Chapter 6: It Really Doesn’t Taste Bitter Anymore

Chapter 6: It's Really Not Bitter Anymore

Qin Yan glanced at the messy floor, skipped the idle threats this time, and marched straight to the bedside, barking out orders coldly:

"Drink it! It's to nourish your body. If you don't, don't blame me for using other means."

Su Zhiyu didn't dare to smash the bowl this time, but still refused to drink.

The two of them stood locked in a silent standoff.

Qin Yan locked his gaze onto Su Zhiyu's pale lips—completely drained of color—and the man still wouldn't take the medicine, which somehow pissed him off even more.

He had no idea where the guts or the idea came from, but he inexplicably took a big swig himself and moved to feed it to him lip-to-lip.

The scent of rum washed over him, mingling with the sweet aroma of white peach as they intertwined once more. Su Zhiyu froze in shock for a split second, then quickly jerked his head away to dodge.

He hurriedly raised a hand to press against Qin Yan's shoulder, furious and mortified, his eyes rimmed with red: "Qin Yan!"

His voice ran naturally cold, and now, in his urgency, it carried a disbelieving tremor—so gorgeous it was almost lethal.

"Hm?"

This was the first time he'd heard Su Zhiyu call his name—cold and alluring. Qin Yan felt a jolt in his gut and swallowed the mouthful of bitter medicine.

"..."

"..."

Holy shit.

"Bitter, so bitter, gimme candy!"

Qin Yan clattered the bowl down, completely forgetting whether Su Zhiyu would drink the stuff, and sprinted out the door.

Even through the wall, you could hear him slurring about wanting candy.

Su Zhiyu's brow furrowed slightly.

Could it be... it really wasn't that kind of drug, just plain herbal medicine?

Su Zhiyu cautiously shifted his body, moving to the edge of the bed, reaching out to give the bowl a sniff.

Just as he leaned closer, the door slammed open again.

Su Zhiyu yanked his outstretched hand back immediately, his body tensed defensively as he stared at the door.

A maid barged in, hands on her hips, looking annoyed: "The young master says drink that medicine now, or he'll come feed it to you himself."

With that, she stood guard by the door like an executioner at the gallows.

Su Zhiyu waited. When she neither dragged him over nor cursed at him, he found it a little odd.

Was this part of Qin Yan's warning too?

"Hurry up and drink, stop dawdling. I don't know why we even keep you—a freeloading ingrate who eats for free every day."

"..."

Su Zhiyu let the insults roll off him, staring at the bowl of meds. His mind suddenly flashed back to Qin Yan leaning in with the medicine in his mouth.

Qin Yan's pheromone scent was rum, laced with faint fruity sweetness. When it mingled with his own white peach scent, there was surprisingly no clash.

In that moment he'd leaned in, his eyes had reflected Su Zhiyu's own image.

Pure and clean.

Was all of that just an act by Qin Yan?

Just as he frowned, lost in thought, hurried footsteps echoed from outside the door, along with Qin Yan's voice: "Has he drunk it or not?"

Shit.

Qin Yan was back.

Su Zhiyu's face turned flustered. He didn't dare gamble on the young master's mood swings, so he quickly grabbed the bowl and gulped it down in two big swallows.

The intense bitterness scrunched his whole face up. He frantically grabbed the corner of the blanket to cover his mouth, looking like he was about to puke.

The maid watched him, smirked smugly, and called out to the door in a sycophantic tone: "Young master, he's drunk it. I was watching."

"Good, as long as he drank it. Get the room cleaned up."

"Yes, young master."

A sharp glint flashed through Su Zhiyu's eyes. He discreetly tucked the soaked corner of the blanket underneath, pretending he'd downed the whole thing.

Qin Yan didn't catch his little trick at all. He only saw his furrowed brow and grinned like an idiot.

"Well? Didn't poison you, did I?"

Su Zhiyu stayed silent.

Qin Yan didn't care. He plopped down on the edge of the bed and held out his palm: "Here, for you. This stuff won't kill you, but it'll kill you with bitterness. The young master's feeling generous today—here's a piece of candy."

Su Zhiyu hesitated, not daring to reach for it.

Something was seriously off.

Everything about Qin Yan today was weird. Sure, his tone was still annoying sometimes, but his behavior was strangely out of character.

What the hell was he trying to do?

The intense psychological pressure was crushing Su Zhiyu.

For the past year, he'd been walking on eggshells, carefully tiptoeing around Qin Yan's moods. Painful as it was, at least he could usually read Qin Yan's thoughts.

Now... he couldn't figure the guy out at all.

"Want me to feed it to you?"

Qin Yan smoothly peeled the wrapper off, not giving Su Zhiyu a chance to refuse, and popped the white peach candy into his mouth with a quick flick.

His cool fingertips brushed against Su Zhiyu's lips, enveloped in their warmth, mixed with the sweet fragrance. Qin Yan's fingers tingled, frozen against his lips.

Su Zhiyu's gorgeous peach blossom eyes flickered, completely caught off guard.

He...

How could he...

Su Zhiyu's ten fingers clenched tightly, his expression turning dark.

Qin Yan quickly withdrew his hand.

"Uh, peach-flavored hard candy, it's good."

Qin Yan explained awkwardly, habitually raising a hand to touch the tip of his nose, the warm, damp sensation reaching his fingertips.

Shit.

His finger... had just been in Su Zhiyu's mouth, hadn't it?

The two locked eyes, and the tension in the air became palpable.

Su Zhiyu noticed his nose-touching and finger-glancing movements, and naturally thought of the earlier lip-finger contact, his lips pressed into an even thinner line.

From an angle no one noticed, the young man's pale ears quietly reddened. Peach... that was his pheromone scent.

Did Qin Yan do it on purpose, or was it an accident?

Actually, it really was an accident.

The villa only had peach-flavored candies, probably left by the original owner. Whether he picked that flavor on purpose—that's a question for the original owner.

Crack.

Qin Yan bit through the peach hard candy in his mouth, the sound jarringly loud in the silence.

"Well, after eating the candy, it shouldn't be bitter anymore, right? Continue taking the medicine tomorrow. I'm sleepy, going back to bed."

With that, Qin Yan bolted out the door, all stiff and awkward, and shooed away the extra maid too.

Su Zhiyu lowered his eyelids, letting the refreshing sweetness linger on his tongue, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It really didn't taste bitter anymore.

...

Qin Yan had been holed up in the villa for nearly a week. Thanks to the reader's god's-eye view, he quickly got used to his new identity and reached a key plot point.

By then, the original owner had already been messing with Su Zhiyu for almost a year.

Su Zhiyu made his debut at 17 and was now 19, and had landed a high-visibility show opportunity through his own hard work.

It was a competition show that picked 20 male artists between 18 and 25, covering singing, dancing, and acting, with the goal of forming a well-rounded four-member group.

The show was a huge hit, already on its third season.

With rotating challenges, random contestants, and a mix of recorded and live segments, plenty of no-name newcomers hoped to blow up through this show.

Su Zhiyu included.

He was a bit of a name among rookies, but in the industry as a whole, he was still a nobody.

To make quick cash, he needed to grow his fanbase fast, so he'd have more options.

In the original story, the original owner had also found a way onto this show, both to mess with Su Zhiyu and to keep tabs on him.

Since he was already here, he had to come prepared.

The first episode was a solo round. Contestants got one day to record their first performance on-site, and mentors scored them on quality.

Qin Yan had studied music, so regardless of what others picked, he chose to sing.

Two days later, it was showtime.

Maybe thanks to the plot, the original owner's little villa was close to the studio—less than an hour's drive away.

Qin Yan woke up early that day. He was too pumped.

This was his first time on a show, so he'd sing "Trapped," a song he performed during his art school entrance exam (no original song, made up).

Qin Yan hastily ate some breakfast, glanced upstairs several times without seeing anyone come down, and couldn't help asking the butler, "Where's Su Zhiyu? Isn't he up yet?"

The young butler shook his head: "No, Mr. Su left an hour ago."

"What?"