Shang Ling didn’t understand why, even when caught doing such a scandalous thing, Xi Yue could still wear such a breezy, carefree look.
It was as if the base things he had done were nothing more than the most ordinary, common trivialities.
Yet Xi Yue was clearly taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable state, taking stealthy kisses and bites while Yu Qing was completely unaware.
And Yu Qing was fast asleep to the point of being dead to the world, completely unable to resist, only able to let out pitiful, weeping sounds resembling begging for mercy.
How dared Xi Yue do such a thing!
However, his good breeding did not allow Shang Ling to act barbarically, nor did he deign to bicker with Xi Yue.
He only wanted to snatch Yu Qing back, but abruptly met with resistance.
The knuckles holding Yu Qing’s wrist tightened sharply, veins prominent on the back of his hand, his facial features as cold and rigid as a sculpture, as if he were forcibly enduring some violently surging emotions.
Shang Ling’s thin lips moved slightly, spitting out icy words: “Have some shame.”
His jawline was tightly tensed, his arm exerting force as he tried to pull Yu Qing back.
Afraid of hurting Yu Qing, Xi Yue didn’t fight Shang Ling for him; instead, Yu Qing, disturbed in his sleep, began to struggle discontentedly, suddenly burying his little head backward straight into Xi Yue’s embrace.
This sight looked extremely glaring in Shang Ling’s eyes, even somewhat wounding.
Yet he couldn’t genuinely blame Yu Qing, so he swept a frigid and sharp gaze toward Xi Yue: “Don’t make your eating posture too ugly.”
Hearing this, Xi Yue laughed instead, carrying contempt and mockery.
This was an expression Shang Ling had never seen before.
In the past, this kept-boy that Yu Qing had taken under his wing had always appeared submissive, timid, and obedient, doing whatever Yu Qing told him to do without a single thought of his own.
The cowardly and timid youth in Shang Ling’s eyes raised Yu Qing’s face right before him, leaning down directly to lick Yu Qing’s mouth.
He clearly saw the tip of Xi Yue’s tongue gently pressing against Yu Qing’s lower teeth, and how those full lips were kissed into different shapes, visibly soft.
The lips that had only just naturally air-dried became wet, and when they parted, there was still a messy, lingering thread stretching between their connected lips.
Shang Ling watched in a daze, immediately following up unable to bear it any longer, his movements inevitably becoming a bit too large.
His elbow accidentally bumped into a sculpture ornament on the side. Before he could even feel the sharp pain, he received a vicious slap straight across the face.
Shang Ling’s body took a small half-step back.
Yu Qing slowly opened his eyes, wearing a look of morning bedhead anger, the glare he cast over full of fury.
Because he had just woken up, his face was very red.
Yet Shang Ling knew that this redness was not caused by sleep, but rather applied through external force, squeezed out bit by bit.
Yu Qing’s lips were pressed tightly together. It should have been a fierce look of temper, but the moment his mouth moved, a strange sensation of numbness spreading to a throbbing ache washed over him.
His brows twitched together, not understanding why his mouth suddenly felt uncomfortable. Depressed, he licked his lips, and seeing Shang Ling’s bizarre expression, glared fiercely back at him.
What are you looking at!
He had no idea what he looked like right now.
His eyes were wet and red, uneven pink flushes spread all around his lip line, and his cupid’s bow was excessively vivid.
Clearly he had just taken a nap, but the tip of his nose along with his chin were stained and soaked with moisture from somewhere, making his entire face look damp.
When Yu Qing angrily pursed his lips, a delicate little dimple would form beneath them. Previously, Shang Ling would have found it cute, but now it looked exceptionally glaring.
The moisture inside was the most abundant, its presence too strong to be ignored, constantly reminding him of the intimate things they had just done.
Yet Shang Ling knew that none of this was Yu Qing’s voluntary choice.
Through a third-party perspective, he learned that Yu Qing had nursed a one-sided unrequited crush on him for many years.
From a long, long time ago, Yu Qing had been silently watching him, even though he never got a response, and was even treated as a nuisance and discarded as trouble.
Although this was Yu Qing’s own choice, he now realized that he too harbored different feelings for Yu Qing.
He couldn’t help repeatedly pondering how Yu Qing had managed to get through all those years facing his cold words and cold shoulders.
His heart ached.
Yet the very Yu Qing who had pined bitterly and foolishly for him for so many years had just slapped him without the slightest hesitation, and was now looking at him with hostile eyes.
Shang Ling covered his face, his upright and handsome countenance actually tinged with a rare grievance: “You hit me?”
Although Yu Qing had a narcolepsy condition, his sleep quality was normally quite good and he wasn’t easily woken up; but once woken, falling back asleep was very difficult.
At the same time, his limbs would go weak, his heartbeat would feel stuffy, and he would feel thoroughly uncomfortable.
Shang Ling had woken him up, and now he was putting on an expression like an aggrieved victim—who was he putting on that act for?
Yu Qing said coldly: “So what if I hit you? Is this the first time I’ve hit you? I hit you and I hit you, do I need to pick a lucky date for it?”
He didn’t want to hit people either; hitting people hurt his own hands, after all.
It was just that this group of people were too much!
Shang Ling fell momentarily speechless, instinctively wanting to utter words of reprimand, but thinking of Yu Qing’s silent devotion over so many years, he held it back.
“It’s not safe outside in hotels,” he said, his eyes darting away as he spoke, not even daring to meet Yu Qing’s gaze, slightly turning his head to expose a portion of his reddened earlobes, forcing himself to stay calm as he said, “Let’s go home.”
“No.”
Yu Qing refused without the slightest hesitation, reaching out to pull up the thin blanket to cover the lower half of his face.
After bundling himself up well, he stuffed himself into Xi Yue’s arms. “I’m not going back with you.”
“Get lost, I don’t want to see you.”
If he went back with Shang Ling, not only would he have a curfew, but he’d also be nagged and controlled everywhere, let alone getting to go to the night market.
Even though Xi Yue frequently annoyed him, at least Xi Yue didn’t spend all day trying to discipline him.
He hated being lectured by others the most.
Shang Ling was no fool; he could see Yu Qing’s resistance toward him. His thin lips pressed tight, and being rejected in front of Xi Yue made his expression somewhat humiliating.
Especially since Xi Yue wore the triumphant posture of a victor, looking toward him with provocation, which made him all the more gloomy.
However, Shang Ling didn’t go against Yu Qing; instead, he chose to yield.
Since he had decided to take care of Yu Qing, he would bear the corresponding responsibility. Besides, many of the things Elder Yu had said were not without reason.
Yu Qing was merely a bit spoiled in personality and just accustomed to being pampered; he hadn’t done anything heinous, nor had he touched things like gambling, drugs, or anything violating morals or law.
…As for that kiss just now, he could forget it.
Shang Ling kept trying to persuade himself not to think about this matter anymore; only when both parties were willing could it be considered a first kiss.
That kiss just now had not been Yu Qing’s first kiss.
Inside the car.
Shang Ling continuously brainwashed himself, and actually managed to convince himself.
In the driver’s seat, Lin You glanced at her boss through the rearview mirror, hesitating for a moment before deliberately speaking up: “President Shang, are you serious? But you used to feel that young master always clung to you and acted up, making you feel annoyed.”
Based on Lin You’s understanding of Shang Ling, once Shang Ling made a decision, he wouldn’t easily change it.
Since Shang Ling said he would take care of Yu Qing and protect him, he would definitely follow through.
Shang Ling’s expression shifted slightly, along with his gaze. His subordinate’s inquiry stirred up his memories, and images of the first time he met Yu Qing surfaced in his mind.
To be honest, the Yu Qing in his memories was indeed very irritating, always stirring up trouble and causing messes.
Calling Yu Qing delicate was a compliment; he was clearly a little demon king, and wherever he was, a storm of disturbances was guaranteed to follow.
Shang Ling didn’t deny it: “I really didn’t like him before.”
“And, although you two aren’t childhood sweethearts, you could still be considered to have watched the young master grow up. If you had any feelings for him, shouldn’t they have developed long ago?”
Why wait until now?
Shang Ling’s appearance was unusually upright, the type favored by all elders. The colorful lights from outside the car window shone upon his face, casting his facial features into deeper relief while making them appear even more resolute.
“The first time I saw Yu Qing, he was only twelve years old,” Shang Ling said. “And by then, I was already an adult.”
“Any normal adult would not develop thoughts toward a child who is neither physically nor psychologically mature.”
His tone was low, carrying clear censure. “That’s inducement, and even a crime.”
But things were different now.
The mischievous child from his memories had grown up, and while those mischievous traits hadn’t changed, Shang Ling himself had also grown increasingly mature, steady in character, and successful in his career, always believing that love was an exclusive and sacred existence.
Yu Qing remained looking like a spoiled child, raised amidst heaps of doting affection, growing ever more endearing.
And that made Shang Ling want to spoil him rotten.
As for that wild man.
Shang Ling had confidence in himself; he had superior looks, a top-tier family background, and coupled with Yu Qing’s long-standing infatuation, he held an overwhelmingly strong advantage.
And Xi Yue?
He was nothing more than a pastime to kill time.
If he wanted to, Yu Qing would return to his side at any moment.
…
After Shang Ling left, Yu Qing was furious, not even in the mood to yawn as he angrily went to change his clothes.
Afterward, he looked seriously at Xi Yue: “I am really angry.”
Xi Yue watched him, awaiting his next words. True to expectation, Yu Qing angrily clenched his fists: “I’m going to the night market right now!”
Although it was getting a bit late, it was the prime time for late-night snacks.
Before leaving, Xi Yue handed Yu Qing a box. When Yu Qing opened it, it was a piece of jadeite.
He looked over in bewilderment. What was this?
556 helpfully explained: [Under Elder Yu’s influence, Shang Ling is exceptionally fond of traditional Chinese painting and even more infatuated with traditional art. Knowing you like jadeite, he had this landscape jade pendant custom-made to win your favor.]
[It was delivered just today, and the remaining balance was settled only an hour ago.]
For Shang Ling?
Yet Yu Qing didn’t think this was Shang Ling’s style.
This pale-water jadeite landscape pendant had trees and mountain ranges winding through it, its color calm and steady like a bottomless lake, exceptionally profound.
The young master, who had just been rudely awakened by Shang Ling, held a deep grudge and refused to give Shang Ling any gift.
He looked up at Xi Yue instead, feeling it actually suited Xi Yue quite well: “Put it on and let me see.”
Xi Yue was stunned for a moment, then put it on himself.
This jade pendant really did suit Xi Yue very well; his skin was fairer than that of ordinary men, and while his facial features carried an exotic, deep-set look, his temperament was gentle and elegant.
Yu Qing was quite satisfied with his own eye for aesthetics, proudly lifting his chin: “It’s for you.”
Considered a reward for taking him to the night market.
Li Wu’s car had been rear-ended, and the other party was entirely at fault. On the phone, she cursed out the male driver who didn’t know how to drive, and upon hearing that Yu Qing was going to the night market, she took the initiative to treat them.
When Yu Qing went downstairs, he was skipping and hopping, but due to overexcitement, right on the final step, he suddenly said to Xi Yue: “Don’t move.”
Just as Xi Yue stopped walking on flat ground, someone jumped onto his back, and soft arms immediately looped around his neck, intoxicatingly fragrant.
Without noticing, a black Maybach was hidden in the darkness.
As Xi Yue carried Yu Qing on his back past the car window, the window suddenly rolled down, revealing Shang Ling’s visibly slightly irritated face.
Yu Qing didn’t want to drag things out with Shang Ling, but he was also afraid Shang Ling would badmouth him to his grandfather or tell tales.
He had a strong hunch that Shang Ling knew he was heading to the night market.
Yu Qing had Xi Yue wait aside for a moment and scrambled into the car. Before the door was even fully closed, he asked fiercely: “What is it!”
His impatient expression and dismissive tone both made Shang Ling feel somewhat wounded.
His long, straight eyelashes fluttered as he rested one hand on the leather seat, slowly leaning in: “Baby, stop being angry, let’s go home, okay?”
The warm yellow light inside the car concealed Shang Ling’s handsome face, which had turned red from embarrassment.
Hearing that term of endearment, Yu Qing felt his scalp practically explode, and his expression grew even fiercer: “What nonsense are you shouting, are you out of your mind?!”
With that, he made to get out of the car.
The pet name “Baby” was what Elder Yu frequently called Yu Qing.
As he grew older, Yu Qing felt the word “baby” was too childish and sounded too embarrassing, so he had acted spoiled and asked Elder Yu to stop calling him that.
Elder Yu remembered, but on certain occasions, that term of endearment would still slip out in a doting yet helpless manner.
An elder calling him that and Shang Ling calling him that were two entirely different things. When Elder Yu called him that, he could feel the doting affection.
When Shang Ling called him that, he felt it was pure sarcasm.
“Fine, I won’t call you that anymore. I’ll listen to you in everything.”
Shang Ling didn’t quite understand why Yu Qing reacted so strongly to that term of endearment; it was clearly very cute.
Still, he wanted to coax Yu Qing back first; at the very least, he had to coax him home.
“I know I was too excessive before, always ignoring your feelings, thinking you were childish, spoiled, and ill-mannered. That was my mistake, I apologize to you,” he said. “From now on, I won’t try to change you anymore. You are wonderful just as you are.”
Though he had no idea what wrong medicine Shang Ling had taken today, seeing that he had finally found a conscience, Yu Qing let out a magnanimous huff: “I’ve always been wonderful.”
Shang Ling paused, his throat moving slightly from tension, his earlobes turning red all over. “Actually, I like you too.”
“You like me? Are you crazy?”
“Don’t you like me?”
Shang Ling’s counter-question carried a trace of confidence. If Yu Qing wasn’t seeing things, it was even laced with a bit of sweetness, as if this were a beautiful mutual romance.
He ruthlessly popped that romantic fantasy bubble, saying impatiently: “Why would I like you? I don’t have gerontophilia.”
“…”
A brief silence fell inside the car. Even with the central partition raised, Lin You in the driver’s seat could feel a dead, heavy awkwardness and stillness.
That handsome countenance, which had originally been brimming with delight, instantly froze, cracking inch by inch like a drought-stricken field lacking water for years, unable to maintain an ounce of dignity.
Shang Ling’s expression was full of injury: “Old? I’m only six years older than you!”
Yu Qing asked back righteously: “You’re a whole six years older than me, isn’t that old? Me calling you ‘older brother’ is already doing you a favor, otherwise with an age gap like this, me calling you ‘uncle’ wouldn’t be going too far at all.”
He asked in earnest, “Compared to me, aren’t you old?”
Shang Ling had no way to refute.
In a romantic relationship, a six-year age gap wasn’t uncommon, but if one insisted on bringing up the gap, gossip was inevitably unavoidable.
Regardless of how it went, the words “gerontophilia” still stung Shang Ling.
He had never considered himself old; he was only twenty-four this year, young and accomplished in his career, the very picture of youthful success in everyone’s eyes.
It was just that Yu Qing was far too young, making him seem old by comparison.
Yet in Yu Qing’s mouth, he practically sounded like those white-haired, lustful geezers coveting teenage boys and girls.
Shang Ling consoled himself that Yu Qing was just running his mouth off on a whim and harbored no malicious intent.
Yet, as if afraid he wouldn’t hear clearly, Yu Qing deliberately raised his volume and said: “Being six years older than me and still trying to hit on me, an old cow eating tender grass, have you no shame!”
The young master had a simple and straightforward personality, hating openly and frankly without ever hiding it.
It was only now that Shang Ling noticed a large patch of red on Yu Qing’s thigh, looking as though it had been stained by some sort of pigment.
That wildly vivid red against the snow-white background made it look all the more alluring, and his lips were similarly bright red. Because they had just been passionately kissed, the skin was thin and soft, looking exceptionally translucent.
Just looking at it like this made Shang Ling feel a wave of dry heat; the car’s air conditioning couldn’t suppress the surging thoughts churning within him.
That red pair of lips was still foolishly flapping open and closed without sensing any danger, deliberately spouting harsh words to provoke him.
Truly asking for discipline.
The moment that thought popped into his head, Shang Ling took action, quickly brushing his lips against Yu Qing’s before straightening back up into his seat, wearing a solemn and upright expression.
As if the person who had just stolen a kiss wasn’t him.
Yu Qing widened his eyes, glaring angrily at the proper-looking man beside him.
In Shang Ling’s eyes, that was a kiss; in his eyes, it wasn’t—his lips had been bumped into quickly, and it hurt quite a bit.
Believing it to be Shang Ling’s deliberate retaliation, he grabbed Shang Ling’s tie and dragged him down like pulling a dog’s leash.
Caught off guard, Shang Ling had no time to voice a sound, let alone dodge.
His lips brushed against Yu Qing’s cheek, an unnatural blush rapidly spreading across his face, so much so that he didn’t even dare look at Yu Qing.
Yu Qing forcefully yanked open his collar, retaliating by biting him.
He took a bite right on the shoulder, yet Yu Qing found his teeth aching, cursing inwardly that this guy’s skin was truly thick, and repeatedly gnawed on the flesh with his lips, terrified he wouldn’t feel any pain.
Whether Yu Qing hit some spot or another, Shang Ling suddenly stiffened, and then pressed him down onto the sofa.
His hands were pinned above his head, unable to move at all.
Shang Ling gazed at him quietly.
Struggling with all four limbs proved utterly useless. Driven crazy by being subdued without the slightest ability to fight back, he smashed his head against Shang Ling’s chin.
Only then did Shang Ling prop himself up slightly in pain, staring down at Yu Qing sprawled flat on the back seat.
Disregarding the pain, his gaze locked onto that soft, snow-white neck flesh resembling cow’s milk, and finally abandoning all decorum and self-restraint, he bit down like a madman.
At the same time, he gripped Yu Qing’s two wrists tightly, pinning them dead against the leather seat above his head.
Yu Qing tried hard to dodge, but exerting his utmost strength in struggle only brought about an intensification of the treatment.
The meticulous and rigorous facade had long since scattered into oblivion, his hair disheveled and breathing heavily like a desperate rake.
It wasn’t until Yu Qing worked up a slight hint of a cry that Shang Ling slowly let him go.
The moment his hand released him, acting like a provoked little cat, Yu Qing pounced forward with force.
Shang Ling was pushed back against the front seat’s backrest, being fiercely gnawed upon.
Repeating Shang Ling’s actions from just moments before as a form of venting, Shang Ling had no intention of stopping him.
After Yu Qing bit his side neck, Shang Ling dropped a sentence out of nowhere: “I have a very important meeting tomorrow, a large public meeting.”
He snorted coldly: “So what?”
“So a lot of people will see.” Shang Ling emphasized, “Including Grandfather.”
Yu Qing fell silent for a moment, leaning in close to the neck to inspect the small red mark on the side, reaching out to poke it, which drew a muffled groan from the man.
He awkwardly said: “…Cover it up.”
“No.”
“You’re going to see Grandfather looking like that?”
Shang Ling wore a calm expression; that was indeed what he intended to do. His actions looked utterly insane in Yu Qing’s eyes: “You’re crazy!”
“Not only will I show Grandfather like this, I’ll also tell him you bit me.” Shang Ling added fuel to the fire, “And that you bit it until it bled.”
Yu Qing was so angry his eyelashes trembled; he hadn’t expected Shang Ling to be this shamelessly thick-skinned, actually resorting to playing the rascal.
Was Shang Ling a primary schooler? Running off to tell tales.
Although he really had bitten him, when had it bled!
At most, there were a lot of red marks.
While he was fuming with anger here, Shang Ling wore a smile. Glaring fiercely over in return only made Shang Ling smile even more broadly.
In Shang Ling’s eyes, Yu Qing throwing a tantrum was especially cute—haughty and mischievous, yet making one yearn to draw closer.
He tried hard to hurl harsh words, but he didn’t know how to swear, let alone say anything with substantive aggressive bite. His pretty lip shape opened and closed, making him look all the more fascinating instead.
Shang Ling leaned in slowly, wanting to kiss his lips again, but Yu Qing shot him a cold sideways look, earning Shang Ling yet another slap.
…
Xi Yue had waited outside the car for nearly ten minutes. The car windows were covered with a special film, making it impossible to see what was happening inside.
Yet he felt extremely uneasy.
Finally, the car door was pushed open and then slammed shut with force.
Yu Qing’s face was flushed, his hair disheveled, and the clothes he had neatly tidied up were full of wrinkles, his collar crooked to one side, revealing a large expanse of mottled, varied marks.
Like hickeys.
How delicate Yu Qing’s skin was, Xi Yue knew better than anyone; these traces were clearly inflicted without preparation, spontaneous and unplanned.
Crisscrossing and repeatedly overlapping, the trajectory of the marks revealed how brutal and clumsy the person who carved them had been, and how deeply lost in it they were.
Yet unexpectedly, Yu Qing didn’t seem as willing as one might imagine.
His expression was angry, shining like two starlight lamps in the dark night, making his face look all the more radiant and stunning.
Not seeing Xi Yue, Yu Qing walked straight past him, clearly having been truly angered to the core.
At that moment, looking ahead, the windows of the Maybach lurking in the shadows rolled down in sync.
“You know he’s simple-minded, so you deliberately dote on him, indulge him, muddle his concepts, and make him think you’re a good person standing on his side, all to win his favor,” Shang Ling said coldly. “Despicable villain.”
Shang Ling had finally figured out why Yu Qing liked lingering around Xi Yue.
It was because Xi Yue didn’t control him; whatever he wanted to do, Xi Yue would help him accomplish it.
To Yu Qing, who had a simple personality and a childlike mindset, indulgence mattered more to him than someone doing things for his own good.
He didn’t care whether the result of the matter was good or bad; he only wanted to enjoy the process.
Like a child forbidden to eat candy due to tooth decay, unconsciously resenting their parents.
Yet at that moment, someone appeared, handing them a piece of candy and indulging them unconditionally.
Comparing the two, he would think this person was a good guy, believing this person was the one truly “loving” him and being “good” to him, forgetting all the while the protection his parents had given him since childhood.
This was wrong inducement.
Xi Yue’s eyes were like stones frozen cold by ice, and he let out a light laugh, which in the summer night felt somewhat chilly. “And you? What did you give him?”
“Your indifference when he was enthusiastic, or your neglect when he was trying to please you?” The corner of his lips curled up. “How strange. When he liked you, you couldn’t see him. Now that he doesn’t like you, you want him all the more.”
“You think Yu Qing really likes you? Keep dreaming. How old was he when he first met you?”
Shang Ling’s expression shifted slightly; Xi Yue knew he had struck Shang Ling’s blind spot of pain that could not be ignored.
“A child at that age has nothing and understands nothing, but back then, you were at the most dazzling period of your life. He was attracted by your talent, worshiped your scholarship, and the age gap made him develop a favorable impression of you. You thought that was liking—was that right?”
“He was merely fond of someone older than him who wasn’t in the same age bracket. It gives him an illusion, an illusion that his love is unique.”
“Childhood sweethearts? An older brother figure? Nothing more than the exploitation of the young by the elder, an unequal relationship.”
Xi Yue was skilled at observation, allowing him to pierce straight into Shang Ling’s hidden concerns with ease.
That poised and self-controlled face could finally no longer be maintained. The muscles in Shang Ling’s face cracked inch by inch, his gaze instantly turning terrifying, his suit-clad chest heaving continuously like a successfully angered leopard.
He flew into a rage out of humiliation: “Then what about you? Xi Yue, you want him desperately yet can’t have him, which is why you’ve turned into a paranoid lunatic.”
In truth, a long, long time ago, Shang Ling had noticed that Yu Qing’s gaze toward him wasn’t quite right.
Yet he had only considered it to be admiration, an upward glance toward an elder, and even if it carried a bit of other emotion, it was being misled by appearances.
He hadn’t expected Yu Qing to persist in his liking for him for all these years, feeling both pleasantly surprised and panicked.
What if this wasn’t liking or love, but a pure obsession?
Or perhaps reluctance to let go?
The moment he saw Xi Yue kissing Yu Qing, that anxiety reached its peak.
In official business, Shang Ling could analyze things with clear logic;
In matters of the heart, he was entirely clueless.
Shang Ling believed that romance was pure and sacred. When they experienced every single first together, it was also a process of walking hand in hand to experience life.
During that process, body and soul belonged exclusively to each other, entirely belonging to one another.
Yet he had witnessed with his own eyes Yu Qing being defiled—Xi Yue had actually kissed Yu Qing, and even while Yu Qing was fast asleep. That was molestation!
Originally, Shang Ling had a hundred ways to make Xi Yue pay for it, but he chose to swallow his anger and bear it. He didn’t want to tell anyone, and least of all wanted to tell Yu Qing.
As long as he didn’t speak of it, no one would know that Xi Yue had taken advantage of someone in a vulnerable state.
He could pretend he hadn’t seen it, could treat that kiss as if it had never happened, and by then he would still be able to experience many firsts alongside Yu Qing.
Shang Ling could accept this accident concerning Yu Qing.
It was merely an accident, because Yu Qing’s consciousness had been unclear and unaware; Yu Qing was the victim.
Shang Ling gradually calmed down. Xi Yue’s attack was indeed effective, but it was effective only to that extent.
He was confident, powerful, and simultaneously possessed Yu Qing’s youthful infatuation—his advantage was simply too vast.
He couldn’t be bothered to argue with a person like Xi Yue.
“You want to get him, but can you afford to raise him? Do you know how expensive it is to raise him?” Shang Ling said in a low, flat tone. “Contributing nothing yet wanting to reap the rewards without working. On what grounds? On the strength of his momentary fancy for you, or on the ugly state of you acting docile in front of him and playing a pet dog?”
He said coldly, “He was not born to live a life of hardship with you.”
If it were the past, Shang Ling would never have attacked Xi Yue over such a matter.
Although his family background was elite, he loathed privileged young scions who possessed a sense of superiority.
Yet he loathed this base man to the extreme, constantly sowing discord in front of Yu Qing, putting on a weak posture where anyone could bully him, and seeking Yu Qing’s shelter.
Gentle as a sheep in front of Yu Qing, yet showing no concealment of his aggressiveness and baring the sharpest, fiercest fangs in front of him.
The reason Yu Qing refused to go home with him was definitely because Xi Yue was meddling behind the scenes.
Xi Yue’s silence made Shang Ling find it laughable.
He occasionally heard high-society gossip about how many people threw away their dignity and self-respect, making a huge uproar just to marry into wealth and scramble to become masters above others.
He usually just listened in passing, but now such a thing was happening right beside him, making him exceptionally disgusted.
Why would there be such a person overestimating his own capabilities, and just who gave Xi Yue the courage to make him think they had the capital to contend with one another?
“What can you give him?” he asked.
“Your love, which nobody would want even if it were tossed on the street, acting like garbage?”
Xi Yue was not someone who swallowed his anger in silence. Besides, since Yu Qing wasn’t around, he had no need to hold back.
Yet, seeing something, the lips he had just parted paused, pressing tightly into a straight line.
Compared to Yu Qing’s disheveled clothes, Shang Ling’s tailored designer suit didn’t have a single wrinkle, overall looking elegant and poised just like his superior appearance.
He turned his body slightly sideways, the moonlight illuminating his profile clearly.
Moreover, to let Xi Yue see more clearly, he moved his neck as if casually, exposing a vibrant bite mark on the side of his neck.
He even deliberately exposed the half of his face that had been slapped, like a provocation, like a declaration of war.
Even more like showing off.
His expression was extremely calm, exuding the poised confidence accumulated by those in high positions over the years.
Yet all his actions conveyed a single message: showing off the mark left on his body by Yu Qing, like a brand.
And also as if saying—
Look, my slap mark is deeper than yours, and heavier too.
So he likes me more.
They were both men; nobody understood the baseness of men better than other men.
Knowing where an attack hurt the most, knowing where to strike hardest.
Shang Ling added: “You two shouldn’t have intersected in the first place. It was because I was indifferent to him that he started looking for a plaything to pass the time and dispel his loneliness.”
His voice was deep and mellow, his tone exceedingly steady, like broadcasting a news piece that had been repeatedly verified countless times.
“You are nothing more than a substitute for me, a momentary whim to adjust his mood.”
…
Before the car drove away, Xi Yue departed first, searching for Yu Qing’s whereabouts.
Sure enough, Yu Qing had gotten lost on the campus grounds, but because he didn’t want to ask Xi Yue for help, he hadn’t sent Xi Yue a message, instead lowering his head to search the navigation himself and walking according to the route shown on it.
Yet he naturally lacked a sense of direction; even following the navigation, he still took the wrong turn.
Seeing Xi Yue approach, his anxiously fluctuating inner self calmed down slightly. He put away his phone, lifted his chin high, and reverted to his spoiled, bad-tempered young master persona.
Xi Yue walked alongside him, and as the two of them threaded into a dark, dim path, Xi Yue suddenly pressed down on his shoulders, spinning him around.
The instant Yu Qing looked up, his collar was also yanked down, a button falling to the ground due to the rough treatment.
More than half of his chest was exposed, his hollowed collarbone looked sexy, and a vast expanse of white leaped into view.
It was evident that this young master of the Yu family had been exceptionally well-pampered—tender-skinned and delicate, where the slightest bit of force would leave a faint pink mark before gradually returning to white.
He was also simple to a fault, having been taken advantage of yet still asking with a bewildered and uncomprehending expression: “What are you doing?”
The moonlight illuminated his face, the night breeze blowing moisture into his eyes, giving off a hazy kind of aesthetic beauty.
Yu Qing’s brows twitched slightly, his lips parting a little as he looked up, his cold eyes carrying just the right amount of incomprehension—
completely unaware of how bizarre the other person’s behavior was.
Xi Yue’s gaze swept lightly across, pulling a band-aid from his pocket, pressing his hand against the scraped skin and roughly measuring the location.
Yu Qing had a small wound on his chest, and he automatically attributed the culprit to summer mosquitoes.
He had worn a band-aid back in the art studio, but after it got soaked by water stained with paint, finding it uncomfortable, he had ripped it off.
Afterward, he kept moving his shoulders from time to time, clearly extremely bothered by the friction of the fabric.
Seeing his bewildered expression, Xi Yue tore open the packaging, pasted it over Yu Qing’s scraped skin, and pressed down firmly with his thumb across the surface to make it stick more securely.
The calloused fingertip brushed unceremoniously over the soft skin, causing Yu Qing to cry out in surprise, carrying a low, soft nasal tone.
As soon as he finished crying out, his little face froze, and realizing that the sweet-sounding voice had come from himself, his brows twitched again, impatiently swatting away Xi Yue’s hand.
His wrist was instead grasped in reverse, and Xi Yue stroked the inner side of his wrist with patience and meticulous care: “Young master, your clothes and hair are all a mess, let me tidy them up for you.”
His expression lapsed once more into a sort of ignorant bewilderment, his brows twitching, looking thoroughly confused yet somewhat fascinated.
Xi Yue had figured it out long ago: Yu Qing did not resist similar intimate behaviors.
Perhaps because he was overly protected, or perhaps because he was spoiled, anything that made him comfortable was something he liked and would want.
Of course, the premise was that the timing was right, a reasonable motivation was fabricated, and Yu Qing was not made to feel violated.
However, Xi Yue quickly released Yu Qing’s wrist; the abruptly halted sensation didn’t feel very good.
His shoulders trembled slightly, his knuckles curling inward unconsciously, opening a crack in his lips as he looked up blankly at the person, looking somewhat perplexed and puzzled—why wasn’t he pressing anymore?
It had clearly felt so comfortable being pressed.
Ignoring the clear confusion in his eyes, Xi Yue threaded his fingers through Yu Qing’s soft hair, smoothing out the messy spots. The strands slipped between his fingers, naturally emanating a faint fragrance.
He accidentally brushed against Yu Qing’s earlobe, causing the petite earlobe to quiver.
Giving it a slight pinch without exerting any real force, the earlobe flushed like a ripe red pomegranate, excessively vivid.
Truly unable to withstand being trifled with.
Xi Yue pulled open the collar, the crisscrossing marks underneath branding themselves into his field of vision like a hot iron.
Recalling Shang Ling’s words from earlier, the fingertips gripping the collar ignited with a heat named anger, his gaze briefly plunging into a frozen, frigid chill.
Yet he quickly composed his expression, pulling back Yu Qing’s folded-in collar.
Carefully smoothing out the wrinkles and fastening the buttons, he blocked all the traces he didn’t wish to see.
Under Xi Yue’s attentive care, Yu Qing returned to his previous pretty appearance once again.
…
When the two of them arrived at the night market, Li Wu had already secured a table in advance. Knowing Yu Qing liked cleanliness, she had wiped down the table and chairs beforehand.
She apologized to Yu Qing first: “Sorry for making you wait so long for nothing. Clearly you were helping me out, but it ended up making you wait for me instead.”
Yu Qing shook his head; it was Li Wu who had been rear-ended, and the blame belonged solely to the person who caused the accident.
Although he hated waiting for people, as long as the other party’s attitude in apologizing was sincere and the explanation provided was reasonable, he wouldn’t throw a tantrum.
What he hated most were people who made mistakes yet stubbornly insisted they were in the right, forcefully making up excuses for themselves.
Li Wu had already ordered the food. The meat skewers on the iron plate hissed over the charcoal fire, the meaty aroma blending with salt and pepper seasonings to become even more savory and mouthwatering, making one’s appetite soar.
Yu Qing swallowed hard, reaching out to grab one, but the iron plate was taken away.
Xi Yue scraped the meats and vegetables off the bamboo skewers, neatly placing them onto a separate ceramic plate before pushing the plate over to Yu Qing.
Yu Qing picked up his chopsticks and eagerly began to eat.
Li Wu couldn’t help laughing, her eyes falling on the red marks on the side of Yu Qing’s neck, and then looking at Yu Qing’s lips, which were abnormally red with even some slight abrasions.
The gaze she cast toward Xi Yue was full of interrogation.
“It wasn’t me.” Xi Yue almost wished it had been.
Xi Yue’s expression was calm, though his gaze was cold. Li Wu froze for a moment, then nodded: “That’s true. If it were you, you probably would have gotten sick of him long ago.”
“…” That word choice was too interesting; Xi Yue repeated, “Sick of him?”
“Isn’t that right?” Li Wu propped her chin in her hand, lazily saying, “Senior, things you can’t get are always the ones that attract you more.”
Xi Yue only lowered his head and smiled, turning his head sideways to watch Yu Qing holding a glass bowl in both hands to drink mung bean soup.
Perhaps sensing his gaze, Yu Qing glared fiercely at him before lowering his head to continue drinking soup.
So cute.
Yu Qing didn’t notice at all that he was still being peeked at, sending a piece of mutton chunk into his lips.
A mouthful of meaty juices burst forth between his teeth, the plump, crispy meat melting on the tongue. The seasonings enriched the texture with a powerful aftertaste.
Delicious!
Yu Qing frowned and stuck out a tiny sliver of his tongue—it was too spicy, though.
Yu Qing’s palate was light; this level of food was overly stimulating for him.
He casually grabbed a cup from the side, failing to notice that it belonged to Xi Yue.
Tilting his head back to gulp it down, the liquid slid unbuffered down his throat, bringing a spicy, burning stinging sensation.
This was the beer gifted by the owner.
Yu Qing had never touched alcohol before; once he finished drinking it, his tongue right down to his throat went numb, which, mixed with the spiciness, made his whole body feel like it was burning up.
Wanting to breathe heavily, he kept his pride intact and refrained from doing so, holding it in tightly as his shoulders trembled under the pressure.
When his face was lifted up by Xi Yue, his entire face and eyes were wet and red, looking utterly pitiful.
Xi Yue froze for a moment, his usually calm and indifferent face briefly blanking out, his gaze locked unblinkingly.
His lips were rendered glossy and bright by the beer, and his already full mouth looked as though a thin layer of rouge had been smeared across it, even more…