Chapter 45 Glimmer (14) A Voyeur?

The storage room was already cramped and cluttered with miscellaneous items. When Gu Moheng's tall figure squeezed in, the air seemed to thin out. The light from his phone shone on the top shelf, and dust particles floated in the beam of light.

Gu Moheng held up his phone for light with his left hand, while his right hand struggled to reach the box in the corner.

Perhaps the earlier provocation had dissipated his strength, or perhaps his shoulders and neck, stiff from sitting at his desk for so long, were already stiff; his fingertips were always just an inch short. He stood on tiptoe, his back muscles tensed, and he stretched his body upwards with all his might. He tried twice, but the box didn't budge. Instead, it kicked up a cloud of dust, making him cough twice, looking slightly disheveled.

Just as I was about to switch hands, a warm object suddenly pressed against my back.

Wen Chen silently took a step forward, just enough to fill the small gap between them, her chest almost touching Gu Moheng's back.

In that instant, Wen Chen felt the person in front of him stiffen as if they were made of iron. He turned his head slightly, his left hand reaching over Gu Moheng's shoulder towards the box on the high place.

The height difference between the two became subtle at this moment.

Although Wen Chen was slender, he had a large frame, and this movement almost completely encircled Gu Moheng in his arms. Gu Moheng remained in the position of holding his phone, not daring to move an inch, even holding his breath. The continuous heat emanating from his back felt like a fine, scorching net, firmly capturing him.

Wen Chen's arm brushed against his ear, and her warm breath sprayed onto the nape of his neck, like a feather gently brushing against him, making his heart tremble.

This pose...

The muffled thunder outside the window was no longer audible; all that could be heard was the gradually synchronized heartbeats of the two people, thumping against their eardrums.

Wen Chen lowered her eyes and, by the dim light of her phone, saw the tiny red mole behind Gu Moheng's ear. When they were together before, Wen Chen loved to kiss that spot, and every time she touched it, Gu Moheng would tremble sensitively.

He didn't let the emotion run wild. Reason returned, Wen Chen slightly curled his fingers, stretched out his long arm, and easily hooked the edge of the tin box.

"Got it." A cool voice broke the frozen ambiguity. As the words fell, Wen Chen decisively withdrew his hand and took a step back. The heat source behind him vanished abruptly. Cold air rushed in instantly, filling the gap between them, like an invisible wall rising again to separate them.

Gu Moheng stood frozen in place, a profound emptiness enveloping him. He turned around, the beam of his phone light flickering before finally settling on Wen Chen's face. In the interplay of light and shadow, the lingering longing in his eyes was clearly visible, even the corners of his eyes tinged with a faint red.

Wen Chen shook the tin box, and the dull thud of candles clinking inside rang out. He pushed up his glasses, concealing the fleeting emotion in his eyes, and a faint smile curved his lips, like a sliver of light filtering through the clouds on a winter's day.

"What are you staring at?" He turned and walked out. "Let's go back to the living room."

Gu Moheng stood there, watching that figure from behind, his lips curving upwards involuntarily, and even the disappointment he had felt earlier had faded considerably.

Back in the living room, the thunder outside the window gradually subsided, leaving only the muffled sound of winter rain pattering against the glass.

Wen Chen placed the red tin box on the coffee table. A match struck the phosphorescent surface, and the smell of sulfur filled the cold, still air. A small, orange flame flickered and lit up, then ignited the milky white wick.

Three candles were lit in quick succession. The once pitch-black living room was gently illuminated by clusters of warm yellow light. The flickering light cast long shadows of the two people on the wall, sometimes bright, sometimes dim, just like their current gloomy and uncertain emotions.

Wen Chen sat languidly on the sofa, legs crossed, her gold-rimmed glasses reflecting an enigmatic light in the candlelight. Gu Moheng sat at the other end of the sofa, two body lengths apart, the safe distance at this moment.

"Gu Moheng." Wen Chen casually played with the matchbox in his hand, his fingertips gently stroking the edge.

"Yes." Gu Moheng's voice was even lower than usual.

“Sitting here is boring.” Wen Chen turned his head, the candlelight casting a soft glow on his handsome profile, but unable to illuminate the depths of his eyes. “Want to play a game?”

Gu Moheng's hands, resting on his knees, tightened slightly. "What game?"

Wen Chen smiled, the composure of a hunter watching his prey step into a trap.

"One person tells a secret."

Wen Chen's voice was soft, yet it sounded exceptionally clear in the empty living room, "What the other party doesn't know, and it must be the truth."

Gu Moheng's heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively wanted to refuse this dangerous confession. But when he met Wen Chen's eyes, which seemed to be smiling but weren't, the words rolled on his tongue, and he swallowed them back.

"good."

"Then I'll go first." Wen Chen put down the matchbox, leaned forward slightly, and deliberately shortened the safe distance. His gaze was extremely penetrating, as if he could peel away Gu Moheng's elite shell and reach the deepest part of his soul.

"I know you've been keeping that manuscript from my college days."

Gu Moheng's pupils shrank sharply, and he froze instantly, as if struck by lightning.

"How could you..." He instinctively wanted to deny it; it was something he kept hidden the deepest, even more secret than those out-of-print magazines.

Looking at the astonished expression on Gu Moheng's face, Wen Chen's eyes flashed with understanding.

really.

He wasn't actually sure; he just had a sudden inspiration when he glimpsed Gu Moheng's clumsy architectural notes in the study. Unexpectedly, he actually guessed right.

"Never mind how I know." Wen Chen leaned back on the sofa, her fingertips lightly tapping the armrest. "It's your turn."

Gu Moheng took a deep breath and looked at the face he had been longing for in the candlelight. Since he was going to be honest, he might as well be completely honest.

"I've learned to play the piano." The moment he said those words, Gu Moheng felt his cheeks burning.

Wen Chen raised an eyebrow, a rare hint of surprise on his face.

"I studied it in the United States. Because... you said that when you're tired of drawing, you love to listen to piano music."

Back then, Wen Chen always said that Gu Moheng was obsessed with money and didn't understand the romance of art. Gu Moheng dismissed this, thinking that playing the piano was less important than earning money to buy materials for Wen Chen.

Only after losing it did he frantically start learning the things he had once scorned.

Wen Chen curled his fingers, a subtle bitterness rising in his heart. "There's a piano in the apartment?" He glanced around the dimly lit living room, his tone unreadable, but his eyes softened slightly.

"Yes, it's in the second bedroom. It's covered with a dust cover." Gu Moheng rubbed his hands nervously, "I was afraid you'd think I was doing it on purpose..." He had originally planned to wait until Wen Chen truly accepted him back before removing the cover.

A brief silence fell over the air, broken only by the soft crackling of the burning candle, much like the anxious beating of Gu Moheng's heart.

A few seconds later, Wen Chen suddenly stood up and, to Gu Moheng's astonishment, picked up the brightest candle on the coffee table. The flame flickered violently with his movement.

He looked down at Gu Moheng, his eyes behind his glasses gleaming with a light that Gu Moheng couldn't understand, his voice low and seductive, "Play now."

Gu Moheng froze, glancing instinctively at the pitch-black surroundings. "Now? But there's a power outage..."

"What's wrong?" Wen Chen leaned forward slightly, holding up the candle. The firelight illuminated half of his face, giving his cool demeanor a captivating allure. His breath almost touched Gu Moheng's forehead. "Is the candlelight not bright enough?"

Gu Moheng understood his unfinished words, his throat tightened, and he suddenly stood up: "Enough."

The candlelight cast long, flickering shadows on the corridor walls, much like the tangled emotions of the two. Wen Chen, protecting the faint flame, followed Gu Moheng into the second bedroom.

He had never set foot in this room during his stay. The room was empty, except for a huge object standing in the very center, completely covered by a gray dust cloth.

The rain was still falling outside the window, pattering against the glass and adding a touch of desolation to the quiet night.

Gu Moheng stepped forward, his slender fingers grasping a corner of the dust cloth, and forcefully lifted it. Dust swirled in the beam of light, revealing a black grand piano in the candlelight, its lacquered surface reflecting a cold yet elegant luster.

Wen Chen walked over and gently placed the half-burnt candle on the black piano lid. The candlelight flickered steadily.

"Sit down." Wen Chen raised his chin slightly, gesturing to the black piano stool.

Gu Moheng obediently sat down, his hands hovering above the black and white piano keys, but his fingertips hesitated for a moment before falling.

Wen Chen crossed her arms and leaned against the side of the piano, her gaze falling on his right hand, which was wrapped in thick bandages. Her tone was calm but contained concern: "Can you play with your right hand?"

Gu Moheng lowered his eyes, "...Slower is fine."

Wen Chen didn't speak, but just looked at him quietly, her gaze like an invisible spotlight.

Gu Moheng took a deep breath, adjusted his posture, and finally lowered his fingers.

The first note rang out, the first movement of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." There was no dazzling virtuoso opening, only a steady melody flowing slowly. Gu Moheng's expression was very focused, the candlelight casting a warm yellow shadow on his profile, outlining his high nose and tightly pursed thin lips.

His hands seemed clumsy on the piano keys, especially his right hand, which was slightly stiff due to the gauze binding it. Every time he touched a key with a slightly larger span, you could see a barely perceptible frown between his brows.

But he never stopped, and Wen Chen listened quietly, her gaze falling on his serious profile. The coldness in her eyes gradually melted away, revealing a gentleness that was barely perceptible.

As the song ended, the last note trembled and dissipated in the air, leaving a lingering resonance.

Gu Moheng slowly withdrew his hand, lowering his head and not daring to look Wen Chen in the eye. "...I'm rusty." His voice was filled with annoyance. "Several parts were out of rhythm, and my fingering was messed up." He wanted to be perfect in front of Wen Chen, but he just couldn't help but reveal his flaws.

"Yes, indeed." Wen Chen's voice rang out calmly, pointing out the facts without any mercy, "There are also a few wrong notes, and the volume is not enough."

Gu Moheng's eyes dimmed instantly.

“But…” Wen Chen’s tone suddenly softened as she changed the subject.

Gu Moheng looked up and met those eyes that seemed especially gentle in the candlelight.

“The emotions are right.” Wen Chen straightened up, took long strides, and walked step by step to Gu Moheng’s side.

Before Gu Moheng could react, he felt the piano stool next to him sink slightly, and Wen Chen sat down directly.

The piano bench wasn't wide to begin with, and the two adult men's bodies were instantly pressed together. Shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg. Wen Chen's body heat emanated from through their thin shirts.

"Here." Wen Chen suddenly reached out her left hand, across Gu Moheng's body. Her arm brushed against his chest, her long, slender, white fingers hovering for a moment in the high register of the piano before gently pressing down.

"bite--"

A clear and bright single note instantly pierced the dull air.

"It should be upgraded to C."

Wen Chen turned his head, their faces almost touching, their breaths nearly mingling. Gu Moheng could even count his extremely long eyelashes and see the two tiny flames dancing in his pupils.

Gu Moheng's Adam's apple bobbed violently, his voice hoarse: "...I'll remember."

He stared intently at Wen Chen's thin lips as they parted, using all his strength to suppress the urge to kiss them.

Wen Chen, however, seemed oblivious to his odd behavior. She casually withdrew her hand, but her body remained still, maintaining their close, intimate posture. She looked at him with a sly smile in her eyes: "Since you passed this round," she said, lightly tapping the black piano surface with her fingertips, producing a crisp, tinkling sound, "then let's continue the game we were playing."

"What other secrets are there?"

Gu Moheng's breath hitched. He looked at Wen Chen, who was so close to him, at that face that seemed somewhat unreal in the candlelight. The close proximity made his rational defenses crumble, and he completely forgot that this turn should have been Wen Chen's.

“I…I get up half an hour earlier than you every day.”

Wen Chen raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this answer. "To make breakfast?"

"Also, in order to..." Gu Moheng closed his eyes, speaking rapidly as if he were going all out, "so that I can see you a little longer."

Wen Chen was stunned for a moment.

Gu Moheng looked down at his bandaged hand and said in a voice barely audible, "I know you don't lock the door when you sleep. I just stand outside the door and watch you through that crack."

Wen Chen looked at him, her expression somewhat subtle, "A peeping tom?"

"Just one glance!"

Gu Moheng hurriedly explained, afraid that Wen Chen would think he was a pervert, "I've never gone in! I left immediately after I finished looking..."

The air was still for a few seconds.

A very soft laugh suddenly rang out in the dimly lit room.

Gu Moheng looked up in surprise and saw Wen Chen with her face slightly tilted back, a smile playing on her lips. The smile rippled in the flickering candlelight, so soft it was almost unbelievable, like a feather gently brushing across his barren heart.

It's not mockery, it's not disgust.

It is pure, pleasing tenderness.

“President Gu,” Wen Chen shook his head with a smile, pushing up his glasses, “you’re so pathetic.”