Chapter 3222: Saving Baize's Zero-Protein Love Story 23

At dawn, the rest room finally quieted down.

After extreme danger, fatigue sank Yiqi's consciousness; he felt Baize finish washing and climb onto the bed, carefully embracing him from behind, warm chest against his back, Yiqi closed his eyes, letting the familiar scent envelop him as his consciousness blurred.

The insect sounds outside the window grew quiet, thoughts drifted away, sinking deep into the dream.

It was raining in the dream.

The rain in Thirteen District always carries a mixed taste of rust and dust, sticky on the face, making people uncomfortable.

Yiqi leaned against the wall of a dirty alley, his left arm cut in several places, blood dripping from his elbow, rain soaking his hair and flowing down his forehead, blurring his vision.

He was injured again.

But this wasn't a big deal for him; wandering Thirteen District, having few scars made him embarrassed to fight.

Fortunately, this was the third time he'd met this kind-hearted handsome guy; more precisely, it was the third time the kind-hearted handsome guy had taken him home. According to Uncle Junhao's teaching of Chinese culture to him, this should be considered quite fateful.

This temporary lodging wasn't big to begin with, furnishings simple, walls somewhat mottled; now with another teenager coming in, it felt even more cramped, but Yiqi felt no embarrassment.

Yiqi lay at the edge of the bathtub; in the simple washing area partitioned by a curtain, he could easily see the small Living Room. Yiqi buried his cheek in his arm, tilted his head to watch that person bustling about; the bathtub water had been changed twice before it wasn't stained red by blood, and he didn't cry out in pain, just lay there quietly.

The handsome guy seemed to sense it, turned his head to look at him.

After a silent stare, Yiqi spoke first, his voice tinged with a subtle complaint: "Why didn't you help me apply medicine today?"

His Now we need to output English was still a bit unskilled, he emphasized his words, sounding like he was being coquettish.

The handsome guy lifted his eyes from the far end of the table, walked over a few steps, and squatted beside the bathtub.

Yiqi lifted his head to look at him, actively pressing his face into his palm.

"You got hurt on purpose this time," the kind-hearted handsome guy said, his tone without blame, only helpless: "I can tell."

Yiqi: "……"

Oh dear!

He turned his head awkwardly, his ears heating up; having his thoughts seen made him feel both shy and annoyed, so he was about to storm out of the bathtub.

"Then I'm leaving, I won't come to find you again!"

Before he could stand, the handsome guy reached out and pressed him back; Yiqi's token struggle lasted less than a second before he gave up, since he wasn't really trying to leave.

"Soaking the medicine in the water helps your wound heal," the handsome guy said, thumb wiping the blood off Yiqi's cheek, the motion gentle.

"Why do it this way?"

Yiqi pressed down the inexplicable surge of annoyance, thinking it wasn't just because you spoke too little, making it hard to befriend.

He also didn't know why; when close to the little brother, his mood would become good.

Yiqi half-submerged his face in the water, gurgling out a few bubbles, then lifted his head to look at the gentle-eyed man before him, continuing to speak in his rather chewy Now we need to output English.

"I want to come find you, little brother; what's your name?"

Baize found a small stool, sat beside the bathtub, his gaze falling on the conspicuous scar on Yiqi's shoulder, remained silent for a moment before saying, "My name is Qi…"

He paused.

"Baize." He said, "My name is Baize."

"Baize…" Yiqi repeated, smiling eyes curved, reaching his hand out of the tub to exchange names with the other.

"My name is Ailinuo. Brother, please be friends with me, okay?"

No one can refuse eighteen-year-old Yiqi.

Moreover, it's Baize, who makes exceptions for him in every way upon first meeting.

Baize lowered his head to look at his wet hand, reached out to grasp Yiqi's cool, damp fingers, before releasing, lightly pinching his fingertip.

In Yiqi's expectant gaze, Baize whispered, "I know. You're famous, a rising warrior of the Thirteen District fighting arena."

——

The dream shifted lightly.

The scene changed, arriving at another night.

Baize's little house had at some point become his default drop‑off point; Yiqi even found a matching key in Baize's drawer, so he could come and go as freely as if returning home.

After another fight, Yiqi felt bored and also a little lonely.

He felt the key in his pocket, familiar with the way, and found Baize's little house.

The room was very quiet, only a swaying incandescent bulb lit, the light dim.

Baize was asleep sprawled on the table, Chinese materials scattered on it—Yiqi still couldn't quite make out what was written—and there was half a bottle of amber liquor.

Yiqi walked over lightly, his gaze sweeping the room, found a small blanket and gently draped it over Baize, then sat down beside him, imitating Baize's posture, lying on the table, turning his head to look at him.

Baize's brows and eyes were long and horizontal, an indescribable cool handsomeness; when asleep, there was a compliant feeling not usually seen, the faint lamplight striking his handsome side face extremely gently.

Yiqi stared at him for a while, unable to resist, he extended a finger and gently flicked Baize's eyelash; the eyelash brushed his fingertip, ticklish, and Yiqi's heart also felt ticklish.

The next second, Baize woke alertly.

Those eyes flashed with vigilance, sharp and cold; but once he saw clearly who stood before him, that trace of vigilance quickly turned into weary confusion.

Yiqi pursed his lips, shaping his mouth into two small parentheses curving upward, "Brother, you've been drinking."

Baize sat up slowly, the blanket on his shoulders slipping off; he reached out to catch it, habitually checking Yiqi for new injuries, and only after confirming there were no obvious wounds did he let out a breath.

Yiqi let him fuss; in the dim lamplight, Baize's face was lustrous and handsome, making him momentarily lost in thought. Perhaps because he'd drunk, the brother's cheeks showed a faint flush, his gaze softer than usual, his whole person looking warm and cozy.

"I'm not injured," Yiqi said, bringing his face close, his voice soft, "Your face is so red—are you drunk?"

Baize lowered his eyes slightly, his expression still an indescribable softness; after two seconds he spoke: "No."

His speech was a bit slower than usual, seeming somewhat clumsy.

Yiqi followed his own inclination, moved closer, and gave Baize's cheek a loud kiss; he could feel the warmth of Baize's cheek, hotter than he imagined.

Baize stared, gazing at Yiqi for a good while.

Yiqi felt a little guilty and a bit lost under his gaze, but Baize suddenly seemed to have made a decision, reaching out to embrace Yiqi's shoulders and returning the kiss.

Those damp, inexpressible thoughts grew obscure in the incredibly ambiguous atmosphere.

That night, Yiqi was extremely happy.

He pressed the handsome older brother Bai Ze beside the table, like a kitten tasting something new, and kissed him for a long, long time.

Bai Ze's lips were soft, with a faint hint of alcohol, making Yiqi also feel a little dizzy. After the kiss, Bai Ze snuggled him into his arms, his head resting against the brother's neck, and he grabbed Bai Ze's fingers to play.

He thought, is this what it feels like to like someone?

This is a very vivid dream.