TL: Hua
Chapter 13: Does it hurt?
“The chapter name is—’Coercion After Drinking.”
Xie Yu: “…”
He had skimmed the novel before, but due to too many “blurry” parts, it was hard on his eyes, so he hadn’t read all the chapters carefully. Now, with the system’s cold electronic voice reading out the chapter name, his worldview wavered, leaving him a bit speechless.
The system looked at him with pity: “Host, we’re a ‘po’ novel[mfn]po文 A genre often implying explicit content.[/mfn]. These kinds of words will appear from time to time; you should get used to them.”
Xie Yu: “…”
He pressed his forehead: “Bring up the chapter.”
Large patches of light points appeared on the glowing blue screen, forming long passages of text.
Xie Yu skimmed through, roughly grasping the plot.
The plot of po novels is always simple and crude. This particular night, Young Master Xie, for some unknown reason, went a little crazy and drank himself into a stupor alone. When he returned to the hotel, he found the room cold and felt incredibly empty and lonely. He also remembered having a “contract beauty,” so he simply called Shen Ci to come over.
The system commented: “That’s strange. Would the original owner drink alone?”
Young Master Xie was the type who couldn’t stand loneliness and always called friends over.
Xie Yu raised an eyebrow in thought, but didn’t respond, only saying: “Let’s keep reading first.”
The current Shen Ci was fine, but the Shen Ci in the novel did not fare well. His health was already poor, and he hadn’t taken good care of himself, leading to a host of issues like low blood sugar and dizziness. After being “played with” by the original owner for several days, he developed a high fever and was admitted to the hospital.
But Young Master Xie wouldn’t care if someone was sick or in the hospital. He even thought playing with someone who had a high fever would be uniquely interesting, so he directly sent people to the hospital to pick up Shen Ci.
“System.” Xie Yu pointed at the plot. “We’re stuck at the first step.”
The novel’s protagonist was hospitalized with a high fever, but Shen Ci wasn’t in the hospital. Which hospital should he go to pick him up from?
The system was used to such minor plot deviations; it said weakly, “As long as you get sixty points, it’s fine. Just go pick him up from school.”
So Xie Yu made a call, using a drunken tone, his voice as vile as ever: “Assistant Shen, where are you?”
It was late at night, so he should be at school, right?
Unexpectedly, Shen Ci lowered his voice: “At the hospital.”
The background was noisy and chaotic, with the sound of instruments turning on. Xie Yu paused, his drunken voice unable to hold: “What’s wrong with you?”
He hadn’t done anything to the protagonist.
Shen Ci kept his voice very soft: “I’m here to see Grandma.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “Not me; I’m fine.”
As he said this, Shen Ci himself felt awkward, as if Xie Yu would care if something was wrong with him.
On the other end of the phone, Xie Yu made a sound of understanding, leaned back on the sofa, and adjusted his voice back to a drunken state: “Come to the hotel tonight. I’ll send someone to pick you up from the hospital.”
Shen Ci covered the receiver with one hand, his voice blending into the complex background noise, indistinct: “Okay.”
He hung up the phone and looked at the old woman on the hospital bed, leaning down: “Grandma, I have something at the lab; I have to go.”
The old woman had graying temples, and her skin was covered in age spots from pigment deposition. But her brow bone and nasal bridge were elegantly shaped, suggesting she must have been a beautiful woman when she was young.
The old woman looked at Shen Ci when she heard him, and patted his hand with her hand that had an IV needle, her voice hoarse: “Something happened at the lab this late?”
Shen Ci: “Yes, it’s the project cycle now; the lab is very busy.”
The old woman watched him quietly. At her age, most people’s eyes were cloudy, but hers were very clear. The old woman asked calmly, “Who called you just now?”
Shen Ci’s fingers twitched.
He withdrew his hand, picked up an apple from the fruit basket, and peeled it, looking down: “A friend.”
“Just a friend?”
The old woman’s hand was pressed on Shen Ci’s hand. She knew her grandson’s actions very well but didn’t expose him, and continued: “Recently, since I’ve been hospitalized, the service seems to have improved a lot. The medicines in the bottles are all unfamiliar names, and I heard the nurses chatting, saying they’re all imported and very expensive, sometimes even hard to buy… Xiao Ci, tell Grandma, where did you get the money? What connections do you have?”
Shen Ci sighed: “It’s that friend I just mentioned; he lent it to me.”
The old woman scrutinized him from head to toe. Shen Ci bore some resemblance to her when she was young, both having a quiet and dignified appearance. In comparison, Shen Ci rarely smiled, and his features were more serious, which could also ignite certain desires.
She slowly closed her eyes: “If he’s really a friend, bring him to see me one day.”
Shen Ci was startled and said curtly: “He—”
He subtly slowed his tone: “Grandma, he’s very busy with work, his career is intense, and his time is tight; he might not be available.”
Young Master Xie was whimsical, and Shen Ci didn’t think he held any significant weight in Xie Yu’s mind that would make him bother to come to the hospital.
The old woman, despite her failing eyesight, was quite clear-headed. Young Master Xie’s pampered demeanor, with his luxury cars and expensive watches, was something ordinary people couldn’t imitate. Shen Ci couldn’t find someone to impersonate him.
The old woman didn’t speak, just looked at him, her dark eyes holding an indescribable sadness. After a long time, she closed her eyes and said, “If he’s truly a friend and helped so much, it’s only right for Grandma to thank him in person, isn’t it?”
Shen Ci could only say, “I’ll ask if he’s available.”
He stood up and left the ward. He glanced at the full-length mirror outside and subtly exhaled in relief.
The person in the mirror looked good. In fact, because the hotel bed was soft and the air conditioning was at a comfortable temperature, he had slept well these past two days, and his complexion was even better than before.
He thought to himself, “Nothing should be noticeable.”
What Shen Ci didn’t know was that this scene also appeared in the novel, but at that time, his complexion was much worse than it is now, pale, and his lips were bloodless. Every time he visited his grandmother, he had to adjust his makeup to hide it.
—
In the hotel, Xie Yu was busy setting up the scene.
The original owner was blackout drunk and incoherent, and the suite reeked of alcohol. Xie Yu, however, had no interest in that; it was bad for his liver and kidneys, and being truly drunk would affect his performance. So he just opened two bottles of rum and brandy, getting himself about a third tipsy. Once his face was flushed, he splashed a little on his shirt and around the room.
The indoor temperature was high, and alcohol evaporated easily. Before long, the room was filled with the rich scent of alcohol, mixed with the sandalwood and oud of the flameless diffuser, truly creating an atmosphere of debauchery.
Xie Yu took a bath, mussed up his hair, and casually pulled on a bathrobe, leaving the tie half-undone to expose a large area of his chest, creating a hungover look. Then, timing Shen Ci’s arrival, he lay sprawled on the sofa.
When Shen Ci arrived, this was the scene that greeted him.
He first smelled the overwhelming scent of alcohol in the room and frowned slightly. Then he looked at the sofa, where Young Master Xie was sleeping with his hand propping his forehead, his brows tightly furrowed, as if he were sleeping very uneasily.
Shen Ci walked over to him and sat on the edge of the cushion to prevent Xie Yu from rolling off. He then pulled Xie Yu’s bathrobe tie to cover his exposed chest before gently touching his face: “Xie Yu?”
Xie Yu remained with his eyes closed.
Shen Ci sighed, “You asked me to come and keep you company, and now that I’m here, you’re asleep?”
He went to the bathroom, retrieved a towel, wet it, and wiped the sweat from Xie Yu’s forehead. Then, his hand slipped under Xie Yu’s shoulder blade, intending to help him to the bed.
Curling up on the sofa all night would likely lead to a cold.
Xie Yu: “…”
He was feigning sleep, not actually asleep.
According to the script, after Shen Ci entered, he would find Xie Yu dead drunk, then silently wash up, and then sit by the side table reading until Xie Yu, half-asleep, rolled over and fell off the sofa, hurting his tailbone. Only then would Xie Yu furiously get up, grab Shen Ci, drag him to the bed, and then pin him down.
At this point, most of the plot would be complete. As for the subsequent blurred scenes and dialogue, Xie Yu decided to improvise, performing as appropriate, which was why he was sleeping on the sofa in disheveled clothes.
But Shen Ci didn’t go to read; he tried to help Xie Yu to bed.
Xie Yu had no choice but to skip the previous steps. He stood up, grabbed Shen Ci’s hand, threw him onto the bed, and then pinned him down.
The hotel mattress was soft, so there was no worry about getting hurt from the fall.
Shen Ci was startled and raised his hand to push him away: “Xie…!”
Xie Yu inwardly muttered “my apologies” before firmly grasping both of Shen Ci’s wrists in his hands. With a slight pull, Shen Ci was forced into a position with his hands above his head, all his vulnerable spots exposed.
Due to their intense movements, Shen Ci’s shirt was pulled up, revealing a flat, firm abdomen and a section of his waistline that was smooth and beautiful.
Xie Yu lowered his gaze, then looked away, frowning in displeasure: “You’re so slow.”
At the same time, he tensed his abdomen.
Next, Shen Ci was supposed to kick him in the abdomen. According to Xie Yu’s plan, he would wince and let go, then feign great anger, playfully tease him a bit, say some suggestive things, and then lie down and pretend to be asleep.
But Shen Ci didn’t kick. Xie Yu’s face was very close, his body casting a heavy shadow over Shen Ci. Shen Ci’s face was also hidden in the shadow, making his expression unreadable.
Shen Ci’s pupils contracted slightly, and he belatedly realized something.
Xie Yu was drunk.
Some people’s temperaments change drastically after drinking; they become more gloomy, more violent, and prone to physical aggression. Shen Ci didn’t know what Xie Yu was like when drunk, but he knew Xie Yu had bipolar disorder.
People with bipolar disorder, when drunk, would probably be even more irritable than usual.
This posture was very awkward, and the exposed abdomen made him feel extremely unsafe. Shen Ci frowned and endured it, but his body couldn’t help but tremble. He subtly observed Xie Yu, wanting to say something to appease him, but when he struggled with his wrists just now, they were held even tighter.
“Hiss—”
His wrist was twisted upwards, and it hurt a little.
Only a bedside lamp was on in the bedroom. In the darkness, the sense of touch was more acute. Xie Yu’s breath was close, and an immense sense of oppression emanated from him. Shen Ci felt like a fish on a cutting board, warm breath hitting the back of his ear, and scorching heat radiating from where their bodies touched, with only a thin layer of clothing offering no barrier.
Shen Ci in the novel never cried out in pain; no matter how violent the original owner’s methods were, he would never utter a single plea for mercy. But on this soft, large bed, tightly enveloped by the duvet, feeling a completely different Xie Yu from during the day, Shen Ci suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.
During the day, Xie Yu was lazy and at ease, like a carefree nobleman. Now, Xie Yu was incredibly oppressive, like a predatory beast.
What would Xie Yu do? Would he use those tools from the box? Would he… hit him?
Shen Ci pursed his lips, tasting a hint of bitter hardship. A sour feeling rose in his chest that he couldn’t suppress. He turned his head and buried his face in the duvet, hiding his overly complex emotions, but he let his wrists be held obediently, without even a hint of struggle.
He softly said, “Xie Yu, it hurts.”
He lowered his eyes, his eyelashes drooping like fans, his whole person looking like a lost soul: “It really hurts.”
Xie Yu released his hands as if he’d received an electric shock.
He was only a third drunk, his mind still clear. Hearing Shen Ci cry out in pain, he instinctively thought he had been too rough.
Shen Ci was stunned, silently curling his fingers.
He hadn’t expected Xie Yu to hear him, much less to let go. It was just his wrists being held; how much could it really hurt? It wasn’t even as painful as frostbite from washing clothes in winter. He was just putting on an act, as if he’d never known hardship or couldn’t bear it, counting on Xie Yu being drunk and not hearing him.
It was truly pretentious.
But Xie Yu had heard him.
Shen Ci broke free from Xie Yu and turned his face away, saying nothing more.
Then, a rich scent of alcohol enveloped him. The rum had a clear, sweet aroma. Xie Yu leaned closer. Shen Ci couldn’t quite guess what he was going to do, only tensing his nerves and waiting, but he wasn’t as nervous as before.
How far could someone who stopped just because he cried out in pain go?
The next second, Xie Yu pulled the duvet over them, completely enveloping him. His fingertips brushed the skin on Shen Ci’s wrist, pinching and examining it. He was half-drunk, his voice a little hesitant: “Does it really hurt?”
Shen Ci was completely buried in the duvet, only his hands, held above his head, were exposed. Xie Yu held his wrist under the lamp, and Shen Ci watched as his long fingers uneasily recoiled and curled up.
This position was extremely strange.
At this point, most of the plot was complete, with the rest being blurred scenes. Xie Yu wasn’t going to continue. He asked, “System, what’s the score?”
The system silently appeared, listlessly saying, “Around 50. If you stay close for a bit longer, you can reach 55.”
It no longer hoped for a high score from the host. 60 was enough; long live 60.
Xie Yu then lay flat, pulled Shen Ci into his arms, and rested his head on Shen Ci’s shoulder blade, saying softly, “I’m drunk. I won’t bother you anymore. Go to sleep.”
He wasn’t much of a drinker, and after all that commotion, he was genuinely tired.
Shen Ci paused. He was enveloped in the scent of rum and brandy, feeling lazy and soft all over. He wanted to speak, but Xie Yu covered his eyes.
His eyelashes brushed against his palm. Meeting the bewildered inquiry of the person in his arms, Xie Yu firmly said, “It’s late. Go to sleep.”
…Forcing him to sleep counted as forcing him, right?
The two fell silent for a moment. Xie Yu found a comfortable position, closed his eyes, and soon his breathing gradually evened out.
He had fallen asleep.
“…”
In the darkness, Shen Ci hesitantly raised his hand and loosely wrapped it around Xie Yu. His fingertips touched Xie Yu’s back, then recoiled as if burned. He repeated this several times before gently resting his hand.
The next moment, he suddenly frowned.
—Where his fingertips touched, there was clearly the mark of a scar.
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Hmm, will he found out then or later?