TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 42

Zhuang Yanyu was watching with great focus at first and didn’t notice anyone coming in.

It wasn’t until Wen Chenxi walked up to the desk that he saw him.

Zhuang Yanyu blinked in surprise and instinctively asked, “Is dinner ready?”

He had wanted to help with cooking, but A-Xi had told him it wasn’t necessary—just two simple stir-fried dishes for tonight—and sent him to rest. That’s how he’d ended up in the study.

Wen Chenxi hummed in reply, his gaze falling to the computer screen. He paused slightly at the sight of the rather… eye-catching images, then turned to look at Zhuang Yanyu.

Zhuang Yanyu had already hit pause. For some reason, being caught by his buddy while “studying” this sort of thing made him feel strangely embarrassed. It was rare for him to feel embarrassed about anything, but right now he knew perfectly well that’s exactly what he was feeling.

Wen Chenxi asked, “What are you doing?”

It was clearly a rhetorical question—anyone with eyes could see what Zhuang Yanyu was doing.

Zhuang Yanyu’s gaze wavered a bit, but he still answered honestly, “Studying.”

Wen Chenxi: “Studying?”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Mm. This is a blind spot in my knowledge. I’ve never really understood it before.”

Wen Chenxi: “Never understood what?”

Zhuang Yanyu: “This.”

He explained how he’d recently helped the police shut down a few websites, and voiced his confusion: “I never understood why two men could also be involved in… explicit material. Now I know.”

He had to admit, seeing two men do something like that had been a bit of a shock.

It turned out he’d been quite ignorant—he’d never known before.

Only after watching the video did he realize he hadn’t been seeing the full picture. Apparently, that part of the body could not only solve one’s own physical needs, but could also help solve someone else’s.

Even if the two “problems” were different.

It was mostly because his body’s previous host had only ever married women, leaving him with very little knowledge in this area.

Zhuang Yanyu had approached this with the mindset of learning new information, feeling like he’d just picked up another impressive piece of human knowledge today.

His worldly experience was really expanding! He was feeling more and more like a real human being.

Wen Chenxi asked, “And after learning that—then what?”

Zhuang Yanyu blinked. “Then?”

What more was there supposed to be?

Wen Chenxi fixed his eyes on him. “I mean, after watching it… do you have any thoughts?”

Zhuang Yanyu actually paused to think. “I do have a thought.”

Wen Chenxi’s heartbeat sped up, his breath going softer. “What thought?”

He knew full well that even if Zhuang Yanyu had a thought, it probably wouldn’t involve him.

But he still wanted to ask, to test it—just in case he got a different answer.

There were so many other questions he wanted to ask, like: When you saw this, what came to mind? Did you picture it with me and you? Why the sudden curiosity? You didn’t even know about this before—who made you interested? Was it me?

Wen Chenxi realized he was actually looking forward to the possibility—

Looking forward to the answer being him and not someone else.

Just the thought of that possibility filled him with an unprecedented thrill.

Zhuang Yanyu spoke in a slightly odd tone: “We men really can’t have children, right?”

Wen Chenxi’s flicker of hope dimmed. Even though he knew he’d probably been overthinking, hearing a reason that wasn’t about him still brought disappointment.

Wen Chenxi: “That’s your thought?”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Yeah. Because in the video just now, one of the men kept saying he wanted to have the other man’s baby.”

That had made him mentally review the male anatomy again—nope, definitely not possible.

But those two had acted like it was possible, leaving Zhuang Yanyu’s brain buffering.

Wen Chenxi: “…Alright.”

Zhuang Yanyu thought for a moment. His buddy was still standing there, eyes fixed on him with just the tiniest hint of… expectation?

Zhuang Yanyu analyzed the situation and came to a conclusion:

His buddy had probably never seen anything like this either—and wanted to study it too.

He quietly shuffled over, trying to make room for him.

But no matter how big the chair was, it was basically made for one person. Even though he was slim, and the leather seat had a lot of empty space beside him,

He compared the empty space to his buddy’s build and realized sitting together would definitely be cramped.

So he got up, went to the other side of the room, brought over another chair, placed it in front of the desk, and said to Wen Chenxi: “Do you want to watch together?”

Wen Chenxi had originally been planning to walk over, close the computer, and tell Zhuang Yanyu to come eat dinner.

But seeing that, he realized his body didn’t really want to leave.

His body moved faster than his mind—he sat down beside him, his voice a little hoarse: “Do you want to watch this with me?”

Zhuang Yanyu asked him, “Do you not understand either?”

Wen Chenxi didn’t say anything.

Zhuang Yanyu said, “If you don’t understand, we can learn together.”

He had looked it up — in university dorms, quite a few guys watched this kind of material together.

Sometimes, they even shared it with each other.

He and A-Xi were good brothers, so learning together didn’t seem strange. Maybe they could even discuss it.

Wen Chenxi’s gaze landed on Zhuang Yanyu’s face.

He saw that Zhuang Yanyu looked surprisingly serious, and didn’t feel there was anything inappropriate about this at all — as if inviting someone to watch this kind of video together was completely normal.

Of course, maybe in certain circles, it was normal.

But that came with a condition — it had to be within that particular circle.

Zhuang Yanyu had never been part of such a circle before, nor had he ever been exposed to such things.

So why would he suddenly get the idea to “study” this?

And when he invited him to watch together, did he really not think it was strange?

Turns out — no, he didn’t.

Wen Chenxi found that Zhuang Yanyu, at times like this, became very straightforward again.

Doing something that could easily be misunderstood, yet exuding nothing but the air of reinforced steel.

Zhuang Yanyu had no idea how complicated Wen Chenxi’s thoughts were. He had already hit “play” again.

But just moments ago, when he was watching with a serious, learning-focused attitude, everything changed once there was another person beside him — now there was a slight awkwardness.

He didn’t even understand where this awkwardness came from.

After all, according to his observations and collected data:

Normal people had always learned together in groups, from childhood through school.

Even in his previous life in the cultivation world, there were sects and immortal mansions where people learned together.

Since people always learned together, why should he feel awkward?

Other people learned in large groups; now he was just learning with his brother.

No — he had to adjust quickly.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t seem like a proper ordinary person.

Look at A-Xi — so calm!

Zhuang Yanyu sat back up straight, spine erect, readjusted his mindset, and prepared to watch seriously again.

Two minutes later.

Zhuang Yanyu’s gaze began to wander slightly.

He realized he couldn’t get into the learning mindset anymore.

The presence of his good brother beside him was too strong — impossible to ignore.

And Zhuang Yanyu keenly noticed that ever since Wen Chenxi sat down, his gaze had never left him.

Did he not want to study?

Unable to resist, Zhuang Yanyu slowly turned his head — and met Wen Chenxi’s eyes head-on.

Zhuang Yanyu’s face warmed slightly. He pursed his lips and asked, “A-Xi, why are you looking at me the whole time?”

In his mind, he was thinking: Why not look at the computer? Why look at me?

It’s not like there’s a screen playing on my face.

If he were still a chip, he could at least cast the video to himself, but right now he was just an ordinary person.

Wen Chenxi: “Because I don’t want to look at them.”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Oh.”

But then he thought — strange.

If he didn’t want to watch, why stay?

Zhuang Yanyu hit “pause” again, and even closed the window entirely.

“Then I won’t watch either.”

Wen Chenxi asked, “Weren’t you studying?”

Zhuang Yanyu pursed his lips. He wanted to say, With you here distracting me, how am I supposed to learn?

But he thought — A-Xi probably wasn’t doing it on purpose. He likely didn’t know he was a distraction.

After all, he himself had never been distracted by others before.

Zhuang Yanyu stood up. “Let’s eat first — otherwise it’ll get cold.”

Wen Chenxi: “Alright.”

Both of them stood up.

Wen Chenxi noticed that Zhuang Yanyu hadn’t closed the laptop completely — so he knew Zhuang Yanyu would probably come back to it after dinner.

Privately, Wen Chenxi didn’t want him watching that stuff.

First, none of it was censored — the thought of Zhuang Yanyu looking at those bodies made him uncomfortable.

But rationally, he told himself —

Let him watch. Maybe if he learns more, he’ll turn bent.

With that little thought in mind, Wen Chenxi simply pretended not to notice, rubbed his head, and said, “Wash your hands, let’s eat.”

They went downstairs to the kitchen together.

As they walked side-by-side, Wen Chenxi deliberately observed Zhuang Yanyu’s expression and body.

Seeing that there was no physical reaction at all, he knew that when Zhuang Yanyu had been watching earlier, he truly had no feelings about it.

He sighed inwardly.

Sure enough — he had been seriously studying.

His mind hadn’t gone anywhere else.

If he were bent, watching that kind of video should’ve caused at least a little… physical reaction, right?

And even if not physically, there should’ve been some awkwardness in his expression.

But this Yu had none.

After washing his hands, Zhuang Yanyu sat down at the table.

Wen Chenxi had already served the food — three simple homestyle dishes, one meat and two vegetables, all light in flavor.

When the two lived together, Wen Chenxi usually cooked more often, while Zhuang Yanyu helped wash the vegetables.

So Zhuang Yanyu was used to Wen Chenxi’s cooking and felt that his brother’s dishes suited his taste perfectly.

Once Wen Chenxi sat down, Zhuang Yanyu began eating slowly.

Wen Chenxi reminded him, “Don’t eat so fast. Eat like you used to — take your time.”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Oh.”

He swallowed a mouthful of rice.

“It’s night now, not morning or noon — at night you can eat slowly anyway.”

This was clearly written in his “Complete Guide to Ordinary Human Behavior.”

Since he had already corrected this point, there was no need to dwell on it anymore.

Wen Chenxi: “With me, morning and noon are the same.”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Okay.”

Wen Chenxi’s gaze softened. “Keep eating.”

At the table, neither of them spoke much.

Wen Chenxi didn’t want to disrupt Zhuang Yanyu’s eating rhythm—he could easily choke.

Zhuang Yanyu, on the other hand, simply wasn’t much of a talker.

It had always been this silent during meals, so in theory, Zhuang Yanyu should be used to it.

But for some reason today, he kept glancing—intentionally or not—at Wen Chenxi.

And every time he looked over, he found Wen Chenxi was also looking at him.

Zhuang Yanyu truly couldn’t figure it out—why was his brother staring at him all the time?

Back in the study just now, he had been staring at him.

And now again.

Still puzzled, after swallowing a mouthful of rice, he asked directly.

Wen Chenxi countered, “If you weren’t looking at me, how would you know I was looking at you?”

Zhuang Yanyu thought his brother had a point—he had been looking too.

But something still felt… off.

He gave Wen Chenxi a suspicious glance.

Wen Chenxi’s expression didn’t change; he calmly kept eating.

So Zhuang Yanyu could only continue eating as well.

Something’s odd about A’Xi tonight, he thought.

And that oddness lasted through the end of dinner.

Usually, after meals, Zhuang Yanyu cleaned up the dishes and the table—his OCD demanded that the kitchen be spotless afterward, with everything neatly arranged.

On this point, Wen Chenxi always let him be and never competed for the task.

But tonight, Zhuang Yanyu was surprised to see his good brother… for some reason… take over all the work that was supposed to be his.

Zhuang Yanyu hesitated but followed behind Wen Chenxi.

When Wen Chenxi didn’t place the chopsticks neatly, Zhuang Yanyu took them back out and aligned each pair—five pairs stacked in a row, two layers, arranged like a rectangular box, perfectly straight.

When the spoons Wen Chenxi set were slightly crooked, he adjusted them so every single spoon faced the exact same way.

When he saw Wen Chenxi hang the wet dishcloth—dripping—by the sink, Zhuang Yanyu finally couldn’t hold it in.

“A’Xi, you didn’t wring this at all—there’s still so much water. Why don’t I wring it instead?”

He would always wring it until no water dripped before hanging it up.

Wen Chenxi: “It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Zhuang Yanyu had to suppress the urge to grab it from him, instead staring at Wen Chenxi’s hands, afraid he wouldn’t wring hard enough and leave water inside.

By the time Wen Chenxi finished cleaning—taking twice as long as Zhuang Yanyu usually did—Zhuang Yanyu visibly deflated.

He asked, “Can I clean it again?”

Wen Chenxi: “Aren’t you tired?”

Zhuang Yanyu: “I’m not tired.”

But looking at the kitchen, he did feel a bit mentally exhausted.

Wen Chenxi almost said: Weren’t you going to go back to the study after dinner to ‘study’… those ‘resources’? Why are you still here??

He had deliberately done all the work himself to leave him time to “study.”

But saying that aloud would sound… odd.

So Wen Chenxi chose another excuse:

“I mean about work—Old Ji asked you to handle a firewall job. He already told me, and he said you agreed. You already have several projects and multiple port systems waiting for you, and now you’re helping him with this too. I’m worried…”

That part was genuine.

He really did worry Zhuang Yanyu was overworking, and hoped he could relax after work instead of adding pressure.

“It’s fine. I agreed because it’s really simple,” Zhuang Yanyu said. “Besides, I was planning to redo our company’s firewall anyway. Our company’s firewall is really…”

He glanced at Wen Chenxi’s expression and, seeing no reaction, continued, “…really too weak.”

He even wanted to ask—how exactly was this firewall supposed to stop hackers?

Given that AzureTech possessed so much advanced technology, surely other companies or industries would be envious and cautious.

Could such a weak firewall really keep attackers out?

In Zhuang Yanyu’s opinion, plenty of hackers had probably, like him, quietly come and gone, already mapping out the system.

Wen Chenxi said with a complicated look, “Have you considered… maybe it’s just that you’re too skilled, Yuyu?”

Zhuang Yanyu thought about it, then nodded matter-of-factly. “That’s possible.”

Wen Chenxi couldn’t help but laugh at his natural confidence and asked curiously, “How exactly did you teach yourself? Just from reading books?”

Zhuang Yanyu replied vaguely, “Mm, I’ve been reading since I was little…”

Since he was little?

Wen Chenxi remembered he had lived with his “mother” back then, and asked, “Was your mother in this field too?”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Sort of.”

If he had a mother, that is.

From his vague tone, Wen Chenxi could tell he didn’t want to talk about his past.

He assumed it was something painful, so he didn’t push further.

Instead, he said, “Yuyu, if you want to do this project, of course I’ll agree, as long as you don’t feel tired. But even between brothers, accounts must be settled clearly—if you take it on, you can’t waive the payment.”

Zhuang Yanyu was about to say he had money, but Wen Chenxi seemed to know exactly what he was going to say and continued, “I know you’re not short on money right now, and neither is Uncle Zhuang. But you’re still young, and there’s a long road ahead—there will be many things you’ll need money for in the future. In short, just take it for now, and if you really never need it later, we can talk then.”

Zhuang Yanyu saw that he was very firm on this matter, knowing there was no room for negotiation, so he could only nod and say, “Alright.”

But then, as if thinking of something, he suddenly started laughing.

Wen Chenxi asked him, “What are you laughing at?”

Zhuang Yanyu kept his lips pressed together as he continued smiling, his shallow dimples making people itch to poke them.

Wen Chenxi was infected by his smile and couldn’t help but curl his lips as well. “So happy? Tell me so I can be happy too.”

Zhuang Yanyu said, “I was just thinking, A’Xi, you’re the same as me.”

“The same in what way?”

“The same in wanting the other person to make money.”

Zhuang Yanyu didn’t want to take money because he wanted his brother to earn a bit more.

But his brother insisted on giving him money—wasn’t that also so he could earn more?

Wen Chenxi found it amusing. “That’s it?”

“Yes,” Zhuang Yanyu said. “We’re both thinking for each other.”

Wen Chenxi smiled again, rubbing his head. “Then I’m actually the one taking advantage here. I should thank little Yu for bringing so many big orders to the company.”

Zhuang Yanyu bent his brows into a smile and even leaned his head closer for him to rub.

Seeing his brother enjoying it, he immediately made his own request: “Then can I tidy up the kitchen again?”

He was already about to lose control!

Wen Chenxi: “…”

The topic had gone so far off course—how was he still thinking about that?

Wen Chenxi could only remind him, “Aren’t you supposed to be ‘studying’? The computer in the study is still on.”

Of course, Zhuang Yanyu remembered. “I’ll tidy the kitchen first, then go. It’ll be quick.”

Wen Chenxi had no way to deal with him and could only let him be.

Zhuang Yanyu was quick and experienced, so tidying really didn’t take long—just about five minutes.

Once done, Zhuang Yanyu was ready to head back to the study to keep watching videos.

Wen Chenxi was also planning to go to the master bedroom for a shower.

The study and master bedroom weren’t far apart. Before going into the study, Zhuang Yanyu hesitated for a moment, holding the door and asking, “Then… do you want to watch together?”

He felt he had to quickly adapt to ordinary people’s study methods—he couldn’t always be studying alone.

Wen Chenxi: “…”

Wen Chenxi removed his glasses and rubbed his brow.

Did this Yu even realize how much that sounded like an invitation to do something else?

Seeing him stay silent, Zhuang Yanyu called again in puzzlement, “A’Xi?”

Wen Chenxi put his glasses in his pocket and looked up. “Zhuang Yanyu.”

“?”

Wen Chenxi rarely called him by his full name, which left Zhuang Yanyu a little confused.

“Come here.”

“Oh.”

He obediently walked over to Wen Chenxi, eyes full of doubt.

Looking into his eyes, Wen Chenxi said, “I don’t want to watch those videos with you. Do you want to know why?”

“Why?”

Wen Chenxi didn’t answer right away. Instead, he quietly looked at him, his gaze moving from his brows to the bridge of his nose, then landing on his lips.

Because they were close, Zhuang Yanyu clearly noticed that his brother’s breathing had changed—lighter, but the warm breath falling on his face carried heat.

Finally, Wen Chenxi spoke. “Because I… would want to kiss you.”

Zhuang Yanyu blinked. “It’s not like you haven’t kissed me before.”

Wen Chenxi’s fingers lightly brushed over his lips. “Kiss here.”

This hit Zhuang Yanyu’s blind spot.

Kissing lips—wasn’t that something only husbands and couples did?

Could brothers do that too?

After saying this, Wen Chenxi moved his hand away, then lowered his head slightly and very lightly, very quickly touched his lips. “Like this. Understand?”

Zhuang Yanyu froze on the spot.

He touched his lips, frowning slightly, and asked again, “Why?”

Wen Chenxi met his gaze. “Because I like you. I like little Yu.”

Zhuang Yanyu thought, I like you too, but why don’t I ever want to kiss your mouth?

Wen Chenxi knew he had been a bit impulsive.

He was well aware the other man was straighter than steel bars, and he shouldn’t have confessed so soon.

But this Yu kept inviting him to watch those videos together—anyone would be tempted.

Or perhaps, Zhuang Yanyu’s proactive learning about relationships between men had, on some subconscious level, encouraged Wen Chenxi and given him the courage to do something he would normally overthink.

Wen Chenxi quietly watched him, like a criminal awaiting judgment—execution, prison, or acquittal—waiting for just one word from him.

But Zhuang Yanyu didn’t say anything.

He touched his own lips again, then looked at Wen Chenxi’s, as if still puzzled by something.

His mind kept circling around one question:

Brothers don’t kiss like that, right?

Did A’Xi mistake me for a girl?

And he’s not even drunk.

If you like someone, does that mean you’ll want to kiss them?

He subconsciously reached out and touched Wen Chenxi’s lips.

Wen Chenxi narrowed his eyes, his voice slightly hoarse. “Little Yu.”

Zhuang Yanyu was startled and quickly pulled his hand back, wanting to say he didn’t mean it.

The next moment, the man’s face suddenly loomed closer, and soft lips pressed against his again.

This time it wasn’t the quick, almost nonexistent brush from before—Zhuang Yanyu could clearly feel his mouth being blocked, being covered, even as if the other wanted to swallow him whole.

Zhuang Yanyu’s eyes widened: “???”

Was he supposed to ask if something about this was wrong?

Zhuang Yanyu was so dazed from the kiss that his breathing had become as rapid as Wen Chenxi’s, leaving him with the sensation of being unable to catch his breath. His heart was racing fast.

It felt like his head had gone woozy from a lack of oxygen.

It wasn’t until he was pressed down into the soft, large bed that Zhuang Yanyu finally got a moment to breathe. His eyes were dazed: “A-Xi?”

Wen Chenxi gave a low “Mm,” without lifting his head.

Zhuang Yanyu wanted to say something, but suddenly froze again—his bare thighs met the cool air, sending a chill through him. He instinctively pulled the blanket over his legs while asking in confusion, “A-Xi, why are you taking off my pants?”

Author’s note:

PS—

Wen Chenxi: No need to learn from videos anymore, I’ll teach you.

Zhuang Yanyu: ????