Song Yuzhang: Chapter 86 - The Weather is Cool
Chapter 86: The Weather is Cool
Song Yuzhang was both experienced and inexperienced. Nie Xueping was so tall and broad that he simply couldn’t apply the same tricks he used to handle pretty boys in the past. After just kissing his face, he was already feeling at a loss. After thinking it over, he decided to start by taking off Nie Xueping’s coat—but Nie Xueping was lying down, making the coat difficult to remove. It was, frankly, extremely uncooperative.
Seeing that Nie Xueping was just lying there smiling without moving, eyes deep and unreadable, Song Yuzhang couldn’t tell if he was drunk. He leaned in to give him a kiss and coaxed him in the tone he’d use on a pampered pretty boy, “Be good, lift your arms.”
Nie Xueping remained motionless, still just smiling as he lay there.
Song Yuzhang moved on to unfasten his tie. After the tie slipped off to the side, he patiently began undoing the buttons on Nie Xueping’s shirt from top to bottom. When he reached the third button from the bottom, his hand was suddenly caught.
Song Yuzhang looked up. Nie Xueping was smiling at him. “Enough messing around.”
Song Yuzhang smiled too. “Does Mr. Nie think I’m joking with you?”
Nie Xueping held his hand, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of it, then brought it to his lips for a kiss, and patted the space beside him.
Song Yuzhang hesitated for a moment, then lay down next to him.
Nie Xueping used his hand to help him.
Song Yuzhang curled up slightly, enjoying how attentive Nie Xueping was—but he also felt unsatisfied. After all, nothing serious had happened. It was like scratching an itch through a boot—pointless and frustrating.
After it was over, Nie Xueping got up and went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Song Yuzhang lay there for a while, then sat up, his mind clear. He thought: Nie Xueping likes me but won’t sleep with me—is he just stringing me along? At his age, is he still playing hard to get? That can’t be it, right?
Song Yuzhang even started to miss Chen Hanmin a little.
At least Chen Hanmin was honest about being shameless.
He pulled open the drawer of the bedside table, found a cigarette, lit it, and began to smoke. His gaze grew a little unfocused.
Desire is human nature—he wasn’t a monk. At twenty years old, if he didn’t want to do that, what else should he want? He’d been tense and hardworking enough lately.
Song Yuzhang stood up, cigarette in his mouth, and tucked his shirt into his pants.
Without a word, he walked to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.
“Mr. Nie, you can sleep here. I’m heading out.”
Nie Xueping opened the bathroom door, water still dripping from his hands.
His clothes were, of course, a mess. He hadn’t put his tie back on; it hung loosely from the collar of his shirt. He had rebuttoned most of the buttons—just two were left undone, revealing a glimpse of a strong chest that didn’t quite match his usually gentle and refined appearance.
Song Yuzhang admitted that Nie Xueping had a special kind of allure for him.
But Nie Xueping’s repeated refusals had really put a damper on things.
The first couple of times could still be chalked up to flirtation, but staying the night and still putting on airs—now that was just boring.
Song Yuzhang took the cigarette from his mouth and said politely, “If you want to leave, that’s fine too. Either way, I’m going.”
Nie Xueping looked at him and suddenly asked, “Where to?”
Song Yuzhang gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow. “Home. Where else?” His face then broke into a half-suppressed grin. “What do you think?”
Nie Xueping smiled too and reached out a wet palm to stroke Song Yuzhang’s cheek. His hand was warm, but the water was cold—at first, the cold made Song Yuzhang’s face go numb, then the heat of his hand made it flush and tingle. He took a drag from his cigarette, turned his face slightly, and exhaled the smoke onto Nie Xueping’s wrist with a faint smile. “Don’t tease me.”
Song Yuzhang was feeling a bit lazy and wasn’t in the mood to argue. Nie Xueping was gentle by nature, and there was really nothing wrong with him—except that he didn’t want to sleep with him. But Song Yuzhang had never been one to force things, no matter the position.
He turned to leave, but as his cheek brushed past Nie Xueping’s palm, he was pulled back. His lips were immediately captured in a kiss. Nie Xueping had kissed him many times before, always with restrained tenderness—but this time, the kiss was deep enough to make his tongue go numb and left his mouth filled with a swallowing, stirring heat.
Nie Xueping suddenly let out a muffled grunt.
Song Yuzhang opened his eyes and glanced over. As if waking from a dream, he hurriedly pulled his hand away.
He had forgotten that he was holding a cigarette—and in the heat of the moment, he had pressed the lit end against Nie Xueping’s shoulder!
Nie Xueping’s shirt had been burned through, leaving a small hole that exposed a patch of reddened, scorched skin. It looked quite painful.
“You okay?”
Song Yuzhang lifted the shirt to check through the small burn hole, but before he could get a good look, his waist was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace.
Nie Xueping held him close, arms wrapped around him completely.
Song Yuzhang felt it—Nie Xueping’s embrace was warm and firm, the kind that made people feel safe and completely at ease.
His eyes closed again involuntarily, the tip of his nose crinkling slightly, lashes trembling gently.
He stubbed out the cigarette, turned his face, and stuck out his tongue to seek Nie Xueping’s lips once more.
His palm slowly slipped under Nie Xueping’s shirt.
He felt the contours of his back—the shifting muscles, the straight spine, the smooth and heated skin, and the slightly rough texture of the burn.
Through half-lowered lashes, their eyes met. Their lips, having just parted, joined again—kissing and pausing, again and again, until both their lips were damp and glistening.
Song Yuzhang drew in a deep breath, the intermingled scent of the two of them lingering thick in the air, entering his nostrils with a kind of heady intoxication.
His breathing deepened—and so did Nie Xueping’s.
Song Yuzhang draped his arms over Nie Xueping’s shoulders, met his eyes, and said playfully, “Baby, you really are too much for me.”
Nie Xueping’s expression flickered, and then, with a sudden burst of strength, he lifted Song Yuzhang into his arms in a bridal carry. Caught slightly off guard, Song Yuzhang looked at him with surprise—only for Nie Xueping to lean down and kiss him again.
After that, things quickly spiraled out of control.
This was Song Yuzhang’s second time being on the bottom.
The first time had happened far too suddenly—shock and panic had overwhelmed most of his thoughts. Even if there had been anything special about the experience, all of it had been buried under the chaos.
This time, though, he was prepared—completely and consciously—and truly tasted this entirely different kind of sensation.
One of them was a youth in the prime of his life, the other a man in his full maturity. In the end, Song Yuzhang got more than his fill—far more.
He really was a bit overwhelmed.
But alongside that overwhelm was a kind of deep, indulgent pleasure—so much so that it left him wanting more after every pause, and when they finally did it again, it was just as overwhelming. Back and forth like that, he finally understood what it meant to be on the edge of life and death from desire.
Song Yuzhang realized just how narrow his view had been before.
Because, honestly—it felt amazing.
He didn’t know whether it was because Nie Xueping was especially good, or for some other reason—whatever the case, it just felt good.
Of course, compared to Meng Tingjing, Nie Xueping was leagues ahead—not just a little better. After all, he had age and experience; he wasn’t some clueless young man. Even after a whole night of intense action, Song Yuzhang still felt wonderful—a kind of bone-deep, lazy comfort.
The blanket was loosely draped over his waist. Song Yuzhang reclined there, smoking a cigarette, one leg thrown across Nie Xueping’s body, gazing at him with a faint smile.
Nie Xueping was usually dressed so tightly and properly that not a sliver of skin could be seen. It was rare to see any part of his body exposed. But now, he was completely bare—his shoulders revealed strong, well-defined muscles and bones, exuding power. The slight burn on his shoulder had been a little scratched, making the sense of violation all the more pronounced. Song Yuzhang turned over and straddled him, a cigarette between his lips, placing a light hand over Nie Xueping’s burn. “This needs medicine.”
Nie Xueping supported him by the waist. “We’ll deal with it when we get back.”
Song Yuzhang blew smoke in his face, staring at his handsome features. With every puff, he felt a wicked thrill, a kind of blasphemy.
Nie Xueping—such a straight-laced man—and yet in bed… he was actually quite something.
Ha!
Biting down on his cigarette, Song Yuzhang suddenly shifted his weight backward and looked at Nie Xueping with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Mr. Nie, are you planning to just leave it like that?”
The room was dimly lit, Nie Xueping’s face partially hidden in shadow. He wrapped both arms around Song Yuzhang, but instead of responding, he gently lifted him off his body and laid him down beside him.
Song Yuzhang held his cigarette and looked up. Nie Xueping leaned over and kissed his fingers.
“I’m leaving it.”
Song Yuzhang rolled over, half his body draped across Nie Xueping. His skin was warm—comforting in the chill of autumn. While smoking, Song Yuzhang said, “Why? You think I can’t keep going?”
His hand slipped lower, only to be stopped again by Nie Xueping, who pulled him into an embrace and kissed him deeply, even drawing back the smoke from Song Yuzhang’s mouth. Song Yuzhang quickly put the cigarette out in the ashtray behind him and hugged him back, saying, “Or is it you, Mr. Nie, who can’t go on?”
The light had been off the entire night before. In the chaos, they had kissed constantly, but Song Yuzhang hadn’t really seen Nie Xueping’s face clearly. Now, with faint morning light seeping through the curtains, he squinted and looked at him. Still, he couldn’t see it well—only that Nie Xueping’s lips were pressed in a tight line, maintaining that same restrained curve, full of endurance and self-control.
Someone from the Nie family brought them two full sets of clean clothes, inside and out. Song Yuzhang had long since stopped feeling awkward about such things. After showering, he calmly got dressed. Nie Xueping also got dressed—but was immediately undressed again by Song Yuzhang, who called for someone to bring burn ointment. He gently applied it to the wound on Nie Xueping’s shoulder. “This might leave a scar.”
“Then let it,” Nie Xueping replied.
After Song Yuzhang finished applying the ointment, he even helped Nie Xueping button up his shirt. As he buttoned it, he chuckled, “Left you a souvenir on our first time—what am I supposed to do next time?”
Nie Xueping wrapped his arms around him, lips close to his ear, “There’s going to be a next time?”
Song Yuzhang rested his hand on one of the buttons. “What, Mr. Nie—are you not satisfied with me?”
“It’s not that…”
Nie Xueping chuckled softly, leaning in closer to his ear. “Seems I was overthinking.”
Song Yuzhang leaned against his chest for a while, thinking. Then he looked up and asked, “Did Meng Tingjing say something to you?”
Nie Xueping just smiled and didn’t answer.
Song Yuzhang figured, with Meng Tingjing’s temperament, he probably warned Nie Xueping that he’d be the type to sleep with someone and vanish right after. Well… not entirely wrong. He laughed and said, “So Mr. Nie believes whatever people tell him that easily?”
“I believe it—and I don’t.”
Nie Xueping gave his usual vague answer. Song Yuzhang waited for him to elaborate.
But Nie Xueping said nothing more—he simply kissed Song Yuzhang’s temple and said, “Hungry? Let’s eat something.”
Breakfast was prepared by a local chef, delicately arranged in small portions.
Just as Song Yuzhang was about to sit down to eat, Nie Xueping stopped him.
Nie Xueping walked over to the sofa and fetched some cushions.
Song Yuzhang’s face flushed slightly. Though they had indeed spent the night together, wasn’t this a bit too obvious? His worldview had only just broadened; he still wasn’t comfortable exposing things so plainly in front of others. There were so many people watching… did they all need to know what the two of them had done last night?
Nie Xueping brought back two cushions and placed one on each of their chairs. Calmly, he said, “The weather’s chilly.”
Song Yuzhang exhaled in relief. He also realized how considerate Nie Xueping truly was—thinking of everything, anticipating his needs. It made him feel no regret at all for choosing him.
Song Yuzhang sat down, and sure enough, the cushion made things much more comfortable. He hadn’t actually gotten injured the night before, but after Nie Xueping sat down, he mischievously reached under the table and touched his thigh. Nie Xueping looked up and smiled at him, reached under the table, pinched his hand gently, and said, “Eat your breakfast.”
Song Yuzhang’s first experience had been a disaster from start to finish. But this time, with Nie Xueping, everything had been handled with care and consideration. It made him feel again that age really did have its advantages.
Just as the two were having a peaceful breakfast, a servant from the Nie household came in with news.
“Young Master… Old Master Meng has passed away.”
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