AAUMOBIP C42

Chapter 42

Liu He returned home with the fried starch sausage and opened the door, only to see Yun Jingqiu standing at the kitchen entrance, wearing a pink apron.

The moment Yun spotted him, a bright smile appeared on his face.

“Wait a little, it’ll be ready soon.”

Liu He handed over the sausage: “Eat it while it’s hot, once the skin softens it won’t be any good.”

“Xiao He, feed me.” Yun pushed his luck.

Though Liu He looked disgusted, he still held up the sausage to feed Yun. Yun bit, finishing it from his hand, then wiped his mouth neatly before returning to the kitchen to keep cooking.

All Liu He had to do was wait for dinner.

Living together with Yun Jingqiu was filled with happiness—Liu He truly enjoyed this kind of daily life.

Soon, his birthday arrived.

That winter had not been terribly cold. No snow fell. With the heating air-conditioner running at home, everything felt cozy.

Yun had long prepared for this day.

Even if it was his birthday, Liu He still needed to be in the lab for experiments. After a morning of work, he left early—because at home, a great beauty awaited him.

Just the thought made Liu He smile unconsciously.

On his way home, he stopped at the school gates, buying two starch sausages, walking back slowly.

The winter term was wrapping up. Finals were finished, and few students remained on campus. Researchers still lingered, work unfinished.

In a few days, official winter break would begin. Unlike before, Liu He had no plans to stay behind at school. Because now, he had a home.

And he could go back to City A together with Yun.

When he opened the apartment door, food aromas immediately enveloped him.

Yun was still busying in the kitchen, but several dishes had already been set.

Following the delicious scent, Liu handed the sausage over to Yun, laughing lightly: “Anything I can help with?”

“The birthday boy just relaxes.” Yun insisted.

“By the way, when are your friends arriving?”

He took the sausage and ate happily. Junk food was truly tasty.

Checking his phone, Liu replied: “On the way. Almost here.”

Jiang Yi had messaged—he was already at the community gate and would arrive any moment. Xu Yi didn’t come with him, only Jiang Yi alone.

Liu He and Xu Yi weren’t very close. Through Jiang Yi they had met a few times, added each other on WeChat, but not to the level of good friends.

Liu left the front door slightly ajar.

Soon came knocking. Jiang Yi’s cheerful voice sang: “Xiao He, I’m here~”

He pushed the door in, changed shoes at the entrance.

Catching sight of his idol Yun Jingqiu, Jiang Yi’s eyes brightened at once. But he held back, merely smiling widely as he greeted politely: “Hello, Yun-ge, I’ve come to celebrate Xiao He’s birthday.”

Liu closed the door.

“This is for you.” Jiang Yi handed over a neatly wrapped box.

Liu accepted, placing it aside, then motioned for him to sit.

Yun remained busy in the kitchen, leaving the two to chat quietly on the sofa.

Before today, Jiang Yi had never imagined he would get to eat a meal cooked by his idol himself. Truly, something to brag about for a lifetime—but he dared not. Protecting his friend and his idol’s privacy mattered more.

Leaning close, Jiang Yi whispered: “So? The trick I told you—it worked, right? See how devoted your boyfriend is now?”

Liu He gave two awkward laughs.

He couldn’t bring himself to mention he’d spent several days barely able to get out of bed.

“These rotten ideas of yours,” he scolded.

Confused, Jiang Yi blinked. “Didn’t it work? It worked perfectly for Old Xu. Thought it’d be the same for your guy. Just hard on the waist though,” he muttered low.

Hard on the waist? It had nearly broken his in half.

All Jiang Yi ever had was terrible advice.

“Anyway, open my gift. I picked it after ages of thinking.” He encouraged.

Obediently, Liu unwrapped the box.

Inside lay a fountain pen.

“You’re headed for the research institute, right? You’ll be logging experiments, recording endless data. No proper pen won’t do,” Jiang Yi explained.

It had cost nearly a thousand yuan—a huge sum to Jiang Yi.

Touched, Liu said softly: “Thank you.”

Scratching his head, Jiang Yi added: “Of course, it can’t compare to what your guy gives you. I even considered sending you toys… but when you didn’t reply last time, I figured he must not like them.”

Not that Yun didn’t like toys—just not the insertion type. In fact, Yun rather liked small toys.

But Liu kept silent. Thankfully Jiang Yi hadn’t given such a gift, or tonight indeed would have been misery.

The friends chatted a while, while in the kitchen the clatter of cooking continued.

There weren’t many dishes in total, but two solid, hearty ones.

Yun’s cooking wasn’t gourmet—he simply followed recipes faithfully. The result was plain but decent.

To most, it was “good enough.”

But to Liu, Yun’s food always tasted wonderful. And no, he wouldn’t admit it was only love-tinted tastebuds.

After they ate, Jiang Yi excused himself, still having things to do, leaving only the two of them alone.

Liu offered to wash dishes but Yun pressed him back into a chair: “Birthday boys don’t do dishes. Let me.”

“Fine.” Liu smiled, retiring to the sofa once more.

Yun cleaned swiftly. Hands rinsed, he hurried back, eager to pull Liu He close.

But Liu simply shifted aside, making no room.

So Yun sat with mock regret, sprawling on the wide sofa alone.

“Tonight I’ll order cake,” Yun said suddenly.

Liu nodded: “We could do without, really.”

He’d never had many birthdays with cakes.

“What’s a birthday without cake?” Yun rejected firmly.

Liu smiled faintly and wrapped his arms around Yun’s waist.

Together, they burrowed under one blanket.

After dinner heavy in carbs, Liu grew drowsy. Leaning against Yun, he drifted close to sleep.

These days, Yun ate and drank well. A little weight added, but muscle definition remained, more striking than ever.

Liu’s favorite thing, falling asleep at night, was pressing a hand against Yun’s abs. Though once asleep, his hand… wandered of its own accord.

“Crossing the River is set for release during Spring Festival. Want to join me for the premiere?” Yun asked, looking at a message from Wang-ge, gently extending the invitation.

Liu He had never once attended a film premiere. With Yun asking, he agreed instantly.

The pair cuddled on the sofa, time slipping away easily.

For dinner, the noon leftovers reheated, plus two new dishes.

And the small cake Yun had ordered.

It was only four inches, just enough for two.

At last, Yun unveiled his own gift.

Pressing a car key into Liu’s hand, he grinned: “Since you just got your license, I bought you a car. It’s waiting at my City A house.”

“A… car?”

“It’s nothing extravagant,” Yun assured.

Not extravagant? Liu glanced at the luxury brand logo on the fob. He bit his tongue—clearly their definitions of “not extravagant” didn’t match.

Even with several million in savings now, Liu felt the gift too extravagant.

“And… that’s not all. Tonight I’ll give you another gift,” Yun whispered, sliding Liu’s hand deliberately against the front of his pants.

Liu understood instantly.

Lewd.

Though he accepted the car, he still smacked Yun’s arm, scolding him with a laugh. And later that night, he accepted the “other gift” as well.

Days later, winter break officially began. Together, they returned to City A.

Seeing Creamy White again after weeks away, Liu He was ecstatic.

The bunny had grown heavier, plump in his arms. He stroked its silky fur lovingly: “Creamy White, did you miss Daddy?”

Its response was more rutting behavior.

Speechless, Liu shoved it into Yun’s arms.

Disgusted, Yun immediately returned it to its nest.

“Why does a male rabbit still rut after neutering?” Liu wondered aloud.

“Species quirk?” Yun answered vaguely.

The absurdity made Liu laugh, turning back to amuse the rabbit again.

Ah yes—true to rabbit reputation: fast.

If only Yun were so fast, Liu’s waist would survive…

Wait—no, not too fast. That would only mean premature. Just a bit quicker would be fine.

Distracted, Liu stroked Creamy White absentmindedly, mind wandering back to Yun’s other stamina.

Soon, Yun brought Liu along to the Crossing the River premiere.

Liu had been eager for the film ever since set visits.

After the director and cast warmed up the crowd, the screening began in earnest.

From the first scenes, Liu was drawn in.

The protagonist, Qian Sheng, innately brilliant—the pride of his clan, a crimson-clad sword prodigy.

Yet, as easily as a star can fall, losing his ability to wield the sword reduced him to nothing—crippled, discarded.

Through comrades’ support, crises besieging his family, moments life-and-death—the Red Sword Knight rose again.

He was a genius, mired in mud.

A swordsman, half of a blade’s soul.

In the end, Qian Sheng cut down his enemy by hand, avenging his past.

A simple story, truly. But with excellent acting and skilled directing, it became vivid and powerful.

Liu’s emotions galloped with the red swordsman. When despair struck, his chest twisted painfully too.

The film’s end left him rooted.

Back in the car, still shaken, he clutched Yun’s hand to check—whole, uninjured. Just acting.

“Wasn’t I dashing?” Yun preened smugly, ruffling his hair.

Before Liu could reply, Wang-ge, sitting at the wheel, interjected coldly: “You’re greasy.”

Liu nodded rapidly in agreement.

Parking at Yun’s home, Wang eyed him up and down. “Not too much food.”

“I know my limits,” Yun defended.

Wang’s brow arched, voice loud: “You know your limits? Look at the mess you post on your Weibo every day! You dare eat, while I don’t even dare to look!”