One by one the covers were lifted from the dishes. The exquisite aromas rose and mingled with the warm summer air, hitting Ling Yun's senses like a wave and making his mouth water. He was about to drive his fork into a piece of tender beef when the butler set a small bowl of golden soup directly in front of him.
"Sweetheart — drink this first."
Jiang Xiuqing had already tested the soup temperature and found it right before sliding the bowl toward Ling Yun again.
Ling Yun: He wanted the BEEF. He was growing. He needed PROTEIN.
"The soup has meat in it." Jiang Xiuqing read the protest in Ling Yun's eyes clearly, ladled a spoonful, and smiled with perfect warmth and perfect immovability. Faced with those irresistible eyes, Ling Yun had no defenses left. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth.
The soup was genuinely outstanding. Rich and deeply fragrant.
The broth had been simmered from a mature, well-fed hen, the fat skimmed entirely, leaving that golden, amber color. But Ling Yun only accepted the one spoonful Jiang Xiuqing had essentially strong-armed into him before picking up his fork again.
"Good — just one more sip — one more, and then you eat the meat." Another spoonful was extended to Ling Yun's lips. Jiang Xiuqing at this moment bore an uncanny resemblance to the Big Bad Wolf coaxing Little Red Riding Hood — every bit of fondness in his eyes, every bit of guile in his method.
"Xiuqing-gege — you said."
Grumbling, Ling Yun put the fork down, pushed aside the offered spoon, took the small bowl in both hands, and drank it in one go. Being fed spoonful by spoonful was worse than just finishing it. And truth be told, Ling Yun didn't actually dislike the soup — he just preferred eating meat first, soup after. It was Jiang Xiuqing who insisted on soup before eating. Wellness, he called it.
"Done."
That said, Ling Yun glanced at the sediment at the bottom of the bowl, and without further comment, speared it with his fork and chewed.
Fan Zhengqing nearly fell out of his chair.
The thing Ling Yun had just put in his mouth was white truffle, wasn't it? White truffle. And that piece? That was enormous. The more sizable the white truffle, the more valuable it was.
Fan Zhengqing's mind ran a rapid calculation of the chunk currently being chewed by Ling Yun. When the number emerged, he inhaled sharply and looked at Jiang Xiuqing.
"Ling Yun likes them braised into the chicken broth. Makes everything more fragrant." Having accepted — with the grace of someone with absolutely no objections — the returned spoonful he'd been unable to get through, Jiang Xiuqing set it down and explained calmly. So what if it was white truffle? As long as Ling Yun enjoyed it, Jiang Xiuqing had people gathering and preserving white truffle from the Alba region of northern Italy every year — precisely so he could have it shipped to the capital the moment Ling Yun wanted any.
"The Fourth Master's commitment level is something else." Fan Zhengqing murmured under his breath, watching the chef now preparing a slice of truffle on handmade bread.
Cultured European butter mixed with mascarpone and cream cheese, baked onto handmade bread, then layered with whisper-thin slices of white truffle. One bite —
And the perfect combination of texture and flavor swept through the mouth. A transcendent experience for the palate.
"Xiuqing-gege — try this! It's incredible." While Jiang Xiuqing and Fan Zhengqing were exchanging a few quiet words, Ling Yun forked up a combination of beef and white truffle and lifted it to Jiang Xiuqing's lips with joy-filled eyes.
Jiang Xiuqing barely let Ling Yun finish speaking before he opened his mouth to take the bite.
The tender beef, carrying the truffle's deep savoriness, was irresistible.
"Good, isn't it." Watching Jiang Xiuqing's eyes ease into a satisfied half-close, Ling Yun's smile went brighter — and just as he was about to pull the fork back —
He found it was still being held. Between Jiang Xiuqing's teeth.
Ling Yun: What is Xiuqing-gege doing? There are PEOPLE HERE.
He snapped his gaze sideways — and found no one. The moment Jiang Xiuqing bit down on the fork, Fan Zhengqing had, with impeccable instinct, picked up his plate and followed the butler and staff a tactful distance away.
Eating next to these two was genuinely incompatible with getting a proper meal. Better to go eat with the butler.
Ling Yun's round cat-eyes swept the area. Nobody in sight. He turned back to Jiang Xiuqing and ground his teeth. "Xiuqing-gege — we're having dinner. Can you not do this? Please?" He said this knowing perfectly well that he'd done the exact same thing to Jiang Xiuqing — bitten chopsticks and forks out of his hands — countless times over the years. It was just now that it was his turn to be bitten, and he couldn't take it.
Jiang Xiuqing said nothing. He simply held the fork, and his eyes — deep and dark and unreadable — held Ling Yun.
His gaze drifted over Jiang Xiuqing's slightly thin lips. His face got warm.
"Xiuqing-gege!" Something close to fluster edged into Ling Yun's voice.
Jiang Xiuqing hadn't been intending anything complicated — but noticing the evasion in Ling Yun's eyes and the unsteadiness in his voice, he found himself reading much more into it. He released the fork with a deliberate smile. "What is it, sweetheart? You used to do this all the time when we ate together."
Teasing. Testing.
Ling Yun: Times change!
Eyes darting, sensing a possibility, Jiang Xiuqing didn't wait for Ling Yun to respond. He very naturally picked up his chopsticks and added food to Ling Yun's plate, saying casually: "Alright — no games. Let's eat properly." And as he said it, his knuckle brushed across the back of Ling Yun's hand where it rested on the table.
Contact. Instant.
He felt Ling Yun's hand give a very slight tremor.
Why?
Ling Yun had never, not once, flinched from any physical contact with him. But just now — a reflexive withdrawal. He considered the possibility. Jiang Xiuqing felt something he hadn't expected in the vicinity of his chest that he could only describe as the early signs of a hurricane.
Along with it — a wild, barely-contained surge of joy.
"Xiu… Xiuqing-gege — I'm full. Enjoy yours." Having been grazed by Jiang Xiuqing's knuckle, Ling Yun's hand burned. He dropped his cutlery, pulse racing, and made to flee the scene on the grounds that he'd finished eating.
He was scared.
Mostly because he had detected something dangerous radiating from the current version of Jiang Xiuqing. Extremely dangerous.
"Sweetheart — what's wrong?" Of course Ling Yun's emotional state didn't escape Jiang Xiuqing. The moment Ling Yun stood up in flustered haste, he reached out and caught his arm, pulling him — completely off guard — directly into his arms.
Ling Yun fell into the embrace. Jiang Xiuqing's faint, cool scent hit him all at once. His face went instantly, blazingly red.
"Xiuqing-gege — let me go." The person claiming to be unaffected immediately began squirming and struggling from within the embrace — and the harder he struggled, the tighter the arms around him pulled. For all that Jiang Xiuqing was only seven or eight centimeters taller, the grip of those hands was absolutely unyielding.
Having effectively locked Ling Yun in place, Jiang Xiuqing's eyes sparkled with growing warmth. "Sweetheart — what is it? Can't even let me hold you now?" He bent his head and rested his chin on Ling Yun's crown, voice dropping to something warm and slightly muffled. "You've been climbing on top of me your entire life. Now I hold you once and you're dissatisfied? Tell me — have you grown too proud for this? Are you planning to leave me?"
That was too large a crime to accept. Ling Yun threw it back immediately: "No. Xiuqing-gege — I never have. Not once."
"Really — you've never thought about leaving me?" The instinctive reply was everything Jiang Xiuqing had hoped for. Satisfaction radiated from his eyes.
"Of course it's the truth — when have I ever lied to you." Face crumpled with indignation, Ling Yun gave up struggling, put his face down into Jiang Xiuqing's chest, and accepted defeat. If he couldn't get free, it was better to stop expending the energy.
Seeing Ling Yun resign himself, Jiang Xiuqing eased the hold instead of tightening it — drawing Ling Yun up and looking directly into his eyes. "Ling Yun — you aren't a Jiang now. Have you thought about leaving me?" His voice was very tight when he asked this. The arms holding Ling Yun were tight too.
Looking at Jiang Xiuqing's face, Ling Yun went blank for a second. Then his expression turned fierce. "Xiuqing-gege — what do you mean? Are you trying to drive me away?"
Jiang Xiuqing, who had been worried all along that Ling Yun was going to fly away:… …
"Xiuqing-gege — are you saying that without the Jiang name I have no right to stay here? Are you saying you don't want me anymore?" Having completely misread the intention, Ling Yun was glaring, face going more and more menacing by the second, eyes reddening — with the energy of someone who would bite if Jiang Xiuqing dared say a single word that confirmed the fear.
"Hahaha — sweetheart — how could I possibly drive you away? I want you here forever. I want you beside me for the rest of our lives." Watching every single emotion play out on Ling Yun's face in perfect legibility, Jiang Xiuqing burst out laughing — laughing until his eyes curved. He had been entirely wrong to doubt his little sweetheart's feelings.
The child hadn't figured things out yet — but the dependence was bone-deep.
"Laugh P!" This being the first time Ling Yun had ever seen Jiang Xiuqing lose himself so completely in laughter, he went red with embarrassment and yanked on both of Jiang Xiuqing's ears with both hands, adding biting on top, because it was simply his body's default. It was natural reflex.
The moment his mouth was on Jiang Xiuqing's face, Ling Yun caught himself.
But he'd already started. Stopping now would be more telling, not less.
Fine. Keep going.
Eyes shut, Ling Yun went after every inch of Jiang Xiuqing's face — and managed, just barely, to spare the lips. Those — he genuinely didn't dare.
Having no apparent concern for the state of his face, Jiang Xiuqing waited until Ling Yun seemed finished, then patted him matter-of-factly on the behind and delivered his verdict in a severe tone: "No swearing in the future."
"I was wrong, Xiuqing-gege." Post-mauling, Ling Yun behaved himself and apologized. Though internally: this applied only to in front of Jiang Xiuqing. Everywhere else — situational judgment applied.
"Happy now?" Jiang Xiuqing made a point of tilting his face in front of Ling Yun's line of sight.
"Wh — who did that — wipe it off, it's disgusting!" Taking one look at the faint, shallow bite impressions all over Jiang Xiuqing's face, Ling Yun whipped his head away, deeply embarrassed. He was grown. He'd just gone and bit Jiang Xiuqing all over his face like a child.
Jiang Xiuqing's tone was warm and amused. "A puppy did it."
"Who are you calling a dog?!" Ling Yun whipped back around, furious.
"Me. I called myself a dog." The highest art of indulging someone was making the other person always right — even when they were wrong. Looking at those bright, lively eyes, Jiang Xiuqing had no principles whatsoever.
"Ahem." The head butler, who had walked back at exactly the wrong moment, convulsed into a loud, pointed cough.
"Steward Xian." Ling Yun heard the sound and immediately gave Jiang Xiuqing's arm a discreet tap.
Playing was playing — but maintaining some dignity in front of people still applied.
Reading Ling Yun's discomfort, Jiang Xiuqing obligingly released him.
"Xiuqing — Ling Yun — the food has gone cold. Shall I have the kitchen prepare fresh?" The butler genuinely hadn't come to interrupt them.
"Ling Yun." Jiang Xiuqing glanced at him — he himself had eaten enough. It depended on whether Ling Yun had or hadn't.
Ling Yun pressed his stomach and smiled at the butler. "Steward Xian — I'm full too."
With both men done eating, the butler smiled and took his leave.
Ling Yun snuck a glance at Jiang Xiuqing, then wiped the most polite evidence of the mauling from his face with a warm cloth — and as he turned over in his mind how to bring up sleeping in separate rooms tonight, his phone rang. Gu Junbao on screen. Ling Yun raised an eyebrow and picked it up.
"Ling Yun — get over here now. We beat up Yang Qing!"
The call had barely connected before Gu Junbao's voice blasted straight through Ling Yun's ear. He moved the phone away, shook his head, and stared: "You beat who?"
"Yang Qing! Jiang Jingcheng's actual brother. The scheming idiot who stirred up trouble between you and the Jiangs."
Ling Yun: How many beatings did Yang Qing need in one day? First him, now Gu Junbao? "Xiuqing-gege?" In a situation like this, he couldn't exactly not go and see what was happening.
"Go. Take Luo Hu's team." Gu Junbao's voice had been loud enough to carry. Jiang Xiuqing had heard it all.
"Xiuqing-gege — I'm going."
A few steps away, Ling Yun turned back to look at Jiang Xiuqing sitting there with an expression of perfect warmth — hesitated, then turned back, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and actually left this time.
Watching Ling Yun's retreating figure, Jiang Xiuqing gave a quiet wave of his hand. "Look into it."
"Yes, Fourth Master." Fan Zhengqing's voice arrived on cue and vanished. The courtyard returned to stillness.
