Chapter 3: Does It Feel Good?

Chapter 3: How Does It Feel?

Once the door to a new world has opened, there’s no closing it again.

Be wild, be extravagant, be free, indulge!

It’s time to feast!

And so, Chu Yan, with ten million in his pocket, stepped back through the doors of the Serenity Club—this time, ready to feast to his heart’s content.

A million-yuan membership? Chu Yan signed up without hesitation. Male models at 10K a night? He booked them without a second thought—five of them, in fact.

One to massage his legs and shoulders, one to feed him fruit, one to pour his tea and wine, one to sing and dance, and one with a silver tongue to offer emotional support.

All five were handsome, each in their own distinct way—youthful, alluring, rugged, and one whose chest threatened to burst the buttons of his shirt.

Their personalities varied, but their eyes were all on Chu Yan, subtly vying for his favor, filling the air with playful competition.

Chu Yan reveled in the indulgence, feeling like an ancient emperor surrounded by beauties. He couldn’t help but marvel—*this* was pure bliss. What kind of ascetic life had he been living before?

While Chu Yan was busy enjoying his new world, meanwhile, in a twist of fate, Fu Junhang, by chance, also arrived at the club.

This was his second visit, but this time, as its new owner.

Zhu Ye stood respectfully nearby, meticulously reporting the recent developments and handling of affairs to Fu Junhang, who listened distractedly.

The past few days had seen a massive cleanup of the Serenity Club. Everyone involved in *that incident* had been removed, and all related evidence had been turned over to the authorities.

Of course, the truth of that night had also come to light.

The Fu family had stood at the top for so long that they never imagined anyone would dare challenge their bottom line. Yet someone had gambled—and won.

The club’s drug ties weren’t new, nor were the participants few. Behind them were even bigger players, reaching into international trafficking rings.

Fu Junhang couldn’t be bothered with the Fu family’s messes, no matter how deep the scandal ran. But he had a close friend—Jiang Lvshen, a police officer, the kind of ride-or-die friend.

Jiang Lvshen had been investigating a drug case that led him to the Serenity Club. Determined to take down the whole ring, he decided to go undercover alone. Because of their bond, he confided in Fu Junhang.

Fu Junhang knew how dangerous the club’s underbelly was, but Jiang Lvshen—stubborn as a mule—wouldn’t listen. The man had charged into danger time and again for the sake of justice, refusing any help from his family. Fu Junhang couldn’t care less about the Fu family’s troubles, but he couldn’t ignore his friend’s life. So, he stepped in himself.

But Jiang Lvshen had jumped the gun this time, and the people running the club were far more reckless than expected. Before Fu Junhang could fully grasp the situation, Jiang Lvshen had already made his move. By the time Fu Junhang realized, it was almost too late—he rushed in to save him.

The ringleaders behind the club had set a trap: first seduction, then drugs, dragging their victim into an irreversible abyss. If coercion failed, they’d simply make him disappear without a trace.

Luckily, Fu Junhang arrived just in time, yanking his friend back from the edge and swiftly shutting it all down. But in the process, Fu Junhang himself had fallen victim.

What an absurd turn of events. Fu Junhang, who’d weathered countless storms, had been tripped up by such an unexpected twist.

And then, right at that moment, someone had plowed into his arms—the person burrowing into his embrace without a word. Their exquisite face was flushed like an inviting peach, and their full lips gleamed with an alluring luster. This only intensified the heat already raging within Fu Junhang.

He said he was hot, he asked Fu Junhang to help him. His voice was soft and intoxicating, his fingers slender and delicate. Fu Junhang, already on the verge of losing control, finally snapped.

He picked him up and kicked open the door. For the first time in thirty years, Fu Junhang had acted so recklessly.

Now, just the memory of that night—the man’s inexperience, his soft whimpers—sent an unwanted heat surging through Fu Junhang’s chest.

But then… that hundred yuan. That glaring, insulting hundred yuan.

Hah. Hah.

Zhu Ye watched as his boss’s expression went dark. He hesitated before speaking up.

“Uh… Boss,” he started cautiously, “that young master… he happens to be here right now.”

As Fu Junhang’s personal bodyguard, Zhu Ye knew exactly what had happened that night.

His boss had been alone for years, so Zhu Ye had been glad to see him finally indulge. At first, he’d assumed it was just a pretty male model—someone Fu Junhang could sleep with casually or keep around if he liked. But upon investigating, they’d discovered the shocking truth: the man was none other than the fiancé of Fu Junhang’s own nephew, and it was public knowledge.

Yikes. Awkward.

But his boss wasn’t the type to care about such things. They weren’t married yet, and even if they were, divorce was always an option. As long as his boss was happy, who it was didn’t matter.

“Which young master?” Fu Junhang’s brow arched.

“The one who… *ahem*… shared a night of passion with you.”

Zhu Ye didn’t dare say *your future nephew-in-law*.

Suddenly, the hazy images in Fu Junhang’s mind sharpened—the kittenish whines, the muffled cries that had haunted him for days.

His throat tightened. But that damned hundred yuan flashed brighter in his memory, stinging like a slap in the face!

“What a little idiot. And he dares to come back?”

Fu Junhang scoffed.

Zhu Ye couldn’t quite read his boss’s mood, but since he didn’t seem annoyed or dismissive, he continued.

“The young master signed up for a million-yuan membership as soon as he arrived. Then he booked five male models at once. Right now, he’s…”

*Snap.* The cigarette between Fu Junhang’s fingers broke in half. His eye twitched.

“He booked *what*?”

“Male models,” Zhu Ye repeated, amused despite himself. The rumors painted the young master as hopelessly devoted to Fu Hongan, but who knew he was this wild in private? “Five of them. 10K a head for the night.”

The room went icy. Zhu Ye quickly shut his mouth.

*Five male models?* That delicate little body—could it even handle that? No, wait, that wasn’t the point. The point was… was his taste *that* bad?

Fu Junhang was worth only a hundred, but those dime-a-dozen hunks got *ten thousand* each?

Hah. No wonder he’d been blind enough to fall for Fu Hongan.

Fu Junhang’s mind darkened as he recalled that hundred yuan, those tearful pleas, that slender, pliant body…

Oh, and how he’d fainted in the end.

*Five?* How dare he?

Hah. Hah. Hah.

Chu Yan found himself surrounded by handsome men, left and right, enjoying the sheer indulgence—yet he couldn’t bring himself to make a move. Every time they got too close, his mind involuntarily replayed that night—the impossibly handsome face, the body that made his blood boil—both relentlessly assaulting his thoughts.

Unconsciously, he was comparing them, only to quickly realize there was no comparison. The gap was glaring, making it even harder to proceed.

Goddammit, starting with such a high bar—how was he supposed to enjoy anything else after that?

"Young Master Chu, shall we head to the room?"

One of the male models flung himself into Chu Yan’s arms, fluttering his lashes with clear intent. "Or perhaps you’d prefer just me?"

His fingers drew teasing spirals over Chu Yan’s chest, but before Chu Yan could respond, the masseur model shoved his hand away and wrapped his arms around Chu Yan’s neck, breathing hotly into his ear.

"Don’t mind this tramp, Young Master. Look at me—I can be whatever you want, I’ll blow your mind."

The whisper sent a shiver down Chu Yan’s spine, but then the slender dancer model rushed over, yanking the masseur away before performing a graceful spin and straddling Chu Yan’s lap. With a come-hither look, he purred, "Young Master Chu, didn’t you say I was your favorite?"

"You have no shame!" The cheerleader model twisted his body to shove the dancer aside, then nuzzled into Chu Yan’s shoulder, flashing bedroom eyes. "Young Master Chu obviously likes me best. The rest of you can back off. Though..." His hand suddenly slid suggestively toward Chu Yan’s crotch. "If Young Master Chu prefers, we could always—"

*Smack!*

Chu Yan couldn’t take it anymore. He slapped the hand away and fled out of the private room like his ass was on fire!

"Wait, Young Master Chu!"

"Master! We’re all yours tonight!"

"......"

Chu Yan ran even faster, as if hellhounds were on his heels.

So much for indulging—A million down the drain! His heart bled, but his feet carried him like the wind. Yet, despite his speed, the muscular male model caught up to him in no time.

"Young Master Chu, where are you off to?"

Towering and broad-shouldered, the muscular model flexed his bulging arms—his sheer size had kept him sidelined earlier, leaving little room to showcase his appeal. Now that he’d caught up, he went full mating-display mode.

Chu Yan watched, stunned, as the man grabbed his slender, pale hand and pressed it firmly against his steel-plated pecs. He even flexed under Chu Yan’s touch, like a preening peacock shaking its tail feathers.

Thick. Rippling. Unrelenting.

"Young Master Chu, seven rounds a night—no problem. Sure you don’t want to reconsider?"

The muscular model threw Chu Yan a lethal wink.

Chu Yan’s eyes widened in horror. He tried to pull his hand back, but the man held it in a vice grip.

*Fuck me, fuck me—so hard, so big—* but all Chu Yan could think was, *Help me! HELP ME!*

Then, a deep, magnetic voice sounded behind him—close enough that the speaker’s warm breath brushed against his ear, the alpha male scent flooding his senses.

*So familiar.*

The voice was smooth, yet laced with something like barely restrained fury. And why did it sound so damn familiar?

Chu Yan jerked his head around—only to come face-to-face with a magnified face, a pair of hooded, smoldering eyes, their depths swirling with an intoxicating mix of danger and allure. The man’s aquiline nose nearly grazed Chu Yan’s cheek, and most damning of all—their lips brushed together, wet and undeniable.

So there Chu Yan was—one hand groping a muscular chest, the other caught in a kiss with another man.

The scene froze, bizarre yet perversely balanced.