Xi Yu took off his thick cloak and stood barefoot on the stone ledge by the pool, lowering his head to undo his belt.
His fingertips had just touched the fastening at his waist when he paused, turned his head, and crooked his finger at Que Zhi, who was crouched by the pool’s edge with his back to him, testing the water temperature.
“Come here a moment.”
Que Zhi stood up and turned around.
Xi Yu stood before him and placed one end of the belt into his hand: “This belt came with the new robe. The fastening is different from the old one—I’ve been trying to undo it for ages and can’t get it open. You do it.”
Xi Yu poked a finger at his chest, his breath drawing close.
Que Zhi looked down at the belt.
It was the one Xi Yu had casually fastened when he’d taken out the newly sewn plain snow-white underrobe from the cabinet—the stitching fine and neat,
fitting snugly against the new underrobe, softening his entire silhouette under the lamplight.
Que Zhi found the buckle’s position, his knuckles pressing lightly against Xi Yu’s waist through the fabric. With a gentle push and pull, he released the clasp.
“It’s not that the fastening is different—the buckle’s position is off by half an inch. I had the tailor adjust it a few days ago, letting out a bit of room according to your measurements. That’s why you couldn’t get it open.”
He folded the belt neatly and set it on the edge of the stone ledge, then hung his own thick cloak on a low branch nearby, turned back, and extended his hand to help Xi Yu down.
The rocks by the pool had been smoothed to a mirror-like finish by years of hot spring water. Xi Yu took his hand and slowly stepped into the pool.
The hot spring came up just past his waist. The water was slightly warmer than body temperature, the geothermal heat seeping from deep within the snowy mountains warming the entire pool to perfection.
White mist rolled slowly across the surface. Xi Yu stood still for a moment, letting himself adjust to the temperature, then let out a long, deep breath.
He cupped his hands together, scooped up a handful of spring water, and buried his face in it. When he lifted his head again, droplets streamed down his chin, along his neck, past his collarbones, and rolled into the mist-shrouded water.
Then he splashed Que Zhi square in the face.
Not a teasing flick—a full splash. Both palms together, scooping up water and hurling it straight at his face. The droplets shattered into a spray of fine golden beads under the bronze lamplight.
Having succeeded, Xi Yu didn’t run. He stood there, tilting his face up to look at him, his brows carrying that sly, matter-of-fact smile Que Zhi knew all too well—the same curve he wore every time he coaxed Que Zhi into kissing him.
Que Zhi raised a hand to wipe the water from his face and opened his eyes.
He didn’t say a word. He simply took one step forward.
The ripples from his movement pushed against the pool wall, sending back a soft, slow echo—like the first wave of a rising tide washing over the edge of a reef at night.
Que Zhi pressed him between the pool wall and his own chest, and bent down to kiss him.
“Mm…” Xi Yu went soft in an instant.
This was a kiss completely different from the usual.
Not the customary light touch when waking him in the morning, not the natural brush at the corner of his mouth during an evening stroll, not the soft, smiling negotiation when he asked for one more out of playfulness.
This kiss was heavy, direct, carrying a force that had been suppressed and endured for a long time.
The fire Que Zhi had felt that morning when Xi Yu teased him hadn’t faded—it had only grown fiercer in this setting.
His right hand gripped the back of Xi Yu’s neck, his thumb pressing against that small patch of skin behind his ear, warmed by the hot spring.
His left hand slid from Xi Yu’s waist to pull him close, locking him securely in his embrace, his palm flat against the hollow of his back.
Through the soaked underrobe, he could feel Xi Yu’s naturally cool skin being warmed by both the spring water and his own palm—like a thin layer of frost slowly melting beneath his hand, revealing the clean, warm texture beneath.
Xi Yu’s back pressed against the smooth rock, worn by years of hot spring water—not rough, just supporting him at this tilted angle.
He raised his arms to loop around Que Zhi’s neck, his fingers threading through his still-dripping hair, closing the last gap between them.
He responded to the kiss—not passively receiving, but actively welcoming, learning to kiss back the way Que Zhi had just pressed against his lips.
His tongue, clumsy but unyielding, parted Que Zhi’s lips and tangled with his.
The steam and heat from the hot spring left both of them slightly dizzy, and gradually, they found it still wasn’t enough.
Que Zhi’s hand slipped from his waist beneath the underrobe, fingertips brushing the curve of his waistline against his own wrist. Slowly, he traced upward—when the calloused pad of his thumb passed between his ribs, Xi Yu drew in a sharp breath.
Not from pain, but from a strange, unfamiliar thrill he’d never felt before.
Que Zhi lifted him up—not hastily, but steadily, arms tightening around his waist as he carried him to the edge of the rock shelf in the shallows.
Xi Yu sat back against the rock ledge, his legs still immersed in the steaming spring water, his knees just breaking the surface.
Que Zhi leaned down and kissed him again, one hand braced on the stone beside him,
the other curling its fingers as they traced, with excruciating slowness and lightness, across his collarbone, past his shoulder hollow, and stopped at the edge of his waist—like a silent request.
He didn’t press further, only called out: “Ah Yu.”
Xi Yu’s lashes were wet—whether from steam or sweat, it was impossible to tell. His cheeks flushed a deep pink between the heat of the spring and the stirring of desire, the thin skin beneath catching the bronze lamplight.
Xi Yu didn’t pull away. Instead, he took the hand that had paused at his waist and slowly guided it to his heart.
“I want it.”
His voice was very soft, slightly breathless.
The last time they’d been together was their wedding night. After that first time, Que Zhi had been mindful of Xi Yu’s body, so it had been a long while since they’d done it—long enough that Xi Yu had begun to miss it.
Though Que Zhi would coax him endlessly and whisper all sorts of shameless things, whether he was tending to Xi Yu or in the midst of it, he was always considerate.
Xi Yu himself had been completely absorbed, lost in the pleasure—the tears that fell were more from being overwhelmed by sensation than anything else.
The thought made Xi Yu’s face grow even redder.
White mist rolled slowly around them. Water droplets condensed on the rock walls, sliding down and splashing into the pool’s surface.
Que Zhi’s gaze never left his face—
from his long hair damp with mist, to his flushed cheeks, to the expanse of fair skin below his collarbones, to the steady, rapid pulse beneath his skin beside his heart.
“What are you thinking about? Hm?” His warm breath scattered across Xi Yu’s neck, his lips catching Xi Yu’s earlobe, licking over it just as he had that day.
There was no answer—only breathing that grew heavier and heavier.
Que Zhi’s hand continued moving downward, past his waist, toward the edge of the inner robe’s hem submerged in the hot spring, slowly peeling away the only garment Xi Yu had left.
The bronze lamp’s flame flickered in the white mist, casting a warm golden halo over their intertwined silhouettes.
In the distance, the birch forest rustled—a night breeze had risen without warning. In the pool, the dark rock walls gathered the sulfur-scented steam and fragmented murmurs deep within the hollow’s core,
layer upon layer of white mist spilling over the rock edges, as if the entire mountain had tucked them into the warmest fissure at the very heart of the earth.
Leave a Reply