Shen Qi possessed immense strength and explosive muscular power in his arms. Just moments ago, Lin Ruohuai had leaned back so forcefully that the veins in his neck were bulging, yet Shen Qi had scooped him up with effortless ease; Lin didn’t have an ounce of strength to resist.
That arm, which exerted an almost explosive sense of pressure, lingered for a few seconds before Shen Qi released his grip after speaking.
The skin he had touched flared with heat, and the sensitivity left Lin Ruohuai feeling incredibly uneasy. Shen Qi’s body temperature was slightly higher than average; Lin felt as if he were about to be melted by the heat.
The room was blurred by the soft glow of a night light, which cast shadows over Shen Qi’s brow and eyes, making his voice sound deep: “Scared out of your wits?”
Lin Ruohuai slowly arched his back and sat up on the bed. The quilt slid off his body. This thirty-thousand-dollar paycheck was certainly not easy to earn; being a caregiver was truly pathetic—twenty-four-hour close-contact care.
The air was sultry, and he felt as though he were soaked in water. His loungewear clung to his skin, damp and stifling. He stared straight at Shen Qi: “Mr. Shen, look at this, I’m covered in sweat. Can I change my clothes before we go out? Five minutes, I’ll be very quick.”
Shen Qi didn’t look like he was in a hurry. He turned his wheelchair to face him: “Are you very self-conscious around me?”
Lin Ruohuai said miserably, “Mr. Shen, I’m gay. It’s probably not great for you to see me naked.”
It sounded like a valid point.
Shen Qi thought to himself: Had he ever told anyone else he was gay? Not at all.
So, Lin Ruohuai had already categorized him as one of his own. His intentions toward Shen Qi were becoming glaringly obvious.
Shen Qi didn’t play by the rules. He maneuvered his wheelchair toward the door: “Mr. Lin, I find it necessary to clarify that I am not like the rest of you.”
Lin Ruohuai, who was already prepared to unbuckle his belt, looked blankly at the back of Shen Qi’s head: “…Aren’t we all just human?”
“…” Shen Qi turned slightly and saw that Lin had already taken off his shirt. His skin was so fine it seemed to glow. Shen Qi frowned slightly. “I do not like men.”
“Ah…” Lin Ruohuai looked utterly stunned, as if he couldn’t believe that in this BL novel, there was actually a handsome guy who wasn’t gay. Had the author actually spared this disabled hunk?
Lin Ruohuai couldn’t hold back: “Then why did you tell me to behave yourself the other day?”
Shen Qi: “I’m not gay. You are.”
Lin Ruohuai felt ashamed for a few seconds. “I’m really going to take off my pants now. Do you still want to watch?”
A moment later, Lin Ruohuai muttered amidst the rustling of fabric: “If you’re straight, I guess it shouldn’t matter…”
With a thump, Shen Qi had already left the room and closed the door behind him.
Lin Ruohuai breathed a sigh of relief. His half-removed pants hung loosely at his hip bones, revealing the faint lines of his abdominal muscles extending downward, looking somewhat sexy.
He went to wash his face with cold water to wake up. Drowsiness swept over him as he changed clothes with drooping eyelids. Looking up, he saw the moon hanging high in the night sky outside the balcony.
Lin Ruohuai muttered fiercely: “The moon is so annoying!”
Coming out and seeing Shen Qi by the corridor not far away, Lin Ruohuai instinctively put on a smile: “Mr. Shen, I’m ready. Where are we going for our stroll?”
The corridor’s night lights gave Shen Qi’s back and wheelchair a cinematic, gelatinous texture. He was looking into the distance, his features handsome and sharp, shoulders broad. Hanging plants by the wall dangled green leaves that brushed against his head.
Only the wheelchair was a source of regret.
Lin Ruohuai walked over and tried to tuck the green leaves away, but failed; they insisted on dangling over Shen Qi’s head.
Shen Qi glanced at him: “You’re wearing that?”
“Is there a problem?”
What was wrong with loungewear? It would be convenient to just flop onto the bed and sleep after the walk.
Just as he finished grumbling in his head, Lin Ruohuai remembered the old butler’s instructions: no matter when or where, he had to be dressed properly in front of the Young Master, because the Young Master had unique aesthetic tastes and was exceptionally picky.
That was why there were no uniforms, only luxury items. Lin Ruohuai felt the clothes provided for him in the closet were quite beautiful; the old butler truly had good taste.
“Mr. Shen, I’m terribly sorry. I’ll go back and change.”
Ten minutes later, a refreshed Lin Ruohuai stood before Shen Qi, showing off his outfit. His dark eyes were bright as he asked if this was acceptable.
The hem of his shirt featured a blue tie-dye pattern; one side was tucked into his waistband while the collar was open, revealing delicate collarbones. His light-colored, draped trousers made him look tall, clean, and elegant.
Shen Qi’s eyes flickered. Lin had actually chosen a color that matched the knit sweater Shen Qi was wearing.
It was hard not to think that Lin was putting a lot of heart into this.
Shen Qi’s gaze lingered on the pale expanse of Lin’s collarbones: “Something is missing.”
Lin Ruohuai instinctively touched his neck. His long fingers brushed against his Adam’s apple: “Then I’ll go back and grab a necklace.”
Shen Qi actually smiled slightly: “It’s a hassle to go back and forth. Don’t bother.”
Mr. Shen, Boss Shen, Shen Qingyi’s big brother, you’ve been bothering me for a long time now.
Lin Ruohuai gave an easy smile: “To make Mr. Shen happy, what does a little trouble matter? It’s just a necklace; I’ll be quick.”
Shen Qi didn’t stop him, watching his back as he ran off and then back again. He now wore a star-diamond collarbone chain that rested in the center, looking just as radiant as his smile.
No one would go to such lengths for a mere thirty thousand dollars. Lin Ruohuai was the first.
Lin Ruohuai, dressed beautifully, pushed the wheelchair like he was leading a stubborn ox. Shen Qi didn’t specify a destination, just saying “anywhere.”
The corridors of the manor were highly artistic. On his first night, Lin Ruohuai had been spooked by the portraits in the oil paintings, but with Shen Qi accompanying him, they just felt like inanimate objects. He simply didn’t have the artistic cells to appreciate them and couldn’t stop yawning along the way.
Shen Qi raised an eyebrow, his voice extremely low: “Sleepy?”
Lin Ruohuai hesitated on whether to lie: “I’m okay, not that sleepy.”
“Your mouth was open that wide, and you say you’re not sleepy?” Shen Qi turned his head. The material of the nearby wall reflected their figures clearly.
“…”
Before Lin Ruohuai could complain internally, he heard Shen Qi say: “Then let’s go rest. To the third floor.”
Lin Ruohuai’s excitement was instantly replaced by confusion. The third floor was for entertainment; what kind of “rest” was there?
A deathly silence followed. The night lights were voice-activated and dimmed at that moment. Just as Lin Ruohuai was about to stomp his foot, Shen Qi suddenly asked: “Do you want to run?”
The lights brightened again, illuminating Shen Qi’s deep, swirling eyes.
Lin Ruohuai sometimes couldn’t grasp his temper. He could only conclude that wealthy people with illnesses were somewhat mentally incomplete. He explained gently: “No, let’s go then. It’s just that I don’t really know the way.”
And for some reason, he felt as though Shen Qi was suppressing a fire. Though he looked cold and clean, his presence was overwhelming, as if he were hiding some malicious intent that was hard to handle.
Under Shen Qi’s guidance, Lin Ruohuai arrived at a set of double doors. After entering the code, he discovered it was a cinema.
It had a large screen and spacious seating for dozens of people. The front row consisted of recliner sofas.
Lin Ruohuai operated the remote: “What are we watching?”
Shen Qi steered his wheelchair closer: “Pick anything. All the films are available.”
“Anything?” Lin Ruohuai had almost never been to a cinema. The last time was an anti-drug film organized by his university, which was very atmospheric.
And embarrassingly, he was even afraid of anti-drug films, spending the whole time with a brow so furrowed it could crush a mosquito.
The categories here were represented by symbols. Lin Ruohuai curiously clicked on a pink heart icon, and the images that popped up were truly heart-pounding.
Shen Qi looked him over from head to toe and said nonchalantly: “I don’t mind.”
“I do.” Lin Ruohuai quickly backed out.
“You want to watch it?” Shen Qi said seriously. “In the heat of youth, desire is the hardest thing to control. Your nerves and muscles will be invaded by fire, leaving you unable to extricate yourself. There’s only us here, Mr. Lin.”
He made it sound so serious. Were they all gay films in there?
Lin Ruohuai: “I never watch stuff like that. Mr. Shen has misunderstood me.”
Shen Qi leaned in closer, his deep eyes calm: “You don’t watch them?”
Lin Ruohuai couldn’t look him in the eye; his ears turned red as he insisted: “I don’t.”
Because I can’t find the resources.
His gaze was shy and clean, innocent and blameless. Shen Qi turned his wheelchair and pointed randomly at a category: “Watch this one.”
Lin Ruohuai clicked on it and felt his heart turn to ash. He’d rather watch the other stuff.
“Mr. Shen, didn’t you say we were resting? This is too stimulating; it’ll scare my poor heart.” Lin Ruohuai’s voice was soft, sounding like he was pleading for mercy.
“How many horror movies are actually good nowadays? They all have a hypnotic effect.” Shen Qi patted the seat: “Come, help me onto the chair.”
Reluctantly, Lin Ruohuai started one. The black and red lighting effects flickered across his fair face.
“I’m thirsty, Mr. Shen.”
Shen Qi pointed in one direction: “There’s a water dispenser. It’s cleaned daily, feel free to drink.”
“…”
The cinema was too large. Lin Ruohuai had to pump himself up just to walk over there. He poured two cups of cola and brought them back, holding them as the cool condensation wetted his palms.
The movie started by building a terrifying atmosphere. It was very quiet with no ghosts, just one person. There was no one on either side of Lin Ruohuai, and he didn’t dare lean against Shen Qi. He couldn’t sit still, scurrying around holding the two cups of cola, taking large gulps and crunching loudly on ice cubes.
“Oh my god, this is so scary.”
“Wow, what is that? There’s nothing there. What is the protagonist looking at? Can the camera move away, please?”
“Hahaha, this is great, isn’t it, Mr. Shen?”
“How long is this movie? Holy crap, two hours? Is laundering money really this hard?”
“…”
Shen Qi glanced at him. Lin Ruohuai hadn’t looked at the screen for a single second. He used the two drinks to cover his face, his mouth running with nonsense.
Seeing that the boy’s hair was practically standing on end, Shen Qi—who was not in his wheelchair and had limited mobility—said: “Lin Ruohuai, come sit by me.”
The little coward became honest, sitting obediently by Shen Qi, feeling Shen Qi’s aura intensify and secretly drawing from it to bolster his own courage.
Even though Lin Ruohuai wasn’t looking at the screen, the sound effects were particularly piercing—ghostly whispers one moment, and a sudden, ear-splitting scream the next. Who could take that?
Lin Ruohuai didn’t want to leave the room alone; right now, Shen Qi’s side was the only safe place. However: “I need to go to the bathroom.”
His wrist was suddenly pressed down firmly. Lin Ruohuai saw that large hand—much thicker than his own—grabbing him. He looked confused.
“Is it urgent?” Shen Qi pulled him closer.
Lin Ruohuai pressed his lower abdomen and couldn’t help but squeeze his legs together: “It’s urgent. I drank too much cola.”
Shen Qi suddenly let go: “Then go.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Lin Ruohuai saw something indescribable rush out of the screen. The protagonist reached under the bed and touched a dead face with bulging eyes.
“AAAH—” Lin Ruohuai plunged his head onto Shen Qi’s lap, clutching his head and burrowing inward.
Shen Qi was caught off guard, letting out a muffled, suppressed groan from the impact.