That night, Chu Ci was dragged home by Han Yue while the gathering was still going on.
Hou Hongchang looked a bit sullen as he said to Hou Yu, “Second Young Master Han isn’t being very considerate. I hadn’t even won back my losses yet and he already took his little lover away.”
Hou Yu was playing cards with Cheng Xurong and didn’t even raise his head. “That’s him being jealous. Han Er has been forcing himself on the guy for over a year now—using both soft and hard tactics—but the man hasn’t even given him a single smile. Who knew that as soon as he saw you, he’d come over on his own to chat and play cards with you.”
Hou Hongchang was shocked. “Doesn’t that mean Han Er hates me now?”
Pei Zhi turned his head, patted him with a smile, and said, “Stop worrying over nothing. That little lover of his is polite to everyone except Han Er. —No wonder, with Han Er’s explosive temper. Tsk tsk.”
Han Yue shoved Chu Ci into the passenger seat, slammed the door shut with a bang, then got in himself and started the engine.
Chu Ci stared silently out the car window at the road. Neon lights flashed across the night sky. Restaurants and bars along the street were bustling with people. Young couples walked arm in arm, children’s balloons floated in the air — a scene of prosperity and glamour.
Chu Ci watched them in a daze, as if infected by the lively atmosphere. A faint trace of loneliness unknowingly seeped into his eyes.
Han Yue said nothing. He quickly shifted gears, overtook cars, and sped through intersections against the lights. The twenty-minute journey was cut down to ten. The moment the car stopped in the residential garage, he grabbed Chu Ci and roughly dragged him out through the driver’s side door.
Han Yue’s grip was no joke — he could pick up thirty kilograms of wood and run a marathon with it. Crushing someone’s bones would be child’s play. Chu Ci stumbled and staggered as he was dragged all the way into the elevator. Before the doors had fully closed, Han Yue slammed him against the wall and kissed him roughly and directly.
Chu Ci closed his eyes, his brows tightly furrowed. His lips were bitten until they hurt, and the tip of his tongue was broken, filling his mouth with a strong metallic taste of blood. This taste greatly pleased Han Yue. He gripped Chu Ci’s chin hard, forcing his mouth open, and swept his tongue through it, sucking aggressively. The force was so strong that Chu Ci’s tongue throbbed with pain.
Han Yue had never cared about kissing technique. What he liked was straightforward, raw action. He always acted on the most direct and intense desires. However, the first time he kissed Chu Ci, an electric-like stimulation and satisfaction surged from the depths of his bones. It stimulated not only his body but also his heart enormously.
Han Yue thought: So this is what kissing someone feels like! No wonder the first step in dating is always a kiss!
The elevator dinged as it stopped. Han Yue hoisted Chu Ci onto his shoulder with one arm, holding him in place, while his other hand entered the fingerprint lock. This wasn’t Chu Ci’s rented three-bedroom apartment — it was a luxury apartment Han Yue used when he returned to Beijing on leave. He particularly liked the decor here. He had once wanted to bring Chu Ci to live here, but every time he returned to the army, Chu Ci would immediately move out. Han Yue couldn’t very well imprison him, so he had no choice but to drop the idea.
“You fucking like that kid Hou Hongchang, don’t you?” Han Yue couldn’t even wait until they reached the bedroom. As soon as they entered the door, he pinned Chu Ci against the wall and started tearing at his clothes, his eyes burning red. “That pretty boy can’t do anything except dress up like a peacock. If you fall for him, you’re a fucking idiot, I’m telling you!”
Chu Ci frowned, his expression carrying a cold disgust. “I don’t.”
“Then why did you go talk to him? And play cards? Who gave you permission?”
Chu Ci tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and remained silent.
Han Yue hated when he did this. It was as if closing his eyes isolated him from the world, instantly widening the intimate distance between them.
He wanted to know what Chu Ci was thinking. No matter how physically close they were, it wasn’t enough — he wanted to be even closer. But every time he tried, Chu Ci would silently and firmly push him away.
Han Yue pinned him against the wall, thrust his fingers in and stirred a few times. When he felt it was enough, he pulled them out and shoved his painfully hard length inside. He had already been hard while driving, wanting countless times to pull over and pin Chu Ci down in the back seat to fuck him senseless. He was so desperate to reaffirm his ownership that his heart trembled faintly with urgency.
“I really fucking regret bringing you out in front of people,” Han Yue panted heavily while thrusting fiercely. “I shouldn’t have let my temper get the better of me and let them all see you.”
Chu Ci felt as if a burning hot, hard wedge had been driven into his body. Every thrust brought sharp pain that made him tremble, but he couldn’t break free at all — he didn’t even have the strength to move a finger.
Han Yue gripped Chu Ci’s wrists and pressed them against the cold wall. The sensation of being tightly wrapped and sucked by the scorching, velvety inner walls was so intoxicating that it drove him wild. He kissed Chu Ci’s brow, the corner of his lips, and his neck forcefully. His movements were simple and brutal; every thrust went deep to the hilt, as if he wanted to pierce through Chu Ci’s body.
When he felt he was about to come, he sped up. Unable to control himself, he left a deep bite mark on the side of Chu Ci’s neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood. Han Yue let out a hoarse, low roar and shot everything deep inside Chu Ci’s body before letting out a satisfied sigh.
Chu Ci lay motionless, as if his consciousness had grown hazy. His gaze was unfocused and vacant.
Han Yue had only managed to pull off most of Chu Ci’s top in his haste. The shirt hung from one shoulder, twisted around his wrists. The exposed skin was covered in bruises and bite marks, glistening with saliva under the light in a faintly obscene sheen.
Han Yue carried him to the bed in the bedroom, then went to the bathroom to wring out a warm towel, wanting to wipe Chu Ci’s sweat-drenched face.
But when he returned to the bedside, Chu Ci had already opened his eyes and was staring blankly at the ceiling.
On the drive back, Han Yue had been extremely irritable. The intense release earlier had calmed him considerably and even stirred something that could be called “tenderness.” However, the moment he saw Chu Ci’s empty eyes now, an indescribable discomfort rose in his chest.
It felt as if a thin iron hoop was tightly wound around his heart, bringing a faintly suffocating chill.
Han Yue sat on the edge of the bed. As he raised the towel, Chu Ci turned his face away, avoiding it.
Men usually didn’t get angry at times like this. Han Yue patiently set the towel down and asked, “Do you want some water?”
Chu Ci didn’t answer.
“Or do you want to sleep?”
Han Yue didn’t want to sleep. If Chu Ci wasn’t planning to sleep either, he could go a few more rounds — no problem lasting until tomorrow.
The room fell silent for a long while. Only the clear chirping of night insects from the residential water feature outside could be heard. After waiting a long time, he finally heard Chu Ci ask softly:
“Han Yue, forcing me like this… aren’t you afraid I’ll stab you to death and then kill myself?”
Han Yue was stunned for a moment, then snorted with a laugh and countered, “You think you can kill me?”
Chu Ci turned away without a word, curled up, and wrapped himself tightly in the silk quilt. He seemed extremely afraid of the cold, huddling into a tight ball.
Watching him like this, Han Yue felt a strange softness in his heart for some reason. He turned off the light, sat on the bed, and hugged Chu Ci from behind. In a low voice he said, “If you just obey me a little, I’ll treat you very well. In this lifetime, I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”
Chu Ci asked softly, “Why didn’t you die sooner?”
“…If I died, you’d go to someone else.” Han Yue adjusted his position and hugged Chu Ci — quilt and all — even tighter. “So I won’t die before you.”
The next morning, Han Yue called in sick for Chu Ci.
It wasn’t really asking for leave. He simply called a high-level leader at the research institute group and subtly mentioned that Engineer Chu had been hit by some manager in public. Now he was feeling unwell and lying at home, unable to get up. The leader immediately understood and apologized profusely, expressing sincere concern. He even insisted on personally bringing gifts to visit this national senior intellectual who had suffered unfair treatment.
Han Yue naturally declined the suggestion. Chu Ci couldn’t get up because he had been fucked relentlessly all night. As for the punch he took yesterday, it had stopped hurting long ago. If the leader came over, he might even catch a glimpse of a beauty sleeping after a night of passion.
Han Yue had just returned from the army and maintained very strict routines. No matter how late he stayed up, he would get up on time the next morning to drink tea, read the newspaper, and make breakfast. The kitchen was fully stocked with fresh, unopened ingredients. He fried two eggs with crispy edges, stacked them thickly with bacon and bread, added rich, fragrant sauce, and made a simple salad with a few leaves. His movements were efficient. In just over ten minutes, everything was ready. He tidied the kitchen a bit and brought breakfast to Chu Ci.
As soon as he pushed open the bedroom door, he saw that Chu Ci had already gotten up and was standing in front of the bedside table taking medicine.
There was no medicine box on the table — only a blister pack of white pills. From the appearance, it was impossible to tell what kind of medicine it was. Han Yue had never known Chu Ci needed medication. He paused and asked, “What is that?”
“Roxithromycin.”
“Why are you taking medicine?”
“I have a slight fever.”
Chu Ci bent down somewhat stiffly and picked up the shirt Han Yue had casually thrown on the floor the previous night. Just as he was about to put it on, Han Yue snatched it away and tossed it aside.
“Where do you think you’re going? Eat breakfast and go back to sleep. Let me see who dares to make you go to work.”
Chu Ci braced himself on the bedside cabinet. He paused in that posture for a moment before slowly standing up.
He couldn’t explain this to someone like Han Yue. No one had ever forced him to do his chemical analysis job; working a normal nine-to-five job was entirely his own choice. He needed that job to maintain his last shred of financial independence under Han Yue’s dominance—to preserve the right to live like a normal person, and to keep what little interest and motivation he still had in life. Without it, his life would lose its last trace of structure and anticipation.
Han Yue touched his forehead.
“You do have a bit of a fever. Eat something first. I’ll call a doctor.”
“No doctor!”
Han Yue froze slightly. He remembered that Chu Ci had always refused to see any doctors connected to the Han family, enduring issues on his own and only going to hospitals privately afterward.
“…I want to sleep,” Chu Ci said quickly, noticing Han Yue’s expression shift. Afraid he would forcibly call a doctor, he added, “I’ve been tired these past two days. If I sleep and sweat it out, it’ll be fine. If the fever hasn’t gone down by the afternoon, I’ll go to the hospital.”
Han Yue watched as he lay back down, turning away and wrapping himself tightly in the blanket—again that closed-off posture from last night.
The subtle rejection irritated him. He almost wanted to tear the blanket away and call a doctor regardless of Chu Ci’s wishes.
But in the end, he held himself back, placed the breakfast down, and said in a low voice, “I’ll leave it here. Heat it up when you wake up.”
Chu Ci gave no response, as if he had already fallen asleep.
Han Yue left the room and slammed the door shut.
“Institutional External Hospital – Surgeon’s Office”
Doctor Ren Jiayun sat behind his desk, holding a pale yellow blister pack with a strange expression.
“Where did you get this from? Don’t tell me Hou Yu and Pei Zhi were messing around again…”
Han Yue, sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, cut him off immediately.
“Just analyze what this drug is and what it treats. There’s no manufacturer label on it at all.”
Ren Jiayun had no choice but to send it to the pharmacology lab and specifically instructed them to report back discreetly.
A short while later, he returned looking annoyed.
“They recognized it immediately. It’s just paroxetine hydrochloride.”
Han Yue, who rarely took any medication in his life, had never heard of it.
“What does it treat? Fever and colds?”
“Not even remotely. Paroxetine is used for depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and social anxiety. We prescribe it for mild depression cases, usually one pill after breakfast. Where did you even get this from?”
“…My partner is taking it,” Han Yue said flatly. “He told me it was roxithromycin.”
Ren Jiayun reacted just like Hou Yu had.
“Huh? You have a partner in Beijing?”
Seeing Han Yue’s expression, he quickly coughed. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Han Yue ignored him.
“Does taking this mean he has depression?”
“It depends on severity. Most modern people have some level of anxiety or depression…” Ren Jiayun hesitated. “What’s his personality like?”
“He’s fine. Just doesn’t talk much.”
“Being quiet is a common symptom of depression,” Ren Jiayun said immediately. Then he muttered, “Honestly, with your temper, even if he had severe depression you probably wouldn’t notice.”
Han Yue’s expression darkened.
“I don’t hit him.”
“You saying that casually is already scary enough.”
Han Yue’s tone turned rough.
“He’s just stubborn. I’ve tried everything. He’s still cold and distant. I’m out of options. If he keeps this up, I’ll just lock him up at home until he softens.”
Ren Jiayunnearly choked.
“Don’t, don’t—!”
At that moment he fully understood the situation: this “partner” was probably being forced into emotional distress.
He tried carefully, “If you really want this to last, you should ease up a bit. You can’t just keep pressuring people.”
Han Yue dismissed it irritably.
“My father has a bad temper too. My mother stayed with him her whole life.”
Ren Jiayun stared at him in shock.
“You want this partner to stay with you for life?”
Han Yue paused, then casually said, “Fine. I’ll bring him in for a check-up sometime. Arrange a proper psychologist.”
Ren Jiayun was still stunned.
“…Hey! You have to bring him in!”
As Han Yue walked out, he didn’t look back.
“Depression can lead to suicide if it gets serious!” Ren Jiayun shouted after him.
Han Yue waved without turning around.
Ren Jiayun stood there, exasperated.
“…He didn’t take a single word seriously at all.”