Right after pushing Pei Huai, the system notification rang out in his mind: [Pei Huai’s humiliation value +1, currently 1/100. Please continue your hard work, Host.]
Ci Mei’s departing footsteps paused for a fraction of a second, and a subtle sense of defeat quietly welled up in his heart.
Only +1? Whenever he watched those seniors livestreaming, points would easily jump up by double digits. From how Pei Huai had just acted, it looked pretty much identical to the reactions of protagonists after being bullied by seniors.
The system had a favorable impression of this fresh little sprout who had transferred over from the BG section, and kindly consoled him: [It might just be because Pei Huai is relatively thick-skinned.]
Come to think of it, that actually made a lot of sense.
Ci Mei instantly saw the light.
He followed the guiding servant all the way upstairs, closed the door, changed out of his soaked clothes, and flopped comfortably onto the room’s sofa.
The moment he had a free second, Ci Mei couldn’t help recalling the sensation of touching Pei Huai earlier.
It was a kind of shudder and yearning originating from the depths of his soul, not very intense, yet enough to lure him into an addictive immersion.
It really was too.
Ci Mei felt his ears grow somewhat hot.
“Big Brother Tong, why is my skin hunger effective on the protagonist Shou too?” He asked, his voice suddenly dropping an octave. “Chasing after people demanding physical contact makes me look like such a pervert.”
[It’s effective on anyone, but it’s not as strong as the one for the protagonist Gong. You’ll have to get used to it in advance.]
There was an even stronger one?
Ci Mei suddenly began to understand what the original host’s affection-brain-level enthusiasm toward the protagonist Gong was all about in the original text.
After all, if this skin hunger was already this alluring toward ordinary people, when faced with the protagonist Gong, who wouldn’t be an affection-brain.
Just as Ci Mei was thinking this, the door not far away suddenly clicked and was pushed open by someone.
Before he could look over, he heard this line: “You and Pei Huai started fighting again?”
The questioning tone behind those words was far too heavy.
Ci Mei’s eyebrows arched slightly, and he looked toward the source of the sound.
It was a man.
He possessed a typical European bone structure, belonging to the striking, heavy-featured type with slightly messy black hair, cold and fierce brows and eyes, light brown pupils, long and sharp eyes, and moist, ruddy thin lips. He also boasted a standard nine-heads-tall proportion.
The black, gold-bordered robe the man wore draped all the way down to his ankles. His black long boots made a crisp sound as they stepped on the ground, and he wore a pure black formal Western suit inside with a thin gold chain hanging across his chest. A waist-cincher belt was buckled at the second-to-last notch, leaving a short tail hanging loosely by his waist, making his body proportions look exceptionally good.
Right by the man’s side was a brief character introduction: Fethus Anvert, Protagonist Gong, the original host’s fiancé.
Ci Mei’s gaze paused.
Speak of the devil.
Fethus finally stopped a short distance away from Ci Mei, stepping back slightly during the process, as if maintaining some kind of safe distance.
Ci Mei stared steadily at Fethus, suppressing the restless urge rising in his chest.
Sitting on the sofa, he unostentatiously scooted inward, crossed his legs, tilted his head, and propped his chin on one hand: “Yes, not only did we fight, we even threw hands. What, are your feelings hurting for him?”
The youth’s gorgeous dark blue pupils collided straight with Fethus’s scrutinizing gaze, his attitude completely casual and indifferent.
[Target character Fethus’s affection -2, current affection: -27]
The man before him pressed his brow slightly, his gaze holding a hint of disappointment: “I don’t understand, what on earth are you disgusted with him for? Ci Mei, even throwing a tantrum needs to have a limit.”
Hearing this, Ci Mei raised his brows slightly: “Fethus, I am your fiancé.”
Fethus lowered his gaze and watched the gorgeous person before him for a moment, making no effort to conceal the annoyance in his eyes as he spoke quite bluntly: “Our engagement is merely a political alliance. You should have understood long ago that this means I will never belong to you, not ever.”
“Instead of figuring out how to possess me, you’d be better off scouting out some bed partners to trifle with and satisfy that disgusting desire of yours.”
Those words sounded grating to the ears. Ci Mei abruptly stood up, lowered his chin slightly to lift his gaze and meet Fethus’s eyes, suppressing his anger: “…What do you take me for?”
The man stared at him steadily for a moment, then let out a low, cold scoff: “Do you need me to repeat it again.”
Before Fethus could finish speaking, Ci Mei stepped forward a few paces and viciously raised his hand to slap him across the face. When he pulled his hand back, it couldn’t stop trembling slightly.
Ci Mei looked delicate, but his strength wasn’t small. Fethus’s head was knocked sideways from the blow, his expression turning stunned and incredulous as he turned his gaze back to Ci Mei, seemingly not expecting Ci Mei to lay a hand on him.
The person before him was breathing somewhat heavily, his brows slightly furrowed, the two cheeks of his vibrant, obedient-looking face flushed with a faint pink, and his dark blue pupils watery, as if he were infuriated to the extreme.
Fethus paused slightly, his heart feeling as though it had been scratched by something. The words on the tip of his tongue suddenly couldn’t be said, and his gaze darkened.
Meanwhile, after finishing the slap, Ci Mei instantly felt a bit of regret.
Not just because this body’s instinctive love-lust toward Fethus, which hadn’t been felt earlier due to distance, was now bursting forth all at once, but also because his action carried the potential of breaking character settings.
He came to the BL section just to earn points; if he broke his character setting and got points deducted right at the start, transferring over would lose all meaning.
Ci Mei thought this, his lips moving silently as he inched a small step toward Fethus, raising a hand to touch the faint red mark he had just slapped onto his face, attempting to remedy the situation.
However, Fethus only gave a deep look at the youth’s slightly flustered expression, stepped back a fraction, and dodged the hand Ci Mei was about to touch him with: “…Think it over properly by yourself.”
Fethus’s tone was indifferent, though if one listened closely, there was a subtle, repressed tremor to it.
With that, the man turned around as if to leave.
Ci Mei was slightly taken aback. Before he could say anything, a system notification chimed in his ear: [Target character ‘Fethus Anvert’ Masochism Value / Gratification Value +1]
Ci Mei was stunned for a split second: “…?”
System: “!”
And it had been wondering why Fethus couldn’t stand Ci Mei at all.