Midnight has arrived, and it's the start of a new year.
Amidst the crackling of firecrackers, Shen Zhifei thrust into Song Lang's body, giving him no time to adjust. He fucked fiercely, his gaze no longer gentle as before.
He was unrestrained and arrogant, each thrust seeming to penetrate this young and vigorous body. His masculine wildness and possessiveness were laid bare before Song Lang at this moment.
Song Lang was experiencing both pain and pleasure from being fucked, so he tightly hugged Shen Zhifei's neck and kissed him passionately.
Two young bodies clashed and pounded passionately, from the desk to the bed, and then to the wall. The room's light switch was touched in a frenzy, plunging them into darkness, yet they were also illuminated by the fireworks in the night sky by the window.
Finally, Song Lang was pressed onto the desk, his back to Shen Zhifei, and was fucked until he ejaculated a second time. During the climax, his tight anus gripped him so tightly that Shen Zhifei ejaculated inside him at the same time.
Shen Zhifei leaned down and kissed his burning earlobe, saying in a hoarse voice, "Happy New Year, baby."
Song Lang's legs went weak and he slumped onto the table. When he recovered, his first thought was to look at his chest. Shen Zhifei's name was still clearly etched into his skin, rising and falling with his heartbeat.
He turned to look at the name on Shen Zhifei's body; it was crooked and looked uglier the more he looked at it.
"Feifei, go take a shower and wash away my scribblings quickly," Song Lang urged.
Shen Zhifei smiled and kissed his forehead: "I don't want to wash it off, I want to get it tattooed on my chest."
"Stop fooling around, hurry up, let's go take a shower together, otherwise Mom and Dad will be back soon." Song Lang leaned half his weight on Shen Zhifei and went to the bathroom with him for a quick shower.
Actually, he couldn't bear to wash it off; Shen Zhifei's handwriting was so beautiful that it looked especially fitting on his chest.
He dawdled until the very last moment before pointing the showerhead at his chest. However, the ink couldn't be washed off immediately, and the handwriting was still faintly discernible, which suited him perfectly. He wanted to leave this intimate mark on his body for a little longer.
After the two finished showering, their parents still hadn't returned. Song Lang lay on Shen Zhifei's bed playing on his phone, reviewing the bunch of inexplicable New Year's greetings he'd exchanged with Meng Fanxing. The more he looked, the more he felt that she was actually insulting him.
He simply tossed his phone aside and turned over to sleep.
In his half-asleep state, he seemed to be having a dream.
In his dream, he practiced calligraphy diligently and finally became a renowned calligrapher. Then, Shen Zhifei, her eyes red, nestled in his arms, tearfully handing him a pen and pleading, "Brother, can you sign your name for me?"
Upon seeing his pitiful, tearful appearance, Song Lang's heart softened completely. He immediately signed his name on the chest marked with red marks amidst the white skin.
He chuckled twice, mumbled "Feifei, don't cry," then turned over and went back to sleep facing the wall.
Shen Zhifei put away the pen, tucked the blanket around Song Lang, and then sat quietly alone at the desk for a long time before drawing the curtains, lying down next to Song Lang, and closing her eyes.
His hand rested on his chest, where his burning ideals were written.
Chapter 053
Although Song Lang didn't really like the May 3rd gift set, he understood Shen Zhifei's feelings. After the New Year, when various shops and malls gradually reopened, he went to the jade market alone, picked out two decent-quality jade beads, strung them together with black cord to make two bracelets, one for him and one for Shen Zhifei.
"This thing wasn't expensive; I bought it with my saved allowance."
He tied the black rope around Shen Zhifei's left wrist, making her skin appear even whiter and more beautiful.
Song Lang once again marveled at his own discerning eye; his ability to judge people and choose things was top-notch.
"When I start working and earning my own money, you can use this bracelet to exchange for something more valuable."
Shen Zhifei stroked the small piece of jade, about the size of a fingernail, with delight. "I really like this. It's the first gift you gave me, so I can't just give it away."
"Tch, the first gift I gave you was clearly that popsicle, and you threw it away without even opening the packaging, and then pushed me over the edge. Do you think I've forgotten?" Song Lang jokingly punched Shen Zhifei in the chest, and the latter's expression hardened slightly, letting out a muffled groan.
He sensed something was wrong, frowned, and asked, "What's wrong? I can't possibly be that strong, can I?"
"It's okay." Shen Zhifei leaned over, took his hand, and helped him put on the bracelet.
"What do you mean 'nothing'? Let me see." Song Lang pulled open Shen Zhifei's collar, peeked inside, and was stunned.
He hurriedly rolled up Shen Zhifei's clothes from bottom to top, and a large amount of light shone on the boy's lean and strong body, making the fresh, still blood-red tattoo on his chest exceptionally clear.
"You—" Song Lang's throat tightened and became hoarse, "When did you get this tattoo? Does it hurt?"
Her fingertips hovered two or three centimeters above Shen Zhifei's chest, hesitant to drop them.
"When you went to buy a gift today," Shen Zhifei said, straightening her clothes and noticing his reddened eyes, "were you so moved you almost cried?"
"I'm so stupid I could cry." Song Lang rubbed his eyes a few times, feigning anger to hide his inner shock, and asked, "Didn't you wash the words off? This signature is so damn ugly and abstract, how could the tattoo artist have the heart to do that?"
"Is it ugly? I think it's quite artistic." Shen Zhifei held his hand and smiled, "You have a special style when you pick up the brush and write."
"I was dreaming! Of course it looks cool!" Song Lang said with a long face. "If you really want to get it tattooed, wait until I've mastered my signature. It's a waste of time now."
“It’s worth it, I like it.” Shen Zhifei poked his cheek. “I love anything that’s yours.”
"Get lost, stop arguing with me."
Song Lang grumbled and cursed, but his heart ached terribly. It was just a tattoo, but it was as if Shen Zhifei had been stabbed in the chest. He was temporarily not going to the dojo, and he was the one running errands for his mother downstairs to buy salt and soy sauce. Even if Shen Zhifei reached out to get a tissue, he had to do it for him.
"Unsolicited kindness is always suspicious; there's no smoke without fire." Shen Lingyu scrutinized her eldest son. "Tell me, what have you done that you've been up to?"
“What could I possibly have done wrong? What’s wrong with him?” Song Lang picked up a piece of chicken and threw it into Shen Zhifei’s bowl, saying, “He was so tired from tutoring me that he fell asleep on the table. When he woke up, he said his chest felt tight and painful, like something was stuck in his chest.”
Shen Lingyu looked suspicious, and Song Lang quickly nudged Shen Zhifei with his knee under the table.
Shen Zhifei then came to his rescue: "Yes, my brother is right."
“Alright then,” Shen Lingyu didn’t pursue the matter further, and said, “You two change your clothes in a bit and come with me to your Aunt Meng’s house. They just came back from their hometown, and since I have time today, let’s go and pay them a belated New Year’s visit.”
"I'm not going." Song Lang was still upset about the New Year's greetings filled with question marks, and he didn't want to see Meng Fanxing at all.
"You have to go, whether you like it or not. Hurry up." Shen Lingyu gave the order domineeringly, and Song Lang reluctantly left the house.
As a result, he awkwardly prepared himself mentally the whole way, only to find out when he arrived at Meng Fanxing's house that the grandson was still in the countryside and hadn't returned yet. He heard that he wouldn't be back until a few days later when school started.
Song Lang thought to himself, "This idiot is still avoiding me."
As expected, Meng Fanxing still showed a clear tendency to avoid school after the start of the semester. At least she used to be willing to sit and eat with Song Lang, but now she simply stood three strong men away from him as if that wasn't far enough.
"You son of a bitch, what the hell do you mean by this?" Song Lang couldn't stand it anymore. If you're going to break up, then break up; if not, then make up quickly. What's with this half-hearted attitude? He didn't want to date Meng Fanxing.
"I want to ask you a few more questions!" Meng Fanxing roared back, baring her teeth as if she wanted to devour someone.
"What did I do to you?" Song Lang poked himself, then punched Song Lang's chest. "You're the one who's been playing hide-and-seek with me, not me. What do you want? Just give me a straight answer. I don't want to waste my breath arguing with you."
"Holy crap, Song Lang, you're seriously ill. You were the one who initiated the reconciliation. Oh, are you regretting it now? Feeling embarrassed and losing face? Sending that sarcastic 'Happy New Year' message like that, I was so happy I wanted to kick you into a spiraling explosion!"
Meng Fanxing had been holding back for two or three months, and hadn't been able to be witty in a long time, so his tongue was a little sluggish. He even bit his tongue, which hurt so much that he frowned.
Song Lang sneered, "I'm taking the initiative to make peace? Go to hell! You call me sarcastic, but aren't you the one who's unwilling?"