The Flowers in Your Garden Part 7

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Lan WangJi hoisted the crate of chilli oil bottles and brought it into the Jingshi. The gasp that came from the other man sitting by their little table was both pleasing and embarrassing, because when the knock came on the door, Lan Zhan was preparing for a bath.

So now, Wei WuXian was treated to a bare chested Lan Zhan basically flexing because to him, that crate was practically weightless. But Wei Ying's admiration was all over his face as he stood up quickly, ready to assist.

"Aiyaah, Lan Zhan! We could have carried it in together!" He said, helplessly admiring how Lan Zhan’s pectoral muscles contracted and expanded, the way he was lifting with his stomach muscles, and the rippling eight pack of abdominal muscles as he put the crate down. And his back muscles was a whole other story...those shoulder blades were simply magnificent...

"No need." Lan Zhan replied gruffly, secretly pleased by the expression on Wei Ying's face. "This is chilli oil. For Wei Ying." He paused to emphasise his point. "If eating here, Wei Ying must promise to help himself. If dining hall, then Wei Ying must promise to take a bottle with him. Mn?"

Wei Ying stared into golden intense eyes that bore no hint of compromise, and he found himself nodding shyly. He sat back down at their table with a sigh, both for what he had to do, and what he wanted to do but really couldn't because he wasn't that shameless.

But it wasn't his fault if the eye candy was too delicious...

He looked back down at the formulas of mixing basic ingredients to create all kinds of pastes, from healing ones to tracking ones and others, but in truth, all of his attention was taken away by whatever was happening behind the screen.

His ears were unconsciously straining to hear the slightest noises as they occurred, his brain helpfully supplying image after image of a barely clothed neighbour...

The soft whisper of pure white silk as Lan Zhan removed his sleeping trousers, and Wei Ying could feel his face getting hotter. Since studying was a bust, he decided to lay his face on the cool parchment on the table and close his eyes.

Only now, every single sound was amplified.

Soft dripping water as it fell back into the tub, the almost melodic sounds of splashing water as Lan Zhan was no doubt trying not to make a mess, the ripples of water as it hit the edge of the bathtub, the louder noises when Lan Zhan shifted in the waters....all of it was torture.

Wei Ying bit his lip so hard, he could taste the coppery tang of blood, trying not to make a sound. With each hushed sound coming from the other side of the screen, he felt like he was dying a little, piece by piece.

And then, there was an annoyed sigh from over there.

More splashing water...but maybe a little agitated this time.

"Wei Ying?"

Barely a whisper but Wei Ying's head shot up at that. He stood up and went over to the screen, hovering, and not wanting to embarrass Lan Zhan or himself further...but Lan Zhan had called out to him...right?

He rocked on his heels, wondering what to do.

"Wei Ying?" Louder this time.

"Um...yeah...Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying wanted to kick himself hard. Why had his voice come out at such an unnatural pitch? So much higher than its normally level tone.

"I forgot...my towel. Please could you hand it to me?" It was said so low, Wei Ying had to strain to hear the words.

"Er...." He looked around, searching for Lan Zhan’s towel and once it was in his hands, he paused, wondering how to pass it to him.

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