Chapter Seventy-Five: Don’t Go Back

After speaking, Wen Yichen smiled, evidently satisfied. His smile was soft, barely audible, his vocal cords vibrating with a faint hoarseness, and within that huskiness, there was a subtle trace of something alluring, almost wicked. Warm breath brushed against Jiang Muwen’s neck, followed by a tingling sensation that made her shiver.

She had to admit, Wen Yichen after drinking was far more dangerous than when he was sober—the gentle vulnerability, the way he poured out his heart in front of her, as if he could draw her very soul from her body in the next moment.

Unfortunately, the secret Wen Yichen had just whispered to Jiang Muwen was lost to her; she hadn’t heard it clearly.

Steadying herself, curiosity gnawed at her, prompting her to ask cautiously, “Wen Yichen, what did you just… say?”

“I told you a secret—” Wen Yichen leaned against her shoulder, clearly enjoying himself. Yet Jiang Muwen couldn’t see his expression at that moment.

“What secret?” Jiang Muwen pressed, following his words.

To her surprise, his lips suddenly sealed tight. “How can a secret be told?”

“But didn’t you just say it?”

“That was then, this is now. It’s different.” Wen Yichen’s smile bloomed again as he spoke.

Jiang Muwen realized she would never pry anything from him and gave up—after all, who didn’t harbor a few unspeakable secrets?

“Wen Yichen, how about I take you home?” she asked gently.

The next moment, a childish, sweet “Okay” sounded by her ear, soft as spun sugar.

And so, Jiang Muwen supported Wen Yichen on their way home. But Wen Yichen, drunk, was restless all the way; he squatted by the roadside to tease stray cats, held his thumb to his ear and pinky to his mouth, pretending to make calls while chatting with Jiang Muwen. She was patient enough to indulge his antics, even filming a short video for him—after all, she’d never seen Wen Yichen act like this before.

They made their way home amidst laughter and chaos, finally arriving at their door.

Jiang Muwen, anxious about Wen Yichen, opened the door and led him into the bedroom.

The moment Wen Yichen touched the bed, he collapsed onto it, the mattress sinking softly beneath him. A weight seemed to lift from him, and he smiled in relief, closing his eyes as if utterly exhausted.

Seeing his reaction, Jiang Muwen prepared to help him up—she’d heard somewhere that one shouldn’t sleep immediately after drinking, that it wasn’t good for the body.

With this in mind, she grasped Wen Yichen’s arm, struggling to pull him upright. “Wen Yichen—don’t sleep yet.”

“No…” Wen Yichen’s eyes remained closed, his voice so soft it seemed to drain every ounce of strength from him.

Jiang Muwen propped him up against the headboard and asked patiently, “Do you want some milk? I can warm you a cup.”

“Okay…” Wen Yichen replied obediently.

At his words, Jiang Muwen straightened up and left the bedroom. She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Wen Yichen’s voice drifted from behind, “Hurry… or I’ll fall asleep…”

His words were slurred, as if he might collapse into unconsciousness at any moment.

Jiang Muwen, carrying the milk, shuffled into the kitchen in her slippers. Night had deepened, silence blanketed the air, as if the world had shrunk to just her. The room was dark, save for the lights in the bedroom and kitchen, and gazing at the dim living room, a primal fear of darkness welled up inside her.

She’d been afraid of the dark since childhood. Whenever her parents were away on business, she’d turn every light in the house on at night. Listening to the milk warming in the microwave, staring at the lit bedroom, her fear only grew stronger—though it took just a minute, it felt like an eternity.

Finally, with a soft chime, the microwave finished. Jiang Muwen took out the milk and hurried back toward the bedroom.

Stepping into the brightly lit room, relief washed over her. She smiled involuntarily at Wen Yichen. The young man had already tucked himself into bed, leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed. Only when Jiang Muwen softly called his name did he open them, weary but attentive.

She sat by the bed, holding the milk, and watched as Wen Yichen took the cup and drank obediently. After finishing, he handed the cup back to her, a trace of milk lingering at the corner of his mouth.

Now, Wen Yichen seemed different again—earlier, he’d been rambunctious, but now he was astonishingly docile.

Jiang Muwen set the cup aside and handed him a tissue, wanting him to wipe his mouth.

Unexpectedly, Wen Yichen leaned in—instead of doing it himself, he wanted Jiang Muwen to wipe it for him.

Seeing him drunk like this, Jiang Muwen could only comply, lifting her hand to gently clean the milk from his lips.

Then, as she glanced up, her eyes met Wen Yichen’s beautiful gaze. He was staring at her, unwavering, as if he might kiss her at any moment.

Jiang Muwen felt a bit embarrassed under his gaze, hurriedly withdrawing her hand and rising to her feet. “You’ve finished your milk; be good and sleep. I’ll head home. Goodnight.”

It was late, and she needed to go. The thought that her parents weren’t home, the corridor light was broken, and she’d have to cross the pitch-dark living room and fumble to open the door filled her with a small, creeping fear.

Just as she was about to leave, a warm hand suddenly grasped her wrist, pulling her back with surprising strength. She stumbled, caught off guard, and fell onto Wen Yichen’s bed.

“It’s too late. Don’t go…” Wen Yichen’s voice was muffled. It entered Jiang Muwen’s ears and made her heart skip a beat.

She was about to protest, but Wen Yichen had already lifted the covers and tucked them over her, then slipped comfortably beneath the blankets himself. His restless arms drew her close, and he began to mutter, “It’s too late, it’s not safe to go home. It’s dark outside, and if there are bad people, it would be terrible…”