Without changing his expression, Yao Zhen leaned in, resting a hand on Liang Jiming’s shoulder. He stared into his eyes and whispered, “You just woke up, and you can’t get water on your forehead. Are you sure you want to shower? I’m worried you’ll faint in the bathroom. Fine then, I’ll wash with you. Be a good boy and take your clothes off.”
They were so close that Liang Jiming could almost feel the heat of his breath. His gaze landed on the face inches away from his.
This young master was indeed exceptionally handsome, especially his eyes. They were classic “peach blossom” eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, with a light dancing in them that looked like worry but was actually mischief. There was a small mole on his left cheekbone that made him look particularly vivid and cunning.
Yet, Liang Jiming was not bewitched. Or rather, while he appreciated the face from an aesthetic standpoint, he felt zero emotional stirrings. He still didn’t quite believe the “lovers” story; his words just now had been a casual test.
“No need,” he said after a moment, backing away. “I can wash myself.”
Yao Zhen watched him enter the bathroom. Once the door closed, he broke into a smug grin. Just you wait. This young master is going to play with you slowly.
By the time Liang Jiming finished his shower, Yao Zhen had already ordered dinner. He stood at the far end of the dining area and called out in a lingering drawl, “Baby, come eat.”
Liang Jiming ignored him. He looked around the suite, walked toward the living room balcony, and pushed the door open to look outside.
In front was a stretch of beach, and further out was the endless sea. The wind was still howling, pushing waves to crash against the shore. The air was thick with the salty, sticky smell of the ocean.
Liang Jiming stared at the scene. Occasional fragments flashed in his mind—all shocking, broken images of the yacht hitting the rocks. When he tried to think deeper, there was only a blank space and a dull ache in his nerves.
A complaining voice sounded from behind: “The wind is so strong, why are you standing here? Doesn’t your head hurt from the breeze?”
Liang Jiming looked down, turned back into the living room, and pulled the glass door shut.
Yao Zhen stood nearby, looking at him with feigned concern. Liang Jiming looked back, his gaze pausing for a moment. He reached out and lightly brushed the mole on Yao Zhen’s cheek.
Yao Zhen froze, instinctively flinching away in disgust.
Liang Jiming’s finger paused. “Why are you evading?”
Yao Zhen frowned. “Why are you touching me?”
“I can’t?” Liang Jiming asked composedly. “In a relationship like ours, is it a crime to touch you?”
Crime my ass, I want to bash your head in.
The young master thought to himself, but said angrily, “No! You don’t remember anything and you don’t even want to admit we’re together. Why should I let you touch me?”
Liang Jiming withdrew his hand. Fine, no touching then.
Liang Jiming sipped his soup and asked, “What is my full name, and what do I do? What is this place? And where are my identification documents?”
Yao Zhen made up a story on the fly: “Liang Daming. You were originally my bodyguard. We fell for each other, but my dad found out, kicked me out of the house, and exiled me here. This is Feijing Island in Southeast Asia. You had your passport on you when you went out yesterday, so it probably fell into the sea. You can’t get a replacement here; we’ll deal with it later.”
After saying this, he looked displeased: “Why are you asking all this? Are you thinking of abandoning me and running away?”
“…” Liang Jiming was silent for a moment before saying, “No.”
Yao Zhen huffed, “You better not. I gave up my status as a ten-billion-dollar young master for you—I walked away from a massive family inheritance. If you dare to abandon me, I’ll break your legs.”
Liang Jiming was at a loss for words. The sentence “You can go back” was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back down.
The typhoon had come suddenly and left just as quickly. Once the rain stopped, the wind gradually weakened.
The next morning, Yao Zhen had Xiao Wei arrange a car to take Liang Jiming to the island’s hospital for a detailed check-up.
“If anything happens to you, wouldn’t I become a widower?” Yao Zhen started talking nonsense the moment they got into the car. “I can’t have given up everything for you only to end up with no money and no man. Losing both the person and the wealth—how tragic would that be for me?”
Liang Jiming seemed to have become immune to these absurdities. He kept his eyes lowered and remained silent, his fingertips rubbing the ring.
Last night, after returning to his room, he had specifically tried the ring on. The size was a good fit, but the sensation of wearing it felt completely foreign; there wasn’t even a faint ring mark on his finger.
It was hard to convince him based solely on this object and one blurry photograph.
Once Yao Zhen finished his rant, Liang Jiming finally spoke: “You’re not wearing your ring again today?”
Yao Zhen answered bossily, “I haven’t forgiven you yet, so why should I wear the ring?”
Liang Jiming followed his logic and asked, “So what do I have to do for you to forgive me?”
Yao Zhen acted like a rascal: “Only if you remember me and admit to our relationship will I forgive you.”
He wanted to frame himself as the wronged party in the relationship, perching himself on the moral high ground to accuse Liang Jiming. He planned to manipulate him psychologically and slowly erode his emotional defenses.
The young master felt he was a sheer genius.
Liang Jiming suddenly asked, “You just said… widower?”
“What of it?” Yao Zhen didn’t see anything wrong with it. “You have an issue with that?”
Liang Jiming looked back at him. His gaze traveled from Yao Zhen’s animated eyes down to his lips, lingering for a second before looking away.
Yao Zhen felt a bit baffled. What’s that supposed to mean?
It didn’t mean anything special; Liang Jiming was simply remembering what the other man had said yesterday while he had a splitting headache: “I’m your husband.”
Heh.
The resort island wasn’t large. The drive to the island’s only private hospital took only about ten minutes.
The full check-up took an hour. The scans showed no obvious abnormalities in Liang Jiming’s brain; the doctor’s explanation was that the concussion had caused abnormal neurological function.
“Generally speaking, patients lose memory fragments from a few minutes to several years prior to the accident. This condition usually recovers on its own within a few months. However, it’s quite rare to forget as completely as he has. It’s hard to say when he’ll remember. If there are no other issues like headaches or vomiting, there’s no need to worry too much.”
Yao Zhen wasn’t worried at all—as long as he didn’t die, it was fine.
Liang Jiming frowned and didn’t ask much. His memory was a complete blank; even if he wanted to ask, he wouldn’t know where to start.
In the end, the doctor only prescribed a box of medication and told him to come back for a follow-up later.
As the consultation ended, the elderly doctor remembered something and offered one more reminder.
“Damage to the hippocampus can sometimes make it difficult to form new memories. Keep a close eye on him. If he finds he can’t remember things happening now, you’ll need to bring him back for more tests.”
Yao Zhen didn’t take it to heart. This guy hadn’t forgotten what he said yesterday, so it shouldn’t be that serious.
On the way back, Yao Zhen received a call from the hotel manager reporting the losses caused by the typhoon.
Yao Zhen was impatient: “Just handle it yourself, no need to tell me. Oh, right—report a higher cost so the group approves a bigger budget.”
Since his old man had dumped him here, he’d be doing himself a disservice if he didn’t squeeze out as much money as possible.
Once the call ended, he tapped his phone screen forcefully a few times.
Liang Jiming noticed his movements out of the corner of his eye and asked, “Exiled and disowned, yet you’re still the manager of a luxury resort hotel like this?”
Yao Zhen put on a look of sorrow. “You’re doubting me again. I told you, I was originally a ten-billion-dollar heir. Ten billion—do you understand what that means? Now? How much can this shacks make in a year? Being sent here is no different from throwing a scrap to a beggar. You have no idea what I truly gave up for you.”
Liang Jiming didn’t understand, and he didn’t particularly want to. He didn’t feel like he was the “lovestruck” type, nor did he think he would fall for someone who was. If someone actually had ten billion, there were better things to do with it. Why bother with all this?
Yao Zhen turned his face away, feigning anger, and ignored him for the rest of the ride. Silence filled the car.
When they arrived back at the hotel, Yao Zhen was still sulking. Liang Jiming got out first, then leaned down to look at Yao Zhen inside the car. “Young Master, do you want me to carry you out?”
His tone was overly intimate, and so was his gaze. His eyes rested quietly on Yao Zhen’s face, no longer as overbearing as yesterday, but watching him intently—one might even say… tenderly.
Goosebumps rose one by one on Yao Zhen’s skin. His intuition told him this prick was testing him again. After a moment of stiffness, he smirked, raised his arms, and hooked them around Liang Jiming’s neck. “Sure.”
It wasn’t like a hug would make him lose a limb; if he was disgusted, he’d make sure the other guy was more disgusted.
His reaction was within Liang Jiming’s expectations. Liang Jiming pulled him in naturally, his hand sliding down Yao Zhen’s shoulder to press firmly against his back.
Being touched at a sensitive spot on his waist made Yao Zhen keep smiling, though he was practically grinding his teeth. Liang Jiming’s touch felt far too suggestive; in his mind, he was already cursing the man as everything from a beast to a turtle-bastard.
Liang Jiming acted as if he saw nothing. His other hand hooked under Yao Zhen’s legs, picking him up in a princess carry. Yao Zhen wasn’t short—standing at over 1.8 meters—but Liang Jiming was likely 1.9 meters, half a head taller. Even with his injuries, he easily carried Yao Zhen into the hotel, through the lobby, and straight to the elevator.
Xiao Wei followed them in, looking straight ahead as he quickly pressed the floor and door-close buttons. Yao Zhen felt like he was covered in lice, but not wanting to lose the battle of wits, he leaned closer to Liang Jiming and blew air against the back of his ear.
“Baby, you’re so sensitive here. Every time I lick it, you go soft.”
Xiao Wei: “…” I really shouldn’t be here.
Liang Jiming calmly tilted his head, meeting Yao Zhen’s playful eyes and holding his gaze.
Yao Zhen intentionally provoked him, whispering huskily, “Really. Want to try?”
Liang Jiming asked, “Do you forgive me now?”
Yao Zhen: “…In your dreams.”
Xiao Wei didn’t follow them into the room; he opened the door for them and made himself scarce. Liang Jiming carried Yao Zhen to the sofa but still didn’t let go.
Yao Zhen felt the joke had gone far enough. “Let me go—”
Liang Jiming looked at him. “I’m the Young Master’s bodyguard. How did I catch your eye and end up in your bed?”
Yao Zhen thought to himself, I’d have to be blind to pick you, but he smiled. “You knelt and begged for my affection. I reluctantly agreed.”
Liang Jiming let go.
Caught off guard, Yao Zhen dropped. His back hit the sofa cushions, and he winced in pain. “What was that for?”
Liang Jiming said coolly, “If your attitude toward me is just playing around, you might as well go back and inherit the family business. Continue being the ten-billion-dollar heir.”
Yao Zhen was annoyed. He’d love to go back, but he’d actually have to be able to go back.
Liang Jiming ignored him and turned to go into the guest room.
Yao Zhen: “…”
That bastard. He wouldn’t go back. Even if his old man came in person to beg him, he wouldn’t go. If he didn’t trick this jerk into falling for him and then dump him ruthlessly, he’d let himself grow roots on this island!