Chapter 15: Doctor Bottom x Celebrity Top

“How did you untie it?” The manager retreated a step, startled by Jing Chi’s movements.

Jing Chi rubbed his wrists, reddened from the ropes, and sneered dismissively. “This knot? I could undo it when I was ten. But thanks for not tying my feet too, or it would’ve taken me two extra seconds.”

The manager ducked behind the burly men and barked orders in a sharp, furious voice. “Don’t get cocky! You two, go beat him up!”

Jing Chi cracked his neck and sighed. “Man, it’s been forever since I got into a real scrap. Come on, let me stretch my legs.”

The two burly men exchanged uneasy glances, momentarily thrown off by Jing Chi’s bravado. But eyeing his slender frame with clear disdain, they advanced on him together.

Yet in just a few exchanges—less than ten minutes—Jing Chi had both of them flat on the ground.

The burly men writhed on the floor, clutching their stomachs and groaning in agony, their faces contorted in pain.

Jing Chi shook out his hands with a helpless shrug. “Tch. I figured seven minutes would do it, but it took two extra.”

The manager: “!!!”

Seeing the tide turn, he bolted for the exit.

Jing Chi was about to chase him down and give him a piece of his mind when the System chimed in. “Host, the police and Feng Qinghan will be here in three minutes.”

Figuring the guy would run straight into the cops anyway, Jing Chi let him go.

His gaze shifted back to the two men groaning on the ground. A sly smile curved his lips, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

The young man’s smile was breathtakingly handsome, but to those two, it might as well have been the devil’s grin. Terror overrode their pain, and they scrambled out the door on hands and knees.

“Alright, stage cleared. Now it’s my turn to perform.”

Jing Chi glanced at his hand, gritted his teeth, and punched himself in the face. “Hiss!” His cheek swelled up instantly.

“Ah, Host! Why’d you hit yourself?” the System yelped.

Jing Chi mumbled through swollen lips, “Self-inflicted wound ploy.”

After all, showing up dirty but otherwise unscathed would’ve looked too suspicious.

The moment Feng Qinghan shoved open the door, he saw Jing Chi’s body crumpling to the floor.

“Jing Chi!”

He couldn’t hold back the shout. He rushed over and carefully gathered the fallen man into his arms.

“How are you feeling?”

His voice trembled faintly as his fingertips brushed the bruise on the young man’s face with exquisite care.

Jing Chi drew in a soft breath, his lashes fluttering as he slowly opened his eyes.

“Brother,” he murmured weakly, reaching up to touch Feng Qinghan’s cheek. “You’re here.”

“Tell me where it hurts. I’ll carry you out.” Feng Qinghan started to lift him, but Jing Chi shook his head.

“Brother… can we end this cold war?” Jing Chi forced out the words with apparent effort.

Feng Qinghan froze for a split second. He narrowed his eyes, studying Jing Chi intently, then uttered a single syllable: “Mm.”

Jing Chi was too busy playing up his near-death act to notice the shift in Feng Qinghan’s expression.

“That’s wonderful,” Jing Chi said. He clutched his chest and coughed a few times, managing a feeble smile. “If Brother would just kiss me one more time… I’d die content.”

“Sure.” Feng Qinghan’s gaze darkened. Without hesitation, he reached out and prodded the bruise on Jing Chi’s face.

Jing Chi shot upright with a yelp, clutching the spot. “Ow! Brother, why’d you poke my wound?”

Feng Qinghan stared at him in silence.

Only then did Jing Chi realize he’d blown his cover. He flashed a placating grin. “Heh, Brother, I was just kidding around.”

Feng Qinghan rose to his feet, his face icy cold and his tone stern. “Not funny.”

The man turned to leave. Jing Chi scrambled up and hurried after him. “Brother, wait for me!”

Feng Qinghan would never tell Jing Chi that the instant he saw him collapse, his heart had nearly stopped.

He didn’t dare imagine what he’d do if something truly happened to Jing Chi—what he might become.

Truth be told, he should have seen through the act from the start. Aside from the bruise on his face, the young man bore no other injuries. His complexion was rosy, his eyes bright and alert—none of it added up to someone in real peril.

It was just his momentary panic and worry that had stripped away his physician’s cool composure.

Moreover, as he’d entered, those three men had fled in abject terror, right into the arms of the police. He’d assumed it was fear of capture, but it was far more likely fear of Jing Chi himself.

Jing Chi and Feng Qinghan went to the police station together to give their statements, then headed smoothly back home.

The atmosphere in the car froze solid. Jing Chi opened his mouth to speak, but a single glance from Feng Qinghan scared the words right back down his throat.

The two of them returned to the villa in silence all the way.

After getting out of the car, Jing Chi trailed behind Feng Qinghan like a frightened quail. Once they were inside the house, he couldn’t hold back any longer and reached out to tug at the man’s hand.

But Feng Qinghan brushed it off coolly.

Jing Chi clutched his cheek and let out a cry. “Brother.”

He followed it with two sharp hisses of pain. Sure, he’d inflicted the injury on himself, but it still hurt like hell.

The man acted like he hadn’t heard a thing and strode straight inside.

“I’m mad,” Jing Chi said in his mind. “The kind of mad that can’t be coaxed away. He’s going too far. Yeah, the injury was fake, but the kidnapping was real—and he doesn’t even care about me.”

Jing Chi sighed, feeling deeply aggrieved.

Before the System could respond, Feng Qinghan called out to him. “Come here.”

And the host who’d just declared himself furious immediately trotted right over.

Only then did Jing Chi notice that Feng Qinghan had gone to fetch an ice pack.

“I knew Brother wouldn’t ignore me,” Jing Chi thought, his mood lifting instantly.

“Shut up.” Feng Qinghan glanced up at him, his voice cold as he scolded, “Do you want it to hurt even more? Quit talking so much.”

Knowing the man was all cold exterior but warm inside—that this was his way of showing concern—Jing Chi obediently clamped his mouth shut.

He tilted his face up, watching as Feng Qinghan gently pressed the ice pack against his cheek.

They were standing close, close enough for Jing Chi to clearly make out the man’s distinct, feathery lashes, the focused intensity in those pale brown eyes, and the tiny reflection of himself gazing back.

After a while with the ice, the pain in his face had eased considerably.

“Hold it yourself,” Feng Qinghan said flatly.

Jing Chi reached for it but didn’t quite take it—instead, he covered the man’s hand with his own.

He gently clasped Feng Qinghan’s cool fingers and blinked up at him pitifully. “Brother, let’s make up, okay?”

Feng Qinghan pulled his hand away. Seeing the sudden disappointment in the young man’s eyes, he hesitated, then finally softened with a helpless sigh. “Fine.”

He couldn’t resist poking Jing Chi’s forehead in warning. “If you pull that acting stunt to trick me again, I won’t go easy on you next time.”

Jing Chi nodded eagerly, then leaned forward from his seated position and wrapped his arms around Feng Qinghan’s waist.

The man’s waist was slim yet solidly muscled, just the right amount to hold onto comfortably.

Jing Chi was very pleased. To prolong the embrace, he began shamelessly playing up his misery.

He tentatively buried his face against Feng Qinghan, inhaling the man’s familiar scent, and murmured softly, “Brother, you’re the first person who’s ever worried about me like this.”

Hearing the young man’s words, Feng Qinghan recalled the background information he’d dug up on him earlier.

Considering Jing Chi’s family situation, the old Feng Qinghan would have dismissed it coldly without sympathy. But now, he felt a pang of heartache.

His hand came to rest gently on the young man’s soft hair, stroking it in a soothing motion.

Jing Chi seized the moment, hugging him tighter. “So, Brother, you’ll never leave me, right?”

Knowing Jing Chi couldn’t see his face, Feng Qinghan tugged his lips into a wry smile.

He’d been the one worrying that this guy might bolt at any moment, and here he was, being asked the exact same question by the person in his arms.

Whether he left or not wasn’t entirely up to him.

When Feng Qinghan didn’t answer right away, Jing Chi looked up in confusion.

Under that gaze full of eager anticipation, he finally heard a quiet “Mm” from Feng Qinghan—though it sounded a bit distracted.

Seizing the rare chance that Feng Qinghan was in such an agreeable mood, Jing Chi pressed his luck. “Brother, give me a kiss.”

He leaned in, puckering his lips.

The next second, Feng Qinghan swatted his cheek lightly and pushed him away, reverting to his usual aloof demeanor. “Don’t push your luck.”

Jing Chi could only regretfully shelve his naughty little schemes.

.

The kidnapping case sent Jing Chi’s popularity soaring once again.

Some people wondered who had streamed that video live—maybe Jing Chi was just hyping himself up.

But when a body was pulled from the water, all the doubters shut their mouths for good.

The police never figured out who the streamer was, and the case eventually went cold.

[Oh my god, I can’t even imagine what would’ve happened to Jing Chi if the police had arrived any later.]

[I never thought there’d be such a beast in human skin. How dare he try something like that in a society governed by law.]

As the buzz kept building, one of Jing Chi’s elementary school classmates soon posted a comment on Weibo, recounting the story of Jing Chi’s beastly father.

[I still remember it like it was yesterday—back in sixth grade, on a freezing winter day, Jing Chi’s dad beat him while he was dressed in thin clothes and then threw him out. He was so skinny back then, shivering uncontrollably in the cold. My grandma took pity on him and let him stay with us. Otherwise, we might never have seen the Jing Chi we know today.]

[Your grandma is an angel. Thanks to kindhearted folks like her.]

[Oh god, my baby suffered so much.]

One comment sparked an avalanche of replies from others.

Bit by bit, through countless individual accounts, people pieced together the tragic details of Jing Chi’s childhood.

He was a kid savagely beaten by his father in his youth. He studied hard every day, dreaming of the day he’d grow up. Finally escaping his father’s clutches as an adult, he began to shine in the career he loved. But then, after accidentally offending the wrong person, he found himself smeared with lies. And that man who didn’t deserve the title of father twisted the narrative completely, turning from abuser into victim.

[God, I had no idea Jing Chi had it so rough.]

[Sobbing. It’s okay, Jing Bao. Mommy loves you from now on.]

Jing Chi’s Weibo followers surged by the thousands.

Meanwhile, with the manager’s arrest, all his dirty deeds came to light one after another. In the end, he faced just one outcome: the death penalty.

Jing Chi stared at the comments flooding his Weibo—Jing Bao this, Mommy loves you that, Mommy adores you.

His expression turned peculiar. How had he suddenly acquired so many moms just like that?