Just five short words made Lin Yao’s face darken.
What did “Don’t curse your mom” mean? Who was the old guy talking about?
He typed out a string of sharp, sarcastic barbs, then deleted them. Finally, he’d grown a brain and some sense.
Like a cat with its claws pulled out, Lin Yao only managed five words.
Single dog, shut your mouth!
No one in the group chat paid him any mind.
At this hour, the teacher was probably taking a midday nap. Lin Yao sent a text saying the patient’s meal that day had been delicious, and his wound had already scabbed over. He’d be able to check out and return to school in a few days.
Normally, the teacher replied within ten minutes.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty minutes passed. The young man’s heart clenched. Remembering the last kidnapping incident, he hurriedly called the teacher.
Shen Leyuan fumbled to pick up. “Hello?”
Lin Yao let out a breath of relief, a hint of grievance in his voice. “Teacher, were you busy just now?”
“Yeah, a bit… Hey, wait—that’s the induction cooker!”
The last few words rose in pitch, but they were distant from the phone, as if he were arguing with someone. Lin Yao waited tensely for a bit, only to hear a rushed, “We’ll chat this afternoon. Gotta hang up first.”
He had no choice; his two-bedroom apartment was about to explode.
In the kitchen, oil splattered everywhere, the floor was a sopping mess of water, and the poached eggs lay mingled with the pot on the ground. Dark soy sauce spread across the countertop.
Two men—one fair-skinned, the other with wheat-toned skin—stood before Shen Leyuan. One wore a helpless smile on his lips, while the other hung his head, not daring to make a sound, looking utterly guilty.
“Explain,” Shen Leyuan said sternly. “What happened?”
“I…”
Huo Tingfeng tried to speak up.
Shen Leyuan cut him off. “Doctor Di, you explain.”
Di Junya said gently, “I wanted to make something for us to eat together. Mr. Huo must have thought the house was on fire and rushed in to put it out.”
The words us and home carried a subtle emphasis. Shen Leyuan didn’t catch it, but Huo Tingfeng found it grating. He lifted his eyes and glared at Di Junya. “You—!!!”
Shen Leyuan: “Mr. Huo.”
He sighed. “I’ve told you, I don’t need your round-the-clock protection.”
“But just now…” Under Shen Leyuan’s weary gaze, Huo Tingfeng’s voice trailed off. “The pot really was on fire.”
Di Junya interjected apologetically, “I’m not very good at cooking.”
He said it with such faux innocence that anyone hearing it would think his intentions were good. But Shen Leyuan shot him a glance and frowned accusingly. “If you’re not good at it, then don’t do it, okay?”
Di Junya: …
Huo Tingfeng’s lips twitched upward uncontrollably. Serves you right!
Before he could savor it, Shen Leyuan turned back to him with a blank expression. “Out.”
Di Junya hadn’t won outright, but driving Huo Tingfeng away counted as a victory.
He nearly laughed out loud.
A week ago, Shen Leyuan had proactively applied for him to move in as a supervisor. He’d swiftly packed up that very day for close-quarters observation. Once Huo Tingfeng was gone too, he’d have even more opportunities.
Seeing his good mood, Shen Leyuan swept a cool gaze over him. “Clean up the kitchen.”
With that, he turned and left, not even sparing a smile.
Di Junya’s good mood was instantly shrouded in gloom. He was about to pull out his phone to call a cleaning service when Shen Leyuan called back over his shoulder without looking, as if he’d read his mind: “Handle your own messes. You caused the trouble; you clean it up.”
Di Junya stiffened, then resigned himself to tidying up.
As he disgustedly mopped the floor, he mused darkly: Shen Leyuan’s personality around me is completely different from what I’ve seen before and what I know of him. The self-talk, the chats with me on his phone—he must have—
Shen Leyuan slammed the bedroom door shut and rubbed his face.
Ugh… That should have been annoying enough, right?
If Di Junya could still like him and shower him with affection after that attitude, it would prove their feelings were indeed problematic—abnormal.
Over the next month, he’d work hard to grind up Di Junya’s “dislike” meter.
—Shen Leyuan definitely has a split personality!
Di Junya was convinced.
Like Huo Tingfeng, he’d been adopted young.
His foster parents had been wealthy merchants who died when he was thirteen. After that, though he’d bounced around a few homes in tough years, it was just a shift from attentive nannies to one neglectful one.
In short, he wasn’t great at housework.
Late into the night, Shen Leyuan resignedly mopped the floor again, wiped down the table, and scrubbed the pot clean of its lingering oil stains.
Di Junya’s room door cracked open a sliver, his gaze burning as he watched.
Is this the gentle personality now?
Split personalities weren’t all that rare; Di Junya had encountered them before, nothing special. But on Shen Leyuan, it sparked an intense urge to probe.
It had nothing to do with love—just the frustration of repeated defeats driving him to turn the tables.
The next day, the two headed out together.
Shen Leyuan didn’t want people knowing they lived together. With a cold face, he instructed Di Junya to head to the school later, then smiled warmly at the person on his phone.
“Mm-hmm, sure. I’ll make you preserved egg and lean pork congee for lunch.”
Di Junya wasn’t angry.
In college, he’d raised a few rabbits in the lab. He fed them the best feed, dosed them meticulously with drugs, then sent them to the dissection table at semester’s end, slicing them open one cut at a time.
When he pressed the scalpel in, the rabbit didn’t even struggle, thinking it was just another injection—pain followed by a treat.
Di Junya savored that trust, and the process of cultivating it.
Shen Leyuan was soothing Lin Yao.
The young man had grown clingier lately, but not excessively so. Overall, he was still well-behaved, so Shen Leyuan afforded him extra patience.
Ten minutes later, he hung up. After a few steps, something felt off. He glanced back, frowning as his tone chilled. “Why are you still here?”
Di Junya: …
He. Was. Not. Angry.
The more complex and arduous the process, the sweeter the fruit.
Compared to Little Deer’s shallow emotions, transparent at a glance, the enigmas on this one were far more abundant—far more worth exploring!
He expressed mild regret politely, watched Shen Leyuan leave, then half-lidded his eyes to calm his surging emotions.
When he opened them, he met the shocked gaze of a student—the same basketball team member who’d confessed to him before. The student raised his voice. “Doctor Di, you two…”
Shen Leyuan was already out of sight.
Di Junya’s lips curved slightly, revealing a shy, hesitant expression. “Yes, we… Could you keep it secret for us?”
Meanwhile, Lin Yuan received a call from Huo Tingfeng.
It was as if all the malice Lin Yao hadn’t voiced had transferred to him, dumping it all out at once. Huo Tingfeng’s jabs were vicious.
After just two or three sentences, Lin Yuan’s temples throbbed. He hung up expressionlessly.
Call after call, hang after hang. Finally, Huo Tingfeng switched to texts.
Shen Leyuan is shacking up with that Di doctor. The guy’s off. Have your useless bodyguards watch him so no one takes advantage.
Also, I’m staying away lately. I’ll send a few bros to guard him. Your bodyguards are blind—fair warning: don’t be worthless against kidnappers but gun for my brother!
Lin Yuan saw nothing but the first line.
—Shen Leyuan is shacking up with that Di guy.
He stared at it hard, then called in the on-duty bodyguard.
He tossed the phone on the table. “Explain.”
The bodyguard inwardly groaned, memorizing the snitch’s number while putting on a stern face. “The madame said it’s a colleague staying a month for work stuff. He didn’t want you knowing it’d upset your recovery, so we kept it from you.”
Key point: didn’t want you knowing it’d upset your recovery, affect healing.
Lin Yuan knew the bodyguard was spinning it, but “madame” hit too close after so long, leaving him dazed.
After a beat, he said, “Not now.”
The bodyguard was still puzzling that out when Lin Yuan continued gravely, “Don’t call him that to his face.”
Bodyguard: …
So privately it’s fine?
The little interlude cooled Lin Yuan down, reminding him he had no right to feel aggrieved or interrogate his former lover.
After some thought, his gaze fell on the phone.
Raise a son for a thousand days, use him for one…
Still, if his wife said it was business, he could endure for now.
Lin Yuan asked gravely, “How long until the month’s up?”
Bodyguard: “23 days.”
Huo Tingfeng’s accusatory texts kept coming. Lin Yuan dismissed the bodyguard, pondered his phone, then replied: Your bros are deeply influenced by Little Deer.
The barrage paused. Huo Tingfeng couldn’t argue.
Disgraceful idiots!
Huo Xiaoqi was marginally better—at least he had a brain as the ringleader. The other brothers and lackeys were the real trash, still seeing Little Deer as a pure little white bunny.
No, this crew was unreliable as bodyguards.
Guess I’ll have to do it myself.
He’d just resolved when a new message popped up: Don’t track him without permission. He hates privacy invasions.
Huo Tingfeng sneered: You peeping tom got any shame lecturing me?
Lin Yuan: Want to live with him?
Staring at the reply, Huo Tingfeng wondered if he could read.
Has Lin Yuan lost it?
Lin Yuan calmly and methodically arranged his rival’s fate: Apply to Hao Mingrui. Say you’re worried about Shen Leyuan’s safety; get him to assign you a job.
Di Junya’s curiosity runs deep, has a habit of dissecting live things, mentally fragile, easily swayed by Little Deer—but ignore that for now. Just focus on caring for Shen Leyuan.
One tip: Be an obedient mute.
Huo Tingfeng: ???
Typing that had exhausted Lin Yuan’s self-control. He set the phone down, ignoring further replies, and closed his eyes to rest. But the image surfaced of his past-life lover on the dissection table.
Back then, rivals clashed fiercely, ignoring the latecomer youth Di Junya.
In power, ability, or place in Shen Leyuan’s heart, he couldn’t compare. Even his “affection” was shallow curiosity.
Yet this man had lured Shen Leyuan away.
When his love was hurt, Little Deer flew into a rage and attacked Di Junya.
That day, amid pools of blood, Lin Yuan realized they couldn’t kill each other—but Little Deer could kill them all.
Just like now: fellow “monsters,” yet Lin Yao was bouncing around after less than half a month, while his own recovery lagged, even spiking a persistent fever midway.
Little Deer’s influence—he wanted Lin Yuan dead.
Maybe “Lin Yuan” really is dead…
Lin Yuan touched the faintly aching wound on his chest, eyes narrowing darkly. “Lin Yuan” had better stay dead.
Can’t even hold onto a wife delivered to the door? Might as well leave the body to him!
