Jiang Xiuyuan felt a twinge of unease deep down. Why did it seem like a crowd had gathered around them? Had there really been this many people just moments ago?
And this Qi Jing—why did he look so thrilled?
Was it just his imagination?
Qi Jing was indeed itching to get started, his eyes sparkling brightly. This was the perfect chance to broadcast his relationship with Bo Chengyan to the world, cementing his status as the “Little Bird” who could topple empires and ruin nations.
That would secure his position for good.
The young man pursed his lips, standing tall with his chest puffed out.
The longer Jiang Xiuyuan watched, the more irritated he became. What was that supposed to mean? A challenge?
“You’re pathetic too. Everyone knows President Bo was a real player back in the day, cycling through lovers without a second thought. Who do you think you are?”
The words were laced with pure sarcasm.
His gaze raked the young man from head to toe. Just a tender little snack, nothing more.
Chen Zhuo sauntered into the midst of the crowd, long legs carrying him effortlessly. He clinked glasses with the man beside him, putting on the air of sealing a business deal. “President Su, it’s been ages. How have things been?”
In truth, his eyes were fixed on the dessert tower.
The kid was dressed like a dainty little figurine. Jiang Xiuyuan better not make him burst into tears later.
Qi Jing drew in a deep breath and pinched the flesh of his palm. Mist instantly clouded his eyes.
His voice came out muffled.
“It doesn’t matter. I like Mr. Bo. Even if he doesn’t want me, I’ll still like him.”
The onlookers shifted their gazes awkwardly. To have been trained to this degree—talk about devotion.
The clubhouse hummed with the gentle strains of a violin in the background, punctuated now and then by the clink of glasses.
Chen Zhuo hadn’t even finished watching the show when the man beside him vanished, his shoulder yanked aside.
“Let’s step out first.”
The spot by the dessert tower was actually quite cramped. Qi Jing stood with his back to the crowd, oblivious that his audience had already melted away.
Jiang Xiuyuan was utterly absorbed, his eyes reddening with fury. Putting on an act of deep affection, was he?
Playing at such a sophisticated level?
The air crackled with tension, so much so that he failed to notice Bo Chengyan standing nearby.
Or the furrow creasing his brow.
Because—
[You think you’re who! I’m a cute little bird, hehe.]
The young man mimicked Jiang Xiuyuan’s voice with uncanny accuracy, bantering back and forth with himself as he beamed like a sunflower in full bloom.
Bo Chengyan shut his eyes for a moment, a vein throbbing at his temple. He forced his feet to halt.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
“You think you can stick around with him for long? No one discarded by Bo Chengyan meets a good end!”
[I’ll head out after finishing school, lol. By the time the protagonist shows up, I’ll be off to university. Perfect!]
The young man tilted his head skyward, just like a tiny figurine whirling inside a music box, chest proudly thrust forward.
Bo Chengyan’s expression darkened in an instant. He hadn’t raised the boy just to watch him fly the coop. Who the hell had put that idea in his head?
“Quit the act. You’re smug now, but his bedroom tricks are infamous for their brutality. You’ll come crawling back begging for more, pain and all, won’t you?”
The words grew even cruder.
Qi Jing found this a bit too advanced and didn’t have a deep-affection line ready. He pondered for a moment.
[Rumors, probably. This novel’s a mess—settings that demand both virtue and vice… umm, maybe Bo Chengyan’s got issues down there? It’s been years with no action.]
He was practically dancing on a live wire.
Oblivious to what was unfolding behind him, Qi Jing took another deep breath. He pinched the soft inner flesh of his palm, and tears sprang to his eyes, dampening his lashes.
But before he could launch into his performance—
His wrist was seized in a firm grip and yanked backward. Tears still streaming, his vision blurred, Qi Jing dimly realized the man in front of him had vanished.
“Huh?”
He glanced around in bewilderment.
Strong arms encircled him, wrapping him in a familiar dark fragrance that left him too dazed to struggle.
“Little Jing.”
Qi Jing had no chance to respond. His chin was tilted upward, exposing his barely formed Adam’s apple to the press of a rough thumb.
It was like toying with a bird.
“We’re going home.”
~~~
Qi Jing was inexplicably led away. He’d been on the scene for less than an hour, and every photo taken had been scrubbed clean.
Chen Zhuo watched their retreating backs, lost in thought. What exactly was he treating the kid as?
His gaze turned icy.
He took a moment to shoot a message to his sister.
—He’s still glued to that Baby of his, holding on tight. Give it up. Why do you always crush on gay guys? I’m at my limit with you.
The atmosphere inside Brocade River Villas was grave. Following instructions, Qi Jing changed into loungewear and descended the stairs to stand before Bo Chengyan.
Obedient as could be.
Bo Chengyan tugged irritably at his tie and lifted his gaze to stare at the young man.
He said nothing.
Qi Jing now stood at 175 centimeters tall. When Bo Chengyan had first brought him home, he’d been around 165. Ten centimeters of growth in two years.
His face hadn’t changed much—same size, same proportions as before.
Just those pale irises, brimming with curiosity.
Bo Chengyan had meant to probe those wildly contrasting inner thoughts, but suddenly the young man bent down and hugged him.
Tears glistened at the corners of his eyes as he murmured in grievance, “Mr. Bo…”
Qi Jing’s mind often ran in simple, straightforward lines. He didn’t indulge in elaborate inner monologues; he just acted or spoke.
Back when his parents tasked him with gathering pig grass, he’d stared blankly for a while before getting to it.
What was the point of overthinking?
Qi Jing was diligently embodying the definition 996 had pulled up for him via search: 【Goldfinch: A character commonly featured in domineering CEO novels from elite families. The passive partner in a power-for-sex transaction, enjoying lavish living conditions but denied true love from the dominant figure. They typically exit the stage in obscurity.】
They were kept for money, yet invariably ended up craving affection.
So strange.
Qi Jing clung steadfastly to his tuition fund, never forgetting his role: the cannon-fodder goldfinch in love with Bo Chengyan.
To him, love’s most direct expression was a hug.
That’s what he believed.
And that’s what he did.
Until he was pushed away.
“How old are you?” The man’s voice was flat.
Qi Jing had changed into light coffee-colored loungewear, the red marks on his neck standing out more starkly, as if he’d been thoroughly ravaged.
“Eighteen.”
“Say it again.”
Qi Jing lowered his eyes. “Seventeen.”
No birthday yet, after all.
“What did I tell you? Recite it.”
Qi Jing racked his brain earnestly. Truth be told, this was tricky. 996 had drilled the goldfinch persona into him, complete with a barrage of similar stories. He’d finally memorized it, only to keep mixing it up with those pampered-wife tropes.
His actions were spot-on now, though. 996 had warned that straying from character could flag anomalies to the Main System—straight to deletion.
Qi Jing worked diligently every day.
But Bo Chengyan had laid down the rules in those first two years, and he’d had to memorize those too. They often got jumbled.
“Under eighteen, no… randomly hugging people.”
“Study hard.”
Qi Jing felt a spike of anxiety. These were rules from two years back—why recite them still?
“No puppy love.”
“No tattoos, no hip-hop culture…” The young man’s face went blank as his mind raced: “homosexuality… non-mainstream…”
Auntie passed by behind them, bending to refill the teapot on the coffee table. Her eyes stayed demurely lowered, as if this were all perfectly routine.
[Can’t remember. Ah, it’s been so long.]
“I don’t remember, Mr. Bo.”
Qi Jing knew better than to dodge. He mumbled it out.
“I don’t like you.”
Qi Jing’s world shattered. Surprise bloomed across his fair face. 996 hadn’t covered this scenario.
Did the books have cases like this?
A benefactor who didn’t like his goldfinch?
But before he could process it—
“I’m just sponsoring your education. I never told you to consume that garbage. Where did you pick it up? Hm?”
Bo Chengyan’s interrogation was pointed, the brooch in his hand spinning idly between his fingers. Qi Jing had dozed off in the car on the way back, his chin nearly jabbing the thing.
Safer to remove it.
The living room fell utterly silent until—
“Watching videos.”
Bo Chengyan froze for a long beat. When he realized those words had come straight from Qi Jing’s mouth, he became convinced he needed to consult Lin Se about his health.
“What did you say?” His tone softened, laced with disbelief.
Qi Jing had always been diligent. 996 fed him batches of goldfinch literature, featuring bottoms of every stripe: the delicate, the domineering, the insecure, the white-cut-black…
It had left his eyes swimming. But as a boy from the mountains, he knew little of gay intimacy.
Text alone wasn’t cutting it.
So Qi Jing had gone searching online, expanding his knowledge.
“You… no, Little Jing.” At twenty-nine, Bo Chengyan prided himself on having weathered every flavor of life’s trials. Yet now he faltered, plunged into rare hesitation.
Even imagining he’d misheard didn’t seem so bad.
“The existence of both sexes forms the bedrock of society. Men are meant to marry, build families, cherish and care for their wives—not chase fringe cultures. That’s a side path, not the royal road.”
Bo Chengyan could scarcely believe the words tumbling from his own lips. He blinked in shock.
Qi Jing had been out of the mountains for two years now, wrapped in luxury. His mind had broadened immensely, yet his core remained that of simple, earnest curiosity.
“Mr. Bo, can’t a man be loved by another man?”
“…”
Just then, Auntie approached. “Sir, dinner is…”
Still in his timeout stance, the young man glanced her way and offered a soft, warm smile by way of greeting.
Bo Chengyan’s head throbbed. “You can head home for the evening.”
He felt like he should go see a doctor.
Bo Chengyan had only brought the kid back out of pity, but not even a day or two in the Capital City and already scandalous rumors were spreading far and wide. It was truly infuriating.
Later on, he’d simply kept the boy by his side. Using him as a shield proved remarkably effective.
But at some point, the kid had developed some wildly inappropriate thoughts.
At first, Bo Chengyan couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. Then he figured there was no need. It wasn’t until today—when he’d overheard some utterly absurd inner monologue—that he realized he’d been seriously negligent in raising the child.
“I’m not saying that…”
Qi Jing mulled it over for a moment before replying earnestly, “So that’s allowed, right?”
“Mr. Bo, can a woman be loved by another woman too?”
He was trying once more to expand his horizons.
Bo Chengyan: “…”
He truly had no idea what to say. But right then, he caught another snippet of the boy’s inner voice.
[He doesn’t like me. Is he going to kick me out… I’m not going to die, am I?]
Some garbled syllables broke up the words, like static from an old television set, making parts impossible to discern.
Bo Chengyan’s expression grew faintly cold as the question he’d meant to ask earlier resurfaced in his mind. The boy had left right after school.
Where had he gone?
Qi Jing felt utterly lost. Mr. Bo had never pushed him away before. Weren’t goldfinches supposed to be like this?
A goldfinch that failed to please its benefactor? Putting it together with all the examples he’d read in those books… didn’t that mean he’d be replaced?
The teenager’s heart pounded wildly. He was growing nervous.
Until—
“Tomorrow, you’re coming with me to the police station.”
“To get your household registration sorted.”
