“I heard you went and cornered Nie Luo?”
Smoke curled around them. Leaning against the broad chest behind him, Zhuo Yuan’s fingers traced slowly over the man’s blind eye.
His soft, almost feminine voice carried a faint hiss, like a snake’s tongue, seeming ready to lick Jing Yuan’s face at any moment.
Zhuo Yuan had someone follow him?
Jing Yuan jerked his head up sharply.
Slap!
A whip of a hand hit his face hard.
“You still haven’t learned, have you?”
Zhuo Yuan, catching his breath while feeling the force from behind, kept a stern expression.
“Dare to lift your head in front of me?”
Jing Yuan immediately lowered his head, biting his lip inwardly. “Yes, I was wrong, Zhuren.”
Did Zhuo Yuan think he wanted to look up?
That disgusting posture, and Zhuo Yuan’s revolting body—he wasn’t a man who liked men!
“Spill it. Did this happen or not?”
Zhuo Yuan exhaled coldly, his tone slightly urgent.
“…Yes.”
Jing Yuan hesitated for a second, then admitted it decisively.
He didn’t know how Zhuo Yuan had found out, but since he did, lying was meaningless.
Jing Yuan lowered his head slightly, hiding all the thoughts in his eyes.
“Alright, tell me.”
A finger pressed lightly on the blind eye, then finally, unable to resist, grabbed hold. Zhuo Yuan’s face immediately broke into a satisfied smile.
“…You went to see Nie Luo… You weren’t trying to… offer him to me, hm—!”
The finger gripping him suddenly hurt. Zhuo Yuan felt the blind eye’s unexpected force; his own finger throbbed sharply.
After a moment, he irritably shook off the hand that had restrained him.
“What’s wrong with you today? Go and accept your punishment later.”
“Yes.”
The strong man obeyed as always, as if nothing had happened moments ago.
Jing Yuan almost felt nauseous, but dared not let Zhuo Yuan notice.
Zhuo Yuan, however, assumed he wanted Nie Luo to give himself to him?
A bold thought flashed in Jing Yuan’s mind.
Hmm… that doesn’t seem impossible.
Those fans were extremely useful.
Although Nie Luo had escaped several times before, this time it finally proved something.
Recalling the moment he opened the bathroom door, Jing Yuan vaguely remembered hearing Nie Luo’s muffled groan.
Then Nie Luo’s seemingly expressionless face.
Did he think he could deceive me like that?
Jing Yuan secretly mocked him.
That flushed face, the cold sweat all over…
If nothing had happened, why would Nie Luo have looked that way in the bathroom?
Since they had indeed accomplished it, that meant…
A slow thrill rose in Jing Yuan’s chest.
He could still use this, continue to act on Nie Luo.
If Nie Luo fell into Zhuo Yuan’s hands…
The thought of how Nie Luo might be treated in the future made Jing Yuan excited.
He crawled on the ground, his tone humble but full of calculation.
“Of course, to offer him to you, it has to be the best. I think Nie Luo is the best.”
“Is that so?”
Crossing his legs elegantly, Zhuo Yuan lifted his chin, seemingly indifferent to his own messy state.
“Since you said so, I’m looking forward to it.”
He paused. His hiss now carried a poisonous edge.
“You should know what happens if you ruin my fun, right?”
“Yes, I know.”
At the hospital.
Because of his injury, Nie Luo’s workload had temporarily eased.
The injury wasn’t too severe, but since it involved a crucial area, it couldn’t be treated casually.
“Discharge?”
Fan Qing didn’t even look up as he refused.
“Stay for another two days.”
The room fell silent again.
After finishing a file, Fan Qing noticed something strange—Nie Luo wasn’t speaking.
He looked up.
Nie Luo had gotten off the bed and was making a call on the small balcony.
Fan Qing raised an eyebrow.
Closing his laptop, he walked over to the balcony door.
Nie Luo seemed to have just finished his call and turned, meeting Fan Qing’s faintly amused expression.
Nie Luo: …
Why did he suddenly feel like he’d been caught?
Returning to the bed under Fan Qing’s watch, Nie Luo looked at him, hesitating to speak.
“Do you want to say something?”
Fan Qing glanced over the files on his laptop—there was a new talent show to monitor—while asking.
“If it’s about discharge, no.”
Nie Luo said nothing.
The room fell silent again, with only the sound of Fan Qing typing on the laptop.
About ten minutes later, Fan Qing couldn’t help but look up—Nie Luo still wasn’t mentioning it…
He met Nie Luo’s focused gaze and was slightly taken aback.
Nie Luo noticed too, his eyes softening significantly at the corners.
Fan Qing couldn’t resist.
Without closing his laptop, he stepped closer to Nie Luo.
“Were you just watching me?”
“Mm.”
Nie Luo remained calm as always.
Fan Qing was quietly delighted by Nie Luo’s calmness, his heart fluttering with a small, uncontrollable joy.
He rested his fingers lightly on the back of Nie Luo’s hand, voice brimming with barely contained happiness.
“Have you been watching me for a long time?”
He had indeed sensed the gaze early on, though at the time he thought it was just his imagination.
Nie Luo blinked, slightly startled.
“Not really long,” he replied, unsure.
Seeing Nie Luo recalling carefully, Fan Qing chuckled softly.
“You were staring at me, weren’t you? How long do you think you were watching?”
“Didn’t notice,” Nie Luo said casually. Then, after a pause, he added, “You look good when you work.”
Those words…
Fan Qing couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
He caught Nie Luo’s fingers and pressed a quick kiss to the tips.
“You mean, you were mesmerized because you think I look good?”
There could be no simpler, more straightforward expression of affection.
Nie Luo’s sweetness was exactly what he had expected.
Nie Luo looked at him.
“You really do look good.”
He wasn’t lying.
When Fan Qing focused, his brows would furrow slightly, his eyes cold like his own, but his lips always carried a faint, teasing smile.
Nie Luo’s hand instinctively brushed his mouth.
“Fan Qing also looks good,” he murmured.
Fan Qing leaned closer, pressing kisses to both Nie Luo’s fingers and the corner of his lips.
“In my heart, Fan Qing, you are the most handsome.”
Nie Luo didn’t speak, only wrapped his hand around the back of Fan Qing’s neck and returned the kiss.
Fan Qing’s work was constant; he couldn’t always watch Nie Luo.
Nie Luo, noticing, brought up the topic of discharge again.
“Are you really ready to leave?”
Fan Qing knew Nie Luo’s urgency but the injury was at a critical spot, so he had to take it seriously.
Nie Luo nodded, repeating, “The doctor says it’s healed.”
He paused, worried that Fan Qing might not agree, and added, “Actually, it was fine yesterday, but I didn’t want you to worry.”
In other words, he had already considered Fan Qing’s feelings.
Fan Qing understood.
It seemed truly healed.
After all, Nie Luo had never lied to him.
Yet…
A strange glint flickered in Fan Qing’s eyes.
“Really healed?”
He didn’t quite believe it.
Fan Qing slowly approached the bed, leaning close to Nie Luo’s face, as if confirming he wasn’t lying.
Nie Luo didn’t shy away, letting him stare.
The next second, Fan Qing’s lips pressed against his.
“I need to… examine.”
Examine? Examine what?
Nie Luo barely had time to process before his thin lips were pressed painfully—the kiss was sharp, insistent. Fan Qing’s tongue invaded, sweeping across Nie Luo’s palate with fierce precision, marking the territory like a predator asserting dominance.
It was a male-to-male possessive kiss.
Nie Luo, fully conscious, allowed it, his warm hands resting gently on Fan Qing’s waist, fingertips tracing along his firm back again and again, each motion expressing indulgence and surrender.
Fan Qing, tasting Nie Luo, slowly calmed, pulling back just enough.
He extracted his tongue from Nie Luo’s mouth, the thin silver threads brushing against Nie Luo’s lips in a teasing survey before retracting.
Nie Luo could hardly resist and lightly tapped him.
“Enough?”
Was Fan Qing satisfied now? Could he finally be discharged?
“Fan Qing…”
Fan Qing only let out a low, playful laugh.
“That was just a kiss.”
He paused, his smile turning sultry and sweet.
“Just a boyfriend’s kiss. That’s all.”
His crimson tongue traced along Nie Luo’s lips, his voice lowering.
“The examination… starts now.”
What?
Nie Luo’s fingers clutched at his hair, but it was too late.
A beast marking its territory—with saliva, teeth, and dominance.
Jin Yi had rushed to bring flowers upon hearing Nie Luo was to be discharged.
Upon arriving, he froze.
The hospital room was empty except for Fan Qing.
He looked around, bewildered.
“Fan Qing, where’s old Nie? Weren’t they supposed to be discharged?”
“Hm?”
Fan Qing turned, raising a brow, continuing his actions.
“Second Young Master seeing ghosts? This is a hospital, you know.”
It certainly felt like it!
Jin Yi gripped his bouquet tightly, unnerved.
“Then… when Nie Luo left, you must have been there, right?”
“Mhm.”
Fan Qing found the perfect angle and nodded in satisfaction.
Click, click, click, click.
The camera shutter clicked repeatedly.
…Damn.
Jin Yi watched Fan Qing’s frenzied photography, a chill running down his spine.
He didn’t understand exactly what was happening, but the fox-like, almost predatory satisfaction on Fan Qing’s face earlier—and now, photographing an ordinary hospital bed with such fervor—made his skin crawl.
“Stay back!
I need to stay back myself!”
Jin Yi slowly took a step back, placing the flowers on the ground.
“Anyway… I have another appointment. Since he’s not here, it’s the same if you take them for me. I’ll head off first!”
With that, he practically vanished in an instant.
“The same?”
Fan Qing glanced at the smudge captured in the camera, nodded in satisfaction, and finally turned around.
This Second Young Master really could be sharp at times.
But… how could it be the “same”?
Fan Qing inhaled lightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Indeed, the lingering scent in the room was pleasantly intoxicating.