PTBC chapter 57

Xia Yan was completely right.

Xu Cong was relentless.

Xia Yan hid under the half-open window in his bedroom, curtains drawn, already having downed three bottles of Yakult in frustration—plus half a cigarette.

There was no other way.

After his second hand surgery, he had been discharged with a long list of dietary restrictions and precautions—basically, he wasn’t supposed to eat anything good.

Might as well let him starve.

Alcohol and nicotine were strictly off-limits too. So the moment he got out of the hospital, Bai Yu and Xu Cong had teamed up to confiscate all his secret stashes.

The only cigarette he had left was one he had secretly gotten from Ye Zhaoyang.

So Xia Yan smoked the cigarette with extra care.

But there was barely any flavor.

He rolled his eyes in frustration—he knew Ye Zhaoyang wouldn’t give him anything good. If he was willing to hand it over so easily, it definitely wasn’t decent stuff.

This taste.

This feeling.

Might as well be sucking on a lollipop—he should report this to the tobacco bureau.

Xia Yan exhaled a smoke ring, clearly displeased.

It had already been over a month since their nerve-wracking accident. The aftermath was being handled by Bai Yu and the company, so he hadn’t really bothered with it.

A few days ago, he had undergone a second surgery, performed by a doctor Xu Cong had specifically invited—some distant relative of his, apparently.

After the operation, the doctor’s prognosis was relatively optimistic. There would be scarring, and his hand wouldn’t be very flexible for at least half a year, but as long as he diligently did rehabilitation training, took care of himself, and went for regular check-ups, there wouldn’t be any severe long-term consequences.

But the scar was inevitable. With a wound this big, if he wanted it gone, he’d have to undergo professional cosmetic surgery later on.

Bai Yu had nearly burst into tears, heartbroken.

Xu Cong had remained silent, God knows what kind of tragic drama he was playing in his head.

The rest of their team had the same heavy expressions on their faces.

Xia Yan was the only one who didn’t seem to care much.

He was a man. A proud omega, too. So what if he got a little hurt?

He knew his injury wasn’t minor, but he had made peace with it. Even if he hadn’t gotten hurt this time, who’s to say he wouldn’t have suffered injuries on set in the future?

As long as his career wasn’t completely ruined, a few problems weren’t anything he couldn’t handle.

All things considered, his injured hand wasn’t even the biggest headache right now.

Xu Cong was.

Thinking about it, Xia Yan nearly bit his cigarette in half, his handsome face twisting in frustration.

He had been in a great mood when he got discharged. After all, being stuck in a hospital like a prisoner for so long, treated like a fragile chick, had been frustrating.

But after just two days, he was already regretting it.

Ever since he left the hospital—

Ever since he had foolishly agreed to Xu Cong’s unreasonable demand—

Xu Cong had taken every possible opportunity to act on it.

It was truly unspeakable.

In the bedroom. On the balcony. Behind the curtains. In the kitchen… The dressing room backstage, the changing room, even in the trees behind the company building.

Xia Yan was running out of places they hadn’t unlocked yet.

Every time, Xu Cong kissed him with an absurd amount of intensity, teasing him with the tip of his tongue, completely shameless.

God knows where he had learned such indecent kissing techniques.

And whenever Xia Yan protested, Xu Cong would just look at him coldly and say, “Fine, then forget it,” before pulling out his phone to book a flight abroad.

The mere thought of it made Xia Yan’s head throb. He wanted to refuse outright, tell Xu Cong to fly wherever the hell he wanted, preferably straight out of the solar system.

…

But he didn’t dare.

He was terrified that if he said it, Xu Cong would actually leave the very next second.

The cigarette Xia Yan had so preciously guarded—one that barely had any nicotine in it—burned out slowly in the air.

He looked around his bedroom, feeling even more hopeless at the realization that Xu Cong now treated this place like his own territory.

Who would believe this?

How had his life ended up like this?

Thankfully, Xu Cong had to leave on a three-day business trip, giving Xia Yan a much-needed break. Otherwise, he would have lost his mind completely.

“This bastard… How long does he plan to keep kissing me…” Xia Yan muttered.

He flicked the cigarette butt into the trash and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

In the mirror, his loose sweater collar hung low, revealing a faint red mark just below his collarbone.

His toothbrush froze mid-motion.

He had almost forgotten—before leaving for his trip, Xu Cong had actually bitten him, like a dog, leaving that damn mark.

It had already been two days, and it had only just started to fade.

In an instant, both old grudges and new ones surged in his chest.

Xia Yan’s face cycled through an entire spectrum of emotions—red, green, blue, and purple—until his reflection in the mirror was one of pure, simmering rage.

He rinsed his mouth, wiped his face, and debated his next move.

Option A: Catch the next flight and beat the crap out of Xu Cong.

Option B: Say to hell with it and ask Bai Yu to do something about his artists, preferably by exiling Xu Cong to some deserted island.

But out of sheer pride, option A was far more appealing.

Just as he was torn between the two, his phone buzzed, vibrating loudly. His ringtone was the title track of their latest album.

He looked down at the screen and saw two glowing characters: Zong Yi.

Xia Yan hesitated for a second, then answered.

…

Half an hour later, Xia Yan was sitting in a private booth at a restaurant owned by one of Zong Yi’s teammate’s family.

Wearing a large mask, a scarf, a black coat, and a knitted hat, he looked like someone about to commit a crime.

The moment he stepped inside, he yanked off his hat and coat and started flipping through the menu.

“This, this, this… and this too. One of each. Thanks.” He was completely shameless.

From burgers and fries to fried chicken and cocktails—he ordered without a single ounce of concern for his public image.

He was in a terrible mood and just wanted junk food.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Zong Yi nearly jumped out of his seat. “And you can’t drink! You just had surgery—cocktails are off-limits. Especially not with me! We’re supposed to be rivals. If you end up in the hospital because of me, your company and your fans will tear me apart.”

Zong Yi hurriedly snatched the ordering tablet from Xia Yan like an eagle protecting its chick.

Xia Yan scoffed.

He knew full well that his current level of personal freedom was practically zero. If he insisted on drinking, Zong Yi—spineless as he was—would definitely rat him out to Bai Yu in a heartbeat.

So he just crossed his arms and watched coldly as Zong Yi immediately edited his order.

However, Zong Yi was still somewhat considerate and left him a burger and iced cola.

Within ten minutes, the two people, who usually had image management ingrained in their bones, were huddled together without any concern for appearances, munching on their burgers.

Zong Yi nagged at Xia Yan, “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for ages, but you were either hospitalized or undergoing surgery, and your manager guarded you like a baby chick. I couldn’t find a chance at all—could only call or video chat with you. I had no idea how you were actually doing. That news scared me to death. I was worried our group might have some crazy sasaengs like that too.”

Xia Yan had become numb to it. “What’s there to be scared of? I didn’t lose an arm or a leg. It’s just that eating a burger with one hand is a bit difficult now.”

He ended up with sauce all over his mouth.

He was about to put down the burger to grab a napkin, but before he could reach for it, Zong Yi had already pulled one out and wiped his mouth for him.

The action wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

They had always been close, and back when they were both alphas, they’d casually help each other wipe off sweat or hand each other things. There was nothing to be overly concerned about.

But lately, thanks to Xu Cong messing with his nerves, Xia Yan had developed a reflexive hypersensitivity and instinctively leaned back.

Zong Yi’s hand nearly hit empty air. He looked at him in confusion.

Xia Yan hesitated for a moment before silently sitting back. He took the napkin from Zong Yi’s hand. “I’ll do it myself.”

Zong Yi didn’t insist, but he still looked at Xia Yan oddly. “What’s up with you? You’ve been looking like you’re in a bad mood since you walked in.”

His worry kicked in, and he scooted even closer to Xia Yan.

“Is it because of your hand?” he asked, concerned.

Honestly, Zong Yi thought it was a pretty depressing situation. While at least Xia Yan’s face—worth its weight in gold—wasn’t injured, hands were just as important for an idol. If he were the one left with such a big scar, he’d be upset for ages. So, he cautiously tried to comfort him. “Maybe it’ll heal up better later on. And if not, you could always wear black gloves or get a temporary tattoo over it—looks cool and even boosts exposure and trending searches.”

Xia Yan glanced at him, nearly laughing at his dumb logic.

What an idiot. No wonder Zhao Ye got him so easily.

The reason he had so readily agreed to meet Zong Yi today wasn’t just because Xu Cong had driven him up the wall and he needed an outlet.

It was also because, in this entire entertainment industry, the only person who could truly understand his frustrations—someone suffering from the exact same problem—was this very Captain Zong sitting in front of him.

“It’s not because of that,” he said briefly.

“Then what is it?” Zong Yi looked puzzled.

Xia Yan was silent for three seconds, unsure how to explain.

What was he supposed to say? That Zong Yi’s former struggles were now his struggles?

That they were both lost souls drifting in the same storm, and he was about to follow in Zong Yi’s footsteps?

He couldn’t say that.

But Zong Yi just kept blinking at him with a concerned look.

Xia Yan cleared his throat and muttered vaguely, “Nothing much. Just some issues within our team that have been giving me a headache.”

Then he suddenly leaned in closer to Zong Yi, swirling the ice cubes in his glass of cola.

He stared at Zong Yi’s face. “But enough about that. It’s not a big deal anyway. What about you? What have you been up to lately? After the wrap-up party, I ran into some things and never got the chance to interrogate you.”

As he spoke, he reached out and tugged at Zong Yi’s collar.

There, on his neck, was a faint but unmistakable hickey.

Xia Yan’s voice was eerily calm. “I’ve been meaning to ask since earlier—who’s the damn mutt that chewed on you?”

Zong Yi, caught completely off guard while picking at his fries, suddenly choked and coughed violently.

He immediately yanked up his collar, shrinking back like a startled maiden, retreating from Xia Yan’s grasp.

But when he saw Xia Yan’s smirking face, he realized it was pointless and slowly let go of his collar.

Xia Yan asked, “Was it Zhao Ye? Are you two officially together now?”

Zong Yi was silent for three seconds.

“…I guess, yeah.”

He answered hesitantly, avoiding Xia Yan’s sharp gaze and rubbing his nose. “We haven’t really talked about it formally. Just went on a few dates… but it hasn’t been that long. We’re just squeezing in time whenever we can.”

And had sex a few times.

But that, of course, he wasn’t going to tell Xia Yan.

I knew it.

Xia Yan sighed deeply.

Ever since the wrap-up party for ‘The Moon By The Silent River’, when he saw Zhao Ye pinning Zong Yi down in the garden, he knew Zong Yi was done for.

And now, looking at him, it was just as expected.

Back then, Xia Yan had been frustrated but indifferent, merely watching from the sidelines.

But now, he understood the rage firsthand.

He frowned. “I still don’t get it. How did you and Zhao Ye end up together? Weren’t you totally against it at first? You even asked me how to reject him.”

He pressed further, “Did you ever actually tell him no properly? Or did you just pretend to refuse, only to fall into his arms the moment he kissed you?”

Zong Yi’s expression twisted.

That, he couldn’t accept. Xia Yan could question his resolve, but he couldn’t doubt that he had genuinely tried to resist at first.

His face reddened slightly as he emphasized, “Who said I didn’t refuse? I did! I turned him down so many times!”

He stressed to Xia Yan, “Really, a lot of times! I even avoided him for a while!”

“And then?” Xia Yan looked at him pitifully. “Did it work?”

“…No.”

Xia Yan rolled his eyes.

Zong Yi slumped against the couch, sulking. “I had no choice. I must have told him a hundred times that we couldn’t date. We’re in the same group, both alphas—this is practically the ultimate forbidden romance. But Zhao Ye didn’t give a damn. Every chance he got, he ambushed me. You have no idea how miserable I was back then.”

Zong Yi also suffered from having no one to vent to.

Even though he and Zhao Ye were now tangled up together, and he had ultimately just given in, no one knew how much he had struggled back then.

Feeling aggrieved, he told Xia Yan, “I was practically living in fear at the time. It was bad enough that I had to be on guard against that little bastard Zhao Ye every moment of the day, but I also had to cover for him, afraid our manager or teammates would find out. And he didn’t appreciate it at all! He even snuck into my bed in the middle of the night. You have no idea what I felt when I lifted the blanket and saw him…”

Even now, Zong Yi still felt a lingering fear. He clutched his chest, thinking that he was getting too old to handle such shocks.

Finally, he sighed and concluded, “At least now I’ve given up resisting. What’s the worst that can happen? We’re dating, and our manager hasn’t torn us apart, after all.”

After saying that, he took a sip of soda, waiting for some kind of response or comfort. But when he turned to look beside him, he found Xia Yan biting his straw, looking utterly exhausted.

“I understand you,” Xia Yan said in a heavy tone.

Zong Yi shook his head. “You don’t. People who haven’t truly experienced it can’t understand what it’s like to sleep with one eye open, always on guard…”

Not to mention the shock of suddenly finding someone in your bed in the middle of the night.

But before he could finish, he saw Xia Yan nodding emphatically, repeating, “I really do understand.”

Zong Yi’s eyes widened.