That Man Is a Little Wild - Chapter 15
Chi Ye frowned slightly, grabbed the three men by their collars, and shoved them out the door before slamming it shut. He turned back toward Li Cang and asked,
“Why aren’t you wearing the new set I bought you?”
Li Cang seemed entirely unfazed by the earlier commotion. He simply glanced at what Chi Ye was holding and asked,
“Crab dumplings?”
“…Yeah.” Chi Ye set the box on the dining table. “You want vinegar, soy sauce… or chili?”
When he said the last word, he looked up and met Li Cang’s cool, detached gaze.
The man looked completely different after a shower cold, distant, and impossibly composed. Even dressed in Chi Ye’s clothes, he carried an air of quiet refinement that couldn’t be hidden.
Li Cang sat down at the table. The moment he did, Chi Ye realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His bare skin gleamed pale beneath the hem of the shirt, his body relaxed and unguarded.
Chi Ye’s eyes flicked downward to that delicate, soft line resting idly between his legs.
Li Cang picked up his chopsticks, took a bite of a dumpling, and raised his brows slightly. “Vinegar.”
Chi Ye, acting more like a personal attendant than anything else, obediently poured a dish of vinegar for him, then added another plate with soy sauce beside it.
Li Cang didn’t eat much three dumplings, a glass of water, not a sip of milk. He got up and said,
“My skin’s sensitive. I can’t wear new clothes that haven’t been washed.”
Chi Ye nodded. “Got it. I’ll keep some here next time.”
Li Cang looked at him as if he’d just heard something absurd. His eyes widened a little, incredulous.
Chi Ye continued as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Go check my closet. See if anything fits wear that for now.”
Li Cang thought this man had completely misunderstood something. But he couldn’t be bothered to explain. If he didn’t get to work soon, Xu Siran would probably tear him apart. So he just went to the bedroom to find something to wear.
Meanwhile, Chi Ye opened the door again the three men were still there.
“…”
He sighed. “Why are you still here?”
Song Yu grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. “Brother Ye, if I’m not mistaken, that was the guy from the bar last time, right?”
Luo Nansong also raised his thumb. “Those legs, man. I could stay hard for a hundred years.”
“Get lost,” Chi Ye said with a half-laugh, half-curse.
Lu Zhe, the quietest of the three, asked, “So you’re moving in together?”
Chi Ye thought of Li Cang’s expression cool, indifferent, untouchable. He knew that was impossible. With a faint smile, he brushed off the question.
“Go on, all of you. I’m taking him to work in a bit.”
“Tsk, tsk…” The three exchanged looks of mock pity. “Forgotten your brothers already.”
Chi Ye shut the door in their faces.
Li Cang emerged wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of loose athletic shorts too warm for anything thicker. The shorts hung low on his hips but fit well enough. The simple outfit made him look clean, crisp, and effortlessly striking.
He strapped on his watch, grabbed his phone, and headed for the door.
Chi Ye caught him by the wrist, his voice low and hoarse as he pointed at Li Cang’s neck.
“You’re going out like that? You’ve still got kiss marks all over here.”
Li Cang lifted his eyelids and gave him a cool glance. Though he was a head shorter, his gaze carried a quiet dominance that made Chi Ye’s chest tighten.
“Is that a problem?” Li Cang asked.
Chi Ye licked the edge of his teeth, a smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all.”
Li Cang turned and walked away, the hem of his shorts swaying slightly as he moved. His long legs caught the morning light skin pale, firm lines of muscle shifting beneath it, every inch polished like carved ivory. Even his ankles carried an effortless elegance.
He crouched by the door to put on his shoes.
The motion lifted his hips slightly, the curve beneath the fabric firm and teasing.
Chi Ye felt a sharp heat flare low in his stomach. He took a few steps forward, leaned down, and pressed his hips lightly against Li Cang’s from behind.
“Come over tonight?” he murmured.
Li Cang slipped on his shoes, turned his head, and cast him a sidelong glance.
A short, cold snort.
“No time.”