Chapter 5: Good Night

Quan Heng had been blamed for something the system did. Before he could say a word, Wen Congrong finished the orange, went back to the bedroom for a change of clothes, and headed to wash up.

When he came out, still damp from the shower, he saw Quan Heng sitting on the sofa, lost in thought.

The cartoon on TV played in the background, cats and dogs chattering away. Quan Heng’s hair hung loose, still half wet. The dim yellow light cast shadows across the room, leaving half his face lost in darkness.

Wen Congrong glanced at him a few times, then set the dirty clothes he’d brought from the bathroom on the coffee table.

“Your clothes. Wash them yourself.” The apartment was too small for a washing machine.

He’d already scrubbed his own clothes clean. He wasn’t responsible for washing Quan Heng’s.

Quan Heng came back to himself at the sound of his voice. He looked over, those pretty dark eyes settling on Wen Congrong, and reached for the clothes.

Thinking he’d agreed, Wen Congrong started to turn away. Then he heard a whoosh behind him. He spun around just as something soft smacked into his chest.

He caught it quickly and saw that it was Quan Heng’s clothes. Stunned, Wen Congrong looked up and found Quan Heng sitting with his chin raised, his sharp jawline tilted toward him.

“I’m not washing them.”

“You’re not?” Wen Congrong repeated, unable to believe what he’d heard.

“If you don’t, who will?”

Quan Heng said nothing. But his clear eyes stayed fixed on Wen Congrong, making his unspoken meaning perfectly obvious.

“Are you serious, man?” Wen Congrong felt disillusioned. He’d never imagined that the pitiful victim he’d seen in the private room would turn into this kind of unmanageable demon once he got home.

This was his apartment. He’d been kind enough to bring Quan Heng back. He wasn’t expecting a thank-you, but how could the man order him around like this?

“I’m not washing them for you.” Wen Congrong had delivered food all day, then climbed eight floors in a desperate rescue, and come home to cook two meals. He was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to argue.

He set Quan Heng’s clothes down, his voice strained. “If you don’t wash them, you won’t have anything clean to wear. Think about that.”

He’d made his position clear. Quan Heng still sat sprawled on the sofa as if he had no intention of moving. Wen Congrong rubbed his face, frowned, and went into the bedroom.

Quan Heng watched him go until Wen Congrong disappeared from sight.

Good job, Host! The protagonist must be furious now. He’ll throw you out before long! The system landed beside Quan Heng’s clothes and cheered him on. Then I can post a video of him kicking you out online.

The system had been messing around for a while without figuring out why its own Villain Points had gone up. It gave up trying to work it out and started happily checking Quan Heng’s score instead. Then it remembered something and added, Don’t forget to get the evidence against those CEOs back before he throws you out.

Those CEOs would play an important role later, when they started targeting the protagonist. The evidence couldn’t stay in his hands.

Quan Heng didn’t respond to the gray ball’s enthusiastic little fists. He gave a noncommittal answer and looked toward the doorway, about to turn away when the familiar figure reappeared.

Wen Congrong came out carrying a thick blanket and put it on the sofa. Then he went to fetch a broom and a mop.

He moved everything in the living room out of the way. When he reached the coffee table, he noticed Quan Heng lift his feet. Once Wen Congrong had mopped beneath him, Quan Heng put them back down.

Quan Heng cooperated quickly, but his feet didn’t fit his slippers. Half his heels hung over the backs, and his Achilles tendons stood out, slender and taut. Wen Congrong caught sight of a mark near one of them.

He frowned and looked up. Quan Heng met his gaze.

The man smiled brightly, his striking features fixed on Wen Congrong. He showed no sign that he felt bad about letting his host do all the work. He even hugged the throw pillow more tightly, resting his chin on it as if to direct Wen Congrong to clean the spots he hadn’t reached yet.

Wen Congrong raised an eyebrow and looked away, thinking the man was ridiculous.

“Get up,” he said, his voice less than friendly. “I need to put this sofa away.”

Quan Heng didn’t move. He looked at Wen Congrong with an innocent expression, as if he didn’t understand.

Wen Congrong frowned impatiently. He was about to say more when he noticed the marks on the arm Quan Heng had wrapped around the pillow.

The water had washed them pale, but blood still stained the shallow scratches that crossed his fair skin. They stood out.

Wen Congrong paused, forcing down his irritation, and sighed. “If I don’t put the sofa away, there won’t be enough room to sleep on the floor. Are you going to sleep or not?”

Before Quan Heng could answer, he added, “Because I am.”

He’d done a good deed and brought home a tyrant. Wen Congrong was fed up. But he’d brought this on himself, it was late, and Quan Heng had no money. He couldn’t really leave the man out on the street.

Quan Heng noticed the shadows under Wen Congrong’s eyes.

Any normal person would have backed down and felt at least a little guilty. After all, he was a guest who’d been taken in.

Quan Heng moved his legs as if he were getting up.

Wen Congrong relaxed, thinking the man had finally come to his senses. But as he bent over, Quan Heng stuck out a foot and tripped him.

Wen Congrong lost his balance. The room spun. The mop slipped from his hand, and he felt an arm catch him around the waist. A moment later, he was sitting on something warm and firm.

Then the warm, firm object disappeared, leaving him alone on the sofa.

Wen Congrong didn’t have time to wonder whether he’d just landed on Quan Heng’s thigh. His temples throbbed. He glared at the culprit and finally lost his temper.

“Quan Heng! If you don’t want to stay here, then just—”

The rest of his words died in his throat.

Quan Heng stood there holding the mop, wearing slippers that didn’t fit. He looked at Wen Congrong in confusion.

The man seemed to have been startled by Wen Congrong’s sudden shout. A loose strand of hair trembled against his eyelashes, which fluttered over eyes that looked even more bewildered.

“What’s wrong?” Quan Heng asked.

“Nothing.” Wen Congrong irritably raked a hand through his hair. His anger had nowhere to go, and seeing Quan Heng earnestly mopping the floor for him only made him more annoyed.

Quan Heng had knocked him over without warning, but now he looked as if Wen Congrong had been the one to bully him.

Whatever. Wen Congrong got up from the sofa and shoved it into the far corner. He let it go.

It felt odd, but Quan Heng had wanted him to rest and had helped with the chores. There wasn’t much to complain about.

The two of them settled into a strange balance. Wherever Wen Congrong tidied, Quan Heng followed and helped.

Once they’d cleared enough space, Wen Congrong looked at Quan Heng, who had picked up the blanket and was waiting for the floor to dry. The tall man was wrapped in the soft, plain-colored blanket. Now that he wasn’t causing trouble or ordering anyone around, he looked obedient again.

With his beautiful face, he even seemed languid and refined.

Wen Congrong sighed softly, took the blanket from him, and set it on the sofa. Then he pressed Quan Heng down onto it.

“Wait here for a minute.”

He went into the bedroom again and came back quickly with a large plastic box.

Wen Congrong walked over and opened it. Inside was a small collection of medicine.

“Give me your arm.” He took Quan Heng’s injured arm and examined it. Then he pulled over the trash can and opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide to clean the wound.

Wen Congrong had expected Quan Heng to cause trouble again, but when he applied the peroxide and then iodine, the man didn’t make a sound.

That was a good thing. It saved time.

The frown he’d worn since coming home finally eased. Wen Congrong carefully dabbed the medicine on with a cotton swab.

Quan Heng lowered his head.

From this angle, he could see Wen Congrong’s black hair and the tiny whorl at the crown. His short, half-damp hair swept outward from it. The hairstyle was simple and neat.

Wen Congrong’s lowered head hid most of his face. Quan Heng couldn’t see his expression, but his still lashes showed how focused he was. His red lips disappeared beneath his straight, high nose.

With a face so clean-cut and handsome, Wen Congrong really did have the looks to become a sensation once he entered show business. It would also attract plenty of unsavory attention.

Click, click. The sound of a camera shutter suddenly went off beside him. Quan Heng came back to himself and glanced over. The system was hovering nearby, snapping pictures as fast as it could.

Perfect, Host! The system cheered. Once these photos get out, they’ll prove the rumor that the protagonist has a secret lover! Then the company can make him pose with a rising young actress, and he’ll be exposed as a cheater!

Quan Heng’s expression was indifferent, but when the system said “lover,” it shifted slightly. If the system thought this looked like a couple together, did it mean they seemed close?

Why? Was Wen Congrong’s attraction to him that obvious?

The idea was intriguing. It was a new experience for Quan Heng.

The system didn’t notice the subtle change in Quan Heng’s gaze. It kept babbling. I also got pictures of you arguing earlier, and of you holding the protagonist on your lap. I even used a paparazzi angle.

They’ll be great blackmail material against the protagonist! The Villainous Revelry System hugged its camera and grinned, already picturing its capable host completing the mission and taking them both to the top.

When Wen Congrong finished applying the medicine and let go, he noticed Quan Heng looking at him. The man’s gaze was intent and curious, as if he’d figured something out.

It was hard to read and a little strange.

But Wen Congrong was too tired to think about it. He put the medicine away, made up a bed for Quan Heng, turned off the lights, and yawned as he returned to his room.

“Good night,” Wen Congrong murmured sleepily.

Click. The switch went off, taking the last of the light from the room. The living room became a closed-off space as the bedroom door shut.

Quan Heng sat on the thick bedding with a spare quilt beside his knees.

The system had gone back to the System Space to sleep. Its soft electrical snores sounded like white noise.

Quan Heng gestured toward the window. The curtains were pulled tight, keeping every trace of moonlight out.

He hugged the quilt and propped his chin on one hand, thinking for a long while. Wen Congrong’s dark, shadowed eyes crossed his mind. At last, Quan Heng slowly lay down.