AAUMOBIP C40

Chapter 40

【Jiang Yi: ?】

【Jiang Yi: Really?】

【Jiang Yi: He hasn’t been posting on Weibo much lately… could he really have someone else now?】

【Jiang Yi: By the way, did he give you Intimate Pay? If yes, you should buy some “toys” and see how he reacts.】

Liu He had very little knowledge in this area, so he asked humbly:

【fon: What kind of toys?】

【Jiang Yi: Fun toys, obviously】

【Jiang Yi: You may not have raised pigs, but you’ve eaten pork before, right?】

【Jiang Yi: Even if you’ve never used toys, you’ve seen them in films, haven’t you?】

【Jiang Yi: Just buy the kind you saw in those films】

Toys…

Liu He suddenly recalled what had happened that night when he was drunk, and almost told Jiang Yi about it.

But still—Jiang Yi’s suggestion… did make sense.

Buy something and watch Yun-ge’s reaction?

A mischievous idea instantly sparked in Liu He’s mind.

Since he had no knowledge of such things, he began secretly researching online—guides, store listings—staring at endless arrays of products until everything blurred together. He couldn’t tell what to choose, or which would trigger Yun the most.

At last, he panicked back to his friend.

【fon: The toys you mentioned…】

【fon: How should I choose?】

【Jiang Yi: Well, what’s your goal? Do you want him to repent, or do you want him jealous?】

At that, Liu He admitted Jiang Yi’s suspicions were just teasing.

【fon: Actually, our relationship is good. I’m not insecure】

【fon: But he’s been too busy. Last time I visited, he refused to… you know】

【fon: I just want him to pay more attention to me】

【Jiang Yi: Ha! You tricked me】

【Jiang Yi: I figured you two were fine. How could Yun suddenly have someone else?】

【Jiang Yi: So, is he the jealous type?】

Thinking back to the “carrot incident”, Liu realized Yun was very jealous. He’d only allowed it once. Afterward, he never mentioned carrots again. Given Yun’s personality, that itself proved he disliked it.

Instantly, Jiang Yi’s remark struck like lightning.

Liu now knew exactly what to buy.

【fon: Thanks】

【fon: I get it now】

He only wanted Yun to notice him more.

Yun had never canceled the shared Intimate Pay card, and Liu still had it tucked in his wallet.

Doing such a thing for the first time, Liu was nervous.

He filled his shopping cart with carefully selected toys.

Since Yun adored costumes, Liu threw in a set of those too. The rest were “small toys.” Most were insertion-types, a few external only.

Finished, his cart showed thirty items.

Hovering over the checkout button, he froze.

Buying sex toys with someone else’s payment method? Far too embarrassing.

But—he steeled himself.

After thirty minutes of mental preparation, he placed the order, using Yun’s Intimate Pay to pay.

Immediately afterward, he flung his phone onto the sofa like it burned, pretending he had done nothing.

The phone now sat across the room, an ominous reminder.

Yun must be busy filming. Surely, he hadn’t noticed yet.

But every few seconds, Liu glanced at the device, too terrified to touch it.

This alone was thrilling. If Yun did see it—

He remembered the drama over buying clothes for Jiang Yi. If Yun retaliated with more toys…

Just one Liu He in this world—could he handle that?

Regret pricked him. Should he cancel the order?

But too late—Yun would already have been notified. Cancel or not, Yun would still see what he’d bought.

Liu’s feelings tangled badly. Half eager for Yun’s reaction, half desperate for him never to know.

On edge until nightfall, he refreshed the order—status: shipped.

Oddly, that gave him some calm.

Dinner time: while eating his own home-cooked food, his phone rang.

Almost automatically, he answered Yun’s video call.

Yun’s face appeared on-screen. Reflexively, Liu smiled: “Yun-ge, have you eaten?”

“Vibration, heating, telescoping, remote play…” Yun read aloud, one word at a time.

With each word, Liu He’s face flushed deeper. His gaze darted away.

“Am I… not good enough? Why did Xiao He buy all this?” Yun’s tone carried grievance.

Liu buried his face into his bowl, pretending not to hear.

But Yun continued softly: “I know I’ve been busy. I’m sorry I ignored you, didn’t satisfy you. But… would these things really please you?

If you want it, just ask. No matter how hard it is, I’ll fulfill anything for you.”

His voice grew more pitiful with each sentence.

Liu was speechless.

The food on his chopsticks tasteless, he peeked up cautiously at the screen. Yun stared straight at him.

“Xiao He…”

“…”

Liu didn’t know what to say. He just wanted Yun’s attention, not to admit such a motive. Yun was busy working—it felt childish.

Blinking rapidly, he stayed silent.

At last, Yun said gently: “I understand.”

Liu was stunned. Understand what?

“I will work harder, to be a qualified lover.”

He really looked aggrieved.

“…I miss you,” Liu whispered.

He wanted Yun’s care, his companionship. He wanted him near.

“I miss you too.” Yun sighed softly. “Finish dinner, then rest early.”

The call ended.

But how could Liu sleep? His heart ached from the clear disappointment in Yun’s voice.

Stuffing down a few bites, mechanically cleaning up, showering—lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling wide-awake.

In his mind replayed Yun’s look, over and over.

Did Yun hate that he bought toys? Was he disappointed in him?

He opened the shopping app. Such private items weren’t eligible for “no-reason return.”

He had only wanted to tease Yun, spark a reaction. Yet instead, he’d backfired.

With a sigh, he opened their chat, composing:

【fon: Sorry. Those weren’t for me.】

【fon: Are you angry?】

【Husband: No】

【Husband: Why not use them? Isn’t it wasteful to hide what you bought?】

【Husband: If anyone should apologize, it’s me—for failing to see your needs】

【Husband: Rest early. I’ll call you when I get a chance】

…Was that really it?

Liu still felt odd. But at least, with Yun’s reassurance, he finally slept.

Days passed. The toys arrived. Yet Yun never mentioned them again.

It was as if the incident had been buried.

Embarrassed, Liu hid them in a storage box deep in the wardrobe—out of sight, out of mind.

Jiang Yi’s “method” had accomplished nothing.

Their rhythm returned: messages, occasional calls. Silence all around the “toys.”

Time soon leapt to January. Bitter cold settled in.

It was nearly Liu He’s birthday.

Bundled in a red down jacket, he stood by the street, waiting for the vendor’s fried starch sausage. His breath made little clouds in the frigid air, hands buried in pockets.

The vendor called kindly: “Only one, classmate? One for three yuan, two for five.”

“One’s enough.” Liu smiled faintly.

There was no one to share a second with.

Jiang Yi had gone off traveling with his professor, learning the ways of the world.

Leaving school, Liu had spotted the stand, tempted into buying one. Street-fried starch sausages were most authentic fresh from the oil—skin blistering crisp, inside gooey and steaming, fragrant with wheat starch.

Rolled in chili powder, the vendor’s spice was sharp and aromatic. Liu loved it.

Soon his sausage was ready.

“Here you are. Careful, it’s hot. Don’t drip oil on your clothes.”

“Thanks.” Liu paid, taking it gingerly—one pocket-hand shoved back into his jacket, the other hand clutching his prize on the walk home.

One bite—scalding, but heavenly.

By the time he reached home, it was gone. He tossed the paper into the trash and got into the elevator.

At the eighth floor, he opened 1801 with his fingerprint.

Winter cold bit keen high up. Stepping inside, he expected to shiver. Instead, warm air rushed over him.

Odd. He never used the heater. Southern buildings had no central heating.

Broken air-conditioning?

That was his first thought.

Entering, he changed shoes by the door—then froze.

An extra pair of leather shoes in the rack. A pair of slippers missing.

Someone was inside.

Heart leaping, joy overtook him. He called eagerly: “Yun-ge? You should’ve told me you were coming!”

“I could’ve prepared something!” He hurried inside, scanning rooms.

Not in the living room. Not in the kitchen.

The bedroom door was shut tight. He opened it—and sure enough, Yun was fast asleep in the bed. His entrance hadn’t roused him.

Inside, the air conditioner hummed.

Why turn on both living room and bedroom units? Wasteful. Liu cursed in his heart, flipping the living room one off.

On the bed, Yun’s face was serene, sunken deep into slumber.

Slipping off his jacket, Liu approached carefully, gazing at him tenderly. He reached out, then stopped—afraid to disturb his rest. Silently, he stood at the bedside, watching.

Yun had been so busy. Rest this deep was rare. Just last night, he’d been filming still. To show up here today—he must have sacrificed precious rest.