Chapter 349: The Twenty-eighth Day in the Entertainment World

Chapter 349: The Twenty-Eighth Day Inside the Entertainment World

The person outside the door was extremely patient. After waiting a few seconds and receiving no immediate response, they raised their hand again and knocked twice more, slow and unhurried.

Then, Yu Ziyun's voice came through the door. Muffled by the wood, his tone sounded even deeper and richer, carrying that unique magnetism of his, lingering in the quiet room: "It's me, Yu Ziyun."

An Yi stood still, his gaze fixed on the door, pausing for about two or three seconds.

Then, he lowered his hand, walked barefoot to the door, reached out, and unlocked it.

A soft click.

As the door swung inward, revealing a narrow gap, Yu Ziyun's tall figure came into view, backlit by the hallway light.

The corridor light streamed from behind him, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, yet leaving his face in shadow, his expression unreadable.

As the door opened, the warm yellow light from inside spilled out, illuminating the entryway. When Yu Ziyun's gaze landed on An Yi, his eyes widened slightly, involuntarily, in that instant.

The soft light from the room fell upon An Yi, who had just stepped out of the shower.

The light gray loungewear clung to his lean, elegantly proportioned frame, the collar slightly open, revealing a delicate, jade-like collarbone and a glimpse of smooth skin.

His damp black hair was tousled against his forehead and temples, the tips still beading with tiny droplets of water, making his complexion appear even paler and colder—like fine mutton-fat jade, glowing with a warm luster in the light.

His face, flushed from the hot shower, had lost its usual pallor, showing a faint, healthy pink that spread all the way to his ears.

His lips, damp from the steam, looked especially rosy and full, like morning-dew-kissed petals.

But the most devastating part was his eyes. Those eyes that were usually clear and calm, seemingly able to reflect everything yet holding nothing—now, beneath the dim, hazy glow of the bedside lamp, seemed veiled in a hazy mist, losing some of their distant, godlike aloofness and gaining a touch of soft, dazed innocence.

Even his long lashes seemed to carry tiny droplets of moisture, trembling gently with each blink, casting small, quivering shadows on his cheeks.

So... so tempting.

So alluring.

Yu Ziyun felt his breath catch almost imperceptibly, as if something had gripped his heart.

A surge of intense heat shot up from the base of his spine, rushing straight to his head, making his ears feel hot.

The burning sensation in his chest—that thing called possessiveness and desire, which he had suppressed with iron self-control for so long—seemed to find a crack in that moment, beginning to seethe and churn.

His throat went dry and tight.

But in the end, he forcibly suppressed his nearly out-of-control breathing and heartbeat, maintaining a calm exterior: "An Yi, may I come in?"

An Yi stepped back: "Please, come in."

Upon receiving the reply, Yu Ziyun took a small step forward, casually stepping inside, then reached behind him and gently closed the door.

The lock gave a soft click, shutting out everything outside.

His gaze swept across the room quickly and discreetly—the neatly made bed, the sheet music and books on the small table near the window, the lamp on the nightstand casting its warm yellow glow—and finally, as if pulled by a magnet, his gaze settled back on An Yi, unable to look away.

His eyes landed on the still-damp ends of An Yi's hair, where droplets of water slid slowly down the silky strands, disappearing into his collar.

Then they fell on his hand, hanging naturally at his side, fingertips still bearing faint traces of moisture, catching the light.

"Your hair isn't dry yet..." Yu Ziyun spoke, his voice coming out lower than before, even carrying a barely perceptible hoarseness. He cleared his throat, trying to make it sound more natural: "You'll catch a cold."

As he spoke, he almost unconsciously reached out, as if to gather An Yi's damp hair, or perhaps to grab a hairdryer.

But his fingertips, just before touching the cool, damp ends of An Yi's hair, stopped abruptly in midair.

His slender fingers paused for a moment, then shifted toward An Yi's other hand—the one that had just touched the wet hair and now hung naturally at his side.

"Here..." His gaze focused on An Yi's fingertips, his voice dropping even lower: "There's still water."

An Yi looked where he indicated, lowering his head slightly to look at his own right hand.

Indeed, on the tip of his index finger, a tiny, round droplet of water was gathering, about to fall, catching the soft light like a tiny diamond on a white jade fingertip.

He was about to raise his hand and wipe away this tiny bit of moisture with a tissue, but Yu Ziyun was faster.

Just as the droplet, finally released by gravity, was about to fall—

Yu Ziyun suddenly leaned forward without warning, closing the distance.

The space between them instantly shrank to a dangerously close distance. An Yi could even feel the warmth radiating from the other's body, and the heat of his breath, which had grown noticeably hotter.

He reached out, almost without thinking, and used his own dry, warm fingertip to catch the droplet falling from An Yi's finger.

"Plip."

The icy drop landed on the spot between Yu Ziyun's index and middle fingers, instantly dampening a small patch of skin.

The touch was cold, yet it seemed to carry an electric current, shooting up through his fingertips, sending a faint numbness through his entire arm and half his body, followed by an indescribable, almost melting shiver.

He swallowed involuntarily, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly, the sound audible in the silent room.

An Yi narrowed his eyes slightly, his long lashes partially veiling his gaze, calmly watching Yu Ziyun's face so close, and the fingers that had frozen after catching the droplet.

Yu Ziyun felt his heart jolt under An Yi's utterly calm gaze.

The impulse to tear through this eternally unruffled surface, to leave his mark upon this serene facade, seized his rationality in that instant.

He raised his eyes, staring straight back into An Yi's—those usually cool, sharp eyes now dark with a deep, almost greedy hunger.

Then, under An Yi's gaze, he did something even bolder, more transgressive, almost intimate.

He raised the hand that had just caught the droplet, parted his lips, and gently brought the tips of his index and middle fingers—still faintly damp with the water—into his warm mouth.

The movement was natural, yet was unmistakably suggestive.

Then, his tongue moved slightly, and he sucked, licking away that tiny trace of cold moisture and swallowing it down.

The whole thing was quick, over in a second or two.

Something subtle flickered in An Yi's eyes.

His gaze swept over Yu Ziyun's retracted fingers, then returned to those eyes that blazed with suppressed heat, locked on him.