Chapter 89

He Xiaoyun x Xia Chi [Extra]

The next day, when He Xiaoyun woke up, it was already 3:00 PM. He had been roused by thirst. As he opened his eyes, he saw a bedside table illuminated by a warm yellow lamp—with a glass of water resting on it.

Instinctively, he reached out to grab the water, but the moment he lifted his arm, every muscle and nerve in his body screamed in protest. A wave of aching soreness spread through him, and he involuntarily groaned in discomfort; the raised arm then fell back onto the bed with a heavy thud.

That burst of pain finally brought a sliver of clarity to his muddled mind, and his memories slowly began to return. Although his recollection of the peak drug effects was still hazy, he could remember the chain of events—and that afterwards, he had clung to Xia Chi, demanding more.

Weakened by the drug’s effects, he had been entirely dependent on Xia Chi. Xia Chi had held him in his arms, his back pressed against the soft headboard cushion, as heavy breaths pounded against Xia Chi’s neck. Their exhalations mingled until they became indistinguishable. He could no longer even maintain a proper embrace—as if he’d been tossed onto a tiny raft on a stormy sea, carried away by tumultuous waves with no sense of direction, utterly powerless and adrift.

He Xiaoyun attempted to turn over, but found that such a simple movement was now excruciatingly difficult; his waist had no strength at all. That he would one day end up so helpless—it wasn’t exactly a disgrace, but it was the very first time he’d rendered himself completely immobile by his own doing. At twenty, he was as reckless as if he had nothing to lose.

After lying there for a while, he hazily wondered, “Where’s Xia Chi? Has he left already? Is he really that heartless?”

Thirst gnawed at him. After hesitating for a long moment, He Xiaoyun decided to take care of himself first. He crawled over, grabbed the water glass, and downed it in one gulp. The water still retained a bit of warmth—as though it had been sitting out a while. He then lay back down and, after a few more minutes, began to inspect his body. Pulling back the blanket, he saw marks everywhere—especially along his waist, lower abdomen, and down to his thighs, the most sensitive areas bearing the brunt. As expected, Xia Chi really is a dog.

He tried to muster some strength; the very thought of moving made him realize that he had nearly lost all sensation. He even felt that his head now sported three dark lines. Reaching out to feel the marks on his waist, he found there was almost no feeling at all. Moving his hand further back, his fingers were so limp that even now, he sensed virtually nothing.

“Fuck.”

He withdrew his hand and lay sprawled on the bed, staring blankly at the overhead lamp for what felt like an eternity. This was a first. Should one say that Xia Chi is extraordinarily gifted—or that he’s incredibly accommodating? Thinking about life from now on… it should be pure sexual bliss.

Though his memory remained a bit fragmented, his body still recalled every sensation. He had always been the one on top and never imagined that one day he’d find himself on the bottom—but damn, it felt so good, there was no denying it. And when it’s with Xia Chi… it wasn’t so hard to accept at all. With Xia Chi, his limits simply vanished.

After lying there a bit longer, he clutched his aching waist—so sore he could hardly sit upright—and finally climbed off the bed. His body felt clean and dry (and his backside had likely been medicated too), but he was utterly spent; his recollections of that episode were either missing or terribly fragmented.

Casually, he grabbed a bathrobe from the cabinet and draped it over himself. Shuffling his way to the bathroom, even the short distance made him break into a light sweat. When he finally reached the sink and looked into the mirror, he realized he had scarcely taken a proper look at himself before.

From his neck to his chest, hardly any unmarked skin remained. On his shoulders, faint impressions of teeth could even be seen—evidence that his partner had tried hard to restrain himself; all that was left was a pale, thin circle, yet it was still outrageously noticeable. He unfastened his bathrobe, turned around, and then discovered that his back, too, bore sporadic marks like tiny petals scattered on pristine white snow.

Just as he was about to pull the robe back on, a thought struck him. He removed the robe once more and traced down the line of his spine. Sure enough, the more sensitive the area, the more marks there were—on his butt, one could even see blueish fingermarks. He was already scheming that when Xia Chi returned, he’d leave even more marks there, so that the fragmented pieces of his memory would automatically claim their owner.

Kneeling on the bed with a dazed expression, his mouth slack and saliva trickling down the corners, dripping onto the sheets, his arms eventually gave out and his upper body collapsed onto the bed, panting like a small animal.

Wanting to check on him, Xia Chi paused his own actions and leaned down to scoop him up. Twisting his waist in dissatisfaction, he bit the outstretched hand of He Xiaoyun and mumbled, “I want… I want to devour you, you…”

Even though He Xiaoyun knew it was partly his own fault, he naturally held Xia Chi responsible. As he pulled on his bathrobe, about to wash up, someone hurriedly burst in through the door. Still clutching his toothbrush, He Xiaoyun turned his head and saw Xia Chi looking at him with a nervous expression. Noticing that his face seemed oddly blank, Xia Chi cautiously offered, “…Need to wash up? I’ll help you.”

“Help me with that too?”

He Xiaoyun slowly set the toothbrush aside, resting his hand on the sink, and coolly replied, “Oh, then I need to pee—will you help me with that as well?”

He had intended merely to tease him, but to his surprise, Xia Chi’s face immediately flushed red, his eyes too shy to meet his gaze. Amused, He Xiaoyun thought that he—the one who had been on top and had finished everything—felt no embarrassment at all. What was there for Xia Chi to be embarrassed about?

Before He Xiaoyun could say anything further, a flood of memories rushed back.

“…It’s coming out.”

Lying on the shower’s glass, with his entire body weight pressing on the arm supporting his waist, He Xiaoyun’s brows furrowed tightly. His fingers frantically clawed at the water-moistened glass, while his mouth let out feeble, gasping sounds.

Behind him, Xia Chi steadied him with one hand around his waist—afraid he might fall—while the other arm wrapped around his leg.

“It won’t happen, you just…” Xia Chi began, but then he noticed that He Xiaoyun’s voice had changed; his lower abdomen had tensed tightly, followed by subtle twitching. Water trickled slowly down the glass door. Already in a daze, He Xiaoyun lowered his head for a brief look, and then he fainted.

He lost control and wet himself.

Heh.

Even the battle-hardened He Xiaoyun couldn’t help but feel his ears heat up—and even the bathroom became almost unbearable to look at. Overcome with both shame and anger, he didn’t even brush his teeth; instead, he flung the toothbrush onto the sink in front of him, straightened up with a cold expression, and prepared to leave.

But after just a few steps, his legs and waist gave out, and Xia Chi caught him in his arms. Gently, Xia Chi carried him back to the bed. Noticing the unsatisfied look on He Xiaoyun’s face—and not meeting his eyes—Xia Chi softly and anxiously asked, “Are you hungry? Shall I have the butler bring you something to eat?”

At the sound of that, He Xiaoyun turned his head and glared fiercely, “Change rooms.”

“Okay.”

“Next time, I’ll be on top of you.”

Xia Chi immediately nodded, “Alright—anytime works.”

That there could be a next time meant he wasn’t truly angry. What couldn’t he agree to?

Seeing how quickly Xia Chi agreed, He Xiaoyun’s mood lightened ever so slightly, and he found Xia Chi a bit more agreeable. Then, coldly, he ordered, “Brush your teeth.”

Xia Chi brought the toothpaste-squeezed toothbrush to the bed, carrying a glass of water and a small basin for him. When washing his face, he used a towel to gently wipe He Xiaoyun’s skin, making sure that throughout the entire process, He Xiaoyun’s hands remained still.

He Xiaoyun was used to being served by others, yet when it came to matters of close intimacy, he wasn’t accustomed to someone getting so near. Moreover, none of his previous lovers had been as meticulous as Xia Chi—every movement was so gentle, as if Xia Chi feared hurting him and upsetting him.

Still, it was clear that Xia Chi lacked experience. Even though he was patient and careful, when wiping his face he accidentally tugged a few strands of He Xiaoyun’s hair. At the slightest frown from He Xiaoyun, Xia Chi quickly leaned in and kissed the spot where the hair had been pulled—just as one might soothe a child.

He Xiaoyun didn’t resist the affection; instead, he silently mused that there was still room for “training.”

After finishing his wash-up, Xia Chi produced some ointment, saying he would apply it to him. He Xiaoyun’s eyes turned as sharp as knives, yet Xia Chi, undeterred, coaxed him into lying down. When he lifted He Xiaoyun’s bathrobe and saw the even more pronounced finger marks and traces on his waist and hips after the night’s events, he suppressed his racing heartbeat. Swallowing hard, he inwardly berated himself for being too rough.

After having attended to him inside and out, and just as the food arrived, He Xiaoyun picked up his phone to read messages that hadn’t been replied to for nearly a whole day and night, while Xia Chi sat at the edge of the bed, cooling a bowl of congee and feeding it to him.

The matter with the Xia family certainly wouldn’t be resolved quickly, and the cooperation between the two groups couldn’t simply be severed with one phone call—there were many entangled interests. But He Xiaoyun had long since mentally condemned the entire Xia family to death.

After finishing a bowl of congee and vegetables, He Xiaoyun tossed his phone aside and looked up at Xia Chi. “What do you plan to do about the Xia family?”

Xia Chi’s usually gentle gaze instantly turned cold. In a composed voice, he slowly replied, “You don’t need to worry about it; I’ll settle everything immediately.”

“Then why come to me if you don’t need my help?” He Xiaoyun was very displeased by Xia Chi’s attempt to distance him. Although he knew Xia Chi didn’t mean to use him, this was the first time He Xiaoyun had been so eager to be used—and yet to be rejected. “If they dare lay a hand on me, it’s none of your business; I won’t let them off easily.”

At the mention of anyone touching him, Xia Chi’s eyes turned even colder—as if he were a wolf whose mate had been stolen, fangs bared. But in the next moment, a hand gripped his chin and forcibly turned his head. His fangs quickly retracted, leaving him looking like a confused little puppy.

“I know you probably have some leverage on them, but this matter is huge—don’t get yourself entangled,” He Xiaoyun said seriously. “Join forces with me, and let’s settle this cleanly.”

He was showing concern for him—Xia Chi felt that the hand wasn’t just gripping his chin, but almost clutching his heart. Since his grandfather passed away, he had never been cared for like this before.

“I don’t want you to get involved,” Xia Chi said, his throat catching slightly. Removing He Xiaoyun’s hand from his face, he cupped it in his palm and murmured, “I originally planned to resolve everything before coming to you.”

In truth, he had a more comprehensive plan—just two years, no, one year would be enough—so that he could extricate himself completely while simultaneously crushing that entire family.

He had heard that the Xia family wanted to form an alliance with He Xiaoyun through marriage, but he never thought He Xiaoyun would agree, so he hadn’t taken it seriously. Yet not only did He Xiaoyun agree, he even rushed to hold an engagement banquet—and at the time, Xia Chi was utterly stunned. Even if it were merely a business marriage, he couldn’t bear the thought of He Xiaoyun becoming his brother-in-law.

So, without a second thought, he rushed in front of him—revealing his plan prematurely and alerting Xia’s father.

But he was terribly afraid—what if He Xiaoyun ended up on the opposing side? What if, after learning everything he had done, He Xiaoyun ended up hating him?

He Xiaoyun looked at the big, bowed-down boy before him. It was hard to imagine how he had endured years alone, facing his own pack of wolves and tigers without anyone to help, trust, or support him—was he clinging to everything solely out of hatred?

“I originally thought that given our relationship, we didn’t need to be so formal.”

He withdrew his hand and looked at Xia Chi coldly, “Seems I overthought it.”

Xia Chi wanted to take his hand, but He Xiaoyun refused—crossing his arms to firmly shut him out.

Terrified of angering him, Xia Chi blurted out his true feelings, “I just don’t want to cause you trouble—I’m afraid you think I’m nothing but trouble.”

He Xiaoyun should be free and unburdened, should enjoy life and all its pleasures—as he had seen so many times before—instead of being held back by his problems.

Turning his face, He Xiaoyun fixed Xia Chi with a seriousness he had never shown before and asked, “What do you think our relationship is?”

He rarely spoke to Xia Chi with such earnestness; he was always casual, flippant, dismissive, teasing, alluring, sexy… in short, never this sincere.

Xia Chi was momentarily stunned.

He had long been certain of what their relationship meant to him—he saw He Xiaoyun as the moon in the darkness, a guiding light, the goal of his life, his one true love. But he wasn’t sure what he was to He Xiaoyun.

A lover? A fuck buddy? Or perhaps just a little dog to be toyed with?

Yet he also sensed, in a vague way, that He Xiaoyun’s feelings for him had already surpassed his own expectations—though he dared not think too deeply about it.

Seeing Xia Chi remain silent, He Xiaoyun sighed in disappointment, “I understand. Since you don’t want to be in a relationship with me, I won’t force it.”

For an instant, Xia Chi’s eyes widened in disbelief. After a three-second freeze, he pounced and grabbed both of He Xiaoyun’s shoulders. His grip tightened uncontrollably, squeezing so hard that it made He Xiaoyun’s bones ache. “What did you say?!”

He Xiaoyun deliberately said nothing.

Frantic, Xia Chi—without even taking off his slippers—climbed onto the bed. He trembled with agitation; the veins on his neck bulged as he tried desperately to control himself, though his voice still rang out loud as he shook He Xiaoyun, “Talk! I—I of course want to be with you. No, I want to marry you! Let’s get married!”

“Marriage? Damn it—I’m about to be shaken to death by you,” He Xiaoyun thought.

He tried to break free, but it was impossible; Xia Chi’s hands clamped onto his shoulders like iron tongs, and with his mouth chattering nonstop about marriage, he wouldn’t let He Xiaoyun speak. Sensing an attempt to escape, Xia Chi became even more frantic and pulled him close, “No, you already said it—you can’t take it back. I heard you. You said it!”