The Disliked Shou and the Charming Gong : Chapter 18: The Other Man

He Ning’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless.

Wen Junhe was like a large dog trying to please its owner, nuzzling his neck with the tip of his nose, his voice muffled: “Ningning, I was wrong before… I’ll change everything from now on…”

He Ning snapped back to his senses, scrambling backward with hands and feet, but his knee accidentally brushed against something.

His face instantly changed. His tone was harsh, biting out each word: “…Wen Junhe, did you take pills again?”

He Ning thought to himself, could this shameless bastard Wen Junhe just drop dead somewhere far away.

Wen Junhe’s breathing was clearly heavier, but he shook his head with a wronged expression: “No.”

The roots of his ears were red enough to drip blood: “This is… a normal reaction.”

He didn’t dare move randomly, afraid of provoking He Ning again, so he could only freeze in place.

He Ning directly cursed: “Bullshit!”

Wen Junhe grew so anxious that sweat beaded on his forehead. He grabbed He Ning’s wrist, wanting to prove it: “I really didn’t take any.”

He pressed He Ning’s hand downward: “Really, feel for yourself…”

He Ning tried to jerk his hand back as if shocked, but Wen Junhe held it firmly in place. Wen Junhe’s voice grew lower and lower, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down: “…I used to think I couldn’t do it without the pills. Then I saw a study online. I always lasted longer than the average adult man. I always thought it was because of the pills. I was afraid that if I didn’t take them, I wouldn’t last as long…”

“Are you showing off to me?” He Ning couldn’t break free, so angry the corners of his eyes turned red.

Wen Junhe hurriedly shook his head: “No!”

He was so anxious his words came out jumbled: “I just… I just wanted to… always be impressive in front of you… Don’t I know whether I can do it or not?”

His voice grew softer and softer, the last few words almost inaudible.

He Ning suddenly remembered things from before. Wen Junhe really had lasted an unusually long time every time.

He Ning’s hand was filled with a burning hot rod.

This rod had years of history with him. After all, back when his possessiveness was running high, he had even carefully measured it and said things like “this can only be mine.” So even with his eyes closed now, he knew every change in size like the back of his hand.

Even more absurdly, He Ning clearly felt that the thing in his hand was bigger than he remembered.

He couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander. Was there something special in the food in England? Or did all that rain over there make it swell up?

The restless heat of the rod made his palm go numb.

“Enough!” He Ning muttered quietly, his fingers unconsciously tightening a bit.

This size was already scary enough. If it got any bigger, it would be the death of him.

He could already imagine what a disaster it would be if they actually used it.

Wen Junhe’s breathing grew heavier and heavier, exceptionally clear in the quiet room. Every breath was like a reminder of what dangerous object he was holding.

He Ning was so angry he wanted to curse. He had just rubbed his back against the bedsheets trying to retreat when Wen Junhe seized the opportunity and pinned his whole body down. Those hands kneaded and squeezed at his waist, his mouth still apologizing nonstop: “Ningning, believe me, you’re really tempting to me. I’ve always wanted you so much.”

“Every day abroad I missed you so much. You blocked all my contact information. I could only look at old photos and videos of you on my phone.”

His breath blew against He Ning’s ear, hot and ticklish.

With nowhere left to retreat, He Ning was pressed against the headboard, listening to Wen Junhe’s repeated promises: “I made you suffer before. From now on, I’ll always put your feelings first…”

Before he could finish, he was suddenly kicked in the stomach by He Ning and rolled off the bed.

“Get lost!” He Ning gasped for breath, straightening his collar while fanning himself nonstop, his cheeks flushed an unnatural red.

But Wen Junhe wouldn’t give up. He propped himself up on the bed frame and looked up: “So do you believe me now?”

The strands of hair on his forehead were all disheveled, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

The back of his hand still bore the teeth marks from where He Ning had bitten him, yet he acted like he didn’t know what pain was, inching closer to the bedside again.

He Ning supported himself with one hand on his knee. He tugged at his messy collar, his other finger pointing at Wen Junhe: “Come any closer and I’ll call the police. I’m a married man now.”

Wen Junhe immediately raised both hands and lay flat on the floor.

He Ning glanced at him warily, then turned to twist the door handle, only to find it wouldn’t budge no matter how he turned it.

“The lock might be broken,” Wen Junhe explained quietly. He was about to get up to help when He Ning had already grabbed a pillow and retreated to the corner.

Wen Junhe suddenly didn’t know whether in He Ning’s eyes he was an impotent failure or a pervert who should be arrested. He couldn’t decide which was more hopeless.

He Ning suddenly seemed to lose control of his emotions, his voice shooting up: “Wen Junhe, are you fucking sick! Haven’t you tormented me enough all these years? I finally got married. If anyone sees me in the same room as you, how am I supposed to explain myself!” He choked halfway through, his eye rims instantly turning red.

He Ning cried.

Wen Junhe panicked, completely at a loss. He moved closer but didn’t dare touch him: “It won’t happen… Absolutely no one will know tomorrow. I swear.”

“Are you just determined to see me not living well?”

“No, I can’t bear to leave you. I can’t bear to.”

He Ning raised his hand to wipe his face, but the tears only multiplied the more he wiped. All the grievances accumulated over these years surged up at once, and he couldn’t stop crying.

Wen Junhe offered tissues, only able to repeat his apologies over and over.

He Ning cried himself out, and his emotions slowly settled.

The lock was broken and he couldn’t get out. He would have to wait until morning to call someone to fix it. He Ning lay back on the bed. Wen Junhe wisely curled up on the sofa in the corner. Between them lay a boundary line drawn by moonlight.

He Ning tossed and turned, unable to sleep, his back ramrod straight.

This felt like being locked in a cage with a hungry wolf crouching beside him. He had clearly felt just now that Wen Junhe was completely serious.

He Ning’s crying was half an act and half genuine fear.

Wen Junhe couldn’t stand seeing He Ning cry. He Ning had discovered this weakness by accident back in university.

Once during a mountain climbing activity, it was supposed to be Wen Junhe’s professional field practice, but He Ning insisted on tagging along. He ended up twisting his ankle halfway and was gasping in pain.

The main group was heading down the mountain. Wen Junhe frowned and scolded him a bit.

He Ning plopped down on the stone steps, tears pattering down, mixing with the dirt on his face, looking exactly like a little tabby cat.

Wen Junhe sighed and shut his mouth. He suddenly squatted down and turned his back to He Ning: “Get on.”

The path down the mountain was long. Wen Junhe carried him steadily on his back. He Ning lay on his back, able to feel that person’s tense shoulder blades and the faint sweat seeping from the side of his neck.

Even though Wen Junhe always acted like he couldn’t stand him, he had never actually abandoned him.

He Ning had never seen Wen Junhe like this before. The look in his eyes carried naked aggression, like a beast that had finally torn off its disguise. Before, it had always been He Ning who actively approach him, and Wen Junhe would either push him away or reluctantly accept. He had never pressed in step by step like this.

It seemed Wen Junhe really was sexually interested in him.

Wen Junhe lay in the dark with his eyes open, his gaze constantly glued to He Ning’s back.

The sofa was too narrow. Wen Junhe could only curl up his legs.

Neither of them spoke after that.

Wen Junhe stared at the ceiling, remembering how He Ning used to wait eagerly for his kisses. Back then he had been too restrained, cruelly suppressing himself. He had never been good at getting close to people since he was young. His overly intelligent mind made him live like an isolated island.

A large part of his friendliness was even an act.

Books said that people like them were most prone to psychological issues because they could never find their own kind.

Before, when He Ning chattered around him, he only found it noisy. Now he understood that it was the only light in his dark life.

Wen Junhe hadn’t gone to find He Ning immediately after returning to the country.

He stood in the coffee shop across from the office building, watching through the glass window as He Ning walked into the building. He was thinner than before, but his eyebrows and eyes were still the same as in his memory. After work, He Ning went straight home, never joining colleagues for dinner like the others.

Five years. Wen Junhe felt the punishment had been long enough.

He decided on his own that they should start over.

During those days abroad, He Ning always crept into his mind when he was most exhausted, perhaps after finishing complex project calculations late at night, or while driving back to his apartment alone.

His memory was too good. He even remembered details like He Ning needing to drink warm milk before bed. Yet at that time, he couldn’t figure out why he cared about these things.

Wen Junhe lived in an apartment that completely mismatched his personal style. The warm tones looked gentle. At friends’ gatherings he smiled politely. When his career succeeded he took it calmly. They all said he lived like a precisely running machine.

Until one late night of overtime, he suddenly realized that if he waited for He Ning to come find him, he would probably be waiting forever.

So he began handling the procedures to return to the country.

Wen Junhe had actually never lacked love growing up. Though his parents had left, his aunt’s family treated him like their own child, and at school he was the center of attention.

He Ning was truly the most special, different one. His love was too full, too hot, stuffing it into his arms like it cost nothing. Over time, Wen Junhe came to take all this for granted. He Ning’s gaze, his smile, even those childish jealous fits, they should all belong to him alone. No one else could have a share.

And now, He Ning was married.

Wen Junhe’s gaze was nailed to He Ning’s back like a predator locking onto its prey. This person should have belonged to him.

He could feel He Ning’s physical reaction. That instinctive closeness couldn’t lie. Even after five years, even though He Ning said the harshest words with his mouth, his body still remembered his temperature.

There was a tacit agreement between them that no outsider could intervene. One look and they could understand what the other was thinking.

He had just returned one step too late. Just this one step, and He Ning had become someone else’s.

But it didn’t matter. He had plenty of patience.

He Ning still loved him.

In his half-asleep state, He Ning felt a weight on his body, his breath coming faster under the pressure. His muddled thoughts hadn’t cleared yet when he sensed warm lips covering his own. Wen Junhe had actually stolen a kiss while he was sleeping.

He never thought Wen Junhe could be this shameless.

Before, if he told him to get lost.

Wen Junhe absolutely wouldn’t stick to him again.

But the person on top of him not only didn’t retreat, but pressed down even harder. He Ning struggled and cursed, but was pushed even more forcefully into the mattress.

Wen Junhe’s hand crept upward along his waistline.

He Ning arched his body trying to dodge, but his wrist was caught and pinned above his head.

He Ning’s fingers unconsciously clenched and unclenched, the bedsheets twisted into messy wrinkles.

The air was thick with a mix of alcohol and hormones. When Wen Junhe emerged from under the covers, his hair was still damp at the ends.

He Ning deliberately called out Zhou Ji’s name a couple of times. He didn’t want to admit that he truly had no power to resist. He wanted Wen Junhe to stop on his own.

When Wen Junhe heard it, he was clearly stunned for a moment. But contrary to what He Ning had expected, he didn’t stop. Instead, he became even more excessive.

Different from Wen Junhe’s aggressive aura, He Ning’s body was always surrounded by that gentle woody scent, though now it was mixed with other smells.

Sweat slid down He Ning’s forehead, leaving dark marks on the light-colored bedsheets, until he finally passed out from exhaustion.

These years He Ning’s sleep had always been light, but this night he slept unusually deeply.

In his half-dreaming state, he could feel the warm chest pressed against his back, Wen Junhe’s breath regularly brushing across the nape of his neck.

When morning light filtered through the curtain gap, He Ning stared at the ceiling for a while. Did this count as cheating?

He and Zhou Ji had made no promises, and he and Wen Junhe hadn’t gone all the way.

But it still wasn’t right.

He Ning sat up. The mattress made a soft sound. He Ning maintained the motion of lifting the down comforter off himself, but Wen Junhe had already opened his eyes and was watching him.

“…I drank too much last night…”

Wen Junhe’s face was as calm as usual. He grasped He Ning’s wrist, his fingers landing on the thin skin, and spoke: “Can you believe now that I can perform for you?”

He Ning glanced sideways at Wen Junhe’s hand. His fingers were fair and slender, the knuckles distinct, not rough-looking but elegantly refined. The nail beds were pink, and the wrist bones were beautifully proportioned. Yesterday…

Forgetting was no difficult task for He Ning now. In a few more days he probably wouldn’t think about it anymore.

Fate had given He Ning a chance to choose again. He felt he had already returned to the right track.

Being respectful but distant with his husband, climbing upward with the Zhou family’s power. Now he just needed to make Han Qing pay the price, and he would be as free as a bird in the sky. No one would ever make him heartbroken again.

“This is completely meaningless. Whether you can perform or not has nothing to do with me. Also, Wen Junhe, does sleeping with someone else’s wife give you that much pleasure!”

He Ning’s last sentence was spoken with provocation and mockery.

Wen Junhe’s lips pressed together slightly upon hearing this, looking不服气: “But you clearly enjoyed it too?”

He Ning defended himself: “I’m not a corpse! And I was drunk. If I had no reaction after all that messing around, then I’d really be broken. And you know how it is, we’re men.”

Soft light-colored bedding draped and overlapped. Clothes were piled messily on the floor, pillows scattered around. He Ning felt this scene was too much for his eyes.

While putting on his clothes, He Ning condemned Wen Junhe from a moral high ground: “Do you know what your behavior makes you?”

Wen Junhe looked at him and calmly asked what.

He Ning picked up his phone nearby. There were two missed calls and messages from Zhou Ji, asking when he would be home, and mentioning that Zhou Chong should take his medicine.

“You’re the other man! Why would you, Wen Junhe, degrade yourself to this level? So many people like you. You could find anyone.”

Wen Junhe frowned: “But I only like you.”

These words left He Ning choking on his response.

He Ning turned his head and called Zhou Ji back.

“Hey, A Ji, sorry, I played too late last night and just slept here… Zhou Chong did too.”

“We’ll be heading home soon.”

Wen Junhe stared at He Ning’s profile, listening to him speaking softly to his so-called husband about his whereabouts. He lowered his eyes. He was no longer so sure of himself. Instead, he felt an unprecedented panic.

Before He Ning could finish the call, Wen Junhe suddenly wrapped his arms around He Ning’s waist from behind, his chin resting on his shoulder. This intimate gesture made He Ning’s whole body stiffen.

Wen Junhe was never someone who would do these kinds of gestures before.

So He Ning hurriedly said goodbye to Zhou Ji and glared at him: “What are you doing?”

Wen Junhe pressed his lips together, his voice muffled: “Didn’t you say I’m the other man? I’m just doing what the other man should do.”

He Ning couldn’t believe it: “Are you sick?”

Wen Junhe nodded, actually nodding seriously: “I am sick.”

As he spoke, his arms tightened a few more degrees, burying his face in the hollow of He Ning’s neck.

He Ning tried hard to pry his hands apart: “Let go of me.”

Wen Junhe wouldn’t let go: “You can put on fake smiles and play nice with Meng Xuan, but you won’t give me even a bit of a good expression.”

He Ning: “I’m using him!”

Wen Junhe’s tone was close to pleading: “Use me too. Use me however you want.”

He Ning really felt that Wen Junhe was seriously ill. He shoved Wen Junhe away and rushed to the door, twisting the handle with force. This time the door actually opened. He ran out without looking back, his footsteps echoing urgently down the hallway.

Wen Junhe stood in place looking at his empty palm. A sense of loss welled up from the bottom of his heart. Traces of intimacy still lingered in the room, yet He Ning was now like a gust of wind that no one could hold onto.