Lin Se had recently been devouring books on psychology, largely because he wanted to figure out what exactly was going on in Bo Chengyan’s head.
A toxic family environment could warp a child’s psyche in profoundly distorted ways, typically resulting in one of two extremes: a perpetual plunge into the abyss, or a phoenix-like rise from the ashes.
The line between them was razor-thin, as the saying went—”genius to the left, madman to the right.”
Heirs emerging from such dysfunctional families often harbored extreme notions or lingering shadows that no amount of sunlight could dispel.
The Bo Family might not have been destitute, but when it came to twisted relationships, no one could hold a candle to them.
The tabloids had never let up.
Lin Se was mainly curious about the origins of excessively high sensory thresholds. Normally, people only had one or two outliers.
Take sexual thresholds, for instance: if they were too high, pleasure became elusive even after hours of effort, potentially spiraling into frigidity or sadism.
A pain threshold set too high meant diminished sensitivity to injury—people might not even notice wounds until much later, which could foster masochistic tendencies over time.
…
It dawned on Lin Se belatedly: had Bo Chengyan been suppressing things too hard? On the surface, he was the picture of refined civility, but what if those negative emotions had never truly dissipated inside?
Seeing someone so pristine and pure…
Addictive?
He frowned. Long-term emotional numbness and detachment usually pointed to an elevated dopamine threshold.
Humans lived in pursuit of pleasure. Deprived of that dopamine rush for too long, they veered toward self-destruction.
Lin Se twirled his pen absently, his thoughts drifting to Qi Jing, who reminded him of a delicate doll.
So clean.
Yes, that was his impression from the very first time he’d laid eyes on him.
The boy was pure, untainted.
Even out in Great Cool Mountain, Lin Se would have felt compelled to rescue a child like that.
But a normal person… wouldn’t whisk him away so impulsively.
Too many practical considerations got in the way, and it wasn’t just a matter of money.
Bo Chengyan hadn’t lost his temper, let alone gotten physical, in years. Yet here he was, acting so recklessly over those blood-unrelated parents of his, as if the steady balance of his life had suddenly tipped.
Was he using Qi Jing like some kind of medication?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when his phone rang. Lin Se picked it up without hesitation.
“D-Doctor…? He… he told me to call you. C-Can you come over?”
“Fl-Flourishing Cloud Hotel.”
Qi Jing’s voice was low and halting, laced with obvious panic.
But this was Bo Chengyan’s phone.
Lin Se was about to press for details when a gentler voice came through the line, as if instructing him.
—Have him take a sedative.
“S-Sedative.”
—Doctor Lin. Little Jing, his surname is Lin. Remember to use his proper title.
“Doctor Lin…”
Lin Se’s body moved faster than his brain. He swiftly gathered his injection kit and said calmly, “Qi Jing, don’t hang up.”
“Has he been drugged?”
“What about you? Are you okay?”
The call cut off with a click. No telling if Qi Jing had even heard the last part.
Lin Se: “…”
Bastard.
~~~
Truth be told, incidents like this were all too common. Years ago, they were even more brazen—straight-up drugging.
A headline like “Ling Yue Group President Rapes Innocent Girl/Boy” would send the stock market into a tailspin.
Head to the ER?
Out of the question. Rivals had eyes everywhere. They’d snap photos at any hospital, team up with the so-called “victim,” and deliver a one-two punch.
It might not kill you, but it would make your life hell.
Lin Se slid into his car, his mood a tangled mess as memories from years past resurfaced.
At first, the rivals sent ordinary women. When that failed repeatedly, they got creative: housewives, minors.
They even sent a pregnant woman once.
Back then, Lin Se had only been treating Bo Chengyan for chronic headaches. How could a man at the peak of his career seem so world-weary, like some middle-aged depressive?
Trust had built gradually, starting with a psychological assessment. Bo Chengyan had simply asked, “Why can’t I feel pain?”
His thresholds were off.
Legitimate competitors wouldn’t stoop to such tactics—at least not openly. They left the dirty work to underlings.
Underhanded sabotage was easier in the shadows anyway.
Lin Se stepped out of the car and headed straight for the elevator, following the SMS instructions.
But as he watched the floor numbers climb…
“…”
The young man traced a cross over his chest. Amen.
~~~
Two hours earlier—
Qi Jing’s wrist was yanked, and he was lifted clean off the ground. Bo Chengyan carried him away with effortless strength.
The air was thick with the scent of alcohol.
Qi Jing’s body temperature was climbing, his emotions a chaotic storm he couldn’t rein in. He stammered, “I…”
Where was 996?
Why hadn’t it come back?
Bo Chengyan gripped his neck, tilting Qi Jing’s chin with one hand and pressing it closer with his index finger.
Those watery eyes gazed up at him.
“Not being good.”
996 couldn’t return at all. It stared blankly at the wreckage on the 30th floor. This was supposed to be the perfect plot beat.
Romantic. Fated.
Xiao Cui, playing the NPC, had cozied up to the rival company’s boss in a bid to drug Bo Chengyan. Confident in his looks, he’d fumbled the wine bottle, staining Qi Jing’s clothes and drawing the target’s attention.
It backfired spectacularly. Xiao Cui’s advances were rebuffed; instead, he was forced to drink. Dejected, he watched his despised colleague steal the spotlight. Malice bubbled up, and he passed the drugged wine along.
Go on, act all high and mighty. Look down on me, will you?
See how smug you are when some rando picks up your corpse!
Ruan Heng drank it.
996’s setup was ingenious.
Ruan Heng was stubborn; he couldn’t handle more but offered with dignified defiance, “Allow me to toast you.”
That blatant show of backbone earned Bo Chengyan’s respect. Capitalists didn’t torment the working class every day.
No need.
Besides, the man had given Qi Jing a spare shirt.
Bo Chengyan drank.
Mission accomplished, thought 996. The protagonist bottom had downed drugged wine. The protagonist top had too. The cannon fodder had provided the nudge.
Over.
All they needed was a bed.
Except… something went wrong.
Why had both of them rushed off?
Wait, wasn’t this love at first sight?
996 fretted that the protagonist bottom might actually get picked up by a stranger—that would derail the plot for real. It flitted around, checking data.
And completely overlooked Bo Chengyan.
And Qi Jing, waiting obediently in the changing room.
…
The smart wristband had GPS.
Bo Chengyan found him without much trouble. He’d even locked the door from the outside. His blood was racing now; he was half a second from ripping it off its hinges.
The boy emerged on his own.
The tension eased instantly.
Good boy.
Bo Chengyan instinctively scooped him up—Qi Jing was so slight, like a rag doll.
A doll that could cry and laugh.
His doll.
Qi Jing was mumbling something, halting words tumbling out.
Bo Chengyan frowned. He didn’t want to hear it.
He carried him to the hotel.
Once inside the room, he didn’t let go. He sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at the boy in his arms.
“Take off your clothes,” Bo Chengyan said tonelessly.
Qi Jing flinched, his face draining of color. “D-Don’t wanna.”
One was feverish and dazed; the other felt off in his own body.
Bo Chengyan set him on the bed’s edge with one hand and shrugged off his suit jacket. Qi Jing looked up at him, panic brimming in his eyes.
The moment Qi Jing twitched as if to bolt, a strong arm snaked around his waist.
The ill-fitting shirt came undone button by button, exposing swathes of skin.
Then Bo Chengyan draped his jacket over him.
“…”
Qi Jing’s chin was still pinched, his eyes glistening with moisture, his expression utterly bewildered.
Bo Chengyan scooped him up again. The hotel bed was filthy; treating it like a contamination hazard, he settled Qi Jing on his lap instead and carefully inspected his arms.
They were covered in a dense rash of red bumps.
An allergic reaction.
The shirt’s cheap material wasn’t helping.
Qi Jing never wore outsiders’ clothes at home; his skin had been pampered to porcelain fragility. The slightest bump left bruises.
Never mind this mass-produced factory rag.
“Why hide in there?” Bo Chengyan even had the presence of mind for small talk. He leaned in close, scrutinizing Qi Jing’s face from every angle.
Like appraising a prized possession.
“N-Nothing…”
Hands pressed against the back of his neck, trapping him. Qi Jing’s cheeks burned, his thoughts a jumbled haze.
“You like me, don’t you?”
“Yet you’re so scared.”
Those frequent confessions had spilled out like they cost nothing. Now, bringing it up turned the boy’s face scarlet, his fever flaring hotter.
The oversized suit jacket swallowed his upper body. Qi Jing stared down at his wrist, eyelids heavy.
He hadn’t even realized he was allergic…
His thoughts fragmented for a moment.
“I like you.”
Freed from the goldfinch role, Qi Jing stated it plainly.
No response.
Huh?
He tilted his head up. Bo Chengyan seemed slightly distracted, murmuring mildly, “Hm?”
The metallic tang of blood filled the air.
Drip—
Qi Jing looked down in confusion. Bo Chengyan’s palm was torn open, blood trickling steadily.
The other man followed the young man’s gaze downward before murmuring in a daze, “Hm? You’re bleeding…”
Bo Chengyan pulled him up by the waist, as if something had finally clicked in his mind. In a warm voice, he said, “Little Jing, take out my phone.”
Qi Jing couldn’t get a single word out. His hands trembled slightly, but he managed to fish it from his pocket. Unfortunately, it was locked with a password.
Bo Chengyan prompted, “The day you came to my house.”
The young man’s eyes widened a fraction.
“Don’t remember?”
Bo Chengyan let out a soft chuckle. “June twenty-eighth.”
Qi Jing ducked his head and punched in the code. It unlocked.
“Go on, make the call…”
The older man coaxed him patiently, though his breathing came in ragged bursts. As Qi Jing bowed his head, the nape of his neck came into view—pale skin marred by a swath of red.
From all the rubbing.
Bo Chengyan’s thoughts were muddled, but he guided him step by step anyway. “Mm, go ahead and call.”
Until Lin Se’s voice cut through: “Qi Jing, don’t hang up.”
Bo Chengyan scowled in irritation and ended the call. With one hand, he fired off a text with their location. Outwardly, he appeared perfectly normal.
Qi Jing sat on the man’s lap, his waist pinned firmly in Bo Chengyan’s grip with not the slightest hint of resistance. Only his heart hammered wildly in his chest.
[Aphrodisiac…]
[Don’t they all… in the videos…]
[Why no reaction?]
The young man was utterly baffled.
A soft laugh drifted down from above his head.
Before Qi Jing could respond, fingers clamped around his neck—like a little bird caught by the throat.
“What exactly has Little Jing been learning?”
The tone was even, but laced with restraint.
Their breaths began to mingle. The large hand pressing against him through the loose fabric of the suit felt scorching hot. Qi Jing sensed something strange stirring within himself.
He pressed his thighs together.
“Are you going to kiss me?” the young man asked, tilting his head back.
“No kiss.”
Their foreheads touched lightly.
Bo Chengyan murmured softly, “Why didn’t you mention you had a fever?”
Then he pulled away.
He pulled away!
A surge of unwillingness crashed over Qi Jing. Why not kiss him?
Chaotic emotions flooded in all at once. Was it because he thought Qi Jing was too young?
But he was an adult now.
The young man bit his lip, summoning his courage. He grabbed the other’s sleeve and leaned up…
Right at that moment.
Lin Se burst out of the elevator and shoved open the hotel room door.
