Dai Linxuan lifted his hand, held it suspended in the air for two seconds, then lowered it. He pushed away the “large dog” in his arms and walked to the living room sofa, where he sat down.
Lai Li hadn’t said a word, yet he instinctively followed, guided by fragmented images from his hazy memory. He knelt on one side of the sofa with surprising familiarity and leaned toward Dai Linxuan, burying his face between his brother’s legs.
Dai Linxuan looked down at him, thinking, This reckless little bastard has no idea what he’s asking for.
He reached out and pinched the back of Lai Li’s neck. Perhaps because his fingertips were too cool, Lai Li let out a heavy, muffled grunt. He turned his face toward Dai Linxuan’s abdomen and closed his eyes.
Sometimes, Dai Linxuan felt like Lai Li was missing a few screws in his head.
Just a month ago, he’d been forced into that kind of thing by him, and now he could casually rest his face so close without a care.
Was it blind trust? Or had the alcohol stripped away all his intelligence and caution?
Even if he’d been clueless before, now that he knew about his feelings, his desires—why was he still so defenseless against these overly intimate actions?
If it were anyone else, this attitude could be called “scummy”—playing hard to get, stringing him along.
But this was Lai Li. Dai Linxuan didn’t know what to think.
Lai Li had already taken off his jacket, leaving only a thin white undershirt clinging to his narrow, powerful waist. If he gripped too hard, Lai Li’s body would tense, outlining his muscles clearly.
Out of nowhere, Dai Linxuan asked, “What were you thinking about today?”
Lai Li was half-dozing off and took a while to respond with a breathy, “Hm?”
Dai Linxuan asked calmly, “Proactively teaching Wen Yi how to play pool, even getting hands-on—wasn’t that to make me mad?”
“Yeah.” Lai Li propped his forehead on his forearm, his hand landing on Dai Linxuan’s abdomen. With nothing better to do, he fiddled with the shirt buttons. “Stay away from him.”
Dai Linxuan asked, “Why?”
Lai Li didn’t seem drunk at all; his reasoning was clear. “He’s not an adult yet, and he’s from the He Family. Too much contact could give people leverage, make those dating rumors stick.”
Dai Linxuan: “What if it were someone else?”
Lai Li’s brows furrowed deeply. “Who? Xu Yanzhou? No way.”
Dai Linxuan was about to say something when Lai Li added, “No guys.”
Dai Linxuan had heard this before and assumed Lai Li was afraid he’d keep making moves on him, so he was overcorrecting. He hadn’t taken it seriously.
But at that moment, one of Dai Linxuan’s nerves twitched. He suddenly realized that among people approaching him with ulterior motives, Lai Li didn’t seem to mind Huo Shuang.
Because they were a good match socially?
Or because Huo Shuang was a woman?
Dai Linxuan stared blankly at a point in the air, unfocused, but his right hand kept kneading the back of Lai Li’s neck steadily, like some instinctive mechanical motion.
Lai Li: “Bro?”
Dai Linxuan covered his eyes with his other hand, not letting him open them. He stayed silent for a long while. After feeling the faint tickle of eyelashes brushing his palm, his hand trembled slightly before he finally spoke slowly. “Have you thought about your future?”
Lai Li asked, “Who?”
Dai Linxuan said, “You first.”
“I don’t know about the rest,” Lai Li said matter-of-factly. “But I’ll be by your side.”
Dai Linxuan was immune to such ambiguous words by now and just smiled it off.
He asked, “What about me?”
Normally, aside from parents planning for their kids, no one was arrogant enough to map out someone else’s life. Even lovers at most slotted each other into their own plans.
But Lai Li? Lawless, arrogant as always.
His own life plan boiled down to sticking by Dai Linxuan’s side, but his vision for Dai Linxuan’s life was crystal clear and simple: “Don’t do anything outrageous, stay on the straight and narrow. Before forty, marry a woman with a clean record and have kids—ideally well-matched, but if you like her, status doesn’t matter as much. After that, whether you inherit the family business or go independent, live guilt-free, upright, safe, and healthy. In the end, pass away amid universal praise, becoming a legendary tale for posterity.”
Dai Linxuan even saw the corners of Lai Li’s mouth curve up in a smile, as if satisfied with such a life.
It gave Dai Linxuan a whimsical thought: Maybe Lai Li had been his dad in a past life, tormented by him, and now it was payback time, turning the tables to mess with him.
Dai Linxuan asked, “Is being gay a crooked path?”
Lai Li drawled out a slow “Mm.”
Dai Linxuan smiled faintly. So today had indeed been his own wishful thinking.
Lai Li had used Wen Yi to piss him off and wouldn’t let him add Wen Yi’s contact because of the kid’s gender and age—not jealousy. If an adult Xu Yanzhou were a girl, Lai Li wouldn’t have targeted him.
Dai Linxuan lowered his eyelids and massaged Lai Li’s cervical vertebrae, asking calmly, “What if I can’t change?”
Lai Li fell silent for a long time, fiddling with the shirt buttons—unfastening and refastening them.
“Let me guess.” As he thought, Dai Linxuan’s other hand landed on Lai Li’s head, unconsciously ruffling it. “Either a contractual marriage with a woman or deceiving one into marriage. Either way, keep up appearances.”
Lai Li opened his eyes and said after a moment, “Bro, you’re a Dai… You’re not some ordinary guy from the streets.”
“The gay label would bring endless criticism, staining your life with an indelible mark. Break up with a woman, and people believe it’s just incompatibility. Break up with a man, and they say ‘as expected’—gays are debauched, promiscuous.”
A circle’s reputation weighs on every individual like a guillotine ready to drop.
Capitalists form a circle, men form one, gay men form another. And none of them have a great public image.
Dai Linxuan had shed the negative labels from the first two with his words and actions over the years, but the last was the trickiest—it might drag the others back.
Weren’t there enough gay scandals among the rich? Group orgies, scandals with deaths, pedophilia, sham marriages and pregnancies… Not a single positive example of growing old together.
“You care about this reputation even more than I do,” Dai Linxuan thought. Too bad I’m destined to be covered in infamy.
But Lai Li said, “It’s not just empty reputation.”
Dai Linxuan paused, realizing Lai Li genuinely wanted him to live a blameless, honorable life—not just superficially.
A subtle anticipation stirred in him: What would Lai Li’s face look like when he discovered the bright flower grew from rotten, stinking flesh?
Dai Linxuan felt a long-lost pleasure and thrill—even a physical reaction.
That day wasn’t far off.
“Can’t live up to your expectations.” Dai Linxuan kept his thoughts locked tight, his expression unchanged. “Contractual or deceptive marriage—either way, it’s unfair to the other party. It won’t achieve the upright life you envision.”
Lai Li knew that well. A contractual marriage was just an empty shell. And if Dai Linxuan could pull off a sham marriage, he wouldn’t be the Dai Linxuan Lai Li knew.
“So don’t worry about it,” Dai Linxuan said flatly. “Think more about your own future instead.”
Lai Li stayed quiet, his sliding fingers twisting the black shirt fabric into a wrinkled swirl.
Compared to when Lai Li was a kid, the weight on his legs now felt much heavier. Dai Linxuan ran a hand through Lai Li’s hair. “When was the last trim?”
“Three months ago,” Lai Li said. “Didn’t like how that stylist cut it.”
Dai Linxuan asked, “Whose cuts do you like?”
Lai Li pillowed his arms, buried his face in Dai Linxuan’s lap, and nuzzled.
“In a couple days,” Dai Linxuan murmured, stroking the hair at the back of his head and gauging the length. “We can leave a little tail.”
Lai Li was fine with anything.
Dai Linxuan added, “Last time.”
Lai Li jerked his head up, staring at him with no trace of drunkenness in his eyes.
Dai Linxuan suddenly wanted to know: Lai Li was so “dependent” on him—wanting him for holidays, liking only his haircuts, even sleeping beside him at certain times, and throwing moody tantrums if they went too long without seeing each other.
Hadn’t Lai Li’s original “plan” accounted for the fact that once he married and had kids, this companionship couldn’t be routine anymore—might vanish entirely?
Or did Lai Li see his own “loneliness” as a necessary price for Dai Linxuan’s perfect life?
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Dai Linxuan changed the question. “Neck feel better?”
Lai Li wanted to keep going but knew holding the position strained Dai Linxuan, so he reluctantly hummed in agreement.
Dai Linxuan said mildly, “My turn now.”
Lai Li blinked, thinking Dai Linxuan’s neck hurt too. He started to sit up, ready to switch. He might not be great at it, but his imitation skills were good. “Tell me if it hurts.”
Dai Linxuan shifted aside and stood first.
His fingertips pointed down, pressing Lai Li’s shoulder as he loomed over him. “Face down.”
Lai Li’s heart pounded hard. Maybe it was the alcohol’s numbness, or something else—he held his upper body raised, locked in a standoff with Dai Linxuan’s fingertips for a long moment, unmoving.
The living room was deathly quiet.
Dai Linxuan’s jade-like fingers pressed down gently again, and Lai Li’s face met the soft sofa.
“Don’t be scared.” Dai Linxuan’s tone was unexpectedly gentle. He leisurely sat on Lai Li’s back, toes touching the floor, one leg hooked over the other knee. His hand reached for Lai Li’s waistband.
Lai Li reacted fast, grabbing his wrist in a flash. Stiffly, he called out, “Bro!”
“Relax, I’m not flipping the script that fast.” Dai Linxuan soothed, then seized the moment to pull out the belt and bind Lai Li’s hands behind his waist.
In the next second, Dai Linxuan’s face darkened. He menaced, “Be good, or it’ll hurt more.”
Lai Li was stunned, trying to turn, but his shoulders wouldn’t lift. He could flip Dai Linxuan off with sheer strength, but with his hands tied, he couldn’t ensure Dai Linxuan wouldn’t crash into the coffee table.
Dai Linxuan traced his waistline. “Why jeans?”
Full of youthful energy, but a pain to remove.
His hands slipped under Lai Li’s sides from both ends, deftly undoing the button and zipper. As he withdrew, his fingers brushed Lai Li’s tensed, rock-hard abs. Finally, he yanked the waistband down to mid-thigh.
Lai Li’s breathing quickened obviously, his gaze shifting. “Dai Lin—”
Smack!!
Dai Linxuan slapped Lai Li’s ass with nearly full force.
Lai Li froze like stone, his body stiffening inch by inch until he was rigid as logs on the sofa.
Then—smack—another one.
On the other cheek.
Lai Li stayed dazed for ages, in disbelief.
The shorts were still on—so all this fuss was just to spank him, like disciplining a kid.
Lai Li had never known shame before, but now his blood rushed to his face.
His expression turned ugly. Gritting his teeth, he spat out, “Dai! Lin! Xuan!”
Another smack answered him.
Dai Linxuan’s palm burned hot as he looked down at the smooth, full black fabric. The skin beneath must be bright red, maybe swollen.
Too bad he couldn’t pull down the shorts for a look. With the fabric barrier, it was just discipline. Without it, things would take a different turn.
“Never hit you before—hope it’s not too late to teach you now.” Dai Linxuan said flatly. “Ride without a helmet again, and pick a plot in the new Development District cemetery. A multimillion tomb won’t shortchange you.”
“…”
“And stop thinking violence solves your mood swings.” Dai Linxuan landed another slap. “I let you live freely, not dance on the edge of breaking the law.”
Lai Li laughed in fury, twisting his head. “What are you doing then?”
“Oh.” Dai Linxuan glanced at his hand. “This doesn’t count as violence. Like a father, the eldest brother fulfills his duty to raise you right.”
With someone sitting on his back, even breathing was hard. Rage was smothered under his brother’s ass.
Lai Li snapped irritably, “Done? Then get off!”
It had been ages since he’d heard that “get off.” Dai Linxuan actually found it nostalgic. He curled his lip. “What’s the rush?”
Lai Li hadn’t even had a chance to speak when he took another slap. His butt was almost numb.
Dai Linxuan asked softly, “Are you sober now?”
Lai Li didn’t respond. Dai Linxuan didn’t mind. He unlocked Lai Li’s phone, opened their chat, and pressed the voice message button. “Whether you’re sober or not, listen carefully. If you want me to let this go, then stop doing those things that look ambiguous to the public. After all, I’m part of the public too—I can’t escape those conventional judgments.
“If you’re not sure what counts as ambiguous in the public’s eyes, search it online before doing anything, or just stay away from me altogether. No more of that tiresome ‘what a coincidence’ act, okay?
“You should’ve seen it by now over this time—I’m hardly a gentleman. Just because my mind doesn’t misunderstand doesn’t mean my desires won’t override my reason.”
Dai Linxuan grabbed Lai Li’s bound hands and brushed them against himself. “Do you feel the reaction now?”
Lai Li gritted his teeth, pressing his forehead hard against the sofa seam.
“Of course, you’re not allowed to get too intimate with anyone else either.” Dai Linxuan released Lai Li’s hands, stood up, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Half a year from now, you can date whoever you want—man, woman, cat, or dog. I won’t care. Got it, Little Chestnut?”
With that, Dai Linxuan sent the recorded voice message. Then he delivered two more slaps to Lai Li’s butt, one on each side.
This was the end to those two years of ridiculous pain and entanglement.
As if only he remembered.
Ignorance of the law was no excuse. Today, even the king of heaven couldn’t save Lai Li from this beating.
Dai Linxuan leisurely unbuckled his belt and patted Lai Li’s reddened wrists. “Don’t worry about blacking out. I’ll remind you to listen in the morning.”
Without waiting for Lai Li’s reaction, Dai Linxuan strode into the secondary bedroom, feeling utterly refreshed.
He locked the door behind him. After the emotional high, an unusually deep sleepiness washed over his brain. He didn’t even bother washing up—he just wanted to sleep.
