Chapter 132 Out of Control

Chapter 132: Losing Control

Lock him up? How could Zhan Jiayu even conceive of such a thought?

And Rong Qian and Ji Yangwen liking him? Impossible! What kind of nonsense was this?

And Senior Qin—Zhan Jiayu’s words sounded suspiciously like jealousy.

“Rong Qian and Ji Yangwen having feelings for me? How could that be? They used to bully me so much! And why wouldn’t he want me to interact with Senior Qin? Although he can be a bit handsy, he’s genuinely the person I’m closest to at Cangru Temple.”

Yan Zhoubai instantly pulled his hand from Zhan Jiayu’s grasp, shifting into a more comfortable position. His back straightened, signaling his intent to have a serious discussion with Zhan Jiayu.

As Yan Zhoubai withdrew his hand, Zhan Jiayu’s palm was left empty. He held it there for a few seconds, his thumb lightly caressing his fingers before slowly lowering it.

“Some people are just despicable. They only learn to cherish something after they’ve lost it, and only realize what they truly want after they’ve been trampled on.”

Zhan Jiayu’s tone was calm, and it was clear who he was referring to.

He had initially considered those individuals mere juniors, believing the bullying incident’s exposure would be lesson enough. He had no interest in further entanglement, yet he never imagined they would dare approach Yan Zhoubai again. If this were in Country A, he could guarantee they would never lay eyes on Yan Zhoubai again.

Yan Zhoubai was surprised that Zhan Jiayu would utter such harsh words, but it didn’t matter—he wasn’t wrong. Those people were never good to begin with. As for them having feelings for him, whether true or not, Yan Zhoubai would only distance himself further from them.

Liking him? The thought alone felt repulsive.

“What about Senior Qin? You’ve never even met him—why do you have such a strong opinion of him?”

Could it be that Qin Hemeng’s irritating nature was so potent it could attract animosity even from a distance?

“I haven’t met him, but it’s a gut feeling. I don’t like him.”

Just like his first impression of Yan Anxuan.

Yan Zhoubai scratched his head. His hair was already disheveled from tossing and turning in bed earlier, and after his ruthless scratching, it became even more tragically messy. Paired with his utterly bewildered expression, which almost seemed to have a giant question mark emblazoned on his face, he looked quite comical.

He didn’t understand, and he couldn’t argue back.

“I just said I wanted to lock you away. Were you scared?”

Zhan Jiayu smoothed Yan Zhoubai’s tousled hair with his hand and asked calmly.

“Not really, I just didn’t expect you to think that way.”

Although Yan Zhoubai’s eyes had widened when he first heard it, there was no fear in his dark pupils. The information in Zhan Jiayu’s words was simply too overwhelming—the first two points alone were shocking enough, leaving him no time for fear.

“If I really did lock you away, would you be angry with me?” Zhan Jiayu continued.

Yan Zhoubai blinked his round, almond-shaped eyes, thought for a moment, then touched his earlobe before speaking slowly: “Well, you’d have to be able to lock me up first.”

Yan Zhoubai didn’t take it seriously because he didn’t believe Zhan Jiayu could actually keep him confined.

Come on, he had trained at Cangru Temple, and he still possessed the talismans his master had given him. He was practically half a cultivator—hadn’t Zhan Jiayu ever read cultivation novels? Even though he couldn’t use magic, with talismans, he was still formidable. There was no way Zhan Jiayu could lock him up.

Ever since learning that magic truly existed in the world and that his master might actually be an immortal cultivator, Yan Zhoubai had transformed his initial shock into a quiet sense of pride, feeling a sense of shared honor.

Zhan Jiayu noticed Yan Zhoubai’s smug little look and couldn’t help but feel amused. How could Xiao Chuaner believe he couldn’t confine him? Didn’t he know what kind of business the Zhan family conducted in Country A, or the kind of people they dealt with daily? He knew Zhan Jiayu had the power and lacked high moral restraints—so why was he so confident?

“You don’t think I can do it?”

Zhan Jiayu raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious about what was going through the other’s mind. That smug little look was so vivid it made his teeth itch, wanting to bite something.

“But doing that would be illegal confinement, you know.”

Yan Zhoubai didn’t directly answer Zhan Jiayu’s question, but Zhan Jiayu could tell he was completely relaxed and not worried at all.

“It would certainly be illegal here, and if you disappeared, the Yan family would absolutely demand your return. Not to mention others, your dear older brother alone could probably tear down the Zhan family’s ancestral home. But what if I took you to Country A? That’s where my power base is.”

Zhan Jiayu’s implication was that in Country A, the Yan family would be powerless to intervene, and his influence there was far greater than Yan Zhoubai could imagine. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he could do as he pleased, acting with impunity.

Hearing that Zhan Jiayu might take him to Country A, Yan Zhoubai immediately dropped his relaxed demeanor.

Oh no, how could he have forgotten that? If he were taken to Country A, his talismans probably wouldn’t be of much use. He’d be in unfamiliar territory, and as the system had said, the Zhan family’s base in Country A was even more powerful than the local underworld—Zhan Jiayu would be like a local emperor there, and he’d have no chance of escape.

“Hmph, then I’d break up with you.”

Yan Zhoubai thought about it—if Zhan Jiayu really took him to Country A and locked him up, he’d be utterly helpless, with no way out. But if Zhan Jiayu went against his wishes like that, Yan Zhoubai would stop liking him.

Yan Zhoubai leaned forward and rested his head against Zhan Jiayu’s chest. “Why are you so insecure today? You’re jealous because of Rong Qian and the others, and because of my Senior Qin, aren’t you?”

He nuzzled against Zhan Jiayu’s chest, his voice muffled.

“I am jealous, but not because I’m insecure. It’s because I’m possessive and can’t stand seeing you get too close to anyone else. I want your attention to stay only on me.”

It sounded childish, like something a kid would say. Yan Zhoubai was about to laugh at Zhan Jiayu, but when he looked up, he saw the look in his eyes.

His dark pupils looked like still, dead water, but one could clearly sense the brewing storm beneath the surface.

Being stared at with such eyes made Yan Zhoubai feel as if he were being targeted by a wild beast. The hairs on his back stood on end, sending a chill down his spine.

…

That night, Yan Zhoubai was held down by Zhan Jiayu and kept in bed for a long time. Zhan Jiayu was much rougher than usual, just like the first time at the hot spring hotel. No matter how much Yan Zhoubai begged him to stop, he refused.

But Yan Zhoubai felt this time was different from the last. Even though they were intimately close, both drenched in sweat, Yan Zhoubai couldn’t shake the feeling of cold dread creeping up his spine. That night, Zhan Jiayu didn’t seem like the person he usually knew.

But the next morning, he was back to his usual self—massaging Yan Zhoubai’s waist, applying medicine for him, dressing him, carrying him to wash up. He still wasn’t happy about the trip to Cangru Temple, but his reaction wasn’t as intense as the day before. Yan Zhoubai even wondered if he’d been so exhausted the previous night that he’d hallucinated.

“You can go to Cangru Temple, but no staying overnight. I’ll pick you up.”

That was Zhan Jiayu’s only condition regarding Yan Zhoubai’s plan to set up a stall at Cangru Temple.

“I wasn’t planning to stay overnight anyway, and it’s not even certain whether this will work out. Although Cangru Temple accepts visitors, it’s not really a tourist spot—there’s no commercial development. I’m not sure if my master will even allow it.”

Yan Zhoubai took a bite of his fried egg, and the runny yolk immediately dribbled down his chin. He was eating with relish. The egg was fried by Zhan Jiayu—Yan Zhoubai could never get the heat right, always ending up with overcooked eggs that made the yolk dry and hard to swallow.

Zhan Jiayu sat beside Yan Zhoubai, naturally grabbing a tissue to wipe his mouth.

“It’s fine. Go back and see how it goes first. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll find you another place,” Zhan Jiayu said, taking a sip of coffee.

The capital was a big city, and there were plenty of other temples and shrines besides Cangru Temple. He could find Yan Zhoubai another place—somewhere with high-quality “clients,” where he could set up his stall in peace. He could even introduce him to a few clients.

Yan Zhoubai looked at Zhan Jiayu, somewhat puzzled. After a night’s sleep, why was he so agreeable today? Not only was he not opposed, but he was even offering to help.

Last night, Zhan Jiayu had admitted that he’d let his emotions get the better of him and allowed himself to lose control. He’d wanted to be rougher in bed, so he’d pushed Yan Zhoubai to exhaustion. Now, just by turning his head slightly, he could see the dense marks of kisses and bites beneath Yan Zhoubai’s collar—all left by him.

Last night in bed, those marks felt like medals of stimulation to him. But this morning, seeing Yan Zhoubai’s discomfort as his clothes rubbed against the little “wounds” he’d left behind, the gentlemanly demeanor that had temporarily vanished last night returned, and he felt the need to make it up to him.

He never intended to actually stop Yan Zhoubai from returning to Cangru Temple; it was just his own emotional outburst. Once he regained his composure, of course, everything had to go according to Yan Zhoubai's wishes.

"What kind of place?" Yan Zhoubai was somewhat curious.

"Great Compassion Temple."

When he first returned to the country, to observe diplomatic courtesy first and build good relations with those uncles of his, he visited a Daoist temple, a Buddhist monastery, and a Christian church in the capital. The Buddhist temple he went to was Great Compassion Temple.

"Ah? A temple?" His head drooped, a little disappointed.

"What? Do monks and you little Taoists have some professional rivalry?"