AVRL 23

Hearing this, a hint of amusement surfaced in Yu Tingzhi’s dark pupils. He looked at the drowsy Meng Chi, then suddenly reached out and pinched his chin, his voice low and taut: “Meng Chi, do you know what you’re saying?”

Meng Chi made an affirmative sound from his throat.

“Then do you know what I want to do right now?” Yu Tingzhi lowered his head slightly, his voice very soft yet carrying a hint of danger.

Meng Chi closed his eyes for a moment, dozing off. Probably the pain in his chin forced him awake, making him open his eyes and truly face Yu Tingzhi in this moment. He looked at him with his already dazed eyes for a while, then suddenly smiled: “What do you want to do? Kiss me?”

Yu Tingzhi said nothing, his gaze falling on Meng Chi’s moving lips.

Noticing where he was looking, Meng Chi raised his hand again, hooked it around Yu Tingzhi’s neck, and kissed him directly on the lips.

The moment their soft lips touched, Yu Tingzhi froze for an instant, then immediately cupped the back of Meng Chi’s head, biting at his lips while using his tongue to push past his teeth and plunder the oxygen in his mouth.

Rough breaths and faint traces of alcohol lingered between them, swirling in the air with the exchange of saliva.

Though this kiss had been initiated by Meng Chi, it was ultimately Yu Tingzhi who took full control. Meng Chi could only passively endure, his mind exploding like fireworks, leaving him dizzy and his body burning with heat.

Yu Tingzhi’s slightly cool hands slipped in from beneath his shirt, kneading the scar on his lower back. Meng Chi found it ticklish, shrinking back to dodge, but Yu Tingzhi held him firmly in place, leaving him unable to move.

Meng Chi made a few dissatisfied grunts from his throat, which only earned him even fiercer biting from Yu Tingzhi, as if he wanted to devour him whole.

The kiss grew more urgent, and a sense of oxygen deprivation followed. Unable to bear it, Meng Chi instinctively clamped his teeth down, biting Yu Tingzhi’s lower lip. Yu Tingzhi let out a muffled groan and pulled back slightly, drawing a thin, sticky silver thread between them.

Seizing the chance to breathe, Meng Chi took a deep breath while pushing him away. He instinctively stuck out his tongue, licking away the moisture at the corner of his mouth, and tasted a faint hint of metallic sweetness.

His mind had completely shut down, hazy with intoxication, and his vision had also become blurred, as if shrouded in mist, making Yu Tingzhi seem somewhat unfamiliar to him in this moment.

Yu Tingzhi’s lower lip ached, and a little blood seeped out, but he paid it no mind, his gaze fixed intently on Meng Chi.

Meng Chi looked back at him, then suddenly raised his long leg and pressed his foot against Yu Tingzhi’s chest, while a drawn-out “ticklish~” escaped from his throat.

That elongated, drawn-out tone hooked like a claw, tightening Yu Tingzhi’s abdomen. He grabbed Meng Chi’s ankle and pressed it against the back of the sofa, about to lower his head and kiss him again, when the sound of the door lock clicking open came from behind.

Yang Zile was back.

Realizing this, the rationality that Yu Tingzhi had cast aside instantly returned, forcibly reining in his urge to let loose.

He reached out and wiped away the lingering crimson moisture at the corner of Meng Chi’s mouth, then, as if venting his frustration, pinched his cheek before picking up the suit jacket nearby and draping it over his exposed body.

Meng Chi was already completely unconscious, having fallen into a deep sleep. Even Yang Zile’s startled cry upon seeing Yu Tingzhi when he entered failed to wake him.

Catching sight of Meng Chi sleeping soundly on the sofa and smelling the faint scent of alcohol in the room, Yang Zile immediately understood: “My Ge really did get drunk today, huh.”

“Mm,” Yu Tingzhi responded. “He’s asleep.”

“Then let’s take him to his room to sleep. Sleeping here will make him catch a cold,” Yang Zile said, walking toward the sofa to wake Meng Chi up.

But Yu Tingzhi directly bent down and lifted Meng Chi into his arms in a bridal carry. Yang Zile hurried over to help, but Yu Tingzhi said it wasn’t necessary and told him to just open the bedroom door.

Marveling at Yu Tingzhi’s arm strength, Yang Zile quickly ran over and opened Meng Chi’s door.

After placing Meng Chi on the bed, Yu Tingzhi retrieved his pants, shook them out along with the jacket, and folded them neatly over the chair beside him.

Yang Zile poured a glass of honey water and only remembered as he entered that he should have poured one for Yu Tingzhi as well.

“Teacher Yu, would you like some water?”

Yu Tingzhi shook his head, set the glass on the nightstand, then took one last deep look at Meng Chi, who was sleeping soundly in bed, and took his leave.

The next day, the sun was high in the sky, practically beating down on his backside, when Meng Chi finally woke up. The moment he regained consciousness, he felt as if his head were splitting open, as though someone had taken a power drill and stirred through his brain. All he wanted was to fall back asleep.

He habitually groped around the headboard for his phone but couldn’t find it. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and sat up, scanning the room. He saw his suit jacket and trousers draped relatively neatly over the back of a chair, and his phone resting on the table.

He leaned over and grabbed the phone. As he saw that it was past eleven, he also noticed a number of messages on WeChat. He tapped them open—most were from Yang Zile, telling him he didn’t need to go to the shop today, that there was a sandwich in the fridge, and that hangover medicine was on the table.

Meng Chi habitually replied with a “Got it.” His throat was parched, and seeing a cup of water on the nightstand, he downed it in one gulp, then prepared to get out of bed and grab some clothes for a shower.

He was still wearing yesterday’s shirt, now wrinkled beyond recognition, and the smell of alcohol on him was so strong that even he found it unpleasant.

He had just taken his pajamas out of the closet when his phone buzzed again. Yang Zile had replied to his WeChat.

【See, I told you that with your tolerance, you can’t go without me】

【If you hadn’t run into Teacher Yu, you wouldn’t even know how you got back】

Meng Chi paused for a moment, then recalled that last night he had indeed met up with Yu Tingzhi and gone with him to She Shan’s exhibition. After that, he had drunk another type of alcohol, and his head had started spinning, leaving his memory incomplete.

Fragments of Yu Tingzhi flickered through his mind—sometimes his deep eyes, sometimes his jade-like hands. Meng Chi instinctively felt a tightening in his chest and typed back.

【He brought me home?】

Yang Zile: 【Yeah.】

Meng Chi asked again: 【Did I do anything?】

Yang Zile: 【Not that I saw. By the time I got back, you were already passed out on the sofa. Teacher Yu was the one who carried you to bed】

Teacher Yu carried you to bed.

Staring at those words, Meng Chi’s mouth twitched violently.

【Honestly, Teacher Yu looks all refined and gentle, but he’s surprisingly strong. I offered to help, but he didn’t let me—just gave you a full-on princess carry straight to bed】

【Impressive】

Impressive my ass, Meng Chi cursed inwardly.

And a damn princess carry, no less!

So embarrassing.

Though Meng Chi couldn’t clearly remember whether he had done anything he shouldn’t have, he knew well that he tended to let loose when drunk, and it was entirely possible he had done something that his subconscious had wanted to do but normally had to restrain.

The lingering smell of alcohol on him made him queasy. Meng Chi let out a helpless sigh, tossed his phone aside, and pulled off his shirt. As he got out of bed, he noticed a ring of red marks near his right ankle, just above the foot. It didn’t hurt or itch, but he couldn’t recall how he had gotten it. He didn’t think much of it, grabbed some clean clothes, and headed to the bathroom.

When he pulled off his underwear to take care of his bodily needs, Meng Chi’s mind once again flashed to Yu Tingzhi’s slender, articulate, artistic hand—except this time, it wasn’t art he was handling, but rather helping a little bird.

Meng Chi stood frozen as if struck by lightning, his wide eyes shifting from unfocused to sharp, then from sharp back to unfocused. By the time he recalled what had happened in the bathroom last night, his face was burning red.

“Fuck!” Meng Chi swore, shaking his head violently to banish those tangled, romantic thoughts, hurriedly relieving his bladder and letting his physical reactions subside.

All day long, Meng Chi was somewhat distracted. After racking his brain, he still couldn’t remember anything else he might have done besides making Yu Tingzhi help him with that little bird. He didn’t dare ask, either—after all, that one thing alone was enough to make his toes curl with regret.

Meng Chi had always been the type to take things as they came. For things that had already happened, his attitude was to fix them if he could, and if he couldn’t, to just let them be. Only this time, he was so embarrassed he didn’t know what to do, and he could only force himself to push it out of his mind.

Even so, that evening when he went to the tea house to brew tea, he still made a small mistake, which Yang Zhengfeng noticed.

Probably knowing that he had been plied with drinks by Mr. Chen the night before, Yang Zhengfeng didn’t say anything and told him to go home and rest first. Meng Chi didn’t go straight home, because he got a call from Chen Yan, saying that their club was having a gathering, and Song Min seemed to be in a bad mood, drinking quite a bit alone—did he want to come by and check on him?

Meng Chi hesitated for two seconds but still didn’t decline. However, he hadn’t expected to run into Yu Tingzhi.

Yu Tingzhi was sitting alone in a quiet corner near the back, whether waiting for someone or just seeking some solitary entertainment, Meng Chi didn’t know. He dismissed the thought and walked in another direction—he really didn’t want to face Yu Tingzhi right now.

Chen Yan had once invited members of their club to Youran Tea House for tea, so Meng Chi was on nodding terms with everyone. After exchanging greetings, he went straight over and sat down next to Song Min.

Song Min wore a sour expression and only managed a “Meng Ge” when he saw him. Only after asking did Meng Chi learn that he was upset because his group project work had been stolen by his roommate.

“Most of it was done by me, but the teacher gave him an A and me only a B,” Song Min complained bitterly.

Meng Chi patted his head. “Don’t associate with him anymore. People like him won’t always find chances to cut corners. Without you, he’s nothing but trash.”

Song Min let out a laugh, pursed his lips, and joined in cursing: “Yeah, he’s trash.”

“So,” Meng Chi said with a smirk, “why are you letting a piece of trash make you unhappy?”

“I’m not unhappy,” Song Min forced a smile, raised his glass, and took a big gulp. “I’ve just been too tired lately and wanted to unwind.”

Chen Yan knew Meng Chi didn’t have a good tolerance, so he served him a low-alcohol sparkling wine. And the moment Meng Chi arrived, he had quietly switched out the draft beer in Song Min’s cup as well.

===Chapter 21 section===

Song Min’s eyes were still fairly clear, though there were dark circles beneath them. It seemed he had indeed been worn out by his schoolwork lately—otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone this long without finding time for Meng Chi to treat him to a meal.

“Drink less. If you’re tired, just go back and sleep,” Meng Chi said.

Song Min shook his head. “I don’t want to go back to the dorm so early.”

Meng Chi didn’t press further and simply stayed with him, chatting about this and that. Before long, Song Min stood up to go to the restroom.

Though he didn’t seem particularly drunk and his steps weren’t unsteady, Meng Chi still followed along. He didn’t go in, however, just waited outside. As his eyes wandered, he saw Yu Tingzhi again.

But this time, Yu Tingzhi was no longer alone. Across from him sat a stranger—a tall man in a suit, his short hair neatly combed back with gel, the very picture of an elite professional.

Meng Chi saw the suit-clad man raise his hand to summon a bartender, then slide a glass of whiskey in front of Yu Tingzhi. Yu Tingzhi glanced briefly at the glass, then turned to say something to the bartender, who nodded and walked away.

The man in the suit said something Meng Chi couldn’t hear, and he saw Yu Tingzhi curl his lips into a smile, leaning back against the sofa, lifting his chin slightly, and parting his lips to reply.

The hazy, alluring lights of the bar swept over him, shifting his aura entirely. It still carried that cool aloofness, but now there was more of a stirring, teasing quality to it.

Meng Chi’s heart gave a jolt, and his brow furrowed unconsciously. Out of nowhere, he suddenly wanted to know what kind of relationship this person had with Yu Tingzhi.