Disobedience To Control chapter 24
How did you know
It had been half a month since they last got intimate, claiming not to want it was a lie. Song Siheng’s back tightened, and then it was like lava melting, magma flowing into glaciers.
Having the lights on and off were completely different experiences. In the past, the intimacy between them was only stimulated by sound and touch. But now, under the light, the reddish lips, slightly trembling eyelashes, and even the veins on their arms made one’s heart tremble.
With Yang Xiaobei still bearing wounds, the medical gauze on him brushing against Song Siheng’s shoulder, with each breath feeling like an igniter.
Song Siheng felt that Yang Xiaobei was a little different that day, but he couldn’t quite figure out how.
………
After everything settled down, Song Siheng lifted his eyelids slightly in his drowsiness, only to see Yang Xiaobei sitting on the edge of the bed. The curtains in the master bedroom were not completely drawn, and a hint of dawn appeared in the sky. The faint light streamed through the gauzy curtains, casting a blurry shadow on his nose, and the lowered eyelashes cast a vague shadow on the lower eyelids.
The scars on his back seemed to have melted away in the morning mist, becoming hazy.
When Song Siheng finally woke up, it was already past ten in the morning on New Year’s Day. After a night of rigorous activity, his abdomen was hollow, and hunger struck.
Glancing around again, he noticed that Yang Xiaobei was no longer in the bedroom. Getting up to look around, he saw the clothes Yang Xiaobei had changed out of yesterday still lying there; it seemed he hadn’t left.
Feeling relieved, Song Siheng went to the bathroom for a quick wash, then put on his pajamas and left the bedroom.
The entire second floor was quiet, with no signs of anyone moving.
He descended the stairs, but there was no one on the sofa in the living room. Standing still, Song Siheng heard voices coming from the north side.
“You’re up?” Yang Xiaobei peeked out from the kitchen and asked.
Rubbing his temples, Song Siheng squinted and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Making breakfast.” Yang Xiaobei wiped his hands clean and walked out, pointing to the bubbling soup pot in the kitchen.
Song Siheng finally saw his whole body, clicked his tongue, and said, “Remember to wear pants next time!”
Underneath the apron, Yang Xiaobei was wearing only underwear, facing the large window in the kitchen to the north, shamelessly exposed.
Yang Xiaobei seemed to have misunderstood: “Next time? Do you mean I can come again next time?”
Song Siheng was immune to his way of thinking, pulled out a dining chair and sat down. Two plates of food were already placed on the table. One plate contained two fried eggs with a little soy sauce on top, and the other plate contained sliced pineapple and raspberries.
“Where did you get these fruits?” Song Siheng asked.
“Ordered takeout this morning.” Yang Xiaobei turned off the heat from the pot and scooped out two bowls of pear soup. “But the takeout in your wealthy area is really expensive. These two boxes of fruit cost me nearly a hundred bucks!”
He handed the chopsticks to Song Siheng, skillfully as if he had been living in this house for half a year.
Song Siheng didn’t usually have breakfast at home; he would usually have a sandwich and Americano from the cafe in his company.
“You’ll gain a lot of healthy weight.” Song Siheng rarely praised him.
“You don’t know me well. I’ll gain a lot indeed. When I was a kid and joined the team, I did everything myself.” Yang Xiaobei said proudly.
“When did you start learning how to swim?” Song Siheng asked casually as he picked up a piece of pineapple with his fork.
Yang Xiaobei fell silent for a few seconds, as if lost in memories, before answering, “I don’t remember, maybe when I was five or six.”
“Were you discovered by a coach at school, or how did you join the team?” Song Siheng knew a few professional athletes abroad; most of them were picked by coaches at a very young age and then started professional training.
“Just like everyone else, I was selected along the way.” Yang Xiaobei didn’t elaborate much, so Song Siheng didn’t ask further.
“Have you been to the South Riverbank?” Yang Xiaobei suddenly asked, looking up at him.
“The South Riverbank? Of course, I have.”
The character “Jiang” in Jiangcheng also came from the South Riverbank. Most children in Jiangcheng grew up playing by the South Riverbank. However, now, the once mudflat had been developed into a riverside new town with high-end hotels and office buildings lining the river.
The South Riverbank had also become the dividing line between the east and west directions of the city, gradually losing its original cultural significance.
“I swam in the South River when I was a kid.” Yang Xiaobei said with a smile, “In weather like this, around four or five degrees above zero, I would still plunge in. How about you?”
Song Siheng didn’t have any pleasant memories of playing by the South River: “I went there for a party recently.”
“Oh…” Yang Xiaobei nodded and didn’t continue the topic.
The pear soup had cooled down, and Song Siheng scooped up a bit with a spoon and took a sip.
“Don’t put so much sugar next time.”
Yang Xiaobei chuckled, “ge, I didn’t put any sugar. These pears are naturally sweet.”
The word “ge” made Song Siheng pause for a moment. The two glanced at each other but quickly looked away.
With the New Year holiday rare in leisure, Yang Xiaobei stayed for one night and had already familiarized himself with the layout of the villa.
After breakfast, he lounged on the sofa in the living room, turned on the LCD screen, and played a lively variety show as background music.
“Your place really feels like Iron Man’s home.” Yang Xiaobei turned to look at him, “Don’t tell me you also have an electronic butler.”
“I’m not that interested.” Although Song Siheng worked in the tech industry, he didn’t have many requirements for his own home. He even restrained himself in using smart home devices.
Song Siheng enjoyed his alone time and didn’t like the feeling of being invaded by strangers or machines in his life.
However, now he had housed a living person in his home.
Yang Xiaobei stayed in Song Siheng’s house for the second day, fulfilling his duties with him at night and taking care of his meals and daily life during the day.
Yang Xiaobei also gained a deeper understanding of Song Siheng’s lifestyle habits. Song Siheng didn’t like spicy food, was allergic to kiwi, usually needed a few minutes to wake up, and couldn’t be forcibly awakened.
Just one day and night passed, and Song Siheng had somehow gotten used to this person’s presence.
In the evening, while Song Siheng was dealing with some emails in the study, footsteps thudded up the stairs.
Soon, the door to the study was pushed open a crack.
Yang Xiaobei poked his head in, “Boss, I need a favor from you.”
Apart from asking for money, Yang Xiaobei rarely made requests to him. Rubbing his eyes, Song Siheng asked him, “What’s up? Did you blow up the kitchen?”
“How is that possible?” Yang Xiaobei pulled out a small booklet from behind, “We were assigned a little homework for our advanced calculus class.”
“You still have to study math?” Song Siheng raised his hand in invitation as he welcomed him in.
Yang Xiaobei cleared his throat, “Our humanities classes are also demanding, you know? This is due for the next class.”
Song Siheng took the booklet from his hand, opened the page he had folded, and glanced at it hastily, “You can’t even solve such simple problems?”
Yang Xiaobei shook his head, “It’s all like hieroglyphics, who can understand this?”
Song Siheng looked skeptical, “Didn’t you study this in high school?”
Yang Xiaobei struggled to remember for a moment, then looked up and replied, “I scored sixty-nine in math before.”
Song Siheng glanced at him, “Sixty-nine isn’t too bad.”
“Out of a hundred and five.”
Song Siheng sighed deeply.
Yang Xiaobei grabbed his arm and shook it, “Hey, since I taught you freestyle swimming, teach me, will you?”
Song Siheng brushed off his arm and reached out his right hand to him, “Where’s the pen?”
Yang Xiaobei quickly handed over a black ink pen, “Hey, here it is.”
Song Siheng picked up the pen and swiftly drew two horizontal lines on the problem statement.
“For this first question, it’s obviously a simple continuous elementary function. The problem asks for the limit within the domain range. Just substitute the value of this point directly, and you’ll get the answer with a quick calculation.”
“The second question is also about finding a limit. Use equivalent infinitesimal substitution and do a simple calculation.”
There was no response from behind, so Song Siheng turned to look at him. Yang Xiaobei’s eyes were vacant and helpless, “How about you just do it for me directly? Just give me a random answer.”
Seeing that there were still many questions left, Song Siheng casually took his own framed glasses from the coffee table.
“You look really sexy when you’re solving problems,” Yang Xiaobei dragged a chair over and sat next to him, resting his chin on his hand, watching him swiftly complete a page of answers.
Song Siheng closed the booklet and tapped it on his forehead, “Exercise more, maybe you’ll be brought along for the next human evolution.”
The next morning, when Song Siheng got up, there was still no one around. After washing up, he walked to the living room on the first floor, where two plates of breakfast were still set on the table as usual. But there was no sign of Yang Xiaobei in the kitchen either.
Instead of sitting down to eat, Song Siheng turned back towards the stairs. It was then that he heard some noise coming from the basement.
Walking down the stairs, he found Yang Xiaobei doing pull-ups in the basement gym.
“Exercising this early?” he asked.
“Um—” Yang Xiaobei finished his last pull-up before relaxing his legs and coming down from the bar, “We don’t have training sessions, but we can’t slack off, or else our physical fitness will decline quickly.”
“Finished?” Song Siheng stood beside him.
“Yeah. Let’s go up.” Yang Xiaobei picked up the backpack from the floor and swung it onto his back. A small box fell out of the backpack with a clatter.
Before Song Siheng could see what it was, Yang Xiaobei quickly stuffed it back into the backpack and zipped it up.
The perimeter of Song Siheng’s house was surrounded by an aluminum fence. At some point, it had become entwined with quite a bit of wild grass, flourishing even in the winter.
Yang Xiaobei squatted by the wall, studying the clusters of wild grass for a while, “This should be evening primrose, it blooms in the spring.”
“You see, it’s amazing, there’s actually a tiny flower bud here.” Yang Xiaobei pointed at the flower bud and then suddenly turned to look at him.
In the faint morning light, he smiled at Song Siheng.
Song Siheng’s thoughts suddenly paused, unable to shift his gaze away from his face.
It wasn’t until Yang Xiaobei stood up and walked over to him, “Could you give me the passcode for the main gate? you can change it later.”
“Why do you need the passcode?”
“I can ride my bike to the nearby market tomorrow to buy fresh fruits and vegetables. Takeout is not cost-effective.” Yang Xiaobei reasoned, “Otherwise, I’ll have to bother you to open the door, and you don’t like being disturbed, do you?”
After a moment of thought, Song Siheng spoke, “0213.”
Yang Xiaobei looked at him suddenly, “Is that your birthday?”
“Yeah.” Song Siheng nodded. After a moment of consideration, he added, “Don’t come over without my permission. There are records of entering and exiting the gate. You know.”
Yang Xiaobei nodded repeatedly, “Don’t worry.”
Approaching noon, Song Siheng went out for a while and returned with a paper bag in his hand.
Yang Xiaobei stood in a corner of the living room, watching the lawnmower across the street through the French windows.
Song Siheng patted his arm from behind, and Yang Xiaobei turned back with a puzzled expression, “What’s wrong?”
Song Siheng handed him the paper bag, “Your Chinese New Year red envelope.”
Yang Xiaobei was stunned for a moment, then smiled after two seconds, happily taking the paper bag, which felt heavy.
“Thank you, Boss Song.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Song Siheng’s cheek.
However, Song Siheng took a step back, looking into his eyes, “How did you know my surname is Song?”