Chapter 44: Lovers Part 1

Those words seemed to carry a chilling wind that blew straight into his neck, making it feel icy cold.

Chi Mo’s palm was clearly hot, but when it fully gripped the back of Li Ran’s neck, it inexplicably reminded him of Bai Wuchang being pinned down on her back by Hei Ge’s front paws, her neck held firmly in his mouth.

No matter how much the white cat struggled, she couldn’t escape Hei Ge’s cat jaws, left to rise and fall at his mercy.

Tonight, Hei Ge was particularly excited, calling out to his male wife one moment and patrolling around Li Ran the next. As long as the outsiders didn’t leave, he probably wouldn’t either. Li Ran felt just like the white cat, glancing guiltily at the majestic and imposing Hei Ge amid his brother’s sinister questioning.

Hei Ge opened his mouth and meowed impatiently at him, probably meaning: “What is it? Is that Chi guy messing with you? If you need help, just meow once, and I’ll scratch him to death right away!”

Of course, Li Ran wouldn’t meow back. Instead, he couldn’t help but zone out, thinking: “He rides his wife every day, but I’ve never seen him actually succeed. It’s so weird—male wives don’t even have anywhere for him to succeed, so why does he like it so much every day…”

“You really want to get beaten, huh?” Chi Mo suddenly pinched him hard. “What are you thinking about while staring at your cat? Am I not enough for you to think about? Hmm?”

“Ah… no…” Li Ran let out a low cry, twisting his body to reach for Chi Mo’s hand, begging him to let go. “I’m thinking about you, bro—really thinking about you…”

From an outsider’s perspective, the two had been whispering privately, automatically blocking out everyone else, with a relaxed atmosphere and even a touch of warmth that no one else could intrude upon. Then, somehow, Li Ran must have said something that suddenly ignited Chi Mo’s anger. His face turned cold as he pressed Li Ran down.

Li Ran’s body immediately tilted awkwardly from side to side, the pillow in his arms rolling to the floor. His head nearly buried itself in Chi Mo’s chest as he clung to his arm, pleading softly. If Li Ran had fought back fiercely, it might have looked like they were about to throw punches.

Chi Wei’s heart skipped a beat as he watched.

He had come here today, aside from Chi Jin Xuan’s request, mainly to mend his strained father-son relationship with his son.

Chi Mo had always been decisive from a young age, knowing exactly what he wanted and what he didn’t, never ambiguous.

Back in middle school, he had caught sight of Li Ran by chance and from then on watched him obsessively, like a beautiful butterfly under observation before being pinned as a specimen. He even kept some outrageous, spine-chilling records.

His notebook was filled with dense writing—how much like a damn pervert.

Kids didn’t understand love back then.

He surely did now, right?

He had finally gotten close to Li Ran and drawn him into the giant web he had meticulously woven.

While pushing his parents further and further away.

Chi Wei frowned, recalling the family gathering during Chinese New Year when the old man had said to him: “You still haven’t patched things up with your son? He’s been a promising talent since childhood—Chi Wei spotted it early. But you and your wife are blind as bats, not nurturing him properly and just stirring up trouble instead. Who else would he resent if not you two? If you don’t win him back soon, he’ll really end up as Chi Wei’s kid.”

Then the old man had joked: “Chi Wei has no wife but has a kid. You have a wife but no kid. Heh, you and your wife deserve full credit for things turning out like this.”

Now, seeing Chi Mo apparently angry at Li Ran with a cold face, looking like they might fight, he felt things might turn around.

People always preferred the new over the old. Once grown and obtaining the obsession of childhood, the distance no longer bred beauty—instead, ugliness surged from all sides, and that initial fixation was nothing special.

Qi Shan hurriedly advised, “Talk it out properly—why resort to hands…”

Cheng Ai Mei heard the worry in her tone, as if it were a real fight, and rolled her eyes without understanding her own son. “Take another good look. Where’s the fighting? The kids are just playing around.”

“Exactly, exactly,” Ye Ze chimed in.

Qi Zhi said sourly, “A’Dai and his cousin have such a good relationship.”

Chi Wei had long disliked Chi Mo and suppressed the venomous words on the tip of his tongue. Impatiently, he said, “What does this look like in front of outsiders? If you’re going to mess around, take it to your room.”

“Good. Good night, everyone.” Chi Mo had probably been waiting for those words. Without another word, he stood up, keeping his grip on Li Ran’s neck while yanking his arm with the other hand, pulling him crashing into his chest. Half-holding, half-dragging his “hostage” in a dominant lock, he headed upstairs without looking back.

Li Ran didn’t even have a chance to resist half a bit. He stumbled after him, nearly stepping on Chi Mo’s feet twice, panic in his voice as he called out, “Bro… Bro…”

As soon as the bedroom door closed, Li Ran summoned some unknown burst of strength, twisting himself like a top for two spins before slamming his entire back against the door with a thud. He solidly guarded his butt, facing forward.

At the same time, he slipped both hands behind him. Without even flipping him over, Chi Mo knew he was covering his ass and chuckled lowly.

Li Ran pouted. “I don’t want to get beaten… Don’t hit me… Please…”

Chi Mo stopped laughing.

He pinched Li Ran’s chin, steadying his breath and pulling his nearly raging, chaotic thoughts back on track with some effort. “How much have you remembered about me?”

Li Ran said weakly, “Noth… Nothing.”

“When did I add you?”

Li Ran felt guilty. “I… don’t remember.”

“Will you remember in the future?” Chi Mo was so angry he wanted to die—or kill the heartless little thing. He gritted his teeth. “Huh?”

Li Ran felt ashamed. With his chin held, he couldn’t lower his head, so his eyes obediently dropped. He didn’t even dare promise, dejected. “…I don’t know.”

“So why shouldn’t you get beaten?”

“I…”

“Should you get beaten?”

“…Yes.”

“Mm, good boy.” Chi Mo’s mood smoothed out considerably. He let go and said calmly, “Turn around yourself.”

Li Ran let out a low whine, looking like he still wanted to protest. But after racking his brains for a while, he couldn’t find where he had gone wrong or any excuse for himself.

It was like an open-book exam. Chi Mo had already told him they knew each other, even specifying the time and place. Li Ran just needed to flip through his memories. But not only had he failed to find the right answer, he’d filled the paper with “skipped” and even brazenly told the examiner “I don’t know!” A page full of red X’s—he definitely deserved punishment.

Before reluctantly turning around, dragging his feet, Li Ran gripped the door with both hands, positioning himself for Chi Mo to strike easily. He pitied himself inwardly, sadly thinking: “If only I hadn’t said that thing about adding contact info when bro first returned… Everyone else runs from pits, but I dig one and jump in…”

Li Ran’s body suddenly jolted.

Chi Mo had spanked him once.

It was right then that Li Ran lightning-fast recalled the name Chi Mo.

It was the first year after his mom Bai Qingqing had remarried. Li Ran was fourteen, and he had prepared himself to live with his mom and Uncle Zhao, secretly thrilled and expectant deep down.

But in his interactions with the adults, his sensitive heart told him Uncle Zhao didn’t like him much. He wanted a child that belonged to him and his mom. If Li Ran were little, just a few years old, Zhao Zeyang might have been willing to like and get close to him. But Li Ran was already a teenager, with his worldview mostly formed. He had his own parents and wouldn’t treat an outsider as his father. Zhao Zeyang didn’t want to waste effort, which Li Ran understood.

So the penniless but sensible child volunteered to stay in the rental his parents had once shared with him, showing no sadness at all.

In that moment of emptiness, as if abandoned by the whole world, WeChat pinged with a friend request from an unknown contact.

The verification message:

[I’m Chi Mo.]

Li Ran didn’t talk to strangers. That was the first time he accepted a friend request from one—a complete act of whimsy.

Maybe he just desperately wanted to talk to someone then, to confirm his tenuous connection to the world.

[Do you still remember me?]

[I lived here a few years ago.]

[I’m Chi Mo.]

I’m Chi Mo. I’m Chi Mo. I’m Chi Mo.

That was the intro in the verification, and the same in the chat after accepting. Poor Li Ran had a slow brain and regularly cleared out old memories. He couldn’t recall who Chi Mo was and only sensed from the first two sentences an attempt to get familiar.