WIL CH 17

Chapter 17: The Frightened Little Rabbit

After washing up, Lin Xi remembered that it had been a long time since he last updated his comic. When he opened his social media account, the messages urging him to post were already too many to count.

“Xibing, have you retired? It’s been a month without any updates!”
“Xibing-dada, where’s my bedtime story?”
“……”

“Little Xibing^[1]” was the ID Lin Xi had chosen for himself. Some of his readers affectionately called him “Xibing-dada.” When he had first created the account, there were only a few dozen followers, but over time, it had grown to more than five thousand. Although not a large number, every single one of them genuinely followed and cared about his comics.

It was just past nine o’clock. Lin Xi decided that he would update a short comic tonight. Most of his stories were spontaneous—either drawn on a whim or when inspiration struck.

Inside the gaming room, Lin Xi held a pen and rested his chin on one hand, thinking about what to draw next.

For some reason, a bowl of tomato and egg noodles appeared in his mind—the one Wen Feng had made for him.

The stylus glided smoothly across the tablet, and delicate, soft lines began to take shape on the screen.

The gaming room was designed for comfort, with a thick carpet covering the floor. A large monitor was connected to a smaller one. Lin Xi sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the sofa. His freshly washed hair was still slightly damp, with soft strands falling naturally over his forehead, partly covering his eyes. He pushed his bangs aside, but before long, they fell back down again. Finally, he used a small elastic band that came as a freebie with something he’d bought and tied up his bangs into a tiny tuft, revealing a smooth forehead and thick, well-shaped brows.

Lin Xi took after Li Jingshu—he had thick hair, and his eyebrows and eyelashes were also dense and dark. His long, delicate lashes made his large eyes look almost feminine. With his small tufted bangs tied up, he looked even more gentle and refined.

Completely absorbed in sketching his cartoon characters, Lin Xi was surrounded by the soft blue light of the room. He looked quiet, focused, and serene.

So much so that he didn’t even notice when Wen Feng entered the room.

A deep, magnetic voice suddenly came from behind him.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Startled, Lin Xi’s hand trembled, and his stylus slipped to the floor. He hurriedly turned off the display and spun around in a panic.

“You’re back.”

“Mm.”

Wen Feng’s calm gaze swept over the now-black screen before landing on Lin Xi’s face. When he saw the small tuft of tied-up hair on top of Lin Xi’s head, he was momentarily stunned.

Recently, Wen Feng had been coming home every night, something Lin Xi was still not quite used to. He had been so focused just now that he hadn’t even heard the door open. Hopefully, Wen Feng hadn’t seen the contents of his comic. The display had only shown a small portion of the drawing—surely Wen Feng wouldn’t be able to tell what it was about. Lin Xi nervously tugged at the sleeve of his pajamas, trying to reassure himself.

Wen Feng walked around the sofa and bent down to pick up the stylus that had fallen to the floor. His long fingers wrapped around the white pen body, and he straightened up, placing it on the table in front of Lin Xi.

“What were you drawing just now? Am I not allowed to see it?”

Lin Xi avoided his eyes.

“Just some random doodling… to pass the time.”

Wen Feng reached out and lightly flicked the little tuft of tied-up hair on Lin Xi’s head.

“It’s almost eleven. What kind of time-passing are you doing instead of sleeping?”

He had been so focused on worrying that Wen Feng might’ve seen his drawings that he completely forgot about the thing still sitting on his head. No wonder Wen Feng had looked at him so strangely. He raised a hand to remove it, but Wen Feng caught his wrist, stopping his movement.

“Why take it off?”

“My hair’s gotten longer, and it keeps falling into my eyes, so I just tied it up like this.”

Lin Xi felt utterly embarrassed; his face flushed red with shyness.

Wen Feng had just gotten home. He was still in his suit, and the chain on his tie shimmered faintly under the blue light. The metal links swayed as he leaned closer, his breath warm against Lin Xi’s face. Wen Feng gazed intently at the little “rabbit” before him.

“It suits you.”

Lin Xi’s face grew even redder. What did Wen Feng mean by that—did he think tying up his hair suited him? He only did it for convenience.

“Doesn’t it look strange?”

“Not at all.”

Wen Feng’s hands came to rest on his waist, holding him close. His eyes burned with heat, and a faint smile curved his lips.

Lin Xi could feel his heartbeat quickening. He spoke nervously,

“The company’s close to home. If you’re busy, you don’t need to come pick me up—or have Assistant Liang do it.”

Wen Feng tightened his hold slightly, his fingers rubbing lazily over the fabric of Lin Xi’s pajamas at his waist.

“He’s not much help around the office anyway. The company doesn’t pay people to sit idle. If I don’t give him something to do, he’ll end up facing layoffs—and at his age, with a wife and kids depending on his income, that wouldn’t be fair.”

Assistant Liang was indeed middle-aged. Though he carried himself well, a few white strands showed in his hair, and he clearly had a family to support. If someone his age lost his job, it would be miserable. Thinking of that, Lin Xi’s heart softened.

“Oh… then I guess it’s better not to let him lose his job.”

Wen Feng’s lips brushed dangerously close to Lin Xi’s.

“Still planning to keep drawing?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

Lin Xi clutched the hem of Wen Feng’s suit jacket, so nervous that his words came out soft and breathy. His voice was small and sweet, and with the little tuft of hair tied up on his head, he looked impossibly obedient.

Before he could say anything more, Wen Feng’s lips were on his. He didn’t give Lin Xi a chance to react, his tongue slipping past Lin Xi’s teeth, tasting him deeply. The kiss was gentle this time—not the rough, impatient kind he’d given before. He kissed slowly, savoring every breath, every soft sound, as if carefully coaxing Lin Xi into melting.

Lin Xi could never resist this side of Wen Feng. His reason shattered completely in that instant.

When standing became too much, Wen Feng lifted him into his arms, settling him onto his lap on the sofa, continuing to kiss him. Lin Xi’s eyes fluttered shut, his heartbeat chaotic as Wen Feng’s soft tongue tangled with his own. The room filled with the quiet sounds of wet kisses and their uneven breaths, thick with an intimate, hazy warmth.

Wen Feng’s hand slipped beneath his clothes, palm gliding along his slender waist, moving upward until it brushed against a sensitive spot on his chest.

Lin Xi’s eyes snapped open. He pushed Wen Feng away.

“No.”

His brows knitted together, and his eyes shimmered with tears—like a frightened little rabbit, afraid of being hurt. That night when Wen Feng had lost control had left a deep scar in his heart, one that hadn’t healed.

Wen Feng was still dazed with desire, his gaze unfocused. After a moment, he finally spoke.

“Alright.”

“Go to bed.”

Wen Feng carried him to the bedroom, set him down on the bed, and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Lin Xi sat there, heart still trembling, staring blankly at the bathroom door. After a while, he could hear the sound of water running, mixed with Wen Feng’s suppressed, muffled groans. He had thought Wen Feng might lose his temper again—but instead, he seemed calm.

Lin Xi curled up under the blanket, but no matter how long he stayed there, he couldn’t get warm. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, leaving only his eyes exposed.

When Wen Feng came out of the bathroom, he saw Lin Xi staring at him in alarm—his sleepy eyes struggling to stay open, his brows furrowed, the words “I don’t want to” practically written on his face.

Something dark flickered in Wen Feng’s eyes. He brushed aside the damp strands of hair on his forehead and walked to the bed. Pulling back the blanket, he lay down beside Lin Xi, covering his eyes with one hand.

“Sleep.”

Darkness fell before Lin Xi’s eyes, replaced only by the warmth of Wen Feng’s palm. He couldn’t see Wen Feng’s expression, but in his voice, there was something strained—an undertone of restraint.

Lin Xi didn’t dare move or make a sound. Fortunately, Wen Feng made no further advances. His hand slipped away from Lin Xi’s face, and soon after, he turned his back to him.

For the past few nights, Wen Feng had always held him to sleep, keeping him warm. Now, staring at Wen Feng’s back, Lin Xi felt a suffocating kind of unease rising in his chest.

Does Wen Feng really only see me as someone to vent his desires on?

Lin Xi buried his head under the blanket, hiding even from his own thoughts.

In his sleep, Lin Xi dreamed that he was standing in a vast field of snow. All around him was a freezing, desolate wasteland—no trace of life, only the biting chill of the wind. He shivered, curling in on himself for warmth.

Suddenly, he noticed a figure approaching from afar. The person’s features were hidden behind a layer of mist, but something about him felt strangely familiar, as if he had seen him somewhere before.

The figure slowly drew closer until he was standing right before Lin Xi, and without a word, pulled him into a firm embrace.

The world began to spin. The endless snow melted away, replaced by the gentle warmth of spring sunlight. The light was so dazzling that Lin Xi couldn’t open his eyes, and the man before him grew even more indistinct. Yet his entire body was wrapped in that comforting heat—it felt so real, so warm.

***

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains and fell across Lin Xi’s face. He blinked awake and sat up; the space beside him was already empty.

For a few moments, he just stared blankly into the distance. Then, from outside the bedroom, he heard the faint clatter of cooking in the kitchen. Slowly, his foggy mind cleared.

When he finished washing up, Wen Feng had already prepared breakfast. The two of them barely spoke during the meal—one kept his head down, eating quietly, while the other stared at his phone, absorbed in something else.

Before leaving the house, Wen Feng told him to wait by the door. Lin Xi nodded obediently.

A moment later, Wen Feng came out holding a thick trench coat. Lin Xi was only wearing a knit sweater over a shirt; the weather had turned cold recently, and today the temperature had dropped even more. He seldom paid attention to weather reports—only realizing how cold it was once he stepped outside.

Wen Feng unfolded the coat and draped it over Lin Xi’s shoulders. “Put it on.”

“Oh.”

Lin Xi didn’t ask any questions. He simply slipped his arms through the sleeves and carefully buttoned each one. The coat was designed like a cape with a belt at the waist. Wen Feng adjusted the collar for him, then helped tie the belt securely.

Watching the man’s calm, deliberate movements, Lin Xi’s throat went dry for no reason at all.

Wen Feng straightened up, opened the door, and said as he stepped outside, “Let’s go.”

Lin Xi blinked, startled, before quickly following after him.

The moment they stepped out, a gust of icy wind hit him square in the face, sharp enough to sting. He hurried to the car and slammed the door shut behind him. Inside, the heater was already on, warm air blowing steadily in his direction.

Lin Xi had always been sensitive to the cold. Wen Feng, on the other hand, wore only a shirt and a suit jacket, yet looked completely unaffected. Compared to him, Lin Xi looked like he could barely withstand the chill—he almost wanted to tuck his hands into his sleeves.

Thinking about it now, he was glad Wen Feng had thought to bring him an extra coat.

So, he turned slightly toward him and said softly, “Thank you… for bringing me the coat.”

Wen Feng slowly turned the steering wheel, eyes still fixed on the road ahead. “Lin Xi, when you thank someone… do you only say it with words?”

(To be continued…)