Chapter 74

A Yi made him a proper, hearty meal.

Lin Jianxi had barely taken a few bites before he started dozing off. A Yi didn’t get upset. Instead, he casually snapped a photo, making sure to “accidentally” capture the coil of hemp rope on the floor. Then he stood beside Lin Jianxi and asked softly, “Can you hold on a bit longer?”

Lin Jianxi mumbled, “Hm?”

“You’re completely out of it from sleepiness,” A Yi said. “Sleepier than a cat.”

Lin Jianxi: “Hm.”

He mechanically shoveled a small piece of fish into his mouth and chewed it slowly.

“Hey,” A Yi said with a chuckle, “do you even know what I’m talking about?”

“What?” Lin Jianxi looked up at him, his memories a jumbled mess. “Why do bananas grow on trees?”

“…”

A Yi burst out laughing. “You really are one of a kind. Sometimes you come across as so capable, like you’ve got everything under control. But most of the time, you’re just… like this.”

“It always makes me think…” A Yi’s smile faded as he grew serious. “Lin Jianxi, did you used to be on top of the world, only to get knocked down and abused? And you still haven’t managed to climb back up.”

“You threw me in jail, so you must’ve looked into my background,” Lin Jianxi said. He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to wake up, then stood.

“Of course. Aside from marrying Cheng Yedu, your whole life has been completely ordinary. The only real bump was when you worked as a secretary for a few years, got squeezed out by your office mates, switched to a dead-end job, and eventually quit to become a full-time housewife.”

The original host had gone through that too.

“You’re right. I’m just an ordinary guy. Marrying him was ordinary too—we met at a bar one night, hit it off, that’s all.” Lin Jianxi met A Yi’s gaze. “So, can I go back to bed now? Ordinary people get tired.”

~~~

Lin Jianxi sensed the unusual silence the moment he stepped inside.

He ignored it, hurried through his wash-up routine, and climbed into bed. That’s when a voice called out, “Lin Jianxi?”

He looked up to see a young man wearing glasses.

The young man hurried over, his face lighting up with surprise laced with a contempt that seemed bone-deep. “It really is you. Four years since I last saw you. Never thought we’d cross paths here.”

The System chimed in: “An unimportant side character—the ringleader who once isolated the original host. Sun Wei.”

The cell had eight bunks. With the new arrival, there were now five occupants.

At this rate, it’d fill up to eight before long…?

A Yi’s gaze lingered on Sun Wei with mild interest. Lin Jianxi smiled. “Long time no see.”

With that, he flipped open his quilt.

Sun Wei hesitated. “Ah… you’re still as quiet as ever. In prison, that kind of attitude will get you eaten alive.”

“…Tired,” Lin Jianxi murmured. “Everyone’s settling in for the night. Whatever it is, we can talk tomorrow.”

Sun Wei sidled closer. For some reason, Lin Jianxi caught a whiff of his scent and nearly gagged.

Sun Wei whispered, “How are the guys in here…?”

Lin Jianxi glanced at A Yi, who was smirking, and replied, “They’re all good people.”

One of the roommates, mid-sip of water, erupted into a fit of violent coughing.

A Yi started laughing too. “Yeah, all good people. We get along just fine.”

Sun Wei visibly relaxed.

He struck up a conversation with A Yi, chatting about this and that.

A Yi only smiled when replying to Lin Jianxi. After that, impatience crept into his expression. But when his eyes shifted to Lin Jianxi—who was staring at a blister pack of pills, debating whether to take them—his face brightened like clouds parting after a storm. Ignoring Sun Wei completely, he scooted over to sit beside Lin Jianxi.

“Still feeling rough?” A Yi asked. “Anything besides the meds that might help?”

Lin Jianxi stared into A Yi’s eyes, faintly tinged blue, and replied off-topic. “You really don’t need any ointment? Your face looks pretty messed up.”

“Then you put it on for me. How’s that?” A Yi leaned in closer. “Didn’t you say you’d do whatever I say?”

“…Fine. Whatever you say.”

Lin Jianxi’s lips curved in a helpless smile. He uncapped the ointment, squeezed a dab onto his finger, and gently applied it to A Yi’s face.

“Such a handsome face, and you go and ruin it like this,” Lin Jianxi murmured.

“The prison’s prettiest Chief Judge’s Wife thinks I’m handsome?” A Yi grinned adorably. “You know people on the outside are already peddling your photos?”

“Let them,” Lin Jianxi said, flicking his gaze to A Yi’s eyes. “With you protecting me, whatever they get up to has nothing to do with me.”

“…” A Yi’s smile froze.

“All done.” Lin Jianxi ignored his reaction, capped the ointment, and tugged his quilt over. He gave a faint smile. “Time for me to sleep. Good night, A Yi.”

A Yi didn’t reply.

Lin Jianxi wasn’t bothered. He simply waited quietly, his smile gentle, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion and drowsiness.

Only then did A Yi realize it: without the fear or detachment, this man’s eyes were hundreds of times more captivating than before. And it wasn’t just his eyes—his whole presence felt… different. A Yi’s heart twisted like a cat’s claw had raked it, leaving it achingly soft.

He wanted to hug Lin Jianxi so badly.

Wanted to wrap his arms tight around him, feel the warmth of his body, the give of his flesh, his utter dependence.

“Mm…” A Yi’s smile gradually returned. “Your compliments hit different from everyone else’s. I like them.”

With that, he suddenly leaned forward and pulled Lin Jianxi into his arms.

It wasn’t a gentle embrace—he pressed hard, almost fiercely. Lin Jianxi closed his eyes and let it happen, tilting his head to rest it on A Yi’s shoulder as he heard the man murmur—

“Good night, Lin Jianxi.”

~~~

Lin Jianxi hadn’t slept soundly in ages.

Nights were usually ruined by nausea, but tonight was different. He woke up annoyed.

The shackles around his ankle were usually so unobtrusive that he forgot about them half the time. But when he rolled over today, he felt the weight on his ankle. Realizing what it was, his mood plummeted.

He tried to shove down the wave of grievance and irritation, but it wouldn’t budge.

His mind echoed with a single thought: What did I do wrong to deserve this?

Although he knew this was due to the power struggle between A Yi and Cheng Yedu, and as Cheng Yedu’s family member, he was inevitably caught in the crossfire—A Yi was already treating him very well now, and he should learn to be content—but he just felt so aggrieved.

Very sad.

He even regretted marrying Cheng Yedu, aggrieved by A Yi’s recent cruelty, which had forced him to sleep in the bathroom for a week.

Extremely sad.

Lin Jianxi’s eyelashes trembled lightly. After a long moment, he silently bit the corner of the pillow and began to shed tears.

His heart was enveloped by a massive wave of sourness. The more he cried, the sadder he became. Finally, he let out a sob, unable to hold back from making a sound, wanting to cry out loud.

It was deep into the night.

His roommates were all asleep.

Lin Jianxi wiped at his tears, which wouldn’t dry no matter how much he wiped, then threw off the blanket and quietly headed to the bathroom.

He closed the door, intending to sort out his emotions, but the moment he saw that corner where he had once slept—and the cubicle—his tears burst forth like a dam breaking, falling wildly.

He squatted on the ground, burying his face in his knees, his body trembling.

Still so sad.

Even crying until his head ached, still sad.

He hiked up his pant leg, staring at the shackles with some anger. In merely five seconds, he stood up from the floor, vision blurred, walked out of the bathroom, and stood before A Yi’s bed.

A Yi this guy had woken up long ago and was sitting on the bed watching him, his eyes even carrying a hint of appreciating a beautiful view.

“……”

Lin Jianxi gritted his teeth lightly.

A jumble of chaotic thoughts suddenly flooded his mind.

Hit A Yi with a pillow, bite him with his teeth, kick him with his feet—even tie A Yi’s feet with a rope to make him feel the same—

His eyes were full of tears, reflecting the faint, fragmented light from the bathroom. Though there was some anger in them, it could be called utterly harmless—especially to a lunatic like A Yi, accustomed to bloodshed and violence.

No.

Doing that would be wrong.

But he was so angry.

The instant Lin Jianxi closed his eyes, two tears fell. He took a deep breath and said, “I’m very angry.”

A Yi: “……”

A Yi couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, you’re very angry.”

Lin Jianxi racked his brain but couldn’t pinpoint exactly what infuriated him most—he was just sad and aggrieved, with no idea how to vent the emotion. Finally, his mind short-circuited, and he blurted out, “Tonight, I’m sleeping with you.”

A Yi: “?”

With that, Lin Jianxi fetched a roll of bandages from the cabinet, returned to A Yi’s bedside, and—with an icy expression—yanked back the covers. His hands moved with swift, professional precision, wrapping the gauze around A Yi’s right ankle and tying it off with a neat knot.

Lin Jianxi looked up at him. “You should try what it feels like to be restrained, too.”

A Yi: “……”

Who said pregnancy brought endless hassle and annoyance? This was fun.

Lin Jianxi: “Lie down!”

A Yi lay down.

But Lin Jianxi didn’t lie beside him.

His heart was still stuffy with depression.

Lin Jianxi no longer knew what he wanted. He gazed blankly at the moon through the small window, suddenly recalling Moonlight Sonata, which led his thoughts to soothing music.

He suddenly wanted to listen to some songs.

His mood would surely improve.

But there was no music in prison…

Lin Jianxi looked at A Yi, remembering that A Yi had used his phone to take photos of him earlier that day.

A Yi rolled onto his side, eyes bright and faintly expectant. “What else do you want?”

“……I want to listen to music.”

Lin Jianxi knew his request was absurd, but he said it anyway. “I want to listen to music.”

“Sure,” A Yi agreed readily. He sat up and said softly, “You sleep on the inside. I’ll go get the earphones.”

“You have earphones?”

“I even have a kitchen. Why wouldn’t I have earphones?”

“……” Fair enough.

**

Lin Jianxi was very satisfied.

The tears stopped falling, and his mood settled.

He put on the earphones, queued up his favorite music, and curled up in the corner of the bed.

A Yi gazed at him gloomily. “Didn’t you say you were sleeping with me?”

“It’s too cramped.” Lin Jianxi scooted toward the edge, leaned close to A Yi, and whispered, “Thank you.”

“……Mm.”

The shift from rock bottom to calm was deeply enjoyable.

Lin Jianxi was in a rare good mood, his smiles more frequent than usual. He leaned in a little closer, his eyes shimmering with gentle fragments of laughter.

He looked at A Yi. A Yi looked back at him.

After a moment, Lin Jianxi leaned in slightly and pressed a feather-light kiss to A Yi’s cheek.

A touch, then apart.

The earphone cord brushed his neck, bringing a faint itch.

But A Yi froze as if nailed in place, his usual laid-back air vanishing in an instant, replaced by stark, rigid tension.

His kiss carried a unique fragrance.

It left A Yi’s mind hazy.

“Thank you. The music’s great.”

Lin Jianxi’s voice was soft. In this cell, in that moment, the space between them seemed to shrink to nothing, shutting out the world—only them, just them, in the dead of night, secretly nurturing something intimate.

“With your promise…”

Lin Jianxi’s voice faded as he gently pressed his forehead to A Yi’s, their warm breaths mingling.

In an extremely soft, tiny whisper, he said, “The little one and I can finally feel at ease.”