Chapter 70 Do You Want to Go Back to the Country with Me?

Back in the hotel room, Lu Er kicked off his shoes and threw himself onto the soft sofa.

Uncontrollably, his mind conjured images of Song Jingmo in some dazzling, neon-lit venue, flirting with blonde, blue-eyed beauties. The thought made his chest feel unbearably tight.

Just then, his phone rang—it was Qu Suiwan.

Startled, Lu Er straightened up at once. He took a deep breath before answering, trying to keep his voice steady. “Aunt Qu?”

“Er’er, are you back in your room?” Qu Suiwan’s gentle voice came through. “I made some white fungus and lotus seed soup for your throats. I couldn’t reach Momo, so come down and get it, and have some together.”

“Ah, okay, okay! Thank you, Aunt Qu, I’ll come right away!” Lu Er replied quickly.

After hanging up, he put on his shoes while muttering inwardly: Of course you couldn’t reach him—he’s probably lost in some gentle embrace, who has time to check their phone?

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. A nameless irritation mixed with an indescribable sourness burned through him.

With his head lowered, he hurried downstairs, took the still-warm food container from Qu Suiwan’s assistant, thanked them, and walked back, lost in thought.

He remembered what Song Jingmo had said before—no matter who Lu Er was with, as long as he called, Song Jingmo would come.

With slightly trembling fingers, Lu Er unblocked that previously blacklisted number. Hesitating, struggling, he finally pressed dial.

A long string of ringing echoed in his ear, each tone striking against his taut nerves.

No answer.

After it automatically hung up, only the cold busy tone remained.

As if all his strength had been drained, Lu Er leaned against the icy elevator wall and gave a self-mocking smile.

Maybe Song Jingmo had just said those words casually to comfort him. Only a fool like him would take it seriously.

Who knew—maybe he was enjoying himself right now. Why would he remember something like this?

Carrying the food container, Lu Er walked out of the elevator dejectedly and headed toward his room.

But just as he stepped halfway inside, his phone suddenly vibrated.

His heart skipped a beat. He scrambled to answer, his voice unconsciously tinged with grievance. “Hello?”

“I was just in the shower.”

On the other end, Song Jingmo’s voice was low and slightly hoarse, as if softened by steam.

The background was quiet—nothing like a noisy entertainment venue. “What’s up?”

So he was showering.

Lu Er felt half his tension melt away, though the lingering frustration hadn’t completely faded. Stiffly, he said, “Aunt Qu sent over some soup. She said we should eat it together.”

“Mm.” Song Jingmo responded, then gave a room number. “Come over.”

Carrying the container, Lu Er walked to Song Jingmo’s door and rang the bell.

The door opened quickly. A wave of warm steam mixed with the fresh scent of body wash rushed out.

Song Jingmo stood there, loosely wearing a white bathrobe.

The belt was casually tied at his waist, revealing well-defined abs and a firm chest.

His short black hair was still dripping, a few damp strands clinging to his full forehead. He held a towel in one hand, casually wiping his hair.

Lu Er’s ears flushed instantly, his gaze unsure where to land. He could only lower his head.

Only a few warm yellow wall lamps were on in the room, creating an inexplicably intimate atmosphere.

Lu Er set the container on the small table. Unable to hold back any longer, he casually asked the question that had been bothering him all along, “Didn’t you go with Gu Jinzhou?”

Song Jingmo paused slightly while wiping his hair and looked at him.

His tone was calm, yet carried a natural arrogance. “I have high standards. I don’t just take in anyone.”

The words were like a breeze, instantly dispersing the last of Lu Er’s doubts and sour feelings.

He quickly agreed, with a hint of complaint, “Gu Jinzhou isn’t a good person. His private life is a mess. Stay away from him in the future—be careful he doesn’t trick you!”

Song Jingmo didn’t respond, simply focusing on drying his hair.

Lu Er watched his black hair, softened by the warm air, and the pale, slender nape revealed by the bathrobe collar, and drifted into a daze.

After drying his hair, Song Jingmo extended his long, well-defined fingers and leisurely opened the food container, taking out the still-warm soup.

His hands were slender and fair, nails neatly trimmed.

Under the light, they had a healthy sheen, and Lu Er couldn’t help but be drawn to them.

Song Jingmo’s hands were balanced and strong—whether holding a scalpel or simply opening a container like this, they carried an elegant, pleasing quality.

Lu Er was mesmerized.

Song Jingmo opened the lid and handed him a spoon. “Eat.”

The two quietly ate together. The sweet, soft soup eased the earlier tension.

After hesitating for a moment, Lu Er finally asked the question on his mind, “How do you know my songs? And you sing them so well…”

In his memory, Song Jingmo had never been interested in pop music.

Without looking up, Song Jingmo said in a low voice, as if stating a simple fact, “Listen enough, and you’ll learn.”

After a pause, he continued, a trace of loneliness in his tone, “During those years abroad, listening to your songs was the only way to feel a little closer to you.”

Lu Er’s heart felt like it had been struck hard. A sour, tingling sensation spread instantly through his whole body.

Just then, the phone on the table lit up. Lu Er picked it up—it was a message from Yan Huaijin.

[Yan Huaijin: Are you free tomorrow? There’s a nice art exhibition at the Royal Castle. Want to go together?]

Before he could reply, he felt a gaze fall on him.

Looking up, he saw Song Jingmo frowning slightly, his eyes sweeping over the phone screen.

Though he quickly looked away, the fleeting displeasure was barely concealed.

Lu Er’s heart tightened inexplicably.

He set down his phone, didn’t reply immediately, and instead asked, “When are you going back to the country?”

“Tomorrow morning’s flight,” Song Jingmo said, putting down his spoon. “Arrive in A City at night, work the day after.”

Then he looked at Lu Er and casually asked, “Do you still have work tomorrow?”

Lu Er shook his head. “No, my schedule here is finished.”

Song Jingmo looked at him. Under the warm yellow light, his deep eyes seemed especially gentle. “Then… do you want to go back with me?”

Lu Er froze.

Song Jingmo’s expression remained calm, but there was a clear expectation in his eyes.

An indescribable joy burst in his heart like fireworks, instantly sweeping away all the gloom.

He nodded vigorously, his voice bright with excitement. “I do.”

Right after saying that, he picked up his phone, opened Yan Huaijin’s chat, and quickly typed a reply:

[Lu Er: Sorry, Teacher Yan, I have to return early tomorrow. Thank you for the invitation!]

After sending it, he looked up, meeting Song Jingmo’s gaze, and revealed his first genuine smile of the night—slightly foolish, but completely sincere.