Chapter 59: Turtleneck and No Shirt
Xi Leng’s excessive cooperation might be a way of expressing gratitude, or perhaps a way to postpone the inevitable conflict of their shared “top” status.
Min Zhi didn’t have time to overthink it. Since Xi Leng was willing to take it off, it wasn’t his place to refuse.
Not to mention, asking a model to strip completely wasn’t excessive, and the artist might be the one losing control first.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he heard his own slightly hoarse voice: “Then just take off your shirt.”
Still wearing a turtleneck, though.
Good heavens.
The temperature was only around ten degrees Celsius, but with the heating on full blast, Xi Leng naturally wasn’t wearing layers to torture himself.
Although his profession was painting, and his lifestyle that of a homebody, he always valued his “working capital,” choosing part-time jobs that also served as exercise, like archery.
Therefore, his physique wasn’t frail or thin, but toned and sculpted, his muscles lean and defined.
How could a man’s body be so sexy?
This was what “playing with fire” looked like.
Min Zhi finally managed to hold the pencil. Noticing Xi Leng’s slightly unnatural expression as he pretended to be busy finding a comfortable position on the sofa, still holding the black-framed glasses he had taken off, he said,
“Put your glasses back on,” Min Zhi’s voice was a little hoarse. “Just lie on your side with your arm as a pillow. That’s more comfortable. I’m a slow painter.”
Xi Leng complied.
Lying on the sofa, a touch of intoxicating laziness added to his sexiness, his long, curly hair scattered on his pale arm, it was lethal.
It was like accidentally drinking rubbing alcohol while trying to get drunk, 95% pure, thinking he was just tipsy and feeling blissful, but actually dying, experiencing a final burst of energy before the end.
It was difficult to describe how he felt; words failed him.
Min Zhi, taking advantage of the fact that the model couldn’t see him, scribbled randomly on the paper, pretending to be serious and focused.
Xi Leng naturally wasn’t as casual and unconcerned as he appeared. In two lifetimes combined, this was his first time taking off his shirt in front of someone else. Even just his shirt, it was enough to make him uncomfortable all over, every inch of his skin feeling foreign.
Min Zhi, focused on his drawing, suddenly asked: “When you were learning how to draw, did you draw nude models?”
His words seemed to carry a hint of jealousy, but Xi Leng replied honestly: “Yes, during my freshman year.”
“Oh.” Min Zhi selectively accepted his answer. “You said I shouldn’t believe your words, so that’s a no.”
Xi Leng was silent, a smile playing on his lips. He quickly suppressed it, glancing at the amateur artist, then suddenly saying: “But there’s never been a model as beautiful as you.”
“Naturally.” Min Zhi readily accepted the compliment, a smug look on his face, looking even more handsome.
This time, Xi Leng couldn’t contain his smile.
Min Zhi immediately said: “Your expression changed, how can I draw you now?”
Xi Leng: “…”
An hour of drawing seemed long, but filled with idle chatter, preventing it from being awkwardly long.
Xi Leng put on his clothes and tidied himself up before going to see Min Zhi’s masterpiece.
Min Zhi’s reaction was slow tonight, only remembering to hide the drawing after Xi Leng approached, but it was too late.
Looking at the thing Min Zhi had been drawing and erasing for an hour, he could only be speechless.
“…What is this?”
The drawing was so abstract it was almost unrecognizable.
Min Zhi, however, raised an eyebrow and said with a smile: “It’s Old Man Ding, he owes me two marbles, I said he had three days to return them, he said four, so I went to his house. Three chives for three mao and three fen, a piece of tofu for six mao and six fen, a candied hawthorn for seven mao and seven fen…”
Seeing Xi Leng’s puzzled expression, Min Zhi explained as if it was the most obvious thing: “Old Man Ding, our art teacher taught us that in elementary school.”
“…”
Clearly, the abstract and comical “Old Man Ding” on the drawing had nothing to do with the model himself, although the “two marbles” for eyes were each circled, perhaps symbolizing his glasses.
And Old Man Ding’s body, the upper half white, with two buttons drawn horizontally on his chest, the lower half carefully shaded in pencil, ending in two lines, were those… his legs?
Xi Leng wasn’t sure.
Min Zhi offered his artistic explanation: “Your legs together looked a bit like a mermaid’s tail when you were lying down.”
“But you colored it black.” Xi Leng thought silently, coupled with his abstract skills, “It looks more like a penguin’s tail.”
“So strict? Who told you to wear black pants?” Min Zhi’s smile reached his eyes, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked at Xi Leng, then slowly and softly said, “Xi laoshi.”
Xi Leng, feeling a little uncomfortable, averted his gaze and asked, “Was the one you drew last time also Old Man Ding?”
Min Zhi, pretending to be profound, replied in English: “Without glasses version.”
Without glasses version.
But wasn’t Old Man Ding without glasses still Old Man Ding?
Xi Leng was speechless, keeping his inner commentary to himself.
As a man of few words, he usually wasn’t interested in teasing others, but when facing Min Zhi, he couldn’t help it.
Min Zhi suddenly reached out and touched the old-fashioned black-framed glasses on the bridge of his nose, repeating: “Without glasses version.”
Xi Leng froze, then felt a lightness on his nose as the glasses separating them were removed. His neck was held, and his body tilted forward uncontrollably, his lips caught by the person looking up at him.
Min Zhi’s hair had air-dried naturally while he was drawing, the concentrated scent of shampoo lingering, brushing against Xi Leng’s face with his movements, a pleasant fruity fragrance.
The kiss was light and brief, not giving him enough time to identify the fruit before Min Zhi let go.
He snapped out of his daze, meeting a pair of unreadable dark eyes.
Min Zhi’s voice was hoarse: “Are you going home now, or…?”
Xi Leng’s throat tightened, naturally choosing to go home.
Min Zhi remained seated on the drawing chair, not seeing him off.
After the door gently closed, Min Zhi stood up, tossing the abstract Old Man Ding and the drawing board aside, looking at the empty sofa, the image of Xi Leng lying there shirtless still lingering in his mind, burned into his retinas.
Before this, his impulses towards Xi Leng stemmed mostly from his heart, then messing with his mind, until today, facing this primal, physical attraction directly, he felt restless and agitated.
He lay down on the sofa where Xi Leng had been, the cool and refreshing scent of mint enveloping him, the air filled with Xi Leng’s presence.
He nuzzled against the sofa, then reached down to take care of himself, his breathing heavy.
“Ge… ge?”
A knock on the bathroom door.
A few minutes later, Xi Leng turned off the water, quickly tidied himself up, put on his pajamas, and went to open the door.
“Why did you take so long?” Rong Xingyi asked suspiciously.
Xi Leng, his expression unchanged, said as he dried himself with a towel, “I know.”
“What? Know…?” Rong Xingyi was confused for a moment, then his eyes widened, his voice trembling, “Then, then… can I… ask for a leave of absence?”
Rong Xingyi stuttered excitedly.
“Didn’t I say I could forgive you for one reckless act, but only once?” Xi Leng said. “I keep my promises, you can join the survival show.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Rong Xingyi rubbed his eyes, seemingly making sure he wasn’t dreaming.
Xi Leng initially wanted to pat his head, but remembering what this hand had done just now, he stopped himself.
Only saying: “Good luck.”
Rong Haigao, after returning empty-handed from Min Zhi’s company that day, witnessing the latter’s wealth, wasn’t willing to give up easily.
He didn’t quite understand the workings of the entertainment industry but knew that leaking information could make money, so he decided to expose Xi Leng.
That would be perfect. Xi Leng, as an amateur, gained immense popularity from just one variety show, even forming a CP with the top star Min Zhi. Countless people were watching him, waiting for him to slip up.
Rong Haigao first posted on Weibo, claiming to be Xi Leng’s father, revealing Xi Leng’s real name, Rong Zhao. Someone in the industry would definitely be able to find out about Xi Leng’s former name and verify his claims.
He was quite resourceful when it came to using shady methods to make money.
Not long after his Weibo post, a marketing account contacted him, confirming the photos of the teenage Xi Leng that he sent, and immediately asked for his address, requesting a face-to-face meeting, a classic cash-for-information deal.
Rong Haigao, unsuspecting, excitedly waited in his rented apartment for the arrival of a large sum of money.
Looking through the peephole, the person knocking on the door looked refined and scholarly, with a delicate face and gold-rimmed glasses.
He opened the door without a second thought, greeting him obsequiously: “Please come in, how should I address you… hm?”
However, the visitor wasn’t alone, three burly men in black suits and sunglasses stood behind him, looking like bodyguards, a menacing aura.
Rong Haigao sensed danger and tried to close the door, but they had already entered swiftly.
Fortunately, the young man leading the group seemed just as he appeared, smiling as he introduced himself politely: “My surname is Qiao.”
Rong Haigao immediately put on a fawning smile: “Qiao-zong, Qiao-zong, nice to meet you.”
The visitor was Qiao Yusen.
He brought three bodyguards handpicked by Min Zhi, here on a mission.
—After being released from the block list, he received this sudden, important task. Min Zhi also said that as long as he did a good job, he could forgive him for that “both tops” comment that broke his composure.
Heh.
He smiled without saying a word.
He had nothing better to do anyway, and this only required him to talk.
He locked the door behind him, glancing up and signaling to the three bodyguards.
Rong Haigao, still fantasizing about a business deal, was caught off guard, his limbs restrained by the three strong men, quickly tied to a chair.
Qiao Yusen ignored his cries for help and threats, set up the camera to record, meticulously wiped the chair, then, after a while, sat down leisurely across from him.
A guilty conscience was incredibly sensitive to danger, or perhaps it was just paranoia. Rong Haigao, sweating profusely, his face and neck flushed, blustered: “This is kidnapping! This is illegal! I’ll call the police!”
“Blackmail, assault…” One of the bodyguards, annoyed by his noise, kicked him to shut him up, saying coldly, “You think we’re afraid of prison?”
“There’s no need.” Qiao Yusen stopped the bodyguards, smiling innocently at Rong Haigao, then saying sharply, “This is your home, you invited us in. Shushu, if anyone’s kidnapping anyone, it should be you kidnapping me. I’m clearly the more valuable target.”
Brazenly turning the tables.
And Rong Haigao, unable to refute, his back drenched in cold sweat.
Just like that wealthy man he encountered when looking for Xi Leng, if it was just an ordinary person wearing a luxury watch, he would still take the risk. But that person, exuding wealth and power, made him cower instantly, not even daring to touch him.
Qiao Yusen in front of him was the same.
He knew that this kind of person could really send him to court, even to prison.
A clear conscience never fears midnight knocking, but his conscience was heavily burdened.
Qiao Yusen stopped the bodyguards, not out of kindness, but to carry out Min Zhi’s instructions, saying directly to Rong Haigao in front of the camera: “First ask how he beat his sons, then… take care of him.”
Rong Haigao’s expression changed drastically.
How could he tell? Besides, beating his wife and children was once a part of his daily life, as simple as eating and drinking; he couldn’t even remember the details. Yet, those young children still carried the scars.
He remained silent, and a bodyguard grabbed his wrist, twisting it continuously.
“Aaaaaah!!!!”
Rong Haigao was drenched in cold sweat, his screams piercing the air.
“I’ll talk… I’ll talk!”
His hand was numb with pain; he didn’t even know if it was broken.
He pleaded with Qiao Yusen: “I usually just kicked them a few times, maybe a few punches, as a man, you know, when I lose my temper, just venting, you understand, right? I knew my limits, I wouldn’t benefit from seriously injuring them…”
Still making excuses.
Qiao Yusen, smiling, instructed the bodyguards: “Then kick him a few times, punch him a few times, you decide how hard, it wouldn’t be good if he dies.”
Meaning, beat him to within an inch of his life.
Rong Haigao didn’t quite grasp the implication, but he clearly remembered what he had done to his sons! He was terrified, and by the time the strong bodyguards’ fists and feet rained down on him, he had lost his last chance to confess and beg for leniency. He didn’t even have time to breathe or plead.
His body ached, his face was swollen, his mouth filled with the taste of blood.
In the overwhelming despair, the door was suddenly knocked on urgently.
The violence paused, and Rong Haigao’s eyes lit up. He shouted towards the door: “Help—”
A bodyguard quickly covered his mouth.
Qiao Yusen calmly went to open the door.
A middle-aged man stood outside with a sullen face: “What’s all the noise? Can’t a person nap in peace?”
“My uncle fell, it’s nothing serious. Sorry to bother you.” Qiao Yusen smiled sweetly. “Shushu, here, for you.”
The man’s eyes almost popped out of his head upon seeing the several hundred-yuan bills stuffed into his hand.
“Is that so? Be more careful next time.” The man smiled, pocketing the “apology,” his attitude completely reversed. “You’re such a filial nephew, just call me if you need anything, I live downstairs.”
Qiao Yusen agreed, just as he was about to close the door,
Rong Haigao struggled desperately behind him: “Hey! Wait! Help…”
Before he could finish, his mouth was covered again, his eyes widening helplessly.
Watching as the door closed, the downstairs neighbor disappearing from his sight.
This was too absurd! That guy downstairs, not only had he seen him before, they even had a huge argument because of a water leak, and now, he was so easily bribed, turning a blind eye as if he were blind!?
This sense of hope appearing then being snatched away, this feeling of helplessness, plunged him into an even deeper despair than any physical pain.
“Please, let me go, I know I was wrong…”
These words finally had an effect. Qiao Yusen gestured to the bodyguards to stop and asked: “What are you wrong about?”
“I…” Rong Haigao couldn’t say it.
Qiao Yusen pressed: “What are you wrong about?”
Rong Haigao gulped a few times, finally confessing: “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have hit them, I lost control.”
“You didn’t just hit them.” Qiao Yusen’s gaze was cold, his usual unchanging smile gone, “You almost killed Xi Leng.”
Hearing this, Rong Haigao reacted strongly: “You’ve got it wrong! He was the one who tried to kill me! He came at me with a knife…”
Under Qiao Yusen’s cold and sharp gaze, he gradually calmed down, his eyes darting around nervously, downplaying his actions, “I wasn’t thinking, it was self-defense, if I hadn’t grabbed the knife, he would have stabbed me!”
“How old was he? In elementary or junior high?” Qiao Yusen didn’t acknowledge his excuse. “This is domestic violence and assault, and the victims were minors, that’s at least ten years in prison, believe it or not.”
Rong Haigao was speechless.
“That’s enough.” Qiao Yusen wasn’t interested in arguing with him anymore, picking up the camera, checking the over-an-hour long footage, and saying to the bodyguards, “Let’s end this.”
Rong Haigao thought his salvation had finally arrived.
But the bodyguards put an eye mask on him, plunging him into darkness. Qiao Yusen also stopped talking.
A moment later, a coolness on his neck, the stinging sensation registering belatedly.
His hands were tied, he couldn’t check the source of the pain.
But he felt a liquid trickling down his neck, soaking his collar.
Compared to the very real threat to his life, the cut on his neck, the previous punches and kicks were nothing.
“…What did you do!? This is murder! You’ll go to jail!”
“Who killed you?” Qiao Yusen asked calmly. “You can still shout, can’t you?”
Rong Haigao panicked, struggling desperately, shouting, “Call the police! I’m dying! You’ll be buried with me!!”
Qiao Yusen didn’t respond.
Rong Haigao shouted and cried, his voice gradually weakening until he fell into complete despair.
Then, his vision returned.
He thought he was in hell, but the person before him was still the devil in disguise.
Qiao Yusen smiled, reminding him: “Why don’t you look down?”
Rong Haigao was stunned for a few seconds before he reacted.
He saw the sticky, unknown liquid on his chest, like flour paste, viscous when warm, but drying quickly, forming scabs like blood, staining his clothes.
A bodyguard kindly untied one of his hands, letting him check his neck, which he thought had been slit.
It did sting slightly, a shallow cut, but the bleeding had stopped.
But the feeling of having been to the gates of hell was real.
He was still trembling uncontrollably, his eyes unfocused, as if in a dream.
Qiao Yusen’s smile didn’t change: “Don’t worry, I just have a few things to tell you.”
Rong Haigao trembled even more, knowing that this smiling man was sinister and cunning, a wolf in sheep’s clothing!
Qiao Yusen, looking slightly disgusted, patted his shoulder lightly and said: “Don’t mess with people you shouldn’t.”
After saying that, he turned off the camera, carefully put it away, and said to the three bodyguards: “Alright, let’s go.”
