That Man Is a Little Wild - Chapter 18

Fan Yuanju had brought over some late-night food. He’d originally planned to share supper and gossip about Li Cang’s mysterious “guest” from the night before, but the moment he got out of the car, he ran into Chi Ye at the gate.

Chi Ye stood tall under the streetlights, sharp-featured and striking enough to draw stares from passersby. The air around him carried an effortless authority.

Fan Yuanju, recognizing him at once, quickly struck up a conversation. When he heard that Chi Ye had been left behind by Li Cang, his eyes lit up with excitement, and he insisted on bringing him upstairs.

At the dining table, Li Cang quietly ate the supper Fan Yuanju had brought: vegetable rolls, bean curd wraps, shrimp pasta, a small salad, and a glass of corn juice. He had always been particular about what he ate disciplined, careful. Even if he indulged in a drink once in a while, he always corrected himself the next day.

When he finished half his meal and drained the corn juice, he stood and said calmly, “Alright. It’s late. You should go.”

Fan Yuanju flopped lazily onto the couch, hugging a pillow. “I’ll just crash here tonight.”

Li Cang turned toward Chi Ye.

Chi Ye’s gaze followed Fan Yuanju, his tone mild but laced with a faint challenge. “He’s staying?”

Fan Yuanju nodded, oblivious. “Yeah.”

“Then I’ll stay too,” Chi Ye said, eyes never leaving Li Cang.

Li Cang’s brow creased. He was about to speak when he caught sight of Fan Yuanju’s eager expression his friend was clearly itching for gossip so he pulled Chi Ye into the bedroom and closed the door.

“Fan Yuanju’s my childhood friend,” Li Cang said, keeping his voice low. “He can sleep wherever he wants. You, on the other hand should head home. If I need you, I’ll call.”

Chi Ye’s lips curved faintly. “You need me now.”

“I don’t,” Li Cang shot back. But before he could finish, Chi Ye’s hand caught his wrist, his presence close enough to make Li Cang’s breath falter.

Li Cang struggled lightly, glaring at him. “Let go.”

Instead of answering, Chi Ye leaned closer, his voice deep and quiet, “You’re angry.”

The words weren’t a question.

Li Cang froze. His heartbeat quickened despite himself, a silent war between reason and something far more dangerous.

The distance between them tightened until the air felt charged. The rhythm of their breathing blurred together; neither spoke. The tension wasn’t violent, but it was fierce like two waves colliding beneath a calm surface.

Then, as if realizing how close they stood, Li Cang turned his face away, forcing his tone steady. “Go home, Chi Ye. It’s late.”

Chi Ye looked at him for a moment longer, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips one that carried both restraint and promise.

Without another word, he stepped back. “Goodnight, Li Cang.”

When the door closed, Li Cang’s legs felt unsteady. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his pulse still loud in his ears. Outside, the city lights flickered through the window, pale and restless, like the thoughts he couldn’t quiet.