Chapter 41

The hotel suite was spacious, but Qi Jing had always slept in the master bedroom. After thinking it over, he realized that several days had already passed.

It should be fine to share a bed by now.

When Bo Chengyan emerged from the bathroom, he found the young man staring at him unblinkingly, his expression utterly innocent.

He couldn’t help recalling the earlier years, when strangers would show up in his room—often half-naked.

Some had even been dosed with potent aphrodisiacs.

Truth be told, the sight of someone surrendering to base desires was nothing but a slide into irrationality, an ugly spectacle.

Each time Bo Chengyan stumbled upon such a scene, it dragged him back to his youth, bursting into a hotel room to catch his father mid-affair.

It turned his stomach.

There were always men who flaunted their sexual conquests like war trophies, tallying up their partners as if it proved their worth.

It was pervasive, from the elite circles down to the streets—a banal rot.

Beneath those sharp suits lurked decayed bodies and souls.

Bo Chengyan harbored no such appetites himself. He only felt revulsion, baffled at how men—differing from women by a single Y chromosome—strayed so perilously close to brutish savagery.

He wanted nothing to do with marriage or romance.

Until Qi Jing.

“Finished your shower?”

The boy tilted his head up, chin lifted just a touch, uttering something perfectly pointless.

Like a small animal, he scooted toward the center of the bed and patted the empty space beside him. “Bo Chengyan, it’s been days now. Does this count as taking it slow?”

“Will you sleep with me?”

Qi Jing rarely called him “sir” anymore, opting instead to use his full name—a touch that struck Bo Chengyan as endearingly cute.

At least, that’s how it seemed to him.

“Okay?”

“I don’t just want to hold hands.”

“I promise I won’t do anything.”

The boy had no real grasp that “taking it slow” served him best, reining in the older man instead. Qi Jing followed his heart without restraint, whims guiding his every move.

“Who taught you that?”

Qi Jing’s neck was drawn forward with a grip that was firm yet measured—enough to hold him in place without discomfort, leaving him only mildly dazed.

“You did.”

The night stretched endlessly.

~~~

The next day.

Qi Jing slept soundly, lost in a dream of rowing that left him both weary and strangely content.

His chin nudged against a shoulder, rousing him just enough to stir.

“Awake?”

Bo Chengyan’s morning voice carried a subtle huskiness. He must have showered already, a faint woody cologne clinging to his skin.

The boy in his arms instinctively pressed closer.

Lips grazing his Adam’s apple.

Then, in naive oblivion, he drifted back to sleep.

A scent that pleased Bo Chengyan deeply.

His gaze dipped low, veins standing out faintly along his forearms. But he simply scooped Qi Jing up and carried him to the bathroom.

“Mmm… too early…”

Qi Jing perched on the bathroom counter, propped naturally against the man before him, showing no hint of unease.

He was growing trickier to manage by the day.

He couldn’t sit upright on his own, slumping into Bo Chengyan’s hold with his cheek buried against the man’s shoulder.

Still dozing.

As he matured, he mastered the art of wrapping people around his finger.

Such delicacy wasn’t built in a day.

Even with his eyes shut, he felt his chin pinched upward—until his mouth was gently pried open and something intruded.

“Mmm…”

The corners of his eyes flushed red in an instant. Recognizing the cleaning finger cot, Qi Jing snapped fully awake.

His ears burned scarlet.

He shoved at Bo Chengyan’s shoulder.

“I’ll do it myself.”

“Go away.”

Bo Chengyan paid him no mind, tossing the finger cot aside with one hand while turning on the faucet to rinse.

Knuckles prominent, fingers long and straight.

Cold water only, turning the joints faintly pink.

Qi Jing pouted. “My mouth’s clean. Why bother washing it…”

He didn’t finish.

His head tipped back a fraction, overwhelmed. Fingers clenched the front of Bo Chengyan’s shirt—cold… so cold.

His tongue was teased this way and that, as if plumbing the depths of his mouth or inspecting whether his teeth had grown in properly.

“Mm… ha…”

Even Qi Jing caught on; he’d glimpsed it in videos before. The arch of his foot tensed.

Then he bit down.

Eyes reddening.

With force.

“Little Jing’s going to bite it clean off,” Bo Chengyan remarked idly, his gaze lowered.

He spat it out.

Qi Jing mulled it over and decided it wasn’t fair. Those videos made it look terrifying; everyone said it hurt.

…

Mouth agape, the boy lunged for Bo Chengyan’s throat—but his teeth had barely grazed skin when a low, muffled voice intervened.

“Baby, pick somewhere else.”

“I have to meet people.”

The words came out flat, as if discussing the weather.

Qi Jing complied, shifting to the neck and biting in earnest until a thin blood mark welled up. Only then was he content.

Getting run through in bed sounded horrifying.

Fair was fair.

Make it hurt.

“Satisfied?”

“Mm-hm.”

The rains in Z Province came in fits and starts, this natural disaster dragging on for a full week of downpours. Bo Chengyan already had Foundation projects and ceremonies lined up; to outsiders, nothing seemed amiss.

He simply hadn’t anticipated the culprit hailing from a collateral branch of the Bo Family.

Overreaching idiots.

Qi Jing slipped on a raincoat in the car, peering curiously out the window. “What can I do to help?”

The site was a relief camp, white tents pitched inside a vast factory warehouse.

Rural areas had borne the brunt: dilapidated homes collapsed outright, sturdier ones swamped by floodwaters. Bacterial outbreaks aside, even basic rest was impossible.

The government needed shelters. Villages lay far from cities, but sprawling farmlands had long been leased to factories—warehouses now repurposed ideally.

“You can soothe the kids or help hand out supplies.”

Bo Chengyan had to head to the government reception office about three kilometers away to discuss reconstruction plans.

Tucking a growing teenager away in the hotel would only leave him sulking.

“I can handle it.”

“Mm.”

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment.

Perhaps a parting kiss.

Bo Chengyan watched the boy lean in, a faint tingle prickling his palm.

“My phone… mm.”

Qi Jing surged forward to snatch it, then hopped out spryly, nimble as a young deer.

“Go on!”

No hesitation.

No kiss.

Bo Chengyan’s brows knit faintly, but then it dawned on him—he hadn’t taught him that yet.

That had to be it.

~~~

Jiang Xiuyuan stood at the factory entrance in his raincoat, lips pressing thin as he watched the boy wave goodbye.

This was Ling Yue’s sponsored outpost; every staffer belonged to Ling Yue’s Foundation, right down to the tents emblazoned with his emblem.

Utterly secure.

Qi Jing would enjoy the utmost freedom and safety here.

“Jiang Xiuyuan!”

Qi Jing whipped around, breaking into a delighted jog. “You’re here too!”

“Yeah, the village nearby is my hometown.”

“Thanks to President Bo, we’ve resettled a lot of folks.”

Polite adult banter.

The boy missed the subtext entirely, just beaming up at him. “You look great today.”

Jiang Xiuyuan faltered, his detached haze shattering as reality intruded. His gaze turned awkward. “No, I don’t.”

He’d grown accustomed to caking on makeup for the nightlife circuit. Since falling ill, he hadn’t glanced in a mirror—had to be hideous now.

Skin ghostly pale.

High school had been the same, a whirlwind of toxic emotions.

Bare-faced… he’d been cornered in the bathroom, jeered at.

Far from attractive.

Definitely repulsive.

“Really!”

The boy’s voice rang out bright and clear.

Qi Jing tugged his hand along; Jiang Xiuyuan’s mind went blank. Dark thoughts flickered even then.

What do you want?

To mock me?

They reached the bathroom area, where a fire hydrant cabinet’s door gleamed like a mirror.

It reflected two young men.

One shadowed and brooding, the other chatting with his head cocked.

“I kept thinking yesterday that I’d gotten too skinny, not looking good. But beauty standards aren’t one-size-fits-all.”

Qi Jing paused thoughtfully. “Look in the mirror—you’re handsome.”

Jiang Xiuyuan lifted his eyes, locking onto his reflection. Harsh angles, lips drawn taut. Was this really him…

“Sorry.”

Qi Jing blinked. Why?

“I was jealous of you again. Darkly.”

Handing out supplies in the factory was straightforward; breakfast had wrapped up, leaving lunch next.

Instant noodles, canned sausages, tea eggs.

Classic emergency rations.

Qi Jing threw himself into the task with focus. After about half an hour, they caught a breather, chatting by the entrance.

“How’s your family doing? The bad ones, I mean.”

Jiang Xiuyuan chuckled; the boy hadn’t picked up a single curse word. Leaning against the doorframe, he replied softly:

“Chen Zhuo helped me get my money back. Their house is mortgaged—they can’t keep up payments without my ongoing support.”

“They’ll hit the defaulters’ list soon enough.”

Qi Jing cut straight to it. “Then he did one good thing.”

His tone bristled with outrage.

The young man blinked in surprise. “Chen Zhuo? I owe him thanks. I never could’ve gotten it back alone.”

“I can’t repay that debt.”

Qi Jing rejected the notion outright. “He screwed you over first. This one favor doesn’t erase it—why repay anything?”

“He kept me. I tried to run away several times, but it was me who broke the contract. It doesn’t seem like he did anything wrong to me.”

The young man spoke in a flat tone, lifting his eyes to the weather outside. It was still overcast and gloomy.

“I saw the marks on your arm.”

Jiang Xiuyuan frowned at that, instinctively tugging at his sleeve. Qi Jing was still very young.

He didn’t understand all that messy stuff.

“He abused you.”

“…”

Qi Jing had his own firm ideas. “I’m not clueless. Nowadays, society is all about equality. Bo Chengyan told me that those kinds of keeping arrangements are usually cooked up by people who are already married, just to protect their own interests.”

“Legally, they only protect that side. It’s unequal from the start.”

Jiang Xiuyuan couldn’t help but zone out. Just half a year ago, the person in front of him had been innocently asking what to do if someone wanted to keep him.

He was being kept well.

He could tell right from wrong.

“But Chen Zhuo is…”

Qi Jing said earnestly, “I know. Isn’t a single guy keeping someone just another way of saying ‘friends with benefits’?”

“Those agreements still dangle some perks, but they completely trample on basic human rights.”

“They’re unequal. They won’t hold up in court.”

Jiang Xiuyuan stared blankly, a spark lighting up in his eyes. He asked softly, “Really?”

They didn’t count?

After all this torment from him, could he finally be free?

Qi Jing stated firmly, “Of course.”

But right then, a cold male voice suddenly came from behind him.

“Of course not.”