“…My hand hurts a little.” Song Qie tried to pull his hand back.
He thought to himself—why does everyone in this book like to touch and move around so much? It’s truly stressful.
Lu Beihuai thought Song Qie was concerned about him. Suppressing his inner disgust, he softened his tone: “It’s okay, Young Master. I don’t feel any pain.”
“My hand hurts,” Song Qie said gloomily, looking at Lu Beihuai.
Lu Beihuai: “…” He silently let go of the hand he was holding. Sure enough, that slender wrist had turned red. He clearly hadn’t used much force; the boy was truly pampered. “I’m sorry.”
“How did you get these? Did you really earn money by letting people hit you?” Song Qie looked at the bruises on Lu Beihuai’s arm. They hadn’t been treated properly and were still seeping blood. He couldn’t help but frown. “How much money does my mom give you every month? Is it not enough?”
The implication was: I give you money every month, is it still not enough to live on?
Lu Beihuai thought to himself that she did indeed give him five thousand yuan a month. However, the costs for his father’s hospitalization due to heart failure were far beyond that. In the later stages, there was even the possibility of a heart transplant, which would require even more money.
How could a mere five thousand yuan in wages be enough?
This person owed him. What he had to pay back for the years of bullying was definitely more than five thousand.
He intended to take back every bit of suffering he had endured over the last ten years from Song Qie. He would take everything that belonged to Song Qie, no matter the cost.
“My dad is in the hospital. We need a lot of money, so I figured I’d work whenever I can.”
“Why is he in the hospital?” Song Qie saw that Lu Beihuai’s expression was grim. It seemed serious. “I’ll talk to my parents and see if they can help your father.”
As he spoke, he headed toward the study. He remembered there was a first-aid kit in the cabinet there.
Lu Beihuai saw him running into the study barefoot. “Young Master, the air conditioning is on and the floor is cold. You need to wear slippers.”
He bent down, picked up the slippers nearby, and followed him into the study.
Song Qie ran into the room and opened the cabinet. Sure enough, the first-aid kit was right there.
He took the kit out and turned around to leave, only to see Lu Beihuai walking in carrying his slippers. His ears instantly felt hot.
Before he could say anything, Lu Beihuai walked up and knelt down in front of him, grabbing his ankle. “Young Master, put on your shoes.”
Song Qie: “…” His hand holding the kit shook, nearly dropping it. He lifted his ankle to try and pull away, but his foot was gripped by a large hand. His ears turned bright red.
How can he just touch someone’s foot like that!
“Your feet are freezing.” Lu Beihuai looked up at Song Qie. Seeing the boy’s face and ears flushed pink, he wondered if he was shy because of the touch. Before, Song Qie would have just kicked him away. It seemed the boy was weak to this kind of treatment now. “Don’t set the AC so low. you just got better; it’s easy to catch a cold like this.”
He finished putting the slippers on Song Qie, stood up, and went to the walk-in closet.
Seeing Lu Beihuai leave, Song Qie let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm his racing heart. He placed the first-aid kit on the desk.
Suddenly, Lu Beihuai returned with a pair of socks. He knelt on one knee, grabbed Song Qie’s ankle, placed it on his own knee, and stretched the sock out to put it on him.
“!!!!” Terrified, Song Qie pulled his foot back by reflex. Because his reaction was too big, he lost his balance.
“Careful.”
In a daze, Song Qie felt his waist being gripped and himself being lifted up. By the time he realized what happened, he was sitting on the desk.
His heart hammered against his ribs. His eyelashes trembled as he looked down, his gaze meeting the other man’s dark eyes. He felt a tightening in his back, a feeling of being unable to escape.
“I…”
The next second, his ankle was grabbed again.
Song Qie felt like he was on fire. He watched Lu Beihuai kneel before him once more.
Lu Beihuai held the ankle that was trying to escape and looked up at Song Qie with eyes full of concern. “Young Master, I’ll be worried if you get sick. Please don’t get sick, okay?”
Song Qie pressed his lips together, trying to stay calm. However, he couldn’t stop his body from trembling in response to the touch.
…So, should he just follow Lu Beihuai’s lead?
What if he didn’t?
The teenager sitting on the desk was wearing snow-white loungewear. He was already fair-skinned, so the crimson flush on his neck and ears looked like vivid flowers blooming against a pure background.
He kept his legs together and placed his hands neatly on his knees. His thin shoulders shook slightly from nerves. He didn’t dare look at the person in front of him; his eyes were full of watery tension.
He tried to pull back the foot being held, but he couldn’t get it free. He looked like he might burst into tears from fear at any moment.
“You never take good care of yourself, Young Master, so I have to watch you more closely.” Lu Beihuai lowered his eyelids to hide the deep gloom in his gaze. He didn’t let the ankle escape, holding it firmly while he pulled the sock on. “I don’t want to see you sick. It hurts my heart.”
The ankle was slender, and the area where it was held turned red immediately. The white sock was pulled up slowly, resting just below the calf.
However, he knew the marks would fade quickly.
Song Qie: “…Okay.”
He couldn’t get his ankle away at all. Waaaah, I feel like this Lu Beihuai is a total pervert.
Hearing the trembling voice in the reply, Lu Beihuai finally let go of the ankle, stood up slowly, and reached out to lift him down from the desk.
“…!!!” Song Qie’s body tensed, and then his feet hit the floor.
“I feel like you’re very nervous, Young Master. Am I doing something wrong?” Lu Beihuai asked.
Song Qie bit his lip and moved his gaze to the first-aid kit nearby, changing the subject. “I need to treat your wounds, or they’ll be worse tomorrow. Sit over there.”
He turned away to open the kit, chanting to himself: It’s fine, it’s just a small thing, my life is more important, just go along with it for now.
He finished and looked at Lu Beihuai.
“Okay.” Lu Beihuai met the pleading look in the boy’s eyes. At least the current situation was exactly what he wanted. He could definitely use the boy’s “crush” on him to achieve his goals.
He walked over and sat in the chair by his own desk.
Song Qie took the disinfectant and cotton swabs. When he turned around, he saw Lu Beihuai sitting with his legs spread wide. He froze for two seconds and swallowed hard.
Under the lights, the tall boy leaning back in the chair wore a black T-shirt and gym pants. His broad shoulders and long legs, combined with the muscular lines visible through his thin clothes, created an invisible sense of pressure as he rested his hands on his knees.
It had to be said that Lu Beihuai’s physique didn’t look like a typical domestic high schooler at all. He looked more like a student from the West—very tall and built, yet still carrying a hint of youthful energy due to his age.
Right now, his eyes held a sort of gloomy, melancholic tenderness.
This boy, who grew up in “Song Qie’s” shadow, was like a rugosa rose—the last flower of summer. Even as it withers, it possesses a decadent beauty that refuses to leave the stage, a mix of pure white and gloomy black.
A total “white-cut-black.”
Song Qie stared for a moment until he realized Lu Beihuai was watching him. He silently looked away, walked over, and held the boy’s arm to disinfect the injury. “So, what exactly is your part-time job?”
The teenager’s hair smelled of soap from his shower. His soft hair covered his eyes as he looked down, making him look as refined as jade—beautiful and obedient.
His earlobes still held the red flush from his earlier shyness.
Is he doing this on purpose?
Lu Beihuai watched him. He saw Song Qie carefully disinfecting the wound as if he were afraid of hurting him. He couldn’t help but make a pained sound.
Hearing Lu Beihuai gasp, Song Qie’s hand shook. He looked at him nervously. “…I—did I press too hard?”
“It hurts a little.” Lu Beihuai looked up, his eyes shimmering. “But it’s okay. I’m happy because you care about me.”
Song Qie: “…” Not this awkward flirting again. He refused to look up and just lightened his touch, dabbing with the cotton swab. “How about now?”
“Mm, you’re very gentle, Young Master.”
Song Qie: “…” Help, why does he have to use that tone? I really want to find a hole to crawl into.
No, stay strong. I have to save this future boss from turning evil.
“Um… I’m sorry.”
Lu Beihuai watched Song Qie, who was still applying the medicine. He noticed the boy didn’t look at him but said those words. “Why are you suddenly saying sorry, Young Master?”
“I’m saying sorry for the things I did to you in the past.” Song Qie changed to a new cotton swab and tossed the used one in the trash. “I won’t bully you like that anymore.”
Just as he was about to press a bandage near Lu Beihuai’s lip, his wrist was suddenly grabbed.
“Why?”
Song Qie froze. Meeting Lu Beihuai’s focused gaze, he felt a numbness spread from his wrist through half of his body. He felt his face heat up and his heart beat faster.
He really didn’t like physical contact with people he wasn’t close to. He was so nervous and uncomfortable.
And he felt like…
Thump-thump—
His heartbeat grew louder, and his breathing became noticeable.
He instinctively tried to back away, but his butt hit the corner of the desk. He cried out in pain and rubbed the side that got hit. Then, he saw Lu Beihuai laugh.
Their eyes met.
The tall boy with a bandage near his lip looked as if his gloom had vanished when he laughed. The corners of his mouth tilted up with a bit of a rebellious air. Looking at him for too long gave one the illusion that time was slowing down.
“…What are you laughing at?” Song Qie asked, feeling flustered. Can he really smile like this at me after how the original “Song Qie” bullied him? What kind of mental strength and stress tolerance does he have?
“Your ears are red, Young Master.” Lu Beihuai pointed to those bright red ears.
Song Qie: “.” Sigh, it’s an old habit, just a basic symptom of slight social anxiety. He touched his ear; it was indeed burning. “Anyway, I won’t bully you anymore.”
“Okay.”
Song Qie looked at Lu Beihuai, feeling half-skeptical.
Lu Beihuai smiled. “I believe you.”
Song Qie: “.”
Acting, just keep acting.
He threw the used cotton swab into the trash. “Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something together?”
“Okay.”
Song Qie: “…” See? This guy’s incredibly thick skin is something I really need to learn from.
A while later, the two of them were sitting cross-legged on the carpet by the coffee table in the living room.
“You still haven’t told me what your part-time job is.” Song Qie pushed his untouched bowl of noodles toward him. “I haven’t eaten from this one, you take it.”
Lu Beihuai’s hand holding the chopsticks paused as he looked at the bowl.
“If you don’t want to say, it’s okay. I don’t necessarily have to know, it’s just…” Song Qie looked at the bruises on Lu Beihuai’s arm; they were clearly from being hit. Is this guy involved with a gang? I hope I don’t have to bail him out before I’ve even finished saving him. That would be a loss.
Lu Beihuai looked at Song Qie. “Are you worried about me?”
Seeing him looking, Song Qie propped his head on his hand and looked away as naturally as possible. He looked around innocently.
“Of course, I am. Hurry up and eat before the noodles get cold.”