Chapter 34

Chapter 34

"Morning, Butler Jiang!"

"Good morning, Ah Meng." Jiang Yao walked through the corridor, carrying the freshly tailored suit he had prepared for Shen Mo overnight, beginning his day's work.

Jenny was already awake, showing her age as she stood under the corridor, looking out. When she spotted Jiang Yao, she called out to him, "Butler Jiang."

Jiang Yao stopped, standing tall and straight. "Housekeeper Jenny."

Jenny asked, "Where were you last night?"

"I took Master Jerry out for a while," Jiang Yao replied with a smile, his eyes curving into crescents, though his lips remained unsmiling.

Jenny's expression was stern. This was Jiang Yao's first reprimand since his employment. "Butlers manage households. Even if something major happens to your family, you should not leave without permission. You must understand—your job is to guard this house."

"My apologies, Jenny. It won't happen again," Jiang Yao said sincerely.

Jenny nodded. "As punishment, I will dock half a month's pay from you."

Jiang Yao: "I have no objections."

Jenny gestured, signaling that Jiang Yao could leave. He turned away, his eyes already carrying a faint smile. It wasn’t until he reached the third floor and knocked on Shen Mo’s door that the forced smile finally vanished.

"You're here." Inside the bedroom, Shen Mo leaned against the headboard, disheveled. Two empty wine bottles lay beside him, the glass toppled over on the bed, leaving stains on the sheets.

It seemed he hadn’t slept at all since returning last night—dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, still in his thin sleep robe, having sat at the foot of the bed all night in silence.

Jiang Yao hung the freshly sewn and dried suit in Shen Mo’s wardrobe. When he turned around, the shadow-eyed man was silently watching him.

"What is it, sir?" Jiang Yao asked with a smile.

Shen Mo: "Who let you in?"

Just moments ago, this man had said, "You're here"—as if he had been waiting for him. And now, these words.

Jiang Yao raised his hand, gently brushing through Shen Mo’s hair. The latter narrowed his eyes slightly, his expression softening—only to tense again as a sharp tug at his roots made him wince.

The slight pain forced him to tilt his head back, exposing his prominent Adam’s apple, the stubble that had grown overnight, and the exhaustion beneath his eyes—giving Shen Mo a disheveled, almost tragic beauty.

"You don’t want to see me?" Jiang Yao’s smile faded.

*I do. I’ve been going crazy... thinking of you all night, the entire night...*

Shen Mo opened his mouth: "Delusional. You’re just a—*hiss!*"

Jiang Yao tightened his grip, the sharp pain cutting Shen Mo off. "Sir, stop fighting it," Jiang Yao said with a smile before releasing him and turning to pick out clothes for the day.

"Butler Jiang," Shen Mo’s face turned stormy. "You’ve overstepped."

*Why did you let go? Why are you so calm?* The thoughts in his mind clashed violently with the words leaving his mouth—full of resentment, doubt, and a hint of madness and reluctance.

Jiang Yao held up a shirt, holding it up to Shen Mo. "Sir, your flight leaves in an hour. I have no choice but to overstep. Forgive my rudeness—don’t be angry."

Shen Mo: "..."

His jaw clenched, words caught in his throat. What he wanted to say was that Jiang Yao could overstep as much as he wanted—but the moment he spoke, it came out wrong.

"Haven’t you overstepped enough?" Every word was dripping venom.

*How else do you want to overstep? Like last night? Insulting me? Putting me down?*

Jiang Yao smiled, and with a single motion, Shen Mo went quiet. The shirt hung on a hanger—metal wrapped in soft fabric, heavy in the hand yet gentle enough not to snag the delicate silk.

But metal was still metal. Even covered, its cold nature remained. So when the tip pressed against his chest, Shen Mo shuddered and stood up unsteadily.

Winter in Country G was merely rainy and humid, the temperature not dropping much. Thus, only summer clothes were kept here—even sleepwear was thin.

Any slight protrusion would be painfully obvious.

Shen Mo let out a muffled sound—"Mmh..."—before biting down hard on his lip the moment he realized his own reaction.

*Ah...*

Jiang Yao continued measuring the shirt against him, expression calm, as if none of the subtle movements were his doing.

Shen Mo: "You—"

"Don’t move." Jiang Yao’s command froze him in place. Shen Mo stood obediently, brows slightly furrowed, face flushed an unhealthy red. Paired with his haggard appearance, he looked like a handsome drifter.

Jiang Yao took the shirt off the hanger, draping it over his arm before pulling Shen Mo’s sleep robe off and tossing it aside. Finally, a smirk curled at his lips—mocking, disdainful—his gaze trailing slowly, as if assessing merchandise.

Shen Mo held his breath without realizing it. He couldn’t decipher Jiang Yao’s intentions, but his mind screamed for more.

"So sensitive," Jiang Yao praised, running a satisfied hand over Shen Mo’s chest. "Very good. Very good."

Shen Mo trembled violently, electric jolts surging through him. A dangerous glint flickered in his darkened eyes as he stared intently at Jiang Yao. "Compared to the others?"

"Hm?" Jiang Yao began buttoning the shirt for him.

"Don’t play dumb. Am I not enough compared to your other men?" Shen Mo’s tone was biting.

*Why won’t you praise me? Why won’t you say I’m better-looking than them? Am I not good enough? Why won’t you touch me more?*

Jiang Yao licked his lips, his own body heating up. His gaze, too, grew dark with desire as he studied Shen Mo. "They’re obedient."

With that, Jiang Yao turned to get the pants. Behind him, Shen Mo watched him with an inscrutable look. "Then I really can’t compare to those street mutts of yours."

*I can be obedient too.*

*How do you know I’m not?*

*I can be obedient—just scold me more, just give me more...*

"Take off your pants," Jiang Yao said.

Shen Mo kicked off his sleep pants. He wore nothing underneath—everything on display, his body reacting honestly to Jiang Yao’s provocations.

Shen Mo: "Give me underwear."

"There isn’t any," Jiang Yao replied.

Shen Mo froze, realization dawning belatedly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as excitement and shame sent his body into an uncontrollable reaction, his face twisting.

"No!" Shen Mo objected—yet his eyes screamed for more.

Jiang Yao simply tossed the trousers at him, gesturing for him to put them on himself. Shen Mo hesitated—one second, two, three... then obediently pulled them on.

Jiang Yao was in a great mood. Shen Mo’s indulgence made him feel as though he were dressing up a doll—one he could shape exactly as he pleased.

Jiang Yao turned his back to Shen Mo, rummaging through things, the vest cinching a waist so slender it seemed almost too delicate to grasp. Was he wearing shirt garters again today?

Shen Mo didn’t know, but Jiang Yao was indeed wearing sleeve bands—of black and gold material, fastened around both arms to keep the sleeves from bunching up. The deliberately restrained folds looked perfectly elegant, adding a touch of unapproachable coldness to Jiang Yao’s demeanor.

Shen Mo felt saliva pooling too rapidly—he couldn’t swallow fast enough before more pooled. Exhausted, yet the pent-up desire inside him demanded release.

He had managed to get the pants on.

"No, no…" The fabric of the suit rubbed against his sensitive spots, and Shen Mo weakly protested, "Like this… ah, I won’t be able to walk…"

"Really?" Jiang Yao coaxed, "It’s fine, put them on. No one will be able to tell… Yes, pull them up… Try walking a few steps…"

Shen Mo had already reached his limit of sensitivity—the slightest stimulation at the tip made him tremble uncontrollably. The fabric of these pants was too soft, as if he were wrapped in clouds.

"You look so good like this," Jiang Yao suddenly remarked.

Shen Mo whirled around suddenly, the fabric pulling taut against him—

"I… ah!" His legs instantly gave way.

Jiang Yao raised an eyebrow, the earlier praise vanishing as his tone turned stern. "You’ve dirtied the pants! Shen Mo!"

Shen Mo froze. He looked down—the refined warm-gray suit now was marred by a dark stain, blemished with telltale streaks.

Panic surged through him. For the first time, he had lost control so shamefully under someone’s gaze.

Jiang Yao strode toward him, face darkening. "Do you have any idea how troublesome it is to clean these pants? No machine washing, no dry cleaning—only hand-washing with warm water and careful ironing, over and over again…"

Shen Mo stared in dazed recognition at Jiang Yao. The scolding suddenly conjured a shadow he had feared for years—his father.

Reprimands, endless reprimands…

He couldn’t afford a single mistake—every decision, every signature could bring immense loss to the family. He had to be flawless just to earn a shred of approval or reward.

"Kneel," Jiang Yao commanded.

Shen Mo fell to his knees without hesitation. A foot pressed between his legs, applying subtle pressure.

Jiang Yao: "Why can’t you control yourself? Weren’t you the best at enduring?"

"I’m… I’m sorry…" Shen Mo couldn’t tell if he was still drunk, but he had lost all restraint. "I held back too long… couldn’t contain it any longer…"

"Your apology sounds sincere." Jiang Yao nodded, then lifted his foot. "Fine, I’ll forgive you."

"No! No!" Shen Mo clutched desperately at Jiang Yao’s calf, parting his legs further as he begged, "Punish me… punish me… Don’t forgive me so easily…"

Jiang Yao licked his dry lips. "Something feels off… like… like we’re missing something? A title, perhaps?"

"Father… don’t forgive me…"