Chapter 29 Testing the Waters, Taking Another Step
The night in the safe house was eerily quiet, with only moonlight filtering through the curtains like shards of silver, casting long, thin shadows on the floor. The occasional rumble of a passing truck could be heard in the distance, quickly swallowed by the darkness, leaving only the faint scent of herbs floating in the air—the smell that Zhang Qiling had picked up from his sleeves while sorting herbs during the day, mixed with a hint of lingering desert dust, which was particularly clear in the enclosed room.
Hei Xiazi lay on his side, his back against the soft pillow, but his gaze never left Zhang Qiling, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. The man's back was ramrod straight, his hands resting on his knees, his eyelids closed, but his fingertips unconsciously rubbed the seam of his trousers—Hei Xiazi was all too familiar with this little gesture; it was Zhang Qiling's habit when he was keeping an eye on his surroundings. He seemed to be resting, but in reality, his ears were already perked up, and he could detect even the slightest movement of the Passat outside the window.
“Dumb,” Black Bear suddenly spoke, his voice low and hoarse from just waking up in the night, unlike his teasing tone during the day, “My left shoulder… hurts a little.”
Zhang Qiling's eyelids opened almost instantly, his eyes still holding a lingering wariness, but softened quickly when he looked at Hei Xiazi. He didn't immediately bend down, but instead reached for the nightlight by the bedside. His fingertips paused on the light cord, then released it—afraid the light would be too bright and disturb the people outside the window. In the end, he simply moved slowly to Hei Xiazi's side by moonlight, his knees lightly brushing against the edge of the bed, his movements as gentle as if afraid of breaking something.
"He said he was fine when you changed the dressing during the day." Zhang Qiling's voice was colder than the night air, yet it carried an imperceptible tension. He first hovered his hand above Hei Xiazi's shoulder to confirm the location of the wound, then gently touched the edge of the gauze with his fingertip—there was no bleeding, and no fever, but he was still worried. His fingertip followed the texture of the gauze, moving upwards little by little, avoiding the tightest bandage. "Did it tear? Or does it hurt inside?"
“I don’t know,” Hei Xiazi said, raising his uninjured hand and gently grasping Zhang Qiling’s wrist. His fingertips brushed against the skin on Zhang Qiling’s wrist bone—it was cool but slightly sweaty, probably because he had been watching over him all day and keeping an eye on the cars outside the window without daring to relax. “Take a closer look. The moonlight is too dim; I can’t touch it myself.”
Zhang Qiling hesitated for a moment, his gaze sweeping over Hei Xiazi's eyes—the sunglasses had long been placed on the bedside table, and now those eyes shone brightly in the moonlight, carrying a familiar cunning, yet also concealing a hint of seriousness. He didn't pull away from the hand gripping his wrist, but simply leaned forward slightly, bringing his face even closer—close enough that Hei Xiazi could see the faint shadow cast by his eyelashes beneath his eyes, smell the herbal scent mixed with his breath, and feel his body temperature emanating through the thin shirt.
"Now." Hei Xiazi smiled inwardly. Before Zhang Qiling could examine him more carefully, he gently exerted force with his wrist, using the momentum of his body to pull Zhang Qiling down onto the bed. He moved quickly, but he didn't forget his shoulder. When he fell, he deliberately made sure that the injured side was off the bed, only using the uninjured side to support himself, firmly pressing Zhang Qiling down beneath him.
“You—” Zhang Qiling’s pupils suddenly contracted, and his body stiffened instantly, but he did not push him immediately. His hand instinctively rose, but did not land on Hei Xiazi’s back. Instead, it hovered in mid-air, his fingers slightly curled—afraid that if he pushed him, he would touch Hei Xiazi’s wound.
Hei Xiazi chuckled softly, his warm breath brushing against Zhang Qiling's ear, carrying a faint scent of tobacco. "What are you pretending for? During the day, when you were watching over me while I changed my dressings, your eyes never left my shoulder. And at night, you sat there without sleeping, weren't you waiting for me to talk to you?" His hand wasn't idle; it slid down Zhang Qiling's wrist, his fingertips brushing against his palm, and then gently slipped inside his clothes—the moment it touched the skin on his waist, he felt Zhang Qiling's muscles tense instantly.
"The injury hasn't healed yet." Zhang Qiling's voice was a little hoarse. He grabbed Hei Xiazi's mischievous hand, but the force was not strong; it was more like a stop than a resistance. The tips of his ears were faintly red in the moonlight, and the skin along his neck and collarbone was tinged with a thin pink.
“The injury hasn’t healed yet, but that doesn’t affect this.” Hei Xiazi moved even closer, his lips almost touching Zhang Qiling’s earlobe. “Or… are you afraid?” He gently nudged Zhang Qiling’s crotch with his knee, and could feel the other’s body stiffen even more. The hand gripping his tightened a bit, but he still didn’t push him away.
Unexpectedly, Zhang Qiling suddenly moved. He twisted his waist slightly, taking advantage of the moment when Hei Xiazi hadn't exerted enough force, and wrapped his arm around Hei Xiazi's waist—his fingers deliberately avoiding the injured shoulder, only gripping the uninjured side of his waist, and then with a little force, he flipped the two of them over.
The movements were as fast as a gust of wind, yet incredibly steady. Hei Xiazi lay beneath Zhang Qiling, feeling his weight pressing down on him, but it wasn't heavy at all—he was clearly controlling his strength, afraid of aggravating his wounds. Zhang Qiling's face was very close to his, his breathing erratic, and his eyes no longer held their usual coldness, but rather seemed to hold a small flame, dazzling the eye.
"Stop fooling around." Zhang Qiling's voice was even lower than before, with a barely perceptible panting in it. He pressed his fingers against Hei Xiazi's chest to prevent him from moving around any further. "There are still people watching outside."
Hei Xiazi ignored him, instead tilting his head back and leaning closer, his lips gently brushing against Zhang Qiling's Adam's apple—where he was still swallowing softly, with a slightly warm touch. He deliberately bit down lightly with his teeth, and Zhang Qiling's body trembled violently, his hand on his chest shaking as well.
“The people outside have been keeping us occupied all day, a little longer won’t make a difference.” Black Bear chuckled, his hands starting to wander again, tracing the hem of Zhang Qiling’s clothes upwards until he touched her shoulder blade—there was an old scar there, left from last year’s fight with the zombies in Changbai Mountain, which Black Bear had bandaged back then. His fingertips lightly brushed against the scar. “You forgot? Last year in Changbai Mountain, it was even more dangerous than this, and you didn’t stop me…”
"Black Bear." Zhang Qiling called him by his full name, her voice carrying a hint of warning, but the hand pressing on his chest loosened its grip slightly. His neck was already bright red, even the back of his ears were pink, and the panic in his eyes was far more than his coldness—he had never been good at dealing with Black Bear's direct intimacy, especially in such a quiet and private night.
Black Bear pressed his advantage, his lips moving down along the man's Adam's apple, gently biting open two buttons on his collar—slowly, patiently, afraid of hurting him. On the exposed collarbone, a faint scar from last year could still be seen; he lowered his head and placed a warm, wet kiss on that scar.
"Hmm..." Zhang Qiling's breathing became even more erratic, and his body involuntarily leaned closer to Hei Xiazi, his fingers gripping the hem of Hei Xiazi's clothes tightly until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to pull away, but he couldn't bear to—this kind of closeness was something he usually didn't dare to ask for; only when Hei Xiazi so directly approached him did he dare to relax a little.
Just then, a cough came from next door—it was Wu Xie's voice, a little hoarse, as if he had coughed accidentally because he was tired from organizing the documents.
The two of them froze instantly.
Black Bear was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help but chuckle, keeping his voice low so as not to be heard by the neighbors: "Young Master San's cough came at just the right time—do you think he did it on purpose?"
Zhang Qiling's face instantly turned even redder, as if he had been caught red-handed. He immediately got off Hei Xiazi. He moved quickly, but he still remembered to hold Hei Xiazi's shoulder first to make sure he hadn't touched the wound before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He hurriedly fastened the unbuttoned clothes—his fingers were trembling, and he missed the buttonholes several times.
Black Bear didn't let him go, reaching out to grab the hem of his clothes, preventing him from finishing tying them: "Why are you running away? Weren't you being quite well-behaved just now? I haven't kissed you enough yet."
The moonlight fell directly on Zhang Qiling's neck, where the hickey he had just left was clearly visible, like a pale red flower. He didn't turn around, his voice as low as a mosquito's buzz: "Stop fooling around, Wuxie is still next door."
"So what if Wu Xie is next door? We didn't do anything out of line. Or is it that you've always liked Wu Xie?" Hei Xiazi asked jealously, and Zhang Qiling immediately replied, "It's not that there aren't any, it's only you. I only like you, you're not soundproof, and you're injured." Hei Xiazi tugged at his sleeve and gently pulled him closer. "That's more like it. Besides, you didn't resist just now—do you actually like him quite a bit?"
Zhang Qiling's body stiffened, and he finally slowly turned around. The tips of his ears were still red, but his eyes were softer than before, the previous panic gone, replaced by a hint of helplessness. He looked at Hei Xiazi, remained silent for a long while, and then whispered, "Wait until you're healed."
Those three words made Hei Xiazi's eyes light up instantly. He immediately leaned closer, almost touching Zhang Qiling's face: "Wait until I'm healed? Does that mean... I can do whatever I want then?"
Zhang Qiling didn't answer, but nodded slightly—the movement was so light it was almost invisible, yet enough to satisfy Hei Xiazi. He finally released his grip on the hem of Zhang Qiling's clothes, watching Zhang Qiling continue buttoning his shirt, a smile he couldn't suppress.
After buttoning his shirt, Zhang Qiling didn't sit back down on the bed. Instead, he got up and headed to the kitchen—he was going to get Hei Xiazi a glass of water; after all that commotion, Hei Xiazi must be thirsty. As he reached the kitchen doorway, he couldn't help but glance back at Hei Xiazi on the bed. The other man was smiling at him, his eyes shining like stars. He quickly turned back, his ears burning again, and his steps quickened as if he were fleeing.
Hei Xiazi lay on the bed, watching Zhang Qiling's flustered back, and couldn't help but laugh out loud. The pain in his shoulder seemed to have really lessened a lot, and even the tension from the night had dissipated considerably. He reached out and touched the chest where Zhang Qiling had pressed earlier, still able to feel the warmth of the other's fingertips, and his heart melted completely.
At the kitchen doorway, Zhang Qiling leaned against the wall, holding a water glass, and took a deep breath. He looked down at his hand—the hand that had been gripping Hei Xiazi's clothes—which was still slightly warm. He raised his hand to touch his neck, where Hei Xiazi's kiss mark still lingered, the warm touch feeling like it was etched into his skin, impossible to wipe away.
Outside the window, the black Passat remained parked in the same spot, with no movement inside. But Zhang Qiling wasn't so concerned at the moment—as long as Hei Xiazi was by his side, no matter how dangerous the outside world was, it didn't seem so scary anymore.
He carried the water glass and slowly walked back to the bedroom, handing it to Hei Xiazi. His fingertips accidentally touched Hei Xiazi's lips, and the warm touch made him immediately pull his hand back, but he didn't avoid Hei Xiazi's gaze.
“Dumb,” Black Bear took the water cup, took a sip, and looked at him with a smile, “Next time, don’t wait until I’m healed, you can do it now…”
"No." Zhang Qiling interrupted him, but her voice wasn't as cold anymore. "Your wound hasn't healed yet, you can't cause any more trouble."
Black Bear didn't refute, he just smiled and nodded, but in his heart he was already planning - once he recovered, he would definitely make up for everything he hadn't finished tonight.
As night deepened, the lights in the safe house slowly dimmed. Zhang Qiling sat back on the edge of the bed, gently placing his hand on Hei Xiazi's wrist—both to monitor his temperature and to keep an eye on the movements outside the window. Hei Xiazi leaned against the pillow, looking at Zhang Qiling's profile, and slowly closed his eyes.
That night, there were no nightmares, only the warmth of the people around him and the faint scent of herbs in the air, which kept him company until dawn.
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