AVRL 19

Meng Chi’s strong reaction was something Yu Tingzhi hadn’t anticipated. When he instinctively caught the man in his arms to steady him, he hadn’t thought much of it at all, so he certainly hadn’t expected that Meng Chi’s soft lips would brush against his skin.

The warm touch was fleeting, but the alternating hot-and-cool sensation of his breath against his skin still stirred Yu Tingzhi, throwing his breathing off rhythm. So when Meng Chi’s knee pressed against him, Yu Tingzhi shamefully found his thoughts wandering.

But soon, Meng Chi pulled away from him, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

Yu Tingzhi released the hand holding Meng Chi’s lower back, took a moment to compose himself, and asked, “Are you okay?”

Meng Chi shook his head, then put on a deliberately relaxed, reproachful tone: “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Popping up out of nowhere, trying to scare me to death.”

“Yeah,” Yu Tingzhi said. “I didn’t realize you were so easily startled.”

His honest admission made Meng Chi pause for a moment. He laughed and cursed, “Are you crazy or what?”

The corner of Yu Tingzhi’s mouth lifted in a faint smile as he said, “Sorry.”

In just these few exchanges, the earlier awkwardness was glossed over. Meng Chi leaned back, putting more distance between them while making sure he wouldn’t slip again, and asked, “What are you doing here anyway?”

Yu Tingzhi: “The owner gave me complimentary vouchers too.”

Fair enough.

Nothing wrong with that.

But still, too much of a coincidence.

Meng Chi narrowed his eyes: “Are you here alone?”

“And She Shan,” Yu Tingzhi said. “He said he wanted to soak in the hot springs to relax. I didn’t expect to run into you.”

Yu Tingzhi was wearing only a pair of slightly long, loose black swim trunks. Though the lower half of his body was submerged in the water, making it hard to see clearly, the exposed parts were undeniably striking.

His skin was fair, with a jade-like texture in the mist. His neck was long and elegant, his chest full and well-defined, the two points on his chest flushed pink from the steam. Paired with that face of his—the kind that could make anyone swoon—he was certainly eye-catching.

Meng Chi often called Chen Yan a superficial person who chased good looks, but the truth was, he was the same way. Last time, just a few glances through a phone screen had left him parched and restless. Now, face to face, he was even more dazed. He could only look away, fixing his gaze on the distant night scenery.

“Who did you think I was just now?” Yu Tingzhi suddenly asked.

“Huh?” Meng Chi said. “I thought it was Yang Zile. That kid’s run off somewhere.”

“He’s at the drink bar,” Yu Tingzhi said.

Oh—so he’s sneaking a drink.

Just as Meng Chi was thinking this, his left upper arm suddenly tightened. He glanced sideways to see Yu Tingzhi’s wet hand gripping his arm, frowning at his shoulder: “You’re hurt here.”

Meng Chi followed his gaze and saw that his left shoulder was reddened over a large area. A sharp, prickling pain only now registered in his brain.

“Oh, I must have bumped it just now,” Meng Chi said, reaching up to touch it. “It’s fine—didn’t break the skin.”

“Sorry,” Yu Tingzhi said again.

“It’s nothing,” Meng Chi said with a smile. “It’ll be better in a few—”

Before he could finish the word “days,” Yu Tingzhi’s palm pressed against his shoulder, gently kneading it. Meng Chi’s entire body stiffened. He stared blankly at Yu Tingzhi’s slightly guilty, stunning face, then at that hand moving in circles on his shoulder. The patch of skin grew warmer, and the pain seemed to ease somewhat.

After a stunned moment, Meng Chi snapped back, grabbed his hand, and pushed it away: “No need for that—it’s nothing.”

Yu Tingzhi looked up at him for a second, then released his hand, said, “Wait here a moment,” and walked toward the steps at the edge of the pool.

Now Meng Chi got a full view of Yu Tingzhi from both front and back. To be fair, Yu Tingzhi really did have a great physique—his muscles weren’t exaggerated anywhere, yet he possessed both a strong sense of power and a soft, flowing beauty. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, firm glutes, long and straight legs—even plain black swim trunks looked exceptional on him.

As he climbed the steps, the trunks rode up slightly with his movement, and Meng Chi suddenly noticed what seemed to be a tattoo on the inside of Yu Tingzhi’s right thigh—a thin black line that flashed by briefly.

Meng Chi wondered if he’d seen wrong, since he felt that someone as pristine and untouchable as Yu Tingzhi didn’t quite match the image of having a tattoo.

Yu Tingzhi left after putting on a bathrobe and returned shortly, carrying a small cloth pouch.

“What’s that?” Meng Chi asked.

“Ice pack,” Yu Tingzhi said, standing at the edge of the pool, looking down at him. “Why don’t you come up first? It looks like your waist is hurt too.”

Meng Chi glanced sideways—there was indeed a red mark on his side. He’d been soaking in the pool the whole time, his mind elsewhere, so he hadn’t felt any pain.

“It’s fine. No need to make such a fuss—”

“Teacher Meng,” Yu Tingzhi said, crouching down by the pool and cutting him off, “if you don’t let me help, I’ll feel guilty.”

Meng Chi: “…”

What he’d once said to Yu Tingzhi was now being thrown right back at him.

Fine then.

Meng Chi had no choice but to climb out of the pool, pick up his bathrobe, put it on, and follow Yu Tingzhi inside to a room set aside for guests to rest.

When Yu Tingzhi offered to ice it for him, Meng Chi declined. Yu Tingzhi didn’t insist, wrapping the ice pack in a towel and handing it to him.

The injuries were on his shoulder and on his right lower back, toward the upper part. Meng Chi sat on a lounge chair, untied his robe and piled it at his waist, and awkwardly reached behind to place the ice pack on the spot that throbbed with pain.

The icy cold made him gasp involuntarily, his body shuddering. Noticing Yu Tingzhi glance at him, Meng Chi quickly said, “I’m actually quite ticklish.”

So it’s not that I’m sensitive.

Yu Tingzhi was momentarily taken aback before realizing what he meant. A hint of amusement appeared in his eyes: “Got it.”

Meng Chi: “…”

There was no one else here but the two of them. Whenever neither spoke, only soft, slow background music floated through the air, leaving an awkward silence. Meng Chi had to make small talk, muttering, “Where has that kid Yang Zile gone?”

Yu Tingzhi sat down on another lounge chair: “They’re probably talking about promotional photos for the teahouse.”

It seemed the kid was determined to ride on She Shan’s coattails. But this would be good for the teahouse too, so Meng Chi didn’t say anything.

Just then, Yu Tingzhi’s phone rang. He took it out, glanced at it, and without hiding anything from Meng Chi, answered directly.

“Grandfather, what’s the matter this late?”

“Nothing much—just letting you know that the day after tomorrow, I have an event at the convention center, so I won’t be home for dinner. You don’t need to come over.” Though Yu Zhengmao was nearly seventy, he was in good health, and his voice was steady and strong.

Yu Tingzhi: “Mm, okay, I understand.”

They exchanged a few more words, and Yu Tingzhi told him to rest early and remember to soak his feet before bed.

Meng Chi wasn’t paying close attention. He was switching the ice pack to his other hand, but because the injured spot was hard to reach, his posture was very awkward. After icing it for a while, his arm grew sore. When he switched hands, it was even harder to reach, so he simply gave up—after all, it wasn’t a serious injury; he could just tough it out.

===Chapter 17===

“Let me help you,” Yu Tingzhi said, reaching out after hanging up the phone.

Afraid that Yu Tingzhi would throw his own words back at him, Meng Chi handed over the ice pack.

“Lie down first,” Yu Tingzhi said, walking over to him.

Meng Chi looked at him, hesitated for a second, then obediently lay down on his stomach.

Yu Tingzhi sat down beside the lounge chair and placed the ice pack on the deep red mark on Meng Chi’s lower back. Neither of them spoke for about a minute, then Yu Tingzhi asked, “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” Meng Chi said after a moment. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

Yu Tingzhi moved the ice pack to his shoulder and continued.

Having grown accustomed to the cold, Meng Chi didn’t react much; he lay there quietly. After a while, he suddenly felt Yu Tingzhi pinch his shoulder.

“Has your neck and shoulder been bothering you lately? It feels a bit tight,” Yu Tingzhi asked.

Meng Chi’s breath hitched. He thought, You’re touching me so casually—of course I’m tense.

His mind wanted to refuse, but his body was honest. After all, Yu Tingzhi was right—Meng Chi’s neck and shoulders had indeed been sore lately, which was why he’d wanted to come soak in the hot springs in the first place.

Yu Tingzhi had good technique; the kneading he did successfully relaxed him.

Following the principle of “we can afford not to earn, but we can’t afford to lose—there’s no harm in fleecing a little extra when you can,” Meng Chi silently lay back down and accepted Yu Tingzhi’s ministrations.

“Hey, Teacher Yu, have you had training or something? You’re pretty good at this,” Meng Chi said. When his body relaxed, his mouth couldn’t stay idle—otherwise his mind would wander.

Yu Tingzhi: “Not really. I occasionally massage my grandfather.”

No wonder. Quite filial.

Yu Tingzhi’s thumb and forefinger moved in circles along his neck and shoulder, slowly working upward, finally stopping at the spot behind his ear, kneading gently back and forth: “Feel good?”

The moisture evaporated with the friction, and that patch of skin grew hotter, the honey-colored flesh turning crimson under his hands.

His sensitive spot being given special attention, Meng Chi unconsciously swallowed. Before he could speak, Yu Tingzhi added, “This is the Anmian acupoint. Rubbing it helps you sleep better.”

Bullshit. If you keep rubbing it, I won’t be able to sleep at all tonight.

Meng Chi grumbled internally, reached up, and grabbed the hand that was causing trouble at the back of his neck. “Teacher Yu,” he called out, “if you’re this attentive, I’ll start thinking you have ulterior motives.”

Yu Tingzhi paused, looked down to meet his gaze, and asked, “Why would I have ulterior motives toward you?”

This unflappable counter-question and his calm expression successfully left Meng Chi at a loss, as if he’d been overthinking everything.

But Meng Chi didn’t show it. He smiled and said, “Isn’t it because you want me to be your model?”

Yu Tingzhi didn’t answer, but he withdrew his hand from Meng Chi’s neck. Meng Chi’s shoulder had turned quite red, so he stopped the ice pack treatment as well.

“Is there a difference between painting on paper and painting on a human body?” Meng Chi asked.

“No difference,” Yu Tingzhi said, standing up and placing the ice pack back on the table.

Meng Chi: “Then why do you have to paint on me specifically?”

Yu Tingzhi turned to look at him: “I didn’t say I wanted to paint on you. I said I wanted to paint you.”

Meng Chi blinked, but quickly masked his expression. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Still not allowed to wear clothes?”

“No, you can wear them,” Yu Tingzhi said, stepping closer. “Would you agree to that?”