After Dressing Up As a Little Fulang

In the past few days, An Yun had poured much of his physical and mental energy into preparing to open a store. He almost fell asleep the moment he got into bed.

As he slept, An Yun suddenly felt a bit short of breath. When he opened his eyes, he found Zang Ya kissing him.

Still groggy, An Yun took a moment to process what was happening. When he realized it, he reached out and pushed Zang Ya. Once Zang Ya let go, An Yun asked softly, “What are you doing?”

Hearing the slight nasal tone in An Yun’s voice, Zang Ya couldn’t help but feel a bit softened.

After Song Lin and the others had left, Zang Ya had dinner with An Yun and then went to deal with the wood. When he returned, he found An Yun asleep in bed, his red lips looking particularly inviting.

Zang Ya, used to acting on impulse, leaned in and kissed An Yun, not caring that he was still sleeping.

Hearing An Yun’s slightly accusatory, coquettish tone, Zang Ya wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again.

An Yun, still drowsy but accustomed to Zang Ya’s advances, sighed inwardly. Without opening his eyes, he wrapped his arms around Zang Ya’s neck and returned the kiss.

As the kiss deepened, An Yun suddenly felt a chill on his body. Realizing what was happening, his eyes flew open, and he became fully awake.

“Wait, I’ll help you with my hands,” An Yun said hurriedly.

Zang Ya stopped, stared at him, then kissed the corners of his eyes gently and said softly, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you. It’s just that today… let’s play differently. I read about this in a book and wanted to try it.”

After all, An Yun’s body had suffered a serious toll, and he hadn’t regained his full strength. The doctor had also said it wasn’t the right time yet.

Zang Ya didn’t want his delicate little pet to be played to death by him. That would be counterproductive. Still, he couldn’t suppress his desires entirely—there were always alternatives.

Over the past few days, Zang Ya had received a shipment of books, which he occasionally skimmed through while overseeing work. Among them, he found intriguing illustrations and ideas he couldn’t resist wanting to try.

When An Yun saw the glint of enthusiasm in Zang Ya’s eyes, he couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of foreboding.

.

The next morning, An Yun woke up later than planned. His throat felt sore, and he couldn’t help but cough lightly.

Xiao Cui, noticing his discomfort, asked thoughtfully, “Fulang, is your throat feeling uncomfortable? It must be the autumn dryness. I’ll ask the kitchen to prepare some pear soup for you—it might help.”

Hearing her words, An Yun, who was already flustered, turned beet red and stammered, “No, no need. Just some hot water will do.”

Xiao Cui found his response a bit suspicious but chose not to press further. She nodded and went to fetch hot water instead.

An Yun drank the water while silently cursing Zang Ya in his mind. Once he was composed, he took Xiao Cui with him to the workshop at the foot of the mountain.

.

In the following days, An Yun threw himself into work at the workshop. He managed everything from raw materials to processing. For the crucial step of colour mixing, he trusted Xiao Cui to handle it.

Finally, after much effort, An Yun’s products—lip balm, foundation, and eyebrow pencils—were complete. They were promptly delivered to the city’s store, ready for the grand opening.

As the night before the opening approached, An Yun found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, his mind racing with anticipation.

When Zang Ya returned late that evening, freshly washed and relaxed, he noticed An Yun still awake. Surprised, he raised an eyebrow and teased, “What’s this? Can’t sleep?”

In the past, An Yun would have already been sound asleep, curled up with the quilt by the time Zang Ya returned. If Zang Ya was in the mood, he might wake An Yun, but otherwise, he’d let him sleep peacefully.

This unusual sight piqued Zang Ya’s curiosity.

An Yun glanced at him and hesitated before admitting, “My shop opens tomorrow. I’m too excited to sleep.”

To Zang Ya, the store was nothing more than a playful indulgence for An Yun. He had invested money in it without any expectation of returns—he simply enjoyed seeing An Yun’s eyes sparkle with excitement.

Remembering Zang Ya’s financial support, An Yun suddenly felt a sense of obligation. Zang Ya hadn’t just given him the initial two hundred taels; he had continuously poured funds into the endeavour without question. Now, with the shop set to start earning, An Yun felt he needed to repay him somehow.

Gathering his thoughts, An Yun looked up at Zang Ya, his eyes bright with sincerity. “When my shop makes money, I’ll give you half of the profits as a return on your investment.”

Zang Ya chuckled softly at An Yun’s earnestness. He didn’t bother to explain that he hadn’t cared about the profits or that everything An Yun earned technically belonged to him already.

Instead, he reached out and gently teased the corner of An Yun’s lips with his thumb. “There’s no need for that. I’d be happier if you repaid me in other ways. By the way, have you had a chance to look at that picture book I gave you?”

The mention of the book made An Yun’s cheeks flush a deep crimson. He knew exactly what Zang Ya was referring to, and just the thought of it made his heart race. His beautiful eyes grew moist with embarrassment, but his lips, soft and pink, didn’t utter a word of rejection.

Instead, he nodded shyly and whispered, “Yeah.”

Zang Ya’s gaze softened as he reached out to stroke An Yun’s silky hair, the affection in his touch unmistakable. Looking at An Yun’s obedient demeanour, Zang Ya felt a surge of tenderness. How could he not fall for him even more?