Inside the room.
Qi Shaobai changed into his pajamas and leaned against the bedhead, resting the back of his head on his arm.
His expression was becoming more and more solemn.
This shouldn't have happened.
Just now when he heard the sound of the iron gate in the yard opening, he ran to the window to take a look.
Seeing his dad and stepmom getting out of the car, he timidly pulled the curtains closed and turned off the lights in his bedroom.
Thinking about it now, he regretted it a little.
He often slept with the lights on, but deliberately turning them off this time only increased the feeling of a guilty conscience.
Qi Shaobai's mind was in chaos, continuously guessing whether he had been discovered acting strangely or not.
The screen of his phone on the bedside table suddenly lit up.
Sheng Mumu: "Young Master Qi, if you're not sleeping, want to come out for a bite?"
Qi Shaobai looked at the screen, his heart tightening.
Sure enough, deliberately turning off the lights just now was very suspicious behavior.
Could it be that he had been found out?
What should he do?
Should he pretend he was already asleep or go out nonchalantly to eat something?
He hadn't eaten much for dinner, and was a little hungry now.
In the living room.
Qi Mo leaned lazily on the sofa, long legs crossed, posture casual and relaxed. He took the tea handed to him by the butler Zhang.
Sheng Mumu sat next to him holding her phone, staring at the screen suspiciously.
Above the WeChat dialog box.
A line displayed: The other party is typing...
It quickly disappeared.
Sure enough, not sleeping!
She suddenly turned her head and glanced at the elegant, tea-drinking man beside her.
The man nodded gently.
Sheng Mumu's fingers tapped the screen as she typed out a message.
"Kid, I know you're not sleeping—"
Before she could finish typing, the door to Qi Shaobai's room slowly opened.
The seventeen-year-old boy wearing pajamas walked out, hair tousled.
He came to the living room, yawned and said, "You're back? Was the movie good?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a hint of amusement flashed through Qi Mo's eyes.
Of course, Qi Shaobai didn't notice it.
Nor did he notice Sheng Mumu wink at his dad.
Sheng Mumu pushed forward the bag on the coffee table.
"We went out for Cantonese food and packed up the leftover fish ball congee."
"Oh." Qi Shaobai sat down on the sofa as if nothing had happened and opened the takeout bag.
Sheng Mumu began her performance, answering Qi Shaobai's earlier question as if inadvertently.
"The movie was quite good, it's a pity you didn't get to see it."
Qi Shaobai drank a spoonful of congee and vaguely said,
"It's okay, there will be a chance to see it when it's released."
"Mm-hmm." Sheng Mumu casually continued the conversation, then turned to look at Qi Mo, "Oh, right, I didn't quite understand the ending, didn't the female lead leave a letter for the male lead? Why didn't the male lead find out the truth until later?"
Qi Mo's long lashes hid the joyful glint in his eyes as he said in a deep voice, "The one who saw the letter wasn't him."
"Huh?" Sheng Mumu looked surprised, "Then who was it?"
Qi Mo gently slowed down his tone, patiently explaining, "It was his enemy's son."
Sheng Mumu spoke doubtfully, "That can't be, that back view was clearly the male lead, their hair color was exactly the same."
Qi Mo said, "Mm, the hair color is the same, but they gave a two second shot to hint at it to the audience."
Sheng Mumu: "That's too subtle, who could understand that without an explanation."
Qi Mo: "Mm, most people can't see it."
Sheng Mumu suddenly had a look of realization: "Ah—could it be that scene where he was holding chopsticks? His right hand?"
Qi Mo said gently, "That's right."
"No, it was the left hand, the mole on the ring finger, it was shown in the second shot of the opening scene." Qi Shaobai casually chimed in.
After he finished speaking, the air seemed to freeze for a moment.
The teenager's eyes suddenly widened, and the hand holding the spoon stiffened.
He felt the surrounding air seeming to slowly turn to ice.
Damn!
What did he just say????
He really wanted to hit himself, how could he not keep his mouth shut!
Clinging to a shred of hope, he slowly raised his eyes.
Two sharp gazes looked over at the same time.
Sheng Mumu and Qi Mo almost spoke in unison:
"How do you know about that?"
Qi Shaobai: .........
In the end, he honestly confessed the whole story about sneaking off to watch the movie premiere.
And repeatedly assured them that before deciding to go see the premiere, he had already done several sets of practice tests in advance, he really really hadn't taken up any study time.
In the process of giving an honest account, he kept his head lowered, not quite daring to meet his dad's gaze directly.
After speaking, he didn't say a word, waiting for the reprimand he knew was coming.
However.
He waited for a long time, but they didn't say a word.
Unable to resist, he snuck a glance up.
His pupils suddenly constricted.
???
Sheng Mumu had an "I told you so" expression as she looked at Qi Mo, stifling laughter while speaking:
"See, I told you this kid would give himself away with the first sentence he said."
Qi Mo's lips curved slightly as the smile in his dark eyes grew thicker and thicker. "Mm, you were right."
Sheng Mumu stood up and yawned in imitation of Qi Shaobai's earlier manner, saying,
"He even faked a yawn, laughable."
Qi Mo shook his head lightly with a faint smile, giving a concise evaluation:
"Better without the yawn."
"Right." Sheng Mumu affirmed, "I dare bet this kid deliberately messed up his hair a bit before coming out of his room."
Listening to his dad and stepmother's conversation, Qi Shaobai: "????"
This...this...was even harder to take than a scolding!
The damage wasn't high, but the humiliation was extreme!!!
After a while, Sheng Mumu finally stopped laughing and walked around to the stunned Qi Shaobai, circling him as she looked him up and down. She leisurely said,
"Young Master Qi, you should have at least hidden the t-shirt under your pajamas, it's sticking out."
Qi Shaobai stared wide-eyed, hastily looking down at himself.
There was nothing, he had already changed out of the t-shirt he had worn going out after coming back.
Lowering his head this time, delighted laughter suddenly rose up around him.
Qi Shaobai: "............"
He had fallen into their trap!
"You really can't lie at all, little Qi." Sheng Mumu laughed until her cheeks were sore.
Qi Mo's gaze shifted between Qi Shaobai and Sheng Mumu, the smile in his deep eyes growing thicker and thicker.
Night time.
The night was thick as ink, with repeated torrential rain.
One a.m.
Qi Shaobai suddenly opened his eyes as he lay in bed, lips pressed in a straight line.
Damn it.
He had been schemed against together by Dad and Stepmom.
So annoying.
On the other side.
Inside the master bedroom.
Another man surnamed Qi was also wide awake.
Three minutes ago.
He suddenly felt a pair of delicate, soft hands touch his waist.
His abdomen instantly tightened and he opened his eyes.
In the darkness, he felt her move a little closer.
Shallow breaths blew onto his back.
Her breathing rhythm was slow and steady, she should be asleep.
The next second, he felt as if she lightly sniffed, then mumbled a few sounds, burying her head in his back, seeming to fall into an even deeper sleep.
Qi Mo didn't move at all, the hands at his waist gave off warmth.
The soft touch made his throat tighten.
Impossible to ignore.
Sensing his breathing become hotter, his throat rolled.
He took a deep breath trying to calm down, but the rise and fall of his chest only made the breaths behind him closer.
In the darkness, the gaze of those eyes like a secluded pool dispersed all coldness, seemingly about to ignite a flame.
Sheng Mumu dreamed that she was in a movie theater, Qi Mo draped his coat over her.
The faint pleasant scent enveloped her and she couldn't help sniffing.
It was fresh, smelled nice.
She unconsciously moved a little closer.
Coveting this scent that made her feel at ease.
7:30 a.m.
Morning light leaked in through the cracks in the curtains. The woman grunted and turned over, as if having had a good night's sleep.
The man's slender fingers pulled back the quilt.
He walked lightly into the bathroom.
Turned on the shower head.
He braced one hand against the tiled wall, turning the water to the cold side.
Water poured down, following the tight, smooth lines of his muscular body, disappearing into the depths.
A few drops of water slid down his long lashes.
Those good-looking eyes were half-lowered.
Yet unable to conceal the murky, gloomy light churning deep within.
Floating, sinking.
