Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Qi Jing slept until 4:30 p.m. The room was dimly lit when he pushed himself up to sit.

He looked around.

No one.

An emptiness settled over him, as if the world had abandoned him.

The boy’s bangs drooped slightly, his face a mask of confusion. He sluggishly tried to get up and find someone.

He was so tired.

Why was he so tired?

Even shifting his calves from the middle of the bed to the edge was an effort; they ached and tingled.

He couldn't help but purse his lips.

His eyes welled up with tears.

He was just… unhappy.

Just then, the door opened.

Qi Jing lifted his gaze, and his unhappiness eased. When he saw the figure approaching, he tilted his head up to watch.

He didn't speak.

He simply reached out a hand and was lifted into an embrace.

The broad shoulders and back felt secure, a faint, mature woody scent emanating from them. The boy nestled in earnestly, his eyes still red-rimmed.

"Awake?"

Bo Chengyan’s voice was magnetic, steady yet subtly commanding.

Qi Jing let out a soft "Mm," but buried his cheek deeper into the other’s neck, his voice thick and clingy.

His eyelids drooped shut again.

Like an unweaned kitten.

But then again, he wasn't exactly worldly.

Dinner was served downstairs. The housekeeper had prepared many sweet dishes, just how Qi Jing liked them.

The nutritional meals were back on track.

Bo Chengyan, being older, didn't particularly enjoy such meals, usually humoring him.

The decor of Jinjiang Villa was meticulously designed.

Plenty of plants and bright windows—this helped create a stable living environment, good for a teen’s mental health.

Especially in the past two years.

Qi Jing didn't have a big appetite. He was a bit finicky but never wasteful, stopping once he'd cleared what was in his bowl.

Just like now.

With a slender wrist, he nudged the bowl aside before slowly sipping his vegetable juice—about 250 milliliters.

Sweet, but with a strange, cloying sweetness.

"I'm finished."

He didn't want any more.

The boy looked down and realized he wasn't wearing shoes, then glanced up at Bo Chengyan.

His voice muffled, he said, "I'll walk by myself. I didn't bring my shoes. Can you get them for me?"

He was probably embarrassed.

Qi Jing considered himself a legal adult now.

Being carried around made him feel childish.

Even if it was at home.

But would the housekeeper judge him?

His hands lay limp against the chair as he peered toward the empty kitchen. He turned his head again.

Looking for someone.

"Walk by yourself?"

The man’s voice was level, giving nothing away.

Bo Chengyan rubbed his fingertips, unfazed by the boy’s bossiness, and just said mildly,

"Can you?"

The downstairs was silent.

Qi Jing’s pajama buttons, too tight, had come undone on the stairs, now showing faint red marks along his collarbone.

The boy froze for a moment.

He didn't understand the tone behind those words.

Couldn't read it.

He mulled it over briefly.

"I can."

His voice came out rough, and when he parted his lips slightly, the pink of his mouth showed.

He didn't recognize it as flirtatious teasing.

To prove himself, he even tried setting his bare feet down.

The floor was cold, with no rug beneath him.

Just as he was about to do so, a shadow fell over him, and fingers closed lightly around his elbow.

"Hmm..."

Qi Jing looked up, his palms sliding a few times before struggling to grip the other's shirt.

"Bo Chengyan."

His voice was flat.

His waist was suddenly pulled up, and before he could react, the base of his thighs was lifted, held steadily in place.

"To the bed."

Qi Jing's chin even bumped slightly, bewildered.

On the bed?

*

With that kind of pounding, even mochi could be pounded into shape.

Let alone sex.

The mess was already too much.

Not that the boy could tell.

As usual, Bo Chengyan carried him to the bathroom, and by the time they were completely finished cleaning up, the boy's entire face had gone pale.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

"Why can't I walk?"

"You pinched me? I didn’t know I had so many marks—they look scary in the mirror."

"You can't—"

His voice was pouty, like a kindergarten child’s complaint.

"Can't what?"

Qi Jing’s calf was still in the other’s palm, the warm touch making him flush, his ears turning red.

"I still have school..."

Bo Chengyan stood and pulled him into his arms, placing him naturally in his lap, speaking calmly, "We're not doing it daily."

[*Every day... I’d be wrecked.*]

[*That’s even scarier than in those videos.*]

Qi Jing thought quietly, watching his calf in Bo Chengyan’s grip, trying to wiggle free.

But it was pulled right back.

A calm voice sounded by his ear.

"What kind of videos have you watched?"

Qi Jing lifted his gaze, wondering if this was a test.

He was an adult—why was this being questioned?

His face burned.

"There are toys, every position..."

"It’s normal. I think all adults watch it."

Qi Jing looked up, his clear eyes completely open.

Pure yet dirty.

As if realizing belatedly, the boy stammered, "No way... I can't."

Theory and practice were completely different.

Sex ed videos were one thing, but porn's so over-the-top.

Qi Jing’s earlobes turned red, and in the end, like an ostrich hiding, he pressed his cheek against the other’s shoulder, his breath warming the man’s throat.

His calf was held tightly.

"Mhm."

A few seconds passed.

Damp eyes looked over.

Like some small animal, he hesitantly asked,

"Did I... do okay?"

The sound of lips and teeth colliding filled the air, sensation overriding everything else.

A kiss was the simplest form of intimacy.

*

Peking University’s military training usually lasted weeks, and Qi Jing still had a few days of free time left. But even as he lay around, he finally realized something.

Did he research me?

The boy flipped over, propping himself up on his elbows against the pillow, miserably remembering what he’d said to Shen Nanzhi.

He’d said he didn’t plan on getting married.

What was her reaction?

The memory came flooding back.

"You’ve never considered it?" The woman had seemed incredulous before muffling a laugh.

At first, it was quiet.

Then it grew louder, as if she’d heard the best joke.

In the end, Shen Nanzhi smiled, eyes crinkling, and asked, "Does A Yan know?"

As if it was ridiculous.

The dominant one had caught feelings.

But it wasn’t an option...

Qi Jing felt uneasy at that moment.

He didn’t want Bo Chengyan to know.

The teen buried his face in the pillow, frustrated and bewildered—marriage... did he really have to?

He turned over again, the marks on his collarbone hadn’t fully faded.

A lifetime.

What a terrifying word.

Social media trashed marriage. Qi Jing’s glassy eyes stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Until a blue slime suddenly appeared.

Its beady eyes blinked rapidly.

"Xiao Jing—"

It sounded full of grievance.

996 had been kept at bay for two whole days, the whole system moping, like a kid missing its mom.

It hovered around him a few times.

"Why do I feel like your health points dropped by two bars?"

The boy tilted his head and sat up, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You look... exhausted."

"......"

Qi Jing suddenly felt uneasy, unable to speak for a long while, fingers picking at the blanket.

The weather was gradually cooling, and the light blanket was perfect.

The bedroom was scented, a cozy atmosphere.

"It’s not about physical stamina, but your stats..."

"Looks like part got lopped off?"

Worried, 996 asked, "Do you feel anything unusual?"

The boy shook his head.

It was a dead-end check.

Neither the boy nor the system thought about the possibility of an "inner voice."

Eventually, they got back on track.

"Qing Shi asked me to tell you—you need to start thinking about the assets in Hong Kong. He plans to hand them over to you after graduation."

"He suggests you might... take pointers from the male lead."

"And think about your future plans."

That seemed way ahead.

At least during high school, Qi Jing had never thought about such things.

Back then, his plan was simple: get into college, save enough money, rent a place, and become a civil servant.

A steady office job.

Simple and stable.

But now, his life had gone completely off-script, far from his original plan. "Living in the moment" was Qi Jing’s coping mechanism.

But life was a marathon, not a sprint.

New challenges would come.

It hit Qi Jing then—he’d barely thought about the future. He felt lost.

"Xiao Jing?"

The boy jolted back to attention, his clear eyes gazing blankly as he said earnestly, "I’ll give it real thought."

*

Life wasn’t just about the present—there was the nostalgic past and the imagined future.

It was made of three parts, all essential.

Qi Jing paced his bedroom, hesitating. Should he just ask Bo Chengyan directly?

It was the obvious move.

He acted as his guardian, calling most of the shots—equal parts caring and controlling.

Qi Jing had already opened his phone contacts, but he backed out, cheeks burning.

For some reason.

The boy felt embarrassed, a flicker of defiance stirring in him. Like facing a difficult problem, he didn’t want to ask the teacher but would rather ask a peer.

Would Bo Chengyan think he’s needy?

Think he was too high-maintenance.

Why did he have to teach everything?

Qi Jing bit his lip. But he was clueless about managing assets—it all looked... way over his head.

Career plans?

What job should he pursue?

996 had had enough and offered a suggestion: "Everyone’s experiences are different. Why not find someone in a similar spot to ask first?"

"If you’re too afraid to ask... the male lead."

That stung.

Qi Jing straightened up and said firmly, "No, he... he had to go to work today. He was running late this morning, so I... I can always ask him another time."

"Mhm."

Like he was convincing himself.

*

But honestly, it was hard to keep things bottled up until tomorrow.

It felt like a pebble lodged uncomfortably in his chest, neither here nor there.

Besides, Qi Jing had never been one to let worries pile up. By lunchtime, he couldn’t hold back anymore and finally asked.

Though his audience this time was the auntie.

—"Career? Because I love cooking. I won a few trophies in culinary competitions when I was younger, but that was boring, Xiao Jing. It felt like showing off, a waste of ingredients."

—"Later, I worked at a high-end restaurant, but the workplace politics there were terrible—even sexism. Still, I managed to oust that incompetent head chef."

Qi Jing listened intently, completely absorbed. What an amazing life story.

—"But the restaurant wasn’t great either. I originally loved cooking because food brings people joy, but the place was too quiet, mostly just business meetings. Hardly anyone actually enjoyed the meals."

—"Not to mention, the kitchen ingredients weren’t fresh. Expensive prices, but cheap quality. So, Xiao Jing, be careful about eating out."

The boy blinked, then nodded solemnly.

—"Still curious? Later, I ended up getting married and having kids. Maybe it was a whim after meeting the right person, or maybe I just wanted to see if it was as 'wonderful' or as 'terrible' as people said. So I did it."

Qi Jing felt something strike a chord with him.

His eyes lit up with interest.

The auntie smiled.

—"In the end, it wasn’t as bad as some claim, nor as perfect as older people claim it is. I have a caring husband and a lovely daughter."

—"Later, as luck would have it, I found this job. The employer said he needed someone to raise a child—someone who'd pay close attention."

Her words carried hidden meaning.

Her gaze settled on him, her pretty face softening.