“Lian Jue, you’re nothing but a bitch! I’ll make Dad marry you off to a fifty-year-old man!”
“I’m warning you, don’t you dare set your sights on Chen Xingjian, or else I’ll expose every single one of your dirty little secrets!”
“You and that mother of yours are both born homewreckers, cheap trash through and through. Do you really want to burn bridges with me no matter the cost?”
The phone buzzed continuously. Lian Jue pulled it out from his inner pocket, glanced at it, and a mocking smile curled the corners of his lips.
Could a single hotel room photo really push someone to the verge of a breakdown like this?
Bitch, cheap trash—it was always the same old insults. He was already sick of looking at them; when would they ever come up with something fresh?
The mirror in front of him was covered in a layer of dust. Lian Jue pressed his fingertip against it.
A remarkably delicate face emerged from the glass.
His face was rounded, his almond eyes watery and shimmering with light, and his lips flushed red. A tiny, vivid crimson mole rested at the outer corner of his eye. To anyone looking, it was a face of pure, harmless innocence.
He wore the standard uniform of a hotel attendant: a red uniform that didn’t look the least bit tacky on him.
Lian Jue smiled with pursed lips, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his collar, raised a hand, and pushed open the side door of the hotel room.
The suite was unlit and terrifyingly quiet, save for the sound of Lian Jue’s footsteps.
His pure, sweet, and soft voice rang out cautiously, carrying a hint of probing hesitation.
“Mr. Chen, did you call for room service?”
No one answered. The only sound left in his ears was his own shallow breathing.
Lian Jue frowned almost imperceptibly.
Just as he was lost in thought, a low, hoarse voice slowly sounded from behind him on the right, startling Lian Jue and making his back stiffen.
“Room service? What kind of room service?”
No matter how high and mighty someone’s status and position were, they were ultimately just the same kind of trash as all those other wine-swilling, lazy good-for-nothings.
The situation was still within a controllable range.
At this moment, Lian Jue actually calmed down. Putting on a pure and harmless expression, he said with feigned panic, “Sir, I don’t do that kind of thing.”
Snap—
The room’s lights flickered on.
A few physiological tears welled up in Lian Jue’s eyes as he squinted to size up the man leaning sideways against the edge of the sofa.
The leather shoes on his feet were of fine quality; judging by the grain and texture, it was probably calfskin. The style was one he had never seen before it should be purely custom-made.
His clothing was likely an autumn-limited edition from some luxury boutique, with an average price running in the six figures.
Chen Xingjian scanned Lian Jue up and down, then raised a hand to pick up the wine glass by the table.
The mellow wine swirled back and forth in the cup, sending up a rich aroma. A mutton-fat jade bracelet on his wrist slid down his tight lower arm, hanging loosely against his wrist bone.
Lian Jue was surprised, his gaze involuntarily sticking to that jade bracelet.
It was mutton-fat jade of exceptionally fine quality, without a single flaw to be found anywhere.
A curse upon capitalism.
If Chen Xingjian were generous enough tonight to shove that bracelet directly into his hands, he could save up ten million, graduate from the hotel business for good, and never have to grovel or look at other people’s faces to make a living again.
Lian Jue put away his unrealistic fantasies, knelt half-way by the table, and began tidying up the clutter on the surface.
His kneeling technique, posture, and force were all meticulously controlled—he had practiced them ten million times before.
As his figure shifted, a small expanse of spring scenery spilled from his neckline. His collarbone, white as porcelain, contrasted against the bright glow of the crystal chandelier, dazzling and sweet to the point of intoxication.
Whether intentional or accidental, Lian Jue’s wrist trembled, knocking over the wine bottle on the table.
Bright red wine sprayed from the mouth of the bottle, streamed down Chen Xingjian’s trouser legs, and vanished into the cashmere carpet below.
Chen Xingjian’s gaze darkened by degrees, his eyes locking onto the exposed half of Lian Jue’s collarbone.
Lian Jue’s eyelashes fluttered, his body shrinking back as he raised his head with cautious timidity: “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.”
Brilliant, watery moisture quickly accumulated in his eyes, making him look like a little rabbit grabbed roughly by its tail and hoisted into the air, kicking its dangling hind legs in a pitiful display.
Chen Xingjian sat on the sofa, casually lowering his crossed legs, his right toe propping against Lian Jue’s thigh.
As if bestowing a great favor, he spoke in a low voice: “Open it.”
Lian Jue’s eyes grew hazy with tears, his carefully maintained expression freezing for a split second.
“Sir, I don’t know how.”
Lian Jue turned his face slightly to the side, his tears trembling on the verge of falling while his pearly teeth bit down hard on his lower lip.
Emotions of humiliation, timidity, and fear overlapped perfectly across his face.
He put on a thoroughly innocent and worldly-wise-free act.
Chen Xingjian seemed to let out a scoff, then raised his hand to stroke Lian Jue’s upturned face.
His palm slid downward, the web of his thumb locking onto Lian Jue’s chin as his fingertips ground forcefully across his pursed lips.
” feigning innocence is pointless. My patience is wearing thin.”
Lian Jue closed his eyes, knowing he couldn’t escape this ordeal, and simply lunged straight into Chen Xingjian’s arms, wrapping his arms around his waist.
Chen Xingjian’s embrace dipped as a fragrant, fluffy little rabbit rolled right into his arms.
Lian Jue rubbed against Chen Xingjian’s chest, sobbing softly. His fingers gripped tightly onto the six-figure lapel of the suit jacket, the tears welling from his eyes dampening the soft, luxurious shirt.
“Sir, I wasn’t feigning innocence.”
His pitiful and grievance-laden accusation, carrying a long, drawn-out tail end, easily stirred up a desire for destruction, making one want to pin him beneath oneself and ravage him over and over again.
Yet Lian Jue refused to stay still, insisting on thrashing about and rubbing against the man’s chest.
“I—I didn’t mean to knock the wine over, I really wasn’t doing it on purpose, I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”
“I really don’t know how, I’ve never learned, this is my very first time.”
Chen Xingjian’s palm dropped unbidden onto Lian Jue’s lower back. The waist was so slender it was perhaps only the span of a single palm.
The desire provoked by Lian Jue’s little movements easily threatened to spark into a raging wildfire, burning hot from the chest down, making him eager to drag the prey in his arms straight down to hell with him.
“Sir, I can’t afford to pay for that glass of wine. If you’re going to make me pay for it myself, can you please be a little gentle?”
The string of reason snapped completely at that moment. Chen Xingjian lifted Lian Jue by the hips with one hand and carried him over to the bed.
Right as the arrow was taut on the bow, he stared down at Lian Jue’s obedient and soft-looking face and asked, “Are you of age yet?”
Lian Jue’s breathing hitched; this man actually had a pretty high moral standard.
Growing intrigued, he propped himself up by his elbows on the bed, held his ID card between his teeth, desire swirling in his eyes while his face maintained that same innocent and harmless look.
“Would sir like to check for himself?”
Chen Xingjian’s throat tightened as his hand reached out to hook the back of Lian Jue’s neck.
Leaning close to Lian Jue’s ear, he said through clenched teeth, “You seduced me yourself, so you’d better take what’s coming to you.”
The pain made it feel as though his spine were shattering inch by inch. Chen Xingjian acted as if he had never tasted meat before, his strength terrifyingly heavy.
At first, Lian Jue could still muster a shred of energy to cooperate, but by the end, he was like a dead fish on a cutting board, entirely at the mercy of being flipped back and forth.
Yet Chen Xingjian looked thoroughly satisfied, still having enough energy after finishing up to head to the bathroom for a shower.
Lian Jue let out a long sigh of relief, desperately psyching himself up by thinking about the cash waiting behind Chen Xingjian.
Fine, fine. Whatever happens, you can’t argue with money.
He opened his camera app and took a selfie.
His collar was wide open, revealing a large expanse of red marks, while a mutton-fat jade bracelet was cleverly visible in the background.
I’m so sorry, brother. I had my hands full with something, so I replied to your message a little late.