PMWAIAAPM Chapter 14

Chapter 14

He seemed to not have heard clearly and wanted to confirm it again.

“Nothing.”

Xing Yang’s eyelashes fluttered like butterflies under the dim light, and even his sighs were gentle.

He was very quiet; although they were of the same age, Xing Yang always had a steadiness of an elder. As long as he sat there, Tan Zhiyu felt that his unreasonable tantrums and capriciousness would be infinitely tolerated by him.

And it was true.

“The stereotype of a domineering president might change a bit in your eyes if you’re willing to understand,” Xing Yang said.

Tan Zhiyu raised an eyebrow, “I’m not willing.”

Xing Yang smiled, “Alright.”

“After all, we are already married. Whether you’re a domineering president or not doesn’t matter much.”

Xing Yang’s brow relaxed, “Yes.”

“Xing Yang, your ears are red.” Tan Zhiyu was sure he didn’t mishear, and a sense of pride surged in his heart. He leaned in closer, almost pressing his face against Xing Yang’s nose, a faint fragrance wafting between them.

Although Xing Yang wasn’t particularly handsome, his eyes were beautiful, pure like the icy ocean frozen in a snowstorm.

Holding clear water within.

The cake on the table was quite simple; Xing Yang said it was his first time making a cake. He never took a baking class and only knew that Tan Zhiyu liked sweet foods.

Xing Yang said he couldn’t sing, that even the birthday song would be off-key, so he ended up playing it from his phone.

The originally empty house was filled with a hint of festivity, echoing the birthday song like a deep valley. The sweet cake became a warm heart, blooming with flavor to the rhythm of the music. Sitting next to him, Xing Yang quietly watched Tan Zhiyu, who was delightedly closing his eyes, as if he could only gaze at him openly at this moment, no longer peeking like he used to.

Besides his parents and agent, almost nobody knew about Tan Zhiyu’s birthday.

The date filled in Baidu Encyclopedia was concocted by a fortune teller.

Tan Zhiyu remembered from the age of five or six, during every wish-making moment, he would look forward to his parents taking him to the amusement park the next year.

Year after year, until he entered elementary school and gradually understood his parents’ separation and lack of love, he no longer expected them to accompany him.

He began to wish for toys with his father, racing cars, and with his mother, wished he could support his hobby of racing, and so on.

His parents would be happy to fulfill his wishes, as if by satisfying their precious son’s desires, they had completed the mission of being qualified parents.

But those gifts were not what Tan Zhiyu wanted.

Those were gifts he knew his parents wanted him to want.

A sensible child doesn’t get candy; he realized this too late, and only Xing Yang would be tolerant of him.

So he made a wish. He wanted to know how Xing Yang knew his affection for sweets.

Was it because he liked him, so he observed carefully?

It didn’t seem so unacceptable after all.

At least, Xing Yang’s cooking was delicious.

When he opened his eyes again, Xing Yang was quietly watching him, as if waiting to fulfill his birthday wish within his capability.

In the past, when his father celebrated his birthday, he would handle work next to him, with the voices of business calls mixed into the birthday song’s blessings. The same went for his mother’s birthdays; they were all very busy.

Xing Yang was also busy.

He was busy stepping away from work to cook for him, to make cake, and busy quietly sitting here watching him make wishes.

Xing Yang treated himself well.

As his partner, he was quite good.

After blowing out the candles, Xing Yang cut the cake for him: “I hope Mr. Tan’s wishes all come true.”

“You didn’t even ask me what I wished for. Can something like that be fulfilled?” he chuckled softly, languidly sitting in his chair waiting for the cake.

Xing Yang skillfully placed the only strawberry on the cake into his plate, meeting his gaze slowly, “I’ll do what I can.”

“Xing Yang, how do you do business? With partners, shouldn’t you be flattering, like saying you’ll pick the stars from the sky for me to make me happy, and then do as you please?” He pulled open his collar, revealing his collarbone and the faint outline of a great figure.

Xing Yang chuckled at his wild thoughts, his fox-like eyes narrowing, “Good partners should be honest.”

“Only by doing what I can to seek a longer-term cooperation.” His voice was low, resembling an elder coaxing a child about the ways of the world.

Long-term cooperation…

Tan Zhiyu understood; Xing Yang wanted to turn their farce into reality, wanting to be with him forever.

He had to think about it.

Tan Zhiyu suddenly thought that he should have wished for Xing Yang to celebrate his birthday with him next year.

At least his cooking was good.

Tan Zhiyu didn’t handle alcohol well; two glasses of red wine would get him drunk.

He never expected that the person accompanying him this year would actually be a contractual partner.

Clearly, there were no common topics between them.

He even found Xing Yang rather boring.

Even when they marked each other in bed, Xing Yang would either kneel or lie down properly, and wouldn’t try anything else with him. He was a man stuck in his ways.

If it weren’t for the omega gender, he would definitely be a good husband for a family, with a gentle and virtuous wife.

Thinking of this, Tan Zhiyu suddenly felt something was off.

Wasn’t he more cost-effective than a gentle and virtuous wife?

Xing Yang didn’t expect his alcohol tolerance to be so poor, and while cleaning up the dishes, he also warmed a cup of milk for him.

“Here, happy birthday, sleep early.”

After saying this, Xing Yang turned to leave, but in an instant, a warm wrist clung to his waist: “You can’t go.”

Falling into the soft, cloud-like mattress, a deep indentation was left.

Xing Yang was hugged in his arms; to be precise, he was inexplicably adorned with a human-like accessory, surrounded by the scent of roses.

The man’s pupils slightly constricted inadvertently, a flash of surprise passing through his gaze, but he quickly caught him, “You’re drunk.”

“Am I?” Tan Zhiyu lifted his eyes, his lazy and slightly tired gaze mixed with drunkenness, blushing as he leaned in, burying himself into Xing Yang’s neck, murmuring, “I’m not.”

Xing Yang helplessly spread his hands, “Your rose scent is already overflowing, Mr. Tan.”