Liang Chu lay face down on the bed, feeling both miserable and humiliated. Last night, he hadn’t been able to hold out from start to finish. He’d fallen into a deep sleep long before the end was even in sight, unilaterally bringing an end to what felt like an endless, punishing act of intimacy.
Bucktooth Bear wobbled over unsteadily, holding out a cookie with its paw. Liang Chu opened his mouth and took a bite, then said mournfully, “My life is so hard. I feel like I’ve become the wife of a bandit chief, forcibly taken back to his mountain lair.”
Bucktooth Bear licked the cookie crumbs off its fur and replied, “Your efforts weren’t in vain. Yesterday, our mission points increased by two. We’re at 88 now.”
Liang Chu grumbled, “Only two? After all I’ve suffered, shouldn’t it have gone up by 20?”
Bucktooth Bear said, “We only had 14 left to begin with. Where would we get 20 from?”
Liang Chu sighed, “Life is hard.”
Bucktooth Bear sat on the floor, stretching its paws out as it looked at him. “Are you really that uncomfortable? When will you feel better? You’ve suffered so much.”
Liang Chu said sadly, “I’ll never recover.”
Bucktooth Bear replied sympathetically, “Don’t say that. Don’t lose heart. Once you’re better, you can carry me and go for a run. We’ll definitely get stronger.”
Liang Chu hesitated. He didn’t want to run. Some people said exercise could be addictive, but the process of getting addicted had to be painful. Still, for the sake of getting stronger, he nodded reluctantly, deciding he’d start exercising once he was better. At least he still had ten days to half a month to rest. Running was still a long way off.
The door creaked open softly, and Xie Shenxing walked in. Liang Chu whispered to Bucktooth Bear, “I don’t want to talk to him.”
Bucktooth Bear said, “Then we won’t talk to him.”
Xie Shenxing couldn’t see Bucktooth Bear. As the mission target approached, the little bear hugged its egg and rolled under the bed in a flurry.
Xie Shenxing pushed a small dining cart into the room. Wearing an apron, he looked like a handsome waiter. On the cart were light side dishes and a sweet, fragrant stomach-nourishing porridge. He bent down and called softly, “Coco.”
Liang Chu propped himself up and shifted to the side, refusing to look at him.
Xie Shenxing crouched by the bed, gazing at him gently. “Would you like something to eat?”
Liang Chu’s mouth watered, but he stayed silent, glaring at the bedside table as if to say, I find it more appealing than you.
The man sighed, then sat on the bed to serve as a backrest. Liang Chu lay across his lap but found it uncomfortable without enough padding. Xie Shenxing, noticing his slight frown, understood immediately. Worried that moving around might aggravate his injuries, he held Liang Chu’s back with one hand and reached for a soft pillow to cushion him. Once Liang Chu adjusted to a comfortable position, he finally settled down.
The room was warm, and Liang Chu found himself lost in thought, pondering why humans even had buttocks. Xie Shenxing gently stroked his back in a soothing rhythm, calming his emotions. After a while, he asked softly, “Are you uncomfortable?”
Liang Chu glanced up at him, then looked away. He looks so smart. Why does he keep asking such stupid questions? He wasn’t made of iron; how could he not be uncomfortable after being tossed around all night? It wasn’t just his body that ached—his spirit felt bruised, too. Besides, if Xie Shenxing really wanted him to eat, why not just bring the bowl over? If he had, Liang Chu would have eaten. Asking if he wanted to eat without even offering food felt hypocritical. And right now, while he was still upset, how could he possibly say yes?
Xie Shenxing leaned down and kissed his back, his fingers creeping along the edge of Liang Chu’s shorts, trying to slip inside. Liang Chu immediately shot him an annoyed look, reached back, and grabbed his shorts, refusing to let him move.
Xie Shenxing paused his movements, not daring to provoke him further. He softened his voice and reassured him, “I won’t touch you. I just want to check your wound. I won’t make it hurt.”
Liang Chu remained unmoved, tugging his pants upward. Xie Shenxing had no choice but to let go, his voice low and pleasant as he admitted, “It’s my fault. I was wrong. I was a jerk. Yesterday, Keke already said it was enough, but I didn’t listen and kept bullying him. That was really too much.”
Liang Chu’s ears perked up, and he felt somewhat satisfied inside. That’s right, keep going.
Seeing Liang Chu’s grip on his pants unconsciously loosen, Xie Shenxing breathed a small sigh of relief. He gently stroked his back over and over, as if soothing a bristling, angry little animal, and continued to confess his mistakes: “I deeply recognize my mistakes. I’ve wronged Jing Ke, and I will actively correct myself. From now on, I’ll listen to Jing Ke. Please be magnanimous, Keke, and don’t stoop to the level of a jerk like me.”
Even though Liang Chu knew Xie Shenxing’s words were a mix of truth and exaggeration, he couldn’t help but feel immensely pleased. He was someone who couldn’t resist praise. Once someone called him magnanimous, he couldn’t help but act the part. Of course, he couldn’t be petty now, or it would make him seem small, as if the praise had been misplaced.
But he held back for a moment before replying in a reluctant, overly generous tone, “Alright, then.”
He glanced up at the other person shyly, hesitating before voicing his complaint: “Now I’ll have to sleep on my stomach from now on…”
The man’s breathing grew heavy again, his eyes darkening at the pitiful yet enticing tone. The person he had longed for day and night had finally fallen into his arms, yet he could only steal a fleeting taste, unable to savor the moment fully before it slipped away. Today, he could hardly withstand even the slightest provocation—just hearing him speak was enough to stir a reaction in his body.
Liang Chu keenly noticed the unsettling presence beneath him. Propping himself up to look, his momentarily eased tension returned. That thing was what had tormented him to the brink of death yesterday. He glanced left and right, then shifted away from Xie Shenxing’s leg, trying to retreat. Xie Shenxing gently pulled him back into his embrace, pressing him close face-to-face, and calmly said, “Why run? Are you scared of it? Just ignore it. It’s a blind, senseless thing. Can’t it see our Keke isn’t feeling well today?”
Liang Chu looked at him suspiciously, studying his face carefully. Finding the man’s expression sincere, Liang Chu thought, This might be my only chance. Maybe I should take this opportunity to give it a good beating and avenge my poor bottom. But after thinking it over, he still didn’t dare. What if Xie Shenxing’s wild instincts took over again? His bottom was no match for that thing. Better not risk shooting himself in the foot.
Liang Chu turned his face away, acting aloof and pretentious as he said, “What’s that smell? It’s so fragrant.” Xie Shenxing chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek—just a fleeting, dragonfly-touch-like touch before reaching past him to pull the meal cart closer.” He played along and replied, “It’s our Keke’s food.”
Liang Chu was usually lazy, and now that he was suffering, he had even more reason not to move. Xie Shenxing thought about feeding him with a spoon, but Liang Chu unceremoniously pushed him aside and grabbed the spoon himself, shoveling food into his mouth. When it came to eating, he never let anyone else help. Even if he was weak, the sight of food gave him energy. Having someone else feed him meant having to direct them on what to eat, and that was just too troublesome. Nothing beat eating on his own terms.
Xie Shenxing watched him eat in large mouthfuls, then let out a satisfied burp before flopping onto the bed. Only after finishing his meal and wiping his mouth did he find the time and energy to complain, “There’s no meat.”
His butt was sore and numb, so Liang Chu had no desire to go anywhere. Since food and drinks were delivered right to him, he figured he might as well stay put. Lying down felt quite comfortable anyway.
Xie Shenxing often found himself staring at Liang Chu, lost in thought. He knew the boy wasn’t devoid of curiosity. After all, without that curiosity, why would he have brought him home from under the bridge? Anyone in an unfamiliar environment would instinctively want to know where they were and what their situation was. If they didn’t, it was either because they were too despondent to care or because they trusted the person they were with completely.
Xie Shenxing let out a long sigh. As a decisive man who never looked back on his choices, he now felt tangled and conflicted for the first time. Liang Chu’s obedience didn’t put him at ease. He wanted to keep him confined, afraid that if he let his guard down even for a moment, the boy would slip away. But doing so would betray the trust Liang Chu had placed in him.
Xie Shenxing felt a headache coming on. He almost wished Liang Chu would throw a tantrum instead.
A few days later, when Liang Chu could lie down and sit up again, he still chose to remain sprawled on the bed. The gopher bear had already circled the room several times, having “traveled” under the bed and into every corner twice over. It climbed up the bedsheet and suggested to Liang Chu, “Let’s go out for a walk.”
“No,” Liang Chu replied, his eyes fixed on the TV.
“Why not?” the gopher bear whined. “You’ll grow moldy lying around like this.”
“I’m pretending to be sick,” Liang Chu said mysteriously. “If I don’t, Xie Shenxing will know I’ve recovered. Pretending is exhausting, sigh.”
Even though Liang Chu worked hard to feign illness, he couldn’t keep up the act day and night. One evening, as Xie Shenxing checked his wounds while he slept, he discovered they had mostly healed. He restrained himself that night, but the next morning, the moment Liang Chu opened his eyes, his lips were sealed by the man who had been waiting impatiently. Rough, calloused hands roamed his body, setting him ablaze, and the bed rocked vigorously until noon.
Having finally indulged after days of abstinence, Xie Shenxing left for work, thoroughly satisfied. Furious, Liang Chu gathered all the pillows and carried them to the balcony to wait. A few minutes later, as Xie Shenxing strolled out below, Liang Chu pushed the pillows over the edge one by one, pelting the man below. Xie Shenxing, caught off guard by the ambush, looked up with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Liang Chu, holding the last pillow, slammed it directly into his face.
This time, Xie Shenxing didn’t keep him up all night like before. He merely took a taste. Liang Chu knew he was busy. After all, taking over such a vast family business at his age required considerable skill and capability to command respect. Still, there were always a few disrespectful old-timers looking for trouble. While they couldn’t shake the foundation, they certainly knew how to stir up nuisance. Compared to the stormy intensity of their first time, this encounter was much gentler. Liang Chu could still get out of bed afterward, though walking was a bit awkward, as if something remained lodged inside him.
Liang Chu stepped out and began to inspect the property. It was a two-story villa, with the second floor completely empty and devoid of people. Liang Chu pushed open each door, one by one, and took a quick look inside. There was a study, a walk-in closet, and a screening room. The study was lined with massive bookshelves, densely packed with books. As someone who loved books, the sight naturally lifted his spirits. Yet, Liang Chu stayed inside for only two minutes before stepping out, leaning silently against the doorframe. The bookshelves were tall, requiring a ladder to reach the higher volumes, but almost none of them held any interest for him. They were mostly obscure classics and reference books, while the more lighthearted, amusing reads—the kind that could lift one’s mood—were all placed within easy reach, right where he could see them.
Liang Chu merely glanced into the walk-in closet from the doorway before closing the door. Clothes of varying sizes, clearly belonging to two different people, hung side by side. The sight unsettled him, stirring a pang of regret for having thrown a pillow at someone earlier.
He had no desire to linger over the study or the clothes. Passing by the screening room, he didn’t bother to enter. But the room to his left was hard to ignore. It was a large, open space, and upon pushing the door open, he found it was a gym, filled with various exercise equipment: stationary bikes, treadmills, and strength-training machines, all in duplicate sets. Even the dumbbells were arranged in pairs of different sizes. Xie Shenxing was a practical man, not one for extravagance, and besides, he no longer had any use for such basic facilities.