Chapter 76: Hard Not to Overthink

A Yi’s hand was just about to pull back when Cheng Yedu seized his wrist with a vise-like grip.

Cheng Yedu gritted his teeth. “Show some respect.”

“Respect?” A Yi laughed. “You think I’m with the Academy Faction, that I have to play by this world’s rules? Respecting you or not is my call in an instant. If I feel like it, I will. If not, I won’t. Does toeing your line lead to a happy ending?”

A Yi shook off Cheng Yedu’s hand. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Take a look at these prisoners. The ones having the worst time are the idiots who follow the rules. Rule-followers—except for types like you with your bloodline perks—the rest? Ha. Either dead or broken.”

Cheng Yedu stood up too. “So breaking the rules gets you a happy ending? Life without parole—that’s your happy ending?”

“…” A Yi stepped closer, locking eyes with Cheng Yedu and murmuring, “You’ll find out soon enough what I mean by a happy ending. Be patient. I haven’t had my fun yet.”

“You—”

“Quiet down.” Lin Jianxi slid out of bed and positioned himself between them.

Their exchange hadn’t spelled everything out, but Lin Jianxi had pieced together the plot with nine parts out of ten accuracy.

It boiled down to this: Cheng Yedu, the stickler for rules who always did things by the book, had directly or indirectly caused the death of A Yi’s father—who had also played by those rules. So A Yi had thrown the rulebook out the window, determined to use dirty tricks to drag Cheng Yedu down.

He turned first to Cheng Yedu. “I bet you’re not totally sold on the rule-following life either. Otherwise, why sneak off to bars all the time? And let’s be real—who actually wants to clock in for work?”

Then he faced A Yi. “Cheng Yedu might hold a high post, but he’s just a cog in the machine. There are bosses above him. You hate the rules, and he’s only enforcing them because his superiors demand it. He’s the bullet-catcher. You think he’d have the power to say no if they ordered him to act?”

Finally, Lin Jianxi settled back onto the bed. “You two—the real enemy isn’t each other. It’s the ones who wrote the rules.”

“…”

“…………”

Lin Jianxi eyed A Yi, whose face had abruptly grown somber, and pressed on. “You plan to use Cheng Yedu as your battering ram against the higher-ups. Then, once he’s burned himself out, you step into his spot. You really think those big shots will hand you the keys without a fight? The rules are what lock in their ironclad power and fortunes. Some rogue operator like you climbs the ladder? They’ll freak. They’ll pull every string to erase you and safeguard their empires.”

“…”

Lin Jianxi: “Say something, A Yi.”

Cheng Yedu glanced at A Yi. “He’s talking to you. Gone mute?”

A Yi met his gaze and smirked faintly. “New tactic? The happy couple going for mind games now?”

“I’m not part of this,” Lin Jianxi said with a helpless sigh. “Just mull over if what I said holds water. Spending life in here? Better to hunt for an exit. This place is a dump. Cheng Yedu, right? The world beyond the island’s paradise compared to this. Sure, the tech and modernity match the outside… but otherwise? What’s it got over a stone-age tribe?”

In the two years he’d shared a life with Cheng Yedu, Lin Jianxi had heard him vent countless times about wanting to quit. But his family had deep roots in the organization, generations entangled in a web of connections. Walking away wasn’t simple, so he’d stuck it out.

Cheng Yedu dropped down beside him. “Don’t waste breath on him. Dogs don’t get human talk.”

Lin Jianxi let out a laugh. “Your tongue’s vicious today.”

“Truth hurts.” Cheng Yedu draped an arm over his shoulder, crossing his legs with the smug poise of the queen consort. “Does he strike you as the comprehending type?”

A Yi didn’t rise to the bait. Humming a tune, he sauntered to his bunk, fired up his phone, and took to idly twisting the earphone cord around his finger—stealing glances at Lin Jianxi every few seconds.

Hinting at last night all over again…

“Fuck,” Cheng Yedu muttered. “Is this guy baiting me?”

Lin Jianxi wanted to point out that A Yi was baiting him too…

Headache.

~~~

After Cheng Yedu departed, the other cellmates trickled back in. Sun Wei was utterly deflated; he crawled straight under his covers and went dead silent.

Lin Jianxi headed to the bathroom to rinse an apple and bumped into Sun Wei at the sink.

He spotted the fresh bruise on the man’s face.

Sun Wei muttered while scrubbing his hands. “Types like you? They get all the love in prison.”

“…What type is that?”

Sun Wei shot him a mocking look. “The straight-arrow loser with zero social game. The office wallflower nobody bothers with. The spineless type who can’t even hold eye contact mid-sentence.”

Lin Jianxi’s hands stilled on the apple.

He shut off the faucet, fixed Sun Wei with his gaze, and advanced slowly, one step at a time.

“What’re you doing?”

Sun Wei backpedaled in sync. With the sink still gushing behind him, Lin Jianxi pinned him against the wall.

Lin Jianxi regarded him coolly.

Sun Wei locked eyes with that icy stare, jolted inside, and jerked his gaze away.

Lin Jianxi methodically dried the apple with a paper towel. “Sun Wei, don’t the ‘types like me’ you’re describing sound exactly like you right now?”

“…”

The words hit like lightning, yanking Sun Wei from his stupor. His head snapped up, pupils quaking.

Lin Jianxi leaned in with a soft smile. “Zero social game… nobody gives you the time of day. Can’t even look me in the eye when you talk. Hmm? Spot on, isn’t it?”

“…”

Lin Jianxi: “How’s that feel?”

“…” Sun Wei glared daggers, tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, body quivering with rage.

Lin Jianxi: “What’d a type like that ever do wrong? Think back. From day one in prison, what mistake did you make to deserve this?”

Sun Wei froze in place, mouth working but no words coming for ages.

Eventually, Lin Jianxi polished off the little apple. No sense lingering; it was getting chilly.

“You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.” He flicked a glance at Sun Wei. “That ‘me’ from before? Nothing wrong either.”

With that, Lin Jianxi chucked the core into the trash and strode out of the bathroom.

The fruit pit landed in the trash bag with a faint clatter, jolting Sun Wei back to his senses. He stared at Lin Jianxi’s back as he bent down to set the aromatherapy diffuser in place, and at A Yi’s gaze, brimming with undisguised affection. Sun Wei knew he was finished.

Everything that had once befallen “Lin Jianxi” was now about to happen to him. And there was no way to defend himself—just like it had been for “Lin Jianxi” back then.

Because he truly hadn’t done anything wrong.

…Or perhaps he had.

Sun Wei’s face drained of color.

He had been the one to provoke Lin Jianxi first.

That made it even more impossible to argue his case.

He was utterly doomed.

~~~

As evening drew near, his cellmates trickled out one by one to eat, leaving only him and A Yi behind in the prison.

Lin Jianxi had just emerged from the bathroom when A Yi blocked his path at the door. “Where’s my reward?”

Lin Jianxi leaned against the wall and crooked a finger at him.

A Yi bent his neck low, and Lin Jianxi seized his collar, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He pried open those lips next, his tongue delving deep to tangle with the other’s.

A Yi was nothing like the people he’d kissed before. He froze up at first, even blushing with shyness. But the excitement quickly took over, and he began mimicking Lin Jianxi’s techniques and rhythm. In under two minutes, he’d seized control, pinning Lin Jianxi firmly against the wall and kissing him with loud, wet smacks.

Lin Jianxi’s mouth went numb from the suction. He let out a soft hum and shoved at A Yi’s chest.

But that only ignited him further—the kisses grew fiercer, and his hands started wandering…

~~~

“No…” Lin Jianxi twisted his head away from A Yi’s kiss, gripping his wrist and meeting his eyes. “We can’t.”

“Got it.” A Yi kissed his neck instead, grinning. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Lin Jianxi: “…”

…

Lin Jianxi: “Did you understand what I told you today?”

… A Yi’s movements stilled for a moment, then he let out a soft chuckle. He said nothing, and yet it felt like he’d said it all.

~~~

Lin Jianxi bit the edge of his pillow, riding out the final tremors as he whispered shakily, “From now on… when I’m asleep, stay quiet. You’re too loud.”

A Yi was like a child who’d just scored a piece of candy, lavishing kisses over every inch of his body, unable to get enough.

“Next time you’re asleep, I’ll tape my mouth shut,” A Yi said, tilting his chin up to stare into his damp eyes. “Sound good? If that’s not enough, tie me up. And if I’m still too noisy, just slap me.”

“Mm…” Lin Jianxi nodded wearily. “Be quiet now. I’m exhausted.”

A Yi fell obediently silent.

Even in his dreams, Lin Jianxi vaguely heard A Yi instructing the returning cellmates to keep it down. The cell stayed hushed after that, without another sound.

For once in this prison, Lin Jianxi managed a full night’s sleep.

No interruptions. No nausea dragging him awake.

He still had plenty of nightmares, but it was enough to satisfy him.

Maybe he was just that worn out, he thought.

Those intimate encounters were exhausting, leaving him too sleepy to keep his eyes open afterward.

~~~

Day after day, life in prison felt even more monotonous than the same old routine—others fretted over survival and dodging bloodshed, but for Lin Jianxi, it was nothing but sleeping and eating.

He had no idea how the feud between Cheng Yedu and A Yi was progressing, but the sight of them exchanging nods when they crossed paths told him his advice from that day had worked.

Four months flew by in an instant, and Lin Jianxi began to show.

A Yi threw himself into picking out clothes for him, showering Lin Jianxi with an array of oversized shirts.

Cheng Yedu wouldn’t let him step outside the cell door, a restriction Lin Jianxi understood all too well. In his current condition…

It was hard not to jump to conclusions.

Lin Jianxi gazed at his reflection in the mirror, touching his cheek.

It was starting to fill out.

There was no scale around, so he had no clue how much weight he’d put on, but it had to be a fair amount—enough that, in the dead of night, the shackles around his ankle woke him up, biting too tight.

He slipped into the bathroom and checked his calf under the light. It was definitely thicker than before, which filled him with quiet dread.

No more gaining.

He’d never worried about his weight growing up, but this was ridiculous.

Lin Jianxi sighed.

There was nothing for it, though—his body couldn’t handle exercise right now.

After a moment of silent panic, he regained his composure and headed back to bed, planning to ask A Yi to loosen the shackles come morning.

He padded lightly toward the bed, only to be yanked hard off his feet. In an instant, he was flat on his back, cradled securely in A Yi’s arms.

A Yi nuzzled against his chest. “I want to hold you tonight. Whatever you want, I’ll fetch it tomorrow.”

Ever since that time he’d sent A Yi out for the aromatherapy diffuser and rewarded him with a deep French kiss, A Yi had been hooked. Every day, he’d pester: “What do you want? Where do you want to go? Who looks at you wrong—want me to take them out?”

It had left Lin Jianxi utterly content with what he had.

He wasn’t much for material things anyway, and A Yi had already supplied every necessity.

The cell was now so impeccably arranged that even the guards passing by couldn’t help stealing extra glances.

It put some overpriced college dorms to shame.

Aromatherapy diffusers, clever storage solutions, little decorative vignettes—even a mini fridge.

“…Loosen the shackles,” Lin Jianxi said after racking his brain. “They’re a bit tight.”

A Yi snapped awake, bolting upright and raking a hand through his messy hair. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

Without another word, he hiked up Lin Jianxi’s pant leg and loosened the shackles.

His fingers brushed Lin Jianxi’s calf and paused. “Gained some weight?”

“…I think so.”

“What do you mean, ‘think’?” A Yi slackened the shackles considerably, then flopped back down beside him, cupping his face in both hands. “That’s swelling, not fat. You barely eat enough to sustain yourself—how else would you pack on pounds? Photosynthesis?”

…

Not fat after all.

Lin Jianxi’s spirits lifted at once.