Chapter 46

Chapter 46

On the day of his departure.

Qi Jing had already waved goodbye, but then turned back, a look of confusion on his face as he asked,

“I still want to ask about that thing.”

The young man tilted his head slightly, his eyes behind the mask showing a hint of bewilderment. “What thing?”

“Sex.”

“…”

Jiang Xiuyuan’s fingers went numb, his ring finger still bearing a faint tooth mark. His face flushed instantly.

But of all people, it had to be Qi Jing.

“You want to?”

He asked tentatively.

The boy lowered his eyelids slightly, his expression innocent as he processed the meaning, then nodded.

He wanted to try.

“Then how far have you gotten?”

Jiang Xiuyuan seemed to think discussing this at the doorway wasn’t ideal. He reached out, pulled Qi Jing inside, handed him a mask, then bent down to retrieve an alcohol spray.

*Pssst—*

The boy sat upright, just as earnest as when he sought advice at the club, lifting his gaze to Jiang Xiuyuan. “He kisses me… will kiss me.”

“Will help me—”

The moment the word starting with “Z” slipped out, the young man’s face turned crimson, and he couldn’t help but raise a hand to interrupt.

“Alright, alright, I get it.”

The Chinese are conservative. Even those who frequent certain websites might blush at certain words in real life.

Moderately open.

Moderately restrained.

The reticent Chinese, who have nonetheless produced a population of 1.4 billion.

Jiang Xiuyuan sat by the sofa, trying to maintain an objective and calm demeanor. “You’re still quite young. President Bo actually has your best interests at heart.”

“…”

He couldn’t maintain his composure himself—how had he ended up like this?

“So… what do you want?”

The boy simply lowered his chin, keeping his emotions to himself, yet firm in his own thoughts.

“Want to try.”

Practice yields true knowledge.

Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.

“Let me think… then how about this…”

*

Around four or five in the morning.

The bedside lamp in the master bedroom cast a warm yellow glow, the dark-colored sheets contrasting with a pale leg protruding from beneath the blanket.

Bo Chengyan held it gently, massaging softly.

Tear stains still marked Qi Jing’s cheeks as he slept curled up, his body half-sunk into the edge of the bed.

His ankle twitched.

Bo Chengyan lifted his gaze, his grip unwavering. The person on the bed remained asleep.

Still asleep.

Like a sudden storm, it shattered the carefully constructed walls of his mind, leaving devastation in its wake.

In his dream, Qi Jing tossed and turned, his breath stifled, as if drowning in the sea. He thought he would suffocate.

But no—the water seemed to engulf his entire body, coiling around him.

Unable to move.

He let out a soft whimper.

Only then did the boy wake, his chin pressed against the other’s shoulder. The moment he tried to shift, Bo Chengyan spoke.

“Don’t move.”

A cool, soothing sensation spread near his hips—medicated cream.

Qi Jing’s eyes were still wet, his brows knitted in pain as he tried to part his legs. It hurt.

His skin felt raw, as if it had been chafed.

Before long, an arm wrapped around his waist, effortlessly shifting him into a new position, his calves dangling, his ankles bearing faint marks.

His lips were swollen, his voice hoarse as he watched his knees being pressed apart.

The memories came flooding back.

Instinctively, he tried to squeeze them shut.

Bo Chengyan hesitated momentarily before speaking gently, “Open.”

The person in his arms shrank back, lifting his gaze. Soft, shallow breaths brushed against his Adam’s apple.

Warm. Damp.

“That’s enough.”

Qi Jing was inexperienced, unaware that too much release was unhealthy—and he had no restraint whatsoever.

His legs just quivered weakly. “Just medicine.”

Qi Jing paused, then understood, his ears flushing red as his arms remained slung over the man's shoulders.

He obediently spread his knees apart.

Didn't even need coaxing.

Every move he made seemed to dance along Bo Chengyan’s last nerve.

“It’s not like this in the videos.”

The youth in his arms lifted his guileless face to ask, his voice laced with disappointment.

“Why is it different?”

Seeing no reaction, Qi Jing artlessly craned his neck and pressed a kiss to the other's chin.

Like a creature seeking comfort.

“Not yet.”

Qi Jing heard this phrase again and sulked, raising a hand to push at the other's shoulder, only for his wrist to be snagged mid-air.

“What’s with the attitude?”

Bo Chengyan frowned, staring down at the youth in his arms, whose inky hair spilled over as he tried to pull his fingers free.

His strength was pitifully weak.

Finally, eyes glistening, he looked up.

Qi Jing: “Am not!”

[He doesn’t like me at all.]

Bo Chengyan paused, but in that brief moment of distraction, the youth actually broke free.

He reeled toward the edge.

As expected, Qi Jing lost his balance entirely—until an unrelenting arm pulled him back.

His thighs were parted insistently.

As if to confirm some unspoken truth.

…

Qi Jing was led to bathe again. Bo Chengyan helped him into sleepwear, one arm wrapped around him, though a crease formed between his brows.

His phone screen displayed Lin Se’s contact.

Perhaps he should ask why a boy this age might lack a sense of security.

But just before dialing, he changed his mind.

Instead, he opened a search page.

When Qi Jing woke in the morning, he found his mouth held open, his teeth being thoroughly scrubbed inside and out.

He worked the fingers loose and pushed at the arm.

Bo Chengyan’s gaze was dark as he held him in the bathroom, asking expressionlessly, “Who taught you to push me away?”

Those wide, innocent eyes showed no trace of fear.

He had been pampered beyond reason.

“I want to brush my teeth myself.”

His voice was petulant but fearless.

As if he already knew the other would yield.

Back in high school, Qi Jing had made a habit of applying face cream—essential for a kept beauty, according to the manual.

One had to maintain an immaculate presentation.

After washing his face, the youth gazed vacantly at his reflection: red-rimmed eyes, a neck dusted with bruises.

Ruined.

Not… not pretty at all.

Just as he turned his head, his neck was pinned. Bo Chengyan was indeed tall, effectively trapping him against the sink.

The Adam’s apple was a piece of cartilage.

A rough finger traced slow circles, making it impossible not to swallow.

Qi Jing fisted in the fabric of the other’s shirt, lips parting slightly.

The hand slid up his neck, insinuating past his lips like a lever prying his teeth apart.

Bo Chengyan’s eyes darkened. “Be good.”

“Let me see.”

Qi Jing was perched on the counter, opening his mouth obediently—perfectly aligned teeth.

A soft tongue lying docile inside.

“Do I have cavities?”

The youth closed his mouth and queried with childlike seriousness, innocent and calm.

“No.”

Qi Jing immediately latched onto the other, playing helpless, oblivious to danger, perpetually needy.

The storm clouds in Bo Chengyan’s gaze dissipated as he lifted him down, a sunny voice chiming in his ear.

“So when will you?”

*

Qi Jing truly felt unmoored, especially after the trip to Province Z, where he had been subjected to the crude transaction of “gifting people.”

The woman’s perfume on the collar.

The girl propelled ahead from behind.

There would always be those scrambling to curry favor.

Whether voluntary or forced.

Bo Chengyan was never short of beautiful people around him, regardless of gender or age. Would he ever feel anything for them?

Qi Jing sometimes wondered if he had truly been lucky, living a life he'd never even imagined before.

But would good luck last forever?

How long would it last?

The boy sat at the desk, zoning out during the online lecture on his computer, just thinking—well, at least he was doing alright.

He had missions to run. The person in Hong Kong was managing his assets for him, all from playing the sweet, helpless role…

Qi Jing pressed his lips together, trying to convince himself.

It was what he deserved.

As for the Bo family…

Qi Jing was just confused. He liked him, so why could they never take that final step?

He was male. No risk of pregnancy.

He didn’t want to reach a point where Bo Chengyan no longer liked him, and they still hadn’t slept together.

Qi Jing lowered his chin, digging his nails into his palms in frustration.

Like he was missing out.

Just then, a blue blob toting a mini backpack appeared on the desk, looking dead on its feet.

Qi Jing hadn’t seen it in a long time. “996?”

“Alright, alright! Once the lead character gets through that plot point, we’re home free!”

The boy reached out to untie the little bundle from 996 and found some nostalgic milk candies inside. He hesitated—then peeled the wrapper off one.

“Can you eat this now?”

“I brought it for you.”

Qi Jing froze, his glassy eyes reflecting the jiggly blue companion.

“Take it, kiddo.”

Why did even his damn system baby him?

Sometimes, the boy was genuinely puzzled. He was already an adult, legally an adult.

Yet it still felt like he was being protected.

The milk candy crunched before melting into creamy sweetness.

Qi Jing rested his cheek in his palm and poked 996 with his fingertip. “I owe you for this life.”

“The hell?”

“Without you, I wouldn’t have met him.”

His lucky break… came from this glitchy system?

But back then, his skull felt split open. Qi Jing frowned, recalling—it probably when their connection first synced. After that, 996 popped into his HUD.

“What do you mean by ‘plot point’? And what does ‘being free’ mean?”

996 had no choice but to explain everything it had been doing during this time—from recording the Bo women’s catfights at the old mansion, to sampling street vendor fa gao.

It hadn’t forgotten to stalk Ruan Hang’s rise, who had made it big in Shanghai.

In short, the world was programmed to balance itself. The protagonists were just glitchy outliers—they needed their drama before stabilizing.

“What do I need to do?”

“It’s simple. Just keep him stable. Once we get past the Macau old mansion plot point, this story branch wraps.”

Qi Jing felt dazed. The word “over” hit him like a dropped controller. He cupped 996 in his hands.

Suddenly, he remembered the person in Hong Kong.

“After you complete your mission, how does he live with himself?”

If one stayed with the system for too long, they would lose touch with the real world, leading to a sense of dissociation.

Anxiety chewed at him.

“He said: ‘Game over just means respawn.’”

The script glitched immediately.

The weather gradually warmed, the rains faded, and the city dried out and went back to normal.

At four in the morning.

*

Bo Chengyan bent down to speak to him. “I have a business trip to Macau. I’ll be back in three days. You don’t have to attend the school’s military training—I called in sick for you.”

“Stay put and recharge, got it?”

The boy bolted upright in bed, reaching out groggily. Bo hauled him close.

The hug ended too soon.

“I want to go with you.”

Puppy-dog eyes in full effect.

“No.”

First outright rejection.

The boy froze like a buffering screen.

Bo Chengyan frowned, itching to stay, but he steeled himself and walked out. Macau’s a snake pit—no room for vulnerabilities.

Besides, he needed to maintain a positive image.

Everything seemed smooth.

But just before boarding, the location tracker on the wristband went dead.

There was a message from Jinjiang Villa.

— Sir, I went to deliver the meal but didn’t see Xiao Jing in the room. Is he with you?