2.9 || The Prodigal Young Master

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Zhou Yequan's scent could be detected from such a close distance that Yang Wenbao immediately forgot about his aching back. Feeling the person on his chest stiffen and Zhou Yequan's forehead touching his lower jaw, Yang Wenbao immediately removed Zhou Yequan from his hold.

"He hates touching other people. He's probably too disgusted at the moment from being suddenly hugged by another person. A man, no less."

Although from the way Zhou Yequan had not avoided his hand a few times before, Yang Wenbao hoped that he was not too hated.

However, Zhou Yequan did not say anything. Ignoring Yang Wenbao's fluster, his body slightly swayed, only standing rigidly when Yang Wenbao held onto his arms. Then he shook himself away and headed towards the bed.

Yang Wenbao looked at his hands that had suddenly felt empty. Zhou Yequan, in the meanwhile, had laid himself on the bed and pulled the quilt over him,

"It's late... . Brother Wenbao best also return and rest for the night."

Yang Wenbao stared at the figure on the bed and thought he had probably gotten lucky that the Seventh Prince had not ordered for someone to behead him. He bowed lightly and turned his body. Then he heard Zhou Yequan, "If Brother Wenbao does not hate spending time with me, please come again tomorrow night."

Relief washed over Yang Wenbao. "How can I possibly hate you? It's good that you don't hate me instead." He smiled, nodding his agreement, but soon realized the other person was unable to see it anyway. After promising to come back the next night, with a light heart, he finally exited the bedchamber.

After a few moments of silence, Zhou Yequan curled to his side, wrapping his hands over his own body, bringing his knees closer to his chest too. Even now, his chest still felt warm, his heart still thudding loudly against it.

When his hands touched Yang Wenbao, when his chest was plastered against the other's... .

Zhou Yequan muttered, ridicule and melancholy in his whisper-like voice, "It's not disgusting... . He's not disgusting... ."

Remembering that he had a bold moment of wanting to drink that cup of tea straight from Yang Wenbao's hands as soon as he smelled the tea, Zhou Yequan's forehead was wrinkled in self-mockery as he mumbled, "I... am disgusting."

*** *** ***

When Yang Wenbao returned to his room, it was only a couple of hours before dawn. Wu Li was no longer there and Yang Liyuan was already sleeping. Yang Wenbao spent most of the day with Yang Liyuan. The latter didn't seem to want to tell Yang Wenbao about his business with Wu Li, and Yang Wenbao did not want to intrude as well. Yang Liyuan only said one thing,

"He... Wu Li... is not a bad person."

Yang Wenbao only raised his eyebrow. "Just because Wu Li isn't a bad person, you let him have your body? Or do you actually like that guy as well?"

Yang Liyuan's appearance was somewhat similar to the portrayal of character Zhao Yun from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Even the weapon he was most adapt at was a spear. Yang Liyuan possessed a tall lean body and his muscles did not make him look bulky or overly masculine. Although he was a military marshal and no doubt had his share of bloody battles, his facial features were always elegant and somewhat gentle looking. Although the current Yang Wenbao possessed sharper facial features and aura, the brothers looked a few points similar to each other. Perhaps, it was the scholarly Marquis Yang's blood that had contributed to their refined looks.

Yet, when one looked at Yang Liyuan or Yang Wenbao, they wouldn't doubt their gender. Their skins were a few shades darker than other noble young masters. Although Yang Wenbao was initially of pale countenance, ever since he was transmigrated to this world, he had his share of toiling under the sun to maintain his health and figure.

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