The drugs for suppressing sexual desire were still effective, as were the side effects of various mind-control substances.
Bo Chengyan drained the glass of water in his study. His eyes were dark and sunken, and the knuckles protruding from his fingers bore faint red marks.
The young man had asked about the injury while they were in bed, but he had received no real answer—just a brush-off.
After all, he still wanted to maintain a positive image in the boy’s eyes.
Scenes of brutality and bloodshed were hardly conducive to a teenager’s healthy growth.
Whenever Bo Chengyan resorted to violence, he made sure Qi Jing was nowhere nearby. That literary type at the clubhouse had been no exception…
His jaw had been dislocated.
Bo Chengyan could cover the medical bills. He could offer the Jiang Family a project collaboration deal.
And that would be the end of it.
It was hardly an ethical approach by society’s standards.
But once a person had a weakness…
It was all too easy to lose control.
What was worse, though…
Bo Chengyan’s fingers brushed the glass lightly. A cool glint shone in his downcast eyes as his Adam’s apple bobbed.
He didn’t find the feeling unpleasant at all.
~~~
The next day, Qi Jing still couldn’t get out of bed. His legs were unsteady, and he was scooped up after only a few steps on the carpet.
He felt thoroughly depressed.
The boy’s knowledge of sex came entirely from porn sites, so he took the positions and durations there as the standard for normal people.
He believed it without question.
Bo Chengyan had merely lasted a bit longer than those videos, and… the reference materials from the 996 books indicated that it usually wasn’t just once.
That was still pretty normal, right?
Qi Jing sat on the edge of the bed, frowning in mild confusion. The people in those sites… didn’t they feel anything afterward?
The scenarios in the reference books didn’t dwell much on the aftermath either.
So why couldn’t he walk?
Was he just too weak?
Qi Jing brought it up, tilting his head back slightly. His loose sleepshirt collar revealed a dense field of red marks underneath, and his eyelids were a touch swollen.
“Rest for a day, and you’ll be fine.”
“But I’ve already slept for a full day and night.”
When Bo Chengyan picked him up, Qi Jing naturally looped his arms around the man’s shoulders, his tone utterly serious.
Though he was an adult now, there was so much he didn’t know.
Comprehensive sex education was lacking domestically—even how to use a condom had been taught to him hands-on by Bo Chengyan.
At first, Qi Jing had even thought they weren’t necessary.
He had never seen them in the videos.
“We’ll work on building up your stamina later.”
“Okay.”
The topic was tabled for the moment.
Qi Jing leaned against the man’s shoulder, his eyes clear and refreshed. He had finally gotten enough sleep.
Breakfast was lavish: simple milk and boiled eggs alongside steaming trays of little steamed buns filled with Cantonese dim sum delights.
Qi Jing sat in a chair with a soft cushion underneath him, so he didn’t feel too uncomfortable. He ate steadily on his own.
It felt just like two years ago.
Back when he had first arrived at Brocade River Villas, he could hardly remember the journey there. He only knew that Bo Chengyan would visit once a week.
They would eat together.
He didn’t say much, mostly asking Auntie directly.
It was as if Bo Chengyan were just checking on his growth.
Qi Jing bit down on his chopsticks, recalling how intimidated he had felt back then. Just at that moment—
“We’ll weigh you later.”
“Huh?”
His voice came out utterly bewildered.
~~~
Qi Jing actually resisted going into the study.
He even grabbed the doorframe on the way in, but his fingers were pried off one by one.
“Don’t scratch things.”
The tone was grave.
Bo Chengyan set Qi Jing down on the desk, his hand cushioning the boy’s thighs. Qi Jing’s face flushed deep red as he pushed against the man’s shoulder.
He had recited some so-called “rules” here in the past.
—No early romances.
—No picking up hip-hop culture…
—If anything upset him at school, he had to come home and talk about it, or Bo Chengyan would go ask the teachers himself.
A whole list of them.
“I’m grown up now.”
“Mm.”
The tone was gentle.
Qi Jing said earnestly, “So we don’t need to weigh me on schedule anymore. I’ve finished growing.”
He made it sound like he was some kind of “completed product.”
But it did no good. Bo Chengyan scooped him up by the waist with one arm and deposited him on the scale. Qi Jing’s protests died unspoken.
As if he were afraid to let the air escape his lips.
Qi Jing figured there was some significance to the number, at least.
His current weight was—
59.5 kg.
Qi Jing rounded it up immediately. “I’ve got sixty kilos. Not… not that skinny.”
“Do you know your height?”
Bo Chengyan sometimes wondered why pubescent kids only seemed to grow taller. Qi Jing was still slender-framed like back in middle school.
Just taller now.
The boy missed the implication in the question.
As Bo Chengyan carried him back to the desk, Qi Jing said proudly, “I’m one-eighty now.”
He seemed almost pleased with himself.
Tall kids were always something parents praised.
Qi Jing often heard classmates’ parents chatting at the school gates: the kid had shot up, the kid was too skinny, did your child take calcium supplements…
It was all so fascinating.
He would linger by the driver’s car, eavesdropping a bit.
Then he would look forward to Fridays, when Bo Chengyan would come have dinner with him—and probably check if he had grown any taller.
Such a pure kind of affection.
“Auntie will be thrilled.”
The tone was mild.
Qi Jing frowned and asked, “And you?”
That simple question made Bo Chengyan realize the truth: the person in his arms had always been confused about their dynamic.
Qi Jing couldn’t quite sort it out.
He saw Bo Chengyan as something like a parent figure.
“I’m happy too.”
Qi Jing’s mood lifted a little. But as he was carried away, some puzzlement lingered. Among girls, he seemed quite tall, but next to Bo Chengyan…
He still felt so small.
Bo Chengyan could still grip his calf in one hand, just as always.
Qi Jing was carried back to the bedside. The bedroom was bright, and with the New Year approaching, it was rather chilly outside.
“Bo Chengyan.”
“How tall are you?”
His tone was blunt, and calling the name felt perfectly natural.
Bo Chengyan held Qi Jing’s wrist, inspecting his fingers. He had scratched at the doorframe earlier and was checking if any nails had split.
Perhaps it was some conditioned reflex.
Calling the name in bed led to psychological carryover even in daylight.
Pavlov’s dog.
There was something to the theory, at least.
Bo Chengyan lowered his eyelids slightly and replied calmly, “Haven’t measured in ages. Can’t remember.”
Qi Jing reached out for a hug and climbed aboard naturally. Bo Chengyan tugged his leg lightly, settling Qi Jing’s forearm right under his thigh.
“I have a classmate who’s pretty tall too…”
Bo Chengyan’s brow furrowed faintly, a touch displeased.
It felt like sharing.
“But I don’t think he’s as tall as you.”
“Mm.”
The earliest public info on Bo Chengyan’s physical stats dated back five years, pegged at exactly 1.8 meters—probably for relatability. The Chief Assistant had come up with the option.
The head of Ling Yue didn’t need striking looks or a superior physique. He needed an iron fist and real capability.
He had done interviews early on, but they were mostly scrubbed now. Macau even had some tabloid headlines floating around.
Qi Jing insisted earnestly, “Go on, measure it. Measure.”
Snowflakes drifted outside.
Bo Chengyan shifted arms, bearing Qi Jing’s weight on one like an infant carry.
He really shouldn’t have agreed to measure.
Qi Jing discovered he had somehow shrunk a centimeter. He was only 179 cm now.
He was utterly baffled.
Bo Chengyan, by contrast… was genuinely tall. His bare height came in at a solid 189 cm or so.
A giant.
Qi Jing sat depressed at his desk, baffled. In the end, he glanced at his own wrist again.
So slender.
He really ought to hit the gym.
After sulking for a bit, the boy pulled out a measuring tape to check his shoulder width.
Bo Chengyan watched indulgently from above. It was just heavy curiosity.
Shoulder width: 58 cm.
Middle finger length: 10 cm.
Why were people so different…
Qi Jing stared at the man’s knuckles in a daze. The gap was huge. He had always known there was a size difference.
But…
“Not measuring your girth?”
The man prompted mildly.
It took one or two seconds to register.
Jumbled memory fragments surged in: ragged gasps, indistinct chaos, overwhelming sensory overload…
Unforgettable.
Qi Jing flushed crimson in an instant. He shoved the hand away and turned his head aside.
“No,” he mumbled sullenly.
~~~
Many couples in the early stages of a relationship entered a honeymoon phase, brimming with curiosity about every facet of their partner.
Qi Jing’s case was a bit unusual. He got curious now and then, but mostly he just did his own thing.
Childlike at heart.
Bo Chengyan had always known it: he was the one with the fierce possessiveness. Ever since bringing Qi Jing home, the boy had lived in utter security.
It was hard for possessiveness to take root in him.
Most of the time, he only thought to ask when something occurred to him.
Like the faint perfume scent on a collar…
Nitpicky details.
Perhaps his sense of security had always been rock-solid. Realizing it later only made it harder to coax him.
But that was fine.
Bo Chengyan simply disliked how lunchtime calls with Qi Jing still required reminders from Auntie.
The boy wasn’t invested.
As New Year’s Eve drew near, when Bo Chengyan learned that the young man wanted to share his location, he even felt a subtle sense of satisfaction.
“Want mine?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Qi Jing thought for a moment, then wrapped his arms around the other’s neck and said earnestly, “This way… you’ll be safe too.”
The logic was simple.
From the moment location sharing had been introduced into Qi Jing’s life, it had been presented as a safety tool.
He felt no aversion to it whatsoever and accepted it quite happily.
He didn’t find it the least bit intrusive.
Bo Chengyan gently rubbed the knuckle of the ring finger on the person in his arms and asked softly, “Did you think of this yourself?”
Qi Jing paused for a second, then replied without a hint of blush or hesitation, “Mm-hmm.”
For someone with such an abnormally intense possessiveness, there was no better gift than this.
He was willing.
He accepted it.
Location sharing was safe.
“Of course.”
“I’ll have someone take care of it tomorrow.”
Qi Jing nodded, figuring this must be the “fairness” that 996 had mentioned. He was quite satisfied.
They had reached harmonious agreement once again.
However, when it came to that smart wristband, Qi Jing hadn’t been too keen at first. He thought monitoring wasn’t a good idea, so he’d said as much. But Bo Chengyan had only asked:
“Then monitor me too? Would that be okay?”
The young man was nearly stunned.
“Just kidding.”
Qi Jing’s wrist was drawn over, and a new smart wristband was fastened around it—the serial number was different. Bo Chengyan lowered his gaze and explained:
“This one doesn’t have camera or listening functions, but its measurements for heart rate and body temperature are more reasonable. It’s dynamic, takes averages, and won’t suddenly set off alarms.”
“Can you accept it?”
From start to finish, it had all been questions.
Bo Chengyan held him close, his eyes beneath his brow bone dark and inscrutable, eagerly awaiting the answer from the one in his arms.
“Yes.”
Nothing could have been more gratifying.
~~~
Lin Se had actually prescribed some medication a few weeks earlier—mostly for standard anxiety and delusions.
In truth, such abnormal possessiveness could be directly linked to a profound lack of security.
Bo Chengyan had everything, truly, but he was emotionally distant from family and friends, gradually veering toward extremes.
Nothingness. An empty void.
That trip to Great Cool Mountain two years ago had perhaps been a form of self-rescue.
Yet the young man still found it miraculous. Back then… Bo Chengyan hadn’t seemed to plan on attending the disaster relief efforts at all; it felt like a spur-of-the-moment decision.
Was there some divine will at play?
Sometimes, one simply had to acknowledge this reality.
But—
Why hadn’t he come to pick up his medication?
Lin Se decided to show some benevolence and deliver the medicine himself—really, to check on the situation.
At the very least, things needed to stabilize.
But when he actually arrived at Brocade River Villas, he felt a touch of nervousness. After all, it was the New Year holidays; would a sudden visit be impolite?
No matter how impolite, skipping the medication wasn’t an option.
The young man harbored real concerns.
Qi Jing was still so young, after all.
Just then, the door to the villa swung open.
