Can Ci Pin/Imperfections(残次品)BL by Priest

Chapter 88

Bixing looked disorientedly at Jingheng, dreamily saying: "I just asked you to kiss me, and you just did it... I, I must be dreaming."

Jingheng drew back a little, gently touching Bixing's head. He finally felt that hair as he had wished. It turned out that the hair was naturally curly, not as soft as it looked; it was also a little cool, only the root of it was stained with a bit of body warmth. Jingheng Lin was a person who hated physical contact with others, so he didn't know how to control the strength of 'touching'. He was too careful, his fingertips were so light that they kissed Bixing's scalp like a breeze. Bixing shivered; the peripheral nerves hidden just underneath his dermis seemed to be too sensitive and sprouted out of the ground all at once. His body which just woke up lacked control, and immediately some uncivilized reaction emerged.

Bixing drew back his leg hurriedly in the dark. Yet his action was so fast that it almost produced the effect of a "leg-sweep" in ancient Kung Fu. In such a narrow space, it tripped Jingheng just right. Jingheng stretched out his hand to support himself, and pressed on Bixing's thigh exactly. Bixing gasped obviously, bouncing up like a shrimp. He bent over to pick up the empty gift box in a great bustle, huddled up, and did not dare to breathe for quite a while.

Jingheng: "......"

Exposed under the glimmer of the crystal ball, Bixing blushed from his neck to his ears.

Although Commodore Lin -- who stayed with those like Tulane all the years around -- always pretended to be a decent man, he probably had heard more dirty jokes than the nutrition creams that Principal Lu had eaten. He couldn't be too innocent no matter how 'unstained' -- realizing immediately, he retracted his hand embarrassedly, and said dryly: "The restroom is over there."

Bixing freaked out: "Don't say that."

Across a large while ribboned box, they looked at each other, at loss at what to do.

Jingheng Lin was never a person who was good at chatting or adjusting the atmosphere. Basically, he wouldn't know how to speak normally if he was not allowed to speak rudely. At this time, he looked around the room for a moment and racked his brain, trying to start a conversation from scratch: "Well... where does the crystal fridge on the ball come from?"

"I made it myself... pfft..." Bixing found Mr. Lin's nervous slip of tongue right before he finished his word. He was like a bad comedian, laughing out loud himself before revealing his joke: "I... ha-ha-ha... I made the 'crystal fridge' myself!"

Jingheng: "......"

A moment later, he finally couldn't help laughing quietly. He kicked Bixing's leg: "Shameless. What are you laughing at?"

Bixing laughed as he blushed, being shy as being cheeky. He put his elbows on the box on his knees, and twined his hands against his forehead to block his face. He explained as desperately: "It's because I just woke up. Morning wo...whatever, it's a normal physiological phenomenon."

"Good morning Mr. Lu," Jingheng's short embarrassment has passed, thus his tongue was brisk again, expertly saying in sarcasm: "Got up before getting dark, you are getting more and more hardworking. What an exemplary teacher."

Bixing peeked at him through the gap between his arms and the box covertly. His eyes were a bit stealthy, seemed to be eager to take liberties for the first time in his life, curious and naughty.

Jingheng found glass and wine from the refrigerator. Bixing said hurriedly: "I'll take some water. No alcohol."

Jingheng looked down at him. Bixing, who was still curled up on the floor, explained to cover up: "I'm just thirsty. Don't overthink."

Jingheng: "Did everything go well?"

"The President appointed me as the Special...Special..." Reaching here, Bixing found he was completely possessed by his affection -- his brain had evaporated from the tremendous surprise a moment ago, and apparently wasn't able to remember his title. He had to look for records in his personal terminal: "Well, Chairman of the Special Management Committee. Can act as a President during special periods."

Jingheng understood that the trip must not be going well as soon as he heard this -- the President was already forced to clutch at a straw.

"It's the Eighth Galaxy." Bixing took the water and shrugged, "Many people have to fight desperately just for survival. They never had anybody to rely on, so they won't believe it. If you reach out to them, they will see you as malicious, and draw their knives before 'your real intention is revealed'."

Jingheng took a sip of the wine. Leaning against the wall, he looked at him through the darkness.

"Let's take things easy -- I don't want to talk about the Eighth Galaxy with you tonight." Bixing looked up, "Commodore, you might not want to look at the place where I grew up anymore, but what about where you grew up?"