Capital City was hit by a once-in-a-century downpour, which led to the complete cancellation of Qi Jing’s military training. The students even got a full week off, switching to online classes instead.
During dinner that evening, the young man glanced at the news.
The rain in Z Province seemed even worse. The city center was flooded up to the first floor, and some rural areas had houses washed away entirely.
Qi Jing cradled a bowl of fruit, frowning at the screen. Outside, the sky hung dark and heavy, the rain showing no signs of letting up.
“Little Jing, make sure you wear socks.”
Auntie reminded him gently. The young man responded immediately, setting down his fruit bowl before heading upstairs to fetch some.
But instead of going to his own bedroom, he made a beeline for the master bedroom.
He had no idea why Bo Chengyan wouldn’t let him go back to his own room anymore, but this place… it was so comfortable.
The bedding was incredibly soft.
Little by little, Qi Jing was getting a glimpse into the man’s daily life.
Boom!
Thunder crashed outside.
Qi Jing burrowed deeper into the covers, his socks pulled on all crooked. The lightning flashing bright and erratic across the sky made him feel uneasy.
He still wanted to call again.
But just then, his phone started vibrating.
Qi Jing snapped to attention and picked up right away.
“Fifteen more minutes.”
Bo Chengyan’s voice came through the line, low and steady, with the patter of rain audible in the background.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
“No.”
“Go eat.”
Qi Jing didn’t budge. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the rain, his toes curling slightly.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
Bo Chengyan’s tone remained mild. His fingers absently stroked something as he spoke—the foul weather doing little to sour his mood.
“I want to wait for you to come back and eat together.”
The voice on the other end sounded a bit muffled, the words simple and straightforward.
“Mm.”
“Don’t run the AC too low. It’s gotten really cold outside.”
“It’s not too low. I’m wearing socks.”
It was a straightforward exchange.
After hanging up—
“President Bo, the rain’s too heavy, and now traffic’s jammed up. We’re going to be delayed,” the driver said anxiously from the front seat.
Bo Chengyan didn’t respond to that. Instead, he asked, “Where’s your home?”
The driver blinked in surprise before answering, “Lakeside Gardens.”
Puddles had formed all along the road, the tires nearly half-submerged, and the rain showed no mercy.
In that moment, the pull of home felt stronger than ever.
“Take me to your place first. I’ll drive the rest of the way myself.”
The driver was stunned, at a loss for words, before stammering his thanks and veering toward another intersection.
~~~
Qi Jing lingered in the master bedroom for quite a while, wrapped in the blankets as he watched the rain outside. 996 had drifted back at some point, materializing like a ghost right in front of the young man.
【What’s this?】
Qi Jing wore a Peace Buckle around his neck, the black cord stark against his pale skin. 996 leaned in for a closer look.
“It’s probably for protection.”
“He put it on me.”
His slender fingers toyed with the round wooden ornament, curiosity lighting his eyes.
996 scanned and queried, its voice flat and mechanical: 【Peace Buckle: a peach wood ornament that wards off evil spirits…】
Qi Jing suddenly seemed to catch on, lifting his gaze toward it.
996 fell silent, its beady eyes blinking rapidly.
【I’m not some low-level ghost thing!】
996 fumed impotently, tempted to gnaw through the cord, but then it calmed and remembered something.
【Ghosts aren’t really anything to fear. They’re just spiritual entities visible under certain magnetic fields—essentially data streams.】
【In some ways, unstable people are far worse than unstable ghosts.】
996 seemed about to say more. 【The Bo Family Old Mansion once…】
The sound of a car engine rumbled outside the window.
Qi Jing bolted upright, slipping on his shoes in a rush that stirred the air. He hurried off with a quick, “He’s back.”
【…】
This wasn’t a good place to stick around.
Qi Jing was only in his pajamas at home. Spotting the man at the entryway, he dashed over and tilted his head up to look at him.
Bo Chengyan’s forehead was slightly damp. The usual air of aloof elitism had softened a bit. He removed his wristwatch and handed it to Auntie nearby.
“Appreciate it.”
His suit jacket was taken away too, leaving him in a crisp, dry shirt that hinted at the muscles beneath—broad and well-defined.
Qi Jing glanced back to make sure Auntie had walked off.
He took a few steps forward. “I…”
His lips were gently rubbed.
Qi Jing instinctively tilted his head back, but a hand cupped his nape, guiding him forward.
Just as his mouth parted…
Bo Chengyan scooped him up effortlessly and carried him upstairs without a second thought—even opting for the stairs.
[Why isn’t he kissing me?]
Qi Jing’s arms looped around his shoulders, his gaze fixed on the man’s throat, occasionally dipping to the open collar below.
An indescribable feeling stirred in him.
Back at the bedside.
Bo Chengyan ignored the stare completely, grabbing a wet wipe and carefully cleaning Qi Jing’s fingers, his eyes lowered in focus.
The rain continued to pound outside.
It drummed against the windows like a steady bass.
“What’s this?” Qi Jing asked, tracing the veins bulging slightly on the man’s forearm.
“Why aren’t mine this obvious?”
The difference in their builds could be dangerous at times—a throat could be easily crushed, leading to suffocation without warning.
But Qi Jing hadn’t developed any sense of caution.
His desires for closeness and dependence dominated instead.
He was an adult now, after all. Those around him had taught him to take things slow—even Ruan Heng had warned that such matters could be frightening.
But it wasn’t like that in the videos…
He thought it over and decided some things were best learned through experience.
Qi Jing said, “I want to kiss you.”
Bo Chengyan paused, drawing another fresh wet wipe to clean his own fingers.
“I want to kiss…”
Qi Jing’s legs were tugged apart, drawing him into a face-to-face straddle on the man’s lap.
His waist was securely held—safe, yet undeniably intimate.
“Mm. Why do you want to kiss today?”
The casual question masked something deeper, his restraint fraying bit by bit.
Just one sentence from Qi Jing, and he was already reacting. That wasn’t normal.
“I like you. I want to kiss you.”
“Can I?”
It was like child’s play, pure to the extreme—a sweet torment for the other man.
“You can.”
Qi Jing wrapped his arms around Bo Chengyan’s neck and pressed his lips forward, angling his head as he recalled their last kiss.
No tingles this time.
He pulled back.
Bo Chengyan was tense all over, dark desire swirling in his eyes. He heard himself ask, “Why stop?”
Qi Jing tried again, lips brushing over half of the man’s.
It lasted two or three seconds.
Then he gave up.
Qi Jing hadn’t noticed the hand on his waist growing feverish. He just found it odd—no spark like before.
“That’s not how I imagined it.”
“Then how does it count?”
Qi Jing mumbled glumly, “It felt good when you kissed me last time.”
Words like praise, indistinguishable from teasing.
Bo Chengyan pulled him closer by the waist, guiding him with lowered eyes. “That was a French kiss. You just pressed against me.”
Qi Jing’s face flushed. He pushed against the man’s shoulders, averting his gaze. “I know… I just don’t think I can do it right…”
You won’t do it, he said.
“Try.”
Qi Jing’s chin was tilted back into place, their eyes meeting. Panic flickered, nowhere to hide.
Bo Chengyan watched until the young man leaned in hesitantly, his tongue darting out like a tentative snake.
No reaction?
Why no reaction?
Disappointment welled as Qi Jing started to pull away—only for his nape to be pressed forward, his mouth pried open.
His neck arched up against the hold, fingers clutching the man’s shirt.
Tears beaded in his eyes.
It was an odd sensation—the roof of his mouth tickled by licks and suction, everything slick inside and out.
“Mm… nn…”
A hand roamed under his clothes. Qi Jing’s responses were raw and inexperienced; he squirmed instinctively to escape.
His lips glistened wetly.
The kiss shifted to his cheek.
“Hands… hands.”
His cheek was guided back, the hand on his nape drawing him into another deep kiss.
An unfamiliar thrill coursed through Qi Jing. He gripped the intruding arm—not pushing it away.
Clinging instead, like grasping an oar.
The skin below his collarbone flushed red under the touch.
As the hand began to withdraw, his lithe frame arched forward. “Nn…”
His lips were slick again.
Qi Jing looped his arms around Bo Chengyan’s neck, glancing down at the improper hand beneath his clothes.
“Rub it.”
His eyes were clear, lips swollen from kisses, his request earnest.
Motion stirred under his collar again.
“Hah…”
Qi Jing tilted his head back to look at the man. “More.”
Why was forbidden fruit forbidden?
Because it was addictive.
Kisses tumbled over one another amid the night’s rain, drawing out the lingering echoes.
Two hours later.
Qi Jing was exhausted. He’d been thoroughly spoiled—voicing every whim without hesitation, never letting worries linger.
Because someone always took it all on.
After being tended to, he was spent. He leaned against the man’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
His legs hooked around the waist, several buttons of Bo Chengyan’s shirt undone—bitten off.
There were a few new wet wipes and tissues in the trash can.
He simply wiped the other man down.
“Go sleep by yourself for a bit first.”
Qi Jing was set down on the blanket. The young man’s eyelids drooped heavily as his fingers hooked onto the other’s sleeve. He let out a meaningless little hum.
He tired easily.
But it felt very comfortable.
The rain hadn’t stopped yet. It pattered steadily.
Qi Jing sat up unsteadily. His knees bore red marks from the rubbing. He lifted a hand to cover his face and spotted the bathroom door.
He slipped on some slippers and walked over.
Bang bang bang!
He knocked on the door with great persistence.
Utterly unrestrained.
Bo Chengyan vaguely felt like the taut string in his heart was about to snap. He yanked a towel off the rack, his face as cold as frost. Frowning, he went to see who it was.
To be honest, he wasn’t a little kid anymore.
Qi Jing’s cheeks were flushed bright red. Almost on instinct, his gaze drifted downward—but his chin was suddenly pinched and tugged inward.
“Did I not serve you well?”
Qi Jing’s eyes shimmered with moisture. He had simply remembered a detail from the book and wanted to check it out. It was important to him.
[Is it hard yet…?]
“Mm.”
His nape was suddenly grabbed and pulled forward. The bathroom door slammed shut.
…
The rain in the Capital City gradually tapered off, but the downpour in Z Province raged on. It had escalated to the level of a natural disaster.
Rescue teams from the people’s armed forces had already been dispatched one after another.
By the time Bo Chengyan carried the man out of the bathroom, Qi Jing was already in a daze. As he bent down to place him on the bed, his phone buzzed.
“Little Jing, is that your message?”
Qi Jing grabbed his hand. “Reply for me…”
Bo Chengyan simply bent over to retrieve the thermometer from the drawer. He disinfected it, then pinched the cheeks of the man on the bed.
Gently, he pried open the teeth.
Just in case.
With his cheeks held in place, Qi Jing couldn’t let his thoughts wander astray. Sensing the other man hadn’t left, he drifted off to sleep, his fingers hooked around the other’s.
Bo Chengyan frowned and picked up the phone.
He wasn’t surprised to see the messages.
He swiped to scroll.
111: I sneaked down here, but I can’t buy a ticket. Can you help me out?
111: I have no idea what this sugar daddy is flipping out about.
111: I owe you another chunk of money…
There were scattered messages like these.
They stretched all the way to today.
Hates Broccoli: Z Province is getting hammered by rain. Did you make it there safely?
111: I’m okay. Almost missed my connection though—the flooding here’s insane, water up to mid-calf.
111: [Picture]
Hates Broccoli: Be careful. Go check on your family quick.
Hates Broccoli: Text me when you get home.
Four hours had passed.
No reply.
Until just now.
111: Qi Jing, turns out my grandma died ages ago. She’s been buried for half a year already.
