Gu Chengyan reined in his expression, his heavy breathing exposing a trace of his current emotions.
Yet it was only for a fleeting second. He strode into the cramped dormitory, paced a circle, and let his gaze fall upon the cloth bag in Geng Nuo’s hand and the two scattered galactic bank notes beneath the bed, roughly piecing together the situation in his mind.
“What are you crying for?” Gu Chengyan scooped up Geng Nuo’s arm and tossed him onto the bed.
Geng Nuo’s sobs were mixed with a bit of struggling; sitting on the bed, he still turned his head away.
Gu Chengyan grabbed his chin and forced it around. Geng Nuo stubbornly bit his lip, feeling that crying in front of this man was far too humiliating, yet the pitiful tear tracks on his face lacked any persuasive power, making him look exceptionally aggrieved.
“What, was your rat nest raided?” Gu Chengyan wiped a thumb beneath his eyes, instantly leaving a flushed red mark. “What a big deal.”
He suddenly grew somewhat interested. Before, even when sleeping, the boy hadn’t forgotten to ask for money; now he had actually learned to subtly weave it into the plot.
Had Pix genuinely given him professional business coaching?
No matter how dense Geng Nuo was, he could hear the utter disdain in the man’s words, and he instantly flared up in rage, his red-rimmed eyes glaring with bitter hatred at Gu Chengyan.
What do you mean, what a big deal?!
So much money! Do you have any idea what I had to endure to earn that?
His nose stung, and his tears started falling all over again. His hateful gaze lacked even half an ounce of intimidation.
“What do you mean, what a big deal? How can you call this no big deal?! They stole all the money I worked so hard to save. I even… I practically swallowed my pride and offered my body to you, an Alpha, and nearly lost my life in the process. Now I just wanted to save up a bit of cash to make a run for it!”
Overwhelmed by grief, Geng Nuo huddled miserably on the bed, hiccuping and sobbing in a way that made Gu Chengyan’s heart itch.
Curious to see how Geng Nuo would carry out the performance, he sat down at the edge of the bed and asked with perfect cooperation, “How much money was stolen?”
“A lot!” Geng Nuo wailed through his tears with loud accusations.
Out of two hundred and fifteen galactic bank notes in total, that gang had stolen a full two hundred and thirteen, leaving behind just two to mock him.
That was twenty-one thousand three hundred galactic credits, two hundred thirteen thousand luks, enough to cover his father’s medical treatments four times over!
Gu Chengyan understood. Since he hadn’t settled on a fixed amount yet, it looked like his appetite wasn’t small.
He chuckled, thoroughly unimpressed.
“How much could it possibly be?”
Geng Nuo shot him a glare, though a tear pooled in the corner of his eye took the opportunity to slip down.
Looking at him like that sent a rippling sensation through Gu Chengyan, sending a numb tingling straight to his chest. Deciding to grant him plenty of time to think, he cut straight to the next phase and asked, “Are you that short on money?”
This sentence served as a signal.
It was the slope to step down from, the pole to climb up on.
It was the exact phrase that these servers or little ducks loved the most, no matter the occasion.
The moment a customer asked this question, they could wildly exaggerate and fabricate all sorts of stories to elaborate on how tragic they were and how desperately they needed money, all to coax a shred of pity from the high-and-mighty customer and prompt them to open their wallets generously.
Yet this didn’t work just by blurting it out anywhere.
Customers frequenting the pleasure quarters were already seasoned and worldly. The cliché tropes of a gambling-addicted debtor father, a critically ill father, a frail younger brother, and the heavy burden of survival easily raised the threshold for customers to feel sympathy.
Therefore, they constantly had to upgrade and iterate with more captivating rhetoric.
For a period, instead of winning through tragedy, they won through exaggerated and bizarre imagination, making things sound logical yet absurd enough to amuse the customer and net a massive amount of tips anyway.
Back when he used to collect protection fees in the black market, an old madam used to weep to Gu Chengyan every time they drank, complaining that the moment she opened her eyes every day she had to write scripts for the little ducks under her command, losing hair by the handful, was it easy to make money, and so on… The finale was always a grand, heroic declaration that one day she would make it to the Upper City and become a brilliant screenwriter, and she’d definitely mention in interviews that Gu Chengyan was her best brother.
Then she’d ask if he could lower the rent a bit that month.
Recalling the historical evolution of the tragic backgrounds of ducks as itemized by that old madam back then, Gu Chengyan suddenly grew very curious about what kind of updated plotlines Geng Nuo was running now.
He began to understand the mindset of people who deliberately went to pleasure quarters just to listen to stories.
Just like right now, he genuinely wanted to hear what kind of novel story Geng Nuo would spin.
Geng Nuo was completely oblivious to the train of thought running through Gu Chengyan’s head. Still immersed in his own sorrow and feeling more and more that his life was plagued by misfortune, he sniffled and said with a deflated air, “My Alpha father ran off after running up a huge debt, and my Omega father fell seriously ill. I need a lot of money.”
Gu Chengyan waited for two seconds.
That’s it?
Giving Gu Chengyan a strange look, he asked, “Is there a younger brother in your family?”
“Yeah.” Geng Nuo wore a look of disbelief.
“I have two younger brothers.”
Gu Chengyan: Are you being ostracized here or something?
He mulled it over. “Did no one tell you that this kind of persona is out of style in your line of work?”
Geng Nuo didn’t understand. “Huh?”
A faint trace of disappointment welled up in Gu Chengyan’s heart.
The urge to shell out money dropped by more than half.
Instead, his gaze drifted to the suit Geng Nuo was wearing. He hadn’t seen him in this outfit before; cleaned up, it actually had a distinct charm to it.
There was a patch of dirt on the shirt, vaguely resembling the print of a shoe sole.
In a flash of insight, Gu Chengyan suddenly grew suspicious that perhaps this matter wasn’t quite what he had imagined. Reaching out, he yanked Geng Nuo’s shirt out from his waistband, intending to pull it up.
Startled by the unannounced attempt to strip him, Geng Nuo had no idea how the conversation had escalated to this point.
He blocked the man’s hands to keep him from pulling it up.
He didn’t want to do it right now.
Unfortunately, the next second, both of his wrists were firmly captured in Gu Chengyan’s single palm, leaving Geng Nuo with no choice but to kick his legs. Frowning slightly, Gu Chengyan’s voice turned sharply stern, “Don’t move, let me look.”
Look, look at what?
What else is there to look at?
He’s a customer, he came here to find him, what else would he look at or do?
A sudden wave of helplessness washed over Geng Nuo. Abandoning the struggle, he bit his lip, turned his head away, and allowed himself to be manhandled. Gu Chengyan pushed the shirt up, and his expression darkened abruptly.
A swath of red stained his waist, already showing signs of bruising.
Then, within a few seconds, Geng Nuo’s clothes were entirely stripped away. Stripped bare, he was turned over and over like a pancake by the man, burying his face into the sheets while the bedding beneath his face grew damp with a large patch of tears.
Aside from the red mark on his waist that looked as though it had been kicked, the marks everywhere else were the ones Gu Chengyan had left behind a few days prior, which were now gradually fading, save for his knees, which looked somewhat startling.
Having knelt for too long on the billiard table that day, his tender, delicate knees were bruised a deep purple, standing out in stark contrast against the neighboring skin.
Having finished his inspection, Gu Chengyan gently pressed his hand against Geng Nuo’s waist, his dark eyes growing deep and heavy.
Resigned to his fate, Geng Nuo pressed his lips together and muttered inwardly: Do it, do it, once you’re done I can go settle accounts with those bastards.
Yet Gu Chengyan still made no move. His hand continued to stroke back and forth across Geng Nuo’s waist, making that patch of skin feel scorching hot compared to the rest of his body.
Unable to help himself, Geng Nuo peeked back over his shoulder to investigate, only to find the man wearing a contemplative expression.
Gu Chengyan asked, “Was the bruise on your waist the first time I met you also caused by a fight with someone?”
Back then, due to that ambiguous bruise, Gu Chengyan had suspected that Geng Nuo’s greenness was merely an act, leading him to show no restraint that night.
Hearing this, Geng Nuo froze, forgetting to cry for a moment as it took him two full seconds to process the words.
At that exact moment, he felt as if he had been rocketed in an instant from the bitter, freezing snows of August straight into the boiling crater of a volcano, that was how incredible it felt.
My Lord Judge, you’ve finally figured it out?
You’ve figured it out, but I have no way to clear my name; the truth of the matter all boils down to your own subjective assumptions!
Just like right now.
Sticking his neck out, Geng Nuo retorted, “No! It was left on another customer’s bed!”
With that, he spitefully buried his head back into the bed.
Gu Chengyan was amused to the point of laughter. Irritation forgotten in the face of the boy’s snarky backtalk, he reached out and gave a heavy squeeze to Geng Nuo’s backside. “Don’t deliberately pick a fight with me. Alright, get up.”
Geng Nuo lay motionless, face down.
Giving him a light pat on the buttocks, Gu Chengyan asked again, “How much was actually stolen?”
What do you care how much was stolen?! Do you have any idea how much you gave me in the first place?
Gu Chengyan forcefully yanked him up. Pressed right into the sheets was a damp, distinct imprint of facial features.
It looked utterly comical.
Feeling as though even the bedsheets were conspiring against him, Geng Nuo snapped and yelled defensively, “A lot! I told you it was a lot!”
Fine, fine, whether it was much or little, he could just look into it later.
Gu Chengyan still spared him a shred of face, holding back his laughter and even kindly pulling a piece of tissue to blow his nose for him.
Geng Nuo blew his nose into it like a little kid.
Once finished, whether out of disgust for his own snot or sheer embarrassment, he shoved against Gu Chengyan’s arm and shoved himself backward.
The tears had mostly stopped, but his breath hadn’t recovered yet, causing him to repeatedly gasp in an uncontrolled rhythm.
Tossing the tissue away and wiping his hands, Gu Chengyan reached out an arm and reeled Geng Nuo back in.
“Stop crying. Save some water to drip from down below.”
He spoke those brazen words with complete composure, instantly sending a cloud of steam rising from the naked body in his arms.
Seeing that he had stopped crying, Gu Chengyan pinched Geng Nuo’s chin and teased, “Smile for me.”
Teased to the point of furious embarrassment, Geng Nuo bared his teeth at him in imitation of a cornered animal.
Tsk. Trying to comfort someone only to get provoked in return, Gu Chengyan rudely thrust his fingers into Geng Nuo’s mouth, clamping onto one side of his defiant sharp fangs. “Let me see you bare your teeth at me again.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but the intimidation factor was formidable.
Geng Nuo leaned back desperately, whining pitifully, yet his canine teeth couldn’t escape the clutches of the iron grip, nor could he close his mouth. He could only mumble out pleas for mercy: “I won’t do it anymore, I won’t…”
Despite such pleading, Gu Chengyan showed no mercy, thoroughly churning his fingers around inside Geng Nuo’s mouth. His fingers were long and thick with distinct knuckles, the pads roughened by thick calluses, a stark contrast to the slick, tender flesh of Geng Nuo’s tongue.
He played with him until Geng Nuo’s jaw grew sore and saliva began to leak out before finally stopping.
Pulling out his fingers slick with sparkling saliva, Gu Chengyan let out a hum of amusement and thrust his fingers right in front of Geng Nuo’s eyes.
“Look, you’ve soaked them right through.”