The car was silent. Zhao Mingzhen stayed quiet for a long while, unable to find the right words.
He had never encountered anything like this before, so he couldn’t detect the subtleties in Jiang Shao’s words. Pei Ershao understood, but the truth he spoke out only made it harder to accept.
The parking lot was pitch black; Zhao Mingzhen couldn’t see what was happening inside, yet he could imagine Qi Ji asleep.
He couldn’t fathom what the boy would face next.
With a drug like this, the effects were self-explanatory. Given Qi Ji’s current state, it wasn’t just a matter of two months or two days—he might not even survive that long.
In fact, this wasn’t about time at all. According to the host and Jiang Shao, someone who had taken this drug should be desperate, unable to control themselves. Yet Qi Ji clearly reacted the opposite: he was uncomfortable even with the lightest touch from others.
Qi Ji had always resisted such contact instinctively, even to the point of aversion. If the antidote were forcibly applied—even with the intent of helping him—there was little chance he would accept it once he woke up.
Thinking this, Zhao Mingzhen glanced at Pei Ershao.
He didn’t know what the other was planning, but forcing the antidote was clearly unwise.
Pei Ershao’s face remained dark, chilling at a glance. Zhao Mingzhen had heard rumors that this young master was an unrestrained playboy, but the man before him felt entirely different.
Even just in terms of presence—no playboy could possess such an imposing aura.
It was precisely because of this calm contrast with his reputation that Zhao Mingzhen couldn’t read Pei Ershao’s true intentions, even after several encounters. He couldn’t be sure of Pei Yusheng’s choice.
Before Zhao could speak again, Pei Yusheng’s phone vibrated.
He answered, and almost immediately, a young, cold voice came through, tinged with urgency.
“Yusheng, did you really go to Shanhai Manor?”
“Yeah.”
Pei Yusheng responded quietly, tucking the wireless earpiece he had taken off earlier back into his ear.
The voice on the other end fell silent; Pei Yusheng listened, his expression cold once more.
“Got it. I’m leaving immediately,” he said, then ended the call.
Not long after, the driver who had been handling Jiang Shao returned. Pei Yusheng instructed, “Lingtai District is blocked. Take a detour and get Zhou Li on the phone. He’ll guide you.”
The driver acknowledged, and the three got into the car. Zhao Mingzhen took the passenger seat. As he opened the door, he caught Pei Ershao at the rear, pausing briefly as he looked into the car before bending to enter.
As before, the SUV was allowed through by the officers at the back gate, slipping into the quiet night. But this night was anything but peaceful.
The journey was rough. The driver followed the directions on the phone, navigating a detour. Compared to the smooth drive in, this felt like jumping straight into hard mode.
Luckily, Uncle Xu’s driving was excellent, and the SUV’s performance was top-notch. Despite the rough path, there was barely a jolt.
Sitting in the front, Zhao Mingzhen could feel the difficulty of the ride. He didn’t know the full story but guessed it had something to do with the Pei and Jiang families’ power struggles. Even though his family had kept him from these affairs, he understood that because of his grandfather’s connection with Pei Laoye, he and his family had always been marked as associated with the Peis.
There was no need to dwell on it further.
Although he didn’t overthink, Zhao Mingzhen was still tense in this movie-like emergency. What calmed him most, though, was Pei Ershao in the back seat.
The young master, at the center of the storm, remained completely composed. Compared to earlier, his calm now could almost be described as serene.
He had his most precious treasure in his arms.
Seated by the door, he left most of the rear space for Qi Ji, carefully resting the boy’s nape on his thigh. The SUV moved steadily, and aside from a few prompts from the phone, the atmosphere was peaceful and quiet.
But the calm didn’t last long.
Zhao Mingzhen, distracted by the tricky road, realized after a moment that the boy resting on Pei Yusheng’s lap was awake—and moving.
Peering through the rearview mirror, he saw that Qi Ji was… rubbing?
Zhao Mingzhen silently swallowed his surprise.
The boy was indeed pressing himself against him.
Worried he might slip off the seat, Pei Yusheng placed his left hand on Qi Ji’s chest, protective. The coat in between made it bearable for the boy.
Yet, Pei Yusheng hadn’t expected the reaction: the boy wasn’t resisting—it was actively initiated.
Qi Ji obediently allowed Pei Yusheng to adjust the coat that partially covered his face, laying his head on the man’s thigh, breathing smoothly. Pei Yusheng had removed all the restraints—the wristbands, ankle bands, collar, and chains—bending the metal rings without harming the skin. Only the thigh ring took extra care due to the boy’s sensitivity.
The car had been running for a while. The rear heater was warm. Seeing the boy a little uncomfortable, Pei Yusheng reached to adjust his collar.
The moment his hand approached, Qi Ji unexpectedly pressed his soft, warm cheek directly into Pei Yusheng’s palm.
Pei Yusheng felt a sudden weight in his hand, his heart skipping a beat.
Neither Jiang Duo’s threats nor the phone call’s urgency had unsettled him, and even the potential danger outside hadn’t made him glance up. But Qi Ji pressing into his hand, fully trusting, was something he could not ignore.
He felt the stiffness in his entire arm. Even after running a ten-kilometer obstacle course with a hundred pounds on his back, his arm had never felt so tense.
The lights outside flashed across the boy’s pale, exquisite face. Perhaps the drug’s effect was starting to show. His profile flushed with a delicate pink, like a beauty tipsy on wine. His ear tips glowed red, and the light brown hair shone softly, making it impossible to resist touching.
Things he had only ever imagined were now happening, offered directly into his palm.
Qi Ji’s movements were small; his strength nearly spent. But the contrast between his usual avoidance and this initiative was overwhelming. No one could resist—Pei Yusheng certainly couldn’t.
Originally, he only wanted to adjust the collar. Now, he couldn’t even recall the basics of relieving stiff arms. The boy nudged his curled fingers open, and his hand spread, a pillow welcoming a friend.
Qi Ji moved a few times, found the most comfortable position, and settled against Pei Yusheng’s palm. He wasn’t fully asleep and occasionally nudged the man’s fingers with his soft nose, sending a warm breath that tingled up Pei Yusheng’s arm.
The subtle, unexplainable tingling traveled from fingertips to heart.
Pain is tolerable; itch is not. Pei Yusheng understood this deeply at that moment.
But he didn’t lose control.
Even when the boy’s lips brushed his little finger, Pei Yusheng kept his usual composure. Learning from the experience, he forced himself to focus and decisively stopped overthinking…
…lest the boy suddenly call him “Daddy” at the height of excitement.
Qi Ji’s movements were small, silent. The front driver focused on driving. Once new updates arrived, he spoke.
“Young master, the Jing’an District roads are open. To the hospital, or…?”
Pei Yusheng glanced up, but before he could respond, Zhao Mingzhen hesitated and spoke first.
“Second master, I think Qi Ji… might not like hospitals.”
Pei Yusheng looked at him. “Hmm?”
Zhao glanced at the sleeping boy and softened his voice. “Do you remember his reaction the last time he went to a hospital, as seen on surveillance?”
He shared his reasoning.
“I checked his records later. About two weeks ago, he was at the hospital—then it noted a concussion. The nurse who gave him an IV knew our department. She said he fainted in the subway and was brought in. When he woke, his first reaction was to leave immediately. He only stayed because the nurse and doctors persuaded him.
“I spoke with her, and the nurses in the ward, and watched the surveillance again. Qi Ji’s reactions were familiar; I’d seen them in other patients.
“It’s like children who are frail or over-poked with injections, or those who witnessed close relatives die—when they enter a hospital, they instinctively feel unwell. Psychological trauma triggers physiological responses.”
That was speculation; Zhao Mingzhen added further proof.
“Just now, I examined him with gloves from the hospital. They had absorbed disinfectant. As soon as I touched him, he resisted. But when I removed the gloves and checked over the coat, he accepted it more easily.”
Zhao then explained Qi Ji’s current condition.
“The drug components aren’t fully identified. Even at a hospital, only routine checks could be done. Deeper tests aren’t possible in his current state. The priority is identifying the drug and finding something to mitigate its effects. He doesn’t need to be at the hospital right now.
“My suggestion: take his blood sample for testing. He doesn’t need to be present yet.”
This avoids triggering him with disinfectant smells and waking him to discomfort.
Pei Yusheng looked down at the boy in his arms—still asleep, long eyelashes curving beautifully. Obedient and lovely, yet so fragile, making him ache with concern.
He remained silent for a moment, then asked, “At home, what measures can we take? Should we use injections?”
Zhao shook his head. “No, too many sedatives aren’t good. We don’t know if they’ll interact with the previous drug. At home, sugar water is fine. Most importantly…”
He paused, choosing a gentler phrasing. “The effects should be eased naturally. Forcing it with other drugs may not be safe or effective.”
The components of aphrodisiac drugs are similar, and the antidotes often are too. This is one reason Zhao hadn’t recommended the hospital. In a setting the boy already resisted, the stress of a public environment would make recovery harder, and excess psychological pressure would strain his body.
Pei Yusheng considered for a moment.
He remembered the last time he had carried the boy all the way without him waking, only for Qi Ji to regain consciousness and bolt the moment they entered the hospital.
He couldn’t be sure that this time Qi Ji wouldn’t be roused by the smell of disinfectant, and with the drug’s effects not yet eased, having him wake up wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
In the end, he decided to bring him home.
Along the way, Dr. Zhao drew two vials of blood. To avoid waking him, he carefully covered the boy’s mouth and nose with the coat while wiping the puncture site.
With the blood samples in hand, Dr. Zhao switched cars to head to the hospital. They stayed in constant contact. As soon as Pei Yusheng’s team got the prescription for the drug, they would send it to Huashan Hospital for analysis.
Before leaving, Dr. Zhao placed the blood samples in the car’s portable cooler. He glanced at Qi Ji still asleep on Pei Yusheng’s lap, hesitated for a moment, then decided to speak.
“Second Master, if I may say one more thing…”
Pei Yusheng, weighing whether to cradle the boy fully in his arms to sleep, looked up.
“Hm?”
“This drug is supposed to make a person more… willing. But when Qi Ji was still conscious, he was highly averse to any contact, not compliant. That shows, to some extent, he naturally resists this kind of thing.”
“Also, the host mentioned before that the first person to touch him would be deeply remembered. The other ingredients Jiang Duo mentioned indicate the same. This suggests there’s a mind-control component. For Qi Ji, if something done under that influence disgusts him once he’s awake, it could become a mental burden later.”
Dr. Zhao carefully explained.
“So, while the drug’s effects need to be relieved, as a doctor, I suggest you… take a gentler approach.”
“There are several ways to ease the effects…” Zhao hesitated—this was delicate to say—but looking at Qi Ji, he forced himself to continue before this imposing young master. “Physiologically, he can’t handle intense activity. Psychologically, he will resist… the real thing.”
Quietly, he added, “He’s only nineteen, according to his records.”
Pei Yusheng listened in silence. Finally, he only hummed once, showing no emotion on his face.
After Dr. Zhao left, the SUV restarted, heading home. Pei Yusheng lowered his gaze, his left hand, cradling the boy’s cheek, curling his fingers slightly, brushing the long lashes of the sleeping teenager.
The boy stirred a little, pressing deeper into his palm.
Pei Yusheng decided then not to hesitate further. He scooped the boy from the seat and held him fully in his arms.
When he first shifted his hand from the boy’s face, Qi Ji whined softly—a muffled, nasal sound, almost pitiful. But once fully in Pei Yusheng’s embrace, he recognized the familiar, comforting scent and relaxed, continuing to sleep peacefully.
Pei Yusheng looked down. The boy had lost even more weight compared to half a month ago. His chin was sharp; the slight softness on his backside had noticeably diminished.
The boy barely weighed more than a sandbag.
Pei Yusheng sighed inwardly.
He had fed him so many cookies and chocolate, yet he gained no weight. And he was still losing.
He recalled Dr. Zhao’s worried, repeated reminders before leaving and couldn’t help smiling. The boy, eyes closed, slept on unaware of how much careful attention had been given to him.
If not for fear of waking him, Pei Yusheng might have reached out to pinch his tiny nose.
“Little one, do I really look like I’m plotting mischief against you?”
Then he thought it through.
No, he hadn’t imagined it.
Cradling the boy along the way, half an hour later, the SUV entered the villa complex smoothly. Pei Yusheng received a message from Dr. Zhao: the blood test results were largely normal. There was still obvious anemia, but unrelated to the current incident.
Pei Yusheng carried the boy into the house and upstairs. The hallway was long; as they shifted positions, the boy’s soft cheek pressed against Pei Yusheng’s neck. The warm breath pooled in the crook of his neck, barely perceptible but steadily accumulating into a heat that spread.
It was faint, yet overwhelming.
Pei Yusheng hadn’t felt this urgent desire for something in a long time. The sensation was novel, teasing at the softest parts of his heart.
It was like seeing a vibrant red rose bloom suddenly in a world of only black and white.
Yet, even with such a rare opportunity literally in his hands, Pei Yusheng couldn’t indulge it.
He couldn’t bring himself to—it was too precious a treasure.
The bedroom door opened. The chandelier sensed the owner’s presence and lit automatically. Pei Yusheng gently laid the boy on the bed, watching him sink into the soft, fluffy blankets.
In the dim light, the boy’s profile looked even softer. His skin was nearly translucent, faintly flushed, tender and tempting to touch.
Pei Yusheng had carried him the entire way, yet he still couldn’t resist the urge. Sweat-damp strands clung to the boy’s slightly reddened cheek. Pei Yusheng reached out, tucking the loose hair behind his ear.
The boy’s hair was soft, and so were his ears. People said soft hair and ears meant a soft nature and gentle temperament—traits Pei Yusheng saw none of in this child.
No sooner had he thought this than the sleeping boy sensed the familiar touch and nudged his face against Pei Yusheng’s hand, pressing insistently. The soft cheek against his palm, repeatedly teasing him like a feather, ignited something in Pei Yusheng he couldn’t resist.
He sighed quietly to himself.
At this moment, the little boy was being exceptionally clingy—so much so that Pei Yusheng couldn’t even think “you’re being naughty” in his mind.
He simply sat on the edge of the bed, palm open, letting the boy rub against it. Half-buried in the soft blankets, Qi Ji ignored the plush velvet pillow and instead pressed himself against Pei Yusheng’s slightly calloused hand.
He was so obedient that just watching him made Pei Yusheng’s tongue feel sweet.
And yet, being clung to in this way felt strange to him.
He had just experienced the novel, urgent feeling of desire, and now the boy, with a simple, unconscious gesture, filled that longing with ease.
Qi Ji, sleeping in the curve of his palm, reminded Pei Yusheng inexplicably of the kitten his mother had once raised. That kitten had been no bigger than a hand, covered in soft, fine fur, a little fluffy ball of warmth.
The kitten had been clingy too—whenever it wanted affection, it would press against your hand or arm. Just a few strokes and it would roll onto its back, exposing a snowy-white, fluffy belly, staring at you expectantly for more pets.
That kitten was cute and beautiful, its mews soft and tender, quickly winning over all the motherly admirers. Back then, Pei Yusheng had still been at home. Though not particularly interested in small animals, the kitten would occasionally “stage accidents” to curl up beside him. The encounters were rare, but now, seeing Qi Ji, Pei Yusheng recalled the similarity in texture.
He was also very aware of the difference between the two.
He had no other thoughts about the kitten.
But the boy who had just triggered other thoughts had no idea. Wrapped in velvet blankets, his soft face, framed by pristine fluff, looked even more childlike.
Pei Yusheng thought: this is the color that suits him best.
When the boy trained, he had shone brilliantly in black, streaked with red—a breathtaking sight that made it impossible to look away.
But now, wrapped in soft white, he was the picture of comfort.
Perhaps the velvet blanket was a bit thick. After a while, Qi Ji’s cheek and the back of his ear were slightly damp with sweat. His face grew redder, pressed against Pei Yusheng’s palm, radiating warmth. Soon, he began to hum softly, the same low, nasal protest he had made earlier when Pei Yusheng shifted his hand.
A little spoiled darling.
Pei Yusheng could not resist. He coaxed him carefully, gently sliding his palm free. Rising, he headed to the bathroom to fill the tub, planning to let the boy soak for a while, then have some sweet water.
The bathroom was fully automated—turn on the switch, and everything handled itself. But Pei Yusheng didn’t immediately fetch the boy. While the tub filled, he retrieved his phone, which had been silent for a long time.
The moment he opened it, messages flooded in like a tidal wave, unending.
Indeed, tonight was a night of storms. Outside, chaos raged; only this villa, with just the two of them inside, retained a fragment of warmth.
Pei Yusheng quickly scanned the messages, yet his brow remained calm. Most were reports rather than requests for decisions. In the two hours since he left, what had seemed tense and critical had never gone beyond the boundaries of the pre-set contingency plan he had designed as the strategist.
He had prepared for this night for a long time. From the moment he set foot in S City, and even before, the game had already begun.
He had made exhaustive preparations, considered hundreds of possibilities, all for a decisive strike.
Judging from the current feedback, he had succeeded.
The only unpredictable factor had been Qi Ji being trapped and photographed at the auction.
No matter how many rehearsals one ran, the complexity of the situation could never be fully controlled. Tonight would be sleepless. Pei Yusheng should have been at headquarters, monitoring the situation. For someone like him, even a second from victory could not be greeted with premature celebration.
He had never imagined leaving at this critical moment. Attending the auction in person had never been part of the plan. He shouldn’t have left any evidence that could be questioned, distancing himself entirely from the event—that would have been the perfect strategy.
And yet, tonight he appeared openly, bidding in public, and even broke Jiang Shao’s wrist and arm.
But Pei Yusheng felt no guilt or hesitation. There was no second choice here.
The bidding and punishing Jiang Shao were no less crucial than the overall plan.
After quickly scanning the messages and sending the most essential replies, he made two more calls, then set the phone aside.
He was about to check the bathtub when a subtle sound caught his attention.
He sensed it immediately—not from the water, but outside the bathroom.
Frowning, he turned and walked out.
The sound stopped immediately, and the corridor was silent. The villa’s security system had not registered any disturbance.
Pei Yusheng headed back toward the bedroom, and upon approaching, he saw the bed empty.
His pupils constricted sharply.
Like an arrow loosed from a fully drawn bow, he surged forward, until he saw the white blanket dragged on the floor and the small tuft of light brown hair tangled inside. Only then did his heartbeat return to normal.
The boy had rolled off the bed by himself.
Pei Yusheng hadn’t even exhaled before frowning. He had deliberately placed the boy in the center of the bed before leaving for the bathroom.
Was this little one always this restless in sleep?
He hurried forward, intending to scoop up the boy and the tangled blanket—but then their eyes met.
Qi Ji had awakened, looking up at the approaching Pei Yusheng.
Unlike the dazed confusion in the car the last time, thinking Pei Yusheng was his father, Qi Ji’s eyes now were bright, gleaming.
Those deer-like eyes held none of the previous lingering affection. Instead, they were filled with an unfamiliar coldness, caution, and vigilance.
With a piercing sense of distance.