CH 85

In the end, Ji Yao didn’t dare to tell Jiang Heng the custom price of the talisman, which was a neat 250 Chinese yuan.

After all, compared to being scammed, he felt that losing face in front of Jiang Heng was even more unacceptable—besides, the amount itself didn’t sound very wise.

He unfollowed the blogger in front of Jiang Heng, closed their private messaging chat window, and decided that after returning to China, he would organize a department meeting with a “Promoting Scientific Knowledge” theme. He planned warn about the deceptive blogger to his nurses to educate them.

Jiang Heng, knowing that Ji had thin skin, didn’t press further and pretended not to notice Ji Yao’s newly changed starry screensaver.

However, Ji Yao couldn’t easily get over this embarrassment. He rolled around in bed for a good twenty minutes before finally shaking out the blanket and completely covering himself with it.

“Tell me,” Ji Yao mumbled, “Is there a way to forget something immediately?”

Jiang Heng chuckled, not even raising his head, and responded, “A physical method? You could pick up a stone, and hit me with it. There might be a chance to achieve that goal—just remember to be gentle, or you might become a widower.”

“What’s the point if only one of us forgets?” Ji Yao sighed, feeling hopeless. “How about you pick up a stone too, and we can both hit each other?”

Obviously, this cursed talisman had a significant impact on Ji Yao. Jiang Heng couldn’t help shaking his head and smiled wryly.

“It’s not that bad; even materialists can have their moments. The scam may be basic, but it works. You’re not the only one who fell for it,” Jiang Heng said. “Or how about this: I can forget everything right now. What do you think?”

“I think it’s the result of the Chinese feudal mindset,” Ji Yao replied, not feeling comforted at all. He pulled the blanket down a bit and stared at the ceiling, firmly stating, “It’s all because of the mentality of ‘since we’re here, let’s go along with it’ and ‘better to believe it than not’—I’m telling you, these two mindsets are the culprits behind most poor decisions.”

Ji Yao had been wrestling with this, and Jiang Heng had a vague idea that Ji Yao had probably paid more than just “trust” as the price. However, he didn’t want to embarrass Ji Yao as he didn’t want to say it explicitly.

Jiang Heng didn’t expose him and instead led him into a trap with his words.

“So, what should we do?” Jiang Heng asked. “How about showing me your chat history with this blogger, and I can help you report them for violating internet regulations?”

“…Let’s forget about that.” When Ji Yao heard the suggestion of exposing their chat history, he became more cautious. He sat up on the bed, ran his fingers through his hair, changing the subject. “What have you been doing all morning?”

Jiang Heng had been sitting in the living room with his laptop all morning before he took a break and started working on the paper cranes.

“Working,” Jiang Heng replied.

At this point in their trip, things were different from six years ago. Back then, they could both act carefree and ignore their phones when they went on vacation. But now, Jiang Heng had his law firm and colleagues to consider. Even though he had informed them in advance, he couldn’t simply ignore work if something urgent came up.

Ji Yao watched him thoughtfully for a moment, then got out of bed, picked up Jiang Heng’s glasses from the floor, and placed them on the bedside table. He then held Jiang Heng’s face, leaned in, and kissed him.

This kiss was tender, lingering, and even a bit innocent. Jiang Heng needed a kiss to recharge, so he wrapped his arms around Ji Yao’s waist, slightly opened his eyes, and gazed at him.

Ji Yao seemed to sense Jiang Heng’s gaze and reached out to cover his eyes with his hand.

Jiang Heng obediently followed his lead, closed his eyes, and allowed Ji Yao’s thumb to sweep lightly across his palm, leaving a faint tickling sensation.

The early spring wind in Hokkaido was brisk, but the East Courtyard was as warm as spring. The warm moisture in the air made it feel as if they were soaking in a cool spring, making them both relaxed and comfortable.

The kiss lasted for quite a while before Ji Yao slowly released Jiang Heng. His thumb brushed against the corner of Jiang Heng’s lips, wiping away an almost imperceptible moisture.

“Why was that so sudden?” Jiang Heng asked with a smile.

“I just felt like kissing you,” Ji Yao replied.

Since the day they arrived in Hokkaido, Ji Yao felt like they had entered a time warp. Everything here was so similar to six years ago, as if they had never left.

However, it was only now that Ji Yao sensed a subtle change in Jiang Heng. It was an elusive and blurry change, but not an unpleasant one. It gave Ji Yao a sense of peace, as if the dust had finally settled.

Six years ago, they were both young and inexperienced, their love cautious and guarded, each holding their own boundaries, afraid of falling off the tightrope of their budding relationship.

But now, six years later, the feeling of secretly competing with each other had disappeared. They had both matured, and when they kissed, they could finally do it with complete openness, without hiding anything.

There was no need for secrecy or testing; they could give as much love as they wanted, without worrying about revealing their true feelings.

After six years, they had finally met the better versions of themselves at the starting point of everything.

After a while, Ji Yao slowly released his hand from Jiang Heng. He made a move as if he was going to get up.

Jiang Heng quickly grabbed Ji Yao’s wrist and smiled, “Taking advantage of me and running away, is that possible?”

“So, what should we do?” Ji Yao raised an eyebrow playfully. “You should take back the advantage then.”

Jiang Heng thought that this suggestion was quite tempting and was about to put it into practice when the bell in their room suddenly rang.

Ji Yao recognized the bell sound. This inn had good privacy, and the innkeepers wouldn’t come over unless the guests needed something. They would use the bell at the courtyard entrance to alert them. Ji Yao looked at Jiang Heng and temporarily stopped their playful interaction, asking, “Did you request room service?”

“No,” Jiang Heng shook his head, looking a bit puzzled. He got up and tightened his yukata. “I’ll go and check.”

He walked towards the room door, leaving Ji Yao behind. Ji Yao stayed in the room, tidied up Jiang Heng’s laptop, and placed it back in its protective case.

After about ten minutes, Jiang Heng returned with two paper tickets in his hand.

“What’s this?” Ji Yao asked curiously. “Is there another folk performance going on?”

“No,” Jiang Heng replied. “These are tickets for the hot spring festival performance.”

The inn’s courtyards weren’t fully booked, so there were no folk performances this time. However, they had arrived at a convenient time because the annual hot spring festival in the small town was taking place. According to the innkeeper, the festival would occupy the entire town with markets and performance stages, including many classic Japanese folk activities and snacks. If they were interested, they could go and take a look.

“And the innkeeper mentioned that the nearby shrine will also be open to visitors,” Jiang Heng added. “But if you don’t want to go, it’s okay.”

Ji Yao wasn’t particularly interested in Japanese gods and spirits, and he hadn’t even visited the Hokkaido Shrine last time. Jiang Heng assumed that Ji Yao would have the same attitude this time. However, Ji Yao thought for a moment, reached out, and took the tickets from Jiang Heng’s hand.

“Let’s go and check it out,” Ji Yao said. “I’d like to go this time.”