Chapter 58 Part 2

When it finally ended, a large red patch had been rubbed onto his lower back, looking even more severe than before.

Zhong Nian collapsed onto the bed like all his strength had been drained, unable to get up for the moment. He lacked the energy to remove the damp shirt corner from his mouth.

“I’m going to take a bath.” With that, the Masked Man left, his steps lacking their usual steadiness.

Zhong Nian had no energy to notice. As soon as the man left, he hurriedly released his tail.

The Silver-Gray Small Tail had been held back fiercely and curled into a tiny ball, trembling alongside its owner for a long time.

–

Zhong Nian and the Masked Man’s pace fell behind everyone else’s. By the time they came downstairs, it was very late.

The players gave them strange, meaningful looks. Zhong Nian sensed it but only assumed they were dissatisfied or suspicious of what he and the Masked Man had been doing upstairs. He didn’t care.

His waist was still a bit sore, so he stood to the side while the Masked Man prepared the bedding on the floor.

Once it was ready, he immediately sat down to rest.

“Uncomfortable?” the Masked Man asked softly.

Zhong Nian whispered back: “Not really, just sore… actually, it felt pretty good.”

It was similar to a massage—unbearable during, but afterward, his bones felt stretched straight, with a lingering numb, tingly sensation.

The live stream viewers, just released, were all dumbfounded.

【？？？？】

【What felt good? What sore?】

【What did you two do in those two hours we didn’t know about?!】

【I knew it! Wife just took a bath, but the stream was off for so long—you definitely did something, right?!】

【Masked Guy, you’re dead. You made my Wife’s waist so sore he can’t straighten it, you beast… trembling with rage.】

【No wonder as soon as the stream went live, Baby’s face was all red, like he’d been fed full. I thought it was my dirty mind…】

【Heh, some people act all proper on the surface but use seductive tricks behind the scenes to lure my Wife to bed. Shameless.】

【I’m broken too.】

Zhong Nian had no idea how his two sentences, overheard by the live stream room, got twisted into something else. He burrowed into the quilt and rested contentedly.

…

That night, during the first half, the Masked Man was one of the night watchmen.

Zhong Nian lay on the side against the wall, with three layers of quilts padded beneath him by the Masked Man. He felt neither cold nor hard.

At the slightest movement, the person flexed-legged beside him would turn his head, asking if he needed anything or if he was thirsty.

Zhong Nian shook his head. He lay on his side facing the man, one cheek slightly puffed by the pillow, his crow-feather-long lashes drooping low, both hands resting by his face.

He rubbed his eyes, his soft voice light like clouds, coquettish: “I’m just a bit unable to sleep.”

The Masked Man rubbed his itchy fingers, suppressing the urge to touch his hair, and said lowly: “I’m here.”

Zhong Nian smiled lightly: “I know. With you, I don’t have to worry about anything.”

But as soon as he closed his eyes, scenes from the day automatically surfaced in his mind.

Including how he had been limp and powerless in the Devil’s arms, unable to resist, made disheveled and miserable by shameless methods.

The more he deliberately tried to forget certain sensations, the more they bubbled up in quiet moments.

Ignoring the normal burning from the medicated oil on his lower back, his abdomen still held a bit of soreness and heat, and his inner thighs burned spicily—it was from over-cleaning during his bath. Anywhere the Devil had touched felt uncomfortable.

He could only suppress this frustration and digest it himself. He sighed listlessly, flipping to lie prone for a more comfortable waist position, rubbing his chin on the pillow. With eyes closed, he looked like a lazy cat.

The Masked Man watched him without speaking, then suddenly stood and left.

Zhong Nian assumed he was going to the bathroom and obediently stayed put, closing his eyes to try sleeping again.

Soon, he heard the man’s returning footsteps.

“Zhong Nian.”

“Hm?” Zhong Nian opened his eyes and saw the Masked Man handing him a Cloth Doll about two palm-sizes.

The Cloth Doll was one of the gifts from the Small Town children, handmade in his likeness: silver-white hair cut from woven cloth, a round puffy face stuffed with cotton, and button eyes.

Zhong Nian cherished it, keeping it in the basket with the candies.

The Masked Man placed it by his cheek, tucked it under the quilt corner as well.

Zhong Nian was momentarily stunned, then realized the man was using the doll to soothe him into sleep.

He wasn’t a kid who could be coaxed to sleep with a doll.

But he still curved his lips in thanks to the Masked Man, placing his hand on the doll and pressing his face closer to it.

…

Perhaps it really worked.

Fifteen minutes later, the Masked Man gazed at Zhong Nian beside him.

The young man’s face pressed against the doll resembling him had fallen deeply asleep. Under the dim yellow light, it painted a warm picture.

With the person asleep, the man’s gaze no longer needed restraint and stared unabashedly.

For a long time.