Chapter 465: Day 30 into the Farming Story

Chapter 465: Day Thirty in the Farming Novel

An Yi's gaze fell on Di Qingji's profile lit by the charcoal fire. The warm yellow light traced his rugged features, highlighting a slightly curled strand of damp hair at his temple, along with the faint, un-wiped traces of rain on his cheek.

An Yi reached out and brushed away the damp strand of hair at Di Qingji's temple, and casually wiped off the barely-there rain stains.

Di Qingji's eyes suddenly lit up. He quickly grabbed An Yi's wrist, leaning forward, ready to pull An Yi into his arms and tackle him onto the bed.

But An Yi was quick. With a deft twist of his wrist, he easily slipped out of the grip, while leaning back to put some space between them.

He furrowed his brows slightly, a look of undisguised disgust on his face, though his tone stayed pretty calm: "Go take a shower. You just got back from outside, and you're all damp from the rain."

Despite being "rejected," Di Qingji wasn't annoyed. He grinned wide, and instead of backing off, he leaned in and quickly planted a loud smack on An Yi's cheek, leaving a slightly wet feeling behind.

"Fine! I'm going! Be quick!" he said right away.

An Yi watched him disappear through the door, then raised a hand to wipe the spot on his cheek where he'd been kissed. He shook his head and chuckled.

Di Qingji was true to his word and washed up fast. From the side room came the sound of splashing water and the rustle of clothes being pulled on.

An Yi had just sat back down at the desk when he heard footsteps approaching. The next second, the door burst open and a figure rushed in.

An Yi looked up, and then everything blurred, his waist tightened, and he was yanked out of his chair, airborne!

Di Qingji had scooped him up with one arm, steady as anything.

"Di Qingji!" An Yi snapped, low and warning.

Di Qingji just chuckled, carrying him as he turned and headed for the bedroom. He tilted his head, nuzzling An Yi's shoulder, his hair brushing An Yi's neck, bringing a ticklish chill and scorching breath.

An Yi: "..." He smacked Di Qingji's taut shoulder, exasperated.

Di Qingji took the hit and laughed even harder. Instead of letting go, he held on tighter, striding into the bedroom and kicking the door shut with his heel.

Di Qingji set An Yi down on the edge of the bed with its plain sheets, then knelt on one knee before him.

This position made him look up at An Yi.

He lifted his head, gazing up at his beloved.

"An Yi..." Di Qingji called out, his voice much hoarser than before. He reached out with both hands to cup one of An Yi's hands hanging at his side, and pressed that cool hand against his burning cheek with reverence, letting out a low, satisfied sigh. Then that sigh turned into something greedier.

An Yi looked down at him.

Di Qingji, kneeling before him, was tall and imposing, his presence impossible to ignore even like this.

His skin was that wheat tone forged from years of sun and wind on the road, glowing with a healthy, powerful luster in the flickering candlelight—a stark contrast to the hand An Yi had pressed against his cheek.

An Yi's gaze lingered on his face. Then, after a beat, he asked in a near-calm voice, "Have you... gotten darker?"

Under the candlelight, the contrast in skin tones seemed even more pronounced.

Di Qingji, who had been drowning in the moment: "...???"

A wave of pure grievance and resentment welled up inside him.

"An Yi!" he cried out accusingly, rubbing his cheek against An Yi's palm, his tone full of obvious displeasure. "It's the candlelight! It's the candlelight! I did not get darker!"

Sure, he traveled far and wide, but to win An Yi's favor, he'd been taking good care of his looks. Lately, his skin had even gotten more... even-toned!

Seeing him like this, An Yi laughed out loud.

When he finished laughing, An Yi used his other hand to gently stroke Di Qingji's cheek.

His fingertips were cool, tracing Di Qingji's strong brow bone, his sharp, chiseled nose bridge, and the soft line of his lips...

The candle crackled, shadows flickering across his fingertips.

Then, as Di Qingji was about to drown in that tender touch and adoring gaze, An Yi leaned in.

He pressed a kiss to Di Qingji's lips, all on his own.

Di Qingji paused, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Then, he abruptly stood up, his tall figure casting an undeniable shadow over An Yi, who was still seated on the edge of the bed.

The next moment, the world spun.

An Yi was caught by his powerful arms around his waist and back, gently pressed down into the soft, fluffy bedding behind him.

The plain sheets dipped slightly, bearing his weight.

Di Qingji's scorching, burning kisses rained down densely, eagerly seizing An Yi's breath, plundering every trace of air between his lips and teeth.

His tongue barged in forcefully, intertwining, sucking, exploring—carrying the freshness of soap and his own searing heat.

An Yi reached out, wrapping his arms around Di Qingji's broad, solid back.

His fingertips sank into the taut muscles, clearly feeling the scorching body heat and surging power beneath the fabric.

Clothes, in silent tearing and shedding, fell one by one, crumpling onto the footrest by the bed, piled messily together.

The candlelight was bright, unsparingly illuminating the closely entwined figures on the bed, casting every inch of skin, every line, every rise and fall into clear relief.

Di Qingji's body was the lean, powerful physique forged by years of martial training and constant travel.

His muscles were clearly defined, yet not clumsily bulging—lines smooth and full of strength, from his broad shoulders, solid chest, to his lean waist and abdomen, every part harboring astonishing explosive power.

His skin was an even deep wheat tone, bathed in the warm yellow candlelight like fine bronze, radiating a healthy, sensual luster.

Sweat had already beaded up at some point, sliding slowly along the taut spinal groove and the flowing lines of his back muscles, finally disappearing into the shadows below his waistline.

And An Yi, shrouded beneath him, held captive in his embrace, had a body that was long and well-proportioned, yet not frail—possessing a clean, resilient beauty like jade and bamboo.

At this moment, that originally cool, pale skin was rapidly being tinged with a thin layer of blush, spreading from his slightly flushed cheeks, reddened ears, and slender neck, all the way down to his delicately protruding collarbone...

That flush bloomed across his skin with Di Qingji's kisses and caresses, leaving warm, moist traces and deeper shades of crimson.

Di Qingji, from An Yi's sweat-dampened brow, trembling eyelids, straight nose tip, and lips already kissed slightly red... traced his way slowly downward.