The Disliked Shou and the Charming Gong : Chapter 20: Wen Junhe Is Really Putting in the Effort as the Other Man

He Ning had originally come to talk sense into Wen Junhe.

It was Wen Junhe who had contacted him first, sending text after text to his phone, making He Ning feel like he was being provoked.

After receiving the fifth text asking “Ningning, have you thought it over? I’ll be very obedient,” something inside He Ning’s head just snapped.

He couldn’t even say what exactly he was angry about. Whether he was angry at Wen Junhe for degrading himself, or angry about something else. He was the one who had said those words.

By the time he came to his senses, He Ning had already stormed over there.

Once is a stranger, twice is familiar. The car door had barely shut when Wen Junhe went at him like an animal in heat. He Ning’s back pressed tightly against the seat, every muscle in his body tensed like a fully drawn bow. His cheeks burned fiercely, even the tips of his ears red enough to drip blood.

The car had originally driven out of the garage, then stopped halfway. The storm battered against the windows, a curtain of water separating the inside from the outside into two different worlds. Cold air seeped in through the cracks, but it couldn’t dispel the steaming heat inside the car.

He Ning’s breathing grew more and more rapid, his mouth opening as if gasping for air. Wen Junhe’s presence surrounded him relentlessly, burning hot enough to make him dizzy.

He Ning had wanted to push Wen Junhe away, but his body betrayed his will and leaned slightly forward. He froze for an instant, then finally gave up resisting. He tilted his head back, enduring the other person’s eager kisses, and muttered a vague warning: “Don’t… don’t leave marks.”

Wen Junhe’s tie was still loosely wrapped around He Ning’s wrist, his shirt collar hanging open messily, a few strands of hair falling down.

Even though he was kneeling in a humble posture, and had done even more intimate things not long before, those brows and eyes remained cold and noble, carrying the pride he was born with.

He Ning had thought he had already forgotten that absurd night, but now all the memories came flooding back like a tide.

Compared to their awkward and inexperienced interactions from years ago, every contact now felt like opening Pandora’s box.

Wen Junhe paid no attention whatsoever to He Ning’s cold words and harsh tone, as if they all just went in one ear and out the other.

Since Wen Junhe was determined to play this adult game, he would play along to the end.

“You know the rules a lover should follow, right?”

Wen Junhe made a sound of agreement while putting on his clothes: “Go to a hotel?”

“Fine, let’s go.” He Ning laughed coldly. When they arrived, he was the first to push open the car door.

He Ning still remembered how back then, when he entered a hotel with Wen Junhe, the one who was awkward and resistant was clearly Wen Junhe. Now the roles were reversed, and he was the one feeling completely uncomfortable.

The room card beeped as it unlocked the door. He had barely taken a few steps inside before the automatic locking sound behind him had even finished, and Wen Junhe suddenly pounced on him from behind.

He Ning stumbled, and the two of them tumbled into the sofa.

The coolness of the leather sofa seeped through his slightly chilled shirt. He Ning shifted uncomfortably. Wen Junhe’s entire weight pressed down on him, so heavy he could barely breathe.

His palm pressed haphazardly against his waist, the force strong enough to leave marks. He Ning had just tried to push himself up when he was pressed back down even harder, followed by eager kisses landing on his cheek and lips.

He Ning tilted his head back gasping for breath, his lips rubbed raw and burning hot.

He suddenly grabbed Wen Junhe’s collar and yanked him down, cursing. Only then did Wen Junhe pull back slightly. He stared straight at He Ning, his gaze shockingly innocent: “Aren’t we doing it?”

He asked frankly and directly, as if the impatient person from just now wasn’t him.

They had already tangled together impatiently in the car once. Wen Junhe had used his hands to get him off. He Ning took a moment to collect himself, then spoke with a cold voice and stubborn mouth: “Of course! Why else would I have called you out?”

His gaze unconsciously landed on Wen Junhe’s lips. That person immediately understood and leaned in.

But He Ning suddenly turned his head away, only letting him leave a wet kiss mark on his chin.

“No kissing on the mouth,” he ordered. “Not without my permission.”

Wen Junhe obediently made a sound of agreement, his gaze innocent for someone who had just done that kind of thing.

He Ning felt inexplicably awkward under his stare, so he simply pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Smoke swirled between the two of them. He let his hand hang down, and Wen Junhe’s gaze kept following the fingers that held the cigarette, his Adam’s apple moving almost imperceptibly.

“I mean… what exactly are you thinking.”

Wen Junhe: “I just want to stay with you through whatever comes next, no matter what my position is.”

The current Wen Junhe knew all too well how to use his advantages. That face that was once forever cold as ice could now reveal a wronged expression at exactly the right moment.

His brow furrowed slightly, the corners of his eyes drooping.

The elite aura that once kept strangers at bay was now the perfect contrast. He Ning hated him most when he looked like this. He knew full well it was all an act.

With complicated feelings, He Ning crooked a finger at Wen Junhe. That person immediately leaned in.

Wen Junhe’s learning ability was indeed astonishing. Now he could grasp every detail with perfect precision. His Adam’s apple bobbed with swallowing motions, his thin lips glistening with moisture, paired with that normally cold and abstinent face. The contrast was enough to make one’s heart skip a beat.

He Ning’s fingers trembled badly. At first he could still manage to take a drag and blow it in Wen Junhe’s face. Before long the smoke hadn’t even been exhaled before it dissipated into the air. Later Wen Junhe reached out and took the cigarette from him, stubbing it out in the ashtray.

Once this kind of thing started, it didn’t stop. He Ning felt his self-control was indeed lacking, but later things far exceeded his expectations.

He felt like a piece of dough being kneaded and flattened at will. Because he was soft enough, white enough, but he never knew he could be soft to that degree.

Of course the softer and weaker he was, the more it aroused a desire to dominate. He Ning knew this, so he tried his best to act tough.

He Ning had originally thought he would probably end up like a little bread roll. He never expected that Wen Junhe, this ruthless person, would treat him like a pancake instead.

One side after another.

And in the end he even wanted to add filling.

But He Ning didn’t really like doing it from behind. He had trauma about that.

Wen Junhe even had to stop midway, as if admiring his own handiwork, looking satisfied at how this pancake was being cooked to perfection.

“…Didn’t I say no kissing me without my permission?”

Wen Junhe traced the lines of He Ning’s face with meticulous attention, his voice low: “Sorry. I won’t do it again next time.”

“Who told you not to wear one.”

Wen Junhe said it felt tight with discomfort. He Ning glared at Wen Junhe, his tone unpleasant: “You didn’t prepare in advance, and you thought I’d still be like before?”

No matter what Wen Junhe said now, it would only earn He Ning’s coldness and sarcasm: “…I’ll remember next time.”

He Ning slept drowsily for less than three hours. Though he was dead tired, he forced his sore eyes open. Wen Junhe’s nose tip was still pressed against the back of his neck, startled awake by his movement, and he mumbled groggily: “…Ningning, not sleeping anymore?”

His voice carried the hoarseness of someone just woken up.

“Do you think it looks proper for a married man to stay out all night?” He Ning delivered his line and reached for his clothes scattered on the floor.

Only when dressing did he see clearly the marks on his body. From his collarbone to his waist, dense kiss marks and fingerprints covered him like an abstract painting.

The corner of He Ning’s mouth twitched. If anyone saw this, it would be absolute proof of an affair.

Wen Junhe leaned against the headboard watching him, his gaze inching over those masterpieces, satisfied like a beast after a full meal: “Won’t you get caught going back at this hour?”

He Ning fastened his cufflinks and said casually: “Zhou Ji is on a business trip.”

Zhou Ji really was going to be away for half a month. Though they shared a room, they didn’t sleep in the same bed.

Hearing this, Wen Junhe’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, his expression slightly displeased. Watching He Ning’s movements, he also got out of bed.

He Ning: “What are you doing?”

Wen Junhe pulled on his shirt and said he’d give him a ride.

He Ning had just said it wasn’t necessary when Wen Junhe suddenly walked behind him, his palm pressing against that slender waist, and began massaging it for him. He Ning’s body instantly tensed.

The warmth of Wen Junhe’s palm came through the fabric, the pressure neither too light nor too heavy, exactly easing the sore and swollen feeling.

“Seeing you uncomfortable, I wanted to rub it for you.” Wen Junhe’s voice came through. He Ning lowered his eyes. If Wen Junhe had been willing to treat him with such gentleness and consideration five years ago, they never would have ended up where they were today.

“When’s next time?”

He Ning said unnaturally: “Wait for me to contact you. In any case, if this relationship gets discovered by anyone, Wen Junhe, we stop contacting each other. You know I won’t get a divorce.”

Wen Junhe lowered his eyes and said okay.

He Ning himself felt his words were absolutely despicable. Summoning him at will and dismissing him just as easily, not even giving a definite time. Yet Wen Junhe was actually happy to accept it.

He Ning didn’t know what was going on in Wen Junhe’s head.

As he went downstairs, Wen Junhe insisted on seeing him off. He Ning drove away, until Wen Junhe waving his hand disappeared in the rearview mirror, and he muttered: “Let’s see when you’ll back out on your own.”

After that, they maintained a secret meeting frequency.

He Ning spoke with biting sarcasm, every word carrying barbs, deliberately stabbing at people’s sore spots. He used him and threw him away, thinking he was being openly scummy and despicable enough.

But Wen Junhe refused to play by the rules. He lowered his eyelashes, his voice warm and mild, saying “As long as you can spare some time to be with me, I’m very satisfied.” He Ning only felt something press lightly against his chest, not quite painful but suffocating.

This kind of nearly humble concession was harder to deal with than any sharp accusation.

Zhou Chong came to He Ning’s office every few days, dressed in a suit and leaning on the sofa, smiling like a proper gentleman, but his words always circled back to Wen Junhe.

How Wen Junhe had become the way he was now, Zhou Chong’s “casual” nudges and “well-meaning” arrangements for them to be alone had a lot to do with it.

In public settings, He Ning avoided Wen Junhe like the plague, sitting far apart during meetings, deliberately avoiding even eye contact at cocktail parties.

That day when the presentation began and the lights dimmed, Wen Junhe’s leather shoe quietly rubbed against He Ning’s calf. The fabric of custom tailored suit pants slid against his skin. The corner of He Ning’s mouth twitched. Could he say it? Wen Junhe actually quite enjoyed the thrill of an affair.

They started out doing it at hotels. After several times, Wen Junhe suggested going to his place.

He Ning didn’t want to go.

So Wen Junhe opened his mouth and said: “Recently my lawyer got some new developments about the case.”

He Ning looked up at him but didn’t respond.

The prosecution had mostly accepted the evidence He Ning submitted. Han Qing’s indictment had already been filed, the charges listed out clearly one by one, black and white, ironclad evidence. But things in this world were never smooth sailing just because the evidence was solid.

Han Qing’s connections were like an invisible web, silently spanning across the judicial process, delaying, pressuring, mediating, even making certain key approval steps suddenly become unusually slow.

The corner of He Ning’s lips pulled into a smile without warmth: “Does he think he can drag this out?”

Once after He Ning came out of the shower, he was originally looking at documents on Wen Junhe’s computer. He happened to exit and saw Wen Junhe’s study materials on the desktop.

When he clicked open the directory, there were even heterosexual ones inside.

He Ning casually clicked on one. In the video, the person on the bottom was crying out to the heavens, their buttocks twisting almost into a flower. But the person’s face and figure were far from Wen Junhe’s level.

He Ning looked at the person twisting their buttocks and suddenly wondered if he looked like that on Wen Junhe too.

When he turned around, he also saw several books on Wen Junhe’s bookshelf: “You’re Not a Substitute, But His Essential Need,” “Make Him Depend on Your Emotional Value: High Level Companionship Rules”…

He Ning: “…”

Wen Junhe was really putting in the effort as the other man.

When Wen Junhe pushed open the door, he was carrying a plate of cut fruit. He casually fed He Ning a piece of apple.

He Ning stared at him for two seconds, remembering what he had just seen, and suddenly spoke, his tone carrying a sharp probe: “Wen Junhe, you weren’t actually straight before, were you?”

He paused: “You liked doing it from behind before because you didn’t want to see my face and body, right?”

The air froze for an instant.

Wen Junhe’s movements stopped. His eyelids lifted, but his voice was calm to the point of being unreadable: “Who told you that?”

“Don’t worry about who told me. Just tell me if it’s true or not.”

Wen Junhe stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed, as if he was angry, or as if he found it absurd. He raised his hand and pinched between his brows. When he spoke again, his voice carried a helpless hoarseness: “He Ning, when you’re pinning crimes on me, can you at least hear my side of the story?”

He Ning’s brow had just furrowed when Wen Junhe was already pressing in, his palm suddenly gripping the back of his head with force strong enough to almost hurt him.

The instant their lips collided, sweet apple juice overflowed in their tangled breath, sliding down the corner of He Ning’s lips. Before that drop of juice could fall to his chin, Wen Junhe had already chased after it, slowly and deliberately licking it clean.

He Ning was kissed until his breath came in disarray, his chest heaving violently. When he looked up, the corners of his eyes still glistened with the moisture of being taken.

Wen Junhe laughed lowly. With one hand he loosened his collar. His voice was hoarse to an extreme degree, carrying an unquestionable sense of pressure, each word landing heavily on He Ning’s eardrums: “I’ll prove to you in a moment just how much I like doing it from behind.”

He Ning himself was very fair, his entire person like a piece of the finest white jade carved out, from his slender neck to his delicate ankles, every line excessively refined. His bone structure was beautifully formed, with a thin back and narrow waist, as if a little force could snap him. Wen Junhe most liked to grip his waist and hips from behind, his thumb pressing against those protruding butterfly bones, and with a slight push could leave red fingerprints.

That position made it even more impossible for He Ning to escape. His pale ankles were held firmly in place, the tops of his feet arched into a fragile curve. His entire person was pinned in place, able only to vainly widen those eyes that were always full of pride, brimming with moisture, the hollow of his lower back gathering fine beads of sweat that shook with broken light as they moved.

He Ning of course didn’t know how beautiful he looked like this. Only Wen Junhe knew.

Long ago, when He Ning was already barely conscious, he was still asking if Wen Junhe felt good.

Every time Wen Junhe thought of how He Ning cared so much for his pleasure, his gaze grew darker and darker.