Jiang Rang had never imagined that the other party would bring him straight home.
When the sleek black luxury car glided to a smooth stop in front of the villa with its black-gold tinted glass, a flicker of concealed astonishment and panic crossed the young man’s face, which he had been pretending was so meek.
For a fleeting moment, Jiang Rang lost his composure. Lu Xiang was indeed the notorious playboy everyone talked about—racing cars, partying, gambling. The fact that he’d shelled out fifty thousand just to have him join for a meal made it clear: this was a man who threw money around like confetti and looked down on the world from on high.
By all rights, a spoiled heir from such a wealthy family wouldn’t have any real feelings to speak of. Even if he’d taken a fancy to him, it was far too soon to drag someone back to his private residence.
What was more, Lu Xiang had a severe case of mysophobia.
Unless these past few days of his coy push-and-pull had finally worn the man’s patience thin. In that case, this fifty thousand probably wasn’t just for keeping him company at dinner.
To put it bluntly, if Lu Xiang was the kind of bastard who would stoop that low, then the money was nothing less than a prostitution fee—payment for Jiang Rang selling his body.
After all, once he stepped onto the man’s turf, he’d be like a fish on the chopping block. If force came into play, he’d have no choice but to take it, without so much as a hint of complaint.
These thoughts made Jiang Rang’s face drain of color, his wandering black eyes gradually welling up with a nervous, flickering sheen of moisture.
He’d heard all the ugly rumors online about the twisted ways rich folks tormented their playthings. Money like that never came easy.
Especially given Lu Xiang’s build and the subtle bulge hinting at his impressive package—Jiang Rang quickly looked away, his heart quivering. This guy probably wasn’t the easygoing type in bed, either.
“Mr. Jiang, please.”
The attendant’s mild voice sounded right by his ear, hitting the young man like a death knell in that instant.
Jiang Rang lowered his gaze, his body rigid. It took him a long moment before he finally stepped out of the car.
He’d made up his mind. A quick death or a slow one—it was all the same. Better to see what the man had in store first.
The man was waiting right there by the car. Seeing the unease etched on the youth’s face, Lu Xiang studied him for a beat before his sharply chiseled features cracked into a smile that gave nothing away.
“Are you scared, Jiang Rang?” he asked.
Jiang Rang weighed his words carefully, then softly dropped his eyes. “A little, Classmate Lu. You didn’t mention bringing me to your house.”
Lu Xiang spun his phone idly between his fingers and let out a casual “Mm.” The teardrop mole beneath his eye glimmered faintly. “This is just one of my properties. The chef makes some decent dishes.”
It was about as half-hearted an explanation as they came.
Jiang Rang’s tension eased for a split second, only to be replaced by a murky cocktail of envy and resentment.
From the sound of it, a place this lavish was just one of many in the man’s portfolio.
City-center real estate that regular folks could only dream of—stuff you couldn’t buy even if you had the cash—was little more than a plaything to these rich kids.
A mix of shyness and anxiety played across Jiang Rang’s docile features. He pressed his lips together, the full, pretty curve of his lower lip glistening faintly. Bathed in the rosy hues of dusk, it carried an air of pure, ethereal beauty.
The young man had a fantastic figure—slim, toned, and perfectly proportioned. Trailing behind the taller man, he resembled nothing so much as a tame and lovely lamb.
Yet those downcast eyes shimmered with hidden ripples, betraying thoughts as murky as sludge.
Upon entering the Lu Family Villa, the expected disinfection supplies appeared, presented by attendants with bowed heads.
Jiang Rang had never been fond of the sharp tang of disinfectant, but right now, enduring it was his only option.
With saintly patience, the young man let the attendants handle him. Clearly acting on orders, they wiped down his exposed arms, his pale cheeks, the prominent hollows of his collarbones—right up until his snowy skin took on a subtle, creamy flush.
Off to the side, Lu Xiang lazily arched a brow as he disinfected his own hands. His ink-black peach-blossom eyes stayed locked on the youth without blinking. There was something unnerving about that stare—not the raw, leering hunger of a Zhou Yichun, but the chilling patience of a predator methodically honing its fangs.
Jiang Rang didn’t dare meet it. From beginning to end, he ignored that gaze as best he could, playing the part of a naive, upright young man who’d simply accepted a friend’s invitation.
Thankfully, the ordeal didn’t drag on.
It wasn’t until they stepped into the dining room that Jiang Rang truly grasped what old-money opulence looked like.
The enormous space was clad in sleek, understated black and gray. A low-hanging chandelier cast a slender shaft of crisp white light, while concealed linear fixtures in the walls spilled a warm, dignified golden glow. At the far end stood a vast display case brimming with priceless treasures, each one gleaming with refined splendor.
The Lu family’s dining table wasn’t particularly large, but it was exquisitely refined. The two men sat face-to-face in intimate proximity, separated only by a delicate piece of white-gold porcelain that somehow created the illusion they could easily close the distance between them.
The villa’s chef was genuinely skilled, reportedly brought in specially from Huajing to serve only this renowned Young Master Lu.
The young man was clearly delighted with the meal. He showed no unfamiliarity with the expensive ingredients, and a faint pickiness occasionally flickered across his brows as he ate.
He was skilled at concealing it, but he couldn’t escape the man’s unrelenting gaze.
After a long moment, Jiang Rang awkwardly dabbed at his lips with the napkin beside him. His thin eyelids fluttered open, and his dark pupils locked onto the man across from him.
Feeling a touch embarrassed, the young man asked, “Why are you staring at me like that, Classmate Lu?”
Lu Xiang hadn’t even touched his chopsticks. The slightly curled strands of hair at his temple shifted as his sharp peach-blossom eyes narrowed. Out of nowhere, he asked, “Does Classmate Jiang usually wear perfume?”
His tongue flicked subtly against his teeth, and strange, brooding shadows stirred in his black eyes. “You smell really good.”
Jiang Rang froze for a split second. He did pay close attention to his appearance, but he wasn’t the type to go overboard like that.
The young man was certain there was no extra fragrance on him—nothing beyond the faint scents of laundry detergent and soap. There was no way he carried the kind of “fragrance” the other man described.
That line of thinking made the comment sound more like a suggestive flirtation.
Jiang Rang’s smile faltered for an instant. He quickly smoothed his expression, leaning back slightly in his chair as he adjusted the knife and fork in his hand. In a soft, measured voice, he replied, “I don’t wear perfume, Classmate Lu. My nose is sensitive—scents like smoke or cologne are usually too much for me to handle.”
His smile was perfectly polite and warm, his response airtight. Yet to the man watching him, it felt like a soft feather teasing at the tip of his heart.
Because even as Jiang Rang spoke those words, the fragrance wafting from him intensified, thick enough to seem almost dripping with moist, cloying sweetness.
Lu Xiang didn’t buy it for a second.
Those words only solidified the impression that the young man was deliberately seducing him.
The man leaned back slowly, his body relaxing despite himself. He ground his teeth lightly and gave a mocking half-smile. “Is that right?”
Jiang Rang suddenly lost his appetite, his mind racing in a whirlwind of thoughts.
He knew full well that the man across from him was nothing like the easily fooled Zhou Yichun. The Zhou family were little more than nouveau riche, but Lu Xiang wielded real power and influence. If he wanted to, he could dig up exactly what underwear Jiang Rang had worn that day.
With that in mind, the young man didn’t dare nod along. He managed only a stiff, evasive smile and fell silent.
“Buzz buzz—”
His phone vibrated.
Lu Xiang glanced at the caller ID, then at the young man with his eyes demurely downcast. A smirk tugged at his lips as he answered.
Lighthearted, teasing laughter and chatter erupted from the other end.
“Brother Lu, how’s it going?”
“Hahaha, you’re not already in bed with him, are you?”
“Seriously though, Jiang Rang’s got some real game. Anyone else would’ve jumped you the second you showed a spark of interest. He sure knows how to play coy.”
“Come on, Brother Lu, when are you gonna close the deal? We’re all waiting for you to bring your ‘sister-in-law’ out for dinner.”
Lu Xiang tuned out most of it, replying only to the last remark.
His striking peach-blossom eyes fixed on the young man. Under the youth’s puzzled gaze, he drawled slowly, “Soon.”
Then he hung up.
Lu Xiang had never felt this pull toward anyone before. His mysophobia was severe, bordering on disrupting his daily life.
Even when he went out for fun, he stuck to the same private box, with seats reserved exclusively for him and pre-disinfected.
Under those conditions, romance was out of the question—he found even casual proximity to others repulsive and uncomfortable.
Jiang Rang was a glaring exception.
Lu Xiang had even consulted the doctor about it, going so far as to describe the youth’s intoxicating, near-maddening fragrance in detail.
The doctor’s take was that genetics made true “body scent” in men virtually impossible, so the overwhelming aroma Lu Xiang detected was almost certainly perfume.
As for his inexplicable attraction to it, that boiled down to genetic compatibility.
Put simply, Lu Xiang’s body craved the other man’s.
With zero romantic history and the young man’s reputation as a hypocritical gold-digger, Lu Xiang had started out with outright dislike—bordering on disgust.
He knew damn well the guy was after his money.
And yet, for all that his mind recoiled from the youth’s overtures, that scent left him rooted to the spot.
Afterward, Jiang Rang consciously distanced himself from him, and an inexplicable displeasure welled up in Lu Xiang’s heart.
Lu Xiang’s personality was utterly unrestrained. With enough money and power at his disposal, he almost never had to endure anything.
Since the other couldn’t stay away and wouldn’t leave, the man simply leveraged their bet, using money to bind Jiang Rang to his side.
Perhaps once he truly possessed him, that baffling obsession would finally fade.
Once he was no longer enthralled by that seductive fragrance—like the scent of alluring bones—he could just pay him off and be done with it.
After all, Jiang Rang only wanted money.
This was a game that suited them both.
With that in mind, the man slowly raised his hand and rapped on the table. His slightly curled locks brushed his eyes, and his sharp, aggressively almond-shaped peach-blossom eyes lifted at the corners, the teardrop mole beneath them gleaming brightly.
![How Should an Ordinary Person Role-Play? [Quick Transmigration]](https://i3.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/qck.jpg?resize=151,215 "How Should an Ordinary Person Role-Play? [Quick Transmigration]")
