“Meu amor.”
It was Portuguese, literally meaning “my love” or “my beloved.”
Perhaps to avoid being too straightforward.
What Bo Chengyan had said was more like “dear.” In the Chinese context, it didn’t exclusively refer to romantic love but encompassed a range of emotions.
“Meu amor…”
The youth couldn’t help tilting his head to imitate it, though his pronunciation wasn’t great. His voice was a touch thin, muffled by his hoarse throat.
It sounded somewhat seductive.
Qi Jing had barely tried a few times when Bo Chengyan scooped him up with one arm. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he lowered his gaze and tugged a blanket over him.
It just covered his waist and abdomen.
“Does it still hurt?”
Such intimate actions crossed boundaries.
But they were also the best way to deepen their bond.
Qi Jing vaguely sensed that something had changed. Shyly, he buried his face in the other’s shoulder, refusing to look up or reply.
The woody fragrance was intoxicating.
The shirt felt wonderful against his skin.
The youth’s tastes were simple and easy to grasp.
His slender fingers slipped along Bo Chengyan’s collar.
The insides of his thighs were still red. The medicine hadn’t done much good yet, and as he checked lower, he found scattered marks trailing downward.
The man paused.
Perhaps it was just his nature.
Something ingrained in his genes, unchangeable—possession and dominance were his default.
Qi Jing’s breath came hot against him, his body clean and supple. Unconsciously, he stretched out one leg.
His ankle was caught in a gentle grip—not tight, but firm enough that it didn’t let go.
It felt just like a shackle.
“I like you…”
Qi Jing clung to the man’s shoulders and back, eyes closed as he rested. His voice was thick and sticky.
[Don’t overthink it.]
[It’s just dating. I know how that works.]
[If he stops liking me, I’ll head to Harbor City. I’ll grow up.]
As if he were laying out his escape route in advance.
In an instant, Bo Chengyan’s hand clamped onto the back of Qi Jing’s neck, yanking him close. Only when those damp eyes met his did he regain his composure.
“What’s wrong?”
The youth didn’t struggle. His arms stayed looped around Bo Chengyan’s shoulders and back.
Bo Chengyan spoke evenly. “When you graduate, we’ll get married.”
Qi Jing froze.
It was something he had never even considered.
In his understanding from school, the path from a crush to liking someone to dating… to marriage was distant, almost unreachable.
His expression went blank.
He shook his head.
“Gay people can’t get married.”
The societal norms Qi Jing had absorbed were traditional ones—and some of them, Bo Chengyan had taught him personally.
It was a narrow path, not the broad highway.
“We can.”
The words sounded calm, like a simple explanation, but beneath them lurked the pressure of an impending storm.
“Doesn’t Little Jing want to marry me?”
Qi Jing blinked, unaware that the question itself carried an implicit force. He just thought it over seriously for a moment.
“Why get married?”
Qi Jing didn’t understand. He added, “We can’t have babies.”
There was no need.
Under traditional Chinese values, “founding a family and a career” ran through everything. Founding a family meant building one—putting down roots, having heirs.
Times had changed, and DINK couples were becoming more common, but they were still rare in Qi Jing’s world.
He had always thought that for gay people, dating was enough.
Why bother with marriage?
The youth’s waist was slim, still encircled by Bo Chengyan’s arm. His eyes were pure and straightforward.
He truly didn’t get it.
“You don’t want to?”
Somehow, his emotions had become so easily stirred.
There was no escaping it.
Qi Jing shook his head again.
~~~
【What? Get married?】
996 shuddered as some thought struck it, declaring righteously:
【Absolutely not! You’re still so young. In human society, your twenties to thirties are the prime years—how could you get married?】
【All the data shows that women’s quality of life plummets after marriage, not to mention the irreversible damage from childbirth.】
Qi Jing sat on the bed, hugging a pillow in his slender arms. He felt a bit strange about it all.
He interrupted earnestly. “I’m not a girl. I can’t give birth.”
“I’m gay.”
His tone was utterly serious.
996 hovered in midair, stunned for a beat before continuing. 【Even without kids, it’s the same. There’s that old saying: marriage is the grave.】
Qi Jing bit his lip, lost in thought for a moment. Then something occurred to him. “What about the ones in Harbor City? Did Mr. Gu get married?”
996: 【……】
In the end, it had to concede the truth.
Yes, he did.
“I don’t get it. Why go abroad for a wedding? I’m not even a foreigner.”
“Why not just keep dating?”
There was a naive sort of cruelty in his words.
By now, it was already afternoon.
Qi Jing didn’t chat much longer with 996, because Bo Chengyan pushed the door open and came back in. The blue slime vanished on the spot.
It moved with incredible speed.
The youth blinked in surprise. It was acting like it was hiding.
A warm touch pressed against the back of his neck. Almost instinctively, Qi Jing reached out and let himself be lifted into the man’s arms.
Qi Jing asked, “What did you tell Auntie?”
Bo Chengyan’s nose was perfectly straight, like it had been sculpted from plaster with fluid, graceful lines.
Handsome.
That was the word for it.
Qi Jing leaned in naturally and kissed his chin, without a single stray thought.
“I told her you ran away from home because you were mad at me.”
Bo Chengyan’s tone was even, but when he glanced over, his expression was inscrutable.
“I… I can explain it to you…”
The man’s arm muscles were solid and steady as they supported him.
They had to leave for Macau soon—the departure was that evening. His eyes darkened.
He just couldn’t afford to drag this out any longer.
But his face remained composed.
“Go ahead.”
Qi Jing stammered through his explanation, though he was careful not to mention specifics like the place or time. He just said he’d gotten bored and the slime had taken him out.
“And Harbor City?”
The man asked casually, setting Qi Jing down on the woolen rug in front of the wardrobe. Qi Jing wobbled unsteadily. Tilting his head to answer, he grabbed at Bo Chengyan’s sleeve.
In the end, Bo Chengyan had to scoop him up by the waist.
Only then did his legs stop feeling like jelly.
“Wh-what Harbor City?”
His voice was sticky, equal parts nervous and wheedling.
Qi Jing wasn’t much of a liar—996 could vouch for that—but he was oblivious to it himself.
[I never mentioned it in front of him…]
“I’ll look into it.”
His tone was perfectly flat.
The youth’s heart started pounding. He panicked but had no idea how to handle it. Only when the buttons of his sleepshirt came undone did he snap back to reality.
“B-Bo Chengyan!”
His lips parted. Looking down from above, one could glimpse the tip of his tongue.
Bright and glossy red.
If he was too worn out, there would be no pulling back now.
The sensual image took vivid shape.
“Time to change your clothes.” Bo Chengyan said it without a flicker of expression.
The youth’s cheeks flushed bright red as he realized his mistake. He didn’t say anything more, though standing like that—waist held—was exhausting.
Qi Jing reached out at the right moment and slipped on a long-sleeved shirt before Bo Chengyan picked him up again.
“You’re getting good at saying my name.”
Bo Chengyan held him with one arm and measured the slender ankle with his eyes.
“Then what should I call you?”
Emboldened now.
Qi Jing nestled his cheek against the crook of the man’s neck, his voice muffled.
As Bo Chengyan carried him back to the bedside, he glanced at his wristwatch. Then came the words by his ear.
“Hubby?”
A curious test.
~~~
It was around six in the evening when a car pulled up outside the villa.
The weather was turning toward September.
It wasn’t so hot anymore.
Qi Jing tried taking a few steps in the bedroom, but he was utterly spent. His lower body felt like it had been run over by a truck.
His knees wouldn’t hold him up.
“You were too much just now.”
Bo Chengyan was dressed in a sharp suit, letting the young one wander the room freely until he finally took charge and lifted him into his arms.
His expression remained neutral.
“Mm.”
Qi Jing’s neck was damp where he’d been nuzzling. Now he was trying to bite.
Like an act of revenge.
But all it did was stir desire.
“We’ll do more once we’re back in Macau.”
Qi Jing froze, half-convinced it was a joke. But the man’s eyes were perfectly clear.
“I won’t bite anymore…”
He went utterly docile in an instant.
They took the stairs down. Qi Jing was draped in an oversized suit jacket. He glanced sideways at Auntie.
He opened his mouth to speak.
“Could you trouble yourself to watch the house for the next few days?”
The voice was steady, carrying more warmth than it had in days past.
Auntie blinked, as if suddenly understanding.
“It’s no trouble at all.”
The person in Bo Chengyan’s arms twisted around, hands still looped around his neck. In a muffled voice, he said:
“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m doing just fine.”
Qi Jing felt he owed her an apology. The suit jacket draped all the way down to cover his waist where he sat cradled in Bo Chengyan’s arm.
Not a bit of skin was showing.
“Then we’ll be off.”
A curt farewell, leaving no room for the youth to say more.
He was young, after all. The more he talked, the more holes he’d poke in his story.
~~~
Macau.
Qi Jing slept the whole way there, his features soft and peaceful as he leaned against Bo Chengyan’s chest.
He had no worries at all.
He hadn’t even dwelled on his refusal to marry.
Bo Chengyan’s expression remained indifferent as he cradled that slender white wrist in his palm. The ring finger was slim too, and he could feel the soft bones when he pinched it.
He hadn’t gained much weight.
I’m not taking good care of him.
They arrived at the Old Estate that night.
Lights blazed everywhere.
The house was filled with Bo Family members, all wearing ambiguous expressions.
The driver hurried around to open the car door. The Old Estate’s butler was already waiting at the entrance. When he saw Bo Chengyan step out, the butler lowered his eyes deferentially and said, “Mr. Bo, you’ve had a long journey.”
Bo Chengyan lifted his eyelids to glance at the scene inside the house. Casually, he asked, “Everyone’s here?”
“The Main House organized it. They said they wanted to welcome you back.”
His tone carried no bias—just an objective statement.
A wind had kicked up in the night.
“Quite sensible of them.”
He meant it literally.
Qi Jing was a little unhappy when Bo Chengyan lifted him out of the car. He raised his hand to loop it around the man’s shoulder and mumbled sullenly, “It’s so hot outside.”
He didn’t want to be draped in that suit jacket.
“Wait just a moment, okay?”
The youth fell silent, pressing himself against the suit jacket, and obediently closed his eyes again.
Bo Zhonglin had seven wives in total. The original Main House wife had been the principal spouse and Bo Chengyan’s birth mother. After her death, the Second House had taken over.
She had become the current “Main House.”
The later ones were women the old man had taken during the years he was still active. By the time Shen Nanzhi married in as the Fifth House wife, Bo Zhonglin was largely incapable of such things.
The Sixth and Seventh Houses had unclear origins. Nominally, they were the old man’s “wives,” but in truth, they were the “little wives” kept outside by the Main and Second Houses’ worthless sons.
They wanted to use their children as leverage to get through the door.
It could be considered a thriving family, at least.
“Ah Yan, you’re finally back. The journey must have been exhausting.” The Main House Madam, Cheng Yun, even rose from the sofa. She was dressed in a green qipao, looking dignified and polite.
Bo Chengyan had no time for her. His steps didn’t even pause.
The fingers of the person in his arms twitched slightly.
He was clearly awake now.
The suit jacket couldn’t cover his face. The young man simply buried his head.
Playing dead.
What hell dungeon was this?
Qi Jing’s foot arches tensed up completely. Bo Chengyan had even removed his shoes so he could sleep comfortably in the car.
He’d really turned into a little vixen.
[Don’t see me, don’t see me, don’t see me…]
Another voice rang out, shrill and feigning playfulness. “Who’s this? Was this child raised in the Capital City?”
“At least show your face.”
