Chapter 13: Very Beautiful

Song Chengfeng had been starving for quite some time, but since he was at someone else’s home, he didn’t dare to eat too much. He restrained himself to just three bowls of noodles, stopping at a half-full state. Seizing the moment while Yan Zhuo was clearing the dishes, he turned to Qu Yan and asked, “Have you given it some thought?”

He was referring to the proposal from last night. Qu Yan tapped his fingers against his temple twice and said, “I agree.”

So easily agreed? Song Chengfeng raised his eyebrows in surprise, waiting quietly for him to continue.

Qu Yan said nothing, only casting a half-smile his way.

With just that glance, Song Chengfeng understood—Qu Yan had seen through his intentions.

But it was better to lay everything out openly. Song Chengfeng pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose and said, “We’re all businessmen; it’s better to understand each other.”

Qu Yan let out a soft chuckle, as if amused by something, his tone unexpectedly cheerful: “You’re right. If you hold me back on the road, I’ll leave you behind just the same. We’re all businessmen—you can understand that, right?”

“Of course.” Song Chengfeng shrugged. “But until you find a new driver, I’m still useful.”

Qu Yan narrowed his eyes, the smile fading, speaking coolly, “Pleasure doing business.”

“Pleasure doing business.” Song Chengfeng nodded in kind.

Setting aside physical conditions, he was actually very willing to cooperate with Qu Yan. After all, they had known each other for a few years and shared a slight, almost imperceptible tacit understanding. Beyond that, Qu Yan was an extremely rational and intelligent man, capable of decisively eliminating all obstacles—something Song Chengfeng found strikingly similar to himself.

With such an ally, plus Yan Zhuo as a “lethal weapon,” the journey ahead would be considerably easier. Thinking of this, Song Chengfeng relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair, fingers unconsciously tracing the object hanging around his neck.

It was a simple black cord with a silver ring in the center, plain and unremarkable in appearance.

Suddenly, Qu Yan asked, “When did you get married?”

“Not long ago, less than two months. Just registered, no wedding ceremony.” Song Chengfeng’s eyes brightened with sincere warmth. “She’s a wonderful girl—I fell for her at first sight.”

“No need to be so detailed.” Qu Yan said casually.

“I’ll introduce you two someday.” Song Chengfeng didn’t intend to elaborate further. He stood up and smoothed the creases on his sleeves. “If we make it safely to G City.”

“You don’t look worried at all.” Qu Yan’s tone was flat, without curiosity.

“She’s a very, very...” Song Chengfeng paused, thinking for a few seconds before continuing, “...brave girl. She doesn’t need me to worry.”

Though Qu Yan had asked casually, he suddenly found himself interested in this girl. Anyone who could make Song Chengfeng speak like that must be intriguing.

He didn’t dwell on it long before Yan Zhuo, having finished tidying up, inserted himself between the two, blocking Qu Yan’s view. Leaning forward, he asked, “Can you help me find some clothes? Mine are dirty.”

There was a tiny stain on the hem, barely noticeable unless examined closely. Qu Yan didn’t call out the subtle ploy and said, “Back to the bedroom first.”

Seeing the agreement, Yan Zhuo immediately grabbed the wheelchair and, like a gust of wind, whisked Qu Yan away from Song Chengfeng’s side.

***

Only after they left did Song Chengfeng react, realizing that Qu Yan’s little bodyguard seemed to have some issue with him. Everything had seemed normal last night; how had things changed so quickly upon waking? Song Chengfeng couldn’t figure it out.

In the bedroom, in front of the wardrobe, Qu Yan bent down and pulled out a black shirt. “Is it okay if I wear one of mine?”

One of Qu Yan’s shirts... Yan Zhuo’s mood lifted, a sudden urge to wag his tail like a dog surging within him. “Is that okay?”

Qu Yan couldn’t help but smile. “I’m the one asking you. As long as you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind!” Yan Zhuo answered quickly, afraid Qu Yan might change his mind.

Though Yan Zhuo was currently wearing clothes that once belonged to Qu Yan, it was different this time. Rubbing the fine fabric between his fingers, he wondered if wearing Qu Yan’s clothes from ten years in the future might somehow link him to that version of Qu Yan and bridge the ten-year gap between them.

“Won’t you try it on?” Qu Yan’s voice broke through his thoughts. “It might not fit.”

Since his legs were no longer usable, he hadn’t bought clothes for himself and didn’t allow anyone near him. So, the assistant occasionally delivered clothes that didn’t fit well. This one was such a case—Qu Yan had never really worn it, just tried it on once before tossing it back in the wardrobe untouched.

Yan Zhuo appeared youthful and slender, a slim figure typical of a teenager. Only when he took off his clothes could one see he wasn’t thin but well-muscled, the contours defined and striking.

Qu Yan had seen this before; his gaze neither avoided nor shied away. Supporting his chin, he praised, “Very handsome.”

Though Qu Yan did some exercise himself to avoid looking frail, he could never match Yan Zhuo’s level. The most coveted things are often those unattainable, and Qu Yan admired the beautifully sculpted muscles on Yan Zhuo’s body.

Especially the abs.

Receiving praise from Qu Yan was a cause for quiet happiness, yet Yan Zhuo’s ears tinged red. Stiffly, he put on the shirt, fumbling with the buttons for a long time without success.

Suddenly, a sigh of helplessness came from nearby. Sweat beaded at Yan Zhuo’s temple as he heard Qu Yan say, “Come here, I’ll help you button it.”

Only the top two buttons were fastened, the Adam’s apple stuck awkwardly beneath them, making Yan Zhuo feel as if he couldn’t breathe. Through the thin fabric, Qu Yan’s fingers moved gently over him, quickly securing the buttons one by one.

Yan Zhuo averted his eyes and, with one hand, unbuttoned the only two buttons Qu Yan had done.

Qu Yan lifted his gaze to him. Yan Zhuo glanced sideways. “Too hot.”

Qu Yan’s fingers were nimble, soon refastening all except the two Yan Zhuo had undone. “Done.”

He adjusted the collar for Yan Zhuo, who was half-squatting, and said with mild surprise, “Fits better than I expected.”

The shirt hugged his figure perfectly, collar open to reveal a prominent Adam’s apple and a small patch of collarbone. When Qu Yan looked down at him, there was a faintly predatory glint in his eyes, making one instinctively want to retreat.

“Thanks.” Yan Zhuo’s thanks came a moment late, his slightly long hair falling into his eyes. He blinked uncomfortably.

Qu Yan pondered, “Your hair is a bit long. Might be inconvenient on the road. Want me to trim it?”

Meeting Yan Zhuo’s gaze, Qu Yan took a pair of scissors from the drawer at his feet. “You do it yourself.”

***

Though willing to help, Qu Yan was honestly helpless with such delicate tasks.

Yan Zhuo took the scissors into the bathroom, and the bedroom fell completely silent. Qu Yan stared at the wheelchair, eyes closed, either exhausted or lost in thought.

The ticking of the watch filled the quiet, counting countless rotations until Yan Zhuo emerged, scissors in hand.

His bangs were cut into fine wisps, revealing intact eyebrows and eyes. Qu Yan was momentarily stunned before saying, “Not bad. You seem experienced.”

“Mm.” Yan Zhuo responded, squatting in front of Qu Yan and putting the scissors back. “I often cut my own hair.”

Qu Yan recalled the first time he met Yan Zhuo, dressed in an ill-fitting suit that was clearly rented. The boy’s family background seemed poor, and he never once mentioned parents or relatives—there were many secrets hidden beneath.

Secrets are the most tempting to pry into. Qu Yan was eager to explore but kept a calm expression, softly saying, “Then from now on, I’ll leave my haircuts to you.”

Without hair to conceal his flushed ears, Yan Zhuo’s eyes flickered. “Okay.”

He liked those two words—“from now on.”

There was little to pack, especially under the current circumstances. Aside from essentials, everything else was a burden.

Song Chengfeng’s car was in District E, while Qu Yan’s apartment was in District B, with two districts in between. This meant crossing at least ten apartment buildings, increasing the chances of encountering zombies.

To retrieve the car and return safely, Yan Zhuo had to go back with Song Chengfeng, while Qu Yan would stay behind and wait.

Song Chengfeng placed the soundly sleeping little one on the sofa, took a few steps, then stopped and looked at Qu Yan with a question: “Do you think I should throw him back?”

Qu Yan’s attitude was indifferent. “None of my concern.”

He always maintained a nonchalant stance toward things that didn’t bother him.

Song Chengfeng looked troubled but then sighed, “Forget it. After all, this is the first good thing I’ve done in my life.”

The little one in deep sleep blew a bubble, unaware he had just gone through a brush with death.

Having made his decision, Song Chengfeng felt much lighter but couldn’t help teasing Qu Yan, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll steal your little bodyguard and run off?”

Qu Yan raised an eyebrow and glanced behind Song Chengfeng. “You can try.”

Following his gaze, Song Chengfeng saw Yan Zhuo standing silently behind him, his face cold as if he’d just crawled out of a freezer.

He forced a smile. “Just kidding.”

Damn, he almost went too far. Was Qu Yan putting some kind of spell on his bodyguard?