Chapter 226 The Twenty-Eighth Day of Entering a Rebirth Novel

Chapter 226: The Twenty-Eighth Day of Transmigrating into a Rebirth Novel

An Yi paused, as if recalling something, then snorted, a mix of disdain and resignation in his voice: "I didn't want you in the first place..."

Huo Huai's heart sank instantly.

An Yi continued, "...but your scholarship is pretty solid."

Then An Yi's attention returned to Huo Huai's flushed face. He reached out his other hand, pinched Huo Huai's burning cheek, not hard, and teased with drunken, hazy eyes: "Are you an apple spirit? Why do you blush so easily?"

Feeling the cool fingertips on his face and listening to An Yi's tone, so unlike his usual gentle calm, Huo Huai was totally stunned, his mind going blank.

An Yi... knew!

An Yi had always known his feelings!

Seeing him still standing there dumbstruck and silent, An Yi seemed a bit annoyed.

His brows furrowed deeper, and the hand that had been stroking his cheek slid down, pinching Huo Huai's thin, tightly pressed lips in a slightly punishing manner.

"Hey!" An Yi's voice carried drunken dissatisfaction, mumbling: "Why aren't you talking? Like a mute."

He patted Huo Huai's face with his other hand, his tone scolding: "Idiot!"

Huo Huai gazed deeply at the An Yi before him—the one who, drunk, had shed all his masks, who threw tantrums, complained, and made such intimate moves.

That beauty, made even more striking by the vivid and lively expression, and the drunken scolding, sent a pleasurable tingle through his whole body.

Suddenly, he let out a soft laugh.

So cute.

An Yi seemed a bit baffled by this sudden laugh, or perhaps he was truly sleepy, the alcohol washing over him again.

He ignored Huo Huai, released him, and collapsed limply back into the soft pillow. Then he began to push him away, his voice slurred with sleep: "Out... out... I want to sleep..."

Seeing him like this, the curve of Huo Huai's lips grew even more pronounced. He caught An Yi's hand that was pushing him away and wrapped it in his own palm: "No!"

An Yi tilted his head on the pillow, his hazy eyes struggling to focus on the handsome face above him, and asked vaguely, "Then... what do you want?"

Huo Huai didn't answer.

He just leaned in, lowered his head, and gently pressed a kiss to An Yi's lips.

A brief contact, then he pulled away.

An Yi pressed his lips together as if savoring the lingering sensation, let out a hum, with drunken fussiness and a faint hint of provocation: "That's it?"

Huo Huai let out a low laugh: "Of course not."

He murmured, then leaned in again and kissed him deeply, parting his slightly open lips, seizing the sweetness and wine, tangling endlessly.

An Yi's eyes stayed open at first, staring at the intricate patterns on the canopy, blinking a few times as if dazed, or perhaps confirming something.

Finally, he slowly closed his eyes, and his arms slid around Huo Huai's neck.

The hand Huo Huai had braced beside him suddenly tightened, knuckles turning white; then it moved down to grip An Yi's pliant waist.

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Several personal attendants waiting outside the courtyard looked up at the moon, now setting westward, exchanging puzzled glances.

The young prince went in to attend to the Grand Preceptor's rest, why was he taking so long? Were they discussing some important scholarly matter?

A Taoist acolyte stepped forward, politely inviting them to rest in the side chamber, serving hot tea, then let out a big yawn of his own.

It was late; time to rest.

The next morning, bright spring light streamed into the room, casting bright spots on the smooth floor.

An Yi sat on the rumpled bed with a wooden face.

His nightgown was disheveled, revealing his elegantly shaped collarbones and an expanse of pale chest, upon which were conspicuously scattered several ambiguous, interlacing marks—bold and suggestive.

He pressed a hand to his still throbbing forehead, fragments of the chaotic night flashing through his mind—cool fingertips, burning kisses, a tight grip on his waist, heavy breathing, intertwined warmth...

What had he done?

What on earth had he done last night?!

Ahhh! Drinking always screws things up!

For the first time, An Yi's usually placid eyes flickered with something like chagrin and disbelief.

The hand pressed to his forehead trembled slightly; his head was splitting, unsure whether it was from the hangover or from anger at this absurd situation.

Just then, the door was gently pushed open, and a tall, straight figure entered steadily, carrying a bowl of hangover soup.

It was Huo Huai.

Comments section:

"What happened? How did they suddenly hook up? (Blushing.jpg)"

"I don't know! The author suddenly switched the perspective here!"

"Yesterday was the female lead's wedding, and the main couple were still putting on a show for each other, but these two already did the deed!"

"It's a drunken hookup!"

"Good thing An Yi was drunk, otherwise they wouldn't have messed around."

"Why? (Frowning) (Thinking)"

"Because if you're really wasted, you can't get hard!"

"What?"

"Hard!"

"Sustain, penetrate, carry through, implement, and... work it!"

"...? Is the person above making dirty jokes?"

"Girl, this isn't the wild zone."

"What's this called? 'About How My Crush is a Celestial but I Managed to Bag Him Through a Drunken Hookup'!"

"Best"

"!"

"Is that it? I'm laughing my head off!"

"..."

An Yi: ...

Huo Huai carried the bowl of hangover soup and walked slowly toward the bed.

He saw An Yi sitting vacantly on the messy bed. The morning light filtered through the window lattice, outlining a soft halo around him, illuminating the rare emptiness in his eyes.

His nightshirt was loosely open, the sash hanging slack, revealing the elegant lines of his collarbone and his fair, jade-like chest.

And on that originally flawless skin, there were now clearly imprinted several overlapping marks of intimacy—marks left from last night when he lost control.

An Yi held his head in one hand, pressing his fingers into his throbbing temple.

Huo Huai's heart instantly leaped into his throat; his chest felt like a frantic rabbit was trapped inside, pounding so hard his ears rang.

He forced himself to steady himself, pausing almost imperceptibly for a moment, then stepped forward more determinedly. He placed the bowl of hangover soup on the small table by the bedside. He set the bowl down with a soft clink.

"Teacher," he called softly, "have some hangover soup first. It will make you feel better."

An Yi lowered his hand from his forehead. He raised his eyes, giving Huo Huai a complicated look as he stood by the bed.

That gaze was full of disbelief and a feeling too complicated to describe about what he had done the night before.

Huo Huai met his gaze and flashed An Yi a clearly ingratiating smile.

An Yi: "..."