Is he my boyfriend?

My heart was beating out of rhythm, abnormally fast, to the point that I couldn't keep up with the breathing.

Jiang Songhe felt like she was suffocating. She moved her mouth away from her wide-open lips and instead used her thumb and forefinger to lift her chin, stretch her neck, and reveal her smooth skin with a throbbing pulse. She breathed hot air and bit down.

His Adam's apple bobbed a few times between his fingers, but he made no sound except for a gurgling sound. His silver-haired head struggled weakly for a moment, then reluctantly placed its weight on Jiang Songhe's fingertips, letting them manipulate it.

As the tide receded, Jiang Songhe still couldn't bear to leave his body, which he had worked hard to warm up to a normal temperature. Although his body temperature was normal, it presented a slight challenge: the wet and slippery surface made it difficult to hold him. So he nestled his forehead against the crook of his neck and tightened his limbs around him.

Only when his heartbeat and breathing were slightly synchronized did he release his hold, turn him over in his arms, and try to take advantage of Jonathan's confusion and passion to ask for a normal and formal kiss.

He held her lips in his mouth and licked them gently, but Jonathan still refused to respond.

Jiang Songhe was puzzled. He had already tried his best to give what he had been struggling to give before, so why hadn't he won forgiveness? So he pulled the man up again, their heartbeats touching, and pried open his teeth, attempting to coerce and entice him with an even more enthusiastic performance.

Jonah suddenly snapped out of his daze, retreated, and took a breath. Jiang Songhe immediately pressed the back of his head and followed closely behind.

"I can't... I can't..."

No, you can't.

No matter what you say or how you push, it's not allowed.

"I...I can't...breathe..."

The push turned into a hammer, and Jiang Songhe was hit several times in the chest. Then he felt his slender shoulders begin to tremble, twitch violently twice, and then suddenly stop moving.

Based on past experience, Jiang Songhe guessed that this might be a second "boy who cried wolf." He remembered that once Jonathan had come to provoke him, and he felt a surge of joy, so he cooperated and kept quiet.

The familiar trembling eyelashes, the familiar faint whitening.

Jiang Songhe raised her hand and gently patted the face of the person in her palm, suppressing a laugh as she reenacted the scene: "Baby, wake up?"

You only guessed half right.

Jiang Songhe stole a glance at Jonathan's hand, which was spread out between the two of them, waiting for it to slip away like a hibernating snake so that she could perform artificial respiration in a natural way according to the original script.

At this moment, Jonathan suddenly opened his eyes, took a deep breath, pushed Jiang Songhe away, rolled to the side, curled up into a ball, and coughed while clutching his chest.

Jiang Songhe suddenly felt his heart clench. Of all times, this moment of clarity had to come, leaving his mind blank. He stood there stunned for a long time, futilely trying to analyze the situation, when he heard a cough mixed with retching. Only then did he realize what was happening and rush over to help.

The sweat-soaked T-shirt clung haphazardly to his back, revealing a faint red patch through his left sphenoid bone.

Jiang Songhe thought that Jonathan had injured him by vandalizing the apartment earlier, and that he had been so oblivious that he had aggravated the injury. It felt like his veins couldn't flow with blood. He mechanically reached out and instinctively tried to lift his clothes.

"?!" Jonathan was startled and quickly rolled away, crawling towards the foot of the bed on his hands and feet.

Trembling and unsteady, where are they going? If we don't stop them, they'll definitely catch a cold!

Jiang Songhe's mind went blank for a moment, and he grabbed Jonathan's ankle. Jonathan lost his balance and fell to the ground with a thud. He angrily propped himself up, revealing a flushed face, and glared at Jiang Songhe, kicking him in the shoulder: "Are you deaf?! I cough, I said I don't want it anymore!"

No wonder Jonathan cursed. The wrinkled fabric of the T-shirt and the wide, exposed neckline were obviously caused by someone. Jiang Songhe cursed himself for being a beast, but he didn't let go of her hand.

“I didn’t,” he said, turning his other arm in front of him to block the view, and asked in a hoarse voice, “tsk, how are you going to go in this state?”

“My own apartment! I want to… well…” Jonathan suddenly fell silent, a suspicious blush rising on his face as he avoided eye contact. Then, dejectedly, he covered his face with his hands, trying to twist himself counterclockwise into a pretzel.

"Where does it hurt?!" Jiang Songhe hurriedly looked in the direction she had unconsciously glanced at a few times, but she choked up and couldn't speak.

The air was quiet.

"Uh." We can't let it air out any longer, or you'll really catch a cold. Jiang Songhe picked up the trousers on the ground and put them on, breaking the silence first. He scooped up Jonathan's face, which was as red as his cheeks, and carried him horizontally. "I won't move, I'll just put you in the bathroom."

"..."

-

Jiang Songhe put Jonathan in the bathtub, adjusted the water temperature, and then kicked him out.

He stood at the door, filled with regret. He shouldn't have let his lust get the better of him; he'd taken it off... and that was it. Being called deaf and a bastard was the least of his worries. "Achoo!!!"

Wearing only a pair of pants, the hot sweat quickly turned into cold sweat that clung stickily to his skin. The apartment had no air conditioning, and although there was no draft, Jiang Songhe was caught off guard and sneezed.

I can't worry about all that now, I have to do something first. Jiang Songhe sniffed the unidentified liquid that was stirring in his nose, and listened to the sounds in the bathroom. The faucet was still running, and it would probably take some time before the bathtub was full and he was done taking a bath.

He moved his body on his toes, as quietly but quickly as possible, to the front door and retrieve the small suitcase he had gathered at Moss Airport, which was filled with evidence.

Then he started mentally preparing his speech, hoping that when Jonathan came out he could address the root cause of the other person's grievances and anger in one go, in a meaningful and thorough manner.

More than half an hour later, the sound of footsteps hitting the water could be heard in the bathroom.

Jiang Songhe cleared his throat softly, pinched his nose to make sure there were no external factors affecting his performance, then straightened up to face the door, waiting to make eye contact with the person he was listening to.

The door opened, revealing a face devoid of its usual blush and all expression.

Jonathan's tone was devoid of any emotion: "I'm tired, you can leave."

Jiang Songhe pursed her lips to ward off the panic brought on by the bad omen, forced a smile, and still mispronounced her opening line: "I...I bought you some local specialties...oh, a gift."

"Thank you, I don't need any gifts."

“It’s different, I bought quite a variety…” Her snot was starting to whine again, so Jiang Songhe had to squat down to open the box, using the motion of zipping up the lid to wipe her nose. “It doesn’t snow often in Man’er, you see…”

He wiped his snot on his nose and then, disgusted, pried a crystal ball out from the middle of the suitcase, carefully avoiding his dirty fingers. He struggled to open the gift box, took it out, and stood up to show it to Jonathan: "There are two little figures holding hands inside. It's quite interesting."

Jonathan did not answer.

"How many times do I have to tell you before you listen?" Jonathan was probably really tired. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, his voice light and airy. "I've told you I'm not a child, so naturally I don't like these things that tease children."

His mouth stung slightly, and he felt increasingly uncomfortable all over, but now was not the time to ask if he could take a shower to relieve the pain. He laughed more broadly, squatted down, and went to look at other things.

“It’s okay if you don’t like this. How about Ivan Tea?” Jiang Songhe showed the tea canister shaped like a nesting doll. “Drinking too much coffee is bad for your health. Tea is healthier…”

Jonathan finally spoke with a clear tone and expression: "Stop flipping through them, I don't like any of them!"

"All." Suddenly calm, Jiang Songhe stared intently and realized that the familiar silver halo around Jonathan's neck was gone. As for when it had disappeared, he hadn't noticed.

His smile vanished, and he casually tossed the tea canister aside. He stepped forward, cupped Jonathan's bare neck with both hands, and enveloped Jonathan's face: "You clearly liked him before, so why don't you like him now, huh?"

Jonathan's pale face was shrouded in Jiang Songhe's shadow. Presumably because of the close distance, the smile shifted from Jiang Songhe's lips to Jonathan's: "I hadn't tried it before, but I have now."

So I don't like it anymore.

That makes sense; it's easier to accept if it's just about this one thing.

With specific events to support her story, the speech disturbances induced by alexithymia were alleviated. Jiang Songhe knew she had made a mistake and was certain she wouldn't repeat it, so she was finally able to express herself smoothly: "It's all my fault, I won't do it again. Don't say things in anger, okay?"

“I wasn’t just saying that out of anger.” Jonathan still had a slight smile on his lips, only his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. “Jiang Songhe, you think you’re ‘different,’ but actually, you’re no different from ‘others.’ You could even say…”

"It can't compare."

The increasingly loud buzzing sound pierced through his temples, and Jiang Songhe's pupils darted rapidly, jumping meaninglessly back and forth between Jonathan's eyes.

The face projected onto his narrow eyes shifted uncontrollably, transforming into a series of indistinct, playful, and unidentified male faces.

a long time.

Jiang Songhe released his hands.

-

Two years later.

"Brother, I called your advisor, and they said you took the day off. I told them I wanted to celebrate your birthday, but you said you had too much homework and classes, and insisted I stay in my group. And now? Where are you?! You turn around and take the day off to celebrate with someone else. You're not being fair, so don't blame me for cutting off your tuition as your parent..."

Jiang Songyun's voice came through the phone receiver in a rapid-fire tone. Jiang Songhe shook her head and chuckled. The volume was just enough for Jiang Songyun to hear her emotions clearly. Then, she moved a bunch of orange roses from her right hand to her left elbow, took off her silver-rimmed glasses, and rubbed the corners of her eyes.

It is truly remarkable that an older student like myself was admitted to the Directing Department of Beijing Film Academy and integrated into the campus full of eighteen- or nineteen-year-old students.

Because she is unmarried and childless and looks relatively young, she doesn't look so out of place when she takes off her usual suits and ties and wears casual clothes arranged by Jiang Songyun, unless someone lifts her bangs and stares at her face closely.

However, his energy levels are not as high as those of young people, and coupled with the fact that he has not been exercising regularly for the past two years, his physique has deteriorated significantly. As a result, the muscles around his eyes have also become uncooperative. During his adult college entrance examination, he stayed up late studying, and after enrolling, he rushed to complete assignments for the directing department, which was filled with light pollution. Not long after, Jiang Songhe developed mild myopia.

After enduring the discomfort for a year, Jiang Songhe finally got a pair of glasses when he needed to scout locations for a short film at the start of the new semester, fearing that blurry vision would cause problems. The new prescription was correct, but the feeling of something in his nose and behind his ears was always difficult to get used to, so he had to take them off frequently to relax.

"Tell me, who else could you leave me for?" Jiang Songyun pressed for details. "You didn't just find me a sister-in-law on the side, did you? I'm telling you right now, you're not allowed to date someone from Beijing Film Academy. If you insist on dating someone, it has to be someone from the Central Academy of Drama..."

"You're getting more and more absurd." Jiang Songhe walked towards the gray and white maze with excellent greenery. "I'm at the cemetery, I came to see Mom and Dad."

"..." The line went silent abruptly, and it took a long time for someone to speak, "Didn't we agree to let go and only go on official days starting this year?"

"Yeah, I know, it's just a habit. It always bothers me if I don't come." Since it would be impolite to continue making calls inside, Jiang Songhe stopped behind a tree at the entrance, waiting to finish talking with Jiang Songyun before going in to sweep the tombs.

"Oh..." A third person suddenly called Jiang Songyun in a low voice on the other end of the phone. Jiang Songyun covered the receiver and responded, then uncovered it, his tone somewhat embarrassed, "Hao Qing said the makeup and hair department called. Brother, how about I send you a cake overboard later?"

"I appreciate your kind words, but you forgot I don't like sweets?" Jiang Songhe coaxed Jiang Songyun gently. "It's alright, you go ahead. I'll just clean Mom and Dad's tombstones and then come back."

"Alright, I'll make it up to you with your favorite food when I get back to Jingting."

"Okay, I'll wait for you, bro."

After ending the call, Jiang Songhe tried to put his phone inside his suit jacket, only to find it empty. Looking down, he realized he was wearing a grey sweater with a high collar, the kind worn by domineering CEOs in Korean dramas—it had no pockets and was practically stuffy.

He couldn't complain about the phone his younger brother bought for him, but when he saw the lizard-like head reflected in the screen, he found it really funny. He chuckled at his own ugliness, then regained his usual calm and put the phone down to get down to business.

With a slight smile, Jiang Songhe first located her parents in the open field of vision. When she looked in that direction, she felt as if the blood in her body had instantly frozen.

A slender figure with ochre hair, the ends of which were casually tied up, was at this moment carefully wiping the tombstones of her parents in place of Jiang Songhe.

Knowing it was impossible, Jiang Songhe instinctively hid behind a tree.

His fingers trembled uncontrollably, his throat felt like it was sealed with cement, yet it felt like a mouthful of blood was rising up, impossible to swallow or spit out. Symptoms that hadn't occurred in a long time suddenly returned unexpectedly. A year ago, a psychologist told him that this symptom was called somatization.

The hair color was wrong, the style was wrong, and she had never mentioned where her parents were buried, let alone had no contact with them for two years. It was impossible, absolutely impossible... Jiang Songhe tried to overturn the chaotic delusions so that she could return to normal.

“Jiang Songhe, you think you are ‘different’, but in reality, you are no different from ‘others’. You could even say… you are inferior.”

Jiang Songhe let out a long sigh, leaned against the tree trunk to stand up, and coldly watched her embarrassment gradually dissipate. She even sneered, "At your age, who are you trying to impress? What kind of melodramatic act are you putting on?"

He recovered very quickly.

With utmost calmness, he embraced the orange rose and approached the stranger standing behind him at the grave. Afraid of startling the stranger, he greeted him in a soft and polite tone: "Hello."

The stranger's back trembled, and he stopped what he was doing. After a long while, he turned his body slightly.

Before the other person could turn around completely, Jiang Songhe shifted her gaze from the ends of the ochre hair to the altar, where an orange rose was already placed. Although she had mistakenly taken over the task, it was quite a coincidence that she was able to choose the right one.

Only then did he raise his eyes and inhale very slowly.

Her narrow eyes were curved, her eyelashes were glistening with dew, and the tip and sides of her nose were red. It was quite chilly in the afternoon in Jingting in April.

The stranger stood up and greeted Jiang Songhe: "Hi, long time no see, how are you?"

"That's fine." Jiang Songhe answered in her heart, and said aloud, "Thank you, I have something to do, you go ahead and do your work."

He dropped the bouquet, turned and left, exhaling as he endlessly rummaged through his pockets for his car keys.

"Jiang Songhe, look!" An orange rose was thrust out in front of her, blocking her way, followed by a smug smile. "I grew it myself, isn't that amazing?"

"Impressive." Jiang Songhe glanced sideways at him, then continued walking forward: "Thank you for your hard work."

His legs felt like lead, and he couldn't walk fast. After a few steps, he was caught up again: "I live nearby. Would you like to come and see my garden?"

There are no star-rated hotels nearby, only dilapidated bungalows; whether they're even habitable is questionable: "No, thank you."

"Jiang Songhe, slow down, slow down!" The voice beside her grew louder and louder. "I left something very important with you!"

Oh right, the necklace he wore for many years is still at the Jiang family villa. So that's why.

The dead leg stopped, and Jiang Songhe looked ahead at the people catching up, but never made eye contact again: "Give me an address, and I'll send it to you via express delivery."

"I want to go get it myself. It's been so long, how am I supposed to know if you've lost it and switched it?"

...

Jiang Songhe still asked Jonathan to get into the car.

We can't just drive straight back to the villa to get it; we have to go through a lot of twists and turns to get to another place first, so we can take another important item with us.

The Volvo drove into a remote area of ​​bungalows and stopped outside a rusty iron fence.

Jonathan got out of the back seat, and Jiang Songhe frowned. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of orange. Jonathan might really have a garden in this godforsaken place, but that had nothing to do with Jiang Songhe.

Jiang Songhe didn't turn off the car. After Jonathan picked up the important item and climbed back into the back seat, he stepped on the gas and drove back to the villa.

The Volvo was parked on the public road outside the villa, and the two got out of the car.

As they arrived at the door one after the other, Jiang Songhe noticed that the thing in Jonathan's arms was a square box, clearly for holding a cake. Below the ribbon bow at the top, there was a more vibrant orange rose, obviously freshly picked.

Jiang Songhe was somewhat agitated, but she couldn't afford to be agitated, because it was impossible.

So he raised his hand to press the fingerprint lock, intending to finish quickly and avoid repeating the mistakes of two years ago. But he found his much rougher palm blocking the sensor area, where a key lay.

"Can this key... still open the door?"

Jiang Songhe took a deep breath, his large hand reaching across the palm without making any contact, and pressed down hard with his thumb to unlock it: "Throw it away, the lock was changed a long time ago."

-

Jiang Songhe entered first, without even changing his shoes, and said "The door is open" before quickly going upstairs.

Even though he hadn't opened the bedside table drawer in almost two years, he didn't need to look at it; he simply reached in and touched the velvet jewelry box. He then quickly went downstairs and delivered it to the entryway.

"Return the item to its rightful owner." This was the farewell line that Jiang Songhe had prepared.

Just past the stairwell, the person disappeared from sight. There was no one outside the open door. Jiang Songhe looked down and saw shoes scattered all over the entryway floor. Turning her head, she found Jonathan rummaging through the shoe closet.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Songhe knocked loudly on the sliding door of the shoe and hat room, reminding the guest to behave himself.

Jonathan backed out, his hair, which had been casually tied up, becoming even more disheveled as the hems of the clothes hanging in the dressing room were stirred. Perhaps because of the downward angle, the outline of his ochre-colored hair was more complete, and combined with his eyes hidden by long eyelashes, he looked pitiful and malnourished.

Jiang Songhe swallowed his farewell words for the time being.

"I'm looking for my slippers." Jonathan sniffed, wiped his eyes, and said blankly, "You probably threw them away too. What a waste of my trip."

"..." Jiang Songhe put one hand into his pocket, then took it out again, and his hand turned into a cell phone. "What was the name of that place we just went to? I'll call a car to take you back."

Jonathan straightened his hair and got up. He reached out as if to take Jiang Songhe's free hand, but Jiang Songhe dodged him. He then reached for the dresser behind Jiang Songhe and placed the embroidered box between the two of them.

"You have to eat cake on your birthday, and I made it myself. Don't you want to try some?"

“I won’t eat it either.” Jiang Songhe rubbed his forehead, his bangs flipping up and down, the rustling sound of them hitting his glasses doubling his irritation. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and took a step toward the door. “I don’t need to call a car, you can go back by yourself.”

“I don’t want to go back, it’s awful there.” Jonathan ignored Jiang Songhe’s pointed gesture and put down the box, talking to himself, “But luckily my lease is almost up, could you take me in then? I’m still living in that room on the first floor…”

A fire finally ignited from the depths of his heart. Jiang Songhe slammed the door shut with a bang, but still didn't approach. He asked again, using his full name, "Jonathan, what exactly do you want, huh?!"

Startled by the loud noise, Jonathan shrank back, but still oblivious to the danger, he leaned closer: "I want to apologize to you, I want to say that I never slept with Ryan, and I haven't played games with anyone else since, only you. I want to say that I was sick back then, and that pushing you away wasn't my true intention. I want to say..."

The wall full of voice recorders in the living room of the Nest Winza penthouse was clearly visible. Facts speak louder than words. Jiang Songhe knew that if he fell into Jonah's trap again, he would be a complete idiot.

“True feelings?” Jiang Songhe grabbed Jonathan’s wrist. “Not from the heart means there is still something. How lucky you are, Jonathan.”

Talking about this and that, getting caught but trying to hide, haha.

Jiang Songhe pried open Jonathan's fingers one by one and pressed them against her chest: "Can you feel anything? Can you feel anything?"

Jonah opened his mouth in surprise, then shook his head repeatedly: "No..."

“If you can’t feel anything and can’t feel anything, that’s right,” Jiang Songhe clenched his fist and pounded it against his chest. “His heart is broken, dead, and empty inside!”

Jonah suddenly lost in thought: "It was me who hurt him...it was me..."

Jiang Songhe scoffed: "Yes, it was you, Jonathan. You won this shitty game completely! Are you satisfied now? If you are, you can go back to your Manr with my personal admission."

After saying that, he turned to the side and tried to open the door again, stretching out one arm to pull the handle and using the other hand to push Jonathan's wrist out of the door.

Jonah grabbed Jiang Songhe's outstretched arm with both hands and leaned against it with his full weight. Perhaps he tripped over one of the carelessly discarded shoes, his body shifted, and he fell rapidly in an unexpected direction.

Jiang Songhe's breath hitched reflexively, and he reflexively chased after the person, protecting their head and waist as he scooped them up and caught them.

Forced to look into each other's eyes, I realized I had been tricked again.

Jonathan seized the opportunity to wrap his arms around his neck, his tearful eyes and sly smile creating an infuriating contrast: "You still care, give me a chance to prove it."

Before Jiang Songhe could refuse, he clung to her even tighter and covered her mouth. When she pushed him away, he wiped his tears and snot off with his shoulder and continued again and again.

Jiang Songhe forcefully broke through the embrace, grabbing Jonathan's neck and shoving him against the wall without any mercy: "Don't you fucking understand? My heart is dead, completely dead!!!"

Jonah paused for a moment, then turned to touch Jiang Songhe's face.

"What's with that expression, hmm?" Jiang Songhe stopped Jonah's hand and wrapped it around hers again. "Don't know where your heart should be? Here—"

The fists pounded into his heart, each blow heavier than the last.

"He's dead!"

"Dead!!"

"Dead!!!"

"Dead, dead, dead..."

Seeing Jonathan's shocked expression, Jiang Songhe felt that this was finally the end of it. So she let go of his hand, pulled down the handle, opened the door, and let him leave.

“I’ve paid back everything I owed you, there’s nothing left for you to humiliate, Jonathan.”

"Really, let's go, don't come back."

He closed the door and casually squatted down to clean up the mess on the entryway floor, only to find that no matter whether they were leather shoes or casual shoes, the surface of each shoe was soaked with water stains from who-knows-where, and he couldn't dry them no matter what he did.

He got up, removed the smudged lenses, pinched his eye sockets, and manually stopped the water supply.

A voice came from the other side of the door, squeezing through the crack in the window: "But I have no home anymore..."

After a while, he moved to the window, trying to dry himself in the sunlight streaming in from the corner. He didn't know how much time had passed when he vaguely saw a group of figures getting up from that direction. He instinctively took a step back and stood behind the curtains.

Once the footsteps had faded into the distance and the sound had completely disappeared, he returned to his original spot. In the blink of an eye, as he took his glasses off and put them back on, the person who had made the sound seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Jiang Songhe turned to look at the chest of drawers and sighed.

"I already said I don't eat cake."

-

"The fare is so expensive (slurp)... What should I do? I didn't wear a mask (slurp)... Jingting is in a bad situation (slurp slurp)..."

Jiang Songhe found a figure huddled up like a pangolin, its head covered, behind a tree in the corner of the low wall separating the two villas. When he found it, its ochre hair was twitching.

"Get up," he said coldly.

The figure lifted the swollen bubble with tears streaming down its face, squinted to see clearly, pursed its lips and kept silent for a moment, then waved its phone rapidly in front of Jiang Songhe: "I'm not... the car will be here soon."

Jiang Songhe glanced at it and ruthlessly exposed: "You have to place an order first to call a car."

His thin lips tightened, then a voice broke through his defenses: "Can't I even sit under your tree for a while?! (slurp) You don't have to be so stingy with strangers, do you? I promised I'd leave on my own in a bit..."

Jiang Songhe clicked his tongue, picked the person up, and shoved him into the spot hidden by the wall.

Jonathan put his hands behind his back, tilted his head and stared at a certain spot: "Do you regret not beating me up? Do you feel like you're missing out? If I had fought back, I wouldn't have fought back. If you had beaten me up like a pig, I could have just swaggered off to take the bus."

Jiang Songhe frowned and raised his hand.

Jonathan tilted his head and closed his eyes.

Jiang Songhe viciously wiped the snot that he hadn't had time to sniff back with the pad of his thumb: "I fucking want to kill you."

Jonah opened one eye first, then the other, both eyes flashing with disbelief.

"Then do it." Jonathan grabbed Jiang Songhe's palm and wiped it under his nose a couple of times. "Anyway, I'm a homeless vagrant now. It's better to kill me than to kill yourself. You don't need to report to anyone if you kill me. Just bury me in this tree... Ugh!"

"Shut up!" Jiang Songhe's anger, which had just subsided, was reignited by the words "whether you'll get it or not" and "whether you'll die or not." She grabbed Jonah's lower face with such force that his head snapped back and slammed against a tree with a thud.

Both of them froze, as if their minds had short-circuited.

It took Jiang Songhe about half a minute to come to her senses. She hurriedly supported her face with one hand, turned her head to look at the back of Jonathan's head, and then touched it to see if there was a hole in it.

"I'm sorry." Finding nothing, Jiang Songhe glanced at the cake box behind the corner, then put her hands in her pockets, scratching the velvet surface with her fingernails before pulling out her phone. "I'll call you a car. And if you don't have anywhere to go, you can stay at the hotel Yunhe is working with. As for a place… I'll find you a place as soon as possible, later…"

Jonah stared intently, and before Jiang Songhe could finish speaking, he blurted out a string of excited, nonsensical questions, which were quite astonishing.

"You're so handsome, brother~~ Is this your home? My name is Jiang Lai, and you are... my boyfriend, right?"

Jiang Songhe's pupils dilated in shock: "What...?"

"Did I guess wrong?" Jonathan blinked innocently, as if recalling something. "I remember how you looked just now, we seemed to be... kissing."

"..." How did Jiang Lai get here? What's going on here?

"If we're not a couple, why are we kissing? Why are you finding me a place to live?" Jonathan asked curiously, his eyes growing brighter and brighter, almost stabbing Jiang Songhe in the back. "Hmm? Hmm? Am I right? Tell me!"

Regardless of whether the person opposite is "Jiang Lai" or someone else, admitting to kissing is much easier than admitting to violence.

Jiang Songhe searched for clues in her blinking eyes to see if the other person was playing tricks, but to no avail. She sighed, hugged him, and cursed herself in her heart as a "pure idiot" while rubbing the large bump on the back of her ochre head.

"right."

[The first part, "The Enchanting Nightmare," is complete; the second part, "The Unyielding Cocoon," is coming soon.]