Isn't This a Contract Marriage? Why Are You Sneaking Kisses! - Chapter 15

On the drive back, the cold was sealed away behind the car windows. The interior temperature was warm and comfortable, and the edge of the sky had already been shrouded by the curtain of night.

The car’s aromatherapy emitted a faint scent of cedarwood, which, mixed with the sandalwood lingering on the man beside him, made one feel drowsy.

He had drunk quite a bit during the first half of the banquet and consumed some carbohydrates during the second half. Now, alternating between hot and cold and experiencing a “carb coma,” an uncontrollable drowsiness suddenly surged forth.

Shen Silie’s eyelids drooped, his head nodding periodically. He was on the verge of drifting into a dream.

“Sleep for a while,” Shang Jichen suddenly spoke. “I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

Shen Silie snapped awake for a moment, but after hesitating and glancing at the forty-minute drive remaining, he finally succumbed to the torture of exhaustion and nodded. “Sorry for the trouble.”

Shang Jichen shook his head. “It’s no trouble.”

Hearing this, Shen Silie leaned back and closed his eyes with a clear conscience.

The warm air from the vents carried the woody fragrance around his nose. The wheels rolling over the water-logged road sounded like a feather lightly brushing against his ear.

Shen Silie’s breathing gradually became long and steady. His body swayed slightly with the bumps of the car; he felt both light and heavy, his eyelids weighed a ton, and his consciousness slowly descended.

A strange emotion submerged him. His heart flared with a dense, fine pain that intensified bit by bit until he could barely breathe.

His consciousness continued to fall, plunging into water.

The sound of crying reached his ears. It wasn’t loud—it could only be described as sobbing—yet it was wrapped in a heavy agony, a sadness pushed to the extreme.

It was the kind of sound that made one want to burst into tears just by hearing it.

Hot, wet droplets splashed onto him, winding down from his brow to his eyelids, his neck, his wrists, and finally landing on his lips.

It tasted like rusty seawater. So bitter.

Was the window open? Shen Silie furrowed his brows, his eyelids trembling twice, but he didn’t open them.

Amidst the sound of rain, someone was sighing—mercifully and gently.

A pair of hands tenderly cradled his head. Shen Silie relaxed his body completely, sinking into the deepest part of the dream.

The windshield wipers swung across the glass. The hazy glow of the streetlights filtered through to rest on his eyelids.

Shen Silie’s eyelids fluttered twice, and he slowly opened them.

His consciousness was foggy, his brain still processing information.

“We’re home.” The gentle male voice was as tender as if it had been soaked in honey.

Shen Silie instinctively looked up, meeting Shang Jichen’s downward gaze. The warm yellow streetlights reflected in the man’s eyes like dark green ripples on a bottomless pool of water.

Shen Silie snapped fully awake. He realized there was a coat draped over him.

He hurriedly sat up straight, but froze the moment he spotted a large, dark wet patch on the coat.

I drooled??!!!

A familiar sense of suffocation surged within him.

“I’m so sorry.” Shen Silie looked devastated, grabbing the garment to inspect it. “I slept too soundly and got drool on it. I’ll buy you a replacement.”

Shang Jichen followed his gaze downward. Upon seeing what it was, he paused for a beat.

Shen Silie wanted to cover his face in embarrassment.

“You were having a nightmare.”

Shen Silie froze.

Shang Jichen simply looked at him, the emotions in his eyes obscure. His slow tone sounded like a soft sigh: “You shed a lot of tears.”

Shen Silie belatedly reached for the corner of his eye. It was wet.

Shang Jichen acted as if nothing had happened, smoothing out his wrinkled cuffs before taking out his phone.

Shen Silie looked at the “Add Friend” QR code presented to him.

“Encountering each other is fate, let alone three times.” Shang Jichen’s expression was gentle. “Let’s get to know each other.”

Shen Silie hesitated for two seconds before pulling out his phone and scanning the code.

Looking at the new contact with the moon profile picture, he filled in the nickname. Finally, he offered a few polite pleasantries and stood up to leave the car.

Suddenly, his wrist was caught from behind. His body instinctively leaned back, only to be steadied firmly. Warm breath and the scent of sandalwood brushed against the side of his neck.

Shen Silie couldn’t help but shiver. He looked up and back; Shang Jichen was leaning over with a calm expression, helping him put his coat on properly.

“It’s cold when it rains. Don’t let the night wind blow on you.”

With that, Shang Jichen picked up an umbrella and pressed the handle into the youth’s palm.

Outside the window, the rain was relentless. Shen Silie’s figure disappeared into the curtain of rain.

Shang Jichen leaned back against the seat and withdrew his gaze. He opened the cigarette case at his side, and the ghostly blue flame of the lighter flickered to life.

The first accident was just a coincidence. The second encounter could be considered fate. The third…

He rarely took notice of anyone, let alone actively approached them. Since destiny had willed it, he was willing to accept this invitation.

His tongue unconsciously brushed against the inside of his mouth. Sharp canines scraped against the flesh, causing a fine, stinging pain.

Having inherited his mother’s genes, the canines on both sides of his mouth were naturally slightly longer than average. It wasn’t noticeable during normal conversation, but it became strikingly obvious when he moved closer or laughed.

In his youth, before he learned restraint, he was raised in the family circle. Because of the people he offended and his mother’s bloodline, he had been called a “Grey Wolf from North America”—someone who used any means to achieve his ends, possessing none of the Eastern sense of propriety or shame. They even said his teeth hadn’t yet shed their beastly nature.

Later, he finally learned the meaning of the word “gentle.” As he gained more power and status, and stopped dueling people so openly, they found they could no longer do anything to him. No one dared to disparage his mother, his family, or his teeth to his face anymore.

So much time had passed. Some had forgotten; some remembered.

He didn’t care much for the voices behind his back. He only remembered the way those fellows eventually looked at him with pleading eyes.

Shang Jichen couldn’t help but let out a short laugh.

Uncle Fang was right. He should try socializing. Trying to become friends with an interesting person might be a good change of pace.

Milky white smoke swirled around his fingertips.

“Back to the New District.”

The rain grew heavier. The willow trees by the street rustled in the wind, and raindrops gathered at the edge of the umbrella, forming lines that pattered against the ground.

Shen Silie stepped through the reflection of the swaying streetlights in the puddles. The hem of the coat nearly reached his calves, and the sleeves were a bit long.

He stared down at the road, the scent of sandalwood emanating from the fabric, wrapping around him persistently. A biological sense of alertness—the kind produced when being watched by a large predator—belatedly surged up. The umbrella tilted suddenly, and a drop of rain slid down the edge into his collar.

Shen Silie shivered slightly and quickened his pace. His heartbeat was clearer than the sound of the rain.

The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell turned on. The old-fashioned apartment building had no elevator, maintaining a layout of two units per floor.

Shen Silie closed his umbrella and climbed the stairs step by step. The strange emotions gradually vanished as he ascended.

Until he saw the familiar figure huddled in the corner by his door.

He stopped at the third-floor landing. His gaze shifted upward.

“Why are you here?”

Shen Silie heard his own voice, raspy and dry.

The person in the corner looked up. The floor was littered with cigarette butts, and half a lit cigarette was still held between his fingers, the crimson spark flickering in the darkness.

The hem of his trench coat was soaked with damp stains, and rain dripped from his hair onto his jaw. On that face that was usually full of arrogance, there was now only fatigue and unease.

He looked straight into the youth’s calm gaze.

As if burned by something, Ji Yunshen instinctively drew his hand back.