Yan Zhuo made no further sound. His face was deathly pale, cold sweat soaking the fine hair at his forehead, and his lips were tinged with a sickly white. His fractured voice was swallowed down his throat, no one could clearly make out what he was saying.
Jiang Yan squatted beside Yan Zhuo and noticed the man’s hands clutching tightly at his stomach, wrinkling his shirt in a vice grip as his whole body trembled like autumn leaves in the wind.
It seemed every male lead suffered from severe stomach pain, and Yan Zhuo was no exception.
Jiang Yan realized what was happening. He guessed Yan Zhuo had been driven mad with jealousy at the banquet while watching Nan Yu and Song Jingxuan exchange glances, ended up chugging booze to drown his sorrows, and consequently flared up his stomach condition.
Tsk tsk tsk, youngsters really don’t value their own lives.
Jiang Yan casually picked up the suit jacket from the floor and draped it over him. Yan Zhuo was evidently in intense pain, his eyelashes were drenched in cold sweat, trembling fragilely like a wounded butterfly, biting a thread of color back into his paper-white lips.
A splash of bright crimson stood out against his pale face, giving him the haunting look of a ghost from a horror movie.
Forget it, forget it, Jiang Yan thought to himself. For the sake of having pushed you earlier, I’ll begrudgingly take care of you this once.
Jiang Yan sighed, slowly stood up, and walked over to the kitchen to pour a glass of warm water. Finding no hangover cure, he settled for stirring a bit of honey into the water.
He sat back down by the edge of the sofa and held the glass up to Yan Zhuo’s lips. “Open your mouth.”
Hearing this, Yan Zhuo opened his eyes with great effort. Dazed and unable to recognize who was in front of him, he simply followed the clean, refreshing scent, reaching out to clutch Jiang Yan’s arm and leaning against it. He murmured softly:
“Mom…”
“Uh-huh, good boy!”
Jiang Yan, adapting easily to becoming a mom for free, brought the water glass back to Yan Zhuo’s lips. Yan Zhuo closed his eyes, breathing heavily, and slid all the way down to rest on Jiang Yan’s lap, motionless. As his lips brushed the rim of the glass, he cooperatively took a sip of water.
When Jiang Yan tried to feed him more, he refused to drink another drop.
“Really hard to serve.”
He set the glass down on the coffee table, feeling rather helpless toward the fluffy head resting on his lap. Just as he tried to leave, Yan Zhuo wrapped his arms tightly around his waist.
“Don’t go…”
Yan Zhuo rested his head on Jiang Yan’s thigh, his hollow eyes wide open as his gaze fixed on a random spot in midair. A giant shadow on the ceiling frightened him into cowering slightly, nestling deeper into Jiang Yan’s embrace. That fresh scent granted him a fleeting sense of security.
“Please…”
This normally decisive and ruthless Alpha revealed an unknown, fragile side in the dead of night, in front of a complete stranger of a Beta.
“Don’t go…”
Yan Zhuo closed his eyes again. His whiskey pheromones spilled out uncontrollably, carrying a soothing note as he attempted to keep the person in his arms from abandoning him.
Jiang Yan couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. He had no choice but to donate his thighs for Yan Zhuo to use as a pillow while he leaned back against the sofa, staring blankly at Yan Zhuo’s profile to pass the time, his thoughts wandering.
It was as if they were performing a melancholy classical drama. The rustling leaves outside composed a flowing piano melody, and bathed in the cool night air, the moment took on a tinge of ancient Greek tragedy.
Jiang Yan’s legs were growing numb. He gave his leg a gentle shake, causing Yan Zhuo to whimper at the disturbance. Hearing his complaint, Jiang Yan stopped, looking down at him with a scolding tone:
“If you can’t drink, don’t drink. Who are you trying to show off for?”
“And now that you’ve had too much, I’m the one who has to wait on you.”
Jiang Yan babbled on with great relish. The bright, dazzling lights of the living room cast a glow over Yan Zhuo’s face, highlighting his handsome, sculpted features, looking like a masterpiece from Florence.
Stomach pain really is a trendy accessory for every domineering CEO, Jiang Yan mused. He reached out a finger to trace the dark circles under Yan Zhuo’s eyes from afar, clicking his tongue:
“Frustrated in love, turning to alcohol to drown your troubles.”
“Mmh…”
Whether it was because Jiang Yan was too noisy or the sip of warm water had taken effect, Yan Zhuo suddenly opened his eyes without warning. His dark orbs stared blankly at Jiang Yan, looking no different from a wooden puppet.
“What are you talking about?”
A raspy voice suddenly rang out in the quiet room. Jiang Yan was startled, he looked down at the man on his lap, getting a fresh wave of goosebumps from Yan Zhuo’s eerie, ghostly gaze.
He scratched his chin and blurted out a random lie:
“I said… I said our young master has a terrible case of stomach pain.”
Yan Zhuo stared blankly into Jiang Yan’s eyes, speechless. Hearing such unhelpful nonsense, he felt annoyed at himself for even opening his mouth, so he simply closed his eyes again.
Out of sight, out of mind.
“It breaks my heart to see young master like this.”
Jiang Yan’s next sentence unexpectedly exploded right by Yan Zhuo’s ear like a summer thunderstorm, jolting him so hard that his eyes snapped open. He glared straight at Jiang Yan, his thin lips opening slightly.
“Get out.”
Normally, Jiang Yan might actually back down, but right now Yan Zhuo was sleeping on his lap with red-rimmed eyes and a pale face, lacking any real intimidation factor.
Consequently, Jiang Yan grew quite bold.
Che…
Jiang Yan curled his lips, slandering him internally. This guy is awful, tender as water toward Nan Yu, softening his voice when he speaks, but cruel and cold to me, full of impatience.
We’re both human, why is the treatment so vastly different?
Someone really needs to carve “All Men Are Created Equal” right onto Yan Zhuo’s forehead.
“Hey, look closely. Who’s the one taking care of you?”
Jiang Yan pointed to himself, then pointed to Yan Zhuo, his tone full of condemnation and his eyes filled with accusation.
“Who is it?!”
Yan Zhuo felt he must still be drunk, otherwise, why did listening to Jiang Yan’s accusations make him feel like a scumbag ex-lover?
Temporarily startled by his own thought, Yan Zhuo stared up blankly at Jiang Yan, his gaze fixed like a block of wood.
Being stared at like that gave Jiang Yan the creeps. Feeling guilty inside, he raised his hand and covered Yan Zhuo’s eyes directly. Yan Zhuo’s eyelashes swept across his palm, like a feather lightly tickling his heart.
It felt itchy and soft.
Quite different from its ill-tempered owner.
“What are you looking at me for?”
Yan Zhuo retorted coldly:
“Why are you covering my eyes?”
Perhaps it was the whiskey scent floating in the air creeping into Jiang Yan’s brain, making him speak as if he were drunk, even though he was just a Beta.
“Afraid that if you look too long, you’ll fall in love with me.”
“…”
Yan Zhuo froze for a few seconds upon hearing this, then suddenly let out a cold laugh that sounded particularly abrupt in the cavernous villa.
No one had ever repeatedly provoked him in a single day.
Over all these years, Jiang Yan was the very first person who dared to jump up and down on Yan Zhuo’s landmines and still emerge completely intact.
Yet to Jiang Yan, this was just everyday business. Out in the world, who hadn’t spoken a few sweet words, and who hadn’t heard a few moving lines of romance?
When in Rome, you do as the Romans do.
Yan Zhuo, however, broke his rules of the game.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“…”
Ha.
Unappreciated effort was exactly what Jiang Yan was dealing with. Doing a good deed once in a blue moon, only for the beneficiary to be ungrateful and throw his kindness back in his face, Jiang Yan was so annoyed he beat his chest and stomped his feet, his fists itching to hit something.
Repeatedly chanting endure, endure, endure in his mind, Jiang Yan finally calmed himself down. He slapped his own thigh hard, causing Yan Zhuo’s head to shake along with it.
“If you finish me off, whose lap are you gonna rest your head on?”
Only when Jiang Yan pointed it out did Yan Zhuo realize his current position. Embarrassed for a brief second, he remained silent as he sluggishly scrambled up from Jiang Yan’s lap and leaned back against the sofa.
Suddenly feeling thirsty, he caught sight of the glass of water on the coffee table, picked it up casually, and took a sip. Jiang Yan seized the moment from the side and chimed in out of nowhere:
“If you finish me off, who’s gonna make you honey water?”
The water got stuck in Yan Zhuo’s throat, he couldn’t swallow it down or spit it out. In the end, to preserve his crumbling dignity under Jiang Yan’s burning gaze, he swallowed it.
The gulp of water fell heavily into his stomach as if he had swallowed a stone instead of water, pressing down uncomfortably.
Yan Zhuo set the glass down, his hand still clutching his stomach. He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, shifting the topic to ask:
“Why do you want to stay at my place?”
For money.
Of course, he couldn’t speak the truth.
Jiang Yan pondered for a moment, covered his non-existent conscience, and said with heartbreaking grief:
“To be honest with you, my family has a gambling dad, a sick mom, and a sister in school…”
Yan Zhuo glanced sideways at him, and his stomach cramped again, feeling as if a pair of large hands had tied it into a dead knot, leaving him breathless from the pain. He interrupted Jiang Yan’s speech in irritation.
“Stop acting.”
Opening his eyes in a haze, the memory of Nan Yu and Song Jingxuan at the dinner table resurfaced. A gloomy, paranoid expression flashed across his eyes. Jiang Yan, standing nearby, noticed something was wrong.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I agree to your proposal.”
“Huh?”
“What you mentioned during the day, I agree to it,” Yan Zhuo stood up, looking down at Jiang Yan and saying: “Once it’s done, you won’t be lacking in benefits.”
“However,” his tone shifted into a sharp warning, “do what you’re supposed to do. If you harbour any other intentions, the consequences won’t be what you want.”
Without waiting for a response, Yan Zhuo turned around and went upstairs. Seeing him leave, Jiang Yan paused for a moment before stepping out to follow closely behind him step-by-step.
It wasn’t until they reached the bedroom door that Yan Zhuo, resting his hand on the doorknob, finally lost his patience. He turned around, glaring at Jiang Yan: “Why do you keep following me?”
Hearing this, Jiang Yan leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, speaking with absolute innocence:
“I say, President Yan, you should at least give me a place to stay, right?”
“Go ask around outside, which wealthy CEO doesn’t give their housekeeper a room to live in? Are you really gonna make me sleep on the street?”
Jiang Yan paused, scanning the sickly Yan Zhuo up and down, and let out a long oh~. The tone sounded completely unrefined as he blinked playfully at Yan Zhuo.
“Or rather… do you want me to sleep with you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m really good at warming the bed.”
The corner of Yan Zhuo’s mouth twitched, his eyes filled with contempt as he unilaterally rejected Jiang Yan’s invitation. Opening the door, he stepped inside on his own, leaving behind a cold and ruthless back.
“Go find an empty room to sleep in yourself.”
Jiang Yan rubbed his nose, unbothered by having the door shut in his face. In a great mood, he set off to pick out a room.
Big villa, big villa, here he comes!
Back in the bedroom, Yan Zhuo pulled open the nightstand drawer, which was filled with various pill bottles. He poured them into his palm with practiced ease and stuffed them into his mouth all at once, letting the bitterness wash over him.
The ceiling light hurt his eyes, causing tears to seep from the corners. Yan Zhuo lay on the bed, curling himself into the blanket, his mouth bitter and his stomach throbbing in waves of sharp pain.
Yan Zhuo bit his lip tightly, swallowing every groan.
Even when he was completely alone, he was used to swallowing all his pain in silence.
Yet, in this cold, empty room, he inexplicably found himself yearning for that glass of warm water, and that warm, comforting embrace.
Truly insane.
Just as he was drifting off into a daze, a piercing pain suddenly flared up.
The sharp ache in his lower back finally exploded while no one was around. Yan Zhuo scrambled out from under the blanket, reached back to press on his lower back, wiped his face, and walked into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water echoed inside.
Steam filled the bathroom. Under the stream of hot water, the pain in his lower back intensified. Yan Zhuo turned off the shower, walked over to the mirror, turned slightly, and frowned as he looked back. Sure enough, there was a large patch of deep bruise.
In a flash, Yan Zhuo’s fragmented memory surfaced. He had been pushed off the sofa and hit his lower back right against the corner of the coffee table, leaving behind these bruised marks.
Surrounded by warm steam, Yan Zhuo’s dark eyes emitted a chilling coldness. Driven to laughter by sheer rage, he gnashed his teeth, almost grinding the two words into pieces:
“Jiang… Yan, ”
【I’m here.】
The system was called out by Jiang Yan.
At this moment, Jiang Yan was comfortably lying on the king-sized bed in his room. This was the best house he had ever lived in across two lifetimes, and the softest bed he had ever slept on. Leisurely, he crossed his legs in comfort.
“Play through the storyline progression of this world once more.”
Jiang Yan had a rough idea. Since the plot had veered completely off track, he would start from scratch without missing a single plot point.
Big or small, he wouldn’t let a single one slide.
The brute-force practice method never failed.
“Stop,” Jiang Yan called a halt, sitting up straight with a plan forming in his mind. “Let’s start right from this plot point.”