Chapter 113: The Jealous Apocalyptic White Lotus · 10

Xu Youran tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. He’d only wanted Su Wenyu to feel his heartbeat—how did that make him shameless? Having rarely ever been called such a thing, Xu Youran touched his own face. He thought he was quite concerned about his face; after all, such a good-looking one didn’t have a spare. After a brief moment of narcissism, he looked back at Su Wenyu, who was still flushed and struggling. His heartbeat inexplicably sped up again.

He didn’t quite understand why. He could only continue to stare at Su Wenyu. Su Wenyu had a very beautiful face. If he had long hair and wore a skirt, he’d probably be called as pretty as a girl. His round eyes looked pure and innocent, but the outer corners tilted up slightly with a naturally alluring curve. At this moment, those pretty eyes were filled with fury. His eyes were brimming with tears, and the rims were completely red. Oh, not just his eyes. His face, his ears, his neck too—

Xu Youran’s gaze instinctively followed the trail downwards, past the slight prominence of Su Wenyu’s Adam’s apple, further down to his collarbone, which was barely hidden by the edge of his collar. Suddenly, Xu Youran let go of Su Wenyu’s hand.

Su Wenyu, who had been secretly straining against him, was nearly sent flying backwards into the wall by the sudden release. Xu Youran’s hand was there just in time, cradling the back of his head and saving him from a collision. Su Wenyu’s instinct was to thank him—until he remembered the culprit who’d almost caused the accident in the first place. The words died in his throat, replaced by a simmering glare of resentment.

Xu Youran didn’t notice his expression. After protecting his head, his other hand, in a practiced move, flipped up the hem of Su Wenyu’s shirt and yanked it upwards. Su Wenyu’s upper body was suddenly completely exposed to his view.

“Oh,” Xu Youran exhaled, as if confirming some private theory. A pleased smile curved his lips. “Pink.”

The area around his collarbone, and further down… those points were pink too. Xu Youran felt nothing in particular looking at his own body, but looking at Su Wenyu’s made his mouth feel dry and his throat tighten inexplicably. His Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly. Seeing Su Wenyu’s body, flushed and pink from humiliation and anger, sent his heart into chaotic palpitations. This feeling was novel, something Xu Youran had never experienced. Yet, strangely, he didn’t resist this slightly out-of-control sensation; he was even a little addicted. His broad, warm palm settled on Su Wenyu’s lower abdomen, slowly moving upward—

SMACK! A resounding slap snapped Xu Youran out of his hungry, trance-like state.

His head was knocked to the side. A vivid red handprint immediately bloomed on his pale cheek. Having likely never been slapped in his life, it wasn’t until a fierce, burning pain radiated from his right cheek that Xu Youran belatedly turned his head back. His expression was dangerous as it landed on Su Wenyu’s face, his voice icy. “You hit me?”

Su Wenyu, seeing Xu Youran’s hand still in that inappropriate place, was suddenly overcome with a surge of grief and indignation. “So what if I hit you?!” With a swing of his other hand, he delivered another crisp slap to Xu Youran’s opposite cheek and yelled, “Go ahead, kill me if you’ve got the guts!”

He’d rather die than be humiliated! Xu Youran had repeatedly laid hands on him, touched him all over without permission. Even a man made of clay would have a temper by now. Worst case, he’d get beaten to death. If he got pummeled, it was just his bad luck. But if he wasn’t beaten to death, he’d get a few kicks in to vent his fury! Su Wenyu clenched his jaw, bracing himself for mutual destruction the moment Xu Youran retaliated.

Yet, after receiving that second slap, Xu Youran fell silent. Not only was he silent, but he seemed to have zoned out. With two red palm prints on his face, he looked lost in thought. Just as Su Wenyu was contemplating whether to just kick him off the bed, Xu Youran finally moved.

Su Wenyu immediately went on the defensive, expecting a fight. But Xu Youran simply released the hand that had been holding him down. Kneeling on the bed beside Su Wenyu, he did something completely unexpected. He hooked his fingers into his own waistband, pulled his pants out, and looked down.

Su Wenyu’s eyes, completely bewildered, instinctively followed his gaze downwards.

…

Xu Youran was hard.

Holding Su Wenyu’s hand and making him feel his chest—not hard. Hand on Su Wenyu’s body, watching that pink flush spread—not hard. But after getting slapped twice, he’d gotten hard. Xu Youran was clearly just as baffled by his body’s current reaction. He stared down at himself, tugging at his waistband, looking thoroughly confused, though his heart was still pounding fast.

If the first slap brought a sense of humiliation at being struck, the second slap… had actually turned him on. Seeing Su Wenyu also looking down there, Xu Youran humbly asked him for advice. “Why is it doing this?”

Su Wenyu was mortified beyond belief. He immediately wrapped himself in the blanket and shrank into the corner of the bed, averting his gaze and cursing, “How the hell should I know?! You’re not normal! You’re sick! A pervert!”

Xu Youran stared at his own reaction for a while. He figured Su Wenyu’s insults had some merit. Getting hard from being slapped? Yeah, that was a bit abnormal. But also kind of… nice. He touched the fiery sting on his face, then glanced at Su Wenyu, who was huddled like a cornered, pitiful little animal against the wall. Xu Youran’s reaction only intensified.

“I get it now,” Xu Youran seemed to have an epiphany. He pointed downwards. “It likes you.”

Su Wenyu was only able to keep himself from cursing him out further through sheer force of good upbringing. “Maybe it doesn’t like me. Maybe it just likes being slapped by me,” he retorted.

“Which is the same as liking you.”

“You’ve never been slapped by anyone else. How would you know if…” Su Wenyu’s voice trailed off abruptly when Xu Youran’s expression turned cold, the earlier amusement vanishing without a trace.

Xu Youran looked at him quietly for a moment. “Who says I’ve never been slapped by anyone else?” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I grew up getting slapped around.”

Su Wenyu watched his expression darken as some memory surfaced, growing more dangerous by the second. He instantly shut up, too scared to say another word. That look on Xu Youran’s face—it looked like he wanted to kill someone. But once Su Wenyu calmed down a fraction, he realized he wasn’t quite ready to die yet. He still wanted to survive. So, facing Xu Youran’s murderous gaze, he could only force a strained smile, trying to look as harmless as possible.

Xu Youran snapped out of his dark recollection, seeing a smile on Su Wenyu’s face that looked worse than a grimace. He reached out and pinched his cheek. “Don’t smile like that. It’s ugly.”

Su Wenyu had thought he was about to get hit. He was just about to fight back when his face was grabbed and kneaded between Xu Youran’s palms like dough, all his protests thoroughly squished into silence.

“Alright, that’s enough. Stop fussing and go to sleep.” Xu Youran, having thoroughly messed up Su Wenyu’s face, felt much better. He climbed off the bed to turn off the lights and urged Su Wenyu to sleep.

Su Wenyu was utterly flabbergasted by his shameless ability to turn the tables. Who was fussing?! Who started the ‘fuss’ the moment he’d lain down to sleep?! He wanted to curse him out again. But then he remembered—he’d slapped the guy twice, and Xu Youran hadn’t hit him back, hadn’t even cursed at him. An inexplicable guilt crept in.

Su Wenyu was just that type: yielding to softness but not force, remembering favors, not grudges. Seeing Xu Youran turn off the light, climb back into bed, and even pull the blanket up to cover him a bit more, that earlier spark of fury in his heart just vanished. Su Wenyu wanted to curse his own lack of resolve. Getting felt up, only to go soft-hearted just because he’d slapped the guy twice. Next time, he needed to be tougher. If Xu Youran tried any funny business again, he’d kick him right in the family jewels! Next time. He’d do it next time.

Lying on his side facing the wall, Su Wenyu listened as Xu Youran lay back down beside him. The dorm bed was small, but Su Wenyu, on his side, didn’t take up much space. Xu Youran, long-limbed as he was, didn’t seem cramped either. A few inches of space separated them. Su Wenyu kept his lips sealed, eyes wide open in the dark, staring at the wall, refusing to sleep. He wanted to wait until Xu Youran fell asleep first. He was afraid this lunatic would try something else while he was unconscious.

Only when the breathing behind him became slow and steady did Su Wenyu figure he was finally asleep. His tense body relaxed slightly. The exhaustion from the day’s mental strain then washed over him. Su Wenyu closed his eyes and was out within minutes.

Once Su Wenyu was asleep, Xu Youran, who’d been feigning sleep, opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the back of Su Wenyu’s head. The night deepened, and the lightless room was pitch black. Xu Youran reached out, tentatively placing his hand on Su Wenyu’s waist over his clothes. He waited, gauging his own body’s reaction. A few seconds later, he withdrew his hand. Staring at the ceiling, he focused on suppressing those chaotic physical reactions. It took half an hour before both his mind and body finally calmed down. The guy beside him was breathing lightly, deep in sleep. Xu Youran, after a moment of quiet, closed his eyes too.

–

At six in the morning, Su Wenyu was awakened by 520’s cheerful, melodious chirping. He opened his eyes to the sight of the wall. It took his brain a few seconds to process where he was. Then, he slowly sat up and realized Xu Youran was no longer in the bed.

Where had he gone? Su Wenyu instinctively glanced at the balcony, suspecting Xu Youran had jumped back to his own dorm in the middle of the night.

“He’s in the bathroom,” 520 said, flying over from the balcony and landing on the bedpost, answering Su Wenyu’s unspoken question.

Su Wenyu looked towards the bathroom and only then noticed the light was on, the faint sound of a shower running. Hadn’t he just showered last night? Why again? Su Wenyu eyed the bathroom door, puzzled but not thinking much of it. He just scratched his messy bedhead and climbed down the ladder.

When Xu Youran emerged from his shower, Su Wenyu was fiddling with his little pot.

“What are you making?” Xu Youran asked.

Su Wenyu glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Seeing he was fully dressed and not just wrapped in a towel, he relaxed. “Found some oatmeal at the bottom of the cabinet. Thought I’d cook some.” He shook the container, which still had quite a bit left. “Want some?”

Xu Youran stared at his face for a moment before answering. “Sure.”

Su Wenyu just said “Oh” and took the pot to the bathroom to fill it with water, planning to boil it and cook the oatmeal. If he used a lot, it might even turn out like porridge. But Xu Youran’s earlier reaction struck him as strange. He looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and asked 520, “Was there something on my face just now?”

520 shook its little head. “No, nothing.”

“Then why was he looking at me so weirdly?” Su Wenyu muttered, puzzled. 520 didn’t know either. When in its parrot body, 520 also had a habit of sleeping. Plus, last night, Xu Youran and Su Wenyu had done some awfully embarrassing things on that bed. 520 hadn’t dared to keep watching and had shut down its visual feed to retreat to its system interface. When it reactivated, Xu Youran was already up, so it had no idea what was up with him.

Su Wenyu thought it over, couldn’t figure it out, and decided to drop it. Xu Youran was a weirdo to begin with, never really normal. Wasting brainpower on him was less productive than figuring out how to make the oatmeal taste better. Humming a tuneless little song, he cheerfully filled the pot, imagining the finished oatmeal.

Outside the bathroom, Xu Youran watched Su Wenyu’s back as he stood at the sink. He quietly retrieved his underwear from behind his back—the ones he’d soiled and just scrubbed clean—and hung them out to dry on the balcony.

Xu Youran never could have imagined that at the age of 20, lying in a man’s bed, he would have a nocturnal emission.