BL Ch147

The banquet was at its peak. Guests were merry, a vintage gramophone played Chairman Luo’s cherished vinyl records, and men and women paired up to dance, some with family and friends, others with lovers.

“Ahem!” Lou Baoguo straightened his bow tie and extended his right hand, mimicking a line he’d heard in a drama. “Miss Lu, may I have this dance?”

Lu Qing, straightforward and not one for pretense, simply thought the qipao was beautiful and it would be a shame not to dance. She placed her hand in his. “Sure, sure, but I don’t know how to dance. Don’t laugh at me.”

Lou Baoguo puffed out his chest, promising confidently, “Don’t worry! I’ll teach you!”

For the next ten minutes, Zhou Yi watched him step on Lu Qing’s feet three times, kick other people five times, and completely fail to keep up with the music.

Lu Qing, dizzy from being spun around, nearly bumped into Yu Jiangyue.

She quickly apologized. Yu Jiangyue, unfazed, offered them a few pointers. After learning them, they danced much more smoothly, avoiding collisions.

Seeing this, Zhou Yi finally left the dance floor, relieved, and went to the bar, ordering a juice.

The bartender, seeing his scarred face and intimidating demeanor, thought he should order vodka and made the suggestion.

Zhou Yi waved him off. “Someone needs to stay sober, someone who hasn’t lost their mind to love. That’s me.”

The bartender watched as the man pulled out a well-worn photo from his pocket – a happy family of three.

“Love, it always makes you dizzy, sometimes ecstatic, sometimes heartbroken… but no matter what, a happy ending for lovers is always a beautiful thing, don’t you think?”

The bartender looked at him with a confused expression.

Zhou Yi chuckled. “Never mind, never mind. You’ll understand when you experience it yourself!”

Most of the guests were on the dance floor. The deserted terrace was relatively quiet, but Ji Lin, wrapped in the jacket, felt warm.

Chairman Luo’s birthday cake was eight layers tall, and everyone present received a slice, including them.

Ji Lin didn’t usually eat sweets, constantly lecturing his team members that sugar would ruin their figures, accelerate aging, and slow down their reflexes. Desserts were just superficial, essentially an evil consumerist scam.

But now, he was devouring his slice.

Because it meant he didn’t have to talk. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

Mu Hao stood beside him, leaning against the railing, eating his cake calmly, seemingly unbothered by the prolonged silence. Well, Mu Hao was always a man of few words, more prone to thinking than talking.

As his cake disappeared, Ji Lin grew increasingly anxious.

He had just confessed, and Mu Hao had said he would try to like him. But what did “try” mean? How long would it take? What would be the outcome? He had no idea.

Thinking about it, Mu Hao’s promise was like Yu Duqiu’s Themis project – it existed, but there was no guarantee of success or a timeline for its realization.

Simply put, it was a pie in the sky.

No, no! Ji Lin immediately refuted himself. How could he compare Brother Mu to that guy? It was an insult to Brother Mu!

But… Brother Mu and that guy were friends. Perhaps Yu Duqiu had given him advice?

Ji Lin’s thoughts raced. He had one last bite of cake left but no appetite, just wanting to go home and escape this awkward atmosphere.

But reality wouldn’t allow it. He was on duty, responsible for Yu Duqiu’s safety. Speaking of which, where had that guy disappeared to all this time…

“Can’t eat anymore?” Mu Hao asked casually, seeing him staring blankly.

Ji Lin jolted, dropping his spoon.

“…”

“I’ll get another spoon…”

“It’s fine! Just one bite left! I’ll just…” Ji Lin opened his mouth, about to eat the last bit of cake directly from the plate, but then thought it was too unrefined, like a starving ghost. Would Mu Hao laugh at him?

He glanced over and saw Mu Hao frowning slightly. “Xiao Ji…”

“Ah, sorry, I’ll still get a…”

“I know you’re frugal, but there’s no need to be this frugal.” Mu Hao took his plate, flipped his own spoon, scooped up the last bit of cake with the handle, and offered it to him. “Is this better? Eat.”

Ji Lin felt he had spaced out more tonight than in his entire 28 years of life.

“Th-This is embarrassing…”

“What’s embarrassing about it?”

“Uh… you feeding me, isn’t it too intimate…”

“But when I was sick, you not only fed me but also helped me clean myself.” Mu Hao asked, puzzled. “What’s so significant about feeding you a bite of cake?”

…So it was out of gratitude!

Ji Lin chuckled wryly at his own assumptions. The pressure eased slightly. “Okay, thank you, Brother Mu.”

The flat handle of the spoon wasn’t as stable as the bowl. As Ji Lin leaned forward to eat, Mu Hao’s hand twitched, and the cake fell.

Mu Hao instinctively caught it with his other hand, and Ji Lin, deeply ingrained with the “don’t waste food” mentality, instinctively leaned down and ate it.

His lips brushed against Mu Hao’s palm, a slight tingle like static electricity in winter. Mu Hao quickly pulled his hand back.

Ji Lin, realizing how inappropriate his action was, cream still on his lips, bowed deeply and yelled, “Sorry!”

His loud voice and exaggerated posture, his flustered demeanor, resembled a soldier being scolded by an instructor, forced to apologize loudly in front of everyone.

Mu Hao was momentarily stunned, about to say it’s okay, I don’t mind, when Ji Lin, unable to face him, turned and fled in embarrassment.

He was still wearing Mu Hao’s jacket.

“…”

A cool breeze swept across the terrace. Mu Hao, thinly dressed, rubbed his arms, silent.

A trace of cream remained on his palm. The electric sensation lingered, spreading from his hand to his heart.

It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling.

He was always curious about the unknown, always wanting to understand. But he also knew his knowledge was limited, often requiring him to consult a certain erudite, albeit common-sense-lacking, friend.

But Yu Duqiu might be occupied tonight, and he himself had many questions that needed answers. He wondered if Yu Duqiu had found what he was looking for.

Oh well, he could ask tomorrow.

Not wanting to catch a cold, Mu Hao turned towards the glass door. As he reached for the handle, he remembered the cream on his hand.

He stared at his palm for a moment, then, on a whim, lifted his hand and licked the remaining cream.

Strange… why was it sweeter than the cream on his cake?