Luo Binghe doesn't resist as Shen Qingqiu pulls his wrist back and grabs his hand. The carefulness of his touch—the way he touches Luo Binghe as though he can scarcely believe he's permitted—threatens to undo him again.
Five years, and not by choice. Luo Binghe pays close attention to every word, including those swallowed in the pauses, trying to understand. He "acted in accordance with Shen Qingqiu"—then, was the original bastard still around somehow? Directing and manipulating this suggestible naïf? But as endearing as Luo Binghe finds this version, this Shen Qingqiu seems incapable of being honest with him. Why not tell him immediately, especially when Luo Binghe threatened his life? He's hiding something, and as deeply as Luo Binghe wants to believe in his simple acts of kindness, he does not trust easily. He wipes clean the last traces of wetness on his face, attempting to harden his heart. "The qi deviation you spoke of, then... It was a lie."
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Five years, and not by choice. Luo Binghe pays close attention to every word, including those swallowed in the pauses, trying to understand. He "acted in accordance with Shen Qingqiu"—then, was the original bastard still around somehow? Directing and manipulating this suggestible naïf? But as endearing as Luo Binghe finds this version, this Shen Qingqiu seems incapable of being honest with him. Why not tell him immediately, especially when Luo Binghe threatened his life? He's hiding something, and as deeply as Luo Binghe wants to believe in his simple acts of kindness, he does not trust easily. He wipes clean the last traces of wetness on his face, attempting to harden his heart. "The qi deviation you spoke of, then... It was a lie."