Warning: Adult Content (R18)

 

The weather was rather mild the next morning. Sunlight streamed through the window, its inclined rays caressing the bare thighs of the two people still lost in a drunken sleep.

Xiao Han, still groggy, stirred and turned over. As his hands and legs bumped against something soft and warm, an odd sense of unease pricked at him. Blinking open his eyes with difficulty, he felt a dull throbbing in his temples.

Rubbing the space between his eyebrows, he finally noticed the naked man still sleeping soundly beside him.

…Last night, in the bathroom, we seemed to have…
Why can’t I remember what happened after that?

Xiao Han frowned, racking his brain, but it was a blank. His gaze eventually landed on Wen Muyan’s raised buttocks, and something flickered in his eyes—a sudden decision.

Sitting upright, he reached out a hand and waved it in front of Wen Muyan’s face. Then he leaned in close to his ear and whispered softly, “McDonald’s? McDonald’s?”

Confirming that the man was still asleep, Xiao Han squatted down beside his leg and, in a rather obscene manner, spread his buttocks apart to inspect carefully.

The hole looked… normal. No redness, no swelling, no hemorrhoids. Most importantly, there was no suspicious cold, white fluid.

Given all these signs of normalcy, Xiao Han suddenly felt a wave of anxiety.

…Wait. Don’t tell me I was the one who got fucked last night?

Even though the idea seemed absurd, Xiao Han instinctively looked away. Kneeling, he lifted himself and reached behind to feel his own buttocks. After confirming there was no pain and everything felt intact, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and turned back around—

—only to find a pair of dark eyes staring silently at him!

Xiao Han froze, completely blanking out from the shock.

Then he heard Wen Muyan murmur, voice hazy with sleep, “Xiao Han taking the initiative to accompany me? I must still be dreaming…”

His head fell back onto the pillow, and he slipped into slumber once more.

“…”

Xiao Han’s face turned extremely gloomy. He swore to the heavens that one day, he would kill this man, mutilate him, and impregnate him.

In the meantime, he leisurely got out of bed and got dressed. Slipping on Wen Muyan’s slippers, he kicked his own shoes under the bed and “kindly” picked up Mr. Wen’s clothes to send them off for washing.

“Young Master, you’re finally awake. Did you sleep well last night? I waited downstairs with a few others at the hotel where you’re staying and asked the attendant to deliver breakfast…”

“Okay, I know.” Xiao Han took a sip of milk, interrupting Xian Fu’s chatter. “How’s the situation at home?”

“It’s fine. It’s just that Young Master Zhuo tried to escape several times yesterday but failed. He injured his leg in the process, but I’ve already had a doctor look at him. It’s nothing serious—he just won’t be getting out of bed for a few days.”

At that, Xiao Han couldn’t help but sneer. “Not bad. I can finally enjoy some peace and quiet for the next few days.”

“Does the young master have any other instructions?”

“Go back for now.” Xiao Han glanced at the clock. According to the script, he was supposed to visit the injured Zhuo Fan in the afternoon, but there was still time to kill before that.

“Yes, young master.”

“Wait,” Xiao Han switched his phone from his left to his right hand. Glancing at the half-closed door, he added softly, “Bring two sets of clean clothes in my size. Including underwear.”

“Understood, young master.” Hanging up, Xian Fu—who treated his master’s words with absolute reverence—immediately and solemnly made his way toward the clothing store.

*

Wen Muyan was woken by hunger. His stomach growled, and he scratched his messy hair. His nose twitched at the scent of breakfast wafting from the other room—but he soon realized something embarrassing: his clothes and slippers were gone!

He immediately guessed the culprit. Was this idiot really trying to reenact the story of the farmer stealing the fairy’s clothes?

(NT: A reference to a traditional Chinese legend in which a man steals the clothes of a bathing fairy to force her into marriage.)

Wrapping a towel around his waist to maintain a shred of dignity, Wen Muyan walked barefoot out of the room. Sure enough, he found Xiao Han calmly holding a newspaper and biting into an apple, looking like someone waiting to enjoy the aftermath of a prank.

“Xiao Han, where did you hide my clothes?” Wen Muyan sat down, still naked, and grabbed a piece of bread to stuff into his mouth.

Xiao Han peeked out from behind the newspaper with a wicked smile. “I sent them to the laundry. Including your underwear.”

Wen Muyan slammed the table in indignation. “Where is your humanity?”

Xiao Han met his gaze. “She never existed.”

“…Cut it out.” Wen Muyan rubbed his forehead, speechless. As he started eating, he muttered, “I didn’t even do anything to you last night. Why are you being so petty… As expected, hoping you’d obediently sit on me and serve me was just a dream…”

Seemingly recalling an erotic dream, he began chuckling foolishly.

Though he was speaking quietly, Xiao Han—endowed by the script with an unnaturally keen sense of hearing—caught every word. His face darkened shade by shade until, at last, he threw the newspaper aside and snapped coldly, “What are you laughing at over there?”

Wen Muyan, his cheeks puffed with bread, chewed slowly, then swallowed and grinned. “Oh, nothing much. It’s not like I laughed myself to death like someone…”

“…”

Xiao Han froze like a paused recording. With an expressionless face, he picked the newspaper back up and resumed reading it just as blankly.

“Hey, idiot! Your diary’s upside down!” Xian Fu, though loyal to the inhuman Young Master Xiao, still retained a touch of human decency.

Finally dressed, Wen Muyan felt a little heartbroken. The clothes were clearly too big. But with others present, he couldn’t complain, so he gave Xiao Han a glance heavy with implication—as if to say ‘we’ll meet again’—before heading out.

*

Having stalled as long as he could, Xiao Han eventually returned home, dragging his feet.

The bodyguard posted outside Zhuo Fan’s room caught sight of his master’s gloomy expression and didn’t even dare breathe too loudly. He quietly closed the door without a word.

“Xiao Han, what did you do to Muyan?”

Zhuo Fan, who had been lying in bed like a corpse, immediately sat up when he heard the door. Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to get out of bed—but Xiao Han dragged him back and pinned him down again.

“I didn’t expect your relationship with him to be so good,” Xiao Han said, holding his shoulder down. “I was going to let him visit you, but now I’m tempted to change my mind.”

His hand gripped Zhuo Fan’s shoulder while pressing him into the mattress. A pair of dark eyes stared down at him, cold and full of restrained fury. Zhuo Fan found it hard to breathe under that gaze.

He bit his lip, but his flustered expression couldn’t mask the joy in his eyes.

Xiao Han noticed—and grew even more enraged. But he didn’t understand the root of that fury.

Wasn’t Zhuo Fan just a pawn? A tool to help him take control of the Zhuo family?

So why did it enrage him so much to hear Zhuo Fan call out Wen Muyan’s name?

Could it be…

“Tell me,” Xiao Han said, narrowing his eyes. “Have you fallen for that guy Wen? Have you ever slept with him?”

His fingers slid from Zhuo Fan’s trembling lips to his delicate neck, slowly tightening their grip.

Zhuo Fan’s eyes widened in disbelief, his cheeks flushing red as he gasped for breath. “What nonsense are you spouting?! Muyan is my buddy! Xiao Han, you can take revenge on me, you can hate me, but how can you doubt me like this? Muyan grew up with me! Now that you’ve locked me up, of course he’s worried and trying to get me out.

“As for you, no matter what I say, you never believe me! The only one in your heart is that dead Liang Chenli! Go ahead and strangle me if you want—whatever! I don’t want to see your face again!”

With that, he shut his reddened eyes, no longer struggling, and silently waited for the end.

Xiao Han let out a cold snort and suddenly released him. Then, without a word, he began undressing. As expected, Zhuo Fan’s eyes snapped open again, filled with both pain and rage.

“Zhuo Fan, listen to me,” Xiao Han said, his tone cutting and fierce. “Even if that guy Wen comes to visit you—he’ll never get to touch you!”

His voice boomed with anger. Every movement was rough, driven by a barely controlled desire. Just as Zhuo Fan braced himself for humiliation yet again, a sudden knock broke the tension.

“Young Master, there’s a call for you,” came the voice from outside. “They said it’s a matter of life and death.”

Xiao Han froze. Without hesitation, he sprang up like a startled rabbit and bolted out of the room as if fleeing a fire.

Once inside his office with the door firmly locked, Xiao Han grabbed the phone and roared, “You bastard! That was way too close! If you’d called a second later, I would’ve ended up doing something I’d regret!”

Wen Muyan’s voice came calmly through the line. “Oh? And here I thought you might consider that I’m a very busy person.”

Xiao Han took a deep breath and sipped some tea to steady himself. “Relax. Even if you hadn’t called, I wouldn’t have gone through with it. According to the script, the scene fades to black, whether I harass him all night or we just sleep until morning.”

“…Who said I was worried?”

Xiao Han grinned smugly. “Then who made seventeen missed calls?”

“…”

Wen Muyan coughed lightly. “Is the entire script just sex? Why is it that no matter if you’re angry, jealous, or hell-bent on revenge, you always go straight for Zhuo Fan’s hole—tease his hole, tease his hole, tease his hole again?”

Xiao Han rolled his eyes. “How would I know? And besides, why is it that both of us are jealous, but the top gets consumed by lust, while the bottom is always furious and in tears? We’re both men—why is the difference between us so damn dramatic?”

Listening to him rant, Wen Muyan suddenly burst out laughing. “The script says the deal happens in three days. Should I come pick you up tomorrow?”

“Be careful. Don’t let the guards spot you.” Xiao Han sifted mentally through the next few scenes. Apart from Zhuo Fan’s daily escape attempts—as if completing a routine side quest—there didn’t seem to be anything of note.

“Relax. Getting in is like a walk through a garden.”

Without replying, Xiao Han hung up.

But after that, he made a few adjustments to his security detail—just enough to allow a certain someone to sneak in and make a few quiet moves without drawing the script’s attention.

*

The following evening, Wen Muyan slipped in. It was just after dinner, during the shift change.

Scaling the second floor like a lizard on the wall, he was shocked to suddenly see another lizard—Zhuo Fan—also on the wall, clearly in the middle of an escape attempt!

The two lizards froze mid-climb and stared at each other.

Zhuo Fan was first to react—eyes wide, overwhelmed with emotion, tears welling up. “Muyan! You came to save me?!”

Wen Muyan was stunned too, but there wasn’t a trace of joy in his expression. His face twisted, and he stared down at the hand Zhuo Fan had grabbed. With clear reluctance, he answered, “Ah… Yes…”

Zhuo Fan dragged him onto a small balcony and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. “Muyan, why are you being so good to me? I’m not worth it…”

Your damn ass! Wen Muyan screamed in his heart. I came for Xiao Han!

The wind howled. A horse neighed in the distance. Wen Muyan roared silently inside: Get lost and go role-play on your own, you gay disaster!

The weak and helpless Wen Muyan looked down at Zhuo Fan’s arms, clamped around him like iron bars. Tears streamed down his face, carried away by the wind.

This was a tragedy. Truly, a tragic tale.

 

Translator : DarNan