Shu Ci was very popular—anyone would like someone so pretty, and most of the letters he received were from boys.
During middle school, he and Lu Xianyan tacitly blocked most other admirers, but he never expected that the most ambitious “wolf” would turn out to be his own brother.
He had assumed Lu Xianyan didn’t care much about him. After all, when Shu Ci transferred schools, he was the only one desperately trying to contact him; Lu Xianyan didn’t even have Shu Ci’s WeChat, and life went on normally.
What the…?
Zhou Mingran, feeling regret over the pretty little bunny being taken by a wolf, exclaimed: “He can’t be only visible to you, right? Just to live with you? What the hell—”
Suddenly, Zhou Mingran felt he didn’t recognize his own brother.
Shu Ci froze, but quickly dismissed it.
The main reason he lived with Lu Xianyan was still for symptom treatment.
Yet he had noticed something, hesitated, and finally asked Zhou Mingran: “If I kissed you, hugged you every day, sat on you, would you like me?”
Every word felt like an explosion to Zhou Mingran. His pupils shrank, and he stammered: “You… you… you want to kiss me?!”
Shu Ci remained calm: “I mean, if.”
“Even ‘if’ won’t do! We’ve known each other so long; don’t you know I’m straight?!”
Shu Ci pondered, “Oh,” but before he could say more, Zhou Mingran added: “If it’s you… maybe I would.”
“Men are easily influenced, especially by good things.”
Seeing Shu Ci’s downcast face, Zhou Mingran anxiously asked again: “But who did you kiss? Who did you sit on? Did Fu Zhiheng contact you? Send that message? Don’t be fooled—he says he’s straight, but keeps putting himself on you every day. Who knows what he’s thinking secretly?”
Shu Ci didn’t listen, replying perfunctorily.
He was lost in his own thoughts.
It seemed his earlier worries were correct—Lu Xianyan, originally straight, was influenced by the close physical contact during treatment, which he mistook for affection.
Shu Ci felt that affection was precious, especially for someone as silent and pure as Lu Xianyan.
He didn’t want to influence him.
After all, after this period of treatment, his symptoms had reduced to about two to three times a week, which he could manage on his own.
No need to trouble Lu Xianyan anymore.
Shu Ci thought this, but when drafting a message, he felt awkward—he didn’t want to make Lu Xianyan feel like someone he could summon at will and dismiss.
In the end, Shu Ci decided to talk face-to-face, showing he valued him.
That evening, however, Lu Xianyan returned with a severe bruise on his face.
Shu Ci panicked and immediately asked what happened.
Lu Xianyan said he accidentally bumped into something while moving things.
It looked serious; one corner of the bruise was broken. Yet even so, Lu Xianyan didn’t complain, instead offering to help remove Shu Ci’s treatment device.
Shu Ci naturally didn’t insist.
As usual, he was lifted onto Lu Xianyan’s warm body, leaving a faint bite mark on his neck—a comforting, satisfying feeling.
Shu Ci couldn’t bear to give up such a compatible treatment partner.
He thought to himself: wait until Lu Xianyan healed before bringing it up.
Later, Shu Ci was jostled in a crowd, staggering several steps before Fu Zhiheng steadied him from the front. He tilted his head, showing his flushed face: “Thanks.”
…So beautiful today.
Fu Zhiheng looked away, giving a faint “oh.”
A few seconds later, he suddenly asked: “You… smell good?”
Shu Ci, puzzled, sniffed himself honestly: “Probably from laundry.”
Couldn’t he smell it?
Fu Zhiheng didn’t ask further but bent down subtly to sniff the pale neck.
The scent was faint, only noticeable up close, carrying a fruity fragrance. Mixed with his skin, it became a uniquely intoxicating aroma.
Addictive.
Not sure if other men smelled this closely every day.
Fu Zhiheng hadn’t contacted Shu Ci recently but could see his posted Moments. Shu Ci often shared photos—not of himself—sometimes potted plants on stage, sometimes stray cats napping in the neighborhood.
Fu Zhiheng, bored, couldn’t help but scrutinize them. Finally, he spotted a wristwatch on an adult male in one picture.
Looks like they really were living together.
Fu Zhiheng’s mouth twitched faintly, thinking it was none of his business. The man chose to be with that restless guy; if his lips got kissed, or more, it wasn’t anyone else’s fault.
As he thought this, his gaze inevitably landed on Shu Ci.
Anyone close to Shu Ci would unconsciously look, maybe experience it all.
His eyes were too direct, and Shu Ci noticed. When their glassy, beautiful eyes met, Fu Zhiheng felt a shiver—blood rising through his bones.
The two sat at the front. When Fu Zhiheng returned with drinks, Shu Ci didn’t even look at him, focused on messaging someone else.
Side-lit by the soft lighting, his expression was intent, shoulders raised slightly—looking very kissable.
Seeing Shu Ci texting someone else irritated Fu Zhiheng inexplicably. He snorted: “So dating means no freedom? Not even with a straight guy?”
Shu Ci froze—why did Fu Zhiheng assume he was dating Lu Xianyan?
Was it obvious?
Well, earlier today, he seemed to report back to Lu Xianyan himself.
Lu Xianyan had even messaged, saying he would wait at home.
…It did sound like dating.
Shu Ci panicked.
Treatment not only affected Lu Xianyan but also himself.
In his own confused state, he became dependent on the other.
Dependency was a scary thing.
Shu Ci had once been clingy as a child, but after transferring schools, he was often alone. He knew that people were fleeting—no one would wait forever.
Friends, lovers, family—all the same.
He stared blankly at the chat with Lu Xianyan.
In less than two hours, the conversation had been full and… overly intimate.
Fu Zhiheng felt ignored.
He saw that Shu Ci was completely love-struck, his thoughts entirely consumed by the other.