Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Looking back through countless moments in the past, scouring his entire memory, there was never a time more awkward than now.

Honestly, He Xu had stripped in front of others before. His group of friends often wrestled or roughhoused, working up a sweat together, so showering together was nothing unusual.

They’d all strip naked, facing each other, and no one ever felt awkward.

Feelings of inadequacy were common—but they were always directed at him by others.

With a robust physique, firm muscles, and an impressive physique, his body oozed masculinity, making him the one who always made others uncomfortable in a crowd.

But right now, this situation was completely different from any before!

Not far from him, just a few steps away, was the person who had openly declared their love for him, the one who had pinned him against the wall and kissed him last night—a total gay.

And here he was, completely exposed from head to toe under the other’s gaze, his body covered in countless marks that looked suspicious.

At this moment, He Xu wanted to kill someone!

His face darkened and flushed, his body stiff as stone. Humiliated and furious, he snapped, “Turn around!”

“Oh.” Zhang Yu snapped out of his daze and quickly turned away.

He Xu strode to the dryer, yanked out his clothes, and had them all on in under three seconds—a speed rivaling a superhero's costume change.

Once dressed, his expression relaxed slightly, though he still looked pissed. “Why are you still here?”

Zhang Yu peeked out from behind the sofa, glanced at He Xu’s still-red ears, and smartly didn't mention it. “I was worried you might get a fever again.”

He Xu scoffed. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Because I like you,” Zhang Yu said like it was obvious.

That phrase again.

He Xu curled his lip. “Fine.”

Seeing him head for the door, Zhang Yu hopped off the sofa and followed him out of the hotel.

On the street.

He Xu shoved his hands in his pockets, pulled up his hoodie, and covered every trace on his body. He walked ahead, acting like Zhang Yu was invisible.

Zhang Yu tagged along, stepping on his shadow for a while before looking up and realizing they were in unfamiliar streets. He quickened his pace to catch up. “Aren’t you going to school?”

He Xu ignored him.

Zhang Yu asked a few more times before He Xu tsked in irritation and shot back, “Why aren’t you going?”

“I took the day off.” The system had put in for leave early that morning.

After that brief exchange, He Xu shut down again, refusing to answer no matter how Zhang Yu pressed.

Unfazed, Zhang Yu unleashed his natural persistence, barraging He Xu with endless questions like an inexhaustible question machine.

“He Xu, why aren’t you going to school? Do you not like studying?”

“He Xu, are you hungry?”

“He Xu, are you going home?”

“He Xu…”

“He Xu…”

He Xu: “…”

He had never hated hearing his own name so much!

Didn’t this guy ever get tired? His head was gonna explode!

He suddenly stopped dead, grabbed Zhang Yu’s collar, and snapped, “Shut up! Stop nagging!”

Zhang Yu blinked. “Oh.”

He Xu shoved him away.

Zhang Yu started to say something.

He Xu shot him a death glare.

Zhang Yu closed it again.

“Heh.” He suddenly chuckled.

He Xu’s face twitched. “What are you laughing at?”

Zhang Yu grinned at him. “You finally acknowledged me.”

He Xu: “…”

Was this guy insane?!

His lips moved as if to curse, but for some reason, he swallowed the words at the sight of Zhang Yu’s goofy smile. He turned away without a word and kept walking.

Zhang Yu, however, was thrilled. Heh, no one could say no to him, right? See, He Xu had stopped trying to shake him.

He bounced along behind the human, not caring where they were headed, his curly hair bobbing happily.

Until the person in front suddenly stopped dead, and tires screeched.

A silver-gray car came to a stop just inches away, its tires leaving light skid marks on the ground. The door was barely two steps away—any closer, and they would’ve gotten hit.

Zhang Yu had noticed the car speeding toward them two seconds earlier, his dark eyes narrowing sharply, going sharp and dangerous, radiating danger. But the moment he determined it wouldn’t actually hit them, he looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen anything.

Only after the car stopped did he “react,” pretending to be scared as he cautiously peered out from behind He Xu.

The driver’s window rolled down, revealing a young face. The man inside raised a hand and waved at He Xu, grinning innocently. “Bro, long time. Skipping class again?”

Bro? Zhang Yu blinked.

Wasn’t He Xu an only child? Where did this brother come from?

He glanced at He Xu, only to find him staring darkly at the other, not returning the smile.

When He Xu didn’t respond, the man waved again, what was on his wrist catching the sunlight and flashing in their faces.

Zhang Yu instinctively looked over and saw it was a watch—its strap and face a deep emerald green, with a silver-white frame embedded with countless tiny diamonds, dazzling in the sunlight.

The sea creature's eyes were instantly drawn, its tentacles twitching with desire.

So pretty. I want it.

Noticing their attention, the person in the car glanced at his wrist as if just realizing it, then turned the watch toward them, complaining in a petulant tone:

"Dad really doesn’t care about the family at all. A few days ago was my birthday, and I’d told him ages ago I wanted the latest Patek Philippe model. But he just pushed this outdated model on me, saying it was a limited edition already sold out, so he had to get someone else's canceled reservation. Disgusting—it’s been handled by someone else, and he still shoves it at me? I’m not a trash collector, right, Bro?"

After his rant, seeing He Xu still silent, he grinned again. "Oh yeah, Bro, I sent you a message that day too. Too bad we’re not friends, so I could only send a verification request. Did you see it? I bet you didn’t, otherwise you’d have come to the party that night."

He performed regret. "What a shame. It was my eighteenth birthday—so many uncles and family friends came. Dad wanted to introduce you to them, but since you didn’t show, he had to take me instead."

As he spoke, he studied He Xu’s expression. Seeing no reaction, his smile faltered slightly.

After a pause, he brightened again. "Oh, right, Bro, have you had your birthday this year yet? If not, remember to tell Dad what you want in advance, so he doesn’t just dump someone else’s castoffs on you… Oh, sorry, Bro, I forgot—your birthday’s the same day as mine. Dad was busy preparing my coming-of-age party that day, so he didn’t have time for you. My apologies."

He covered his mouth, pretending remorse, but his eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction, as if certain these words would sting.

And He Xu did, as expected, finally speak: "Done talking?"

His voice was flat. "Dong Feiyu, feeling proud?"

"Of course not!" Dong Feiyu said apologetically. "I spoke out of turn just now. Sorry, Bro, don’t be mad."

He Xu remained expressionless. "Want to know what I got? Fine. A watch. This year’s limited edition. Same brand as the one you're wearing. Just not sure if it’s the one you wanted."

Dong Feiyu’s smile froze.

He Xu smirked mockingly. "But I didn’t wear it. Threw it in the trash. If you want it, go dig through the dump. Might still be there."

Dong Feiyu forced a laugh. "Bro, what are you saying? You threw it away?"

"So what? Don’t you love taking other people’s leftovers?" He Xu sneered. "Other people’s trash, other people’s dad—you’ll take anything, huh? Calling you a trash collector is too generous. Wagging your tail at He Xiangnan all this time—got anything out of it? Met any chairmen? Secured any inheritance?"

Each question was a knife stabbing into Dong Feiyu’s heart. His smile vanished, his face darkening.

Now he actually looked a bit like He Xu, Zhang Yu mused silently, glancing between the two.

But He Xu was still better-looking.

He Xu’s parents might have had no love for each other, their marriage a hollow shell, but they never divorced. So Dong Feiyu’s mother could only be a mistress, and Dong Feiyu an illegitimate son—not even under He Xu’s father’s household register, bearing his mother’s surname instead. No legitimacy, no rightful claim to inheritance.

And because his looks leaned toward his mother’s delicate features, He Xiangnan wasn’t particularly fond of him, even stingy with his allowance.

He Xu’s mother was the same.

Though their marriage was purely business, with no affection for each other—or even for He Xu—they were united in one belief: their shared bloodline, He Xu, would inherit everything.

Even though He Xu couldn’t be bothered, as he came of age, many assets had already been transferred to his name, managed by professionals. All he had to do was collect dividends.

Living it up, money poured in effortlessly. No need to grovel, no need to perform for anyone’s favor.

But Dong Feiyu? He had to fight, to scheme, to claw for what should’ve been his. How could he not burn with envy?

It filled his heart with bitter resentment.

So despite his mother’s repeated warnings to stay away from He Xu, he couldn’t resist. Any chance to provoke, he took.

Seeing this attempt about to fail again, Dong Feiyu gritted his teeth, desperately searching for another angle.

His gaze shifted to Zhang Yu behind He Xu, about to speak—then suddenly stalled, eyes widening slightly as if spotting something.

"?" Zhang Yu blinked, following his stare down at himself.

When he looked up again, Dong Feiyu wore a smug grin. "Bro, this your new lackey? Doesn't look like any lackey to me."

He tapped his own neck suggestively. "The bruises here haven't faded yet. Don't tell me... you put them there, Bro?"

He Xu’s expression darkened instantly.

He Xu's temper was legendary.

And people with tempers were easily provoked.

Anyone who crossed him usually ended up beaten—once, twice, or thrice.

Having been punched himself on first meeting, Zhang Yu had, over these days of close contact, learned to read He Xu’s moods.

Right now, He Xu was clearly displeased.

But in Zhang Yu’s view, it wasn’t because of Dong Feiyu’s words—but because they reminded He Xu why he’d choked Zhang Yu in the first place.

In other words, he’d just recalled being dragged off by a monster at the KTV last night, with Zhang Yu as a witness.

Irritating, but not rage-inducing.

Dong Feiyu, however, didn’t know that. He thought he’d finally found He Xu’s pressure point.

His eyes deliberately darted between them—lingering pointedly on the bruise on Zhang Yu’s neck, then the split in He Xu’s lip—before smirking:

"Just kidding. Like Bro would ever go for guys. This guy probably just caught his neck by mistake, right? I hope the rest of you isn't marked up too. Better get some bruise cream, or people might get the wrong impression."

Dong Feiyu paused, tone heavy with insinuation. "I think Dad has some medicine for that. Want me to get it for you, Bro…?"

His feigned concern went unnoticed as He Xu’s scowl deepened.

Or rather, he noticed—and was deliberately needling him.

Zhang Yu looked at him with pity.

Despite his smugness, Zhang Yu had only been choked once. The bruise was just simulated pigmentation.

The one truly marked up—neck, limbs, everywhere—was He Xu.

Dong Feiyu thought he was taunting He Xu, even threatening him, aiming to infuriate him into helpless rage.

He had no idea every word was stomping on He Xu’s landmines, one after another, until the already short fuse finally blew.

A sudden BANG cut Dong Feiyu off, making him jump.

Before he could react, his collar was yanked with brutal force, hauling him halfway out the window!

Dong Feiyu had parked aggressively close to intimidate them—now it backfired.

He Xu didn’t even need to step forward. One long stride, one outstretched arm, and he’d dragged Dong Feiyu right through the window.

Muscles stood out in his forearm, grip vise-like on the collar, he pulled until half of Dong Feiyu’s upper body was hanging outside, stopping just before dragging him completely out.

Dong Feiyu was instantly terrified out of his wits, screaming, "He Xu, what do you think you're doing?! If you dare hit me, I'll go tell Father you're gay! Let me go right now! You hearing me?!"

He threw his head back desperately, clinging to the car door in an attempt to shrink inside, but he couldn't move an inch. The hand fisted in his shirt was like a vise, rendering him powerless no matter how hard he struggled.

Zhang Yu quietly took two steps back, thinking to himself.

*Tch, this human is really stupid. Still talking like that at a time like this.*

He decided to keep his distance, lest blood splatter on him.

Sure enough, the moment Dong Feiyu finished speaking, a fist slammed hard into his face.

Dong Feiyu let out a shriek, his head snapping to the side, blood immediately trickling from the corner of his mouth. But He Xu didn’t stop. The same fist that had dented the car roof was raised again and brought down with brutal force—once, twice, three times…

Only when Dong Feiyu could no longer form a coherent sentence, reduced to sobbing and begging for mercy, did He Xu finally release him, tossing him back into the car.

By then, Dong Feiyu’s face was a bloody mess, swollen and bruised, looking nothing like his pristine appearance just minutes ago.

Zhang Yu tutted, shaking his head as he eyed the man now covered in tears and snot, then took another step back in disgust.

The moment he was back in the car, Dong Feiyu clambered desperately toward the passenger seat, as if desperate to crawl under it. If not for the fear that stepping out would make him an easier target, he probably would’ve abandoned the car and fled by now.

He must have been completely confused, unable to comprehend why a few words had enraged He Xu to this extent. He’d said far worse things before, yet He Xu had never reacted like this.

He Xu let out a harsh breath, shaking out his hand.

The exertion had worked up a light sweat, and the pent-up anger that had weighed on him since last night had dissipated somewhat.

He lowered his eyelids, giving Dong Feiyu a withering look inside the car, then rested his hand on the window frame.

Dong Feiyu flinched hard, shrinking even further into his seat.

He Xu snorted, his expression full of contempt. "Since you love applying medicine so much, go home and do it yourself. With all those marks on your face, you’ll have enough to keep you busy for days."

Dong Feiyu covered his face, not daring to speak.

He Xu added with a sneer. "If you want to tell He Xiangnan I’m gay, go ahead. But remember this—don’t ever come crawling back to me again. Next time I see you, I’ll pound you the moment I see you."

"And one more thing," he leaned in slightly, locking eyes with Dong Feiyu, enunciating each word deliberately, "don’t call me 'big brother.' My surname is He. Yours is Dong. You’re not worthy."

"Get the hell out."

The silver car peeled out, vanishing down the street in the blink of an eye.

He Xu shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around, only to meet Zhang Yu’s wide-eyed stare.

*Scared him, huh?*

He met Zhang Yu’s gaze impassively, unsurprised.

This pretty boy had been jumpy as a rabbit since they first met. Though he occasionally showed unexpected boldness, when it came to violent confrontations, he was the type to cry at the drop of a hat. It was only natural that He Xu beating Dong Feiyu would frighten him.

A second later, He Xu averted his eyes and started to walk away.

*So what if he’s scared? Not my problem. If he runs off, even better—one less headache.*

But the moment he took a step, his sleeve was tugged lightly.

"He Xu…" A hesitant voice sounded beside him.

He Xu ignored it.

The sleeve was tugged again, the voice firmer this time. "He Xu."

He Xu clicked his tongue and stopped, irritation lacing his tone. "The hell you want?"

Zhang Yu stepped in front of him, still gripping his sleeve. "You just hit someone…"

He trailed off, seeming uncertain.

He Xu’s brow arched. *What now? Is this kid about to lecture me? Pushing his luck?*

After a pause, Zhang Yu seemed to work up his courage, tugging harder on He Xu’s sleeve to pull his hand out of his pocket. "When you hit him just now… did you hurt your hand?"

Yes, he was sure he’d smelled it—not Dong Feiyu’s blood, but the far more familiar scent of He Xu’s.

He Xu froze, his grip slackening just enough for Zhang Yu to pull his hand free and cradle it in both of his, inspecting it carefully.

"There’s a little cut here, like from a tooth… and this spot’s bruised. You must’ve hit the car too hard…"

The curlyhaired boy muttered to himself, his messy curls shimmering in the sunlight. His pale hands held He Xu’s, fingertips gliding lightly over the skin, occasionally brushing against it with barely-there touches—ticklish.

He Xu’s throat worked, and he averted his gaze uncomfortably, pulling his hand back. "It’s nothing. Just a scratch."

A little broken skin would heal in a couple of days.

"How can you say that?" Zhang Yu glared at him, displeased, and snatched his hand back. "What if it gets infected?"

After He Xu’s fever last time, Zhang Yu had looked into human physiology. He knew humans were fragile—things like bleeding or infections could cause serious harm, even death, if left unchecked.

That was why, after last night’s mating, he’d hung around instead of leaving like before. It had been too rough, and he’d injured He Xu. He was afraid the wounds might worsen unnoticed, leading to sudden death.

But it was fine. The nutritional eggs he’d left behind must’ve already healed the internal injuries. This hand wound would be easy to fix!

He Xu’s eyebrows shot up at the glare.

*Hah? This brat dares to glare at me now? Getting bold again, huh?*

He was about to fake some anger to teach the little curlyhaired punk a lesson when Zhang Yu suddenly lowered his head over He Xu’s hand.

The next second, a hot, slick swipe spread across his knuckles.

He Xu shuddered violently, pushing Zhang Yu back and staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost, jerking his hand away. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Zhang Yu staggered back a step, baffled. "Treating your wound."

"Who the hell treats wounds like that?! You—" He Xu choked, his face flushing crimson before he finally forced the words out through gritted teeth, "The fuck was that lick for?!"

Zhang Yu looked genuinely puzzled. "I was healing you. My saliva works really well."

Hadn’t the two little marks on He Xu’s chest, and the torn skin on his tail from mating, healed quickly because of his saliva?

He Xu’s face went stormy, his jaw clenched. "I don’t need it! It’ll fix itself."

He turned to leave.

*Damn it! Almost forgot this guy’s a creep who wants me. It’s all because he has that innocent face—dropped my guard for a second, and he takes advantage.*

Zhang Yu freaked out, running after him to grab his hand again. "It really works, trust me… Stop dodging!"

Recalling the soft, slippery sensation from earlier, He Xu shuddered again as he dodged, walking even faster, his steps so quick he was practically flying.

"I said no need! Stay away from me! You freaking gay!"

"Why are you driving me away again? We were cool a second ago! Hey! Quit pulling away—your hand’s bleeding again!"

"Let go! I told you to let go! I don’t need your treatment! Stay the hell away from me!!!"

"Hey, stop dodging! Slow down, don’t run! He Xu? He Xu?? He Xu!"