“No way!”
Shen Leyuan yanked his hand back in a flash, his cheeks burning hot.
Little Deer looked puzzled. “Teacher?”
Teacher smells so sweet. I want to eat him, lick him. I love how Teacher looks right now.
But… is he really talking to me?
That shy expression mixed with a hint of anticipation, that awkwardness laced with trust, that slight dodge that suddenly halted…
“Teacher,” Little Deer asked warily, “is there anyone else around you?”
He absolutely couldn’t tell the truth!
Shen Leyuan jolted in shock and immediately swung the phone camera around the room. “Nope, Teacher’s just chilling in his own room. Wanna see, Little Deer?”
Keeping his voice steady, he gave Little Deer a tour of the room.
The kid’s attention shifted right away. He excitedly asked about this and that, squealing over the fridge magnets—”So cute! Did Teacher draw these himself?”
Shen Leyuan: “Nah, they came with the place—secondhand.”
Little Deer’s interest vanished instantly, but he quickly latched onto the fresh word. “Secondhand?”
What did that mean?
Shen Leyuan: “Y’know, stuff that’s been used and sold again.”
Whoa, I want it!
Little Deer’s eyes lit up in an instant.
Shen Leyuan thought for a second and added, “Though not always—some are brand new, unused…”
“I want the used ones!” Little Deer blurted out eagerly. “When’s Teacher selling his seconds? I want that shirt you just wore!”
Little Deer’s stalker vibes always seeped into the tiniest everyday details.
Sigh…
Shen Leyuan reminded him gently, “After a confession gets flat-out rejected, buying or stealing someone’s clothes to collect them—or do whatever—is super rude. It can make people feel grossed out.”
Little Deer’s delighted, expectant expression froze, turning uneasy.
“But Little Deer telling me straight up and asking for my okay, instead of sneaking around doing bad stuff behind my back—that’s great.” Shen Leyuan encouraged him. “Keep it up, Little Deer. I believe you’ll get better every day. Go for it!”
Little Deer relaxed, grinning goofily along and pumping himself up. “Go for it～”
Huo Tingfeng watched coldly.
No meat on those scrawny ribs, arms thin as twigs, shamelessly playing cute with that pretty-boy face—his voice was so effeminate it practically had wavy lines trailing off, all “Go for it～～～”
Totally nuts!
Oh right, he was nuts. Some contagious mental disorder.
In his eyes, anyway, Shen Leyuan’s chats with Director Hao boiled down to Little Deer being a virus carrier—quarantine and control required.
Easy fix, really. Just off the kid and call it a day?
Nah, whatever. Huo Tingfeng tamped down the faint killing intent bubbling up inside.
The Huo Family treasured their citizenship. No matter how wild they got abroad, they kept it clean back home—no crimes, no violations.
“Order’s in,” Shen Leyuan said. “Should arrive in two or three days. Wanna unbox it together with Teacher then?”
He’d gotten Little Deer a reward: a small size of the same T-shirt.
“Yay～” The teen beamed obediently. “Then Little Deer’ll keep training my abs. Once they’re good, I’ll ask if Teacher likes ’em～”
Shen Leyuan waffled between stopping him and cheering him on.
Please, kid, leave yourself some flaws. With your charm maxed out, now you wanna add combat power? Teacher’s gonna have trouble sleeping at night.
In the end, he said, “I hope you become the version of yourself you’re happy with.”
After hanging up, Shen Leyuan kept analyzing Little Deer’s situation with Director Hao, firing off replies to his bodyguard buddy now and then, checking in with the other bodyguards about Dog Farm and Lin Yuan’s updates. He was so swamped he didn’t even have time to pet the pup.
Little Deer’s influence this time was limited in scope and depth.
No need to worry too much for now.
Huo Tingfeng circled him a few times, never seeing him bring up abs with him. Finally, he leaned in to see what had his attention: a hefty Tibetan Mastiff grunting and snorting in a video.
Distant memories surfaced. He typed: [What’s so special about the Tibetan Mastiff?]
Why’d you yell my name at a Tibetan Mastiff?
How to put it…
Some things had to stay buried deep.
But when the other side was a ghost—and a friend-ghost who’d saved you—that “he’s already dead anyway” vibe sparked a weird urge to spill.
Shen Leyuan sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning in mysteriously. “Actually, I’m a scientist from the future!”
Huo Tingfeng typed: ……….
Shen Leyuan cracked up, doubling over with laughter before sitting up straight, getting serious this time. “Okay, fine, not really. But I do know some stuff that might happen in the future. Like—”
He pointed at the young Tibetan Mastiff in the video. “Mr. Huo might turn into this dog.”
Mr. Ghost didn’t react—no denial, no surprise.
Shen Leyuan paused, then explained, “Turning into a dog means…”
Huo Tingfeng: [I know.]
So Mr. Ghost probably didn’t buy it. Shen Leyuan felt awkward.
Huo Tingfeng: [You seem really wary of him. Because after he turns into a dog, he’ll bite you?]
“Ah, no, the one who bit me wasn’t this guy.” Shen Leyuan reflexively shot back. “What he’s gonna do is way worse than biting me.”
Huo Tingfeng: [Bite Little Deer?]
Tricky to say. Shen Leyuan mumbled vaguely, “Anyway, it’s pretty over-the-top, so I always stick close to Little Deer at the hospital… Oh, right—what’s the Mr. Huo you saw like? Does he go near Little Deer on purpose?”
Huo Tingfeng immediately cleared things up: [I wanna stay eight hundred meters from Little Deer.]
Then he circled back. [What’ll the Tibetan Mastiff do to Little Deer?]
Huo Tingfeng: [Can’t even tell me?]
Huo Tingfeng: [Pathetic.jpg]
The usually serious-and-gentle guy suddenly dropped a cute emoticon. Shen Leyuan melted a bit, cleared his throat, and weighed his words. “It’s not that I can’t say… Mr. Huo will…”
Dropping his voice to a whisper, Shen Leyuan hid the “book” and “reality” bits, half-covering the dog-and-heartthrob saga. He ended with a reminder: “Don’t tell Mr. Huo yet, okay?”
Thanks, Mr. Huo was already dead inside.
Huo Tingfeng was thunderstruck—charred outside, charred within—not sure if finding a hole to crawl into or grabbing a knife to end it was the better deal.
Mr. Ghost went silent post-story. Shen Leyuan couldn’t tell if he didn’t believe it or was just embarrassed.
After waiting a bit with no reply, Shen Leyuan called out, “Mr. Chu, you listening?”
Huo Tingfeng typed slowly: [He doesn’t seem to like Little Deer. I can help you reach out to him. Maybe there’s a misunderstanding between you two.]
Shen Leyuan shook his head. “He might say he doesn’t like him now, but in the future, emotions get blocked.”
If Huo Tingfeng turned dog on purpose, he’d be impossible to spot.
Huo Tingfeng could see his hesitation and doubts—what he was really worried about.
But I am Huo Tingfeng…
I wouldn’t do that. You can trust me.
His hand hovered, then typed the cover-up: [Okay, my lips are sealed.]
He backed off.
He feared the truth would bring not trust, but blame and disgust—Shen Leyuan hating him from then on, no more cozy chats like this.
His tan palm gripped those pale fingers, colors starkly divided.
Their relationship should be that divided, too.
Suddenly, Huo Tingfeng didn’t want to talk “Huo Tingfeng” anymore.
He paused, then typed hesitantly: [Really don’t wanna feel my abs?]
[Mine are better than Lin Yao’s.]
[Pecs too.]
Wait… how’d the topic loop back here?
Shen Leyuan’s cheeks heated up again. He stammered, “N-no… I mean, not that I don’t wanna…”
[Then feel ’em?]
After sending that, Huo Tingfeng grabbed his hand and guided it to his waist.
The muscles were rock-hard, skin cool to the touch.
Shen Leyuan quietly pulled back and cranked the AC higher, mumbling, “Can I touch somewhere else?”
Huo Tingfeng was still sulking over the rejection when that hit him. He nodded fast.
Shen Leyuan: “Not okay?”
“Yes!” Huo Tingfeng blurted, then froze, awkwardly grabbing his hand to type one word: [Yes]
Mr. Ghost was still kinda aloof. Shen Leyuan felt bad.
He pressed: “Anywhere’s fine?”
The question felt off. Huo Tingfeng’s body heated up with nerves: [Anywhere.]
Shen Leyuan grinned. “Then don’t move, Mr. Chu. I’ll be gentle—no funny business.”
Huo Tingfeng was all generosity, a thrill buzzing: Go wild, touch wherever!
He watched the young man close his eyes, hand sliding up his arm to his shoulder, leaning in closer, heading upward.
Wait—where was this going?
He panicked a little.
Those hands finally cupped his face, fingertips tracing his features.
After a moment, Shen Leyuan lowered his hands, lips pursed in an embarrassed smile. “Blind characters on TV can sculpt faces from touch alone. Guess I can’t—I can’t picture it at all.”
Huo Tingfeng should’ve been relieved, but his chest tightened.
He doesn’t know me.
Once back in his body, they’d be strangers. No smiles, no fond “Mr. Ghost,” no hand-typing, no face-cupping sketches.
“You…” His throat went dry. “Hate Huo Tingfeng?”
Of course, the guy couldn’t hear.
Shen Leyuan fretted instead, “Sorry, Mr. Chu, my curiosity’s getting the best of me. If you don’t like it…”
[No prob.]
His hands flew, typing reassurance: [Do whatever. I don’t mind.]
Shen Leyuan’s gaze flickered guiltily.
“What if…” He tested carefully. “What if I said I kinda guessed your identity, Mr. Chu? Would you get mad?”
Huo Tingfeng: !!!
Mad? He was thrilled to death.
Shen Leyuan knew who he was—and wasn’t mad. He’d even touched his waist, his face. That meant he liked him, right?
Typing faster than ever: [Not mad.]
Huo Tingfeng: [You really guessed?]
“Kinda, probably, maybe—nine outta ten…” Shen Leyuan probed. “One-ninety-five, right?”
A tad taller, but eyeballing had margins for error.
Huo Tingfeng nodded: [Yep.]
“Super fighter. Top of the class in military academy every time, yeah?”
He even knows that? From when? Did Xiao Qi blab?
Huo Tingfeng typed: [Yep.]
“Single, but got a few godbrothers and god-little-bros, right?”
[Yep.]
Shen Leyuan smiled around pursed lips, a smug little gleam.
Huo Tingfeng stared, heart pounding. [So, I’m—]
Shen Leyuan didn’t speak this time. With his gripped hand, he typed: [The hero who braved the fire to save lives, Mr. Chu Weiran.]
Huo Tingfeng: …
Who the hell?
What the actual—?!
