Wei’s eyes flew open, but all he saw was white. The towel stayed firmly in place, pressed down by Yin Sijue’s hand.
Ji Wei’s chin was caught, his lips first pecked and then crushed beneath a stronger kiss. He couldn’t escape—he could only let Yin Sijue’s forceful lips steal every breath away.
For some reason, this kiss was fiercer than usual. Ji Wei felt a sharp sting at the tip of his tongue and instinctively tried to retreat. But his head was seized at once, forcing him deeper into an even more suffocating embrace.
He couldn’t see—nothing at all.
The intimate sounds of lips mingling and the gasps slipping from Yin Sijue’s throat echoed in Ji Wei’s ears. Details he had never noticed during their usual kisses now magnified endlessly in his mind.
Ji Wei’s breathing grew more rapid, his senses going numb. He had no room left to think of anything else—only to press closer and closer.
Deprived of both sight and breath, his body began to tremble slightly.
It felt strange, unbearable, and yet inexplicably thrilling.
Mid-kiss, Yin Sijue realized something was wrong.
Worried his boyfriend might be suffocating after crying for so long, he released him after a few moments. But unexpectedly, Ji Wei leaned forward again, whining softly for another kiss.
Shifting positions, he went from sitting cross-legged to kneeling, grabbing a pillow from the sofa and sliding it beneath himself, trying to hide his reaction.
This wasn’t the usual Ji Wei.
Yin Sijue narrowed his eyes, lost in thought. A sudden idea surfaced.
The thought made him smile faintly. He loosened his hold and gripped Ji Wei’s shoulders to stop him from moving. His other hand slipped under the pillow as he leaned close and whispered in his ear:
“Weiwei… those articles you read on Weibo…”
Ji Wei’s body stiffened instantly.
Yin Sijue’s lips curved in satisfaction—his guess was right.
His hands moved even more boldly beneath the pillow, quick and precise, as if typing on a keyboard. His voice dropped lower, tinged with a smile:
“That blogger asked in the comments which one you liked best.”
“You liked the blindfolded one the most, didn’t you, Weiwei?”
Tears spilled from beneath the towel. Ji Wei nearly burst from shame, sobbing even harder than during their earlier argument.
Yin Sijue’s hands didn’t stop, teasing him until he was on the brink of collapse.
The hardest secret to confess—dragged out by the person he loved most.
“You, you…” Ji Wei hiccupped through his tears. “Do you think I… I’m…”
“Yes,” his voice trembled, “…a pervert.”
Ji Wei let out muffled sobs, his body quivering.
And then—light.
At the last moment, Yin Sijue lifted the towel from Ji Wei’s face.
He wanted to see him—see exactly what state he was in now.
…
The moment he opened his eyes, it felt like a lifetime had passed. Ji Wei saw Yin Sijue’s lowered eyelashes, his gaze fixed on him as if he wanted to devour him whole.
Ji Wei’s face flushed with shame, a tear clinging to his lashes. He felt completely powerless, yet still forced himself to look away.
“Not perverted at all, Weiwei.”
Yin Sijue kissed away the tears at the corners of his eyes and murmured softly, “I like it.”
Still embarrassed, Ji Wei didn’t want to talk. His ears burned red as he lowered his head and bumped it against Yin Sijue’s chest.
Then he noticed—his boyfriend seemed to have a rather urgent problem that needed attention.
“You…”
“I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll wash the towel while I’m there.” Yin Sijue pulled away the tear-soaked white cloth.
But just as he stood up, Ji Wei grabbed his hand.
“No… don’t go,” he muttered nervously.
He seemed timid—someone who once felt too shy to even add a contact on WeChat—yet his words now were bolder than anyone else’s.
Yin Sijue pressed his hand and refused. “No.”
Rejected, Ji Wei immediately grew annoyed. “You can’t?”
Yin Sijue didn’t want to argue. He brushed his fingers through Ji Wei’s messy hair, smoothing it gently. “You’re not prepared. You’ll get hurt.”
“Don’t we have wine and a hotel?”
“That’s not enough.” Yin Sijue sighed. “You can’t treat it so casually, baby.”
“But…” Ji Wei had already been carried away by the moment. He didn’t want his boyfriend to run off to the bathroom every time. “Is there another way?”
A thought suddenly struck him. After a brief, silent struggle, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes—and knelt down.
Before he could do anything further, he was swept up.
Yin Sijue’s voice carried a hint of laughter as he gripped Ji Wei’s waist. “What are you thinking?”
Ji Wei said nothing, only stared at him stubbornly. His face was flushed, tears streaking his temples. Anyone looking at him could easily imagine what had just taken place.
Yin Sijue’s eyes darkened, his breathing grew heavier, and his grip on the boy’s waist tightened.
“You really want to help me?”
“…Hmm.”
Yin Sijue studied him for a moment, then reached toward the bedside. He retrieved the silk eye mask provided by the hotel and slipped it onto Ji Wei’s head.
The rustle of clothing brushed against Ji Wei’s ears, and before his eyes stretched only darkness. His skin prickled at the air, then grew feverishly hot.
The mask was a vivid, fiery red, cutting across his face and turning him into an image of stark innocence and dangerous allure. His smooth jawline flowed into the pale curve of his neck.
Yin Sijue leaned close to Ji Wei’s ear and commanded in a low voice:
“Take it off.”
“Pull it up.”
…
…
…
After washing up and returning to bed, Yin Sijue gently touched the faint red mark beneath Ji Wei’s eye.
“Are you feeling uncomfortable after hiding for so long?”
“No.” Ji Wei rubbed at his sore waist, then shyly pressed himself against Yin Sijue’s chest. “The reviewer won’t let me say.”
His breath hitched slightly, remembering the force with which Yin Sijue had gripped his thigh. He hadn’t actually done anything, yet the reviewer had already marked it yellow.
He leaned back in his boyfriend’s arms for a while. Even though the author had revised the scene five times, Ji Wei still mustered the last of his energy to check Weibo. After confirming that most of the negative public opinion had disappeared, he tossed his phone aside, rolled back toward Yin Sijue, and clung to him like an octopus.
“Go to sleep, go to sleep. Brother Qiu seems to have sent me more than thirty messages. We’ll reply tomorrow.”