This place is yours.

Jonathan's fox-like eyelashes were thick and long, especially at the corners of his eyes, extending upwards. When the light shone down, the shadows, like the man-eating flower's mouthparts, obscured his cunning and lively eyes, making him appear both amorous and pitiful.

His smile is even more deadly, especially when his pupils are veiled with a wet, red mist, like a soul-devouring blade. It seems that if he just blinks at someone, that person will instantly become a greedy fool under his control.

At this moment, he was staring intently at Jiang Songhe, smiling as he said he wanted her, that he liked her, and that he was willing to be killed.

Jiang Songhe wasn't a murderer, so he naturally wouldn't really want to kill Jonathan. On the contrary, Jiang Songhe was already terrified and his hands were shaking just from driving Jonathan under the influence for 500 meters.

Perhaps it was the collapse of her defenses that caused the switch to control her emotions and reason to malfunction. Jiang Songhe was met with wave after wave of physical and verbal provocations from Jonathan. She felt like she was about to be drowned by desire, yet she still wanted to delve deeper.

My heart was pounding and aching, and it felt like I could only breathe in but not out.

He wants him?

"I can't give you anything," "I'm not married and abstinent," "I can't help you in your career," and even, "I'm not that rich."

What would be the point of having him here?

"Make games that provide inspiration," and then what? "How long can a person who is barren inside last?"

...

As Jiang Songhe pondered, the temperature of her lips gradually cooled.

"What...are you thinking about?" A sharp pain suddenly shot through my lips, followed by a series of intermittent, reproachful words. "You...are so good at...concentrating...a little..."

Let's give what we can give right now.

Jiang Songhe, filled with an indescribable yet intense emotion, closed her aching and burning eyelids, wrapped her arms around his waist and neck, and, in a gesture of embracing a piece of driftwood, tried her best to return the kiss.

The air was quickly cleared away, and the distracting thoughts in Jiang Songhe's mind were gradually driven away by the sound of the water. He instinctively hugged Jonathan even tighter.

After an unknown amount of time of mutual plundering, Jonathan was probably suffocating. His waist slumped, and he swayed as if shivering. Jiang Songhe choked, released his hand from the bent neck, and moved it to the back of his head where silver hair was damp and tangled.

The two men pressed their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

The scorching breath sprayed onto Jiang Songhe's collarbone without any obstruction, accompanied by a barely perceptible rustling sound of fabric, spreading to his chest. Jiang Songhe's breath suddenly caught in his throat, and he reflexively grabbed a pair of hands that were clumsily unbuttoning his shirt.

Jonah swayed unsteadily, her voice a mix of grievance and anxious coaxing: "Jiang Songhe... I feel so bad..."

Jiang Songhe pursed her lips, struggling to swallow the word "no." The two options, "give" and "don't give," resounded loudly, keeping pace with her heartbeat.

Before he could figure it out, Jonathan quickly pulled his hands out, crossed them, pinched the side seam of his shirt, pulled it out from his waistband, raised his elbows and puffed out his chest, as if he was about to lift it up.

"!" Jiang Songhe grabbed Jonathan's collar and pulled it down to cover his barely visible V-line.

As a result, Jonathan turned the tables and captured his hand.

Jonathan grasped Jiang Songhe's left palm with both hands, staring intently at her, then brought the tip of his middle finger to his lips and said, "This is yours."

"..." Jiang Songhe stared at the lips that were wet with something, and took a breath.

Jonathan then brought his trembling fingertips to his bobbing Adam's apple: "This is yours too."

Jiang Songhe felt the throbbing produced by the fragile bone peaks, and his throat and tongue became dry.

His fingertips touched the chest, which was damp with a light sweat, and Jonathan placed his palm on top of the rhythmic, powerful beating: "And here, yours."

Jiang Songhe's thenar eminence brushed against **'s, and goosebumps quickly rose on his forearm.

His fingertips pointed downwards again and again, ********************: "Here, here, here, it's all yours."

Jiang Songhe's mind began to wander, and for a moment he could not even feel the reality of his touch. He only felt the temperature of his palms merge with the temperature of Jonah's body, trembling in unison.

Two hands stopped at the slender folds. Jonathan stopped guiding downwards and instead freed one hand to encircle Jiang Songhe's shoulder and neck. He leaned in close and kissed Jiang Songhe's chin, pecking at her ear.

“I,” Jonathan whispered, “am yours.”

Jiang Songhe's mind went blank. He clenched his teeth, fearing that if he opened his mouth, his heart would jump out of his chest.

With the exit blocked, the heart can only pound wildly within the chest, triggering violent external fluctuations. Wherever the internal energy reaches, it stirs up raging currents of heat, which, amidst chaos, converge in an orderly fashion at a crucial point.

Jiang Songhe spat out a resentful "Damn it!" between his teeth, gripped the lean side of his waist tightly, and with his other hand, he slipped inside the suit jacket, reached over the hunched back, grabbed the opposite shoulder, and suddenly flipped Jonathan over.

The two sat together, chest to back, their four long legs pointing in one direction. Jiang Songhe covered Jonathan's eyes, leaned back, and bumped against the inside car door.

A faint, gliding sound.

Jonathan hung his head and panted a few times, then let out a long hiss, straightened his chest, and buried the back of his head in Jiang Songhe's neck, whimpering like a docile lamb.

The voice was similar, but the body shape was not. It resembled a wild and untamed horse, which, though controlled by the reins, was still unpredictable and thrashed about.

As the producer of a long-running period martial arts drama, Jiang Songhe naturally has some knowledge of equestrianism.

It's best to start training horses from a young age. When foals first wear a bridle, they will inevitably be afraid. The trainer should gently stroke them and hand-feed them to gradually increase their sense of security and closeness.

Once the foal has adapted to being with the groom, the groom can begin training it gradually, establishing a clear reward and punishment system. Good gait should be rewarded, for example, by giving it a long carrot; disorderly behavior should be punished, for example, by giving it a stern slap on the rump.

As the foal grows, it's important to carefully observe its body language and provide appropriate comfort. If it's kicking in pain, massage it gently; if it's wagging its tail in happiness, stroke its coat; if it's whining in loneliness, cuddle and cuddle it…

However, Jiang Songhe was not an experienced horse trainer. Training horses requires extraordinary composure and patience, especially when dealing with an energetic silver-maned steed.

Given Jiang Songhe's current state, he is hardly capable of fulfilling his duties. The training process is not even halfway through, yet he has already become restless and fidgety.

Fearing that he might startle the horse and cause uncontrollable consequences, he reluctantly loosened the reins, turned them around again, embraced the horse's long neck, and let the horse's head rest on his shoulder, not allowing it to notice his abnormality.

The horse seemed thirsty and licked the sweat off Jiang Songhe's neck.

"The back... is yours too..." the horse whimpered, "You clearly... are working so hard... don't you want... me?"

Jiang Songhe was shocked and slapped him without restraint, instinctively scolding, "Isn't that dirty?"

The horse neighed loudly, but bound by its lasso, it could only gallop in place. Seemingly afraid, it hesitated for a moment before trembling and pleading, "If you think it's dirty… I'll do it myself…"

As he spoke, he turned one of his front hooves and reached towards the horse's tail.

"I wasn't talking about you...tsk!" Jiang Songhe's heart was suddenly gripped and pulled up. Explaining was wrong, not explaining was wrong too. In desperation, he grabbed the horse's hoof and twisted it around on the horse's back, pressing it firmly.

A twisted, nameless anger began to surge within him. Jiang Songhe bit the horse's neck hard and began to speed up the reins.

If he doesn't end the process soon, he can't guarantee that he won't completely break his vow.

As the horse suddenly shifted its speed, its back stiffened and trembled, its whimpers completely sealed by its tightly clenched lips.

Jiang Songhe has a very keen sense of smell and quickly detected the sweet and pungent scent. He released his grip on the horse's legs, clamped the jawbone, turned the horse's head and face around, and began to suckle and lick its mouth.

A moment later, Jiang Songhe felt a heat in his chest and chin at the same time.

"What should I do... I still managed to get you... dirty."

-

When Jiang Songhe was accurately sniped, he was stunned at first, and it took him a while to come to his senses and look down.

Jonah muttered words of self-reproach, but his unfocused eyes revealed a satisfied smile, as if he were still lost in the afterglow of the memory.

Jiang Songhe's heart had just settled down a little, and before he could even wipe it, he saw Jonathan stick out his tongue and head towards his chin. He immediately covered Jonathan's mouth, wanting to say "dirty," but swallowed the words.

Despite being so infatuated, Jonah still couldn't behave. After his lips and tongue were rejected, he took advantage of the situation to lick Jiang Songhe's palm.

"..." Jiang Songhe was not very calm at this moment. She was ambushed and shook off her hand as if she had been burned.

"Don't be stubborn... I'm not blind..." Jonathan's fingers were weak, but she still stubbornly tried to unbuckle Jiang Songhe's belt. "If you're shy... I can... not look..."

"..." Jiang Songhe's face turned bright red, and he suddenly choked up.

“Anyway…you’ve already…and I’m not without…” Jonathan’s speech and movements became slower and softer, “Huff…huff…”

Jonathan fell asleep nestled in Jiang Songhe's arms.

The tension finally eased, and Jiang Songhe let out a long sigh of relief. She wrapped her arms around Jonathan and leaned against the car door behind her.

Unexpectedly, they misjudged the distance and crashed into each other, causing both of them to bounce.

It must have been quite physically demanding; I wonder if I'll sleepwalk?

Jiang Songhe quickly checked to see if Jonathan had been startled awake. Thankfully, his eyelashes were just trembling, and he was smacking his lips contentedly. He couldn't help but watch him for a while longer when Jonathan suddenly clung to his neck and touched his cheek with the tip of his nose.

It swept tirelessly, seemingly searching for something.

After searching for a while, perhaps unable to find it, Jonathan frowned slightly and mumbled incoherently, "Jiang Songhe... smile more... only at me! Smile only at me..."

Jiang Songhe instantly recalled a fragment of a dream. In the dream, Jonathan was just like that, talking nonsense in a drunken stupor, and suddenly let out a burp.

"Heh." Jiang Songhe was amused, and Jonathan immediately quieted down, put his hand down and hung on his neck again, falling into a deep sleep like a sloth.

Perhaps because of the alcohol, or perhaps because of the darkness, Jiang Songhe was unusually honest with himself at this moment.

My heart feels like it's being burned to ashes.

He couldn't help but smooth Jonathan's messy hair, lower his head to sniff and kiss it, and then hug him tightly.

After listening to their heartbeats for a while, he gently squeezed Jonathan's shoulder and whispered, "Jonathan?"

The only response he received was a long, steady breath.

He pursed his lips and tentatively stammered, "I am...I am actually...a homosexual."

...

One hour later.

"Little mouse, fell into the rice jar, hid one grain at a time in its mouth, one grain, two grains, three grains, four grains, five grains, six grains, seven grains, eight grains, nine grains, ten grains, eleven grains, twelve grains..."

Jiang Songhe remained lying upright, muttering to himself. He held Jonathan, who was sleeping peacefully nearby, in one arm and held a wet wipe to clean the stains in the other, wiping his forehead and neck from time to time, trying to cool down by wiping away sweat.

However, the egg was useless.

He still felt unbearably hot and restless. The thought of having to endure this until dawn suddenly broke his defenses, and he muttered angrily at the "little mouse" in the lullaby.

"Damn it, why aren't you finished hiding yet?"

...

early morning.

Jonah curled his fingers, his nails digging into his palms, his limbs trembled violently, and he woke up with a start, gasping for breath.

He rolled his eyes and looked around to make sure no one was around.

Then he sat up stiffly, and the suit jacket covering him slid straight down under the chair.

The familiar scene before him stirred up a memory.

He peered intently at the suit jacket beneath the seat through the swirling dust in the light.

It's black too, how ironic.

After a long while, he lowered his head and covered his face, his excited shouts squeezing out from between his fingers.

"Bastard! Coward! You're such a coward, you don't even want the car anymore?! Damn it!!!!"

A sharp, blinding light and the chill of a winter morning rushed into the chaotic space.

"What are you doing so early in the morning?" someone outside the space asked.

Jonah hesitated before removing his hands.

Looking at his palm, he saw it was already soaked with tears. Then he looked at the source of the sound; the person was standing in the light.

He crawled on his knees into the light and embraced the person inside.

"What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" The man paused, pushed him a few times before finally letting him go, then paused again when he saw his face. He then pulled a tissue from the brown paper bag in his hand and wiped away the snot and tears for him. "I'm going to buy breakfast."

Once he had calmed down a bit, the man pressed his shoulder and told him to sit down, then put the brown paper bag in his lap.

He was holding a bag of McDonald's, sobbing and staring blankly.

"Tsk." The person above sighed impatiently, "Come here."

He didn't want to move; his face must be swollen like a sad frog right now.

Then, his chin was forced to lift up.

Before he could react, the full, warm touch landed on his lips like a butterfly.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Until he was certain enough that it was a conscious, serious, and proactive kiss.

After confirming, the person released him, reverting to their cold demeanor, and urged him impatiently, "Eat quickly, then we'll go back."

"Go back...where?"

"go home."

"Jiang Songhe..."

"Tsk, what are you dawdling for?"

"I need to pee."

"..."