CH 84

Ji Yao sometimes felt that Jiang Heng could indeed be addictive.

He was like a poisonous, addictive plant, making people fully aware of the danger yet willingly falling into the trap.

Fortunately, this guesthouse was extremely secluded, and each courtyard was relatively independent. Otherwise, Ji Yao felt that he might never show his face here again.

He didn’t even remember how last night ended. He vaguely remembered Jiang Heng pulling him out of the hot spring and placing him on the bed. Then, Jiang Heng bent down and gave him a gentle goodnight kiss.

Ji Yao, in a drowsy state, sensed that Jiang Heng was nearby, so he effortlessly slipped into slumber.

He slept deeply, and when he finally opened his eyes again, he realized he had slept through most of the day. The sunlight outside had already slanted to the west, casting the whole world in a radiant and hazy warmth.

The spot beside him was empty, and Ji Yao squinted and reached out, but he didn’t touch the familiar and soft warmth.

It took him a few seconds to fully wake up from his half-dreaming state. He slowly blinked his eyes and then realized his eyes were dry and painful. His throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and his whole body ached as if it were carrying a heavy load.

Ji Yao held his breath, crawled out of bed with great difficulty, and looked around. He then noticed that Jiang Heng hadn’t gone far but was sitting just outside the wide-open living room door.

In the courtyard of the eastern garden, there was a reasonably-sized outdoor hot spring. The slightly elevated water temperature vaporized the cold air to a perfect level, making it comfortable even with the windows open in early spring. Ji Yao took a deep breath of the slightly cool steam, feeling like he was slowly coming back to life.

Jiang Heng had changed out of the bright red kimono he wore the previous night and was now only in a loose, pure white yukata. He had his back to Ji Yao, his eyes lowered, and he was fiddling with something in his hands.

The weather that day was unusually good. It had snowed just the previous day, but today, everything outside looked as if it had been wiped clean like a car window after rain. Everything appeared clear and beautiful, even the concept of “winter,” which typically carried a cold connotation, was now filled with vibrant, warm colors.

Jiang Heng seemed completely absorbed in what he was doing, to the extent that he didn’t notice Ji Yao had woken up. 

Ji Yao admired his back for a while and couldn’t help but become curious about what Jiang Heng was working on. So, he crawled out of bed, picked up the neatly folded thick yukata next to him, and walked over to him, barefoot.

As he got closer, Ji Yao suddenly realized that what Jiang Heng was handling was a small white paper crane about the size of half a palm.

On his knee lay a well-folded “reference,” and Jiang Heng, wearing glasses, was folding it very seriously.

Ji Yao felt his heart calming down as he watched Jiang Heng’s movements. He suddenly felt very soft, so he tilted his head, looked at him for a while, and couldn’t resist resting a hand on Jiang Heng’s shoulder. He bent down without warning and kissed him.

Jiang Heng was momentarily stunned, but then he curved his lips and gently used his tongue to part Ji Yao’s lips, exchanging a long and delicate kiss with him.

After the kiss, Jiang Heng finally came back to his senses. He habitually placed everything within easy reach and extended his arms to hold Ji Yao’s waist. He seemed a bit surprised that he hadn’t heard Ji Yao walk over.

“When did you wake up?” Jiang Heng asked.

“Just now, not long ago,” Ji Yao replied. “Why did you come out here?”

“In the afternoon, I called someone to clean the hot spring,” Jiang Heng said. “I saw you sleeping soundly, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Ji Yao’s legs were still a bit weak, and he stumbled a bit under Jiang Heng’s touch, falling into his embrace.

Ji Yao felt somewhat embarrassed in this position and instinctively pushed Jiang Heng away, trying to get up on his own. However, he struggled for a moment and ultimately couldn’t succeed.

“Is your waist still sore?” Jiang Heng asked.

“A little,” Ji Yao admitted. Though he tried to act like it was no big deal, it was clear that he was feeling it. But as he looked at Jiang Heng’s innocent yet indulgent smile, he couldn’t help but feel unwilling. He gritted his teeth and said, “It’s… it’s nothing.”

Jiang Heng pursed his lips and smiled, nodded in agreement, and then slipped his hand into Ji Yao’s yukata, silently massaging his butt and waist area, which had been overworked the previous night.

His touch was just right, gentle, and Ji Yao didn’t resist. His gaze drifted for a moment and fell on the paper crane beside Jiang Heng.

“Why are you folding this?” Ji Yao asked.

“This?” Jiang Heng followed his gaze to the paper crane next to him. Then, he picked up the neatly folded one and placed it in Ji Yao’s hand.

“It’s a gift from the guesthouse owner,” Jiang Heng said.

Compared to Jiang Heng, who was an amateur, the “reference” in Ji Yao’s hand looked beautiful and elegant, with smooth lines and clean creases. It was clearly the work of an expert.

This paper crane was slightly smaller than the one Jiang Heng was folding, but it was exquisite in its own right. Ji Yao held it in his palm and felt like it could take flight with the wind at any moment.

“Why give this to me?” Ji Yao asked, feeling puzzled. “Do you have a crush on me?”

In Japan, the thousand paper cranes hold deep significance. They could be used to pray for health or to make wishes come true. Ji Yao had some knowledge of this, but not much.

“What do you mean, a crush? Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Heng couldn’t help but laugh. “I am no longer young and neither are you.”

Jiang Heng then held Ji Yao’s hand and gently guided him to keep the paper crane.

“The landlady gives a paper crane to every couple,” Jiang Heng explained. “This one’s for you and me.”

“Why didn’t she do that six years ago?” Ji Yao wondered.

“She only started doing it two years ago,” Jiang Heng replied, gazing at the paper crane in Ji Yao’s hand. He spoke softly, “She said it was her husband’s idea.”

“The landlady is from Kyoto. When she was young, she went on a graduation trip to Hokkaido and met her husband here. This inn was actually her husband’s property back then. After they fell in love, they turned it into a hot spring inn together.”

Young love is pure and passionate, and it only takes a second to know it’s for a lifetime. The young man successfully captured the heart of his beloved with a paper crane, securing a lifetime of warmth and love.

“She said that every year on their wedding anniversary, her husband would give her a paper crane. In Japan, paper cranes symbolize blessings and can bring happiness to the ones you love,” Jiang Heng continued. “Their relationship was always strong, but two years ago, her husband passed away.”

Ji Yao sighed softly.

“The landlady said that during his final days, she was very sad and even thought about giving up this inn, which symbolized their love. But her husband told her that he hoped she would keep it open and preserve their memories for a long time,” Jiang Heng explained. “The landlady agreed, so since then, every time she hosts a couple, she gives each of them a paper crane, hoping they will have a happy life together.”

This answer was both tender and heavy, and Ji Yao felt that the paper crane in his hand was as heavy as a thousand pounds. He couldn’t help but carefully place it on the floor next to Jiang Heng’s half-finished crane.

“Why did you fold another one then?” Ji Yao asked in confusion.

Jiang Heng bent his eyes and whispered, “Because your blessings have to come from me.”

Ji Yao couldn’t help but laugh and playfully poked Jiang Heng, calling him childish.

As he said that, Ji Yao seemed to remember something. He squinted slightly, pushed the two paper cranes aside, grabbed Jiang Heng’s collar, and shook it. He asked, “Stop saying nice things to me. If you have the guts, admit that you lost to me last night.”

Ji Yao’s effort was not too strong, more like a playful gesture than a threat. Jiang Heng allowed him to pull him close and smiled good-naturedly, saying firmly, “No, I won fairly, only fairness can satisfy everyone.”

“I don’t believe it. Why should you win twice in a row?” Ji Yao said as he got up from Jiang Heng and, with a determined look, walked into the room, leaning against the wall. He muttered in frustration, “I should have won this time for sure—there must be something wrong with your coin.”

He had said this several times last night, and Jiang Heng was curious why Ji Yao was so confident about his own luck. He couldn’t help but stand up and follow Ji Yao into the room, asking repeatedly for the reason.

Ji Yao didn’t want to answer him, but Jiang Heng seemed determined to find out the truth. So, he simply pinned Ji Yao down on the bed, teasingly asking, “A Yao, are you crying wolf? Tell me, what did you do?”

Ji Yao couldn’t help but smile and struggled to push Jiang Heng off him, but his efforts were in vain.

“Get off,” Ji Yao said.

“No,” Jiang Heng asked with a smile, “not until you confess?”

“Confess what?” Ji Yao snorted twice, feeling extremely embarrassed on one hand and unable to resist defending himself on the other. After hesitating for two seconds, he told Jiang Heng about the accomplishments of the mystical blogger.

But when Jiang Heng heard it, he burst into laughter even more. He lowered his head and kissed Ji Yao, loosened his grip on him, and rolled onto the bed, unable to stop laughing.

Ji Yao sighed and, as if trying to regain some dignity, patted Jiang Heng on the shoulder, saying, “What are you laughing at? At least I almost succeeded!”

“But A Yao, I resolved your ‘Mercury retrograde,’ I am your lucky charm.’ How could it be the blogger’s doing?” Jiang Heng confidently stated, “Clearly, it was me.”