Chapter 71: Heart-Manipulating Older Chaebol

Han Xu refused to give up on the other end of the line. “Sir, let me come pick up my brother. If he doesn’t want to stay in the hospital, it’ll be easier to look after him back home…”

Zheng Shiyan drew in a deep breath. He had no choice but to hand the phone to Han Wu, silently urging him with a look.

“Tell your brother you want to stay here.”

He narrowed his eyes in a smile, softening his voice on purpose. “Right?”

Han Wu lifted his gaze to meet Zheng Shiyan’s, cooperating with unusual obedience as he spoke into the receiver. “Yes.”

“But why?” Han Xu’s voice brimmed with confusion.

Han Wu’s face remained blank as he continued. “I want to… bear his off—”

Zheng Shiyan snatched the phone back, his face turning ashen before the words were even out.

Rubbing his throbbing temples, he forced his voice to stay even. “That was… just a joke.”

Han Xu still sounded glum. “That’s weird.”

“My brother doesn’t usually get this chummy with strangers.”

“…”

Zheng Shiyan was starting to think neither brother was all there.

At least he’d bought some time for now. The bruises would fade soon enough.

Han Wu looked up to find Zheng Shiyan’s handsome face leaning in close, a warm hand pressing gently against his abdomen. The man’s expression was cautious, even caring—a rare sight.

“Does it hurt anywhere inside?”

Han Wu shook his head.

Zheng Shiyan exhaled in relief and hauled him up off the floor.

But the young man’s clothes were soaked through and crumpled on the bathroom tiles, ruined beyond wearing.

He was tall with long legs—slim-looking in clothes, but actually quite filled out…

Zheng Shiyan shook his head sharply, as if to banish the thought before his eyes burned.

In the end, he grabbed a thick bathrobe from the hotel closet, wrapping it roughly around Han Wu and tying the belt tight to bundle him up securely.

Then he guided Han Wu by the shoulders to sit on the edge of the bed.

The cut on the young man’s forehead was minor, just a scrape. The clotting issue was a concern, but Zheng Shiyan figured it didn’t warrant another hospital run.

He made a quick call. Moments later, a hotel staffer delivered a compact medical kit.

Zheng Shiyan sat beside him, opened the kit, and cleaned the wound with care. He snipped off a piece of sterile gauze and held it firmly in place with his finger to staunch the bleeding.

Han Wu stayed quiet through it all, those gray-blue eyes staring into space.

Zheng Shiyan figured he’d remain that way—meek and silent.

Then, out of nowhere, Han Wu turned to him and leaned in, resting his forehead on Zheng Shiyan’s shoulder.

Zheng Shiyan froze, a pang of guilt stirring from the unexpected tenderness.

Before he could react, Han Wu started sucking on his ear.

His arms snaked around to hug him, too.

“…”

Zheng Shiyan shut his eyes and breathed deep. Fine. He’d pretend it wasn’t happening.

It was just an ear. No flesh lost. No point squabbling with a kid on death’s door.

The curtains were drawn, muting the light and the room’s noise.

They pressed close together. Perhaps from the cold shower, Han Wu’s skin felt cool.

All Zheng Shiyan heard was the young man’s breathing—and the wet sucking sounds.

Han Wu didn’t stop at the lobe. Sometimes his bright red tongue flicked out to trace the shell of the ear. And those hands… far from idle.

Zheng Shiyan gritted his teeth, forehead vein pulsing wildly.

He checked the gauze. Still bleeding. No choice but to keep pressing.

But Han Wu pushed further, nipping now. His hands kneaded without cease.

“Enough!”

How were this brat’s teeth so sharp?

Zheng Shiyan’s ear and neck burned red.

He wanted to snap—but one glance at those bruised eyes stopped him cold.

No way to vent.

Han Wu met his gaze calmly, refusing to relent. If anything, he bit down harder, defiant.

“Urgh…”

An involuntary groan escaped Zheng Shiyan’s throat.

Han Wu’s sharp canine pierced the lobe, bright blood welling up.

Dizziness hit Zheng Shiyan like a wave.

The room spun, as if they were adrift on a fishing boat at sea.

Han Wu’s gray-blue eyes locked on his as he engulfed the whole earlobe, lapping up every drop of blood.

Zheng Shiyan’s face flushed crimson. His fingers slipped from the gauze. They toppled onto the bed together. He lay there panting, heart hammering, the world still reeling.

A strange buzz hummed in his ears. The vertigo dragged on before finally lifting.

When his eyes fluttered open, he realized they’d been tangled up on the bed for ages.

Han Wu’s head nuzzled his neck, one hand splayed over his chest—like he was asleep.

Wait… how long had it been?

Zheng Shiyan bolted upright, rubbing his brow before peering out the window.

Night had fallen completely.

He grabbed his phone. Missed calls and messages lit the screen.

Worst was Han Xu. By now, he’d likely be heading out to hunt for the merman.

Zheng Shiyan eased the sleeping Han Wu aside. On his way out, he caught his reflection—his earlobe a glaring red, faintly bruised.

Like a damn dog.

Grumbling to himself, he slipped out the door.

Only after it clicked shut did Han Wu’s eyes slowly open.

~~~

Zheng Shiyan sped back to the village, meeting Han Xu at their prearranged remote pier.

As expected, Han Xu had a plain old fishing boat—rickety, bobbing gently on the waves.

Han Xu scanned the shadows nervously, terrified of any villagers spotting them.

“Just this?” Doubt dripped from Zheng Shiyan’s voice, but he followed onto the unsteady deck anyway.

The night sea stretched into inky depths. No moon, no lights—just pure blackness, broken only by the soft slap of waves against the hull. Salty, chill mist hung thick in the air.

“You’re sure this’ll find the merman?” Zheng Shiyan whispered. It felt downright shady, like some black-market deal.

Han Xu kept his eyes down; darkness hid his face. “Truth is, I don’t know. The elders won’t talk. Father… he’s always itching to head to town. But I heard that if you go looking, the merman… shows up.”

“I sent people searching forever. Nothing.” Zheng Shiyan laughed dryly.

“What, some kind of woo-woo mysticism?”

Han Xu’s lips thinned. He didn’t reply—instead, he asked, “See the merman once, and our deal’s done?”

“You have to catch it.”

“What?” Han Xu’s face paled.

“Should we still bring them ashore? No, no, we can’t. The villagers will find out. We mustn’t have any contact with the mermen.”

“What if we do contact them?” Zheng Shiyan retorted indifferently.

“Then… we’ll attract ominous things.” Han Xu’s voice dropped even lower. “We really can’t.”

The other helpers on the boat listened to this exchange amid the endless darkness and couldn’t help but feel a chill run down their spines.

Someone muttered under their breath, “He makes it sound like we’ve run into a ghost…”

“People who are spiritually sensitive tend to bump into ghosts more easily.”

Zheng Shiyan let out a laugh, clearly not buying it.

“You’d better hurry up and find that merman first. It’s not like saying you’ll find it makes it happen.”

Unable to sway him, Han Xu piloted the fishing boat aimlessly through the shallow waters, gradually drifting away from the village.

He kept glancing back to make sure the village had vanished into the night and the thin mist before finally sitting down on the gunwale and dipping his legs into the pitch-black sea.

Then he began to hum a soft, fragmented tune.

“Moonlight gleams, ocean deep. New house sparkles clean. Who comes calling, who comes to greet? Mother’s nowhere to be seen…”

His silhouette looked frail and isolated in the thick gloom, as if it might melt into the darkness at any moment.

No one could fathom his purpose. The boat chugged on in silence for a while, the humming and the lapping waves forming a monotonous rhythm.

Suddenly, Han Xu raised his head. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” His subordinates exchanged puzzled glances. Aside from the waves, there was nothing.

Zheng Shiyan didn’t notice anything unusual at first either—just a faint twinge in his earlobes.

But then, an extremely faint low hum, as if rising from the ocean depths, wove into the sound of the waves and burrowed into his ears.

The noise was barely there, reminiscent of that broken melody—or maybe it was just his imagination.

He glanced at the others, but their faces remained blank.

Was he the only one who could hear it?

Right then, Han Xu plunged into the icy seawater with a sudden “plop,” sending up a spray of water.

“Is he all right?” one of the subordinates cried out.

“Did he go after the merman?”

“He didn’t bring any diving gear. How long can he hold his breath?”

Zheng Shiyan frowned and barked an order. “Two of you, get in there and check on him.”

As he leaned over to peer at the surface, he noticed something strange.

The sea had gone eerily still, its black expanse smooth as glass.

On impulse, he dipped his hand in. Instead of the expected chill, his fingertips met an unsettling warmth—close to body temperature.

It felt like he’d touched blood-warm water.

He jerked his hand back. Of course, there was no blood on it.

A gust of sea wind blew through, turning the droplets on his skin ice-cold.

At that moment, Han Xu bobbed up from the dark water alongside the boat and was hauled aboard.

Soaked to the bone, his face was even paler than before, his lips tinged purple.

“Did you see anything?” Zheng Shiyan demanded.

Han Xu swiped the seawater from his face and nodded, his gaze distant and hollow.

“No ‘person’ came back with me.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I might… not be able to find the merman anymore. I can’t go in the water again.” Panic laced his voice in a strange way.

Everyone on the boat figured the cold had addled his brain, making him babble nonsense.

Zheng Shiyan grabbed the camera to review the footage. But shooting underwater at night—even with specialized gear—yielded nothing but blurry smears.

“We’ll have to try again in daylight,” he concluded.

The fishing boat soon returned to the coast near the village. The settlement should have been fast asleep, yet lights glowed in several windows. Straight silhouettes stood motionless behind the glass, all facing out to sea.

Han Xu grew even more agitated. “They shouldn’t be awake… We really can’t go out to sea anymore.”

Zheng Shiyan scowled at his subordinates. “Any way to convince the other villagers?”

They’d tried before. But the moment they brought up “going to sea for the merman,” the simple folk turned hostile in an instant.

Some would shout that no such creatures existed; others dissolved into frenzied sobs. A few elders even flew into a rage, grabbing whatever knives were at hand to chase them off.

Mist now cloaked the village, leaving only those lit windows and their rigid shadows starkly visible—a frozen, uncanny tableau in the night.

With Han Xu looking unsteady, Zheng Shiyan had no choice but to head back to the hotel first. On the drive, he pored over the video, convinced he glimpsed vague shapes underwater—almost like human shadows.

Could the villagers really summon mermen that easily?

If only it were daytime.

He still needed to find a way to win over the villagers.

When he arrived at the hotel, the front desk staff informed him of a possible leak in his room—likely a burst pipe—and asked to enter for repairs.

Zheng Shiyan considered it and politely declined.

He opened the door alone and found the bathroom faucet running full blast, water spilling endlessly out.

It had flooded the tiles and soaked the carpet.

Han Wu stood quietly by the open window, gazing into the night, turning slowly only when he heard the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Zheng Shiyan tamped down his anger and strode over to shut off the tap.

Han Wu’s face was serene. “Your home is too small. Can’t propagate here.”

A vein throbbed at Zheng Shiyan’s temple.

The boy’s mind worked in strange ways, but on reflection, his oddity fit that enigmatic village all too well.

A sudden idea struck him. He looked up, fixing Han Wu with an intense stare.

“So, do you know how to find a merman?”

“Tomorrow, help me find one. What do you say?”

Han Wu’s pale eyes met his steadily, offering neither agreement nor refusal.

“Find the merman, and your family’s debt gets wiped clean. Your brother won’t have to brave the sea at night anymore. I’ll even send him to school.”

Han Wu betrayed no excitement. Instead, his gaze drifted to the hand Zheng Shiyan had dipped in the sea. He took it, sniffed it.

Zheng Shiyan drew a deep breath. A flawless smile spread across his face—mature, magnetic.

He leaned in close, voice low, brushing the boy’s cheek.

His face hovered near enough for a kiss.

“I’ll even agree to date you. How about it?”

Han Wu regarded him impassively, perhaps bored. Abruptly, he grabbed Zheng Shiyan’s head and shoved it down with crushing force.

Caught off guard, Zheng Shiyan dropped to his knees before the boy, his face smashed straight into Han Wu’s crotch.