Chapter 62

“…Oh.”

Lin Jianxi responded softly and slowly went upstairs.

He didn’t even glance at Pei Jin’s reaction. All the gentle responses and gazes from before were mere instincts deep in his bones; in reality, he was truly exhausted and sleepy.

He wanted to sleep.

The room had a large bed. Lin Jianxi set his backpack on the sofa, then took a spare quilt from the closet and placed it on the left side of the bed.

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open. Pei Jin ruffled his hair and glanced at him.

“Hey, what’s really going on between you and Chu Ran?”

“Chu Ran?” Lin Jianxi repeated.

System: “Chu Ran is Fu Jinshen’s adopted son.”

“…”

He surprisingly hadn’t known about this.

“I’ve never met him, so… we’re sort of family, I guess.”

“The way he looks at you is more than just family.”

Lin Jianxi unfolded the quilt—suddenly, his wrist was gripped hard.

“We’re sleeping in the same bed?” Pei Jin narrowed his eyes slightly.

Due to the sudden force, Lin Jianxi swayed a bit as he was tugged. He looked up: “If you’re uncomfortable with it, I can sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not that pretentious.”

“Oh.”

Lin Jianxi didn’t struggle; he simply tilted his head back, calmly meeting Pei Jin’s perpetually irritated gaze.

Under the light, his pupils were a very pale color, like transparent amber, clearly reflecting Pei Jin’s impatient image.

According to the system, Pei Jin had once been a cheerful young man. Turning into this must mean he’d been utterly disillusioned by reality—

A sudden pain shot through his wrist.

Lin Jianxi frowned. Pei Jin’s grip tightened slightly. Just as Lin Jianxi opened his mouth to speak, Pei Jin said: “Looks like you’ve been through some unpleasant things too.”

“…”

Lin Jianxi followed Pei Jin’s gaze to his own hand.

The back of that hand, under the light, faintly revealed a circular old scar, slightly lighter than the surrounding skin.

His hand was shielded by their two bodies on either side, a camera blind spot.

But Lin Jianxi still lowered his lashes and yanked his hand free from Pei Jin’s grasp.

That scar was one he’d burned into himself with a cigarette in his previous life.

Those memories weren’t pleasant; Lin Jianxi had no desire to dwell on them.

He simply said: “Let’s sleep. I’m beat.”

With that, he lay down on the bed, burrowed into the quilt, and reached out to turn off the bedside lamp on his side.

Then he tucked his hand under the covers.

Pei Jin stood by his bedside for a long while without leaving.

Lin Jianxi didn’t care. Not to mention they were on camera—even off-camera, it wouldn’t faze him.

He’d been through it all, grown accustomed to everything. Even if Pei Jin intended some revenge, it wouldn’t scare him.

In his haze, Pei Jin turned off the main light.

Darkness swallowed everything in an instant.

Silence amplified.

Their breathing became distinctly audible to each other.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. Lin Jianxi knew it was Fu Jinshen calling; he ignored it and hung up directly.

A touch of distance was necessary to make Fu Jinshen obey him.

Among them all, Fu Jinshen was still the hardest to control. Protecting Fu Jinshen’s career meant securing the man’s absolute dominance.

A man with absolute power wouldn’t yield easily. Lin Jianxi was certain Fu Jinshen loved him, but equally certain the man wouldn’t be fully honest or heed every piece of advice.

The mattress dipped.

Pei Jin lay down beside him.

Time passed—he seemed to drift off, yet not quite.

Lin Jianxi was exhausted, but his sleep was uneasy. Pei Jin’s breathing was heavy, clearly still awake; faint tapping of nails on a screen told Lin Jianxi the man was fiddling with his phone.

In his drowsiness, he rolled over.

Someone grasped his wrist, holding for a moment.

Then gently tucked his hand into the warm quilt, as if to conceal it.

…The scar.

Lin Jianxi thought.

To keep the cameras from seeing his wound…?

“…”

Fatigue crashed over him like a tide. Lin Jianxi’s consciousness blurred, plunging into deep sleep—adrift and sinking, fragmented images weaving through his mind.

Gu Heng imprisoned, him forcibly confined at home, those days of being paraded around; Lin Xiaoye’s betrayal, the morning of corpses strewn everywhere; heat period striking, that month drowned in lust and desire…

And the day he realized he was utterly alone, that night in the corridor when he viciously pressed the cigarette butt into the back of his hand—

It hurt.

So much.

Lin Jianxi jolted awake in pain.

He shot up from the bed.

After a moment, he leaned against the headboard and exhaled.

No fear in his eyes—only exhaustion.

He gazed out the window; dawn was just breaking. The scar on his hand throbbed faintly. Years had passed, yet every dream brought the pain sharp enough to force him awake for relief.

Lin Jianxi rested a bit, then instinctively reached for his phone.

The instant he picked it up, he felt its heat and realized it was Pei Jin’s.

He glanced at Pei Jin sleeping beside him. Asleep, Pei Jin’s edge softened; traces of his former self emerged—a bright, sunny boy.

The phone was scorching; he’d clearly just set it down.

Only just fallen asleep?

He hadn’t even pulled up the covers, just lying there on his side, eyes closed.

Lin Jianxi understood the feeling.

He’d suffered insomnia too; when rare sleepiness finally came, he’d freeze, terrified of disturbing it.

**

Lin Jianxi quietly washed up, checking Fu Jinshen’s messages while brushing his teeth.

They were roughly about realizing his mistake, apologizing for the ignored calls, begging for forgiveness, and promising to behave next time.

Lin Jianxi typed back slowly.

—Mm

—Inconvenient to take calls during filming

No cameras in the bathroom; Lin Jianxi’s face relaxed into cool indifference.

He tidied the sink casually, then headed to the balcony for a smoke.

Meanwhile, Pei Jin stirred awake, spotting the quilt over him. He froze for a long moment before getting up, eyeing the slender figure silhouetted against the window.

Lin Jianxi noticed Pei Jin behind him and asked: “Did I wake you?”

Pei Jin seemed grouchy from sleep.

His hand slammed the balcony door shut with a “bang,” cutting off the bedroom’s omnidirectional surveillance cams.

The program team hadn’t placed any on the balcony—too likely to unsettle the neighbors.

Realization dawned on Lin Jianxi. “They dared to film me so openly last night because they knew I’d show up for this show?”

“Everyone knows,” Pei Jin said, holding out his hand. “Cigarette. Give me one.”

“Oh.”

Lin Jianxi handed him one and lit it with a flick.

Pei Jin glanced at the back of his hand. “Fu Jinshen do that?”

“No.” Lin Jianxi leaned against the railing, letting the breeze ruffle his hair as he squinted slightly. “I did it to myself.”

“Because of Fu Jinshen?”

Lin Jianxi couldn’t help but chuckle. “He’s not as bad as you think. At least he’s good to me.”

Pei Jin shot back, “Besides him, I can’t imagine anyone who could hurt you like that. It’s always been you hurting everyone else.”

“A lot of people have hurt me.” Lin Jianxi met Pei Jin’s gaze. “You might be one of them.”

“…”

The words laid bare Pei Jin’s darker intentions. He tugged at the corner of his mouth in a bitter smirk, going all in. “Lin Jianxi, everything I’ve achieved is fueled by my hatred for you lot. You walked right into my trap—don’t blame me for not going easy.”

“So, how do you plan to get revenge?” Lin Jianxi turned to face him squarely. “Spreading rumors, isolating me, tripping me up—that’s all on camera. Beatings, threats, forcing me—that’s off camera. Which do you prefer? On camera, you’ve got the fans and the influence. Off camera, we share a room. Easy to do whatever you want.”

“I…”

“—Can you actually go through with it?” Lin Jianxi asked with a smile.

The words caught in Pei Jin’s throat.

Lin Jianxi’s smile was faint, his tone almost gentle, as if they were just chatting about the weather.

But that casual indifference made Pei Jin feel like the man before him was all too accustomed to pain. The scar on his hand, the body hidden under his clothes… was it covered in wounds? No wonder he handled these “revenge” threats with such ease.

Pei Jin zoned out for a second, then lowered his head and took a deep drag.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” His voice came out hoarse. “You think you’re some kind of delicacy everyone’s after?”

“When it comes to revenge, maybe I am.” Lin Jianxi laughed at himself. “Feels like I’m always atoning for something.”

For his husband, for the original host—or like in the last world, for all humanity.

“…”

Pei Jin spoke abruptly. “That on your neck… under the bandage. A scar too?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“Hating someone takes a toll,” Lin Jianxi said suddenly, his voice soft, nearly lost in the wind. “Especially when they’re not worth all that emotion. Nights of insomnia just hurt you more—what good does it do?”

Pei Jin’s fingers, pinching the cigarette, trembled almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve been a wreck before. I’ve fought back. In the end, I chose the path of least resistance for myself: don’t bottle it up, don’t explode. Just follow your heart, and things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

Pei Jin stared at him.

The cigarette burned shorter, but Pei Jin made no move to smoke it. He just kept watching.

“So.” Lin Jianxi continued, “What do you want?”

Pei Jin fell silent for a moment before concluding, frowning. “Fu Jinshen forced you? You had no choice but to marry him?”

“…”

“Makes sense.” Pei Jin’s eyes swept over his body. “You do look like the type who’d get hit on for favors.”

“…”

“With all those injuries, I bet it’s not just him who’s tried.”

“…” Lin Jianxi tugged at his mouth again, still leaning on the railing, lashes lowered as if Pei Jin had struck a nerve.

The wind tugged at his clothes, outlining his slender frame.

A sudden pang of heartache flustered Pei Jin. He stepped forward, gripped Lin Jianxi’s shoulders, and forced him to straighten up.

“Heh, you want the spotlight? Then sleep with me too.”

Lin Jianxi regarded him coolly.

The next second, Pei Jin slowly undid the top three buttons of his shirt.

With each button, his grip loosened a fraction.

He didn’t fling the shirt open. Instead, he let the wind tease the collar apart just enough—

Bite marks, red welts, and traces from who knew what…

Pei Jin’s breath hitched.

Lin Jianxi smiled lightly. “Still interested?”

“…”

Pei Jin yanked his hand back. “Fuck! Who the hell is such a beast?!”

Lin Jianxi didn’t answer. He simply watched Pei Jin silently, his body shivering faintly from the chill wind seeping in.

The breeze picked up, laying those ambiguous, brutal marks bare in the sunlight, silently recounting a sordid past.

Pei Jin’s breathing grew heavy.

That blurted curse gave way to deeper fury and guilt.

Who was he to judge?

Lin Jianxi did draw hatred—undeniably. Back during the group formation, if he hadn’t slacked off alone, their popularity wouldn’t have tanked like that.

But no one deserved this.

In this industry, on-camera and off were two different worlds.

Marrying Fu Jinshen suddenly struck Pei Jin as a brilliantly savvy move.

His rage shifted—no longer solely at Lin Jianxi, but at everyone who’d left those marks. Even at himself, for his ignorance and harsh words.

Pei Jin raised his hand abruptly, pulling Lin Jianxi’s collar closed with a roughness bordering on tenderness.

His fingers shook slightly from the surge of emotion as he fumbled clumsily with the buttons.

As if covering it up could erase what he’d seen.

As if it could seal away the tangled pain in his chest.

“…”

Lin Jianxi lowered his gaze to those hands—adept at guitar and piano—now struggling with a simple button. He said nothing, didn’t move.

After a moment, he let out a soft laugh, gentle as ever.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” Lin Jianxi looked at Pei Jin, morning light reflected in his eyes, carrying a subtle, almost pitying tenderness. “Lots of people have hurt me, but you won’t be one of them.”

“…Why?” Pei Jin’s voice was parched.

“Because you reflect. You regret.” Lin Jianxi sighed. “Those others…”

He paused. “They seem only able to immerse themselves in plunder and desire—so cold. Sometimes I think that way. Aside from that, they know nothing, and… they don’t care about anything.”

~~~