Chen Zemian fell into a magical dream.
The warm magma turned into seawater, sweeping toward him continuously, as if trying to drown him.
It seemed he could no longer get oxygen from the air.
Chen Zemian clenched his palms tightly. From the excessive force, his slender fingers tensed, his knuckles turned white, and even his nails bent slightly. His mind went blank, and he felt as if his soul had drifted away. His consciousness kept fading, falling into a deeper and more distant dream.
Chen Zemian had a casual and free-spirited personality, and his self-control was essentially zero. He was unwilling to exert too much effort when facing difficulties and was highly skilled at letting things go. He struggled for less than 0.1 seconds before deciding to deal with it later.
There weren’t so many absolutes—no strict rights or wrongs. Principles were frivolous, hollow, and conventional.
Chen Zemian was like a machine running on a variable speed. He could no longer think, as if he had melted into a pool of water, drifting away with the waves.
Lu Zhuonian looked at Chen Zemian silently. His dark eyes were filled with a sharp, cold light.
His Adam’s apple moved slightly.
Chen Zemian jolted awake from the dream. His pupils contracted violently. He sprang up from the bed, reached out to pinch Lu Zhuonian’s chin, and was too shocked to speak.
Lu Zhuonian’s expression didn’t change. He simply said, “It’s your turn.”
Chen Zemian: “…”
For the first time, he felt the horror of sexual addiction so intuitively.
People really do lose their rationality and become beasts.
Even his mysophobia vanished.
No wonder Lu Zhuonian repeatedly emphasized that desire could strip away reason and control.
It was true. Even healthy and sober people could easily get lost in a sea of desire—let alone someone like Lu Zhuonian, who suffered from sexual addiction and had already lost most of his rationality.
While thinking this, Chen Zemian caught the scent of flowers.
There was also a faint aroma of cedar.
Cedar essential oil has antibacterial, astringent, softening, and antifungal effects. All of Lu Zhuonian’s underwear had been fumigated with cedar, so he always carried a clean, fresh pine scent.
The two scents blended—not unpleasantly.
Lu Zhuonian urged, “Hurry up.”
Before Chen Zemian could respond, Lu Zhuonian interrupted him.
With a blank expression, Lu Zhuonian tugged at his hair. “Chen Zemian, I gave you what you wanted. Are you going to break the deal now?”
Chen Zemian still tried to resist but couldn’t find a good excuse to bargain.
Hormones influence thoughts and behavior.
The so-called bottom line had lost its sacredness and rigidity.
Moreover, with the priceless Lu Zhuonian setting the precedent, leading by example, the whole thing suddenly didn’t seem so unacceptable.
Chen Zemian easily convinced himself.
Fine. He had taken advantage, hadn’t said no. Backing out now wouldn’t be reasonable.
Humans are far more adaptable than we think. That’s right—before this, Chen Zemian had never imagined he’d help Lu Zhuonian treat his illness in such a strange way. But when the moment arrived, it wasn’t as hard to accept as he’d expected.
Chen Zemian raised his head, his dark blue eyelashes trembling.
But Lu Zhuonian knew what kind of strength was hidden in Chen Zemian’s seemingly delicate frame.
Yet in front of him, Chen Zemian was always so easygoing.
Lu Zhuonian burned with heat, his possessiveness growing more twisted and intense.
So he didn’t torment Chen Zemian for long. He let go of him easily—this person who stirred his every nerve. Chen Zemian looked at Lu Zhuonian, slightly surprised.
Lu Zhuonian lifted his hand, gently traced Chen Zemian’s lips with his fingers, and said softly yet firmly, “It’s okay.”
Chen Zemian felt as if he’d been pardoned. His mouth was covered by Lu Zhuonian’s hand, so he couldn’t speak. He simply tilted his head and nodded.
When it was all over, Lu Zhuonian returned to his usual bored expression.
Seeing that look, Chen Zemian knew Lu Zhuonian’s reason had returned. Guilt and regret followed.
Especially for someone as self-disciplined and controlled as Lu Zhuonian, what had just happened might be deeply unacceptable.
The heat hadn’t fully dissipated, but a layer of cold ice quickly replaced it.
Lu Zhuonian’s high emotions plummeted. He sat still like a statue carved from ice—motionless and silent.
Eventually, his gaze shifted to the red and blue marks on Chen Zemian’s wrist.
Chen Zemian followed his line of sight and said, “It’s okay.”
Lu Zhuonian lowered his eyelids slightly. “Why didn’t you dodge?”
Chen Zemian’s thoughts wandered. “I didn’t expect you to be serious. By the time I wanted to dodge, you had already…”
Seeing Lu Zhuonian’s puzzled expression, Chen Zemian suddenly realized, “Oh, you meant when you grabbed my wrist.”
Lu Zhuonian’s voice was heavy with guilt. “There’s more than one thing out of control now. There will be more in the future.”
Chen Zemian didn’t mind. Now wasn’t the time for blame—nothing was more important than the patient’s emotional stability.
“We’ll worry about the future later,” Chen Zemian said lightly, then asked, “Are you feeling better this time?”
Lu Zhuonian replied, “Yeah.”
Chen Zemian let out a breath of relief. “As long as it works. It’s better than taking medicine.”
Lu Zhuonian looked at him, doubtful. “You really think this is better than medicine?”
Chen Zemian checked the time. “It took over 40 minutes, but compared to the ongoing side effects of medication, this impact is still milder.”
Lu Zhuonian rubbed his fingertips unconsciously. “Taking medicine only affects me. This… affects you.”
Chen Zemian replied casually, “I don’t feel affected.”
Lu Zhuonian’s dark eyes reflected Chen Zemian’s flushed lips, his expression filled with unshakable self-blame. “I made you do something you didn’t want to do.”
Chen Zemian reassured him, “It’s mutual. If I didn’t want to, could you really have forced me?”
Lu Zhuonian didn’t answer. He just leaned against the wall, his face hidden in shadow. The light slipping through the curtain gaps didn’t reach him.
He looked broken.
Chen Zemian worried he might spiral into depression and die, so he quickly acted to show he truly didn’t mind.
He grasped Lu Zhuonian’s arm firmly. “I really don’t feel reluctant.”
Lu Zhuonian’s lashes fluttered. He slowly lifted his eyes, full of disbelief.
Chen Zemian nodded seriously. “Really.”
Lu Zhuonian’s voice was low. “But you didn’t want to at first.”
Chen Zemian said, “But I agreed later.”
“That was because my behavior stimulated you,” Lu Zhuonian analyzed coldly. “After stimulation, dopamine and endorphins flood the system, driving people to pursue pleasure and satisfaction. You were overwhelmed by hormones, unable to think clearly. When you wake up…”
Chen Zemian didn’t want to listen to the lecture. He pressed Lu Zhuonian’s shoulders, trying to push him down.
No movement.
“Your core strength is impressive,” Chen Zemian muttered, rolling his neck and rolling up his sleeves. “Guess fitness works.”
Lu Zhuonian didn’t understand what he was doing. His gaze fell on Chen Zemian’s wrist.
But Chen Zemian used all his strength and finally pushed him down.
Lu Zhuonian’s back hit the not-so-soft mattress. Chen Zemian’s beautiful dark brows loomed above him.
Chen Zemian looked down and said, “I’m not overwhelmed by hormones now. So you’ll know whether I’m truly willing.”
Lu Zhuonian’s pupils contracted. He stared at Chen Zemian in disbelief.
Chen Zemian’s voice was firm. “Lu Zhuonian, not everyone likes to overanalyze like you do.”
Lu Zhuonian curled his fingers, gently holding Chen Zemian’s wrist.
Chen Zemian took the opportunity to hug him. “Life’s too short. I don’t have time to debate whether everything I do is right or wrong. Isn’t it better to just enjoy life while we’re alive?”
Lu Zhuonian tightened his arms around his only antidote.
In the quiet, desolate air, warmth slowly filled his empty chest. Chen Zemian’s body heat seeped through skin and bone.
He became more and more dependent on Chen Zemian.
Like a traveler lost in the desert, hugging him was like embracing an oasis.
They didn’t speak again.
After a few seconds—or perhaps more than ten—Chen Zemian moved.
He placed a hand on Lu Zhuonian’s chest and pushed him away. “No need to hug so long. Too ambiguous, brother.”
Lu Zhuonian laughed—unclear whether from anger or amusement.
It’s already come to this, and that’s what makes it ambiguous?
Chen Zemian shot him a look. “What are you laughing at?”
Lu Zhuonian, still hoarse, said, “I’m curious—what’s your definition of ambiguity?”
Chen Zemian’s throat was dry, his voice tense. “If you hug too long, I’ll react.”
Lu Zhuonian’s heart skipped a beat—then pounded.
He asked, “Why?”
Chen Zemian looked at him, hesitant to answer.
He used to be relaxed and open, never having wild thoughts just because of physical closeness.
Now, things were different.
Once you’ve tasted pleasure, the body remembers. The scent of Lu Zhuonian alone triggered memories—sensations.
Not only what Lu Zhuonian gave him, but what he gave Lu Zhuonian.
If previous encounters skirted the red line, this one had crossed it.
And it had been… amazing.
Truly intoxicating.
Chen Zemian had never felt this way about a man before. Then again, no man had ever made him feel this good.
So now, he didn’t know if his response was specifically because of Lu Zhuonian—or just the brain’s greed for dopamine.
Either way, it felt really good.
So good it made him dizzy and breathless. Just being close sparked desire.
Maybe Lu Zhuonian was right. Maybe he needed to wait for the hormone levels to drop before he could return to normal.
But the source of this happiness had too much meaning.
Lu Zhuonian was cold, abstinent, proud, and clean to an extreme—someone who had to disinfect his hands before shaking someone else’s.
And now, only Chen Zemian had seen this other side of him.
That kind of psychological satisfaction far surpassed any physical pleasure.
Chen Zemian even had a ridiculous thought—In this exchange, no matter how you calculate it, he came out ahead.
But this was Lu Zhuonian.
The Lu Zhuonian. Super rare, super precious, with severe mysophobia.
Chen Zemian’s imagination ran wild.
Seeing him dazed, Lu Zhuonian tapped the back of his hand. “Chen Zemian, answer.”
Chen Zemian blinked. “About what?”
Lu Zhuonian repeated patiently, “Why do you react when we get close? Aren’t you straight?”
“I used to be,” Chen Zemian scratched his nose. “Not so sure anymore.”
*****
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