Exclusive Rights to An Online Voice Actor Chapter 47

Chapter 47

TLC: Lilies

Editing: Mas.h.i.+ro

Shen Yan looked at Qi Jing in a daze before slowly blinking his eyes.

“Drunk.” He repeated this word softly, as though it was an unfamiliar word he was hearing for the first time.

He brought his fingers near his forehead once more as if to scratch his head in confusion. Instead, he propped his head up but it felt so heavy like it was filled with lead and he couldn’t keep it straight. Because of that, Shen Yan could only lower his head and rack his brain arduously. After a long while, he finally figured out the meaning of this word and shook his head lightly, “No, not drunk.”

Seeing this, Qi Jing had already received a clear answer.

“Shen Yan,” He had taken care of his drunk colleagues before, so he was fairly experienced in that aspect. He knew that in such a situation, one shouldn’t refute the other party, only guiding them step by step, “That’s okay, we had already celebrated what needed to be celebrated, so we’re done for tonight. I’ll take you to rest, okay?”

He used the best of his ‘reading children a bedtime story’ voice and gently, softly coaxed Shen Yan. Drunk people can become very child-like at times, so one needs to be patient with them.

“Mhm.” Shen Yan replied in a low voice—it seemed that he preserved some clarity of mind. Qi Jing sized up his closely knit eyebrows—Shen Yan kept his eyes closed, as if he was enduring some kind of torment. Upon seeing this, Qi Jing felt distressed and quickly stood up, walking around the table to stroke Shen Yan gently on his back.

Feeling the other coming near, Shen Yan opened his eyes wide, his gaze unfocused. He moved his hand away from his throbbing temples and instinctively reached out to seek Qi Jing.

Qi Jing didn’t dodge.

Shen Yan’s fingers touched the fabric of Qi Jing’s s.h.i.+rt around his waist, pausing for a moment, before he eventually slowly spread his fingers, laying it flat on Qi Jing’s waist, feeling about as if he was making sure that the person before him was real. That silhouette, that feeling—that’s right, it was indeed Qi Jing. Shen Yan breathed out slowly, relieved.

He didn’t know why he would suddenly feel anxious like that. Even though it was something he could usually figure out easily, he couldn’t quite put it aside now. He had to carefully think it over, seek confirmation.

Qi Jing looked down and could not help but let out a laugh when he saw him making such a silly gesture with such a serious expression.

But he didn’t expect Shen Yan to suddenly draw his arms and hug his waist tightly, burying his head deep into Qi Jing’s abdomen, locking his arms behind him as if afraid he would disappear. That hug was firm beyond compare.

“Qi Jing.” His voice was m.u.f.fled as the words he spoke came from being buried in Qi Jing’s clothes, “Don’t go.” He spoke of the present, but also of the future.

He didn’t know what being drunk meant, but he felt as if his heart had been emptied out and what was kept inside had moved into his head, pounding vigorously against it, causing his ears to ring. His arms yearned to hold onto something to provide him with solace.

This feeling made him uncomfortable, but it was definitely short-lived. However, the possibility of a reality where Qi Jing leaves him would be a long-lasting one.

But at that very moment, he could—with the help of the torment caused by the alcohol—force himself to speak, to say some of the things his reason wouldn’t otherwise let him speak of when sober. At that moment, no matter whether it was his willfulness or his selfishness, he could express them all frankly.

“Don’t go…” The more he spoke, the hoa.r.s.er his voice became. Towards the end, the s.p.a.ce between his words disappeared as they merged into one, no longer distinguishable.

Hearing Shen Yan’s continuous pleas, Qi Jing couldn’t help but feel a stinging pain in his chest. He stood still, letting Shen Yan hold him, leaning against each other. He even held Shen Yan’s head in his hand, combing through his hair while comforting in a low voice, “I’m here. Don’t be afraid, I won’t go.”

Perhaps his comforting came of use, as Shen Yan’s breathing calmed down gradually and he didn’t hug him as tightly anymore. He entered a relatively calm state. Thus, Qi Jing softly asked to sound him out, “Let’s go back to the room to rest. I’ll help you up, okay?”

Shen Yan rubbed his head against Qi Jing’s s.h.i.+rt, unwilling to let go for a long time—only after quite a while did he respond with a single, m.u.f.fled “Mhm”. Then, Qi Jing tried to press his hands on Shen Yan’s shoulders to push him back carefully and distance himself a little. Shen Yan’s arms finally loosened their grip, slowly dropping from the middle of his waist, but he still insisted on grasping the hem of Qi Jing’s s.h.i.+rt firmly, not letting him go.

“Your forehead is burning, does your head hurt?” Of course, Qi Jing wouldn’t leave him—instead, he lifted his hand to push aside Shen Yan’s fringe to check his temperature by placing his hand against the latter’s forehead.

“Mhm.” Shen Yan’s gaze was somewhat unfocused, as if water got into his eyes and wouldn’t come out no matter how much he blinked.

“Can you stand up by yourself?”

“Mhm.” His responses were all uniform, full of confusion.

Qi Jing couldn’t tell if he really understood what he was saying or not; he could only reach under Shen Yan’s armpit and clasp his hands behind the other party’s back&#k2014;against his shoulder blades. He then gently helped Shen Yan up with an upward pulling motion, signalling for the latter to stand up following his movement. As expected, Shen Yan moved his knee, lowering his head dizzily&#k2014;he looked down, looking for his centre of gravity before propping himself against the table and slowly carrying his body upwards. When he was around half ways up, he stopped to rest for a moment. Qi Jing realised that he might be weak at his legs, so he leaned over to let Shen Yan rest some of his weight on him.

“Qi Jing,” It seemed like Shen Yan was a little more clear-headed at that moment as there was a distinct remorse in his eyes, “… I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing, let me take care of you once in a while.” Qi Jing only laughed it off.

Shen Yan didn’t laugh. After furrowing his brows for quite a while, he slowly steadied himself on his legs with Qi Jing’s patient support, but his head still felt terribly heavy. His whole person was like a hot-water bottle filled to the brim—incredibly hot; with every step forward he took, he would be hit with an invisible stream of water wanting to push him down on the floor.

After standing up the white light of the hanging lamp split into two images in his eyes, one unreal, one true, the light incredibly potent and their brightness so stabbing that he couldn’t open his eyes.

Shen Yan groaned, annoyed, lowering his head and temporarily putting it on Qi Jing’s shoulder, looking so much like a small, nocturnal animal. Qi Jing had never seen Shen Yan behave like that before and felt this hard to come by sense of novelty, to the point a thought like ‘that’s so adorable’ sprouted in his mind. When he recovered from his stupor, he was unexpectedly amused by his own thoughts.

“So you can’t drink, huh.” He cleared his throat, suppressing back those words he didn’t dare to say while changing the topic.

Hearing him say so, Shen Yan suddenly lifted his head, staring into his eyes from a close distance. That pair of deep black eyes blinked with difficulty, once, then again as he spoke, his tone weak, “I can’t really drink, but… I will learn.”

Saying that, he silently drew his brows together, like a child who knew he had made a mistake.

Qi Jing was thus stupefied—only now he realised that Shen Yan had misunderstood that he was turned off by his poor drinking capacity. The corners of his mouth twitched and he finally couldn’t help but laugh out loud with a “pfft”. It really was… he couldn’t call it anything else but adorable.

“If you can’t drink then don’t drink, I don’t mind that, what do you need to raise your drinking tolerance for?” Qi Jing smiled with his eyes. He put his arm across Shen Yan’s back, patting him there lightly, “Come, I’ll help you up.”

“Don’t, don’t help… You’re still injured.” Shen Yan shook his head repeatedly. He wanted to reach his hand out and support himself on the chair, but couldn’t find what he was looking for.

Qi Jing wanted to laugh, but no laughter escaped his mouth. He persuaded Shen Yan, speaking in a low voice by his ear, “Okay then, I won’t help you. But I will pull you, okay? Hm?”

Shen Yan looked at him in confusion, opening his lips but not speaking anything. Finally, he nodded his head.

Qi Jing laughed as he pulled his arm from under Shen Yan’s armpit. After making sure he could stand steadily, he held his hand, guiding him forward step by step. His gaze never moved away from Shen Yan, as he slowly led him, moving backwards, towards the entrance of the room. From the beginning to the end, Shen Yan adapted to Qi Jing’s pace, leaving all of the control solely in the other’s hand.

This guy was drunk, so I can at least let him have a comfortable sleep. Qi Jing thought it over and over and finally didn’t lead Shen Yan to the study, going for the bedroom instead. After all, that wide bed in the bedroom was a little more s.p.a.cious and comfy in comparison.

“Come here, slow down, slow down a little, there’s no hurry.”

In fact, Qi Jing really enjoyed leading Shen Yan like that, taking care of him. It was because he had received too much care from Shen Yan, so now, he felt satisfied being able to repay that kindness, his heart filled with a cozy warmth.

It was deep into the darkness of the night already. They had turned off all of the lights besides the one from the hanging lamp, so the only light source remained in the living room. The closer they were to the bedroom, the darker it got around them, making them unable to see the path before them. That faint layer of light engulfing their bodies was close to disappearing, thin like a sheet of paper that could be torn off at any moment.

But Qi Jing wasn’t worried—his eyes stayed on Shen Yan this whole time. He already had that appearance carved in his heart, and as long as he was given a few outlines, he would be able to fill in that man’s everything. So even if it was dark, it didn’t matter.

But it seemed that Shen Yan minded that a lot, “I’m about to lose sight of you.”

Qi Jing could feel Shen Yan clenching his hand tightly, like a lost child scared of losing its beacon. Drunk people were likely to feel negative emotions, not to mention that Shen Yan had been mumbling and pleading with him not to go.

“Wait for a bit while I go to turn on the lights in the bedroom.” Qi Jing could only use his right hand, so he slowly released his hand after warning Shen Yan, turning to grope around the wall in search of the light switch.

The light switch was on the other side of the wall. From Qi Jing’s position, he had to move his hand behind the door frame and bend it to be able to touch it. He couldn’t find it for quite a while in that pitch-black darkness and had to take it slow.

“Qi Jing.”

“I’ll be right back, just wait for a while.”

“Qi Jing.” It was as if Shen Yan didn’t hear his previous words, continuing to call him persistently.

These few seconds of waiting seemed to be like an eternity to Shen Yan. His voice started trembling faintly and he kept calling Qi Jing’s name. Qi Jing’s heart was about to melt from his calling—he was about to comfort him, yet out of nowhere, his body couldn’t move.

Because Shen Yan suddenly rendered him still with a hug.

“Hu—” Qi Jing was so startled he sucked in a mouthful of cold air, his whole body straightening.

His back was plastered closely against that person’s chest, the heat burning through the two layers of fabric between them, penetrating right into his bones. Even the hardest of bones will be melted by it, leaving him soft like jelly, without an ounce of strength in his body.

The hand that reached out to switch on the light was frozen still in the midair.

One of Shen Yan’s arms circled around his waist, pausing for a bit on his elbow, before feeling bit by bit along his forearm, eventually reaching his wrist—at last, he firmly grasped Qi Jing’s hand. The centre of his palm was hot, so hot that it was covered with a layer of sweat. It didn’t matter if it belonged to the one holding, or the one being held.

When that hand had slowly pulled back and pressed against Qi Jing’s abdomen, the embrace was finally completed.

An old wall clock ticked continuously, recording that moment of silence between the two people. Meanwhile, pattering of the rain came from outside the window, filling the s.p.a.ce in between.

All was calm around them but the sound of low breaths coming from the person behind him—the coldness of the night rain, as well as that ball of fire embracing him. Both of the sides were contradictory, yet still interweaved to the point where Qi Jing couldn’t even think about the location of the light switch anymore. His mind was blank, only able to discern his own name.

Only because Shen Yan kept repeating those two words, his voice hoa.r.s.e and resolute, “Qi Jing. Qi Jing…”

Qi Jing knew Shen Yan wasn’t completely drunk. He remembered to avoid touching his injury and hugged him at a lower point, so there was at least a part of his mind that was sober—it was his own will that was in the move.

More important, however, was the fact that Qi Jing himself didn’t want to struggle at all.

“You have to… hug me a little harder.” Qi Jing said suddenly, his low voice struck like a tender blade from between the continuous and vague sounds of rain, stabbing towards him but not hurting, “Otherwise I will go away.”

The man behind him seemed to have trembled violently, both his arms strengthening their hold all at once, leaving no gap between them. Even if he was drunk, it was still an adult man’s strength. Under the influence of Qi Jing’s words, this strength grew, growing even bolder, with a desperate sense of seeking salvation within.

But it also contained restraint and tenderness, avoiding hurting him.

Qi Jing didn’t feel any pressure coming from Shen Yan. In that embrace, there was only yearning, no forcing. The only source of oppression he could feel came from the pit of his stomach—his heart thrashed there violently, beating wildly against his chest, the noise it made so loud, it seemed as if it was about to jump out of it. Blood rushed rapidly through his whole body, making him dizzy for a moment, his knees going weak. He couldn’t stop trembling, but it wasn’t out of fear.

That was what he wanted.

All of it.

Perhaps it wasn’t only Shen Yan who was drunk, but also him—alcohol makes people honest and loyal to their hearts.

“Qi Jing.” Shen Yan burrowed his head in the crook of Qi Jing’s neck, once again calling his name in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

This time, the last bit of his voice came out fuzzy, as his lips were touching that neck gently, planting an utmostly restrained kiss. But no matter how much he controlled his emotions, that low, deep gasp for breath still landed there with burning.

Qi Jing seemed to tremble, his shoulders shaking a little, but he didn’t struggle.

He didn’t struggle at all.

Shen Yan moved further, entranced. He burrowed his nose in that still not completely dry hair of Qi Jing’s, thoroughly claiming that sweet scent left after bathing. At the same time, his lips and Qi Jing’s skin parted for a short while. In the next moment, the second kiss landed slightly higher, close behind the back of his ear, issuing a faint, moist sound. “Qi Jing.”

Between the second and the third kiss, he called that name yet again.

Its owner was held securely in his embrace. The double effect of both lack of light and alcohol at work made him unable to see, so he relied on his hearing, sense of smell and touch. It was hard to tell whose body was so hot, as their heat had already become one. That heat made the smell on Qi Jing’s body intensify—it was even more intoxicating than the wine.

So the third one landed on Qi Jing’s ear.

Starting from the auricle, the kisses came over, faltering, clumsy and full of thirst. During the course of it, he only felt it was shockingly hot, the sounds in his ear were crisp yet soft; only the earlobe felt a little cold. So he couldn’t help but open his mouth, and silently hold it between his lips.

“Ah…” Qi Jing felt his knees really were about to give up, he couldn’t stand still and gasped in a low voice.

Even though he couldn’t see Shen Yan’s eyes, he still remembered them being so similar to that blackness of the ocean. At that very moment, he seemed to have already sunk—no matter if it was the feeling of being unable to catch a breath, or of his legs being unable to muster any strength in the water, all of it felt so real.

He chose to jump into that ocean himself.

So all of it, he did not regret.

“Qi Jing, don’t go.” From the beginning to the end, Shen Yan couldn’t forget his words—even at that moment, he kept calling in a low voice by his ear.

He moved back to the side of Qi Jing’s neck, kissing there lightly, his head rubbing against Qi Jing intimately, the rushed pulsing of blood in the aorta undulating under his lips time and time again.

In a moment of pa.s.sion, his fingers instinctively searched for Qi Jing’s b.u.t.tons—he undid two of the b.u.t.tons, his hand trembling slightly, then reached to slip under the s.h.i.+rt.

Qi Jing gasped yet again. This gasp was even more urgent than the previous one, more repressed.

He still didn’t harbour any intent of resisting.

Shen Yan’s hands were dry and warm, he was well aware of that before—he would experience them every time before the shower, during those thirty seconds he treasured so dearly.

And now, it was the first time for his body to be touched by Shen Yan’s hand this straightforwardly, this openly.

Even if he was clear on the fact that Shen Yan wasn’t thinking straight right now, it also wasn’t an accident—it gave him a huge psychological impact. He was rendered numb for a while, and he subconsciously called, “Shen Yan—”

A/N:

Just like before, this chapter is all about details… But you understand.

T/N:

Lucilla: Hohoho, you bet I do. All the little details are nearly as hot as the actual stuff (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

Mas.h.i.+ro: (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ （＞ω＜。）( ◡ω⊙✿) （ ☆∀☆ ）( ͡☉⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ͜ʖ̫⁄ ⁄ ͡☉)

“And today’s question is “ Who got to eat the TOFU?”

“And the right answer isssssss, dun dun dun dun. Yes it’s our Sweet Sweet Goose”