Chapter 2: Doctor Bottom x Celebrity Top

Jing Chi walked over and first untied the ropes binding the man. He patted the man’s cheek, but there was hardly any reaction. Instead, the man slumped straight into his arms.

A faint scent of disinfectant drifted from the man in his embrace right to Jing Chi’s nose, mingled with a subtle, pleasant aroma he couldn’t quite put into words. Strangely enough, it felt familiar, as if he’d smelled it somewhere before.

It was like something long buried in the depths of his memory had cracked open, just a sliver.

Jing Chi pinched the man’s chin and studied him intently.

His pale eyes held a trace of profundity, mirroring the man’s refined features across from him. His gaze drifted involuntarily to the mole beneath the eye.

A fleeting image flashed through his mind: himself leaning in to gently kiss that very mole on someone.

It had looked just like this when it flushed red.

But the vision vanished as quickly as it had come.

Jing Chi frowned, wondering if he’d truly met this man before.

They stood face-to-face, so close their breaths mingled, an undercurrent of intimacy hanging in the air.

It was mostly his stare—intense, almost tender.

After a moment, Jing Chi gave up. He muttered to himself, “Sigh, can’t remember. What a headache. Better find somewhere to crash first.”

Just then, without warning, the man in his arms stirred.

In the next instant, he lunged forward, his lips landing precisely on Jing Chi’s, as if zeroed in on them.

He clearly had no idea how to kiss, merely rubbing his lips instinctively against the seam of Jing Chi’s.

The faint tang of alcohol, laced with the man’s unique scent, seeped through those soft lips into Jing Chi’s mouth.

Jing Chi froze for a second at the sudden move. He lifted his eyes to meet the man’s hazy yet strikingly beautiful gaze.

He hesitated only a few seconds before a smirk tugged at his lips. When something was served up on a silver platter, who was he to turn it down?

He gripped the back of the man’s head and kissed him back—though “bit” might have been more accurate.

Truth be told, he wanted to test if he could recapture that elusive sense of familiarity, but this time, his memory offered no clues.

The metallic tang of blood threaded between their lips and tongues.

In the end, the barely conscious Feng Qinghan couldn’t stomach the bloody taste. He turned his head away and slumped against Jing Chi’s shoulder, looking almost docile.

The System watched from the sidelines, feeling its circuits heat up. “Host, have you fallen for the villain? We’re not against you dating, you know.”

But no sooner had the words left it than Jing Chi wiped the corner of his mouth, let out a deep sigh, stood up, and hoisted the man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes—casual as could be.

The intimate tension evaporated in an instant.

The System blanked out for a second, unsure what to say.

“Uh, what was that you said earlier?”

Jing Chi lifted his eyes lazily, all nonchalance, as if he hadn’t been the one locking lips moments ago.

“N-Nothing,” the System stammered.

Jing Chi paid no mind to the System’s awkwardness. He just had this nagging sense that he’d lost some memories.

He’d never noticed it before, but now that he was here and had run into this guy, something inside him had stirred.

Which meant those memories were probably tied to him somehow. But people from different worlds—how could they be connected?

Jing Chi glanced toward the System bound to him. Was this fabled “fate” really just that?

His eyes darkened briefly before settling back to normal.

.

Jing Chi hauled the man to a nearby hotel. Heads turned in shock all along the way, but he couldn’t have cared less.

Once inside the room, he deposited the man on the bed. He’d half a mind to toss him down, but that handsome face—and the kiss they’d shared—prompted a touch more care.

That was about as gentle as it got, though. Playing nursemaid? Not for this slacker.

“Man, I’m starving.”

Jing Chi rubbed his stomach, face falling.

It had only hit him while paying for the room: the original host was dirt poor. After shelling out, he had just 10.85 yuan in cash left.

A quick check of his phone showed the balance was under three digits.

“Hmm, not too shabby. Enough for a snack.”

Cheered by the thought, Jing Chi headed out to reward himself.

After all, he’d barely arrived in this world before rushing off to save the villain. Talk about dedication.

The System itched to point out that the villain was drugged—shouldn’t he take some precautions?

But with the host this hungry, things would probably be fine after a bite to eat.

The System quietly logged off.

The room quickly fell silent.

At that moment, the man on the bed suddenly sat up.

He struggled to open his eyes. The unfamiliar surroundings made him frown slightly, but the last remnants of his clarity were soon overwhelmed by the drug’s effects.

Feng Qinghan felt a scorching heat surging through his body from within. He yanked open the buttons of his shirt and staggered toward the bathroom, his body heavy and unwieldy.

Soon, the sound of running water came from the bathroom. Water droplets soaked through his shirt, the thin fabric clinging tightly to his skin.

Perhaps the cool water brought him a bit of relief, as the furrow in his brow finally eased.

In the steamy haze, a veil of mist softened his exquisite features, making them faintly visible.

Having finished foraging for food, Jing Chi finally returned to the room at the System’s urging.

As soon as he opened the door, he heard the sound of water from the bathroom, mingled with a few low, ambiguous gasps.

He raised an eyebrow and glanced toward the bathroom.

Due to his limited funds, he had booked a large double room, and the bathroom’s frosted glass offered only a hazy silhouette of the person inside.

Perhaps it was because Jing Chi’s eyesight was too sharp, but that glimpse of skin seemed almost transparently pale, tinged with a faint pink, paired with those seductive breaths.

Jing Chi’s breath hitched.

Even with his thick skin, he felt a touch of embarrassment—though just a touch.

He cleared his throat lightly and walked over to the window, gazing at the lights below.

After a while, the sounds from the bathroom stopped, but the man didn’t come out.

“Host, he seems to have passed out,” the System whispered.

Jing Chi let out an enigmatic chuckle. “His stamina is that poor?”

He stepped into the bathroom. Feng Qinghan’s shirt hung half-on, half-off his body. The man was slumped against the edge of the tub, pillowing his head on his arm, exposing half of his pale back. A thin layer of muscle traced its contours, glistening with water droplets.

The flush had faded from his face, but his eyes were still damp at the corners, his hair disheveled and plastered to his forehead. Curled up like that, he exuded an inexplicable sense of docility.

In reality, Jing Chi knew full well how unapproachable this man was when he was sober.

Jing Chi approached and prodded his forehead. No response. With a helpless sigh, he bent down, scooped the man up, and carried him back to the bed. Along the way, he stripped off the soaked clothes and tucked him under the covers.

The two of them ended up lying together on the bed. After all, the man was half a patient, and Jing Chi wasn’t so heartless as to make him sleep on the floor—nor would he sleep on the floor himself.

He first stared at Feng Qinghan’s face for a long while.

Then he turned his gaze to the ceiling, lost in thought.

The System couldn’t hold back any longer. “Host, what are you looking at?”

“I’m looking at…” Jing Chi drew out his words, then suddenly turned serious. “Whatever happened to the promise of endless money to spend while I just lay around like a slacker? Are those ten yuan and eighty-five fen in my wallet mocking me?”

The System choked on the sudden shift. “Cough cough cough… Um, Host, well, that…”

“Let’s see you talk your way out of this.” Jing Chi’s tone was lazy and drawling, not accusatory at all, yet the System inexplicably felt a twinge of fear.

“Host, why don’t you just latch onto the villain? Then we’d have money,” the System suggested slyly.

Jing Chi let out another ambiguous huff.

He turned his head back to stare at Feng Qinghan. Five minutes passed, and who knew what crossed his mind, but he said to the System, “Actually, it’s not impossible.”

Jing Chi sat up, stripped off his clothes, and began running his hands over his own body.

“Host, what are you doing?” The System’s virtual head filled with question marks.

“Doing what it takes to latch onto him, obviously.” Jing Chi arched a brow. “Some things are better left unknown to a single-celled System like you.”

Seeing the meaningful look in his Host’s eyes, the System seemed to suddenly understand. The entire System went haywire.

~~~

Morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, falling onto the large bed. The man’s eyelashes fluttered lightly, and he slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze shifted swiftly from confusion to sharpness, laced with a deep, inky darkness—like thick ink, carrying a hint of gloom.

Feng Qinghan surveyed his surroundings. This was a strange place that held no place in his memories.

His last recollection was the moment he had driven Lu Shichen to the brink of madness. Then his consciousness had plunged into darkness—for a very long time.

When he opened his eyes again, he was here.

At that moment, a warm breath tickled his neck, bringing a faint itch.

Feng Qinghan narrowed his eyes slightly and shifted his gaze to his side. A refined face came into view.

The Feng Qinghan of the past might have sighed that this man was truly handsome, but the current him felt no ripples in his heart—no extra emotions at all. He only felt a deep wariness.

He sat up and coldly seized Jing Chi’s wrist. His tone was low and icy. “Who are you?”

Jing Chi had woken the moment Feng Qinghan stirred, but his curiosity about the man’s reaction had kept him feigning sleep.

In the end, though, the guy had grabbed him with such force that if Jing Chi hadn’t held back, he might have snapped the fool’s wrist in a fit of anger.

Jing Chi blinked, masking his inner gloom completely. He gazed at Feng Qinghan with wide, innocent eyes and forced out two tears with great effort. His eyes reddened as he whimpered pitifully, “We did it all yesterday, and now you’re being so mean to me. You have to take responsibility.”

Doing it amounted to giving the guy a bath, but he still had to take responsibility.

That was what Jing Chi affirmed to himself deep down. After all, he’d never done anything like this for anyone else.

Without missing a beat, Jing Chi deliberately tugged the quilt lower, exposing skin marred with faint bruises and purples.

Feng Qinghan froze. For all his vast experience, he’d never encountered a situation like this.

A stunning young man, covered in suspicious marks, looking all aggrieved as he demanded responsibility.

The problem was, he didn’t recognize this youth at all.

“You’d better tell me the truth.”

Feng Qinghan’s gaze was piercing as he scrutinized him, but he first released his grip on Jing Chi’s wrist.

Jing Chi shook out his wrist and eyed the reddened skin with some dissatisfaction.

Then his eyes gleamed with an idea. Before Feng Qinghan could react, he lunged forward, shoving the man flat on his back onto the bed and straddling him.

Their bare skin pressed flush together. Jing Chi watched as Feng Qinghan went rigid, his expression darkening instantly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Jing Chi put on an air of pure innocence. “Telling you what happened, of course.”

He leaned in close, his lips brushing Feng Qinghan’s ear as his warm breath washed over it. He smirked inwardly as the pale lobe flushed pink.

For all his icy facade, the man couldn’t control his body’s instinctive reactions.

In a pitiful whine, he began to explain. “It went like this…”

Jing Chi recounted the full story of the previous night at the bar, glossing over a few details for good measure.

“Then I kindly brought you back here, but last night, you pinned me right here on the bed and… well, you did this to me and that to me.”

Jing Chi ducked his head, feigning bashfulness while fighting back a laugh. When he couldn’t spin the tale any further, he threw caution to the wind and declared righteously, “Anyway, we’ve already slept together, so you have to take responsibility for me.”

Realizing his tone had come out too demanding, he rubbed at his eyes. Tears welled up in an instant, and he blinked up at Feng Qinghan with the look of utter Little Pitiful, all wide-eyed vulnerability.

With a sigh in his heart, Jing Chi reflected that he was usually the one leaving others in tears. Now here he was, sniffling at a man just to snag this soft meal ticket. It wasn’t easy.