Chapter 66: Other Matters

Dai Linxuan lay on his side next to Lai Li, drifting in and out of a hazy sleep all morning. Nearly every twenty minutes, he jolted awake. The movements were subtle—just a twitch of his fingertips before his eyes fluttered open.

But Lai Li hadn’t slept. He had propped himself up, staring at his brother the whole time, so every awakening was caught in his gaze.

Dai Linxuan didn’t stare blankly out the window for long. Whether he sensed the warmth behind him or recognized his surroundings, he slowly closed his eyelids again.

“Did I wake you?” Lai Li asked softly from behind.

“No, it has nothing to do with you.” Dai Linxuan rolled over, his chin dipping slightly as his entire face pressed against Lai Li’s shoulder. “Stop propping yourself up like that. It’s not good for your wound.”

Lai Li had just settled back down but hesitated before draping an arm over his brother’s shoulders.

In twelve years, Dai Linxuan had rarely shown dependence or vulnerability to him—or anyone. He had always been the perfect eldest son of a wealthy family, a steady and reliable big brother.

But once a person exposed their fragility, they became brittle.

This wasn’t good.

Yet a indescribable, twisted sense of satisfaction welled up in Lai Li’s heart—

No one else would see Dai Linxuan like this. This was a vulnerability only he could glimpse, one he could reach out and toy with.

He wanted it so badly, so badly…

“Bro, have you seen a doctor?” Lai Li asked like a normal person on the surface, but a mad, ink-black desire surged in his eyes—

He wanted to strip his brother bare, hold him tight in his arms, thrust hard, harder, harder still, until they fused seamlessly, melting bit by bit into each other’s flesh, no longer distinct…

The process would surely be exquisite.

Unfortunately, in this mundane world, it was impossible to fulfill that wish while still alive.

They would have to wait until death, then feed them together into the incinerator, their ashes mingling.

But that was fine. No matter how much Lai Li wanted to shatter his toy, he would hold back with all his might and protect it carefully… as long as his brother didn’t show this side to anyone else.

Dai Linxuan’s voice was low and tender: “Of course I have. Who else would prescribe my sleeping pills?”

“I mean a psychiatrist,” Lai Li said.

Dai Linxuan sounded a bit helpless: “Little Chestnut, I really don’t…”

“I believe you didn’t self-harm.” Lai Li threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of his brother’s head, rubbing gently. “But you used to sleep fine, never had insomnia. There has to be a reason.”

With his eyes closed, Dai Linxuan said, “There are too many headaches at home… Back when I first went abroad, Grandpa called all the time, trying to force me to come back and take Mom down.”

Lai Li sneered, “That old man was so convinced the car accident was murder. Why didn’t he report it himself? Stir up some public opinion, pull some strings—the police would have investigated thoroughly.”

“Rumors are one thing; solid evidence is another. Mom’s position and influence aren’t what they used to be. He didn’t dare act rashly, fearing it would destabilize the group or tarnish the family reputation. So he pinned his hopes on me ‘succeeding’ and quietly resolving it.”

With a blank expression, Lai Li asked, “If I asked why you didn’t intervene two years ago but suddenly want to now, would you dodge that too?”

“When have I ever dodged…” Dai Linxuan shifted his hand, resting it lightly on Lai Li’s waist wound. Hot body heat seeped steadily through the gauze.

“I did go abroad because of you back then. Later, I used you as an excuse to avoid it guilt-free… But I carry the Dai name, Dai blood in my veins. Where could I run forever? I had to face it eventually.”

The old Dai Linxuan had been something of an idealist. Upon reaching adulthood, he had seen the world’s harsh underbelly through ten-year-old Lai Li.

He felt he had gained more advantages than most and thus owed more in return. So after succeeding in business, he founded the Ximu Charity Foundation to help other pitiful children as much as he could.

Sadly, this wasn’t an ideal world, and idealism couldn’t last.

As the years passed, things grew muddled. He came to understand “fate not in one’s hands, body not one’s own.”

Lai Li asked, “So now you’ve decided to help Mom?”

Dai Linxuan chuckled, pausing before answering: “I’m not helping anyone.”

Lai Li bit down on Dai Linxuan’s mouth.

Dai Linxuan dodged back a little: “Contagious…”

Lai Li wasn’t kissing him—he was purely biting, like a dog clamping onto his lower lip and tugging harder and harder, as if trying to tear off a chunk to chew.

Lai Li was so furious he felt dizzy. It was always like this—changing the subject, half-truths and half-lies.

Dai Linxuan mumbled thickly, “Easy there. If you break the skin, it’ll show.”

Lai Li grew even more irritated, grinding down viciously. Dai Linxuan didn’t struggle, letting him vent until he released his teeth just before drawing blood.

“Dai Linxuan, can you just—”

Dai Linxuan pushed himself up, pinning his shoulders for a deep kiss.

In less than two seconds, Lai Li forgot himself.

His mind went blank, only echoes of anger lingering. He vaguely remembered having something to say… but what? He’d bring it up tonight.

…

That evening, Dai Linxuan brought a wheelchair and pushed Lai Li to the island’s restaurant for dinner under the sunset.

Of course, Lai Li could only eat beef and shrimp; everything else was off-limits.

Dai Linxuan watched him taste the other dishes one by one, smiling as he said they were delicious.

Lai Li liked seeing his brother eat properly, so he forgot what he wanted to say again.

Before bed, Dai Linxuan sidled close, pressing against him and murmuring that his head felt fuzzy, that he was so sleepy.

Lai Li ground his teeth, thinking his brother finally had some sleepiness. Fine, tomorrow. No rush.

The next day…

…

Dai Linxuan either didn’t get sick, or when he did, the fever dragged on for days.

On the fifth evening, it finally broke. Lai Li lost his patience and smashed something: “Did my phone get shipped to Antarctica? What about the expert? Did she fall into the sea and get eaten by sharks? It’s gotta be digested into shit by now!”

The chopsticks clattered in the opposite direction from Dai Linxuan. He walked over, picked them up, and sat back on the bed’s edge: “The yacht picking them up had some malfunction. It’s been under repair.”

Lai Li snapped, “I’m fucking sick, not stupid!”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Dai Linxuan pulled him into his arms, sighing softly. “So eager to get rid of me?”

Lai Li took a deep breath: “Dai Linxuan, speak like a human.”

Dai Linxuan gently rubbed the stubble at the back of his head: “Alright—do you really not want to be alone with me that badly?”

“Is that the issue?” Lai Li’s face pressed into his brother’s shoulder hollow, but his eyes were cold. “How long do you plan to keep me locked up?”

Dai Linxuan didn’t refute the word “locked.” He fell silent, his arms tightening with restrained force. After a long moment, he said out of nowhere: “Only fourteen days.”

“What?”

Dai Linxuan held him loosely, his gaze drifting far to the window, where the deep, boundless sea stretched nearby. Without boats passing, it was impossible to swim to the mainland shore.

Just over twenty days ago, Lai Li had said something like “You should lock me up, order me to love you”…

How quickly he forgot.

From Shanghai Island until now, only fourteen days—even less since Lai Li had been unconscious most of the time, truly awake for just five.

Forgetful little punk.

Dai Linxuan brushed a light kiss against Lai Li’s ear, like sea wind grazing past, gone in an instant. He released him and said mildly, “Your phone and Doctor Ye are on the approaching yacht… She’s a Chinese-American. She’ll definitely arrive tonight. Don’t worry.”

Dai Linxuan picked up the tray and left the bedroom. After closing the door behind him, he handed it to the caregiver outside, his voice fading: “Thanks for the trouble.”

An hour later, the doctor came to give Lai Li an IV drip, but his brother was nowhere in sight.

Even until late at night, Dai Linxuan didn’t return.

In those hours apart, Lai Li could barely hear anything else over his own pounding heartbeat. He kept thinking Dai Linxuan would avoid him again, like two years ago.

How long would it be this time?

Lai Li lost all reason, yanked out the IV needle, slipped into slippers, and staggered out the door—right into a wall of flesh.

Dai Linxuan caught him, frowning instinctively: “Is your wound healed? Running around already?”

Before he spoke, Lai Li had smelled him and grabbed his clothes, as if afraid he’d flee.

“Doctor Ye said you might not cooperate. She got that wrong.” Dai Linxuan scooped him up in a bridal carry. “You’re pretty eager.”

Lai Li followed his gaze out the window and saw the harbor below lit with night lights, a private yacht docked. Vague figures walked toward the island, chatting.

In his daze, Dai Linxuan carried him back to bed.

Dai Linxuan used a cotton swab to press the needle mark on his hand. “How about seeing the doctor in the morning? Okay?”

Lai Li was annoyed: “I was looking for you! I don’t give a damn about the doctor right now.”

“What for?” Dai Linxuan tsked lightly. “You can’t lift a finger right now. Where could I run?”

Lai Li stared at him: “If I hadn’t crashed, wouldn’t you have run?”

“No.” Dai Linxuan touched his face. “Bro made that mistake once two years ago. No second time. I promise.”

Lai Li remained unmoved, trust in Dai Linxuan shattered.

Dai Linxuan pulled a phone from his pocket and handed it over with a “Here.”

Lai Li glanced down instinctively. Facial recognition unlocked it at the sight of his face. WeChat showed 99+ unread messages.

“Everyone’s worried about you.” Dai Linxuan stood. “Let them know you’re safe.”

Lai Li grabbed his hand, frowning: “Bro, if you stay here with me forever, I wouldn’t mind being locked up till the seas run dry and rocks crumble.”

Dai Linxuan paused.

“But can you?” Lai Li said indifferently. “You just think I’m in the way and want to kick me aside.”

“…Never thought that.” Dai Linxuan sighed, sat back down, took his fingers, and kissed them. “I’m just… a bit scared.”

Scared of similar incidents happening again, of Lai Li getting hurt and falling unconscious once more.

How many times could he lose and regain him by luck?

He couldn’t cover the sky with one hand, couldn’t prevent every accident. The safest way was a secure environment, keeping Lai Li penned up.

Of course, maybe he just wanted an excuse to justify his base desires. Isolate Lai Li from the world, and he could possess him fully.

But as long as he wanted Lai Li alive, he could never do it.

After all, he was a bastard who treated life like dirt.

“Bro, they’re targeting you,” Lai Li said. “Avoiding me—you want me to watch you get hurt?”

Dai Linxuan: “I…”

Lai Li said calmly, “If something happens to you, I’ll kill every bastard involved first thing, then come find you.”

Dai Linxuan froze, then smiled after a moment: “Then I’d better work hard to stay alive.”

Lai Li was cold: “You’d better mean it.”

Dai Linxuan didn’t know what to say. He sat a bit longer, flicked Lai Li’s hand with a bent finger, then grabbed pajamas from the closet and went to shower.

Lai Li listened to the water running, then slowly unlocked the phone.

The top messages were from Jing Deyu, Huo Fei, and the others—everyone at 99+. Jing Zixiao had only a few.

He called him. It connected instantly, and a cautious voice said: “Lai Li?”

“Yeah.”

“Video call,” Jing Zixiao said. “Scared of AI scams.”

“…Idiot.”

Lai Li switched to video. Jing Zixiao relaxed only after seeing his face: “It really is you. You scared me.”

“Scared of what?”

“Twenty-two days, bro, no word.” Jing Zixiao looked miserable. “I thought your bro found out about your little schemes and was gonna kill you. Didn’t dare message, in case your phone was with him—”

Lai Li stared coldly.

“Ah, crap.” Jing Zixiao slapped himself. “Wrong words—anyway, glad you’re fine. Where are you now?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Lai Li paused. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk when I get back.”

Jing Zixiao nodded, realizing he might not be free, and grew vague: “A lot’s happened lately. You should come back soon.”

After hanging up, Lai Li scrolled through the messages, his brows furrowing deeper.

His brother had been full of shit about replying for him. Not a single one!

Jing Deyu and Huo Fei still had no clue if he was dead or alive, messaging daily in panic.

Danshi was now in daytime, and Jing Deyu had probably stayed up late the night before, so he was still sleeping. When he received the video call, he nearly passed out and poked the screen several times. “Fuck, Lai Li! Are you really alive or just a zombie?”

“Alive,” Lai Li said impatiently. “Tell them, then I’m hanging up.”

“Hey, hey, don’t!” Jing Deyu jolted upright. “Where the hell are you?”

Lai Li repeated, “Doesn’t matter.”

Jing Deyu said excitedly, “You scared the shit out of me! You’ve been out of contact for over twenty days. I asked around and only found out after your surgery that your brother sent you abroad. I thought Bao Song had ratted you out about stealing the script, and your brother locked you up in a fit of rage…”

Seeing Lai Li’s expression darken, Jing Deyu quickly shut up. After a moment, he whispered, “So, did your brother find out?”

Lai Li squeezed out three words: “Don’t know.”

He had forgotten himself.

“Wouldn’t Bao Song be stupid enough to message me?”

“He just vaguely asked when he’d give you the stuff. You never replied, and soon after, he saw the hot search about your car accident. Not knowing what to do, he came to me, and that’s how I found out.” Jing Deyu lowered his voice. “You had my guy do that shit behind my back?”

Lai Li felt no guilt. “I paid, he worked. What’s the problem?”

Jing Deyu laughed in frustration. “He signed a confidentiality agreement, bro! If caught, it’s not just massive compensation—he could go to jail!”

Lai Li reminded him, “Don’t forget, I’m also a shareholder in Wanli. What’s wrong with getting the script for my investment?”

“…Fine, fine, no problem.” Jing Deyu couldn’t argue. “I didn’t want to dwell on that… How are you now? Body okay? Brain, arms, legs all normal?”

“Better than ever,” Lai Li said. “Hanging up.”

The sound of water from the bathroom stopped just then.

These days, Lai Li and Dai Linxuan had been inseparable—chatting or strolling on the island, occasionally watching a movie together. He hadn’t had a chance to access the internet at all.

He opened the browser to search recent news. Just as he typed the keywords, Dai Linxuan emerged from the bathroom in a bathrobe and smoothly took his phone, placing it on the bedside table.

“Your body’s not fully recovered yet. Play less.” Dai Linxuan leaned down, hands on either side of him, and brushed his lips against Lai Li’s forehead. “Go to sleep early.”

The kiss tickled Lai Li a bit. His mind was on the phone and the news, but his eyes fixed on his brother’s water-dampened collarbone, glistening like pearls. His gaze darkened. “Slept too much this morning… Not sleepy.”

Dai Linxuan said, “Then let’s do something else.”

Lai Li didn’t react at first, until Dai Linxuan slipped his hand under the covers. Then he realized what this “something else” meant.

He grew breathless almost without stimulation.

Dai Linxuan was rarely this proactive, but Lai Li only sensed a scheme… though that was all.

Dai Linxuan leaned closer, his warm breath fanning Lai Li’s face. “Close your eyes.”

Lai Li hastily grabbed his brother’s other hand, interlocking their fingers and pinning it to the bed.

Dai Linxuan kissed down from Lai Li’s trembling lashes—cheek, nose tip, and the plump Cupid’s bow—

He lingered there in a kiss. “Finish this and sleep obediently, okay?”

Even death would be fine.

…

“Bro, call my name…”

Knock knock.

The knock at the door came as Lai Li’s waist arched slightly with a muffled grunt, displeasure flashing in his eyes.

Dai Linxuan grabbed a few tissues to wipe between his fingers, threw on a robe, and went to open the door. It was Doctor Ye. She spoke softly with Dai Linxuan for a few moments. Lai Li’s mind was as blank below as above; he vaguely made out that they scheduled a check-up for tomorrow morning at nine and discussed follow-up plans.

“Nine it is, then,” Doctor Ye nodded. “Remember to get your brother to sleep early. The checks include a chest X-ray.”

Dai Linxuan blocked the already narrow door crack completely, so nothing inside was visible.

Doctor Ye had no intention of prying. She said goodnight and turned to leave.

Dai Linxuan returned to the room, closed the door, took off the robe, and went to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Lai Li watched him come back, eyes sharp. “Let me help you.”

“No need to trouble the patient.” Dai Linxuan chuckled lightly, carefully cleaned him up, and tucked him in. “Don’t worry about me. It’ll go down soon.”

Lai Li blurted out, “I can use my mouth. Won’t hurt.”

“As agreed—finish and sleep.” Dai Linxuan covered his eyes. “Eyes closed. Want me to count sheep for you?”