When Lin FenXiang finished speaking, he fell silent and held his breath whilst waiting for his lover's reaction.
“What do you mean?“ Yan Hansheng asked, after a long moment of silence. He leaned further into his lover's embrace and looked up at him, heart beating harder at Lin FenXiang's silence.
Peculiar.
“FenXiang,” Yan Hansheng called out, keeping his voice soft as the sun fell on his handsome features while he looked up at Lin FenXiang with his head tilted backwards. “FenXiang, why are you so quiet? Explain.“
Lin FenXiang pursed his lips and closed his eyes as he bowed his head and pressed his forehead against Yan Hansheng's. Letting out a sigh, he murmured.
“The painting in that hall... It's, for the lack of better words, peculiar.“ As he spoke, the wind around them picked up, and the green leaves on the tall trees rustled. It was unsettling.
It was eerie.