Chapter 25 Memory Fragments

Chapter 25 Memory Fragments

Zhu Zhixi thought such an unreasonable demand would undoubtedly be rejected by the cheapskate. Then he could tease him outright for how foolish it was to insist on compensation.

However, the situation developed differently.

Fu Rangyi studied him and asked seriously, "Are the demands you're making within my capabilities?"

What?

Zhu Zhixi was caught off guard. He had assumed they would exchange snarky remarks for a while, naturally dissolving this self-deprecating feeling.

"Of course," he blinked, then scratched his cheek. "What kind of demands could I make? It's not like I'd go fetch me a star."

There was indeed a "star" flickering in his palm, though now, with Fu Rangyi present, it flickered slowly—much slower than Zhu Zhixi's heartbeat.

[48 days, 04 hours, 41 minutes, 39 seconds]

Because of what happened yesterday, the countdown had regressed by a full day.

Looking at the numbers, Zhu Zhixi felt a complicated mix of emotions—pleased yet uneasy. It was as if, within the framework of this countdown, yesterday had simply vanished.

Only he could see the countdown, and only he retained the complete memory. It was as if yesterday had never existed, just a dream.

If not for this countdown, Zhu Zhixi thought, their relationship would be more equal—his care for Fu Rangyi would stem purely from goodwill, not the desire to gain an extra day of life. That was his most sincere thought. But now, this additional day had been forced into his hands, a non-negotiable "payment."

The most terrifying part was that he couldn’t deny the bodily pleasure either—he had enjoyed it, found it pleasurable.

And now, Fu Rangyi was actually planning to fulfill his ridiculously picky requests.

Getting way more than he deserved!

Felt like a fraud… but hey, he wasn’t exactly on borrowed time anyway.

Even though he was the one making outrageous demands, Zhu Zhixi inexplicably grew nervous. He rubbed the tip of his nose, putting on a cool front. "Alright. Then I’ll put it to the test."

He thought for a long while. Fu Rangyi stared at him the entire time.

"Right now…" Zhu Zhixi mumbled, barely above a whisper, "say something nice about me."

Getting a snarky bastard to compliment someone must be tougher than pulling teeth.

"I agree."

Fu Rangyi stated seriously, "Today, you can give me any command. I’ll do my best to fulfill it."

Command?

Why did that sound so strange? As if he were some kind of robot.

But this unbelievably charming version of Fu Rangyi was rare enough to make anyone swoon.

Well, if he's offering...

Shameless? So be it—it wasn’t like he had long to live anyway.

Fine, getting way more than he deserved it was!

Sure enough, Fu Rangyi's expression shifted subtly, but unlike during his heat period where he'd whine and cling pitifully, he had clearly regained his usual restraint. Yet his slightly widened eyes, trembling lashes, lips unconsciously pressed together behind the muzzle, and the slow roll of his Adam's apple were all emotional leaks—just like his pheromones, which no matter how hard he tried to rein in, would uncontrollably seep toward Zhu Zhixi.

That floral scent that had upended his desires.

At the thought, Zhu Zhixi found himself inexplicably pleased.

He deliberately leaned in, his nose nearly touching the muzzle, and whispered, "*Am* I really that hard to compliment?"

As expected, the teasing made Fu Rangyi's expression even more unreadable, as if he were struggling to suppress something.

*Can’t handle this already? I haven’t even forced you to call me ‘Master’ yet.* Zhu Zhixi thought mischievously.

After a long pause, Fu Rangyi finally spoke softly, "You..."

"...are very clever. And a real menace."

Zhu Zhixi raised a brow. "You sure that’s a compliment?"

Two or three seconds later, the coerced man spoke again, this time in a voice barely louder than a breath.

"Very... pretty."

Zhu Zhixi froze. That was an answer he hadn’t expected. Pretty... beautiful—he’d heard those words since childhood and had long grown immune to them. But hearing them spill from this usually so cutting mouth was overkill.

Fu Rangyi lifted his gaze and asked softly, "Satisfied now?"

*I don’t know.* His heart thudded like a drum wildly. Zhu Zhixi wasn’t sure if it was because of those words or the sudden eye contact. He couldn’t tell.

*Am I really clever?*

*Then why am I so muddled right now?*

He cleared his throat and moved back slightly. The countdown had frozen again, no longer flashing. Yet his heart continued to thud relentlessly.

*Does this adenocarcinoma of mine come with arrhythmia as a side effect or something?*

"Tch... fine, you pass," he said, pretending to be unsatisfied but secretly taking deep breaths. Whether from inhaling too sharply or not, his stomach let out a deafening growl.

Zhu Zhixi flushed awkwardly, then looked up to find Fu Rangyi staring at his stomach. He quickly covered it. "I was—*ahem*—busy taking care of you yesterday. Barely ate anything, of course I’m hungry."

*And it was all exhausting work, too.*

Surprisingly, Fu Rangyi didn’t mock him. He said nothing, simply swinging his legs off the bed.

"Where are you going?" Zhu Zhixi bolted upright after him. "Lie down and rest. That’s an order."

"Making something to eat," Fu Rangyi replied.

"You can still cook?" Zhu Zhixi was doubtful of his stamina—after all, even *he* was exhausted. "Weren’t you just—"

Fu Rangyi paused at the doorway, glancing back at him. After a moment, he murmured, "If you don’t trust me, you can come with me."

*Who’s ordering whom now?*

Zhu Zhixi couldn’t cook at all—his only skill was nuking canned crap. But he felt too guilty to let Fu Rangyi go alone.

"Just bring your rope," he added, smirk audible. "You’re the one who said you’d tie me up on a whim, Supreme Alpha."

Sure enough, he'd recovered and reverted back to being a vindictive, sharp-tongued jerk.

"You said it yourself," Zhu Zhixi said as he picked up the recently stowed outdoor rope, swinging it while tailing him. "Don’t regret it when I tie you up later."

Fu Rangyi unexpectedly played along: "Mm, I won’t."

After both cleaned up briefly, they entered the kitchen together. Fu Rangyi grabbed the beige apron hanging on the wall, pulled it over his head, and reached back to tie the straps. But as soon as his hand moved behind him, his shoulder flared with pain. He paused for a moment, silent.

Just then, a pair of warm hands unexpectedly appeared behind him, naturally taking the straps from his grasp and tying them into a bow.

"I’m useless at most things, but tying and untying ropes? That’s my specialty." His voice was full of mischief.

Their fingers brushed unintentionally, parting quickly, yet fragmented memories surfaced in Fu Rangyi’s mind.

Flushed fingertips hooking onto a muzzle. Clutching sheets, blankets, tiles... and him.

Abruptly, he turned around, staring fixedly at Zhu Zhixi’s lowered hands.

"What’s wrong?" Zhu Zhixi blinked. "Too tight? Feels fine to me."

"No," Fu Rangyi shook his head.

Most likely, it was just lingering pheromone fluctuations causing some indecent thoughts.

Earlier, even the sight of a dropped duck toy had triggered similar symptoms.

He lowered his head to adjust his bracelet but unexpectedly noticed a faint circular mark on his hand—almost like… teeth marks.

And the two deepest imprints were right in the center, the others much shallower.

He raised his hand, examining the bite mark between thumb and finger, then glanced sideways at Zhu Zhixi, who was currently amused by a funny video.

Scan. Compare.

No doubt—it was him. Those two little front teeth were longer than the others, leaving deeper marks.

When had he bitten him?

He tried to recall, but his mind flooded with scenes of near asphyxiation-level intensity.

His heart pounded a few times. Fu Rangyi almost choked, clenching his fist to force himself back to reality.

Opening the fridge, he pulled out ingredients. As he opened the left freezer compartment, he suddenly remembered the stock of meal replacement drinks he’d bought before. Back then, with no one to care for him, he couldn’t cook when he fell ill, so these gave him quick calories. Though it tasted awful—some weird vanilla flavor—Zhu Zhixi would probably stomach it.

Worried Zhu Zhixi might get lightheaded from hunger, he considered heating some up as a quick snack.

He’d noticed long ago that this guy had irregular eating habits. Since the young master moved in, the stove had barely been used. He seemed the type who’d never cooked a meal in his life, often ordering takeout, with the microwave being his most-used kitchen gadget.

"Are you hungry now? If you are, cooking will take a while. Do you want…"

Digging through the freezer, he realized one of the three packs was missing.

A ghost of a voice echoed in his ears.

[It’s just nutrients. Not poisoned. Weren't you about to drink it earlier?]

[Suck.]

Suck.

Licking. Swirling. Gnawing. Clutching his chin, forcefully sucking the tongue, the soft flesh inside the mouth, the teeth...

He turned his head abruptly, staring dumbly. The kitchen had no door—it was open, divided into inner and outer sections by the island counter. Zhu Zhixi was now slouched on a breakfast stool outside the island, hands folded, chin resting on them.

When their eyes met, he tilted his head and smiled, revealing those two buck teeth, gleaming like damning evidence.

Those images felt too real. Not like a dream, or even... a fantasy.

He could even taste the sweetness in Zhu Zhixi’s mouth, and... the wet, plush feel.

He might not have been lying.

They really had kissed.

And it seemed... it didn’t stop there.

"I’m better now. That chocolate was really good, but you didn’t have any—only I ate it," Zhu Zhixi said, fingers swiping across his phone. "Huh? The frozen pizza I like has a new flavor."

Fu Rangyi was washing baby carrots and asparagus, his mind too chaotic to speak, but when he heard Zhu Zhixi say, "I should stock up a whole box," he couldn’t help but ask, "Why buy so much?"

"It’ll go fast," Zhu Zhixi lifted his head. "Besides, it’s really tasty. I used to buy this brand all the time in school—just toss it in the oven and it’s ready."

No arguing. No backtalk. Obey orders. Fu Rangyi repeated this to himself a few times.

But he still couldn’t hold back.

"You either eat takeout pizza or frozen pizza. Are you a pizza fiend?"

Zhu Zhixi, however, was dead serious, wagging an upright index finger. "No, I’m pizza-hearted."

"That’s not even funny," Fu Rangyi couldn’t quite hide his displeasure.

"Not being funny isn’t illegal. Even felons get meals," Zhu Zhixi pressed on. "I want it. I order you to clear out a freezer shelf for my fancy Parma ham thin-crust."

Fu Rangyi made space as instructed and proved the space was cleared, but took his phone away. "Don’t order yet. Help me rinse these."

Zhu Zhixi stood up. "Then say thank you."

"Thank you."

He sidled around the island, entering the kitchen, arms crossed. "Say, 'Please, Zhu Zhixi, help me rinse these.'"

Fu Rangyi parroted mechanically. "Please, Zhu Zhixi, help me rinse these."

He leaned in a little closer, tilting his small face, smirking wider. "Say, 'Zhu Zhixi, you’re so nice.'"

"Zhu Zhixi, you’re... so nice." Fu Rangyi’s mouth quirking slightly.

He inched forward a bit more, his chest almost pressing against Fu Rangyi, bossing him around thoughtlessly. "Say, 'Zhu Zhixi, you’re such a good ol’...'"

But he stopped. This teasing little devil suddenly tripped over his tongue, as if biting it.

Fu Rangyi pounced on the little tail he’d been wagging so freely.

"Good what?" He recalled Zhu Zhixi’s words. "Good ol’..."

"Good teacher!" Zhu Zhixi said, hopping on his toes to pat Fu Rangyi’s shoulder. "Student Fu, today we’re switching roles. I’m your teacher, and you’re my student."

"What could you possibly teach me?" Fu Rangyi instantly regretted asking.

Does that sound too arrogant?

He handed the phone back to Zhu Zhixi, first making sure to close the shopping app.

Zhu Zhixi took it without looking and deadpanned, "I can teach you happiness."

His pulse jumped noticeably.

Happiness.

What kind of happiness?

His not-yet-fully-recovered brain automatically provided answers—provided images.

Kissing. Holding hands. Caressing. Hugging. Skin-tight hugging. So tight it's hard to breathe. Kissing until they're both slick. Mouths open. Eyes rolling. Sliding in. Drawing out. Moaning his name between sobs...

"Fu Rangyi."

He snapped back to reality, even shooting Zhu Zhixi an alarmed look.

"I want mulled wine."

Zhu Zhixi finished washing the vegetables and wiped his damp hands on Fu Rangyi's apron, bossing him around, "Make it for me."

Fu Rangyi looked at the wet marks on the apron.

Had he always wiped his hands like this? Was he so without boundaries?

As he spoke, Zhu Zhixi took out his phone again: "I'll order a bottle now, have it delivered. Do we need any other ingredients?"

"Don't buy it."

As if expecting the refusal, Zhu Zhixi had a counter ready, immediately looking up with a pout: "Why won't you make it for me? This is an order." Another quick one-two.

Only then did Fu Rangyi realize he'd misunderstood.

In a low voice, he said, "The wine at home is much better. Go pick one yourself."

Zhu Zhixi perked up immediately, grinning as he ran to the wine cabinet.

When he returned, he tried to help in the kitchen again, but Fu Rangyi refused, saying he'd just get in the way, and handed him a small bowl of fruit yogurt that he'd apparently made earlier.

"For me?" Zhu Zhixi had brought his laptop, planning to work while he waited.

"Mhm, it'll go bad if you don't eat it soon."

Zhu Zhixi pouted, scooping a spoonful into his mouth.

It was obviously fresh.

In his line of sight, the sharp-tongued widower—apron on, glasses and muzzle in place—was diligently chopping vegetables. The incongruous combination had an oddly compelling visual charm.

How did he learn to cook? Coming from a family where even pouring water was done by servants, and as the firstborn, shouldn't he have been spoiled rotten?

Just like Zhu Zeran, who'd have someone dress him given half a chance.

Fu Rangyi quietly chopped and prepped, turned on the oven, set the temperature—measured and calm, far more controlled than in rut, yet not as aloof as his usual university professor self. The very image of domestic competence.

Zhu Zhixi gazed, mesmerized, before realizing how badly it was affecting his work efficiency and slipped away to the dining table.

He hadn't been working for long when Fu Rangyi whipped up an array of dishes: a salmon-veggie miso hotpot, grilled shrimp with baby carrots, and mulled wine (spiced wine), all arranged neatly on the dining table.

"Wow," Zhu Zhixi's eyes sparkled. "You're amazing."

Without hesitation, he ladled himself a large cup of mulled wine and was about to pour one for Fu Rangyi when he paused halfway and switched to hot water instead.

"You're not feeling well today, so Xiao Zhu won't make you drink with me. You can have water."

The heady scent of mulled wine filled the air, warming the entire table. The baby carrots and shrimp were lightly charred, arranged beautifully on the plate, looking totally mouthwatering. The little pot kept bubbling away as it was served.

"This looks like the food from Western cartoons I watched as a kid."

As soon as he said this, he looked up and was handed something even more whimsical—a pale yellow fairy wand spice shaker by Fu Rangyi.

"What's this for?" Zhu Zhixi froze for a second but accepted it reverently.

Fu Rangyi explained, "My taste buds go wonky during my rut. I’m not sure if the seasoning is enough. If it’s too bland, add more to taste."

Zhu Zhixi raised the "fairy wand" over the pot, shook it once, glanced at it, then shook it again.

"Huh? Did anything come out?" He peered closely. "Seems kinda broken… Why won’t the salt shake out?"

He noticed Zhu Zhixi suddenly fall silent—abruptly.

Not only that, his expression changed, and his ears visibly reddened.

I wanna pinch 'em.

Fu Rangyi was caught off guard by his own idea.

"So that’s what he meant back then…" Zhu Zhixi mumbled to himself, setting the wand aside.

He rubbed his nose, scratched his cheek, then picked up his cup and chugged half his spiced wine in one go.

"Why are you drinking so fast?"

"I… just wanted to," Zhu Zhixi put the cup down and licked his lips. "Got a problem with that?"

That tiny flick of his tongue lasted only a moment, but to Fu Rangyi, it felt weird.

As if those lips, that tongue, were licking *him*. The sensation replayed vividly in his senses.

(Deep breath.) Inhale. Exhale.

A *ding* snapped them back.

"What was that?" Zhu Zhixi asked, rubbing his ears. "More food?"

Fu Rangyi hummed in agreement, getting up to retrieve it. Soon, he returned with the final dish, removing his oven mitts and setting them aside.

Zhu Zhixi’s eyes widened—it was a prosciutto pizza, with a small crust but loaded with a ridiculous amount of ham, arugula, and cheese, enough to put a restaurant out of business if they dared sell it.

"When did you make this?" Zhu Zhixi gestured excitedly. "It’s so cute, a mini version!"

Fu Rangyi thought he was complaining about the size. "All yours."

Zhu Zhixi blinked, then grinned. "Then I’ll dig in?"

Fu Rangyi nodded, cutting him a slice.

Zhu Zhixi picked up a slice and took a satisfying bite, stretching a long cheese pull.

"Mmm! So good!" His cheeks puffed out as he munched. "Good thing we didn’t buy any—yours is way better than that frozen stuff."

Fu Rangyi felt a secret thrill. He watched motionlessly as Zhu Zhixi devoured the pizza, then picked up a baby carrot and nibbled it down like a bunny, working it until it vanished between his lips.

"Your cooking is amazing." He licked the corner of his mouth again, took a sip of wine, his lips now darker red and plumper than before.

How could just watching someone eat be so...

Fu Rangyi lowered his head, rubbed his temples, checked himself, and exhaled.

...It’s my problem.

He cranked his wristband to max, took off the mouthguard, and began eating as well.

Zhu Zhixi peeked at him between mouthfuls. Fu Rangyi seemed no different from usual—like he was completely over his rut, all cool and controlled, eating slowly and elegantly, never once meeting his eyes.

Not a single glance.

Even though just yesterday, he’d been stuck to him like glue.

The dining table was so quiet that only the clinking of cutlery remained, mingling with the rising steam before dissolving into the aroma of mulled wine.

Zhu Zhixi picked up a large piece of salmon, blew on it vigorously, and the steam curled toward Fu Rangyi’s face, nearly brushing his skin.

He stuffed it into his mouth with satisfaction, making those little smacking sounds that somehow weren’t annoying.

Then—*clank!*—Zhu Zhixi suddenly slammed his chopsticks down, clutching his throat as he doubled over coughing, his neck and face flushing instantly.

Fu Rangyi’s stomach dropped. He was at his side in a flash, bending down.

He knew Zhu Zhixi was prone to choking on fish bones—they’d talked about it, written about it, every line of the questionnaire memorized. While prepping, he’d painstakingly removed every single bone, checking three times.

How could he still be choking?

Did they need to go to the hospital?

"Stuck?" He reached out, lifting Zhu Zhixi’s chin with two fingers, wedging his thumb firmly against the corner of his mouth to open it. "Let me see."

But the next second, Zhu Zhixi—still splotchy from coughing—went perfectly still.

His mouth was clearly empty, no longer coughing. Only tears still glittering in his lashes remained, his nose and lips flushed a vivid red, hot and wet against Fu Rangyi’s fingers.

Fu Rangyi realized he’d been tricked. His shoulders relaxed as he withdrew his hand, expression shifting swiftly.

But just as he turned to leave, his wrist was caught again.

Zhu Zhixi, as always, blinked his innocent eyes, drawling in that sweet, wheedling tone. "Don’t be mad. It was too quiet… I just wasn’t used to it. Wanted to tease you a little."

Fu Rangyi studied the fingers locked around his wrist.

Perhaps from the alcohol, Zhu Zhixi’s hand was warmer than usual, his eyes slightly reddened, giving off that boozy, grape-skin warmth.

"Don’t joke about things like that."

"Okay." Zhu Zhixi nodded obediently, still not letting go. "So you’re not mad, right?"

He leaned forward, tilting his face up, his voice extra syrupy. "I hereby decree—no getting mad at me today."

Fu Rangyi withdrew his arm, returned to the opposite seat, and made a point not to meet his gaze.

That pink mouth kept dancing in his line of sight—chewing, drinking, taking big swigs—even if he didn’t look, it’d flash through his head, and his thoughts would involuntarily replace it with something way harder to ignore.

This was terrible.

How could an Alpha be susceptible to a Beta? It made zero biological sense.

After waiting a long time without an answer, Zhu Zhixi let out another giggle.

He seemed genuinely close to drunk, even daring to tap Fu Rangyi’s calf under the table with his slipper toe—light as a tickle.

“Fu Rangyi.” The little menace of a rabbit deliberately drew out his tone. “Follow orders~”

“I’m not angry.” Fu Rangyi stared at the fading marks on his hand, especially the two tiniest but deepest dents.

“Your order is invalid.”

Then he added, “Cut back. Don’t get wasted. I’m not completely out of my rut yet. Keep your guard up.”

“Huh? Oh…” Zhu Zhixi, muzzy, propped his face in his hands and nodded.

It seemed the warning came too late. Fu Rangyi studied him, confirming he was mostly drunk.

Should he… use his drunk state to get answers?

Did I really sleep with this troublemaking rabbit?

Sensing Fu Rangyi finally meeting his gaze, Zhu Zhixi also looked up, fixing him with glassy, pink-rimmed eyes, not blinking.

“Fu Rangyi, you… you…”

“Me what?” He was stammering now.

Zhu Zhixi stared at him, feeling like he might have—just maybe—tricked him this time.

Botching the fake fishbone gag had a reason—anyone would be startled having their mouth pried open like that. But pretending to be drunk…

He slurred through his ‘buzz’—or more accurately—dug for intel.

“That Omega we ran into at the mall… the really pretty one… is she actually your longtime crush?”

Author’s Note:

One tries to pry answers loose while the other pretends to be drunk to dig for intel—you two are truly a match made in mischief (in every way). Just don’t play too hard and end up crashing into the same ditch. Poetic.