Chapter 6 : One Step Away

“Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap. Are you patting a watermelon or something? Why don’t you just take a bite and see if it’s sweet?”

Qian Dailan pulled up the tiny triangle underwear that had been tugged down to the crook of her knees and said, “Ye Xijing, what’s wrong with you… huh? Why aren’t you talking?”

She couldn’t see clearly yet, only able to make out a tall man half-kneeling on the bed, maintaining a fixed posture.

Moonlight fell on the right side of Qian Dailan’s face. 

Her thick, slightly wavy hair, like the rippling waves of West Lake on a clear day, cascaded down in soft, lazy strands, partially covering her fair shoulders.

Like Botticelli’s painting of the Birth of Venus, she transformed this silent room into the Uffizi Gallery of Florence.

“Hm?” 

Qian Dailan was puzzled. 

She widened her eyes, propped herself up with her left hand, and—like a curious cat—lifted her right hand, attempting to touch the man’s face. 

“No way… Are you seriously mad just because I scratched your neck?”

The man didn’t respond. 

Instead, he stiffened and subtly moved back, avoiding her touch unnaturally.

“Xijing, Xijing, Jingjing BB,” Qian Dailan cooed, acting spoiled. 

“I didn’t mean to, okay? But you squeezed my chest so hard just now… We haven’t seen each other for so long, shouldn’t you be hugging me first?”

As she spoke, not waiting for his reaction, she lunged forward, climbing onto him like a cat scaling a tree. 

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she cupped his face in both hands. 

“You weren’t shy just now—why so bashful all of a sudden?”

Just then, the moon broke through the clouds, fully illuminating the man’s face.

Similar eyebrows and eyes, but a different aura. 

When Ye Xijing lowered his gaze, he often looked innocent. 

But this man—when he looked down, his expression was heavier. 

A faint scent of ebony wood, disheveled hair, thin lips, a high, well-defined nose—gentle and polite when smiling, but indifferent and arrogant when not.

Ye Xiyan.

Her boyfriend’s older brother.

His biological older brother.

Fifteen months had passed since their first meeting. 

Now, seeing him again—it felt like just yesterday.

This was not how Qian Dailan had imagined meeting her boyfriend’s family.

Her expectations: simple and elegant, polite and respectful, sincerely apologizing, toasting drinks, chatting amicably.

Reality: forced kisses, hugs, half-naked chaos, an intense situation, and possibly a knife fight looming.

Why was it him?!

Up until now, Qian Dailan still remembered him as that easygoing, humorous, and extremely, extremely, extremely—Their gazes locked. 

Ye Xiyan’s expression was complex, his brows furrowed tightly. 

Qian Dailan was dumbstruck, mortified—she wanted to die on the spot.

“—AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Ye Xiyan swiftly reached out to cover her mouth.

Qian Dailan was too stunned to speak. 

The tragic, instinctive scream that had started was abruptly cut off as his large, warm hand pressed over her lips.

The moment their skin touched, the heat from his hand and the force behind it jolted her back to reality. 

Her panic-frozen brain restarted. 

She immediately released her grip on Ye Xiyan, flailing all four limbs, desperately trying to escape—Like a stray cat being held by a stranger.

But Ye Xiyan was too strong.

Her punches and kicks? 

At most, a -0.01, maybe a -0.001 to his health bar.

“Don’t scream,” Ye Xiyan murmured. 

“…This is a misunderstanding, Dailan.”

Overwhelmed, Qian Dailan instinctively kicked him in the lower abdomen—completely missing the fact that in their struggle, his black bathrobe had loosened significantly.

And just like that, her foot—bare and without any barrier—pressed directly against his…

Tense from the situation, his body was still charged with heat, his temperature high—so high that it burned right through her sanity.

Meanwhile a completely exhausted Ye Xijing entered the apartment, punching in the passcode, unlocking the door, and stepping inside.

He had almost stayed at the hospital overnight, but recalling Ye Xiyan’s advice, he decided to come home and check on Qian Dailan…

…Huh?

Did he just hear a woman screaming?

The spacious and empty living room was eerily quiet. 

Ye Xijing changed into his slippers and stood still, unmoving, suspecting that he was hallucinating.

He held his breath and listened carefully.

Inside the bedroom, Qian Dailan was still being muffled by Ye Xiyan’s hand. 

She was sweating profusely, her palms damp as if in the humid southern spring. 

Ye Xiyan’s palm was also hot and clammy, but his voice was unexpectedly calm.

“This is my bedroom. You must have entered the wrong room,” Ye Xiyan said. 

“I drank tonight. Sorry. Don’t make a sound—I don’t want Xijing to find out you’re here.”

Hearing Ye Xijing’s name, Qian Dailan finally stopped trembling.

She had always been brave.

Even now, she wasn’t exactly afraid—after all, the most terrifying moment in her life had been the three hours her mother spent in the operating room, fighting for her life.

But still, her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

Her hair, her hands, her feet—everything was trembling.

A stark difference in strength.

“I’ll let go, don’t scream,” Ye Xiyan said, his expression dark. 

His voice was low and steady. 

“I’m sorry.”

Slowly, he released his grip.

Like a compressed spring, Qian Dailan launched herself away, scrambling to grab the blanket and wrap herself up.

Reality, however, was not an idol drama.

Ye Xiyan was pressing down on the edge of the blanket, making it impossible for her to pull it away—until he finally lifted his knee slightly, allowing her to quickly cocoon herself in the fabric.

“My apologies,” Ye Xiyan said as he pulled his robe tighter, retying the belt to conceal his exposed chest and abdomen, leaving only the skin near his collarbones visible. 

He still frowned. “I didn’t realize you weren’t wearing pajamas.”

“As if that would have stopped you from stripping me,” Qian Dailan shot back, her emotions running high. 

Her voice instinctively rose before she quickly suppressed it, gritting her teeth in accusation. 

“Your speed at taking off clothes is insane! Good thing I’m smart—like they say, even gods struggle with a rolling pig! If I hadn’t rolled away like crazy, just a second later and you would’ve—”

One wall away.

Ye Xijing heard muffled voices from the bedroom.

Still in his slippers, he stepped lightly on the thick carpet, moving slowly and silently.

He knew Qian Dailan’s personality well—always competitive, always picking the first option given to her.

If she had been given two guest rooms to choose from, she definitely would’ve picked the first one.

So why… was she still awake?

He walked carefully to the door of the guest room.

“Dailan,” Ye Xiyan gestured downward, signaling for her to lower her voice. 

His face was slightly uncomfortable at her words. 

“Calm down, okay? Just calm down first. This was my mistake. I crossed a line—”

“Of course, it’s your fault!” 

Qian Dailan cut him off. 

Wrapping the blanket tighter like armor, she furiously attacked him. 

“You—”

“I thought I was dreaming,” Ye Xiyan said. 

“I’m sorry.”

“A dream? Wow, aren’t you lucky?” Qian Dailan’s voice trembled, either from emotions or exhaustion. 

“To dream of a delicate, stunning beauty like me? Not only do you have great taste, but you’re also extremely lucky, Ye Xiyan.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

Everything that had just happened—like molten wax poured into a mold—had been soft, warm, and unconscious in the moment.

But now, as it cooled, it solidified into something irreversible.

Ye Xiyan had kissed her lips.

Ye Xiyan had touched her face.

Ye Xiyan had gripped her neck.

Ye Xiyan had bit her collarbone.

Ye Xiyan had pressed his Russian super-sized nutcracker against the inside of her thigh.

Everything burned hot—searing her with an unbearable mix of shame and fear.

“Yeah, I guess I am lucky,” Ye Xiyan said flatly, raising a hand in surrender. 

His voice remained calm. 

“I’ll turn around. You get dressed, then turn on the light—I’ll take you out of here. The guest room is right next door. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Right now, this situation… isn’t appropriate.”

“Oh, now you realize it’s inappropriate?” Qian Dailan accused. 

“But when you were dreaming about screwing your own brother’s girlfriend, did you feel inappropriate then?”

“…Dreams don’t always represent reality,” Ye Xiyan explained patiently. 

“They’re just a projection of subconscious thoughts. For example, jealousy—”

“What chicken belly?” Qian Dailan sniffled, trying to stop herself from crying. 

“Don’t talk about food. I’m not hungry at all right now.”

“Let me put it another way,” Ye Xiyan said. 

“Dailan, have you never had a dream like this? With anyone other than Xijing?”

Qian Dailan thought for a moment. 

“Actually, yes, I have.”

“Do you like him?”

“I do,” Qian Dailan replied.

Ye Xiyan took a deep, deep breath.

“…But not in that way,” Qian Dailan added. 

“We’re just friends. We argue all the time.”

“Exactly,” Ye Xiyan said steadily. 

“For a normal, fully developed adult, having dreams like this is natural. It doesn’t mean I actually want to do anything to you—you can rest assured.”

“Then have you dreamed about other people?”

“That’s not the point of this conversation,” Ye Xiyan slowly straightened his posture. 

In just a few moments, he had already regained his composure. 

“Right now, you should go back to your own room and rest.”

There was a long silence before Qian Dailan finally spoke.

“I don’t really get it, but I guess that kind of makes sense,” she said. 

“Then… I’m sorry, brother. I didn’t know this was your bedroom, I—”

“I already said, it was my mistake,” Ye Xiyan repeated. 

He got out of bed and turned around. 

“You can put on your clothes now.”

Qian Dailan immediately grabbed the clothes by the pillow, not even bothering to check if they were inside out, and hurriedly threw them on. 

As she jumped out of bed, her mind was racing—

I’m going to die, going to die, going to die—wait, bad omen! 

Spit, spit! 

I need good luck, I need to get rich, get rich, get rich—

This was just too awkward.

She desperately tried to think of something to say, but anything she came up with sounded awkward. 

What could she possibly say?

“Hey, look, I can get dressed really fast too! Even faster than you can undress me!”—No. 

That would be way too weird. 

Weirder than the eighteen oddities of Yunnan.

In the end, she tightly shut her embarrassed mouth and made a firm decision—she had to move out. 

Tomorrow. 

No, tonight. 

Immediately. 

She needed to rent a place far, far away from Ye Xiyan—the farther, the better.

She hoped this would be the last time they ever saw each other.

Otherwise, every time she saw his face in the future, she’d be forced to remember the absolute humiliation of accidentally climbing into her boyfriend’s brother’s bed.

Moving quickly and efficiently, she threw on her clothes and—snap—switched on the light.

Bright light flooded every corner of the room.

Dressed in a dark bathrobe, Ye Xiyan stood as the only shadow in the space.

He was silent, composed, steady. 

Tall, commanding—even in a bathrobe, he carried himself like he was wearing a trench coat.

He didn’t just look like someone who had control.

He was someone who completely dominated her.

Lifting her small suitcase with one hand, Qian Dailan caught sight of the veins bulging on his right hand. 

A thick, rough callus was visible on the side of his middle finger—it stood out against his otherwise elegant hands.

Great. 

Now she knew exactly what had rubbed her skin raw.

“Xijing probably isn’t home yet, or he’s already asleep,” Ye Xiyan said coolly. 

His tone was stern as he warned her, “Just in case—put your slippers on. Walking barefoot makes more noise.”

“Really?” 

Qian Dailan dropped her slippers, letting them land on the floor with a loud thud. 

“But in dramas, people always tiptoe around barefoot.”

Just beyond the door—

The sound of the slippers hitting the ground echoed through the silent night.

Standing just outside the guest room, Ye Xijing suddenly turned his head, staring intently at his brother’s door.

Inside the room—

One person standing, one bending over—Qian Dailan had hurriedly put on her dress, but in her rush, part of it had gotten caught at her waist, accidentally exposing a glimpse of smooth, pale skin.

Ye Xiyan averted his gaze, patiently waiting for her to finish putting on her slippers.

“Go back and rest,” he said, now completely calm. 

“I’ll find time to talk to you about tonight.”

“Let’s not,” Qian Dailan refused immediately. 

“Let’s pretend nothing happened. The moment we walk out that door, we both forget everything. I don’t want to remember it at all, and you shouldn’t bring it up either. Brother—thank you.”

Ye Xiyan didn’t respond.

Instead, he raised his hand and grasped the cold metal door handle.

At that exact moment—

There was a sharp knock on the door.

Outside, Ye Xijing’s voice called out.

“Brother, are you still awake?”