Possessive Madman Coaxes Him With a Hand on His Waist! The Cold-Hearted Host Starts to Feel Something - Chapter 55

As soon as Yan Xun stepped out into the stairwell, a strange smell hit his nose.

Downstairs, in the direction of the kitchen, wisps of black smoke were curling upward.

Yan Xun frowned. The housekeeper only handled cleaning and never cooked. He hadn’t touched the stove since yesterday either—

So why was there smoke?

Could it be… a fire?

That thought sent him racing down the stairs.

The moment he reached the living room, the scene in the kitchen came into view.

Li Cheng was tossing a fish into a pot—hot oil splattered everywhere—then, with a spatula in one hand and a piece of ginger in the other, he bolted straight out of the kitchen.

He looked every inch like someone born to blow kitchens up.

“Ahhh!” Li Cheng cried out as soon as he ran out. The flame from the stove had caught onto the pot itself.

“What do I do now?!”

【……How would I know?!】

Too much oil—that must be it! That was Li Cheng’s conclusion.

A-Keng’s voice came through, utterly exasperated: 【Fox Host! You need to have a little self-awareness. You’re a fox, not a chef. Just let your husband do it instead…】

Li Cheng found that logic flawless. He turned around—and there, not far behind him, stood Yan Xun.

So he walked right up to him and, with practiced ease, handed over the spatula. “Here… you’d better do it instead…”

Yan Xun looked at the man in front of him. Shock flickered across his face, swiftly giving way to disbelief—and then to joy.

Those dark, subdued eyes of his suddenly lit up, like lost stars finding their way home. His whole being seemed to come alive again.

It’s not a dream…

It’s not a dream!

It was real.

The person he had missed and longed for all this time—after an entire year—was right here, standing before him.

Yan Xun felt his vision blur slightly from the sudden sting in his eyes.

“Hey—” Li Cheng gasped as he was suddenly pulled forward, straight into a warm, solid embrace.

Yan Xun wrapped his arms tightly around him—too tightly, almost desperately—holding on as if he could fuse them into one, melt Li Cheng into his bones and blood, never to be parted again.

Li Cheng could barely breathe, but he didn’t resist. He simply let Yan Xun hold him as long as he needed.

“Yan Xun… I can’t breathe…” Li Cheng’s chest rose and fell rapidly.

After a long pause, a low, muffled voice sounded above his head. “Where did you go?”

Yan Xun’s tone wasn’t accusatory—he didn’t even dare to raise his voice. It trembled faintly, the sound falling low, heavy, and unsure.

He was terrified that the slightest edge in his voice might send Li Cheng away again.

“Where did you go…”

This time, it wasn’t even a question. It was a confession—of all the loneliness, confusion, and quiet suffering he had swallowed for the past year.

He couldn’t go through that again. Living without him had been like existing as an empty shell.

Li Cheng’s voice came out soft and muffled. He didn’t quite know how to explain.

“I went somewhere really far away… and then I couldn’t find my way back.”

Yan Xun no longer cared about the details. None of it mattered. As long as Li Cheng was back—right here, in his arms—he could let everything else go.

“From now on… don’t ever disappear without saying goodbye again, alright?” His voice carried a fragile note of pleading, his eyes growing redder with each word.

“Alright.” Li Cheng gently rubbed Yan Xun’s back, answering softly.

“You’re really back…?” His voice trembled slightly, as though he still couldn’t quite believe it.

“Really.”

“No tricks.”

Li Cheng shifted slightly in his embrace.

“I wanted to make you breakfast,” he said, his voice growing smaller by the second, “but I think I burned the pan…”

Following Li Cheng’s pointing finger, Yan Xun glanced toward the kitchen again—and couldn’t help but let out a helpless laugh.

But that realness, that chaos and smoke, made it all the clearer to him—Li Cheng was truly home.

The kitchen was still filled with smoke. Yan Xun reluctantly let go, walked in, and turned off the stove.

Meanwhile, the guilty culprit was glancing around nervously, clearly unsure where to hide.

Yan Xun closed the kitchen door, then strode back toward Li Cheng. Without another word, he scooped him up and carried him straight to the sofa.