Chapter 41: Don’t

It was perfectly normal for an adult man to have physical needs. Someone like Dai Linxuan, who was fully functional yet remained single at thirty without a bed partner, was a rare exception.

Lai Li completely understood how prolonged abstinence could lead to a powerful rebound. He convinced himself that even if Dai Linxuan was at Cloud Summit, he was first and foremost a person, not some desireless deity. Sex wouldn’t shatter him; instead, it would add to his completeness.

So, if Dai Linxuan couldn’t return to normal anytime soon and needed someone to satisfy his needs, it could absolutely be him.

It could only be him.

Lai Li licked his canine tooth, staring intently.

Because of that earlier tug, the top button of Dai Linxuan’s shirt had come undone, and the second one was half-open. With a gentle pull, it parted to reveal a patch of fair chest and the sharp line of his collarbone.

Paired with the silky black shirt, the visual impact was particularly striking.

If his brother had pheromones like an animal, they would surely smell like poppies—seductive and insidious.

Lai Li tilted his head slightly, thinking obsessively and possessively that if any other man besides himself saw this sight, they should all die.

Just as he was about to kiss his brother’s collarbone, a hand shot in, gripped his jaw, and forcefully pressed him back into the sofa.

“Find you?” Dai Linxuan’s thumb lifted slightly, forcing Lai Li to raise his chin and meet his gaze. “My comprehension might be lacking. Please explain in detail.”

“I can help you, just like that morning.” Lai Li had wanted to say other things were possible too, but his peripheral vision caught the skin on his shoulder, so he held back. “Compared to outsiders, I’m obviously the better choice.”

“Oh?” Dai Linxuan’s voice was very soft, as if it were just a question. “What’s so good about finding you?”

“First of all, you don’t like them.”

“Does that matter?” There was no ripple in Dai Linxuan’s eyes. “Feelings can be cultivated. Given enough time, there’s no difference.”

Lai Li’s pupils contracted slightly. Stung by those words, he clenched his fist, popping another button off Dai Linxuan’s shirt. A bizarre, twisted emotion surged like waves crashing fiercely against the shore in a storm.

“They’ll bring you trouble. I won’t.” Lai Li tried his best to suppress it. “Bro, you know it—I would never betray you.”

Lai Li’s idea of betrayal clearly didn’t mean cheating. Of course, if things developed that way, it wouldn’t even be called cheating. Lai Li clearly only intended to become his brother’s tool for venting desire, nothing more.

“I’m not like them, begging for money or love, insatiable, liable to betray you for external forces at any moment, or even expose things in the light and damage your reputation. I just stand where you need me—hassle-free and effortless.” Red marks had formed on Lai Li’s jaw from the grip, but he felt no pain. He struggled forcefully, turning his head to kiss Dai Linxuan’s fingertips. “The risk of choosing me is minimal, isn’t it?”

Dai Linxuan recoiled as if pricked by a needle and abruptly let go.

The heart was connected to the fingers.

These absurd, delusional words coming from Lai Li’s mouth were hardly surprising.

Dai Linxuan had no desire to comment or respond. He simply pried off Lai Li’s fingers one by one from his shirt. Straightening up, he looked down at Lai Li for a moment. “I’ll give you a chance to take it back. Pretend I never heard those words tonight.”

“…”

Lai Li’s gaze darkened inscrutably as he stared straight at his brother’s back—

Hadn’t he said that night that he wouldn’t hold back his desire for him if he crossed the line again? Had he misunderstood?

Dai Linxuan went to the kitchen, grabbed an ice pack, wrapped it in a towel, and returned to the living room. By then, Lai Li had sat up. He slapped the ice pack onto Lai Li’s shoulder.

“Hold it for five minutes.”

The bruise was right next to the spot from the sulfuric acid splash last time. It felt rough to the touch, and it would take a long time for new skin to replace it—or it might never metabolize fully, leaving a permanent scar.

Lai Li truly lived up to the phrase “body covered in scars.”

Dai Linxuan touched it briefly before withdrawing his hand. “Are you still applying the scar removal cream?”

Lai Li’s eyes flickered slightly. “Yes.”

Dai Linxuan said nothing more. He turned toward the kitchen and said without looking back, “Sit still. Don’t follow me.”

Lai Li paused in the middle of standing up.

Even with some furniture added, the house still lacked any sense of life. It was impeccably clean, like a model home in some luxury complex—exquisite and beautiful, but devoid of any traces of living.

The study door was closed. The surveillance footage showed Dai Linxuan hadn’t entered it for three days. He came home very late every day, occasionally sat in the living room for a bit, and spent most of his time in the bedroom.

Sounds came from the kitchen: the gas stove igniting, the fridge drawer sliding open and shut. Soon, dumplings plopped one by one into the boiling water.

One, two, four… plop, plop.

For a moment, Lai Li couldn’t tell if it was the sound of dumplings hitting the water or his own increasingly rapid heartbeat.

He couldn’t help but bite the pad of his finger to ease the persistent anxiety gnawing at his heart.

“Come eat.” The call came from the dining room.

Lai Li snapped back to reality, released his still-unhealed finger, and walked to the table to pull out a chair and sit.

Dai Linxuan knew Lai Li’s appetite and boiled twenty-five dumplings in total, along with a spicy dipping sauce. He also poured a small dish of vinegar and placed it in front of Lai Li.

Lai Li grabbed his hand. “Bro, don’t go.”

“I’ve already eaten dinner.” Dai Linxuan tugged his hand. “The pot still needs washing.”

Lai Li wouldn’t let go, gripping tightly. “I’ll wash it after I eat.”

The kitchen had a dishwasher, but for just a pot and a plate, there was no need.

Dai Linxuan frowned slightly. The skin where Lai Li gripped him felt scraped by something uneven. He countered by grabbing Lai Li’s hand and rolled up the sleeve to look.

There was a bite mark less than a centimeter long on Lai Li’s fingertip—one Dai Linxuan had seen a week ago. But the wound showed no signs of healing; clearly, its owner visited it often. The surrounding skin was soft and pale, the break sunken in.

“Why are you biting it again?”

“Bit it by accident.” Lai Li pulled his hand back, picked up his chopsticks, and started eating the dumplings. “—Did you see Song Zichu tonight?”

Dai Linxuan looked at him for a long while before going to the bar counter to pour himself a glass of wine. “I did.”

Lai Li tilted his head. “What did he say to you?”

Dai Linxuan took a sip from his glass, his half-lidded gaze falling on Lai Li’s face. “Do I need to write a report of every man I meet each day and what we talk about, and submit it to you?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Lai Li’s brows furrowed tightly. “Stay away from him. He’s no good.”

“Neither am I.” Dai Linxuan leaned on the marble counter, his fingers curling to tap lightly twice. “Lai Li, aren’t our ‘chance encounters’ happening a bit too frequently?”

“…Today wasn’t a chance encounter.” Lai Li said expressionlessly. “I went there specifically to find you.”

Besides, it wasn’t frequent at all. Once a week on average was already the result of his utmost restraint.

Dai Linxuan rubbed his wine glass. “When you called me this evening, I was thinking if you hadn’t eaten dinner yet, you could wait for me and we’d eat together… After hanging up, I agreed to He Xunzhang’s invitation.”

So how did Lai Li know he’d gone to Cloud Summit?

Song Zichu had said he hadn’t told Lai Li, and that was probably true—after all, it was an easily disproven lie. Others at Cloud Summit might have tipped him off, or even someone in the private room could be Lai Li’s friend. But Lai Li had run into him far too many times.

Lai Li picked up a dumpling, dipped it in sauce. “I think someone else is behind getting Xu Yanzhou close to you, so I had someone tailing him.”

“Any results?”

“Not yet.”

Xu Yanzhou was still working at Jiang Feng as Tang Xueda’s assistant, living a rigid two-point routine every day, interacting almost exclusively with the Tang family father and son.

“Pull them off.”

“No way.” Lai Li said without hesitation. “As long as he keeps trying to get close to you, I won’t let him go.”

Dai Linxuan gripped his wine glass tightly, his head aching from anger at Lai Li.

Lai Li finished the last few dumplings in big bites, took the plate to the sink, and slowly sorted through his thoughts. “Bro, do you allow him near you because he resembles me a bit, or do you have some other purpose?”

Dai Linxuan drained the last of his wine and rinsed the glass. “It has nothing to do with you.”

He left without looking back. It was already late, the clock pointing to ten.

When Lai Li came out after washing the dishes, he saw neatly laid out on the second bedroom bed: pajamas, a bathrobe, towels, and even a new pair of underwear.

The master bedroom door was locked from the inside.

Lai Li stood there for a moment before slowly releasing the door handle.

He returned to the second bedroom, picked up the clothes, and went into the bathroom.

Perhaps because Dai Linxuan had rejected him, or perhaps because of the confrontation with Song Zichu tonight, as steam filled the bathroom, he felt transported back many years—or maybe just yesterday. The crowd surged around him, noisy and frenzied. They waved their hands, their faces twisted savagely, roaring in drug-fueled ecstasy: “Get up! Kill him!”

Across from him stood Song Zichu, who had been the same height as him back then.

No, back then he wasn’t called Song Zichu yet. They had no names.

The instant Lai Li threw a punch, his other hand twisted the cold water faucet hard. The biting chill rapidly dispersed the steam and jolted him fully awake.

He stepped out of the bathroom and saw that an extra box of anti-inflammatory medicine and some bandages had appeared on the bed.

…

Dai Linxuan didn’t sleep soundly. Vaguely, he felt something crawling under his clothes, like a mouse scurrying about, rustling softly. It grazed his waist and abdomen with its teeth, leaving a trail of tingling itchiness.

The sleeping pills made it hard for him to open his eyes. He subconsciously tried to swat it away, but as soon as he touched something slightly coarse and furry, his wrist was seized and pinned aside.

A voice whispered faintly in his ear: “Bro…”

His body felt constricted like by a python, tightening ever more.

Dai Linxuan’s brows furrowed tighter and tighter until he could bear it no longer. He snapped open his eyes and flung off the blanket.

Lai Li was crouched between his legs, giving it a gentle lick before lifting his dark, heavy gaze and saying considerately, “Bro, taking sleeping pills all the time isn’t good for your health.”

Dai Linxuan quickly grabbed Lai Li’s hair. “What the hell are you doing!?”

“You’ll lose your vigilance too…” Lai Li braced his arms on either side of Dai Linxuan’s body, crawling up a couple of steps on his knees until he was face-to-face, flashing a smile. “If it were someone else, they could’ve taken plenty of compromising photos of you by now.”

The medicine he’d just taken made Dai Linxuan’s head foggy and heavy. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming.

But it wasn’t a dream. Lai Li had truly pried open his door and climbed into his bed.

Dai Linxuan’s fingers clenched, knuckles cracking and turning white from the force. “Lai Li, are you drunk?”

“No.” Lai Li stuck out his tongue and breathed at him to prove his sobriety. “Not a drop of alcohol.”

Dai Linxuan’s tone had never been so cold—it sent chills down the spine. “Then please tell me what you’re doing.”

“It’s obvious.” Ignoring the pain from his hair being pulled, Lai Li buried his face in Dai Linxuan’s neck, licking the long-coveted collarbone. “To prove I wasn’t joking—you can come to me anytime you need.”

“Come to you?” Dai Linxuan pinched Lai Li’s neck from the side, forcing his head up. “Coming to you is the biggest risk. Lai Li, you’re my brother. Sleeping with someone else makes me gay at worst. Sleeping with you? That’s defying ethics. If the world finds out, how do you think they’ll judge it?”

These words sounded familiar. Lai Li’s ears hurt.

“Bro, what’s with your inconsistent morality toward me?” Lai Li tilted his head, pressing his neck deeper into Dai Linxuan’s palm. “Wasn’t it you who shoved your dick in my mouth when you first got back?”

Dai Linxuan had never uttered a single curse word in his life. He was nearly rendered speechless by Lai Li’s crudely vulgar remarks, feeling a suffocating tightness in his chest like cardiac arrest. He closed his eyes and said nothing for a long while.

“No one will know.” Lai Li said. “You said it yourself—I’ll always be your brother. Our relationship will be a shield. Even going everywhere together is normal. Unless someone plants a camera right by your bed and films us fucking, how would they ever know?”

“Outsiders are too easy to expose. Just one close-up photo, and they can spin endless stories—but only I won’t impact your life or career.”

Ignoring the suffocation, Lai Li forcibly hugged Dai Linxuan and kissed his Adam’s apple. Dai Linxuan shuddered, finally snapping out of it like from a dream, and abruptly released his grip.

“…Get off.”

Lai Li, like a wicked yet innocent devil, coaxed softly, “I’m not hard to deal with. When you don’t need me anymore, we can end it anytime—no burden at all.”

Dai Linxuan’s slightly hoarse voice was low and heavy as he repeated, “Get off.”

Lai Li still wanted to say more: “Bro…”

“I don’t need it now, and I won’t need it in the future.” Dai Linxuan’s glass-like hazel pupils darkened unbearably at that moment, his gaze falling on Lai Li with a heavy weight. “That morning was my fault; I set a bad example for you. I’ve said it before—you go to the police, and I absolutely won’t shirk responsibility.”

Lai Li’s face darkened as he warned, “I’ve said it too, Dai Linxuan. Don’t talk to me like that.”

Dai Linxuan seized the opportunity, shoving Lai Li off him and stumbling a step into the slippers by the bed. He couldn’t suppress the spasms in his throat no matter what.

Even knowing he shouldn’t, even having decided to let go, his body still responded uncontrollably.

This was the little brother he had raised himself. He had watched him grow from waist-height to now, hugged him countless times, coaxed him countless times, bathed him, fed him, taught him to read and write… Even if he didn’t love him, he actually felt desire for him.

Lai Li got off the bed and had only taken two steps when he heard Dai Linxuan rasp, “Don’t come over.”

The short distance from the bed to the bathroom door exhausted Dai Linxuan completely. He leaned against the door and glanced back slightly. “If you can’t bring yourself to call the police, then wait a while. I’ll give you an explanation.”

“Little Chestnut, I promise I won’t neglect you because of anyone. No one can replace your position, so you don’t need to do these things… to confirm anything.”

“I know,” Lai Li murmured.

Dai Linxuan didn’t catch it clearly; he didn’t even have the strength to twitch his lips. His stomach churned relentlessly, and his temples throbbed with pain. He took a step forward, about to slam the bathroom door shut.

A hand approached silently, stopping his movement, and a scorching body pressed against him from behind.

Dai Linxuan’s throat bobbed. Just as he thought Lai Li hadn’t listened and was steeling himself to make it clearer despite the discomfort, he suddenly spoke up—

“Bro, I’ve never had the problem of blacking out.”