Chapter 266 He Likes You Very Much

After dinner, Song Jingmo took Lu Er for a walk around the courtyard to help digest the meal.

The old wooden house had a simple yet clean interior, filled with traces of the elderly man’s life everywhere.

Old photos and calligraphy paintings hung on the walls, and the air carried a faint, pleasant scent of wood.

Half an hour later, Song Jingmo led Lu Er to his room.

Their room was on the east side of the main hall—not large, but neatly arranged.

All the furniture was old-fashioned wood—bed, table, wardrobe—each carrying the weight of time.

On the bed lay a brand-new quilt with festive patterns, smelling faintly of sunshine, clearly dried in advance by the old man.

“Conditions are a bit simple—make do for now,” Song Jingmo said apologetically as he pushed the door open.

Lu Er smiled. “Doctor Song, I’m not someone who hasn’t endured hardship. When I filmed a variety show in Africa before, the place I stayed didn’t even have a bed.”

As he spoke, he looked around the room with curiosity. “This place has such an antique charm—way nicer than those artificially aged sets in film studios.”

He walked over to the somewhat aged-looking wooden bed and sat down, wanting to test it.

Creaaak—squeak—

The moment he sat, the bed let out a clear, rhythmic groan, as if protesting under the weight.

Lu Er: “!!!”

He instantly sprang up as if burned, his face flushing bright red. Looking at the bed, then at Song Jingmo, his voice even changed pitch: “Th-this bed… why does it make noise?!”

“Not as much as you do, Er’er.”

Song Jingmo teased, a smile spreading in his eyes. He walked over and pressed lightly on the bedboard, which immediately responded with another faint protest.

“It’s an old house, old furniture,” he said, holding back laughter as he looked at Lu Er’s embarrassed expression. “The wood might be a bit loose. Don’t worry—it won’t collapse.”

Lu Er made a miserable face. “Th-then how are we supposed to sleep tonight? I don’t sleep very still…”

He didn’t dare imagine what would happen if he turned over in the middle of the night and the bed started playing a creaking symphony—his grandfather next door would definitely think they were doing something inappropriate.

“It’s fine. I sleep very still,” Song Jingmo said seriously. “I’ll hold you so you don’t move.”

Lu Er got even more flustered. “That’s even worse!”

The bathroom in the old house was also rustic in style, but the hot water supply was plentiful.

After washing up, they changed into their pajamas and carefully lay down on the bed.

Sure enough, no matter how gentle they were, even the slightest shift in weight made the wooden bed creak.

They lay side by side, bodies stiff, not daring to move.

In the darkness, Song Jingmo asked softly, “Are you cold?”

“No,” Lu Er whispered. The quilt was thick, and the warmth from the person beside him kept spreading over.

After a while, Song Jingmo’s arm gently wrapped around him, pulling him slightly closer.

Lu Er’s body tensed a little, afraid the bed would make noise again.

Song Jingmo chuckled softly, his warm breath brushing against Lu Er’s ear. “Don’t be afraid. Just stay like this—don’t move.”

Held in his embrace, Lu Er’s nose filled with Song Jingmo’s clean, fresh scent, mixed with the woody fragrance of the old house.

Song Jingmo’s warm breath lingered by his ear. “Relax. It’s okay.”

“How is this okay?” Lu Er protested softly, though his body instinctively softened a little under the closeness.

Song Jingmo’s lips gently brushed his forehead, then the tip of his nose, and finally, he kissed Lu Er’s lips.

The kiss was light and slow, soothing yet carrying a restrained longing.

At first, Lu Er was still distracted by the bed’s noises, but he was soon captured by Song Jingmo’s gentleness and began responding more eagerly.

The kiss deepened, and both their breathing grew uneven.

Song Jingmo’s hand tentatively slipped under Lu Er’s pajama hem, resting on the warm skin of his waist.

Lu Er’s breath became unsteady, his body heating up, but the remnants of reason and embarrassment still held firm.

“No…”

He grabbed Song Jingmo’s wandering hand, his voice soft and trembling. “It’s my first time visiting Grandpa’s house—I want to leave a good impression…”

If the bed started creaking nonstop and Grandpa heard, it would be too embarrassing to face him again.

Song Jingmo paused, his voice low and hoarse. “Er’er, Grandpa’s already asleep.”

Lu Er buried his face in his shoulder, pleading, “This bed makes noise with the slightest movement. Grandpa’s right next door—he’ll definitely hear.”

Song Jingmo fell silent.

In an old wooden house like this, the soundproofing was practically nonexistent.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm the restless fire in his body. In the end, he simply tightened his arms, pulling Lu Er closer into his embrace.

He placed a restrained kiss on the top of his head, his voice carrying helplessness and affection. “Alright. We’ll listen to you. Sleep.”

Lu Er snuggled against him, finding a comfortable position, and whispered, “Doctor Song, you’re really good.”

Song Jingmo gave a bitter smile, thinking: I’m not good at all—I’m suffering right now.

Feeling the obvious change behind him, Lu Er felt a little guilty and softly promised, “I’ll make it up to you when we get back.”

Song Jingmo said nothing, only lightly pinched his waist in mock punishment.

That night, the two slept in each other’s arms, behaving exceptionally well.

Over the next few days, Lu Er followed Grandpa around—planting vegetables, feeding the chickens in the yard, and listening to stories from his youth.

Song Jingmo helped check the electrical wiring of the old house, repaired some worn furniture, and occasionally played a few rounds of Chinese chess with Grandpa.

The fresh mountain air and slow pace of life allowed both of them—who were usually busy and under pressure—to finally relax.

Lu Er quickly grew close to Grandpa, calling him “Grandpa” sweetly at every turn.

Grandpa, in turn, grew increasingly fond of this good-looking, sweet-talking, hardworking “granddaughter-in-law,” often praising Lu Er for being more considerate than Song Jingmo.

On the afternoon of the third day, Song Jingmo’s phone rang.

It was an urgent call from the hospital—there was a complicated joint surgery the next day that required him to return as the lead surgeon.

When they said goodbye, Grandpa didn’t say much. He simply walked them to the gate and stuffed the car with plenty of vegetables he had grown himself.

“Drive safely. Even if work is busy, take care of your health. Come back whenever you have time.”

“Grandpa, we’ll definitely come back often. Please take care of yourself too.”

The car slowly drove away from the quiet mountain village.

In the rearview mirror, Grandpa stood at the gate, his figure growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared at the bend of the mountain road.

Lu Er withdrew his gaze, leaned back in his seat, still holding a warm boiled egg Grandpa had given him. “Grandpa is really kind.”

“Mm,” Song Jingmo said, looking at the road ahead. “He likes you very much.”

A smile lifted Lu Er’s lips, and the slight sadness of parting faded with those words.

To be with the one you love, and to have two different homes filled with love—it truly was an incredibly fortunate thing.