重燃

When Xie Zhinan saw Wen Yun again, it was at work.  

After five years apart, his ex-lover had become his superior.  

Their breakup had been peaceful—no grand romance, no messy entanglements.  

Perhaps it was precisely because of this that Xie Zhinan felt so humiliated.  

He had been nothing but an insignificant passerby in Wen Yun’s life. No matter how brightly he burned, he left not a single trace, only cold ashes for himself. 

…

During a company outing dinner, the conversation turned to relationships, and someone asked Xie Zhinan if he had ever been in love.

Wen Yun’s gaze shifted over, indifferent and cold.

The look pierced Xie Zhinan, who lowered his head and stammered, “N-no.”

That very night, there was a knock at Xie Zhinan’s hotel room door.

Wen Yun stood outside, his expression still cold even though he reeked of alcohol.

“Xie Zhinan, who taught you to lie?” Wen Yun cornered him inside, his voice low and restrained.

“…”

Xie Zhinan’s reluctance was evident, but Wen Yun smirked. “Never been in love?”

His fingers traced Xie Zhinan’s earlobe, which immediately flushed pink.

As his hand moved to Xie Zhinan’s collarbone, the skin around it began to tremble.

They knew each other’s bodies too well, and denial was pointless.

Xie Zhinan turned his face away, embarrassed.

Wen Yun paused his teasing and coaxed softly, “Xie Zhinan, have you been in love?”

“…Yes,” came the barely audible reply.

“With whom?”

“…You.”

….

Gentle and aloof top × Insecure and shy bottom

A story about past immaturity, misunderstandings, and growth. Not for those who expect extreme angst or drama.