The TV station’s underground parking required facial recognition; outsiders couldn’t enter, but a crowd of fans had already gathered outside.
An Ning and the driver went ahead, only to be blocked at the entrance. Qin Sizheng and Lu Xianqing, riding in An Ying’s car, tried to sneak out from behind, but the crowd still held them fast.
Fans frantically pounded on the windows. Even with the reflective shields, Qin Sizheng instinctively shrank back.
“It’s fine, they can’t see you.” Lu Xianqing pulled him closer, gently kneading the bones of his hand. Qin Sizheng felt warmth seep through his fingers and instinctively retracted them a little.
“Fourth Brother.”
“Hm?”
Qin Sizheng pulled his hand back; it had been easier than expected, which surprised Lu Xianqing. The next second, Lu Xianqing opened his fingers, letting them sweep lightly over Qin Sizheng’s hand.
Qin Sizheng glanced at An Ying and cautiously signaled with his eyes. Lu Xianqing seemed oblivious, resting his hand on his knee instead. Qin Sizheng exhaled softly, placing his left hand over Lu Xianqing’s, interlacing their fingers.
Lu Xianqing smiled and tightened his grip.
An Ying, seeing the crowd no longer pressing, murmured with worry, “Your family probably has people watching too. They don’t pick a good day—they’re poking the hornet’s nest. Tomorrow’s headline could easily be Lu Xianqing and Qin Sizheng living together. Someone could write a full-blown R-rated script on the spot.”
Lu Xianqing leaned back, smiling at the comment. “If I lived with him and it didn’t make the headlines, that would be the worrying part.”
An Ying: “….”
Qin Sizheng didn’t want to answer. He lowered his head and opened Weibo to check his performance tonight.
The moment he opened it, the exploding number of unread notifications stunned him. He was trending—the top five posts all about him. Nervously, he straightened in his seat.
He clicked on one: #LuXianqingQinSizhengCoupleOutfit#. His eyes widened. He turned sharply to Lu Xianqing and tugged his hand to inspect the cuff—sure enough, it bore the same pattern as his own.
“Fourth Brother, did you prepare this outfit for me?”
Lu Xianqing froze at the question, then smirked with a guess. He hooked Qin Sizheng closer with his left hand and whispered, “Yes. I wanted to see you wearing what I prepared… then maybe tear it off with my own hands. You wore it so obediently—shall I?”
Qin Sizheng shoved him away, cheeks red, pretending to focus on the trending posts. Clips of his dance had been clipped separately—they looked unexpectedly perfect.
“Your fans said your body is flexible… I haven’t tested that yet. Let me check.” Lu Xianqing reached toward the screen. Qin Sizheng quickly hid the phone, worried he might accidentally tap “like.”
Meanwhile, at a university dorm…
A boy leaned back in his chair, watching comments on the article he’d just posted skyrocket.
Someone had asked him to write a hit piece on Qin Sizheng, to paint him in the worst light, maybe even ruin him completely. A script was even provided to embellish.
He replied to them with a single word: “Scram.”
“Shijing, they paid you that much? Ten thousand for one article?” A roommate peeked over, stunned. “Entertainment industry money is insane. Forget planes, let’s run a fan page. Big bro Shijing will guide us.”
Shijing brushed him aside. The roommate grabbed some fruit, mumbling, “Your family’s not short on money—why take this? My girlfriend’s a big Qin Sizheng fan… don’t let her know you’re Jing Shi, or she’ll strangle me.”
Shijing’s Weibo account, Jing Shi, focused solely on Qin Sizheng.
He disliked Qin Sizheng’s unprofessional antics, but he didn’t do it for money. He only documented Qin Sizheng’s publicly known actions, never fabricating scripts. This gave him considerable influence in fan circles.
Private messages were still pouring in. Shijing clicked one that caught his attention:
Hong Xuefeifei
Everyone knew she was one of Qin Sizheng’s biggest fans.
She said: 【If a man wants to battle, don’t hide behind the shadows. Need money? I’ll pay. Trash.】
Shijing smirked. He knew Hong Xuefeifei well—gentle, generous, calm, more rational than some other fans, never causing trouble, organized activities, genuinely fond of Qin Sizheng.
He naturally disliked her the most; they’d been teasing each other for a while.
But he wasn’t interested in battling a fangirl. Time spent there could be better spent on experiments—like the new helicopter fuel system he was developing, a contribution to all humanity.
He replied: 【No comment with your fan, let’s drop it, sister.】
Home was not an option. An Ying asked where they were going, and his own home couldn’t accommodate them.
Lu Xianqing gave an address: a house in the west side of the city, bought for him by Ye Xu. Rarely used, but regularly cleaned—ready to live in.
They soon arrived. An Ying lowered the car window meaningfully, reminding them to stay safe, then drove off, leaving a blushing, embarrassed Qin Sizheng standing in place.
Lu Xianqing reached out and brushed Qin Sizheng’s ear. “We’re home.”
The word “home” pressed right against Qin Sizheng’s chest. He hurried to follow Lu Xianqing inside. The interior here was far warmer and softer than his own home’s cold, hard decor.
The moment the door closed, he was pinned against it, hands raised, vulnerabilities exposed.
Lu Xianqing, like a wild beast freed from restraint, abandoned all reason and lowered his head, biting and claiming Qin Sizheng’s lips. Soon, the taste of blood hit him, making it hard to breathe. Qin Sizheng was forced to tilt his head, accepting it.
His breath came in heavy, staggering waves, as if he had trekked across countless miles to reach this moment.
Qin Sizheng’s lips were bitten until they bled. It hurt—each throb of his heart echoing—but a spark would flare, transforming pain into a tingling pleasure, electric and relentless.
He felt like he might suffocate; ears ringing, vision slightly darkening. Only when his wrists went weak did Lu Xianqing mercifully release him. Qin Sizheng immediately leaned on his shoulder to catch his breath, trembling intermittently.
Lu Xianqing, heart racing, leaned down and bit the side of his neck. His voice hoarse: “You know? The carotid sinus here has pressure receptors. When blood pressure rises, the sinus walls expand, stimulating these receptors. Simply put, by kissing you here, I could lower your blood pressure, cause vasovagal syncope—you could die in this kiss, at the peak of pleasure.”
Qin Sizheng, softened by the scientific explanation, let out a feeble, coquettish sound without even realizing it.
“Fourth Brother, stop… I can’t breathe.”
Lu Xianqing pressed his hands over Qin Sizheng’s, feeling the tips tremble before gripping fully. He lifted him onto the table, standing before him to block the only escape route.
Qin Sizheng’s heart sank—this was going to be reckoning time.
“Like touching other people’s abs?”
He shook his head frantically, explaining: “Shi Jianshu is young and playful. Last time we shot a magazine, he envied my abs, so I told him to go practice at home. That’s all—nothing else.”
Lu Xianqing let out a cold laugh. “He touched you?”
Qin Sizheng, near tears, nodded. “He ambushed me… it wasn’t my choice.”
“Still got to touch, huh.” Lu Xianqing’s grin was chillingly casual.
He grasped Qin Sizheng’s hand and pressed it against his own suit buttons. “Undo.”
Qin Sizheng’s fingers went numb. He instinctively tried to withdraw, but Lu Xianqing didn’t stop him. Instead, he leaned down and bit his ear, lightly licking the outer ridge—a clear threat. “Try taking it away, and you won’t even be able to cry tonight, Yanyan. You can test me.”
The warmth of Lu Xianqing’s voice rivaled his breath. Qin Sizheng, trembling, pressed on the buttons, undoing one after another.
Lu Xianqing’s body was perfect—a natural clothes hanger. Qin Sizheng had never seen anyone wear a suit so flawlessly, exuding both restraint and desire in a way that made his knees weak.
The white shirt had more buttons, each undone to reveal exquisite muscles.
He had glimpsed this in the gym months ago, wishing he could touch. Now, half a year later, it was real—this person was his.
“Go on, touch.”
“Can I… not? I admit I was wrong.”
“No.”
Trembling, Qin Sizheng reached out, feeling the firm, warm texture with fingertips, palms, carefully tracing the ridges. It was as magical as he had imagined.
He moved upward from the abs to the chest. When he unintentionally brushed a certain spot, Lu Xianqing shivered.
Qin Sizheng instinctively drew back, only to have Lu Xianqing grip his hand and guide it back to the chest. He could feel the heartbeat, astonishingly realizing Lu Xianqing was as tense as he was.
He gathered courage, reopening his hand, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss, sensing Lu Xianqing tremble. Wrapping his arms around his back, he deepened the fluttering contact.
“Where did you learn that?” Lu Xianqing asked hoarsely, pinching the back of his neck and tightening slightly.
Qin Sizheng lifted his head, hands around Lu Xianqing’s neck, silently staring, counting in his mind.
He had read about a test: staring at your lover for seven seconds makes them want to kiss you. Qin Sizheng counted silently, but three seconds remained when Lu Xianqing had already completed the test.
Unreasonable! Qin Sizheng could only think that. A moment later, he added another thought: hitting yourself in the foot feels like this.
When he next became aware of himself, only his shirt, shirt garter, and black socks remained, highlighting his fair skin.
Lu Xianqing tugged at the shirt, the garter rubbing against his thigh, and tapped lightly through the fabric. “I really want to put something here on you… hide it from everyone. Under obedience, what’s hidden…”
Qin Sizheng’s ears blazed; he clutched the bedsheet. “Don’t say that.”
But Lu Xianqing didn’t just speak—he acted.
He opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a small box, handing it over. Qin Sizheng hesitated, then opened it. Two pins with tiny bells lay inside. He nearly dropped it in shock.
“Take them back.”
Clutching the box, he shook his head. “Fourth Brother… can we not… I—”
“Shy?”
Qin Sizheng nodded, struggling. “Can I not wear them?”
He couldn’t imagine Lu Xianqing helping him wear them. He already felt awkward putting them on himself; imagining the other taking over made his eyes water.
“No.” Lu Xianqing took one and fastened it neatly in front of him.
Qin Sizheng trembled. The sharp chime rang out instantly, nearly deafening him. He froze, too tense to move, raising his hands to shield his eyes, which immediately reddened.
Lu Xianqing had only put one on him. Somehow that was even harder to accept than wearing two, yet Qin Sizheng was too embarrassed to ask him to put the other one on as well, so he could only glare at him in dissatisfaction.
“That look—are you getting impatient?”
Lu Xianqing deliberately twisted his meaning. Qin Sizheng lifted his foot to kick him, but Lu Xianqing caught his ankle and squeezed hard. The pressure forced his toes to spread inside his socks, and the resistance of the fabric tugged a sliver of rationality—and shame—back into him.
Lu Xianqing had night blindness and could not turn off the lights. The bright room made Qin Sizheng even more nervous, a flush spreading from his neck all the way up.
“Fourth Brother…”
Lu Xianqing pressed a hand gently over his lips and asked softly, “Are you scared?”
Qin Sizheng nodded. He had never done anything like this before. Every first he had ever experienced in love had been taught to him by Lu Xianqing. Filming had given him a vague understanding, but that was nothing like the real thing.
This kind of surrender unsettled him. It felt as though he were handing over his very life to another person, allowing him to do whatever he pleased—placing even his life and death in the other’s control.
“Do you trust me?” Lu Xianqing asked.
After a moment of silence, Qin Sizheng nodded.
“I am going to hurt you,” Lu Xianqing said, “but I will make you feel good too. Can you endure it? If you cannot, we will stop. There are other ways. I have other ways to make you happy.”
Qin Sizheng knew he did. After thinking for a moment, he turned his head aside and said softly, “But I want you to be happy too. Not just me.”
Lu Xianqing froze. His grip tightened unconsciously, making Qin Sizheng frown from the pain.
Qin Sizheng did not cry out. He opened his eyes, pressed his lips together, and lifted his head to kiss him. “I can handle it. You… do it. However you like.”
“Yanyan.”