Chapter 10: Trust Me

The living room was silent, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, until the stillness was finally broken by the sound of crying.

A child’s cry.

The little one on the sofa stirred from sleep, his eyes rolling twice before his lips puckered and tears the size of beans rolled down his cheeks.

His chubby fists waved about with the sobs. Qu Yan glanced at Song Chengfeng, his voice laced with faint sarcasm. “Is this what you call not crying or fussing, and being very cute?”

Song Chengfeng shrugged helplessly, feigning innocence. “Mr. Qu, you’ve never raised a child, so you probably don’t know. Kids have two faces. See? This is the other one.”

Qu Yan’s expression darkened. “My ignorance clearly can’t compare to Lawyer Song’s. So now, please leave my apartment.”

The tone was not angry words spoken in the heat of the moment. Song Chengfeng fully believed Qu Yan was the type who would watch death happen without lifting a finger. Thinking of the ugly, shambling zombies lurking outside, he swallowed hard, his earlier bravado faltering. “I’ll soothe him to sleep immediately, right away.”

As soon as he spoke, perhaps from exhaustion or sensing the forbidding atmosphere, the child actually stopped crying, closed his eyes, and let out a faint snore.

Song Chengfeng visibly relaxed.

Qu Yan paid him no mind, spinning his wheelchair with his right hand and calling to a still gloomy figure nearby, “Yan Zhuo, push me back to the bedroom.”

The person called shot up, eyes wide with disbelief, then eagerly gripped the wheelchair’s handles. “Alright.”

Once their figures disappeared, Song Chengfeng collapsed onto the sofa in exhaustion. The muscles at the base of his thighs cramped, and he rubbed them with his palms, murmuring softly, “Yan Zhuo? That name sounds familiar…”

“What are you thinking about?”

Closing the door behind him, Qu Yan looked up at Yan Zhuo.

Yan Zhuo’s back was pressed against the door. Qu Yan had changed a great deal; ten years had passed, and the softness once found in this person was gone. He had become sharp and profound, like a dense, night-black sea, impossible to fathom.

Yet at this moment, when Yan Zhuo looked up at him, his heart uncontrollably quickened. Yan Zhuo crouched down, easing Qu Yan’s gaze. “He was right.”

He uttered the cryptic words and relaxed his furrowed brow.

Unexpectedly, Qu Yan understood and toyed with the gauze on his fingers, feigning ignorance. “What?”

“Rabies vaccine.” Yan Zhuo’s voice grew quieter, unable to see the mischievous glint in Qu Yan’s eyes. “You should get a rabies shot.”

There was no reply. Yan Zhuo received no answer, but suddenly, the baseball cap atop his head was lifted, exposing wolf ears trembling in the air before being caught.

Qu Yan fiddled with a toy, his tone casual. “Don’t listen to him.”

The fingers moving along the ears were cool to the touch. Yan Zhuo’s nerves dulled somewhat and he asked after hearing this, “…Listen to whom?”

Qu Yan paused, his movements growing lighter. “Listen to me.”

“And the rabies vaccine…”

Qu Yan smiled. “No need to get it. Understand?” After all, more than 48 hours had passed; even if he got the shot now, it would be useless. He didn’t care much.

“Understood.” Yan Zhuo nodded, his body instinctively assuming a wolf’s posture, his chin resting on Qu Yan’s leg. He closed his eyes comfortably and repeated, “Listen to Qu Yan.”

“Defendant in a previous case?” On the sofa, Song Chengfeng propped his arms behind his head, frowning thoughtfully as he muttered to himself. “No… could it be a client? Why can’t I remember…”

The baby on the side whimpered twice, pulling Song Chengfeng back from his wandering thoughts. He glanced at the darkening sky outside, then lowered his voice as if negotiating. “I know you’re hungry, but I don’t look like I can produce milk. How about you try to hold on through the night, and tomorrow I’ll go to the city to find you something to eat?”

The round, chubby baby blinked, puffing out his cheeks.

The quiet was broken by the sound of a door closing. Song Chengfeng raised a finger to his lips and whispered, “Maybe you’ll have something to eat soon.”

A slender youth stepped out from the shadows, his features gradually becoming clear. He still wore the baseball cap, expressionless, exactly as before he entered the bedroom.

Song Chengfeng shrugged slightly and was the first to speak. “Where’s Qu Yan?” He only called Qu Yan “Mr. Qu” when mocking him.

“Asleep.” The answer was cold and indifferent.

Song Chengfeng had dealt with countless difficult clients; he didn’t care about Yan Zhuo’s attitude and continued in a good-natured tone, “I haven’t properly thanked you yet. If it weren’t for you this morning, I wouldn’t have had a chance to catch my breath.”

“No need.” Yan Zhuo flipped through a candle on the dining table without looking up. “If the noise is too loud, it’ll attract more zombies.”

Song Chengfeng: “...Anyway, thanks.”

He stepped forward and got straight to the point. “Is there anything to eat?”

As a high-ranking elite and a top figure in the legal world, he hadn’t spoken with this tone to anyone for a long time, especially not to a much younger boy. He felt slightly awkward. “It’s not me, the little one is hungry. I went out this morning to find food, but as you saw, I found nothing and nearly lost my life.”

Yan Zhuo’s dark eyes deepened; Song Chengfeng almost expected a refusal.

“There’s only porridge.”

Song Chengfeng paused, then hurried, “Porridge is fine!”

Better than nothing at all.

Yan Zhuo took the candle and returned to the bedroom. Qu Yan was still asleep; strands of hair at his temple, static-charged from the pillow, hung limply against his face.

Yan Zhuo breathed lightly and crouched by the bed, staring silently at Qu Yan. He tried several times to reach out and smooth the messy hair but restrained himself each time.

After an unknown length of time, his hand holding the candle grew sweaty. He rose and headed to the bathroom.

His waistband was loose, and his wolf tail slipped out easily. Yan Zhuo thoroughly cleaned it, washing it twice with shower gel before stopping. His clothes inevitably got wet, clinging damply to his body. He brushed the hair from his face, revealing sharp, clear features in an instant.

He stared into the mirror for a few seconds before letting his hair fall back over his eyes.

Holding the damp tail, Yan Zhuo pushed open the bathroom door with his other hand, took a few steps, and saw Qu Yan sitting on the bed, turning his head toward him.

“You took a shower?” The light was dim as Qu Yan lit the candle on the nightstand, clearly seeing Yan Zhuo’s appearance. “Only washed your tail?”

Droplets dripped from Yan Zhuo’s chin; he wiped them away with his fingertip and walked closer. “The tail was dirty.”

Qu Yan pulled back the blanket and shifted to the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you dry it properly? There’s a towel in the bathroom.”

Thinking of the row of white towels on the shelf, Yan Zhuo shook his head. “It will dry soon.”

“Get one out, I’ll help you dry it.”

Yan Zhuo stopped, lips pressed lightly together, then turned back to the bathroom without hesitation.

He soon brought out a white towel, dry and soft. Qu Yan took it, lightly shaking it in his hands. “What are you standing there for? Turn around.”

A wet wolf tail was a bit unsightly. Qu Yan smoothed the fur while blotting the water with the towel, sometimes stroking it from the base down, or folding the towel between both hands to rub the tail. In no time, the tail was half dry, regaining some of its former fluffiness.

Yan Zhuo’s Adam’s apple tensed, veins throbbed at his temples. He stared in one direction, eyes unmoving. He regretted it; his body likely betrayed him with longing before Qu Yan.

But he couldn’t help it—his body craved this person’s touch.

His heart swung between soaring heights and deep abysses. In a daze, he heard the person behind him say, “Yan Zhuo, you’ll sleep with me tonight.”

The wolf ears atop his head suddenly perked up. Qu Yan saw them and, his tone unchanged, said calmly, “The other rooms aren’t prepared. You sleep with me, and you can give the room to Song Chengfeng.”

He said leisurely, “Or, I could sleep with Song Chengfeng…”

“No!” Yan Zhuo spun around sharply, the words escaping impulsively. Then he realized and carefully added, “He has to take care of the child; it wouldn’t be convenient.”

The reason sounded plausible. Qu Yan pretended to consider for a few seconds, then nodded. “Hmm, you’re right.”

Yan Zhuo breathed a sigh of relief and quickly changed the subject. “The candle burns fast; I’ll get another one.”

Qu Yan nodded, then yawned. Perhaps due to recent tension, he hadn’t slept well at night and was often drowsy during the day.

“I’ll sleep a little longer. Song Chengfeng is up to you.” Saying this, he pulled the blanket over himself completely, even tucking his head inside.

This was his sleeping habit, which Yan Zhuo had just seen—seeking security by wrapping himself entirely and only revealing his head once deeply asleep.

When the breathing in the bedroom grew steady, Yan Zhuo recalled the indifferent tone Qu Yan used when mentioning Song Chengfeng. He tugged at the corner of his mouth, feeling a bit happy.

Author’s note: Good morning!!!!