I Held His Hand And He Locked the Door

A cold, sharp rose-scented perfume clung to Xie Zhaozhou.
Ning Shixue’s mind went blank for a few seconds.
Then, he suddenly snapped back to reality, cold sweat nearly trickling down his spine.

The chubby child had doomed him.

But Xie Yaoyao admitted no wrongdoing.
He still clung to Ning Shixue’s neck, his chubby little face pressed into the hollow of Ning Shixue’s throat, legs tucked up, playing the part of a tiny baby.

He actually identified people by their suits.
Xie Zhaozhou had worn a silver-grey suit exactly once, and he had remembered it.

Ning Shixue’s toes curled slightly.

Still, inexplicably, he felt Xie Zhaozhou looked somewhat familiar.
Logically, there was no way he’d ever met him before.
But there was no time to dwell on it.

Zhaozhou.
The man Xie Yaoyao had mistaken for him stepped forward.
He nodded at Xie Zhaozhou, then said to Ning Shixue, very gently,
Xiao Ning, long time no see.

Ning Shixue finally remembered.

This man should be Xie Zhaozhou’s uncle.

Old Master Xie had two sons and one daughter.
The daughter was abroad, a ballet dancer who hadn’t been home in many years.
Xie Zhaozhou’s father was the eldest.
Then there was this uncle, Xie Mengyuan.

But that didn’t make this any less awkward.

Because the original novel mentioned that Xie Zhaozhou’s relationship with everyone in the Xie family was terrible.

After Xie Zhaozhou was born, his parents went to the overseas branch of the company.
They stayed there for eight full years.
During that time, the scum gong was born.
Xie Zhaozhou’s elder brother also stayed abroad with his parents for his studies.

Only Xie Zhaozhou remained.

He was raised by Old Master Xie.

Back then, fighting over the family inheritance, Xie’s father and Old Master Xie had a severe falling out.
As Xie Zhaozhou grew older, he became exceptionally distant towards them.
The resentment in Xie’s father’s heart deepened.

Naturally, he favoured his other two sons more.

If Xie Zhaozhou was irreconcilable with his own father, an uncle was even less of a concern.

Hello, Uncle.
Ning Shixue said, awkward yet polite.

It was plausible enough.

The Xie and Ning families were old friends.
Though the scum gong despised the original host, the original host had played at the Xie residence since childhood.
Wasn’t he allowed to miss his uncle?
Couldn’t he care about a lonely elderly relative?

Xie Mengyuan sensed the tension between them and tactfully didn’t pry.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, he turned and left.

Only then did Song Li step forward.
He lowered his voice, looking troubled.
President Xie, Madam wishes to see the Little Young Master.

The ‘Madam’ he referred to was, of course, Liao Yanwan.

Xie Zhaozhou’s already deep, dark eyes became even more obscure and unreadable.
He glanced up, signalling Song Li to take Xie Yaoyao.
Take him.
He doesn’t have to come down.

Ning Shixue willingly handed over the chubby child.

But Xie Yaoyao still refused to let go of his neck.

Little Young Master, can I hold you for a bit?
Song Li tried his best to soften his voice and coax him.

Xie Yaoyao shook his head vigorously, his little cheeks puffing out.
He whispered,
He go with me.

These past few days, he had been with Ning Shixue constantly.
He had come to assume Ning Shixue belonged to him.
Now that he was going to see Grandma, of course Ning Shixue should go with him.
Why should they be separated?

But given Liao Yanwan’s condition, she couldn’t even see Xie Zhaozhou, let alone Ning Shixue.

What if Ning Shixue upset her further.

Song Li’s face was full of distress.

Xie Yaoxing,
Xie Zhaozhou frowned, his voice low.
You go alone.

The defiant puff in Xie Yaoyao’s cheeks instantly deflated.
But he hadn’t given up yet.
His fair, tender, chubby little hand clutched Ning Shixue’s finger, his voice tearful as he threatened,
You not come with me, I not be friends with you!

Ning Shixue: “…”

Thanks.
We were never friends.

Xie Yaoyao was finally carried off.
Ning Shixue pressed his lips together.
But before he could speak, his wrist was suddenly gripped firmly.
Xie Zhaozhou pulled him along and turned to leave.

Ning Shixue didn’t dare ask.

Until he couldn’t bear it any longer.
He gently tugged at the cuff of Xie Zhaozhou’s suit jacket and said quietly,
…Second Brother.

What?
Xie Zhaozhou glanced at him coldly.

Ning Shixue struggled slightly.
My wrist hurts.

His wrist was fair and pale, now gripped red, even the finger marks visible.

Xie Zhaozhou’s hand paused.
He loosened his grip but kept his thin lips pressed tightly together.

Ning Shixue rubbed his wrist bone.
Then, he simply took Xie Zhaozhou’s hand.
His cold fingertips slid between Xie Zhaozhou’s fingers and, under the gaze of the crowd, interlaced them tightly.

Since all Xie Zhaozhou wanted was for him to put on an act, he didn’t mind playing the part a little more convincingly.

Nearby guests seemed to be whispering.

But Ning Shixue didn’t let go.
Xie Zhaozhou’s knuckles were broader than his, nearly able to enclose his entire hand within his palm.

It wasn’t until they reached the guest room that Xie Zhaozhou released him.

Actually, the moment Xie Zhaozhou approached earlier, he had caught the scent of blood, faint as it was.

Xie Zhaozhou had probably come to change clothes.
He had only come over upon seeing him mistake the wrong man.

Ning Shixue found a sofa and sat down to wait.

Xie Zhaozhou took off his jacket.
His shoulders were broad, his legs long.
The outline of his back muscles was still visible beneath his shirt.
His hands had distinct knuckles, a silver wedding ring on his ring finger.

His gaze pressed down like a cold, heavy cloud.

…I won’t look,
Ning Shixue, unused to such a scene, quickly grabbed the suit jacket beside him and covered his head.
I really won’t look.

Xie Zhaozhou’s fingers rested on his belt buckle.
It seemed he let out a soft laugh, but his voice was too cold, leaving only an impression of mockery.
I’m not worried.
After all, Young Master Ning has no interest in me.

Ning Shixue: “…”

Should he be interested, or not?

…That’s not quite right,
Ning Shixue retorted, his voice muffled from under the suit jacket.

He had grabbed it without thinking, forgetting it was Xie Zhaozhou’s jacket.
Now his whole body was enveloped by that cold perfume scent.
His cheeks couldn’t help but feel a little warm.

Xie Zhaozhou’s tone remained flat.
Apologies. I didn’t know you had such a peculiar preference.

Ning Shixue: “…”

What preference?

A preference for old men?

Unable to bear the slander, Ning Shixue pulled the jacket down in one swift motion and apologized earnestly.
You might not believe me, but I really didn’t do it on purpose.

Then, feeling it wasn’t enough.

He lowered his eyelashes.
When he looked up again, the tips of his ears were pale and flushed.
His gaze was evasive, almost shy.
He said quietly,
Actually, I like you now.
What I did earlier was just to get your attention.
It’s your fault for ignoring me all this time.
I was wrong, Second Brother.

Given the original host’s dramatic personality, this was entirely plausible.

He wasn’t worried about breaking character.

Whether Xie Zhaozhou believed him or not was unclear.
But after a few seconds, his gaze settled on Ning Shixue’s face.
Suddenly, his expression turned cold.
Don’t cry.

Ning Shixue’s complexion was naturally fair.
Having been under that jacket for so long, the rims of his eyes were already faintly red.

He had deliberately played up the pitiful act, making them even redder.
His peach blossom eyes were now glistening with moisture.

???

Ning Shixue was confused.
He wasn’t crying.

But he quickly understood.
The original host would never have wanted to attend this banquet.
Forced to come, then scolded—of course, he would cry from resentment.

And so.

Xie Zhaozhou watched as Ning Shixue, who moments before had only red-rimmed eyes, now, after being told not to cry, let his eyelashes flutter and tears suddenly stream down his pale cheeks.
His nose tip was red.

He even wiped his eyes with Xie Zhaozhou’s jacket.

Ning Shixue occasionally stole glances at Xie Zhaozhou.
Since he was already crying, Xie Zhaozhou couldn’t scold him anymore, right?

Xie Zhaozhou: “…”

An inexplicable irritation rose in Xie Zhaozhou’s chest.
But afraid Ning Shixue would make more of a scene, he suppressed his darkened expression and said nothing more.
He reached out to take the jacket Ning Shixue had draped over himself.

Ning Shixue’s eye corners were red, his cheeks damp and flushed.
He lay sprawled on the sofa, his hair disheveled, his collar loosened from Xie Yaoyao’s clutching, revealing his pale, delicate collarbones and a sliver of his chest.

But before Xie Zhaozhou could touch him, Ning Shixue suddenly straightened his back and turned his head towards the door.

Xie Zhaozhou’s arm muscles tensed, his hand braced against the sofa back behind Ning Shixue.
He also glanced subconsciously.

He Lin: “…”

He had happened to glimpse Xie Zhaozhou dragging Ning Shixue away by the wrist and thought something was wrong.
Worried, he decided to follow and check.

He hadn’t expected this.

Please, continue, continue.
He Lin took a few steps back out the door and considerately closed it behind him.

Ning Shixue: “…”

Xie Zhaozhou: “…”