What else could he do?
Chen Zemian didn’t have any good ideas.
But he had a plan.
He grabbed the “Treatment Plan” lying beside the pillow and saw that the next item after the tie was a pair of cat ears and a small bell.
However, the props he had ordered online hadn’t arrived yet.
Lu Zhuonian glanced at the long list of items and couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve listed everything you can find in an adult toy store.”
Chen Zemian’s fingers slid weakly over the plan. “The express delivery hasn’t come yet. There’s nothing to play with today. Let me help you with my hands.”
He let Lu Zhuonian lie on his side, rubbed himself down, and used his hands to help Lu Zhuonian find the sensation he needed.
Lu Zhuonian acknowledged Chen Zemian’s effort. “You really try hard not to go all the way.”
Chen Zemian was always sincere in bed. “I’m a little scared.”
Lu Zhuonian closed his eyes. “Are you afraid of me?”
Chen Zemian shook his head. “I’m afraid that there won’t be any other way to satisfy you in the future, and you’ll find me boring.”
You think this is boring, and you think I’m boring.
To meet Lu Zhuonian’s escalating desires, Chen Zemian searched for all kinds of methods online. That was how he discovered the interesting use of the tie.
It did give Lu Zhuonian some stimulation.
But Chen Zemian hadn’t expected that the increasing threshold of a sex addict’s needs wasn’t just a desire for stronger stimulation, but also a rise in the number and frequency of those needs.
Previously, once was enough. But now, once was no longer sufficient.
This was the fourth time this month—
Lu Zhuonian’s fourth time, and Chen Zemian’s Nth time.
Although Lu Zhuonian was the one afflicted with the disorder every time, Chen Zemian derived more pleasure. If Lu Zhuonian hadn’t strictly controlled how often they had sex, Chen Zemian might have collapsed long ago.
His self-control was really poor.
Chen Zemian’s thoughts drifted, and the movements of his hands naturally slowed.
Lu Zhuonian gently poked Chen Zemian’s face. “Not concentrating again.”
Chen Zemian wasn’t not concentrating; he was just a little tired. After two rounds of pleasure, he wanted to sleep very badly.
Every time after helping Lu Zhuonian, he fell into a deep sleep.
Chen Zemian fell asleep easily, but also woke easily. Although he drifted off quickly, most of the time he was in light sleep and would wake at the slightest disturbance.
Perhaps because he was physically and mentally more exhausted after each session, Chen Zemian sometimes slept for as long as twelve hours.
He felt good before going to bed and after waking. The pleasure lasted not just for seconds, but stretched on and on.
He finally understood why so many people were so fond of this kind of thing.
It was truly fascinating.
Chen Zemian half-closed his eyes, feeling sleepy.
Seeing Chen Zemian gradually close his eyes, Lu Zhuonian knew he was drifting off.
The intense, burning desire was like a poisonous flame; the urge to possess and destroy raged relentlessly, pulling and urging him to take more from Chen Zemian. But his emotion was like a silk thread, fragile and swaying, holding onto the last bit of reason.
Chen Zemian was about to fall asleep; his hands moved slower and slower until he held them lightly, motionless.
He was always like this.
When awake during the day, he was resolute and determined, vowing to overcome all difficulties and help Lu Zhuonian completely cure his sex addiction. But when it came to bed, desire quickly captured him, and he begged Lu Zhuonian to let him enjoy himself first.
Then, after having fun, he grew sleepy, became lazy, played tricks, and didn’t put in much effort—promising to perform better next time.
Although Lu Zhuonian had a strong desire for control, he was always soft-hearted toward Chen Zemian and reluctant to use desire to torment him every time. Chen Zemian gave him what he wanted, but in the end was left here—neither rising nor falling.
After Chen Zemian was satisfied, he relaxed and usually fell asleep very quickly. Lu Zhuonian couldn’t bear to wake him.
But if he didn’t wake him, he felt unbearably uncomfortable. Yet seeing Chen Zemian sleep so soundly, he couldn’t help but feel angry.
Lu Zhuonian lowered his eyes and looked at Chen Zemian, as if his soul were split in two.
One half clamored to destroy him; the other half urged him to protect him.
Lu Zhuonian rubbed Chen Zemian’s face, pressed against his overly red lips, and moved suggestively.
Chen Zemian’s mouth opened before he even opened his eyes.
Lu Zhuonian’s dark eyes flickered slightly.
Okay, you’re pretty good.
He forgave Chen Zemian just like that.
Chen Zemian waited for a while, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes dazedly, lifted his head with a little surprise, and glanced at Lu Zhuonian.
Lu Zhuonian gently pressed his palm against the back of Chen Zemian’s head, touching his soft hair, but his heart was softer than the hair, and whispered, “No, go to sleep.”
Chen Zemian was really sleepy. He barely arched his back, resting his forehead against Lu Zhuonian’s stomach, and fell asleep with the duvet rolled up.
Lu Zhuonian lay there for a while, quietly waiting for the burning desire in his body to subside.
Although the impulse brought on by the sexual addiction was not completely relieved, the satisfaction of one release was better than nothing.
Looking at Chen Zemian sleeping in his arms, a strange peace and warmth slowly rose in his heart, giving him the strength to resist his desire.
Forty minutes later, the urge to climax finally faded.
Lu Zhuonian was breathing heavily, his whole body sweating coldly as if he had just been pulled from water.
After barely regaining some strength, he wanted to take a shower. But when he moved slightly—before even getting up—Chen Zemian frowned, feeling something stir and disturb his sleep. He raised his arm to hold Lu Zhuonian down.
Lu Zhuonian whispered, “I’m going to take a shower.”
Chen Zemian didn’t know if he heard it or just felt someone talking to him. He rolled over under the duvet, buried his head in the quilt, and turned to the other side to sleep.
After Lu Zhuonian finished showering, he wet a towel with warm water and wiped Chen Zemian’s face, hands, and legs.
The warm towel was soft and comfortable. Chen Zemian was wiped vigorously; he comfortably spread his legs and let Lu Zhuonian move.
His legs were long and white, and the skin on the inside of his thighs—always hidden from the sun—was as white and translucent as porcelain.
Lu Zhuonian couldn’t resist the temptation. Slowly, he lowered his head and kissed him at the base of his legs.
Chen Zemian had no idea what sweet dream he was having. When Lu Zhuonian approached, he unconsciously straightened his waist.
Lu Zhuonian: “…”
For a moment, he couldn’t tell who was more addicted to sex.
He casually threw the towel into the dirty clothes basket, took out a pair of clean shorts from the closet, and put them on Chen Zemian.
Chen Zemian liked to wear sports shorts as pajamas. They were loose, soft, light, and breathable—feeling like he wasn’t wearing anything.
He had good legs, and wearing these wide-leg shorts made his legs look longer and his waist narrower, revealing thighs with smooth lines and tight muscles. When he sat with his legs apart, one could see deep into the trouser legs.
Fortunately, it wasn’t summer yet, so Chen Zemian didn’t wear these shorts out.
Chen Zemian himself didn’t like wearing shorts in public. Although he didn’t have mysophobia, he disliked his skin coming into direct contact with public seats.
He said it felt sticky and dirty.
There were other little dressing habits Lu Zhuonian knew well—
He usually wore hoodies because the hood could cover his head when needed. In winter, he liked cotton coats for the same reason.
He preferred short tops and disliked long ones because long tops got in the way of his legs. He had to lift his clothes before kicking someone, and the long front flap affected his moves.
On formal occasions and when secretly fighting with Lu Zhuonian, he wore a shirt and suit—but the suit was always open-chested, and the top of the shirt useless.
He seemed to know he had a nice neck and liked to show his collar, so he never wore turtlenecks.
His biggest hobby was using Lu Zhuonian’s cloakroom as a display cabinet—choosing clothes he liked and openly taking them.
Everything else was better. Every time he went to the mall with Lu Zhuonian, he didn’t buy anything, then came back to keep stealing Lu Zhuonian’s clothes.
Just like Ye Chen’s cat that refused to drink from the water bowl.
Lu Zhuonian looked quietly at Chen Zemian for a while.
It turned out that, without realizing it, he already knew him so well.
Lu Zhuonian couldn’t tell whether he knew so many of his weird little habits because he liked him, or whether he liked him more because of these cute little habits.
Chen Zemian was sleeping soundly, clutching the duvet in his arms. Lu Zhuonian didn’t fight him for it. Instead, he took another blanket to cover Chen Zemian’s bare back, turned off the lights, and went back to his own room to sleep.
The next morning, Chen Zemian woke up very late.
He was alone at home—Lu Zhuonian had gone to school.
There was a business meeting to attend that day, but Chen Zemian was too lazy to get moving, so he called Zheng Huaiyu and asked him to go in his place.
Once the call connected, Chen Zemian asked, “Where are you now?”
When Zheng Huaiyu heard Chen Zemian’s voice, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “What did you do last night?”
Chen Zemian choked on his own saliva and coughed. “What?”
“It couldn’t be more obvious,” Zheng Huaiyu said with a smile. “Did you sleep with Lu Zhuonian?”
Chen Zemian hadn’t even caught his breath before Zheng Huaiyu hit him again. He nearly choked and coughed loudly.
“Don’t be nervous,” Zheng Huaiyu said calmly. “I’m your secretary—I’ll keep your secret, Mr. Chen.”
Chen Zemian wondered how Zheng Huaiyu could glean so much information just from his words. Surprised and confused, he asked, “Why do you think it’s Lu Zhuonian?”
Zheng Huaiyu replied, “You live in his house every day. Could it be anyone else?”
Chen Zemian scratched his head. “No, it’s nobody else’s business now. Why do you think I’d sleep with a man? Is heterosexuality such a niche thing?”
Zheng Huaiyu paused, then said, “Still thinking about your heterosexuality… Lu Zhuonian’s progress is too slow. You didn’t sleep, and yet your voice is so hoarse… using your mouth?”
Chen Zemian: “Cough, cough, cough. I’m hanging up.”
After ending the call, Chen Zemian sent Zheng Huaiyu a text message outlining the business details he needed handled and decided not to talk to anyone else that day.
Lu Zhuonian had only one class that morning and came home before eleven.
When he returned, Chen Zemian had just gotten up, the cleaning lady was tidying the bedroom, and he was lying on the living room sofa, eating breakfast.
As soon as Lu Zhuonian entered, Chen Zemian sat up immediately.
“I saw you eating while lying down,” Lu Zhuonian said sternly as he walked over, picked up the plate on the coffee table, and added, “Come sit at the dining table and eat.”
Chen Zemian, stubborn as ever, replied, “I don’t want to eat anymore.”
Lu Zhuonian ignored him.
If you don’t want to eat, then don’t eat. Anyway, lunch was coming soon.
Chen Zemian tried to argue, falling back on the sofa, lying on his side. “My stomach’s healed.”
Lu Zhuonian said, “Sit up.”
Chen Zemian had no choice but to sit up again. “It’s inhumane not to lie down after eating. Some people just feel sleepy when they’re full.”
Lu Zhuonian glanced at him meaningfully. “You really do fall asleep when you’re full.”
Chen Zemian recalled how he’d fallen asleep halfway through helping Lu Zhuonian the day before and felt a bit guilty. He rarely said anything back after that.
When Lu Zhuonian came back, he saw the driver’s car still parked and knew Chen Zemian hadn’t gone out that morning. “Don’t you have a business meeting?”
Chen Zemian propped one leg on the sofa and said casually, “I got up late and was too lazy to move, so I asked Zheng Huaiyu to go. It’s not an important project—just a casual talk.”
Lu Zhuonian pursed his lips and smiled faintly. “Mr. Chen is very popular now. Not everyone can meet him.”
Mentioning Zheng Huaiyu reminded Chen Zemian of the three words “afterwards.” He cleared his throat lightly and asked, “Does my voice sound hoarse?”
Lu Zhuonian shook his head. “What’s wrong? Is your throat bothering you?”
“No,” Chen Zemian replied.
He sat for a while, then began to slide down lazily, half lying on the sofa, only to be pulled upright by Lu Zhuonian.
“Lying down after a full meal causes acid reflux. Sit still.”
Lu Zhuonian pinched Chen Zemian’s shoulder and straightened him. “Don’t be boneless.”
Chen Zemian knew Lu Zhuonian was right, but he lacked self-control. “But I’m really sleepy… Did you put drugs in my breakfast?”
Lu Zhuonian didn’t respond. He glanced at his watch. “Sit for another fifteen minutes.”
Chen Zemian squeezed into the corner formed by the sofa backrest and Lu Zhuonian’s side, barely maintaining his posture, and pulled out his phone to play a game.
Old Master Tang happened to be online, and the two teamed up for a while.
In voice chat, Old Master Tang said, “Xiao Chen, how come the game’s more fun after the server launch?”
Chen Zemian replied, “More players make it more fun than the internal test.”
Old Master Tang asked, “The game’s so successful. You must be busy lately. Why don’t you come out for a walk?”
Chen Zemian said, “I’m not busy. I signed an agency operation agreement before the launch. Nothing special to take care of. I haven’t been out much. I had a stomachache earlier and can’t drink. It’s boring outside. I told the office I wouldn’t go.”
“Oh, stomach problems aren’t easy to treat. You really need to drink less alcohol.” Old Master Tang said, “Feeling better now? Want me to recommend some Chinese medicine?”
Chen Zemian refused repeatedly. “No, no, no. I don’t drink Chinese medicine. I vomit after eating medicine every day, and my urine smells like it.”
Old Master Tang laughed. “It’s soaking, it’ll definitely work.”
Chen Zemian didn’t know if it worked, but his clothes now faintly smelled of medicine.
Time flew by as they played.
Soon it was noon. The Tang family was about to have lunch, waiting for Old Master Tang to join. So, he quit the game.
Before logging off, Old Master Tang invited Chen Zemian to visit his house sometime, promising to have the chef prepare any dishes Chen Zemian wanted if he asked in advance.
Chen Zemian immediately agreed and said he would go the next day.
Now, under Lu Zhuonian’s supervision, Chen Zemian had three medicinal meals a day and hadn’t eaten normal food for a long time.
The dishes he usually liked—spicy chicken, Maoxuewang, sweet and sour spareribs, fermented shrimp—were nowhere to be found.
When Lu Zhuonian wasn’t paying attention, Chen Zemian quietly sent these four dishes to Old Master Tang.
Old Master Tang replied with an OK gesture. “Come tomorrow at noon.”
It would have been fine if someone else hosted, but since Old Master Tang was hosting, Lu Zhuonian couldn’t say no. Knowing Chen Zemian was going for the dishes, he had to agree.
At noon the next day, Xue Zhengwei came to pick Chen Zemian up again.
After eating at Old Master Tang’s house, Chen Zemian admired Old Master Tang’s new calligraphy and painting collection and then played games with Xue Zhengwei.
Xue Zhengwei taught him a few tricks, and Chen Zemian learned a lot.
When leaving Old Master Tang’s house, the Lu family driver was already waiting. It wasn’t Brother Wang, who often accompanied Chen Zemian, but the driver had taken him before several times.
After getting in, Chen Zemian casually asked, “Where’s Brother Wang?”
The driver answered, “Wang Wei has other work. Mr. Lu sent me to pick you up.”
Chen Zemian didn’t care. Halfway through the ride, he noticed they weren’t heading back to Shengfu Huating and asked in surprise, “Where are we going?”
The driver said, “Lu’s house. Mr. Lu is waiting for you there.”
Chen Zemian thought Lu Zhuonian had something to do at home, so he sent the driver to pick him up first, then planned to pick up Lu Zhuonian and return to Shengfu Huating together.
Lu’s house was like a manor. After passing through the gates, it took a long time before they reached the main building.
The car stopped in front of the main building.
The driver used the intercom to notify the housekeeper. “We’re here.”
Two minutes later, the armored door of the main building swung open with a bang, and two rows of servants in uniform appeared.
The housekeeper came down the steps and personally opened the car door for Chen Zemian.
At that moment, Chen Zemian began to sense something was wrong.
Lu Zhuonian was usually ostentatious when he came and went, but he hadn’t been so showy in front of Chen Zemian for a long time.
Just as he was about to call Lu Zhuonian, a tall, handsome middle-aged man walked out of the main building.
Two rows of servants and the housekeeper bowed together. “Mr. Lu.”
When Chen Zemian saw the man’s face clearly, his hand on the phone paused slightly.
Then he realized—the “Mr. Lu” the driver had sent to pick him up was not Lu Zhuonian, but Lu Zhuonian’s father—
Lu Zizhen.
*****
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Author: LazyHermitGal
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