Chapter 32 For the stars is what I see...

Two hours later, Wen Mu was so tired that he couldn't move his fingers.

She shouldn't have hired him. She knew how energetic he would be in the morning, but she still overestimated her abilities.

The black T-shirt she wore when she took the photo last time was still at home, so Song Xingran took out a similar one from the closet, put it on her, kissed her through the clothes, and when there was no good place left on the clothes, he took them off again.

Wen Mu could respond to his kiss at first, but in the end she could only let the man control her.

After finishing, Song Xingran pulled out the pillow under her waist and threw it to the ground.

Wen Mu frowned, not even having the energy to ask "why", he could only express his confusion with his eyes.

"If I don't throw it away, you'll put the pillow in the middle again." The man lay down confidently and locked her in his arms from behind. "It's uncomfortable to hold her."

He was so close that Wen Mu could almost feel his still-beating heartbeat. Song Xingran's arms were across her waist, his legs wrapped around hers like vines strangling a tree, leaving no room for closure. His warm breath on the back of her neck stirred a small shiver.

"Loosen up a bit." Wen Mu protested drowsily.

Song Xingran tightened his arms: "No."

Outside the window, the Brussels sunlight shines through the gauze curtains, casting golden fragments all over the ground.

Wen Mu's last thought before falling asleep was that he might not be able to keep this T-shirt.

*

Wen Mu was awakened by the kiss of the sun.

She opened her eyes drowsily, and found that the curtains had been half-opened. The evening sunlight of Brussels slanted onto the bed, dyeing the dark grey sheets golden.

She subconsciously reached out to touch her side, but it was empty again.

The sound of water came from the bathroom. Wen Mu supported himself with his arms and slowly sat up. His whole body felt sore and weak as if it had been taken apart and reassembled.

She looked down at the black T-shirt that was obviously too big for her. The neckline was tilted, revealing one shoulder, and the hem barely covered her thighs.

The sound of water stopped, the bathroom door was opened, and Song Xingran came out wiping his hair. He was only wearing a pair of sports shorts, and water droplets slid into the waistband along the grooves of his abdominal muscles.

Seeing that she was awake, the man smiled and said, "Did you sleep well, Teacher Wen?"

Wen Mu didn't answer, but just squinted at him, like a cat basking in the sun.

Song Xingran came over, knelt on one knee on the bed, leaned over and kissed her forehead: "Get up, I'll take you out to play."

"What time is it?" Wen Mu's voice was still sleepy.

"Five o'clock in the afternoon." Song Xingran took out a pair of sports shorts from the closet. "If you don't get up now, it will be dark soon."

Wen Mu slowly lifted the quilt and stepped barefoot on the carpet. Song Xingran's T-shirt looked like a short skirt on her, swaying with her movements.

The man squatted down, motioned her to lift her feet, and helped her put on her shorts. The waistband was a circle too big, so Song Xingran found a shoelace and deftly tied it through the belt loop.

"Raise your hand."

Wen Mu raised her arms and asked Song Xingran to help her adjust her T-shirt.

The collar was still too big, revealing one collarbone and the distinct kiss mark on it.

The man's fingertips stayed there for a second, then moved away as if nothing had happened, picked up the glasses on the bedside table, and carefully placed them on her nose.

"Are you going out?" Wen Mu rubbed his eyes, his pupils glistening with tears behind the lenses.

Song Xingran looked at her confused look and felt completely soft-hearted: "Well, I'll take you out to play."

Brussels was breathtakingly beautiful at dusk. As they left the hotel, the setting sun was hanging over the Atomium, casting a golden hue on the iconic building.

The buildings on both sides of the street cast long shadows in the setting sun, and the sweet aroma of waffles wafted in the air.

Song Xingran held Wen Mu's hand, interlocking their fingers. Wen Mu's fingertips were slightly cool, and he completely wrapped them in his palm.

"Where to go first?" Wen Mu asked.

She wore his clothes like a child who had stolen adult clothes. Her trouser legs were rolled up in several folds, and the waistband of her trousers, which was tied with shoelaces, swayed when she walked.

Looking at her like this, Song Xingran couldn't help but pinch her fingers: "City Hall Square."

The square was packed with people, and the Gothic buildings shimmered in the setting sun. Song Xingran escorted Wen Mu through the crowd, occasionally lowering his head to whisper in her ear about the history of the buildings. Wen Mu looked up at the exquisite sculptures, her eyes sparkling.

"You know a lot," she commented.

Song Xingran shrugged: "I've been to a few competitions."

He paused, then added, "I've always wanted to bring you here."

Wen Mu turned to look at him. The man's profile was very handsome. The setting sun fell on the bridge of his nose, and his whole body was warm.

She suddenly remembered something and took out her phone from his pocket: "Take a picture?"

Song Xingran raised an eyebrow: "Teacher Wen actually asked to take a photo?"

Wen Mu ignored his teasing and raised his phone to point at the two of them. Song Xingran lowered his head in cooperation, and the moment she pressed the shutter, he suddenly turned around and kissed her on the cheek.

"Song Xingran!" Wen Mu stared at his own surprised expression and triumphant smile on the screen.

The man blinked innocently: "What's wrong? Aren't you going to take a picture?"

Wen Mu stuffed the phone back into his pocket and decided to ignore him. Song Xingran smiled, put his arm around her shoulders, and led her to the Manneken Pis statue on the other side of the square.

The statue was crowded with tourists. The famous mischievous boy was wearing an astronaut costume. Wen Mu couldn't see clearly even on tiptoe, so Song Xingran simply hugged her waist from behind and lifted her up.

"Ah!" Wen Mu screamed briefly and subconsciously grabbed his arm, "Put me down!"

"Did you see it clearly?" Song Xingran looked up and asked her, holding her steadily in his arms.

Wen Mu looked down at him and saw his thick eyelashes and smiling eyes.

She nodded gently: "I see it clearly."

Song Xingran put her down, but he didn't take his hand away. Instead, he held her hand and said, "Let's go. I'll take you to eat chocolate."

They walked through winding alleys, where shop windows were filled with exquisite lace and pewter. There was a long line outside a chocolate shop, and Song Xingran asked Wen Mu to wait on a bench while he ran to join the queue.

The man's tall figure was squeezed and twisted among a group of tourists, and Wen Mu couldn't help laughing.

Ten minutes later, Song Xingran returned with two chocolate waffles piled high with whipped cream and strawberries. Wen Mu took one and carefully licked the cream off the waffles.

"Is it delicious?" Song Xingran asked, his eyes falling on the corner of her mouth stained with cream.

Wen Mu nodded and was about to answer when her thumb was suddenly grasped. The man lowered his head, swiping his tongue over the chocolate on her fingertips, then continued eating his waffle as if nothing had happened.

She said calmly, "I didn't wash my hands."

The man grinned: "It's okay. I'm not afraid of getting sick."

As the sky gradually darkened, the lights in the square gradually lit up.

A street artist called out to them: "Hey! Want to paint a portrait of that beautiful lady?"

Song Xingran looked at Wen Mu, who shook her head slightly, but he had already pulled her over: "Paint."

The painter asked Wen Mu to sit on a small stool. Song Xingran stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. The painter's charcoal pencil scratched on the paper, and he looked up from time to time at Wen Mu. The man's gaze gradually turned cold, and his fingers tightened on Wen Mu's shoulder.

"Don't be so fierce." Wen Mu whispered, reaching out to cover the back of his hand.

It was clearly his intention to paint it, but now the painter was staring at her and he was not happy about it.

He's just like a child, changing his expression faster than turning the pages of a book.

The painter quickly completed the sketch. In the painting, Wen Mu was wearing glasses and had a serene expression. Behind him, Song Xingran only showed half of his face, but his eyes were incredibly gentle.

"Your wife is very beautiful." The painter handed the painting to Song Xingran, "You are very lucky."

Song Xingran's expression softened, and he gave a big tip when he paid: "I know."

When we left the painter's stall, night had already fallen.

Song Xingran took Wen Mu to his favorite restaurant, tucked away in a quiet alley. The restaurant was small, but beautifully decorated, with fresh roses on every table.

"How many times have you been here?" Wen Mu asked Song Xingran, who was ordering skillfully.

Song Xingran looked up: "Twice. Once after winning the championship, and once..."

He paused, "Last birthday."

Wen Mu understood.

This time last year, they didn't know each other. One studied the trajectory of the stars, the other the speed of life. And now, they share a dinner table, in the Brussels night.

The dishes were delicious. Song Xingran specially ordered the beef stewed in red wine and the local specialty clams. Wen Mu sipped the food and nodded from time to time.

When the waiter brought the dessert menu, Song Xingran looked at her and said, "Would you like to try the chocolate lava?"

Wen Mu remembered that when they first got married, she lied to him that she liked chocolate.

She rarely eats sweets, but today she nodded: "Okay."

The dessert arrived quickly. Wen Mu gently poked open the cake crust with a spoon, and rich chocolate sauce flowed out.

She took a bite and her eyes widened slightly: "Delicious."

The man looked at her satisfied expression and smiled brightly. He reached out to wipe the chocolate sauce from the corner of her mouth, then naturally put his finger into his mouth.

Wen Mu froze, the spoon hanging in the air.

"What's wrong?" Song Xingran asked innocently, "I washed my hands."

Wen Mu's mind flashed back to the scene at KFC. After a moment, he replied, "It's okay if you don't wash it."

Wait, she seemed to have said the same thing last night.

Wen Mu stopped talking and continued eating cake with his head down.

It was late at night when we left the restaurant. The streets of Brussels were quiet, with only the occasional passing car and the sparse pedestrians. The night sky was dotted with stars, and the lights of the Atomium in the distance looked like a diamond necklace.

It seemed like within a second, the man touched her hand from time to time and quickly wrapped it around her.

They walked back to the hotel slowly, hand in hand.

On the way back, there was a small bridge. Wen Mu stopped on the bridge and looked up at the starry sky.

"You can see Jupiter." She whispered, pointing somewhere in the sky.

Song Xingran looked in the direction of her finger and saw only a field of twinkling stars: "Which one?"

Wen Mu gently took his hand and pointed his index finger at the night sky: "The brightest one, with a pale yellow glow."

She was half a head shorter than him. She leaned against his chest and guided his finger to draw a thin line. "That's its trajectory."

The man lowered his head and looked at her focused profile, his heart beating faster.

At this moment, the person in my arms is like a child sharing a secret, with the entire starry sky in his eyes.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Wen Mu looked up and asked him.

"Yes, she is the most beautiful I have ever seen."

He answered softly, his eyes filled with her.

The man lowered his head, took two steps forward, but stopped, turned back, gently took her hand, and slowly interlocked their fingers.

"Let's go, Teacher Wen."

Wen Mu was stunned for a moment, then tightened his fingers, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but rise.

"What are you laughing at?" Song Xingran asked.

She shook her head: "Nothing."

Song Xingran didn't say anything else, but just scratched her palm lightly with his fingers, like a cat acting coquettishly.

He thought this was great.

He likes it very much.

The night breeze in Brussels is gentle, carrying the scent of chocolate and flowers.

They held hands and walked past one street lamp after another, their shadows gradually blending together and becoming indistinguishable from each other.

*

When Wen Mu returned to her hotel room, she noticed her phone lying quietly on the bedside table. She picked it up and pressed the side button, but the screen went dark.

It has been turned off since it received the "life-saving call" last night.

"Use my charging cable." Song Xingran came out of the bathroom and threw her a data cable, with water dripping from the ends of his hair.

Wen Mu took it and charged her phone. When the boot screen came on, she expected to see a screen full of missed calls and messages; after all, she had simply ditched the seminar yesterday and left.

However, surprisingly, there was only one missed call in the notification bar, which showed that it was from Yu Mo before boarding the plane.

"Strange." Wen Mu muttered and called back.

The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up. Yu Mo's abnormally hoarse voice came from the receiver: "Baby, Ningchuan, it's five in the morning. Are you sure you want to call me at this time?"

In the background, there was a faint creaking of the mattress and a muffled voice saying, "Don't bite there, Ning Yuanxi."

Wen Mu's ears felt hot, and the memory of last night suddenly came to her mind. She cleared her throat and said, "Sorry, Momo, I'm interrupting you."

"No, you saved me." Yu Mo's breathing was obviously unstable. "If it weren't for your call, I would have been knocked unconscious by him."

Wen Mu couldn't help but laugh secretly. Song Xingran came up from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, and his wet hair rubbed her neck, making it itchy.

"How was it, baby," Yu Mo lowered her voice, "Did you have a good birthday night?"

Wen Mu was stunned: "How do you know?"

Yu Mo's mischievous laughter came from the other end of the phone: "Your young master is a big intolerant person. Go check your Moments yourself."

Wen Mu turned to look at the man clinging to him, who blinked innocently.

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

"Something's going on in the lab?"

"I'm a little busy. I'm so busy without you for a day that I'm dizzy."

Wen Mu felt the weight on his shoulders suddenly become heavier: "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Okay, baby—" Yu Mo's words stopped abruptly, replaced by a vague whimper and a wet kissing sound.

Wen Mu decisively hung up the phone.

When he turned around, he met Song Xingran's gaze. He didn't know how long he had been staring at her like that.

Her heart beat faster when she was looked at, and she subconsciously touched her neck.

Song Xingran snorted softly: "Teacher Wen, you seem quite engrossed in listening to people being intimate."

"I don't have that." Wen Mu looked away, his fingertips curled around the charging cable.

Silence spread across the room.

Song Xingran suddenly asked, "Are you going back tomorrow?"

His voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing anything.

Wen Mu looked up at him, his flamboyant eyes were quiet, peaceful, and even had a hint of grievance.

"Yeah." She answered softly.

The two looked at each other quietly for a long time.

Wen Mu felt inexplicably guilty, worried that he would be angry or sad - based on Young Master Song's previous temper, he should have pressed her against the wall and asked her "Am I so unimportant?"

"I'll take you there tomorrow." Song Xingran finally said, his tone calm and unlike his usual self.

Wen Mu opened his eyes slightly.

He actually didn't make a fuss?

This unusual thoughtfulness made her feel overwhelmed and she twisted her fingers together. "The project schedule is tight right now, and there are a lot of things to do even if I'm away for just one day."

She paused and added tentatively, "I'll find time to come see you later."

"Don't be angry?"

The man's expression froze for a moment, his mouth tensed, but he quickly relaxed again: "Why should I be angry?"

He turned and walked to the bed, adjusting the quilt with his back to her, the lines of his shoulders faintly visible under his T-shirt.

Wen Mu looked at his back and suddenly felt a tightness in his chest: "Oh, that's even better."

Wouldn't it be better if he just kept quiet, made money and slept?

The man turned off the ceiling light, leaving only a bedside wall lamp on.

He walked back, gently took off Wen Mu's glasses and placed them on the bedside table, then picked her up and carried her sideways.

Wen Mu subconsciously hugged his neck, and the hem of his T-shirt was rolled up to his thighs because of the man's movements.

When she was put on the bed, she naturally thought about what would happen next and took the initiative to lift up her clothes.

The oversized neckline slid to one side as she moved, revealing half of her shoulder and the red mark on her collarbone.

Song Xingran held her hand and stared at her with burning eyes: "What are you doing?"

"What's wrong?" Wen Mu looked at him doubtfully, "You're not going to do it?"

She didn't mind. After not seeing him for a while, his skills had improved. Although she was a little more tired than before, she felt more comfortable.

The man's eyes became sharp, he leaned over her and said in a cold voice: "In your heart, is this all I can do?"

Wen Mu blinked.

Isn’t it? From the time they met until now, isn’t this the most “deep” communication between them?

But she didn't say it out loud, just confirmed again: "Not tonight?"

Song Xingran stared at her for a few seconds, turned over and lay down, pulled her into his arms, and wrapped his arms around her waist like an iron hoop.

"No, sleep."

Wen Mu was confused by his sudden action.

His chest was pressed against her back, and the sound of his heartbeat could be heard through their touching skin, fast and heavy.

She tried to move, and was immediately held tighter.

Song Xingran warned her:

"Don't move."

"If you move again, I'll really do it."

Wen Mu froze immediately.

She could feel the body temperature of the person behind her and a certain presence that could not be ignored, but strangely, Song Xingran was really just hugging her and did not make any other movements.

Gradually, the breathing behind him became steady and long. Wen Mu turned his head cautiously and looked at him in the dim light.

He fell asleep, his brows relaxed, his eyelashes casting a small shadow under his eyes, and he looked much more obedient than when he was awake.

Now he looks like a younger brother.

He was nothing like the man who had pressed on her like a wild animal last night.

She sighed softly, finding a comfortable position in his arms and closing her eyes.

Song Xingran didn't wake up, and subconsciously hugged her tighter, resting his chin on the top of her head, like a dog holding a favorite toy.

I slept unexpectedly deeply.

*

The next morning, Song Xingran drove her to the airport.

The two of them didn't talk much along the way. The car radio was playing cheerful French songs, but the atmosphere in the car was inexplicably solemn.

It’s not like we won’t see each other again.

Wen Mu looked at the man's gloomy expression and gently smoothed his frown.

At the security checkpoint, Wen Mu took the bag from Song Xingran. She only had so much luggage, and the clothes she wore when she arrived were no longer acceptable, so she went back to wearing his T-shirt and shorts.

"Then I'm leaving."

The man nodded and stood there with his hands in his pockets.

Wen Mu turned and walked towards the security checkpoint. Just as she handed her boarding pass to the staff, someone suddenly grabbed her wrist from behind and pulled her back. She stumbled into a familiar embrace and looked up to meet Song Xingran's burning gaze.

"Teacher Wen," he said in a low voice, full of dissatisfaction, "have you forgotten something?"

Wen Mu blinked: "What's the matter?"

Song Xingran didn't answer, but just lowered his head and moved closer, his eyes falling on her lips.

"Goodbye kiss."

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Author's Note: Date Night in Brussels [Starry Eyes] [Starry Eyes]

Zhizhi also started to coax the young master