Original Novel | Long-form | BL
Xia Shizhi's hands were cool and delicate, with long, distinct knuckles and faint calluses left by years of holding a knife.
Ji Jing's hands were warm and broad, with clean fingertips. Whenever they were touched, they instinctively curled around the other person's hand.
One late night, as he lay in bed and closed his eyes, the images that crossed his mind were Ji Jing's profile as he bent his head to study carving, his smiling eyes as he looked up, and the words he whispered near his ear: “Master Shizhi.”
Ji Jing had loved Xia Shizhi ever since he was eight.
