Good Morning Kiss

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting a hazy glow into the inner room, where dust motes floated slowly in the beams of light.

Zhou Heng was awakened by his biological clock and the faint sounds of drills outside the tent.

He groggily opened his eyes, and his first instinct was to reach for the bed beside him—it was empty. Xiao Jue's bedding was perfectly smooth, without a single wrinkle; he had clearly been up for a while.

Zhou Heng let out a long sigh of relief, collapsing back onto his pillow as if he had survived a disaster, feeling his bones, which had been tense all night, cracking.

He lay there for a full three seconds before slowly sitting up, with a hangover-like headache.

Her inner garment was wrinkled from sleeping, the collar was crooked, revealing a small section of her collarbone, and a few tufts of hair were sticking up. She had a dazed and confused look, as if she had just been pulled out of bed.

There were very low voices and the soft rustling of papers outside. Xiao Jue was handling official business, his tone calm and composed, showing no sign of anything amiss.

Zhou Heng rubbed his temples, yawning as he threw off the covers and stepped out barefoot. The cold carpet made him shiver, and he was fully awake.

He scratched his messy, sleep-grown hair, wondering whether to get dressed first or wash his face, when the curtain to the inner room was lifted by a hand with distinct knuckles.

Xiao Jue walked in. He was dressed neatly, his dark-colored casual clothes accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, his jade belt fastened meticulously, and his hair tied up with a simple ebony hairpin, revealing his full forehead and cold, hard jawline.

The morning light streamed in from behind him, gilding him with a pale gold edge, making him look... respectable and imposing. Zhou Heng silently completed the assessment in his mind.

Seeing Zhou Heng standing on the ground with messy hair and disheveled clothes, Xiao Jue walked straight over without stopping.

Zhou Heng subconsciously straightened up a bit, hurriedly tugging at his crooked collar, trying to make himself look less slovenly, and mumbled with his eyes downcast, "My Lord."

Xiao Jue stopped in front of him, very close. Zhou Heng could smell the clean and refreshing scent of soapberry on him, as well as a very faint, cool fragrance of ink sticks.

Suddenly, his chin was gently pinched by several cool fingers. The pressure was light, but it carried an unquestionable, habitual sense of control, forcing him to raise his head.

Zhou Heng opened his eyes wide in astonishment, meeting Xiao Jue's gaze, which was inches away from his own.

Those eyes were deep, reflecting the faint light filtering through the window, yet they held no extra emotion, as calm as a lake surface covered with a thin layer of ice.

Then, before Zhou Heng could react at all, before his brain could even issue a "danger" warning, Xiao Jue lowered his head and kissed his lips with perfect naturalness.

It was a very brief, even hasty, contact. Dry, slightly cool lips touched, separated in an instant, as fast as an illusion.

A loud "boom" echoed in Zhou Heng's mind, as if someone had lit a string of firecrackers in his brain, leaving him dizzy and disoriented, his soul seemingly flying away.

He froze, his eyes wide open, his pupils clearly reflecting Xiao Jue's enlarged features so close to him.

He even forgot to breathe; all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head, only to recede completely in the next second, leaving only a cold, numb sensation and a buzzing sound in his ears.

I... got kissed?

Was it Xiao Jue?

Did they kiss?

Zhou Heng's CPU completely burned out, leaving a blank screen with only these few chilling short sentences scrolling wildly across the screen.

Xiao Jue had already straightened up, releasing his hand from his chin with a smooth and natural motion, as if he had simply brushed away non-existent dust from his cheek.

He even frowned slightly, his gaze lingering on the dazed face for a moment, his tone flat and emotionless, with a slight hoarseness unique to mornings: "Awake? Get up and wash up, it's time for breakfast."

After saying that, without waiting for Zhou Heng to react, he turned around and walked out of the room, the hem of his clothes making a neat arc.

Even after Xiao Jue's figure disappeared behind the curtain, Zhou Heng remained rooted to the spot like a fool frozen in place, one hand unconsciously raised, his fingertips trembling as he touched his lips.

Cool, soft... and it seems to carry a faint, almost imperceptible scent that belongs to someone else.

Zhou Heng gasped sharply, as if a drowning person had finally surfaced. His face drained of all color in an instant, then flushed bright red with hot blood, the redness spreading from the tips of his ears all the way to the base of his neck, even turning his bare collarbone pink.

What the hell is this?!

A good morning kiss?! A good morning kiss between two grown men?!

He stiffly and awkwardly moved to the copper basin, scooped up cold water, and splashed it hard on his face. The icy stimulation brought him slightly more awake, but the strange sensation on his lips lingered.

Just as his expression shifted and he was torn between two conflicting emotions, Xiao Jue's calm voice came from outside again, this time with a barely perceptible urging tone: "Are you still dawdling? The porridge is getting cold."

Zhou Heng jolted awake from his chaotic thoughts. In the end, his strong will to survive and his ostrich-like philosophy of "better to do less than more" and "a moment of patience will bring peace" prevailed.

Forget it... I'll just consider it a bizarre way my boss motivated me! I'll just consider it... a new form of workplace unspoken rules! I'll put up with it! It's all for the task! To get home as soon as possible! This little sacrifice... it's nothing!

He took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

With her head down, she moved to her small table in the outer room like a wronged wife. Breakfast was already laid out: congee, side dishes, and a plate of crispy-looking fried dough sticks.

Zhou Heng sat down silently, picked up his chopsticks, and began mechanically shoveling porridge into his mouth.

It tasted very good, with fragrant and sticky rice, but he couldn't taste any flavor at all and just couldn't swallow it.

He could feel Xiao Jue's gaze seemingly skimming over him like a dragonfly skimming the water, but when he nervously mustered all his courage to raise his eyelids to peek, the other had already looked away and was eating his breakfast elegantly and quickly, his profile calm and expressionless.

The atmosphere inside the tent was eerily quiet, with only the soft clinking of bowls and chopsticks.

As Zhou Heng chewed on the fried dough sticks with a bland taste, he was mentally scrolling through a barrage of comments: This is unbearable! Not only do I have to guard against the boss's "night raids" in the morning, but now they've started "day raids" too!