Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Huo Yanshen glanced at his thumb. The tiny hole pierced by the pen tip should have scabbed over by now, but it had been torn open again when he'd picked Shen Ling up just now, leaving a thin red line.

"It's nothing."

Shen Ling struggled to turn on the bedside lamp and leaned over to look at his hand. "It wasn't there this morning. How did it show up at night? What happened?"

Huo Yanshen said, "Just poked it."

Shen Ling muttered quietly, "How could you be so careless..."

He squirmed out from under the blanket, turned, and crawled to the edge of the bed, stretching his arm to reach the bottom drawer of the nightstand.

Shen Ling's upper body leaned over the edge of the bed. His sleep pants hugged the curve of his ass as he tilted upward, and his shirt hem rode up with the movement, revealing a strip of flawless pale skin at his waist. The dimples at the small of his back deepened slightly, and following the curve of his spine downward, everything was soft, full curves.

Huo Yanshen's gaze paused for a moment, then flicked away, then back to his face.

Shen Ling didn't notice a thing. He dug around in the drawer and pulled out a small first-aid kit, then pulled out iodine swabs and gauze from it. He crawled back and sat cross-legged across from Huo Yanshen, pulling Huo Yanshen's hand onto his knee.

"Left hand, next to the index finger... don't move."

Shen Ling lowered his head, dipped a cotton swab in iodine, and carefully applied it to the wound.

A faint jasmine scent hung on him—whether from body wash or shampoo, it was hard to tell. As he moved around, it drifted out from his collar and sleeves, like a jasmine candy fresh out of its wrapper.

Shen Ling wrapped the gauze around twice and finished it off with a lopsided little knot that sat crooked on the side of his finger.

Huo Yanshen looked at the bow, a faint glimmer in his eyes.

Shen Ling also glanced at the knot he'd tied and immediately reached out to undo it: "Wait, let me fix it..."

Huo Yanshen wrapped his hand around Shen Ling's.

His palm was dry and warm, covering the back of Shen Ling's hand completely.

"It looks nice."

Shen Ling looked up, his eyes meeting Huo Yanshen's.

Huo Yanshen lowered his eyes, slowly sweeping his gaze across Shen Ling's face before finally settling on his pursed lips.

"It's late. You should go to sleep."

Shen Ling let out an "oh" and waited for Huo Yanshen to wrap him up in his arms again, blanket and all, like before.

But after a few seconds, Huo Yanshen still didn't move.

He hesitated and looked up, only to realize that the arm around him had loosened without him noticing, now resting loosely over the blanket on his back.

Shen Ling pressed his lips together and quietly inched closer to Huo Yanshen.

But he felt Huo Yanshen's body lean back almost unnoticeably, creating a little more distance.

Shen Ling's lashes drooped.

It was probably because he'd sounded too harsh while bandaging the wound. Huo Yanshen had been kind enough to hold him and comfort him, and yet he'd spoken to him in that tone—anyone would be upset.

But Shen Ling still wasn't ready to give up.

Just one last time. If Huo Yanshen still didn't respond, he'd really go to sleep.

He inched his way toward Huo Yanshen like a slow caterpillar, and even turned his head to cough a few times in a totally obvious attempt to cover it up.

And sure enough.

This time, Huo Yanshen didn't pull away.

Huo Yanshen picked up the water glass from the nightstand, propped Shen Ling up with one hand, and brought the rim of the glass to his lips. Shen Ling took two sips from the glass.

After setting the glass down, Huo Yanshen's arm slid under the blanket and pulled Shen Ling back into his embrace.

But he wasn't holding him as tightly as before. Shen Ling could feel that Huo Yanshen's posture was a bit stiff.

What's going on? Why is he lying so... stiffly?

"Are you feeling okay?" Shen Ling lifted his head slightly, his sleepy eyes struggling to focus on Huo Yanshen's face.

"No," Huo Yanshen said softly.

Maybe I'm just imagining things.

Shen Ling didn't have the energy to figure it out. He let his head drop back onto Huo Yanshen's chest.

Huo Yanshen's hand patted Shen Ling's back in a slow, absentminded rhythm. Shen Ling was already exhausted, and the patting made his eyelids droop.

But he still remembered one thing, prying his eyes open a sliver. "I can fall asleep on my own... you don't have to sit here with me."

"I'll leave once you fall asleep," Huo Yanshen said.

"...Oh." Shen Ling managed to add, "Then you have to leave once I'm asleep, okay?"

He absolutely couldn't let Huo Yanshen hear him talk in his sleep. No way.

Huo Yanshen: "Mm."

Only then did Shen Ling close his eyes, relieved.

He started to drift off completely. In a hazy daze, Shen Ling vaguely felt something warm and damp at his ear.

Something warm and soft brushed against his earlobe, trailing slowly down the edge, accompanied by hot, low breathing. It pressed against his earlobe with a soft, firm press.

Shen Ling's brows furrowed slightly, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, only a soft, sleepy whimper escaped.

The next morning, the first thing Shen Ling did when he woke up was touch his ear.

His earlobe felt hot and slightly swollen in one spot. He ran to the bathroom mirror and looked—his ear was red in a big patch, especially the earlobe, so red it looked like it might bleed.

Shen Ling touched the red mark in the mirror and muttered, "What kind of mosquito bites like this..."

He dug out the anti-itch spray and spritzed it at his ear a few times in annoyance.

The scent of the spray quickly filled the bathroom, but Shen Ling was the one who ended up choking on it.

The pungent menthol mixed with alcohol hit his nose hard. He jerked his head away and doubled over, coughing violently.

One hand braced against the edge of the sink, tears welling up in his eyes from the irritation. After all that, his chest started feeling tight again.

The bedroom door swung open. "What's wrong?"

Huo Yanshen walked over to the bathroom door in a few steps and saw Shen Ling coughing so hard he was doubled over like a shrimp. His brows furrowed as he reached out, placed his hand on Shen Ling's arched back, and smoothed it down in long, soothing strokes.

"Are you okay?"

His broad, warm palm slowly traced down Shen Ling's slender spine, just enough to help him get through the coughing fit.

Shen Ling coughed a few more times before finally calming down. His nose was red, making him look a bit of a mess.

"...I'm fine," Shen Ling said, rubbing the corner of his eye with the back of his hand. "I just sprayed too much mosquito repellent and it stung my throat."

Huo Yanshen frowned. "Why did you spray mosquito repellent?"

Shen Ling tilted his right ear toward Huo Yanshen, poking his earlobe with his finger, his voice sounding a little put-out. "A mosquito bit me last night. Look, it's a whole patch."

Huo Yanshen followed the direction of his finger.

That ear was small and delicate, with fine contours. Under the warm yellow light of the bathroom, it glowed with a soft, translucent pink.

The earlobe was soft, like a peach-flavored jelly straight from the fridge—so tender it seemed it would quiver at the slightest touch. The red mark on the earlobe stood out vividly, bright crimson.

It was clearly a bite mark.

Huo Yanshen looked away, his tone calm. "Mm, there are mosquitoes."

"I'll have the housekeeper deal with it later."

Shen Ling nodded vigorously, thinking that sounded perfectly reasonable.

*

After breakfast, Shen Ling lounged on the sofa, surrounded by medicine bottles big and small.

He opened the memo app on his phone and scrolled to the page where he tracked his meds.

Shen Ling stared at the screen, his brain churning. "Is today an odd day or an even day again..."

He checked the calendar, then went back and counted the days again, his brows furrowing deeper.

Huo Yanshen walked over from the dining table. "Check your wristband."

Shen Ling looked up, blinking. "Huh?"

"The wristband has a medication schedule," Huo Yanshen said.

Only then did Shen Ling remember the new thing on his wrist.

He raised his wrist and tapped the screen. A warm, cozy farm interface glowed to life. A little pig hopped out from the top left corner, and three words popped up at the bottom: Medication Schedule.

He tapped into it.

All the meds he needed to take today—names, dosages, and times—were listed out clearly, line by line.

Behind each medication was a small note indicating whether to take it on an empty or full stomach, and which ones needed to be taken half an hour apart.

Shen Ling picked out his morning meds according to the schedule, swallowed them with warm water, then curled back into the sofa and started poking at the wristband with interest.

He tapped out a little sheep that could photograph and identify meals, estimate daily calorie intake, and would bounce around happily when goals were met. You could raise chickens in the barn, ducks in the pond, and each daily check-in unlocked a different animal.

Shen Ling scrolled through the screen idly, then his finger suddenly stopped.

In the bottom right corner of the farm, a little orange lucky cat was curled up, a small bell around its neck, one paw raised to wave at him.

Every other animal had a progress bar or check-in prompt under it, but this cat had nothing—just an empty flowerpot icon.

He tapped it. The cat waved. He tapped again. It waved again.

Nothing popped up at all.

Shen Ling frowned and shoved his wrist in front of Huo Yanshen.

"What's this little cat? All the others have prompts, but this one doesn't. It just waves at me."

Huo Yanshen set the documents on his lap, his tone matter-of-fact. "Minimum monthly spending."

Shen Ling froze. "Monthly... max spending?"

His brain automatically rewrote those words.

...Was he being monitored on his spending?

"Oh," Shen Ling said, trying to keep his face neutral. "So I can't spend more than five million a month. Got it."

Huo Yanshen frowned. "Minimum."

"...?"

As if worried Shen Ling hadn't understood, Huo Yanshen said slowly, enunciating each word: "Every month, you need to spend at least five million."

Shen Ling: o.O!

Shen Ling struggled to get the words out. "...W-Wait. Are you saying that if I don't spend five million in a month, there'll be a problem?"

"Mm."

Shen Ling: "What kind of problem?"

Huo Yanshen tapped a few times on his tablet, then tilted his head toward the screen, gesturing for Shen Ling to look. "I've already linked your card to my main account. If you don't spend enough, the cat'll starve."

Shen Ling looked down. A progress bar had appeared above the lucky cat's head, with a label beside it:

This month's total spending: ¥0.

The progress bar was empty, and the cat's eyes had gone from happy little slits to pitifully wide ones, its whiskers drooping.

It was now scratching at the edge of the screen with its little paw, as if to say, "If you don't spend money, what am I supposed to do?"

Shen Ling felt his heart lurch.

So cute!!

And honestly, compared to how Huo Yanshen used to spank him left and right in his past life, this was way gentler.

Shen Ling lowered his head, suddenly feeling guilty. "You work so hard, setting all this up for me."

Huo Yanshen picked up the warm water from the nightstand and handed it to him. "I was worried you'd try to save money."

He paused, then added, "Five million is just the starting point. It won't stay at this number forever. Take your time to get used to it first. Once you're comfortable, we'll raise it."

Shen Ling: "...R-Raise it?"

Huo Yanshen said matter-of-factly, "Of course we'll raise it. It'll only increase from here. You need to get used to it early."

Shen Ling, at a loss for how to respond, could only feign taking the cup and sip from it.

He suddenly remembered something: "By the way, about that banquet a month from now, who's the host? You still haven't given me the full rundown."

Huo Yanshen picked up an invitation from the desk and handed it to Shen Ling. "It's my cousin Chen Xitong's private yacht party."

Shen Ling took the invitation and opened it. The gold-embossed lettering displayed the time and location, signed with a looping English name.

Christine Chen.

...

A month later, Chen Xitong's private yacht party went off as planned on the open sea.

Shen Ling boarded the yacht with Huo Yanshen. A three-deck superyacht sat anchored in the moonlight, and most of the guests were the nouveau riche from the port city and the island harbor.

What Shen Ling hadn't counted on was that the pearl brooch he'd designed himself would be pinned to the collar of Chen Xitong's qipao on the spot. Two weeks later, an invitation from the curatorial committee of the Global Jewelry Biennale would quietly arrive in his inbox.

As for a certain Professor Liu, he would "accidentally fall overboard" at the party, suffer multiple fractures when he was pulled out, and shortly after returning to the port city, news would spread of his severe mental illness.

He would announce he was putting down his brush for good, never to paint again.

Some rules that applied on shore no longer held sway at sea.