TL Note: (6/6) DONE!! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆
Xiao Kesong held his breath unconsciously. “But—but your illness is so serious, and Chen Zemian isn’t in good health either. You’ll kill him!”
Lu Zhuonian was silent for a few seconds. “No.”
Xiao Kesong was so anxious that he spun around. “You can’t recover for three or five days after getting sick. Who can bear that?”
Lu Zhuonian didn’t want to discuss this kind of problem with Xiao Kesong at all. He glanced at Ye Chen and signaled him to take him away quickly.
Ye Chen stood up. “Let’s go. Go home.”
“I don’t agree, Lu Zhuonian,” Xiao Kesong clung to the doorframe and refused to let go. “If you insist on doing things this way, Chen Zemian will die by your hands sooner or later.”
Lu Zhuonian repeated, “No.”
Xiao Kesong grew more anxious. “How do you know that? You haven’t even tried it!”
Ye Chen pulled Xiao Kesong’s hand away and whispered three words in his ear—
“He tried it.”
Xiao Kesong froze, as if struck by lightning.
Lu Zhuonian closed the door coldly and cruelly, locking his two old friends outside.
Although he didn’t explain much to Xiao Kesong, it had wasted a lot of time. By the time Lu Zhuonian returned upstairs, Chen Zemian had finished showering and was sitting on the bed drying his hair.
Chen Zemian was very beautiful, but his overall temperament was sharp, pointed, and unrestrained—never soft.
Except for certain moments.
Like now, with wet hair and warm mist clinging to his skin, he sat sideways on the bed, casually wearing a loose short-sleeved T-shirt. The collar was crooked, revealing a slender, pale neck and a slightly protruding cervical spine—
It looked very good to touch.
Lu Zhuonian’s Adam’s apple slid slightly as he slowly walked toward Chen Zemian and placed his hand on him.
Chen Zemian looked up at Lu Zhuonian behind him. His body relaxed unconsciously, leaning back on Lu Zhuonian. “Kesong and the others left?”
Lu Zhuonian lightly pinched the back of Chen Zemian’s neck. “Gone.”
“You’re still good at handling things,” Chen Zemian murmured, enjoying the gesture. He yawned, eyes half-closed. “Did he accept it? He won’t cause more trouble, right?”
Lu Zhuonian, distracted, answered his questions one by one. “No, he didn’t accept it. Yes, he’ll cause more trouble.”
Chen Zemian sighed, feeling a headache coming on. “Why did Kesong react so strongly? His uncle said he didn’t even collapse like this when he fell in love with me.”
“He knows I’m seriously ill,” Lu Zhuonian said casually, his palm still resting around Chen Zemian’s neck. “He’s afraid I’ll kill you.”
Chen Zemian: “…”
Lu Zhuonian was cold and elegant. His first impression was always one of seriousness and aloofness—never smiling. Only those close to him knew he had a strong personality and acted his own way, often saying shocking things with a straight face.
Chen Zemian didn’t dare ask how Lu Zhuonian had answered Xiao Kesong.
Unfortunately, Lu Zhuonian said it anyway.
“I told him no.”
Chen Zemian felt dizzy, already imagining how gloomy the next meeting with Xiao Kesong would be.
He took out his phone and saw dozens of messages from Xiao Kesong—every one an interrogative, gradually escalating in complexity.
The first one: Chen Zemian, is what he said true?!
The last one: Is it that snake?
It took Chen Zemian a long time to react. Only when Xiao Kesong sent a promotional image for family planning products did he realize what “that snake” meant.
What the hell does that have to do with anything?!
“Why did you tell him that?” Chen Zemian flushed instantly and turned to glare at Lu Zhuonian. “Why not just say we’re platonic?”
Lu Zhuonian lowered his gaze. “Xiao Kesong isn’t stupid. I have such a serious sex addiction—would he believe I’m platonic with you?”
Chen Zemian protested desperately, “He would if I told him a few more times!”
“Who wants to be platonic with you?” Lu Zhuonian gently stroked Chen Zemian’s cheek with his thumb, leaned in, and whispered into his ear. “Xiao Kesong is right to worry. I just want to…”
Those three unbearable words were poured into Chen Zemian’s ear along with Lu Zhuonian’s heated breath.
Chen Zemian’s breathing quickened. A numbness spread from the roots of his ears to the base of his spine. He tilted his head back defiantly, looking into Lu Zhuonian’s eyes, full of unrestrained arrogance. “Then come on.”
Lu Zhuonian gripped Chen Zemian’s collar and kissed him.
Chen Zemian didn’t back away. His slim chest rose and fell rapidly, eyelashes trembling, looking particularly fragile.
Lu Zhuonian lifted his shirt and saw the bruises on his chest—then let the fabric fall again.
They had just been in a car accident. While there were no internal injuries or fractures, the force of the impact had left deep bruises.
During the emergency, adrenaline masked the pain. But now, in the safety of home, the soreness slowly seeped out.
Both had bruises, but Chen Zemian’s were especially conspicuous.
Lu Zhuonian’s desire quickly faded. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
Chen Zemian drew a shallow breath. “It hurts. That’s why we need to stimulate endorphin secretion—to block the pain.”
Lu Zhuonian’s fingers tightened slightly. “You really don’t know what’s good for you.”
Chen Zemian’s breath hitched—subtle, not unbearable. But the feeling of being controlled sparked a fire within him.
“Would you really let me die?”
He knelt on the bed, stood, and wrapped his arms around Lu Zhuonian’s neck. “If you were willing, then why did you turn right when you saw the rockfall on the track?”
The boulder had landed in front of the car. Turning left would’ve placed the co-pilot in front; turning right put the driver closer to the danger.
In a crisis, humans act on instinct. Most drivers would turn left to protect themselves.
But Lu Zhuonian had gone against instinct—without hesitation, he’d turned right, giving Chen Zemian the better chance of survival.
He didn’t know he was the protagonist. He didn’t know he couldn’t die. At that moment, he’d even considered what his final words might be.
Chen Zemian hadn’t noticed this detail until reviewing the scene alone—only then did he realize that Lu Zhuonian’s door had been nearer the falling rocks.
In that critical second, Lu Zhuonian hadn’t chosen himself.
He’d chosen Chen Zemian.
It was a choice against logic, instinct, and self-preservation.
Chen Zemian looked into Lu Zhuonian’s cold, indifferent eyes. “If I hadn’t figured it out myself, when would you have told me?”
Lu Zhuonian: “Told you what?”
Chen Zemian leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “That you like me so much you’d give up your life. You’re crazy, Lu Zhuonian.”
“I’ve been crazy for a long time,” Lu Zhuonian said, arms wrapping around his waist. “Chen Zemian, didn’t you already know that on the first day?”
Chen Zemian hooked a finger into his shirt button and kissed him on the side of the mouth. “Then I’ll go crazy with you.”
Their tongues brushed. But instead of giving in, Lu Zhuonian pulled back slightly. “Did you put medicine on the bite on your tongue?”
Chen Zemian panted, chasing after him for another kiss. “Why don’t you check yourself?”
“I tasted it. No medicine,” Lu Zhuonian said, pushing him back. He opened the bedside drawer and took out a mucosal repair spray. “Open your mouth.”
Chen Zemian wiped the corner of his lips. “You’re so disappointing.”
“Would it be less disappointing if the wound turned into an ulcer?” Lu Zhuonian pinched his jaw. “Tongue out.”
Chen Zemian raised an eyebrow provocatively and refused to cooperate.
Lu Zhuonian stared at him for two seconds, set the spray aside, and went into the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of running water could be heard.
He returned with steam clinging to his body and a pair of medical gloves in hand.
“Come here.”
Chen Zemian turned over lazily, resting his head on Lu Zhuonian’s lap.
Lu Zhuonian put on the gloves, pinched his chin, and slipped his fingers into his mouth. Unable to find the wound, he pinched his tongue with two fingers.
“It’s at the root,” Chen Zemian mumbled, drooling. “My tongue’s not that long. Don’t pull.”
“Then open your mouth wider,” Lu Zhuonian said, lifting the bottle.
Chen Zemian complied, letting him spray the root of his tongue.
Still unsure whether he hit the right spot, Lu Zhuonian asked, “Did it work?”
Chen Zemian moved his tongue. “Yeah.”
Lu Zhuonian removed the gloves. “You were just waiting for me to torture you?”
“At moments like this,” Chen Zemian said truthfully, “it feels pretty good being tortured by you.”
Lu Zhuonian paused and called his name. “Chen Zemian.”
Chen Zemian, who had been tugging at his waistband, froze. “Ah?”
Lu Zhuonian hesitated.
Curious, Chen Zemian leaned closer. “Say it. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”
Still silent, Lu Zhuonian merely looked at him.
Chen Zemian scratched his chin as if realizing something. “Wait—is it another one of those dirty lines?”
“Not as dirty as last time.”
Chen Zemian didn’t even find that line dirty anymore—he kind of liked it now. Curious, he urged, “Tell me, tell me!”
Instead, Lu Zhuonian turned off the light and lay down. “Go to sleep.”
Chen Zemian’s curiosity was burning. How could he sleep now?
He tried guessing several things, comparing each to Lu Zhuonian’s reactions. But none of them were right.
Eventually, his own imagination worked him up so much he was flushed with heat, unable to calm down.
“So greedy?” Lu Zhuonian held him down. His voice was calm, emotionless—his cold tone contrasting starkly with the heat of his palm. “Looks like these are the kinds of games you enjoy.”
Chen Zemian: “…”
Damn it! Not only did he fail to get an answer, but he exposed himself instead.
Lu Zhuonian hugged him, coaxing like one would a restless kitten. “Stop it. You’re covered in bruises. You can’t handle any rough play.”
“I can handle it!”
Unbothered, Lu Zhuonian replied, “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”
Chen Zemian didn’t believe he wasn’t tempted, so he laid his head on Lu Zhuonian’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Boom, boom, boom. Steady, calm. Not even a little quick.
“…Is he really that abstinent? Still a man? Who’s the one addicted to sex again? Did it transfer to me?”
Then Chen Zemian asked, “You really have dirty things you can’t say?”
Lu Zhuonian closed his eyes. “You sure you want to hear?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Can I humiliate you?”
Chen Zemian swallowed. “How?”
“I want to call you puppy.”
Chen Zemian had mentally prepared for ten thousand shameful scenarios—he didn’t expect this.
Not only was it underwhelming, it made him look dirty.
As expected, someone as noble and restrained as Lu Zhuonian couldn’t think of anything truly filthy.
Fine. He’d show him what real obscenity looked like.
Chen Zemian straddled him, leaned down, and asked in his ear:
“Do you want to call me puppy… or do you want me to be your puppy?”
*****
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Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal wondering in the void and falling into the translation abyss.
