I Wanted to Kiss You All Along

Emotions surged like boiling lava, completely breaking through the barriers of reason, leaving only primal plunder and demand.

Hands clasped tightly together, legs intertwined, as if they didn’t want to leave even a sliver of space between them.

The near-suffocating feeling made Ye Zhiqiu instinctively crane his neck. But the next moment, the sensation of sharp canine teeth pressing against his Adam’s apple made even making a sound difficult.

Through sweat and tears, in the blurred haze, Ye Zhiqiu could only make out Qin Jianhe’s dark brows and eyes, soaked with perspiration.

Those eyes were like a vast, boundless ocean, impossible to see the bottom of no matter how hard he tried.

Hot droplets of sweat and fervent kisses rained down together. Ye Zhiqiu instinctively closed his eyes.

Then he felt the large hand gripping his ankle suddenly tighten, and the storm descended…

When he woke again, the sky was already slightly bright. He moved his hand with difficulty, trying to check the time, only to realize that Qin Jianhe had taken off his watch last night.

He hadn’t allowed any covering on his body.

Domineering and fierce, controlling everything about him.

But without a doubt, it also made him happy and wild, forgetting all the misfortunes of reality, following only Qin Jianhe’s lead through the highs and lows of pleasure.

Forgetting reality wasn’t easy, so Ye Zhiqiu loved this feeling.

The arm around his waist was tight. He shifted carefully, but even in sleep, the man immediately seemed to sense it and opened his eyes.

Those long phoenix eyes, only just opening, immediately softened with a faint smile when they met his gaze.

“Good morning, Ye Zhiqiu.” Qin Jianhe’s voice was low and husky as he naturally leaned down to press his warm lips to Ye Zhiqiu’s forehead.

“Good morning.” Now that Qin Jianhe was awake, Ye Zhiqiu no longer hesitated and finally reached for his phone.

But before he could check the time, the phone was taken from him, and Qin Jianhe covered him again.

“No more, brother,” Ye Zhiqiu laughed, pushing at his shoulder. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

“No,” Qin Jianhe murmured, his warm breath brushing against Ye Zhiqiu’s ear.

A slight tickle.

Ye Zhiqiu was amazed. The energy of a man who had just started experiencing this was indeed not to be underestimated.

“And you?” Qin Jianhe turned to kiss his soft earlobe. “Don’t you want to now?”

It seemed every part of Ye Zhiqiu was soft, adorable, and could quickly melt Qin Jianhe’s usually cold heart.

“No, I’ve had enough,” Ye Zhiqiu said quickly, meeting Qin Jianhe’s lazy, ambiguous gaze. He emphasized, “If I want more, I’m a dog.”

Hearing this, something shifted in Qin Jianhe’s eyes. He lowered his head without a word and kissed his lips.

“It’s okay,” he finally said. “If it’s you, I like puppies too.”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

“Hey,” he laughed, pushing Qin Jianhe. “Your standards are pretty low.”

“Hm?” Qin Jianhe laughed too, then softly said, “Come here. Just holding you.”

Ye Zhiqiu stopped struggling and nestled into his arms.

The room quieted, only their slow, deep breathing.

After a while, Ye Zhiqiu spoke first.

“What time is it?” he asked softly. “I have class today.”

“Such a good student?” Qin Jianhe seemed to laugh softly.

“Of course,” Ye Zhiqiu said. “My professor really appreciates me. I shouldn’t keep asking for leave.”

“So obedient?” Qin Jianhe laughed again.

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

“Hey,” Ye Zhiqiu laughed, exasperated, calling his name. “Qin Jianhe.”

Hearing this, Qin Jianhe ruffled his hair and was about to reach for his phone when Ye Zhiqiu’s alarm went off.

“Six-thirty,” Ye Zhiqiu said.

“Sleep a little more,” Qin Jianhe said, getting up and pulling on his robe. “I’ll make breakfast.”

The blackout curtains weren’t open, so the room was dim. Ye Zhiqiu nodded, burrowing into the covers, looking especially obedient.

Unable to resist, Qin Jianhe leaned down and pressed a hot kiss to his forehead.

The door opened and closed. Ye Zhiqiu closed his eyes again, resting for a bit before getting up.

When he opened the bedroom door, he saw Qin Jianhe scooping dumplings onto plates.

“Dumplings?” Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes lit up. “Did you buy them?”

“No,” Qin Jianhe smiled. “Uncle Fu made them yesterday and brought them over. I put them in the freezer and brought them when I came last night.”

“You’re so good to me, Qin Jianhe.” Ye Zhiqiu reached for the plates. “I never go hungry with you.”

“Oh?” Qin Jianhe laughed, looking at him, reaching for the chopsticks. “You’ve been hungry before?”

Not really. But without Qin Jianhe, he would probably be eating out more.

In addition to the dumplings, there were greens and a fruit plate with nuts and cookies.

As Ye Zhiqiu ate, Qin Jianhe went to change. When he came out, a tie was hooked over his long fingers.

Seeing Ye Zhiqiu also put down his chopsticks, he said, “Professor Ye, could you help me with something?”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

“I’ll be in charge of your ties from now on,” he said, taking it, his mouth saying no but his hands taking the tie and looping it around Qin Jianhe’s neck, fingers nimble. “If you can give me a separate salary.”

“Deal.” The man’s Adam’s apple moved slightly. “Name your price. I’ll have my secretary calculate the total up to your hundredth birthday and pay you in one lump sum.”

Ye Zhiqiu smiled. “One or two years first. We’ll talk after the probation period.”

The tie knotted, he stepped back and looked Qin Jianhe over.

The tailored suit highlighted his cool, aloof elegance, a stark contrast to the man who had murmured sweet nothings in bed.

But the two merged again when Qin Jianhe leaned over and pressed his warm lips to Ye Zhiqiu’s nose.

“I’m going to work,” he said.

“Mm.” Ye Zhiqiu looked up at him, his eyes curving like crescent moons. “Drive safely.”

“Don’t you feel…” Qin Jianhe’s eyes darkened, as if he wanted to say something, then stopped.

“What?” Ye Zhiqiu asked.

“Nothing.” Qin Jianhe’s eyes were full of laughter.

As he opened the door, he turned back. “Professor Ye.”

“Hm?” Ye Zhiqiu looked at him.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Qin Jianhe asked.

Ye Zhiqiu thought for a moment. “Braised pork?”

“I’ll make it when I get back,” Qin Jianhe said.

He was impeccably dressed, every move naturally elegant.

But saying that, it felt perfectly natural.

As if, from head to toe, he radiated a gentle, steady warmth.

The door closed. It took Ye Zhiqiu a moment to realize his eyes had curved again.

Time flew when you were busy.

After morning classes, he went straight back to the office.

Thinking of the braised pork, he sent Qin Jianhe a message when work ended.

[One Leaf Knows Autumn: I’m going to buy some pork belly. Just go home after work.]

[QIN: Okay.]

He put down his phone and went to the nearby market.

In the later years of his past life, the market had been the place he visited most.

So much so that he had grown weary of it, disgusted, loathing it from the bottom of his heart.

So he hadn’t set foot in one since his rebirth.

Even passing by made him afraid.

Afraid his rebirth was just a dream.

Afraid that when he woke, he would have just chosen his ingredients and have to return to that big flat with Qi Xin.

But today, he forgot that feeling for the first time. He even felt a little happy when the butcher praised him for choosing a good cut of pork belly.

And when he left, he was certain: he had a home to go to, a place to be.

He put his bags in the trunk but didn’t leave right away. He sat in the car, savoring the feeling, reinforcing it.

Only then did he calmly start the engine and drive away.

The detour to the market hadn’t taken long, but when he got home, Qin Jianhe was already there. He must have rushed back after work.

The apartment was bright. Qin Jianhe was on the phone, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

He had taken off his suit jacket. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up, revealing a length of well-proportioned forearm.

Seeing Ye Zhiqiu come in, he naturally reached out and took the bags from him.

“Sorry, Uncle Liu,” he said politely. “My partner is back. You can come to my office tomorrow to discuss this.”

“Business?” Ye Zhiqiu asked.

“Small matter.” Qin Jianhe looked at him, a faint smile in his eyes. “You work for a bit. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Okay.” Speaking of work, Ye Zhiqiu remembered something. “Did you see the email I sent you at the office? Are those sponsored items okay? If so, I’ll have someone get them ready.”

For external sponsorships, whether for films or events, Meng Da usually had to approve them first, to check for other company needs.

But Meng Da wasn’t back yet. Ye Zhiqiu had asked Wu Qiong via email and then skipped levels to send it directly to Qin Jianhe.

“Yeah.” Qin Jianhe glanced at him. “They’re all good. I saw them when I left work and replied.”

Ye Zhiqiu opened his email and found Qin Jianhe’s reply.

He typed a quick message to Zhang Lan, asking her to coordinate with the relevant department. Once the items were ready, she should contact Liu Yisi directly to have the production team pick them up.

After sending it, he leaned against the counter and watched Qin Jianhe cook.

Qin Jianhe’s hands were beautiful, long-fingered, knuckles defined. Even washing and cutting vegetables, there was a crisp, decisive beauty to it.

Calm, as if without excess emotion.

But every piece of meat was because Ye Zhiqiu liked it. When he added rock sugar for the caramel, he put in a few extra pieces.

Instinctively, Ye Zhiqiu looked at him.

At his lowered lashes, his pure focus.

As if, in that moment, making a meal was more important than anything else.

For a moment, he couldn’t help thinking, “This would be nice, to keep going like this.”

But he couldn’t let Qin Jianhe do all the cooking.

In any relationship, prolonged inequality would cause imbalance.

Especially since Qin Jianhe was already busy enough. Even if he wanted to, time wouldn’t allow it.

It was time to hire a cook, he thought.

“Why are you looking at me?” Qin Jianhe suddenly asked, his gaze ambiguous. “Hand me the kettle.”

“Oh.” Ye Zhiqiu handed it to him.

Qin Jianhe poured the boiling water into the pot, then set another one to boil before turning back.

“Professor Ye,” he said with a soft laugh, “why have you been sneaking peeks at me?”

“I…” Ye Zhiqiu stammered. “I was looking at the meat.”

“It’s braising now,” Qin Jianhe said. “Can you look at me now?”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

He blinked, and before he could speak, Qin Jianhe had already moved closer.

In the small kitchen, he trapped him between his arms, bending to press him against the counter and kiss him.

Because Ye Zhiqiu had been within arm’s reach the whole time, this was the happiest meal Qin Jianhe had ever cooked.

He said nothing, just laughed softly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you walked in.”

“You’ve been at this for a while now, President Qin,” Ye Zhiqiu laughed, looking up at him, his eyes a little moist. “How are you still so eager?”

“There’s always more to learn,” Qin Jianhe softly said. “The teacher is just that good.”

“Hey, Qin Jianhe.” Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes went wide.

Qin Jianhe had noticed: whenever Ye Zhiqiu was at a loss, he would say his name.

He stopped teasing him, just smiled and kissed him.

The braised pork was delicious. Ye Zhiqiu had an extra bowl of rice before putting down his chopsticks.

They cleared the table, then worked side by side.

Near midnight, Qin Jianhe checked his watch and reminded Ye Zhiqiu to close his laptop and get ready for bed.

The big round bed was comfortable and springy. Qin Jianhe pulled Ye Zhiqiu into his arms.

The blackout curtains worked well. The room was dark. Ye Zhiqiu reached out and took Qin Jianhe’s hand.

Qin Jianhe shifted his hand, lacing their fingers together.

In the silence, Ye Zhiqiu spoke.

“Qin Jianhe,” he said, “I want to hire a cook.”