Chapter 23: Little Enchantress

Chapter 23 Little Devil

"Your Majesty, are you well?"

As the impossibly handsome figure emerged from the halo of light, Chu Yan finally made out the man's face. Wasn't this the male model he was paying for?

"You... what are you doing here?"

Chu Yan was stunned, but the sudden pain in his foot quickly made him suck in a sharp breath, his lips twitching slightly.

Fu Junhang strode over and crouched in front of him, reaching out to examine Chu Yan's injury. But the moment his fingers touched Chu Yan's ankle, Chu Yan grimaced in pain.

"Be gentle, I think I sprained my foot."

For some reason, Chu Yan's voice carried a hint of a whine. Especially when he looked up and saw the male model's expressionless face—no glance, no smile, just a faint frown and tightly pressed lips—his annoyance inexplicably amplified.

What's with that look?

With such a handsome face, that expression was somehow a little intimidating.

Chu Yan felt wronged, and a little scared.

"Thanks, by the way."

Fu Junhang still ignored him, merely gripping his ankle to carefully inspect the injury. When he saw the slight swelling on Chu Yan's pale ankle, his movements paused briefly.

"Here?"

His voice remained devoid of warmth.

The lightest touch of his fingertip made Chu Yan nearly tear up from the pain.

"It hurts~"

Fu Junhang shot him a glance. "Anywhere else?"

Chu Yan pouted. "I'm injured, and you don’t even care." With that attitude, he then pointed to his knee. "Here too. This hurts as well."

Bad review!

"You seemed pretty tough earlier—taking on five guys at once, even daring to provoke them."

Chu Yan felt a pang of guilt. "That was an accident."

Fu Junhang continued, "Besides, with a Sugar Daddy like you, pampered by your brother and your fiancé, when would a powerless, penniless male model like me ever get a turn?"

Chu Yan was speechless. Why did that sound so sour?

"Did you eat a lemon?"

But the jealous male model was kind of cute. The thought made Chu Yan chuckle.

Fu Junhang just felt exhausted. How did he end up with such a clueless little idiot?

"Still laughing? Guess it doesn’t hurt that much."

Though his words were sharp, his movements were gentle. He bent Chu Yan’s injured leg, propping it on the ground to examine it better. But no matter how careful he was, the fabric still brushed against the wound, making the previously grinning Chu Yan suck in another sharp breath.

Not laughing now?

Fu Junhang glanced at him again before carefully rolling up the pant leg inch by inch, revealing a shocking patch of red on the knee.

When Chu Yan had fallen earlier, his knee had slammed directly onto the asphalt. A large patch of skin had been scraped off, the crimson blood not excessive but painful-looking. The night wind only made the wound sting more.

Chu Yan hissed in pain, but the man in front of him had eyes so dark they were almost frightening, as if someone had deeply offended him.

Was he in a bad mood today? Why? Did something happen at home?

Even so, he shouldn’t bring that energy in front of his Sugar Daddy.

Chu Yan had never been one to fuss over minor things, but right now, he felt a little aggrieved.

In his past life, he had grown up relying solely on his grandmother. As a child, while she worked, he’d often been left alone at home, beaten up countless times by village kids. So fighting was nothing new to him—fight back hard when he could, run like hell when he couldn’t. He had plenty of experience, so a little injury like this was nothing.

His mistake had been underestimating just how cruel those spoiled rich kids could be. Their malice was on a whole other level compared to ordinary troublemakers.

Plus, the original owner’s body was far too delicate. Though the original Chu Yan hadn’t been favored in the Chu family, he was still leagues stronger than the Chu Yan from that other world. This body wasn’t just slender and weak-looking—even the skin was pale and tender. In short, Chu Yan hadn’t expected to be this fragile.

Now, his calf was fully exposed to the air, the slender, fair limb making the swelling on his ankle and the wound on his knee stand out even more starkly.

Looking at himself like this, even Chu Yan felt a twinge of sympathy. But the man’s gaze only darkened further, his face still unreadable. The damn male model didn’t even spare him a glance, as if angry about something.

Chu Yan thought his male model could be pretty heartless sometimes.

"Wait here."

Fu Junhang suddenly stood and walked away.

Chu Yan panicked. "Hey, where are you going? You’re just leaving me? I’m your Sugar Daddy! I’m loaded now—don’t regret this later!"

By the end, his words were almost gritted out, because the damn male model dared to ignore him. His resentment flared again—until, through the distant streetlights, he finally saw what the man was doing.

A black car was parked further away, and the male model was heading straight for it, seemingly to grab something. He wasn’t abandoning him after all.

Chu Yan let out a relieved sigh. He was all alone now—thank goodness this guy hadn’t ditched him.

Fu Junhang retrieved a first-aid kit from the trunk and returned to Chu Yan. To make disinfecting and bandaging easier, he knelt on one knee, his tall frame bending into an elegant curve under the streetlight.

His long, straight figure was effortlessly handsome as he knelt before Chu Yan, carefully dabbing at the knee wound with a cotton swab.

His slender fingers were well-defined, holding the tiny swab with steady precision. He was really tall—even with Chu Yan sitting on the ground, one leg bent, the kneeling man still towered over him by half a head. But the way he lowered his head, focused entirely on not hurting him, struck Chu Yan right in the heart.

Fine. He admitted it—he was being seduced by his male model.

His heart pounded wildly as he stared at the head bowed before him. The man’s hair was wild and untamed, the style effortlessly cool. But with a face like his, any hairstyle would look good.

His hair looked stiff, but Chu Yan had touched it before—when he’d pinned him down, he loved running his fingers through those strands. So he knew—the man’s hair was incredibly soft, soothing to the touch.

Fu Junhang worked meticulously, cleaning away the blood bit by bit, disinfecting the wound, then wrapping it carefully with gauze and taping it down. Only then did he realize his usually chatty Sugar Daddy had gone unusually quiet.

When he looked up, he found the other staring intently at his head, lost in thought.

"What? Do I have lice or something?"

Chu Yan: "..."

Way to ruin the moment.

"Have you noticed how terrible your service attitude is today? Zero emotional support. Keep this up, and I’m giving you a bad review."

Fu Junhang let out a derisive snort. "So what, are you taking back the tip you just gave me?"

"You've got some nerve, daring to provoke your Daddy?"

"I wouldn't dare."

"Good, you'd better not," Chu Yan lifted his chin haughtily. "Daddy made money today—I'm super rich now. You should know that the Daddy you picked is a blue-chip stock. Stick with me, and you won't regret it."

Chu Yan preened, patting his chest.

"Wow, you're really something," Fu Junhang replied dismissively, his face still devoid of a smile. This made Chu Yan feel a little uneasy. He couldn’t figure out what was going on—wasn’t his male model usually so considerate?

After tending to the wound on Chu Yan’s knee, Fu Junhang carefully lifted his sprained ankle. It was sprained, slightly out of joint, and needed to be reset immediately.

"Ah—!"

As his foot was suddenly raised, Chu Yan instinctively grabbed Fu Junhang’s arm. The pain was excruciating, as if every muscle in his leg had seized up at once.

Fu Junhang quickly lowered his foot, his movements gentle but his tone sharp. "Now you feel the pain? Weren’t you acting all tough earlier?"

"What did I do earlier? What kind of attitude is this for a male model? How dare you talk to your Daddy like that!"

"You’ve got some nerve," Fu Junhang was almost amused by this little idiot’s audacity. "You knew you were at a disadvantage, yet you didn’t protect yourself. You knew those guys were bastards and outnumbered you, yet you still provoked them. Tell me, didn’t you have it coming?"

Chu Yan immediately understood what he meant. Earlier at the gate, he hadn’t expected to be left alone, nor that he wouldn’t be able to hail a cab—let alone run into those jerks.

So this was why the man was angry? A strange warmth flickered in Chu Yan’s chest.

But he couldn’t back down now—he was the Daddy, after all. How dare this male model get too big for his britches?

"Y-you… you’re yelling at me? You actually dare to yell at me?"

Chu Yan didn’t know why, but he was getting all teary-eyed again. He hadn’t felt this wronged even when he’d put on an Oscar-worthy performance earlier, standing alone against the entire Fu family.

He’d pulled off something huge tonight—breaking free from the male lead’s control, changing his fate, and even making a cool hundred million. Didn’t that deserve praise?

And after being chased and beaten by those good-for-nothing trust fund brats, spraining his ankle, scraping his knee, barely escaping—didn’t his pathetic state warrant some sympathy?

So what was with this man’s attitude? Who was he giving the stink eye to?

Chu Yan felt a pang of bitterness. In this vast world, he couldn’t find a single person to share his joy with. The only one he could speak a few honest words to was a male model whose relationship with him was maintained by money.

How pathetic.

And tonight, this male model seemed particularly unreasonable—his words were downright offensive.

"Little master, you’re so delicate."

Fu Junhang was both exasperated and amused by Chu Yan’s ability to turn the tables on him. This was considered yelling? If he’d seen how Fu Junhang usually acted, he’d probably burst into tears on the spot.

"You’re calling me delicate?" Chu Yan pointed at himself. "One-star review. I’m docking your pay."

"Go ahead."

"Though I thought the allowance was for sleeping with you. I just saved you, and now I’m treating your wounds—these are extra charges."

Chu Yan: "..."

This damn man was two-faced—one in bed, one out of it.

"I never asked you to come—"

Just then, Fu Junhang cupped Chu Yan’s heel with one hand and gripped his ankle with the other, applying a swift, firm twist. A sharp *crack* echoed, followed by Chu Yan’s agonized scream.

"AHHH—IT HURTS! IT HURTS!!"

The man had reset his foot without any warning. The sudden, searing pain made Chu Yan cry out, his fingers clawing at Fu Junhang’s arm so hard he nearly dragged him down.

Chu Yan, already on the verge of tears, couldn’t hold back anymore. Tears spilled uncontrollably, but he bit his lip hard, trying to choke them back. This was so humiliating.

When Fu Junhang looked up, he saw Chu Yan like this—his delicate face flushed and pale, lips bitten raw, tears streaming down. Something in Fu Junhang’s chest tugged violently at his heartstrings.

"Did it hurt that much?"

"Duh."

Fu Junhang’s voice softened involuntarily. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you."

He reached up to wipe Chu Yan’s tears, but Chu Yan turned away, stubbornly holding them back. "Whatever. It’s just a little pain. It’s not like it’ll kill me."

So embarrassing. He’d once broken two ribs as a stunt double and hadn’t shed a single tear!

"Then why are you crying like this?" Fu Junhang couldn’t help but chuckle, still brushing away his tears. "Trying to milk sympathy?"

Chu Yan flushed with anger. "It’s an involuntary response, got it? Why don’t you try it yourself?"

Of course it hurt.

Truthfully, Fu Junhang didn’t consider this kind of injury serious. He could pop his own dislocated shoulder back into place without flinching. But his little Daddy was genuinely delicate. He’d tried to be as gentle as possible, even catching him off guard to spare him the fear—only for the guy to burst into tears and startle him instead.

"Fine, my bad. I’ll go easier next time."

"There won’t *be* a next time!" Chu Yan gritted his teeth. Tonight was an anomaly—he’d underestimated his own physical limits.

"You could’ve at least given me a heads-up before doing that!"

Chu Yan wasn’t unfamiliar with such injuries, so he knew what Fu Junhang was doing. But acting without warning? That was just cruel.

"My bad then," Fu Junhang said casually, pulling out a tube of ointment from the first-aid kit and applying it carefully to the sprain.

Fu Junhang’s hands were large, his fingers long and straight. Chu Yan’s feet were small for a man’s, delicate and pale, and the way Fu Junhang cradled his ankle created an oddly beautiful picture. Watching him work so meticulously made Chu Yan’s heart race uncontrollably again.

"You still haven’t told me why you’re here."

The Fu family estate was remote—no one would just stumble upon it.

"To pick you up, little master."

When Fu Junhang called him "little master," his tone always carried an inexplicable fondness.

Chu Yan’s lips curled slightly. Good. He’d been worried the man was secretly taking side gigs behind his back.

"How did you know I was here?"

"You don’t know?" Fu Junhang continued applying the ointment carefully. "A video of you at the Fu estate was posted online. People are saying you crashed the event for attention, that you weren’t invited and got turned away at the door. Oh, and some are claiming you went to force a marriage proposal—that the Chu family kicked you out, so now you’re desperate and with nothing left to lose, desperately clinging to the Fu family for survival."

"They sure love to talk trash."

Chu Yan didn’t care—he wasn’t new to the entertainment industry, and he had anticipated this situation long ago.

Fu Junhang was slightly surprised by his calmness. Hesitantly, he asked, "You... aren’t angry?"

His eyes were full of scrutiny.

But Chu Yan waved it off casually. "Pfft, not worth my time. Let them flap their gums—it’s not like words can kill me."

"Most importantly, I just landed a reality show. I actually need this kind of buzz."

Chu Yan’s eyes sparkled. The guests on *Rebirth Challenge* were all controversial celebrities—scandal-ridden, problematic figures—so they naturally came with built-in drama. The more people criticized them, the higher the show’s popularity would soar.

Why get angry? Free publicity, baby.

Fu Junhang raised an eyebrow. His little benefactor was truly... shrewd.

"Besides, I wasn’t here to force a marriage—I came to break off the engagement! A fiancé who’s carrying a torch for someone else deserves to be dumped hard. To hell with that asshole! It’s not like men are hard to find."

"I must’ve been out of my mind before, obsessing over Fu Hongan, that dead-end loser. Talk about dumb life choices."

Fu Junhang’s pent-up mood suddenly lightened, and an inexplicable sense of joy washed over him.

Chu Yan didn’t notice the change in the man’s expression and kept going.

"Besides, wise men don’t fall in love. Simping idiots only hurt themselves and others. From now on, I’ll only love myself—I’m riding solo, screw men!"

"Love’s bullshit. All I need is money. Why not hire ten or eight male models? Why bother with relationships? Marriage? Only idiots get married!"

Chu Yan spoke passionately, his words ringing like a grand speech.

Fu Junhang: "..." *Well, that’s one way to put it... but why do my fingers itch to pinch his cheeks?*

After finishing, Chu Yan looked at Fu Junhang with shining eyes, seeking validation. "Don’t you think I’m right?"

"Right, right, right." *Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.*

"Such a lame reply."

Chu Yan’s fiery TED talk had inexplicably lifted his mood, so he let it slide.

Little did he know, Fu Junhang had long since curled his lips into a smile, his mood clearly shifting from gloomy to bright.

"Let’s go. I’ll take you back."

Fu Junhang wrapped an arm around Chu Yan’s shoulder while his other hand effortlessly slid under his knees, preparing to lift him in a bridal carry.

But Chu Yan grabbed his arm. "Wait."

"What’s wrong?"

Fu Junhang was still kneeling on one knee, his body close as he held Chu Yan. With just a little effort, he could sweep him off his feet.

Their faces were inches apart. Fu Junhang looked down at Chu Yan, his chin nearly resting on the other’s forehead, while Chu Yan, turning to meet his gaze, could feel Fu Junhang’s warm breath against his face.

Could he admit that the bridal carry was too embarrassing? But before he could answer, Fu Junhang pressed again, "My patron?"

Holy shit—His mind flooded with naughty fantasies—bridal carries, tall knights sweeping petite princesses off their feet in *that* way.

"Carry me on your back instead!" Chu Yan commanded shamelessly.

Fu Junhang chuckled lowly. "Such a princess."

Though he didn’t know what was going on in that airhead’s imagination, the guilty look and flushed cheeks made it obvious—he was embarrassed.

Without hesitation, Fu Junhang turned and crouched in front of him, presenting his back. "Hop on."

God knows how shocking this scene would be if anyone saw it—the feared Third Master Fu willingly bending his back like this.

Chu Yan’s heart did backflips with joy. He threw himself onto the man’s broad back, clinging tightly as Fu Junhang effortlessly stood up with him.

Chu Yan was still a grown man—though half a head shorter than a male model, he was pushing 180cm. Sure, he was a bit thin, but still, a full-grown man. Yet Fu Junhang carried him with absurdly easy.

"Hold on tight."

Fu Junhang secured his grip under Chu Yan’s knees and turned his head to instruct, "Keep your left leg straight. Don’t aggravate the injury."

"Mhm."

Chu Yan rested his head on the man’s broad shoulder, an inexplicable tightness forming in his chest.

How many years had it been since he’d been this close to someone? The last time he’d been carried like this was as a child—on his grandmother’s back. Compared to Fu Junhang’s sturdy frame, hers had been bony. He’d been afraid of weighing her down, yet even then, her back had felt so warm, so safe.

In all the years since, no one had carried him. He’d never felt that warmth and security again.

But now—this back was so strong, so dependable, so warm.

Unconsciously, Chu Yan tightened his hold, pressing his face against the man’s back with an indescribable mix of warm fuzzies and heartache.

Damn, I might cry.

Fu Junhang noticed the gesture, his heart twinged faintly. But as Chu Yan fell silent, his earlier liveliness vanished, replaced by a heavy silence. Even as they reached the car, he didn’t say a word.

He seemed downcast. *Is he still upset over Fu Hongan?*

*All that talk about not caring—just an act, huh?*

"We’re here."

Chu Yan remained quietly slumped on Fu Junhang’s back until an ultra-rare luxury ride pulled into view, damn near blinding him.

"T-This is your car?"

Chu Yan gaped. From the original host’s memories, this car was worth nine figures—not something money alone could buy. It was a flex machine. *His hired escort drove this to pick him up? How does that make sense?*

Fu Junhang carefully bundled him into the passenger seat, strapping him in before booping his nose with a smirk.

"You really think so?" Fu Junhang chuckled.

Chu Yan nearly sagged in relief. "That’s what I thought. As if."

"If you could afford this, why would you be a male model? You could’ve been my sugar daddy instead."

Offhand remark, but the right man heard. A knowing glint flashed in Fu Junhang’s eyes, but Chu Yan was too busy geeking out over the car, his eyes wide with wonder.

*A hypercar you can’t even buy with connections—this might be probably his one and only chance to ride in one.*

"Nah, nah, nah, he still needed to make more money. Even if he couldn’t afford such a limited-run supercar, he could still buy other high-end vehicles.

"Wait," Chu Yan suddenly jolted awake. "If it's not yours, then where did it come from?"

His eyes widened in shock. "Y-you... don’t tell me you have another patron behind my back?"

And that patron must be a real moneybags—someone with absolute wealth and status, who could casually gift such a limited-run supercar to the kept boy they were keeping. So what did that make him? A patron whose kept boy used another patron’s car to pick him up?

Fu Junhang watched as Chu Yan’s expression shifted dramatically, looking utterly bewildered, and couldn’t resist tapping his forehead again.

"What crazy idea got into your head? I rented it."

"Rented?"

Could this car even be rented? Wasn’t it said that money couldn’t buy it? Would someone who owned such a car even need the rental fee? He found it hard to believe.

"One million."

"How much?!"

Chu Yan was stunned.

"For one day."

"You wasteful brat!"

Chu Yan was so furious he nearly twisted around to strangle this high-maintenance gigolo. He wanted to shake the stupid out of him.

"One million for one night, and it’s rented? Do you even hear yourself? Have you forgotten your place? You’re a male model, not some rich playboy who throws money around. You’re supposed to be selling yourself to make money, and you only earn a paltry three mil a month from that! And you just blew one million on a single night’s rental?"

"Tell me, was your family’s fortune originally squandered by you like this?"

He’d seen reckless spenders before, but never one this extreme. Chu Yan seriously suspected this rich kid had to turn tricks precisely because he’d been too extravagant in the past.

Way too high-maintenance. This male model was absolutely unaffordable.

Fu Junhang watched Chu Yan’s hilarious face and nearly pulled the car over to kiss him. The corners of his lips curled slightly as he began feeding him a line. "I did it for you."

"For me?"

The audacity! The way he shifted blame was truly impressive.

"Yeah. I saw people online dragging you through the mud—really vicious stuff. They called you trash, said you were worse than trash after being kicked out by the Chu family, accused you of shamelessly clinging to the Fu family for clout like a beggar, mocked you for being so poor you didn’t even own a car. It was awful."

"So, I borrowed this car from an old friend to make you look good and shut those people up."

"Boss, did I do wrong? I just couldn’t stand them misunderstanding you like that. It hurt me to see it."

Damn!

Chu Yan froze.

Crap. He actually made it sound reasonable.

"Ahem." Chu Yan coughed awkwardly. "Alright, just don’t do it again."

Fu Junhang smirked. His dumbass was so easy to coax—he’d have to keep a close eye on him.

By the time Chu Yan was brought home, it was already late at night. Fu Junhang carried him back, but when he tried to set him down on the sofa, Chu Yan hung onto him like a koala and refused to let go. Fu Junhang had no choice but to sit beside him, careful not to jostle his injured leg.

With his arms looped around Fu Junhang’s neck, Chu Yan was in an exceptionally good mood. He wasn’t tired at all—he just wanted to celebrate, especially since he’d hit the jackpot overnight.

"Today was amazing. Clean sweep. Have a drink with me?"

Fu Junhang glanced at his injured leg, hesitating. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure. Wait for me, okay?"

Chu Yan got up to fetch the wine—one billion! The euphoria of sudden wealth was indescribable. Nothing less than champagne would cut it.

Fu Junhang watched him hop off and quickly pulled him back down. "Stay put. I’ll get it."

Chu Yan happily told him where the wine was, and soon, they tapped their glasses together.

"To breaking free from fate and a fresh start."

Chu Yan was genuinely happy. In the novel, the original guy had clung desperately to the engagement with Fu Hong'an, refusing to let go no matter how many times he was rejected, until even the last shred of goodwill between them snapped. In the end, after countless schemes against Chu Xiuyi, he was ostracized by both the Fu and Chu families, abandoned by everyone, and canceled online. For that engagement, he lost everything—even himself.

But now, Chu Yan had got out of that engagement. There was no more entanglement between him and Fu Hong'an, and he would stay far away from those two in the future. As long as he avoided them, his life wouldn’t go down the drain like the original guy’s.

He’d escaped that miserable fate—wasn’t that a rebirth?

Chu Yan knocked back drink after drink.

"And to cashing in overnight!" He was practically vibrating with excitement. "One billion! I made one billion tonight! Hahaha, I’m amazing."

He chattered excitedly, gulping down another glass before pouring more. He flung himself at Fu Junhang, wrapping his arms around him. "Aren’t I incredible? I’m a cash machine!"

"You’re getting a sweet deal by sticking with me."

With a playful smirk, Chu Yan lifted Fu Junhang’s chin with his fingertip, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Come on, smile for me. Sugar daddy's rolling in it."

His eyes shone, his delicate face flushed pink from the alcohol, glowing under the light. Leaning against Fu Junhang’s arm, he looked up with a proud, spoiled expression—downright cute.

But when he mentioned the one billion, Fu Junhang froze for a moment. His hand finally cupped Chu Yan’s flushed cheek, fingers brushing through his bangs, his gaze complicated.

"Are you an idiot? Telling me how much you earned?" Though he already knew, he still asked, "Aren’t you afraid I’ll clean you out?"

Chu Yan just slurred with a giggle. "I want you to know exactly how rich I am, so you understand—Sugar daddy's loaded, and has more than enough to keep you. So no other patrons, got it?"

Fu Junhang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, belatedly realizing the guy was drunk.

As if to prove his point, Chu Yan wobbled as he pulled out his phone and, right in front of him, transferred one million. Fu Junhang was too slow to stop him.

"See? Daddy’s rich. Filthy rich." Chu Yan threw himself at Fu Junhang again, arms looping around his neck as he pulled him close. "This covers tonight’s rental. Consider it paid in full."

"You’re drunk."

Fu Junhang quickly snatched the swaying glass from his hand, slipping an arm around his narrow waist to steady the tipsy mess while playing along.

"Nonsense! You don’t believe I can make money, do you?" he grumbled. "You looking down on me?"

"Alright, alright, I believe you. You’re swimming in cash."

"You’re just humoring me. Do you have another patron? Are you taking side gigs? That’s a violation of our agreement! You know that, right?" he whined.

Chu Yan was swaying so much that Fu Junhang probably looked like he was seeing double.

Fu Junhang had to grab his hands to stop his drunken pawing. "No other sponsors. Only you."

"I believe you," Chu Yan giggled drunkenly as he leaned in, planting a loud kiss on the man's lips. "I'm not afraid you'll trick me. Remember, big bro is... filthy rich... Daddy’s a cash cow, a total money-making pro."

"Yeah, yeah, you're rich, you're amazing."

Fu Junhang indulged him while scooping him up princess-carry and heading toward the bedroom. The drunkard was wasted but still clung tightly to his neck.

"So, Wang Xing, don’t go looking for others, okay? No one else, just me, your golden goose, alright? I’ve got money, I’ll earn tons to spoil you. And even after... wait, even after three months, don’t find another patron, okay? I’ll keep you..."

"I’ll make money for you, big bro’s rolling in it..."

Chu Yan babbled drunkenly, drunk yet not entirely, slurring nonsense against the man’s chest.

When Fu Junhang laid him on the bed, he realized the guy’s face was streaked with tears. His heart clenched uncontrollably, aching fiercely.

This version of Chu Yan was heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Fu Junhang had never known what heartache felt like, nor had he ever experienced it—until now. He was certain this was it. Unable to resist, he bent down, kissing away the tears on Chu Yan’s face one by one before whispering soothing words into his ear over and over.

"No one else, just you."

"My little sugar baby, it’s only you."

Whether Chu Yan heard him or not was unclear, but he finally relaxed, obediently curling under the covers.

Fu Junhang pulled the covers over him, only to find the guy staring up at him with a flushed face, grinning goofily—adorable beyond words.

"What’re you looking at? Keep staring and I’ll eat you up."

Fu Junhang leaned in, threatening playfully.

The drunken Chu Yan, however, took the opportunity to loop his arms around Fu Junhang’s neck, fearlessly reckless.

The drunkard’s grip was surprisingly strong, yanking Fu Junhang down on top of him. Worried about pressing on Chu Yan’s injury, Fu Junhang struggled to brace himself, but the drunkard was unrelenting, locking his arms around his neck to deny any escape.

"Are you gonna find another sugar daddy?"

The drunkard whined petulantly, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Fu Junhang gave up resisting, letting himself collapse onto Chu Yan, then propped himself up to loom over him.

"No other patrons. Just you."

"I don’t believe you."

The drunkard muttered obstinately.

"Believe it or not."

"You’re being mean to me?"

"Nope."

"Then kiss me!" the drunkard demanded.

Fu Junhang realized he was utterly helpless against this drunk. The guy’s alcohol tolerance was abysmal, but his drunken little sugar baby was sinfully adorable.

Chu Yan’s cheeks were flushed, his fair skin now pink from the alcohol. His eyes were hazy, sometimes unfocused, other times piercingly bright.

Most dangerous of all were his lips—slightly swollen from the alcohol, plump and glossy as if coated in lip gloss, red and maddeningly kissable.

Fu Junhang’s throat tightened as Chu Yan’s mouth kept moving, chattering away.

"You won’t kiss me? Wahh, you must have another sugar daddy!"

"Waaah, you’re definitely cheating! I’m cutting your allowance! Daddy doesn’t love you anymore!"

"Daddy’s so sad... Daddy’s gonna go to the club and find another hottie, wahh..."

"Mmm—"

Fu Junhang finally shut him up with a kiss.

The moment their mouths met, the heat between them was undeniable.

After a deep kiss, both were left breathless—especially the already-drunk Chu Yan, who was nearly dizzy from the kiss. His lips, now even redder and glossier, looked as if they’d been stained with lipstick, utterly tempting.

Chu Yan’s mind went blank from the kiss, though it briefly sobered him up. Horrified, he realized he’d almost been kissed to death.

Talk about a way to go.

Luckily, he survived—though his arms remained locked around the man.

Their eyes met, the drunkard’s gaze clouded with innocence, pure yet innocently seductive, igniting an unbearable need in Fu Junhang.

So now, one pair of eyes held water—calm, all-encompassing—while the other burned with fire, ravenous and consuming.

"I want~"

"Want what?"

Fu Junhang played dumb, his voice low and rough, his gaze hungry.

"You."

Chu Yan’s voice was soft, still laced with the scent of alcohol, making his whining deadly effective.

Fu Junhang cursed under his breath—this little minx was going to be the death of him.

"I want it, okay?"

Chu Yan’s tone was honeyed and pleading, purposely coy as he shook the man’s arm, blinking those mesmerizing eyes—glassy-eyed yet irresistible.

Even Fu Junhang, with his steely self-control, was tempted to pounce and claim this clueless temptress whole. But the last shred of reason reminded him—the kid’s leg was still injured.

So Fu Junhang wrestled down his urges, tucking the fidgety drunk back under the covers.

"Be good. Another time."

It took every ounce of willpower to say that, yet this little drunkard remained cheerfully defiant.

Chu Yan pointed at him indignantly. "Wang Xing, you’re not a real man."

"Wang Xing, you... can’t get it up."

Damn this minx. Fu Junhang barked a frustrated laugh.

But Chu Yan suddenly dragged him down mercilessly, sending Fu Junhang crashing fully on top of him. His growing hardness made contact, knocking the breath from him.

Still oblivious, Chu Yan breathed tauntingly in his ear, "Stop fronting. You’re ready to burst."

"You're jabbing me so hard my leg hurts."

Fu Junhang cursed under his breath. Sure enough, his patron was a shameless little tease who could flirt someone to death.

"Stop messing around. Be good."

Fu Junhang's breathing had grown hot, his words carrying the same searing heat. Suppressed to the limit, his voice came out in low, ragged gasps.

But the drunk wouldn't let up, clinging to him and shaking him again.

"I just want it now!"

"Now, immediately, right this instant!"

"This is an order."

Chu Yan, failing to coax, switched to outright demands. Suddenly, he crossed his legs around Fu Junhang's trim waist, squeezing and pulling, bringing them even closer—especially certain parts, where clothes were no barrier now.

"Be good. Your leg is injured. I'll hurt you."

Fu Junhang gritted his teeth as he spoke. He felt hurt too—aching from holding back.

But Chu Yan just wiggled his legs and whispered in his ear, "It's just my leg that's hurt, not there."

"If you're afraid of hurting me... then let me be on top?"

Fu Junhang’s last shred of restraint finally shattered at that moment, the fire in his eyes burning white-hot.

Yet, what truly undid him were the two words Chu Yan uttered next.

"Gege~