Chapter 11: Caught

Light filtering through the gap in the cabinet door cast beams that revealed motes of dust swirling in the air. Lin Jianxi began to wonder just how long he had been stuck in this state, for the room to accumulate so much dust.

Song Cheng’an must have already discovered him.

Lin Jianxi silently relaxed his body, waiting to be hauled out.

What would Song Cheng’an do to him? Would it really be like the System described…? Lin Jianxi couldn’t imagine it. No matter how he tried, that scene refused to take shape in his mind, as if it had no place in his memories at all.

“Heh…”

From beyond the door, Song Cheng’an let out a chuckle and squatted down. “Like a cat… where’d you hide?”

He was speaking to the cabinet door.

He clearly knew Lin Jianxi was there, yet Song Cheng’an still said, “Do you all know where he is?”

“…”

No one answered.

Lin Jianxi peered through the narrow gap in the cabinet door. If he leaned forward just a little more, their eyes would meet—but the other man seemed to be toying with him on purpose. “Forget it. You’re really good at hiding. If you’re scared, we won’t meet. We’ll talk again in a few days.”

“…”

Song Cheng’an rapped lightly on the cabinet door. “Lin Jianxi, take care of yourself. Remember to take your medicine on time.”

The shadow in the gap vanished. Moments later, Lin Jianxi heard the door close—Song Cheng’an had left.

Lin Jianxi slowly exhaled, shifting to the middle of the cabinet before reaching out to push the door. Halfway through, a coughing fit seized him. With no strength left in his body, he tumbled out entirely, collapsing to his knees on the floor in a fit of wrenching coughs.

His cheeks flushed red, his eyelashes damp with tears—he looked utterly pitiable. Someone took pity on him, crouching down to help him up and offering him water. “Why put yourself through this?”

“How else can I avoid it?” Lin Jianxi met the man’s eyes.

“…”

Without Song Cheng’an, he’d stay in this wretched state. With him… he’d have to share a bed. Better this way for now. The System told him to enjoy it, but Lin Jianxi just couldn’t…

Song Cheng’an…

Lin Jianxi sighed.

He had never been normal to begin with. There was no point reasoning with him using ordinary logic.

Take his feelings, for instance. By now, Lin Jianxi half-believed Song Cheng’an truly liked him—his actions deviated sharply from the original story.

In the book, Song Cheng’an hadn’t given the original host a single chance.

Yet now he had offered three. But what good did it do?

The man knew nothing of normal emotional give-and-take, resorting only to blunt, forceful tactics.

Lin Jianxi closed his eyes. “Help me to bed. I’m tired. I need some sleep.”

~~~

Most of the people in the room were young, about Song Cheng’an’s age. A few eyed him with open admiration, citing his reputation. He had once handled tasks flawlessly for Gu Heng—everyone knew Gu Heng had a shrewd, capable spouse. Later, he became Shen Ze’s right-hand man, carrying out orders with crisp efficiency.

Lin Jianxi propped himself up slightly. “So why are you all here?”

They averted their gazes, evasive. Lin Jianxi knew it stemmed from those sordid thoughts lurking in their hearts. But why these people? Why not some older ones, or outright perverts with twisted minds?

“Actually…”

Lin Jianxi listened quietly as the man explained.

“Actually, you have to interview to get in here.”

Lin Jianxi: “…”

“We don’t even know the criteria.”

“Yeah, yeah. I tripped coming in the door. Spent the whole time staring at Mr. Song, didn’t say a word—and I passed.”

“Me too…”

Lin Jianxi nearly laughed. It wasn’t amusement, exactly—his own plight was dismal enough—but he felt a helpless astonishment.

This little pervert.

Truly… a pervert through and through.

Still, Song Cheng’an had grown up in a basement amid corpses and lunatics. In a way, turning out like this was right on script.

No wonder they never laid a hand on him whenever his face soured.

He’d assembled a pack of innocent kids.

Lin Jianxi’s back ached from lying in bed. Hungry, he got up to cook. His weakened strength meant he no longer gouged the cutting board; cooking finally felt like cooking, not murder. Lin Jianxi was pleased—he even chuckled to himself. Was this making a blessing out of misfortune?

In the kitchen, while waiting for the water to boil, he craved a smoke. He’d just clamped the cigarette between his lips when someone leaned in to cup the flame and light it. Lin Jianxi glanced up; the man grumbled, “One puff only.”

“Oh.”

Lin Jianxi took two drags, then blew the smoke into the man’s palm before stepping to the stove and tossing vegetables into the pot.

The man cradled the cigarette in both hands, his face cycling from flushed to ashen. At last, he chucked it in the trash, lunged forward, and seized Lin Jianxi’s wrist. “I said one puff.”

“So?”

The man glared for a long moment, then reached for the buttons of his shirt. Lin Jianxi paled and slumped his head onto the other’s shoulder.

His captured wrist went limp, dangling pale and fragile as paper, as if he might pass out any second.

“N-No… you okay?” The man hastily rebuttoned him. “Feeling bad? Lungs hurt? Dizzy?”

“Dizzy. Hurts.”

“I’ll take you to rest.”

“But the vegetables…”

“I can cook. I’ll handle it. You rest.”

Lin Jianxi stifled a grin, holding onto his frail act. “Mm. Let me rest a bit.”

Lin Jianxi sank onto the sofa, head propped on curved fingers, eyes heavy-lidded as he stared ahead. The young man beside him was mixed-race, blue eyes locked on him intently.

“Just graduated?” Lin Jianxi asked abruptly.

The young man blinked. “Yeah.”

“Song Cheng’an just graduated too,” Lin Jianxi said slowly.

“You… why not run?” The young man seemed spellbound. “You could flee abroad.”

Lin Jianxi arched a brow, his gaze pointed and knowing. “You’ll take me?”

The young man’s cheeks blazed red.

Lin Jianxi chuckled softly and looked away. “He was just like you as a kid.”

Timid. Wouldn’t meet his eyes after some misdeed.

Every time he moved to kill him per plan, he’d pull back at the last second.

Love and hate entwined, emotions clamping his heart like a vise.

Lin Jianxi slowly closed his eyes.

Does it hurt?

The room fell silent; the kitchen burner clicked off. Lin Jianxi heard only the faint fidgeting from the young man at his side.

He wanted to touch, but held back.

Lin Jianxi murmured softly, “If you’re tired, lean on me and nap.”

A head settled lightly on his shoulder at once—relaxing with exquisite care.

Seeing no reaction from him, the other young man hugged him even tighter.

A warm embrace, filled with scorching emotion.

Lin Jianxi lightened his breathing, but he couldn’t help recalling the Song Cheng’an from before.

“…Don’t think about him.”

“Hm?”

“…Don’t think about him,” the young man repeated. “The one holding you right now is me.”

How did he guess that? Was he one of Song Cheng’an’s high school classmates? He even knew that Song Cheng’an liked holding him like this.

Sometimes Lin Jianxi really couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the preferences in this world. All the love and desire seemed concentrated on his side, as if he’d been blessed with a Protagonist Halo.

The young man relaxed his body, his breath on Lin Jianxi’s neck growing steady in a half-asleep state. His long lashes brushed lightly against Lin Jianxi’s skin, sending waves of itchiness.

“If you’re sleepy, just sleep,” Lin Jianxi said, tilting his head slightly to look at the top of the young man’s head. “It’s quiet here anyway.”

“I want to hold you while I sleep.”

Lin Jianxi chuckled. “Treating me like a stuffed doll? Or do you miss your mommy? You’re clingier than a kindergarten kid.”

“Hey, that’s enough,” the man said, setting the meal down on the coffee table as he eyed the mixed-race young man. “He’s not feeling well. Stay away from him.”

The young man went off to the bathroom reluctantly. Lin Jianxi picked at his food, but he had no appetite—probably because of his condition. Anything he ate made him nauseous, so he gradually stopped trying. Only when his hands trembled badly did he realize he needed to replenish his energy.

In a way, his life had fallen into a routine.

He’d get bullied a little, play the frail card, get pampered in return, then eat and sleep. When the mood struck, he’d tease some of the shyer kids and watch their faces turn red—it was amusing enough to make him smile for a bit.

In the end, they all desired him.

After enduring for a few days, the ones secretly competing with each other suddenly reached a consensus. Someone asked if they could let him bite them—it would definitely make him feel better, and they’d take turns.

Lin Jianxi asked the System flatly, “Isn’t this a bit restrictive? Is the Quick Transmigration Bureau really that open-minded?”

The System, utterly engrossed, replied, “You’re the host who’s taken the plot in the most thrilling direction out of all the ones I’ve guided, heh heh heh. We don’t have any review standards—anything goes!”

Lin Jianxi: “…”

A proper organization?

Lin Jianxi listened to the sound of cartoons playing on the TV, unsure what else to do. He let his mind go blank. Suddenly, someone announced, “Mr. Song is here.”

The others panicked. “Quick, hide!”

When Lin Jianxi ducked under the table, he thought to himself that it didn’t matter where he hid—Song Cheng’an could always find him if he wanted to drag him out.

He heard the door open and close, along with greetings. Not even a single “mm” escaped Song Cheng’an’s throat as a response.

Song Cheng’an was always terse around others.

Light footsteps.

Drawing closer.

Closer still.

A familiar scent…

Lin Jianxi slowly closed his eyes, his hands clenching slightly on his knees.

No matter what, he didn’t want anything to happen with Song Cheng’an. For one thing, he truly couldn’t accept it. For another, if Gu Heng found out in prison, he’d probably lose his mind. And given Song Cheng’an’s personality, he’d no doubt keep probing to confirm whether Lin Jianxi actually loved him. But Lin Jianxi had no such feelings for Song Cheng’an—it might just drive the man even crazier in the end.

It would be better than the original plot, at least.

Lin Jianxi’s lashes trembled faintly… Had the plot devolved into this dead end because of him?

…

Ten minutes passed. No sound. No one standing in front of the table.

Then, a door opened and closed somewhere nearby.

The young men made faint noises.

…He’d left again.

Lin Jianxi let out a breath of relief. He relaxed under the table for a moment before crawling out, propping his arms on the edge to rise slowly—

The instant he looked up, his breath caught.

He saw Song Cheng’an’s legs.

Lin Jianxi lifted his gaze, and sure enough, Song Cheng’an stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest.

Staring at him with a smile.