On the public bookshelves of the Drama Club, some books described young people secretly gathering to watch forbidden films.
A cramped room, an ambiguous atmosphere, the curiosity and restlessness of adolescence—depending on the book’s genre, this could be the prelude to exposing decadent humanity or the stage for an innocent campus romance. In any case, it was a scene that made the characters’ hearts race, their skin flush, and waves of emotion surge within.
…In theory, anyway.
The man kneeling on the screen let out formulaic gasps with professional dedication. The camera zoomed in meaningfully on multiple body parts, with audio effects and visuals working overtime to stimulate. Wen Jiang and Xie Qi sat on the sofa, their faces expressionless.
Boring, both thought simultaneously as they watched the video.
Before attempting to tie someone up for real, they needed to learn the basics. The props for bondage were in a secret room Wen Jiang hadn’t seen yet, so hands-on practice was postponed to tomorrow along with the room tour.
Tonight was prime time for novices—like cramming for finals. It was golden hour for shoving knowledge into their heads.
Their study material—”From Beginner to Master: Essential Video Collection for Newbies”—contained multiple chapters. Bondage was just one section; there were also language, categorization, whipping, training, punishment, and more. It claimed to be comprehensive, with the big selling point being that it taught everything step-by-step.
Not very useful, Wen Jiang concluded.
Objectively, the videos were well-produced. The creators had put real effort into balancing education and eye-candy. Wen Jiang learned how to tie the Binding Rope and picked up some new knowledge along the way. But that was probably the extent of its value.
Much of the supposedly practical content just didn’t suit them.
It had nothing to do with technique difficulty or style. The most straightforward, basic issue was—Xie Qi didn’t seem genuinely interested in this “new world.”
Sure, the situations varied in all sorts of ways, but they all boiled down to an audience watching a performance. A show had different effects on different viewers. By positioning, the videos were study material for Wen Jiang… and theoretically, erotic films for Xie Qi.
It made sense that Xie Qi wasn’t shocked or intrigued. His parents seemed to have an open view of sex. Even backing off a step, plenty of people in his circles kept slaves or played these games. He didn’t need videos for an “initiation.” He knew and had seen far more than Wen Jiang, which was within expectations.
Not to mention, a stranger’s antics weren’t all that appealing.
But if Xie Qi felt nothing… how was he supposed to vent and relieve himself through this?
The whole point was to ease the Supernatural Ability instability. Xie Qi’s personal response was a key metric, but from Wen Jiang’s observations, he seemed even more bored than Wen Jiang.
Wen Jiang’s own reaction to the videos was detached, like watching an animal experiment in an incubator. Xie Qi lounged next to him with his leg crossed, exuding a lordly demeanor, faint displeasure etched between his brows.
He’d been nonchalant before they started, but his mood soured the moment the man stripped. Now, he looked like he was enduring grating noise or a trashy movie that made him squirm—just basic manners kept him silent.
Whether through immersive fantasy or simply “appreciating” the sights and sounds, anyone facing erotic content tailored to their kinks would show some reaction: rising body temperature, quickened pulse, or more obvious physiological signs. None of that appeared on Xie Qi.
The actors’ performances were pretty mediocre, though… As a Lifestyle System performer-type esper, Wen Jiang was harshly critical of strangers.
Both the owner with less screen time and the plaything dominating most of it came off as contrived and unnatural.
Wen Jiang watched the man’s movements intently. He constantly flaunted his scarred waist and back muscles. After a whip from the female owner, he seemed to “lose it,” throwing his head back in a strained, suppressed groan. The camera highlighted his rolling neckline. At the same moment, Wen Jiang heard Xie Qi’s low, irritated tsk.
The books on the table shifted on their own without anyone touching them, flipped by erratic air currents.
Wen Jiang: …
This bordered on disgust.
But back at the Bole Hotel, Xie Qi had reacted. He’d agreed awkwardly when asked about being tied earlier. Plus, the doctor’s diagnosis backed it up. Saying he’d never opened this “new door” didn’t add up.
Was the “door” opening weirdly? Or did he have higher demands that completely overrode any interest?
Before the next whip landed on screen, Wen Jiang hit pause and asked, “Is it having the opposite effect?”
The Supernatural Ability hasn’t improved at all.
…I’m sitting here watching erotic videos of some other guy with my boyfriend—what scenario has a positive effect? Xie Qi rubbed his brow, grumbling a sulky “Mm.” He’d been wrestling with the urge to cover Wen Jiang’s eyes and drag him away for ages.
Wen Jiang glanced sideways, silently questioning the reason.
Xie Qi choked. He opened his mouth, then shut it, turning away to ruffle his hair. His exposed earlobe gradually flushed red.
The question embarrassed him more than the video. After a long internal struggle, he finally grumbled, “…I just think the acting sucks.”
Wen Jiang caught the quiet mutter: “This isn’t even you.”
This isn’t even you.
This isn’t even you.
The loaded words echoed in Wen Jiang’s mind. He paused, a little touched.
Good taste. “Me too,” Wen Jiang nodded vigorously, showing strong agreement. Not bad—my acting’s way better than these people!
He hadn’t expected Xie Qi to have such faith in him, even in a field he wouldn’t enter. It sparked some enthusiasm. But he clarified, “I’ve never acted.”
At the hotel, he’d just followed his whims, not deliberately performing for Xie Qi.
Xie Qi opening this “new door” because of it was pure coincidence.
“You don’t need to act.” Xie Qi frowned, finally turning back. His ears were still pink, but his face had that usual indifferent look. “No need. Do whatever you want.”
Pretty high degree of freedom, Wen Jiang thought, recalling the language section. “No need to curse you?”
“…”
No idiot had ever dared curse him in his life. Xie Qi’s brows furrowed instinctively. Seeing Wen Jiang propping his cheek and watching, he couldn’t snap back. After stewing, he asked oddly, “You want to curse me?”
“No interest.” Wen Jiang said flatly. The model student had never cursed anyone growing up.
He had fought, though. “What about hitting you?”
For Combat System espers, fights were routine. This was easier to answer than cursing—and Xie Qi was always the one doing the hitting.
“…Fine.”
Agreeing to let someone hit him felt weird, but Xie Qi admitted he still had “stereotypes” about Lifestyle System folks. His gaze swept over Wen Jiang’s collarbone and wrists, lingering on the skin for seconds before he chuckled out of nowhere. From initial awkwardness, he grew at ease, teasing lazily, “Don’t wear yourself out hitting me.”
It sounded like comedy now.
Combat System students were tough-skinned with strong self-healing anyway—especially S-Grade. He had a point.
Wen Jiang glanced back at the screen. They’d reached the whipping section, which covered efficient, low-effort ways to land painful lashes. Xie Qi’s mood visibly tanked again.
“You still gonna watch?” Xie Qi’s tone held dissatisfaction. He eyed the muscular nude on screen critically, muttering, “All show, no substance.”
Wen Jiang: …
Comparing what? Wen Jiang lowered his gaze. The guy was a performer—he trained for videos, not fights.
“I’ll finish this segment.” Might be useful, Wen Jiang decided to keep studying. Xie Qi’s glare at the screen grew icier, but like at the start, he showed no sign of leaving for bed. He stayed on the sofa, accompanying Wen Jiang.
Wen Jiang tilted his head. Supernatural Abilities decoupled true physical prowess from appearances like bulk or muscles—the prime example being Jiang Hehu in Bloodbath state. Xie Qi wasn’t some burly brute either, but his endurance, explosiveness, absolute strength, etc., were all top-tier.
So whipping him or making him do painful, exhausting things… Wen Jiang wouldn’t hesitate if Xie Qi was willing.
Out of the blue, Wen Jiang asked, “Can you do a ton of weighted push-ups?”
Xie Qi blinked, then replied casually, “Yeah.”
Weighted push-ups were just continuous ones with weights on your back. Even basic ones in the A-Rank Arena started at two hundred reps. No big deal.
Xie Qi rarely trained like that, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t. His physical training had always been elite-level.
No need to worry, then. Wen Jiang’s eyes showed understanding as he kept propping his cheek, watching Xie Qi.
“Then,” he continued casually, like chatting about the weather, “kneel on the floor.”
“Stay down until I’m done watching.”
