Shen Leyuan sent the message and then immediately withdrew it. He couldn’t fall back asleep at all.
He had just been jolted awake by a nightmare.
In the dream, the big boss sat in his wheelchair, eyes lowered as he gazed at something with utter disgust, as if he wished that thing would vanish from his sight.
Then, he slapped down hard.
Once, twice, three times…
The big guy pitifully slumped over, foaming at the mouth from its little opening, gradually covered in wounds and swelling up into the shape Shen Leyuan had once seen on another one—heartbreakingly so.
But its owner showed no pity at all. He even seemed to hate it.
Shen Leyuan squeezed his eyes shut tight, but the image of the big boss raising a knife lingered inescapably. So he wavered between concern for the big boss and keeping his distance.
A new message from the big boss arrived right on cue: [You can distance yourself from me]
Lin Yuan: [Sorry for putting you in a tough spot]
Shen Leyuan zoned out for a moment.
It felt like the big boss hadn’t argued with him in ages.
Not just no arguments—he realized belatedly that Lin Yuan had actually vanished from his life for a while now. Starting from that peacock display, over a month had passed, and in between, the other man had only occasionally reached out for business matters.
That wasn’t quite right, either.
If he wasn’t mistaken, that had been the previous life’s Lin Yuan.
That Lin Yuan had married someone named Shen Leyuan, pitifully waiting for his love for so long, only to get a world reset and his love moving on to someone else.
Will he monitor my daily life? Shen Leyuan wondered.
The answer was obvious. Both Lin Yuans would do it, because they both cared about his safety.
What must it feel like for him to listen to me helping Huo Tingfeng?
A subtle pang of heartache stirred in Shen Leyuan’s chest. Suddenly, he remembered how, after that last incident, he’d given Lin Yuan permission to monitor him—a promise that now struck him as both ambiguous and cruel.
With Huo Tingfeng injured like that, he was sure to seize the chance to act spoiled and pitiful.
And Lin Yuan would be listening from the other side.
He definitely would.
Shen Leyuan didn’t want Lin Yuan to suffer, but it seemed he’d already cut him several times over—and there would be more in the future. What difference did it make from death by a thousand cuts?
He subconsciously wanted to revoke the permission, but his fingers stuck fast, as if glued in place.
That would be a hurt too.
He thought it over for a long time before finally saying: [I won’t distance myself from you]
He added: [I should be the one apologizing for disturbing you at this hour…]
The big boss replied: [It’s fine]
Shen Leyuan stared at those lines of chat, slowly scrolling back to when they’d first added each other as friends. Between the lines, he spotted his own initial unease, and how he’d gradually been spoiled rotten by the big boss—thinking he was nothing like the one in the story, so approachable.
The big boss was approachable with him. That special indulgence had been there from the start.
There had been arguments in between, and tests, but even during their cold wars, things had seemed far more intimate than now.
When he reached the latest message, Shen Leyuan’s smile faded.
After a long pause, he typed haltingly, editing and deleting repeatedly before finally chatting about personal matters with the big boss: [I’m disturbing you at this hour because I just had a nightmare]
Lin Yuan comforted him: [Dreams are the opposite of reality]
The next message added: [Your bodyguard is next door. No need to worry]
Shen Leyuan typed slowly this time, deleting and rewriting even more, his ears growing redder with each revision.
He said: [My nightmare was you abusing your little brother—abusing him really badly]
He added: [Like beating it black and blue, practically separating it from the body]
Lin Yuan’s body ignited from those two short lines, burning hot and painful.
He gripped his phone, steadying his breathing, but his fingers seemed to act on their own, aggrievedly typing: [You’re the one abusing it]
He deleted it without sending, rephrasing: [It hurts a bit]
Delete. Rephrase: [Feels awful]
In the end, he only sent one word: [Mm]
The reply was too curt; Shen Leyuan couldn’t tell what he meant. Was it that he wouldn’t abuse his little brother, or that he had and was dodging the point?
He pondered before asking: [So, is it okay now?]
Lin Yuan glanced at it: [Very lively]
Shen Leyuan’s cheeks were already flushed; now they burned completely. He covered his face and kept asking: [After leaving the coffee shop, did you take care of it yourself?]
Lin Yuan didn’t want to answer that.
From the silence, Shen Leyuan read between the lines: [You’ve been holding back the whole time?]
The question mark carried an accusation. Even through the screen, Lin Yuan felt the disapproval, and grievance welled up uncontrollably. It didn’t have to be this way, he thought.
Though it was so sensitive that even walking rubbed it raw, he didn’t walk much.
Silence stretched from the other side again. Shen Leyuan knew full well he was stonewalling and said helplessly: [Doing this is really bad for your health. I want you to be healthy]
Lin Yuan: [I’m fine]
Shen Leyuan tried to guess his mindset and persuaded: [That kind of desire isn’t dirty at all. Try it—coax him a little, okay?]
It was as if some voice pierced through time and space—
“Sir, that kind of desire isn’t dirty at all. It’s beautiful. Will you touch it, please?”
His vision blurred, a drop of liquid falling onto his phone.
Lin Yuan touched it. Tears.
He couldn’t pinpoint where this sadness and relief came from.
A new message refreshed: the young man asked: [I have those desires too. Would Mr. Lin find them dirty?]
Lin Yuan replied: [No]
The young man asked again: [So yours aren’t dirty either. Don’t make it hard on yourself, okay?]
Lin Yuan didn’t reply, only answering inwardly: No.
Being ruled by desire felt disgusting. He must look hideous, repulsive like that.
Enduring was simpler than releasing.
Perhaps he was too stubborn; the young man seemed at a loss too. The next ten minutes passed in silence, and Lin Yuan faintly regretted it.
If it would put this man at ease, he wouldn’t mind enduring the disgust to try.
He raised a hand to type, yielding once more.
That’s when the young man’s message came: a simple line: [How about we swap?]
Swap what?
Lin Yuan immediately thought of something erotic, and self-loathing doubled.
I’m so disgusting, he thought.
But the young man meant exactly that, answering with sweet details. He saw himself send a “Good,” followed by urgent, endless waiting.
He’d never known he could be interested in such things.
But it didn’t surprise him.
The only surprise was that the other man would go this far for him. While scorning his eager anticipation, he stared at his phone, hoping he’d keep his word.
Ten minutes later, he opened a brand-new video.
The hand was slender, pale.
The breathing shaky, thick, scorching.
Gripping, cupping, fingertips circling lightly—even the air grew aroused, gradually slick.
The young man’s voice turned hoarse, teaching him how to coax himself.
When it ended, the camera shook to his thigh, a flash of pale flush before the screen went black. The young man panted for a bit, then rasped: “That’s more or less it, sir. Your turn.”
A long while later, Lin Yuan replayed the video and reached down with difficulty—
His first time.
Teacher Shen sent a video.
Teacher Shen received a video.
Teacher Shen burrowed under the covers and secretly opened the video.
Clean, erect, heart-pounding.
Not very skilled, not very willing, but the imagined scratches didn’t appear—the man obediently used the method he’d taught to coax himself.
So obedient…
He let out a breath, drifting off to sleep. In his dream, he hooked his arm around a certain obedient man’s neck, smiling as he cooed: “You’re the best boy, right? You’ll take good care of them, won’t you?”
“‘When I get back, I’ll reward you~'”
The man said: “Good.”
The man said: “Wife, come home soon. I’ll wait for you here.”
Then he murmured to thin air, confirming if he could still return. Seeming to get affirmation, he nodded: “Then let’s go.”
Immense sorrow surged up, and Shen Leyuan wept.
But when he woke, touching the wetness at his eye corner, he thought he’d just yawned.
His phone blinked; new messages drew him in—some from Lin Yao, some from Huo Tingfeng.
None from Lin Yuan.
In the big boss’s chat, the last message was still that video.
He quickly backed out, and after a moment, long-pressed to delete it—but at the last second, he inexplicably moved his hand, hiding it deep in his album with a password.
Touching his burning ears, Shen Leyuan thought: Keeping records is necessary for treating psychological issues… right?
Clumsily, he got up and headed out to the hospital.
On the way, Lin Yao messaged again, saying he wanted to take care of Uncle Huo, but Uncle Huo claimed he was eating heartily and full of vigor, no need for care—so let’s head back to school together later.
The previous message asked when he’d be back.
The one before that asked where he was.
Like a kid anxiously waiting for Mom, panicking without her in sight.
Huo Tingfeng leaned over while the young one typed, peeking, and exploded: “Who’re you calling uncle?!”
Was he that old?
Lin Yao fake-smiled: “You’re the same generation as my dad. This is respect.”
Huo Tingfeng, who’d grown up playing with the little brothers, itched to smack the back of his head. But he paused, then grinned: “Right, right—same generation as your dad, and your teacher.”
Lin Yao’s face soured instantly. Ugly words reached his lips but he swallowed them, saying in a sarcastic tone: “Yeah, you love being an uncle. Who loves it more than you?”
“Back then, didn’t someone say—Uncle likes young~ cute~ adorable~ ones~?”
Huo Tingfeng’s vision blackened.
He’d even forgotten he’d said that, but the memory resurfaced with the voice, embarrassment choking his breath.
If heaven gave him a do-over, he’d cut it off himself.
Anywhere would do.
Back then, fishing for Little Deer, Huo Tingfeng had used “your teacher’s gonna room with me” as bait—flirty lines sparse, but Lin Yao milked the few there were, his tone full of dramatic rises and falls.
“What does Little Deer like? Uncle will bu~y~ it~ for~ you~.”
“Your dad’s my friend. Someday I’ll vi~sit~ your~ ho~me~.”
“Your teacher’s too young~. Better to date someone older for love. They’ll kn~ow~ ho~w~ to~ cher~ish~ you~.”
Fuck, was I that gross?
The angrier Huo Tingfeng got listening, the harder he glared at Lin Yao—but he didn’t shut him up.
For one, he saw Lin Yao was deliberately provoking him, not wanting to give him leverage. For two, face was something you got used to losing—he didn’t even want his dick anymore; what did this matter?
He was even a bit grateful: At least his heart’s desire hadn’t seen it.
He probably hadn’t… right?
Shen Leyuan had dragged Little Deer to the hospital to apologize back then. If he’d seen that video, his attitude wouldn’t have been like that.
Thinking of the video, the apology, brought the hospital lift to mind.
Then he went numb all over.
No reminiscing, no daring to. This level of cringe needed a lifetime to desensitize—even his deathbed montage would spotlight it brightest.
Lin Yao droned on a bit, then shut up, bored.
Huo Tingfeng busied himself—like bickering with Lin Yao—so he sneered: “Done already?”
Lin Yao glanced at his flushed ears and sneered back: “Scared you’ll enjoy it too much.”
His eyes screamed three words—pervy freak!
As if bearing life’s unbearable weight, Huo Tingfeng deflated completely.
After the mockery, Lin Yao sullenly dragged a stool to the bedside, waiting for Teacher while thinking: Fuck, I’m a freak too.
One night of milky dreams was bad enough—how was there daddy-son sandwich on top?
