APR 15

Zhong Su was watching Fool eat with great interest when Chen Huan emerged from the kitchen, his hands still dripping wet. “Su’er,” he asked, “how do you want your eggplant? Braised in oil, or steamed with a sprinkle of salt?”

Zhong Su considered for a moment. “Steamed would be better,” he replied. “It’s less likely to cause internal heat.”

“Alright.”

Chen Huan returned to his cooking. About half an hour later, a fragrant plate of garlic-steamed eggplant, stir-fried beef with cabbage hearts, braised pork ribs, and seaweed egg drop soup were arranged on the table.

Zhong Su set out the bowls and chopsticks, filling both bowls with heaping portions of white rice.

After settling down, Zhong Su picked up a bite of eggplant. He chewed slowly, his eyebrow lifting almost imperceptibly. Swallowing casually, he remarked, “There’s still a bit too much salt. It’s a little salty. But I’m used to this level of saltiness, so it’s fine.”

Chen Huan nodded with a smile, then placed another piece of eggplant in Zhong Su’s bowl. “Good,” he said. “Eat up.”

Chen Huan didn’t mind cooking for Zhong Su, but his culinary skills were inconsistent. On a good day, his dishes were merely passable; on a bad day, they could be so unappetizing they made you question your life choices.

Zhong Su, on the other hand, disliked cooking. However, he would occasionally take over the kitchen when he could no longer endure Chen Huan’s disastrous meals.

Young people have good appetites and aren’t picky eaters. The two of them quickly polished off the mediocre dishes on the table, taking turns with their chopsticks.

Just as they finished eating, the bathwater came to a boil. They took turns showering in the bathroom.

Zhong Su finished first and sat on the edge of the bed, removing his undershirt to reveal his upper body.

Turning to Chen Huan, who had just emerged from the bathroom still damp with steam, he said, “Chen Huan, come help me apply cooling balm to these mosquito bites on my back. I can’t reach them myself.”

Zhong Su scratched frantically at his back, the red welts standing out like passionate marks left by someone’s forceful embrace.

“Su’er, are you sure you want me to help you?” Chen Huan’s throat bobbed, his voice tinged with barely suppressed agitation.

“Who else in this room could possibly help me apply it?” Zhong Su replied matter-of-factly.

Oblivious to Chen Huan’s expression, he urged, “I won’t let you do it for nothing. I’ll apply it for you later.”

“Alright, you said it.”

Soon, Zhong Su felt Chen Huan’s calloused fingertips, like sandpaper, rubbing against his skin.

The sensation reminded Zhong Su of the moment a cat’s barbed tongue had licked the back of his hand—a slight, rough itch beneath an indescribable intimacy.

As the young man with the broken eyebrow helped Zhong Su apply the ointment, he murmured softly, “Su’er, speaking of which, there’s something I’ve wanted to try for a long time.”

Zhong Su glanced at him dismissively. “Go ahead and try it. What is it?”

The words had barely left his lips when Chen Huan abruptly shoved him onto the bed.

“Chen Huan, what are you doing?” Zhong Su’s heart skipped a beat. He turned his head to see Chen Huan put his finger in his mouth, wet it, and draw it out, leaving a glistening, suggestive silver thread.

Chen Huan stated unequivocally, “I want to lick you down there.”

Zhong Su thought he must be hallucinating, too shocked to speak. “Have you taken the wrong medicine? Look closely—I’m not a woman!”

“Heh, tell me something I don’t know.”

Chen Huan pinned Zhong Su down with one hand and yanked down his loose shorts, revealing what lay beneath—

Just as he’d imagined: clean, fair skin with a healthy, pale pink undertone, strikingly beautiful.

Zhong Su felt an indescribable terror. He curled up in a desperate attempt to evade Chen Huan’s touch. “Fuck, Chen Huan, stop messing around! Seriously, stop! You’re going too far!”

Chen Huan reached out with his other hand, gripping Zhong Su’s supple waist. His gaze was dangerous and arrogant as he, without hesitation—

“Ah…” A short gasp escaped Zhong Su’s throat, quickly swallowed back down.

A terrifying yet exhilarating sensation, utterly foreign to him, surged through his limbs like an electric current, leaving his mind blank.

Zhong Su’s pupils constricted as he stared at the faint glint of teeth between Chen Huan’s lips, recalling the time he had bitten off an opponent’s finger during a fight.

Such a sharp, dangerous man, yet here he was, doing this to me.

Zhong Su held his breath, even swallowing felt perilous, terrified Chen Huan’s teeth might clamp down.

The sound echoed in the room, and despite Zhong Su’s resistance, his face flushed crimson from cheek to earlobe as he began to pant hoarsely.

Suddenly, Chen Huan ground his teeth and bit down lightly.

An overwhelming, terrifying sensation shot through Zhong Su’s spine. His face went deathly pale as he grabbed Chen Huan’s hair. “Spit it out—ah, I can’t hold back!”

As soon as the words left his lips, Chen Huan released him, a few drops of saliva dripping onto Zhong Su’s tan chest.

“Ugh…” As soon as he finished, Zhong Su turned and vomited over the edge of the bed. The terror of being bitten by Chen Huan and the disgust of being touched by the man twisted together, causing his stomach to spasm violently.

Chen Huan reached out to steady him. “Su’er.”

“Get the hell away from me!” Zhong Su snarled, his face burning with shame and fury. He shoved Chen Huan’s hand away and landed a heavy punch on his face. “Why did you do that? What the hell were you thinking? Is this how you play with people?!”

Blood trickled from the corner of Chen Huan’s mouth. He casually wiped it away and smirked. “Su’er, you enjoyed it too. Just forgive me.”

“You’re a man too. After all these days here, haven’t you felt any urges?”

Zhong Su couldn’t answer. They were both in their prime, and he wasn’t a block of wood—of course he had desires.

But the house was tiny, with only one bedroom. Anything done inside could be heard outside.

Several times, he’d been too restless to sleep at night, forced to endure his mounting frustration.

So when Chen Huan pinned him down and his fingers wrapped around him, Zhong Su panicked and his mind raced. Yet he couldn’t deny the electric current that shot up his spine—it had indeed made him lose himself in pleasure.

Zhong Su suddenly found himself unable to continue scolding. He rubbed his temples and said, “If you were feeling suffocated, you could have just asked for some personal space. I would have understood.”

“Instead of… instead of pulling such a disgusting prank.”

Chen Huan smirked, his gaze both mocking and amused. “Don’t give me that. You got hard just now. Can you really call that a joke?”

His tone hardened. “And disgusting? Who was giving you head just now? You seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit. Did you lose a piece of yourself?”

Zhong Su choked, speechless. He wanted to deny enjoying it, but the truth was otherwise—and that was what infuriated him most.

He turned away without a word, his jaw tight as he said, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s drop it. I’ll let it slide this time, but there won’t be a next time.”

He knew his words lacked conviction, but he refused to dwell on it.

Chen Huan’s gaze felt like knives scraping down Zhong Su’s back, as if trying to peel away his layers of pretense. After a long moment, he shrugged and smiled indifferently. “Fine. If you don’t like it, there definitely won’t be a next time.”

Chen Huan wiped his face and went into the bathroom. The sound of the faucet running and the gurgling of mouthwash followed.

Zhong Su silently pulled up his pants and watched Chen Huan, his face now clean, return with a mop to clean up the mess he had made by the bed.

As the stains on the floor vanished inch by inch, it was as if the earlier loss of control had never happened.

When the light went out, only silence remained in the room.

Zhong Su turned his back to Chen Huan, his body coiled like a taut bow. His heart pounded erratically, like a string being plucked wildly, its rhythm impossible to steady.

Chen Huan, however, remained completely unaffected, his breathing already even as he drifted into sleep.

How did Chen Huan do that just now?

Listening to the steady breathing beside him, Zhong Su hesitantly reached into his pants and touched the lingering—

His fingertips trembled, recoiling as if burned, his brow furrowing deeply. Damn it, this is so frustrating.