All night, Pei Qingjian’s emotions had been complicated, whereas Lan Xingchen’s were much simpler. He just felt that he truly deserved to die, waking in the middle of the night, unable to resist slapping his own face while berating himself: I really deserve to die.
The next morning, Pei Qingjian woke up early.
He looked at the glittering, ornate crystal chandelier overhead and, a bit belatedly, remembered that he had already transmigrated into the book—becoming the cannon-fodder Pei Qingjian. Wait… suddenly, he recalled something and quickly threw off the covers, hopping out of bed.
He ran to the bathroom, glancing at his precious little friend.
“Pengpeng, stand up!”
“Pengpeng, fly!”
“Pengpeng, it’s time to show your true strength!”
No matter how Pei Qingjian called, his precious little friend remained completely motionless, like he was dead.
Pei Qingjian: QAQ
When would this medicine wear off?!
When would he finally be normal again?!
Pei Qingjian felt like crying, helplessly washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and washed his face.
By the time Lan Xingchen woke from his own guilt-ridden dream, the person beside him was already gone.
Where had he gone?
He looked at the spot where Pei Qingjian had slept, then at the bathrobe he had changed out of. Wait… he left?
Of course. After being discovered in such a compromising situation, any young man would feel embarrassed. He wouldn’t know how to face him.
Sigh. Lan Xingchen mentally berated himself for the millionth time: I truly deserve to die!
Why did I have to show off my skills last night? Now I’ve caused a problem!
Pei Qingjian was already sensitive; and since they were in a “patron and kept man” relationship, his sensitivity was doubled. If Pei Qingjian had snapped…
Lan Xingchen could almost see the headlines: [Flower-aged boy dies in tears—fate’s misfortune or human cruelty? Hesitation in life, serenity in death, with a sinister hand behind it all!]
He hurriedly picked up his phone, worried he might be responsible for Pei Qingjian’s death without meaning to.
Just as he was about to call, he heard the door open—and Pei Qingjian walked in the next second.
Lan Xingchen: ???
“You didn’t leave?”
Pei Qingjian looked puzzled. Why would he leave? Didn’t Lan Xingchen say last night that today he’d accompany him home to get some things?
The contract stated clearly: from today onward, he was to live together with Lan Xingchen.
“You said you’d accompany me home to get my things today,” Pei Qingjian replied.
Lan Xingchen breathed a sigh of relief. Good. His current mental state seemed stable.
“Yes, yes,” Lan Xingchen hurried to agree. “I’ll accompany you home shortly.”
Pei Qingjian nodded. “Since you’re awake, get up and eat breakfast.”
Lan Xingchen: ???
“You bought breakfast?”
“I made it,” Pei Qingjian said gently. “I originally wanted to check if your kitchen stuff was usable, but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you, so I used it directly.”
He added, “It should be fine, right? If we’re going to live together, the kitchen can’t just be for show.”
Lan Xingchen was truly surprised—he actually knew how to cook.
What a noble gesture!
After what had happened last night!
After being caught in such an embarrassing situation!
And yet, he still got up early to make breakfast for him!
I really deserve to die! Lan Xingchen reflected again. Am I even human?!
How could I have done such a thing?!
I am utterly shameful!
“You can use it,” Lan Xingchen said kindly. “Everything in this house, you can use.”
Pei Qingjian nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”
Lan Xingchen felt like he’d been blinded by the light of righteousness.
He actually said thank you!
To me!
What have I done to deserve this?!
I truly deserve to die!
Lan Xingchen got out of bed, chastising himself, and walked toward the bathroom.
After finishing his morning routine, he followed Pei Qingjian into the dining room. Looking at the porridge and fried eggs on the table, the “I really deserve to die” feeling intensified.
Pei Qingjian looked slightly embarrassed. “It’s a little light. I wanted to steam some buns too, but I was afraid the sound of chopping the filling would wake you, so I didn’t. I’ll steam some later when we come back.”
Lan Xingchen: !!!
I told you—I deserve to die!
How could he sleep peacefully?!
He really deserves to die!
He has no heart!
“All right, then steam them later,” Lan Xingchen said gently.
Pei Qingjian nodded, helping him scoop a bowl of porridge. “Here.”
Lan Xingchen took it with both hands, as if holding a sacred scripture.
“Try some,” Pei Qingjian offered another bowl, gesturing for him to eat.
Lan Xingchen nodded. “Okay.”
He took a spoonful—the porridge had been cooked soft, cooled a bit, not scalding. It melted in his mouth and was very fragrant and sweet.
Lan Xingchen exclaimed in surprise, “Delicious.”
Hearing this, Pei Qingjian smiled faintly. “Then have some more.”
“Mm,” Lan Xingchen responded without hesitation.
He finished a few more spoonfuls, then scooped another bowl.
Seeing him enjoy it, Pei Qingjian felt a quiet joy as well.
He had always enjoyed cooking, but he usually ate alone. Every time he cooked a little, he’d end up making too much, and over time, cooking lost its joy.
Now, seeing Lan Xingchen eat bowl after bowl, some of that joy returned.
Feeling happy, he even made two more bowls.
The porridge hadn’t been made in large quantities—it was just breakfast, after all, not meant to be eaten in excess.
But Lan Xingchen clearly enjoyed it, scraping the small serving bowl clean and still seeming unsatisfied.
Pei Qingjian smiled as he carried the empty bowl away from the table. “If you liked it, I can make some more tonight.”
“Good,” Lan Xingchen said enthusiastically.
After that, he noticed Pei Qingjian had already cleared the dishes and seemed ready to head to the kitchen.
Lan Xingchen: !!!
He quickly got up and snatched the dishes from Pei Qingjian’s hands.
“I’ll wash them myself.”
Pei Qingjian thought about it and didn’t insist—he liked cooking but wasn’t fond of washing dishes. Having someone help him out was more than welcome.
“Thanks,” Pei Qingjian said with a smile.
“No need, no need,” Lan Xingchen said, feeling he didn’t deserve thanks.
He was just washing a few dishes! There was no need to say thanks!
If anything, Pei Qingjian had gone through last night’s events without complaint, even proactively made breakfast—and now, if he let him wash the dishes too, he would truly be the one who deserved to die.
Lan Xingchen thought people shouldn’t be this shameless, at least, they shouldn’t.
“You play on your phone for a bit. Once I’m done, we’ll go to your place.”
“Okay,” Pei Qingjian agreed.
Lan Xingchen followed him out, though Pei Qingjian went to the living room while Lan Xingchen went into the kitchen.
To be honest, Lan Xingchen had rarely stepped into this kitchen before.
Before moving in, he had a housekeeper cook for him; after moving, he had food deliveries.
So he hadn’t installed a dishwasher. Now, for the first time, this never-had-to-touch-a-dish young master was actually washing by hand.
As he scrubbed, he thought about how Pei Qingjian hadn’t mentioned last night’s events this morning—obviously, he didn’t want to bring it up.
Pei Qingjian hadn’t asked him to keep it a secret either, which meant he trusted him quite a lot.
But Pei Qingjian was only twenty-two. So young. If this were his first time facing something like that, he wouldn’t remain so composed. That could only mean this situation had happened before.
Lan Xingchen felt like he understood now.
That was why Pei Qingjian had sought him out. They hadn’t known each other previously, only running into each other at a bar that night. Pei Qingjian seemed troubled, half-drunk and half-sober, and had approached him, asking if he wanted to try… something.
At first, Lan Xingchen hadn’t been interested. But Pei Qingjian kept pushing closer, and Lan Xingchen happened to need someone to fill that kind of role. That was why he agreed.
He didn’t like Pei Qingjian, nor did he want him to have unrealistic fantasies, so he proposed a “money for effort” arrangement—he would pay, Pei Qingjian would participate. Fair and square.
Looking back, it seemed that Pei Qingjian had been worried about Lan Xingchen’s condition from the start. He had probably noticed something was off but didn’t know what to do, so he sought someone to test the situation. Unfortunately, at the critical moment, he got nervous and nothing came of it.
Why only him? Of course, because Lan Xingchen was handsome! Who in their right mind would pass up a guy that good-looking to go find someone else? Ridiculous!
Sigh. Lan Xingchen heaved a sigh. What a fine young man—and yet, impotent?
What should he do?
He recalled the supplements and foods that could boost performance.
Lan Xingchen peeked toward the kitchen door. Seeing Pei Qingjian hadn’t unexpectedly appeared, he pulled out his phone, started searching, screenshotting, and adding items to his cart.
“Not ready yet?” Pei Qingjian’s voice startled him.
Lan Xingchen nearly dropped his phone into the sink.
“Almost, almost,” he said sheepishly.
Pei Qingjian didn’t think much of it, leaning against the door while scrolling his own phone.
Lan Xingchen: ……
He had no choice but to pocket his phone and stop adding items.
Finally, Lan Xingchen finished the dishes, and they headed out toward Pei Qingjian’s place.
By now, Pei Qingjian had absorbed the original Pei Qingjian’s memories. He even took the time, while Lan Xingchen was washing dishes, to check himself in the mirror a few times, noticing more and more how similar he looked to the original.
Such a resemblance, and sharing the same name—if he didn’t transmigrate, who else would? Fate, indeed.
Walking beside him, Lan Xingchen caught a faint sigh from Pei Qingjian. Following his gaze, he saw Pei Qingjian looking at the pristine, sleek, impressively polished engine hood of a car.
Engine hood? Engine!
The car’s engine!
What has he done?!
Why bring him here to pick up the car? Couldn’t he have just started it and let him get in afterward?!
That flawless, shiny, perfect engine hood—it was practically mocking him!
No wonder Pei Qingjian was so sentimental.
The car’s engine was perfectly fine, but his engine… was just decoration!
How could he not lament it?!
He truly deserved to die!
He had no heart!