Chapter 30#
The Big Yellow Rabbit#
Zhen Ye stood very close.
Close enough that he didn’t even notice his legs had stepped between Rong Yu’s.
Rong Yu glanced over casually. Zhen Ye was still wearing jeans today—dark blue ones, the fabric straining slightly against his flesh, tracing the lines of his legs straight and lean. He was thin but not frail, bones wrapped in a thin layer of taut muscle that made one want to reach out and squeeze, leaving behind five deep red finger marks.
The little rabbit was in high spirits, deliberately teasing him. Of course he couldn’t bear not to respond.
Grabbing someone’s wrist without warning would be rude. But an arm around the waist was fine.
Zhen Ye had no idea that in just a few brief meetings, this alpha had already secretly mapped out which parts of him were off-limits and which weren’t.
Even less did he know that in the alpha’s long-seasoned mind, a map of the rabbit’s body had already been sketched out, categorized by body part: fur-sensitive, slightly sensitive, not sensitive, and “will lick lick lick uncontrollably if touched here”—extremely detailed.
Zhen Ye was bent over, turning his eyes, and for an instant locked gazes with the man’s deep, dark pupils.
Like prey caught in a hunter’s sights, he only felt a warmth at his waist before a steady force pulled him over.
Zhen Ye suddenly found himself half-sprawled over the alpha’s shoulder. That large hand clamped around his waist was sliding slowly, leisurely down along his tailbone, making his spine tremble in fine shivers. The broad palm moved down to the curve’s arc in no time, and before Zhen Ye could instinctively push back, a fierce heat erupted at his rear—
Smack.
The man’s palm lightly slapped his ass.
Zhen Ye’s body trembled.
“Naughty little rabbit.” That low voice carried laughter, with undisguised indulgence, even a hint of doting. Like an intimate elder who’d known him for ages giving him a light lesson for his verbal impertinence. “Did you think I wouldn’t touch you, so you could tease me as you pleased?”
Zhen Ye’s mind went blank. By the time his consciousness caught up, that heat had shot up along his tailbone—tingling, numbing—flushing his entire neck red.
As an omega, he should now shyly struggle free from the man’s embrace, run into the room, and bury his head under the covers.
But as Zhen Ye, a big yellow rabbit, what surfaced in his mind that instant was:
Ho-ly shit.
Is this a play I get to experience for free?
Zhen Ye.
You’ve come to the right place.
·
In Zhen Ye’s fixed understanding, roleplay was a VIP service you had to pay to unlock.
Whether it was Oyimu’s omega-use androids or other companies’ main omega-use and general-purpose emotional androids, their sustained profit model wasn’t simply selling the android shells.
It lay in users’ add-on purchases of personality modules.
That is, the “VIP roleplay interaction” service.
After purchasing an android, users would get a base personality pack. The gentleness, dominance, tsundere, comedy, and other personas displayed after installation were all basic personality modules set after surveying your preferences.
But if you wanted even more thrilling character roleplay—
Like, a shitty fiancé who kills you after coveting you for a long time, then marries you as a tentacle Cthulhu.
A tsundere nine-tailed fox who’s chased you through ten reincarnations, clearly loves you to death but pretends not to know you.
A sickly-sweet younger man who knows you like his twin brother, so he wears his brother’s clothes and performs “Sister-in-law, open the door, I’m my brother.”
A scum alpha reborn with a task system to clear his name, who flies into a rage and starts a jealousy-fueled melodrama when he discovers you have someone new (requires two or more androids for coordination).
……
The content had everything; the gameplay came in endless variety.
If you wanted to switch to something else, just swap out the personality module pack.
In a way, it was like buying a game and then installing mods yourself.
Of course, at the major manufacturers, these mods were VIP paid content. A personality module whose storyline wouldn’t even last three days could sell for the exorbitant price of 800-1000.
Not to mention holiday special editions, anniversary limited editions—prices jacked higher than the sky.
Perhaps the manufacturers figured users who could afford a 160,000 android wouldn’t care about such pocket change.
But in Zhen Ye’s view, this model was just squeezing users for every last drop when android services were few and far between.
So in his junior year, Zhen Ye contacted a few like-minded friends and together they set up a small studio.
The work was simple: produce personality expansion mods and bring down the shady manufacturers’ prices.
It started as an experiment—they didn’t plan to make money at first, just enthusiasts playing around, earning only some ad revenue.
Then it snowballed bigger and bigger, until people came around wanting to discuss acquisition deals.
However, the capital offered lowball prices back then, and none of them wanted to hand over their labor of love, so nothing came of it.
But Zhen Ye still wanted to keep going.
Because he thought that people need unconditional love to live, need someone to stand unconditionally by their side. In this jungle of a society, in a world increasingly demanding you abandon soft, weak love, respect and understanding had become a luxury.
Only androids could unconditionally soothe you.
Zhen Ye wanted unconditional love.
He didn’t have it.
But he still wanted to use androids to pass that feeling on to those who needed it.
As if doing so, he could invisibly, again and again, save that former rabbit.
Now, Zhen Ye was slowly organizing his new room.
Mr. Rong hadn’t lied to him—this place really could fit everything he owned. A suite of nearly 150 square meters, divided into zones, complete with a tea station and mini fridge.
If he wanted, he could go a whole year without leaving.
He’d only organized half before tossing aside what he was holding and flopping onto the bed that could sink into a " big " shape, tea pot, then looking at the clean bathroom across the way—even now, it still felt unreal.
In just two days, he’d gained the right to drink water and use the bathroom anytime, anywhere.
Besides that, Zhen Ye sniffed his clothes and belatedly noticed the lingering high-grade woody scent on them.
It was Rong Yu’s high-level alpha pheromone.
He’d been in his heat period, and going to the hospital surrounded by a crowd’s jumble of pheromones should have made him feel miserable.
But this time, Rong Yu’s pheromones had been silently shielding him. The other man had enclosed him within it—powerful yet gentle—separating him from the crowd’s scents.
Zhen Ye hadn’t felt even a hint of discomfort the entire time.
He’d heard that high-level alphas could wield their pheromones with perfect mastery, splitting them into offensive, protective, and soothing types.
The last kind, an alpha only released for the omega they desired.
Zhen Ye didn’t know which kind Mr. Rong had been spreading. He only had a vague sense of security, like being sheltered beneath the dense, impenetrable canopy of a lush, towering tree.
Zhen Ye savored the memory, a nameless flutter stirring in his chest.
He hopped off the bed, dragged over his laptop, and jotted down the small detail of “heat period feels better when shielded by pheromones,” saving it into his material folder named 【Gentle Older [BIG] Module】.
He also wrote 【Light spank, appropriate discipline, kind of nice】.
He thought about it, then deleted that entry.
Something that personal—he’d keep it for himself to savor.
Zhen Ye stripped off his pants, wearing only his shirt, and grabbed his pajamas to head to the bathroom. As he walked, the hem of his shirt brushed against the curve of his ass, the slight sting on his skin making his ears redden in the bathroom mirror.
The sensation of the alpha’s palm striking his rear still lingered faintly. Zhen Ye thought, could it have swollen from the slap? He couldn’t help twisting to the side, back to the mirror above the counter, rising slightly on his toes and arching his lower back up, turning his head to look.
His skin was pale—if he got bruised, the blue and purple marks would take days to fade. Now he craned his neck to look, the shirt’s edge pressing against the base of his tailbone, barely covering part of it. Below were legs that, thanks to year-round long pants, never saw sunlight. So compared to his arms, this area was blindingly white.
Yet on that whiteness, rings of red marks abruptly blossomed. The color centered around the crease of his thighs, faintly diffusing outward, like the flesh marks left after wearing a thigh strap—ambiguous as hell.
“Huh?… When did that happen.” Zhen Ye found it odd.
For a better look, he walked out of the bathroom to a brighter spot, bent low, spread his legs, and examined it closely against the light.
And what a look it was—he discovered similar strap-like marks on his ankles too.
Of course…
It must be his socks and jeans being too tight!
He really shouldn’t buy cheap stuff from that bargain app anymore. Look at what it did. Last month the marks on his body had been thin—today they’d grown bigger.
Zhen Ye had previously thought about returning the expensive clothes Rong Yu gave him.
Now, looking at this, he’d better just wear them.
Otherwise, if he accidentally exposed his skin later, people might misunderstand that Mr. Rong had tied him up and abused him.
Though Zhen Ye wouldn’t mind tarnishing Rong Yu’s reputation.
But the gossip he wanted to hear was more like “—look at this old Rong, letting his kept gold-thread rabbit ride his face and make a scene every day,” not that he was being abused.
Zhen Ye turned around, fished out his legitimate “boyfriend,” Brother Stick, from his bag, and walked back to the bathroom with bare legs.
New environment, so first adapt—enjoy one in the shower, then enjoy another in bed later.
He turned on the shower, hot water pouring down over his forehead. Zhen Ye rinsed off first, and once his body warmed slightly, lathered up some soap and gripped his front with the foam.
His back end too, at the same time.
Low, ragged breaths echoed messily in the steam-filled bathroom.
Outside the window behind him, the night was thick as ink. Something was creeping up the glass, its outline slithering upward inch by inch, silently watching his exposed, slender nape and his figure blurred by steam.
After who knew how long, the room’s lights went out. The young man towel-dried his hair, wearing only a loose shirt, pressed his long legs onto the mattress, and slipped under the covers.
On the soft large bed, the blanket rose in a slight mound. With a thin, breathy gasp, the young man’s tensed body relaxed. He turned to the side, pulling the blanket up over himself, and from beside him rolled out a wooden stick—slick and glossy, clearly well-nourished by water.
Creek—
The window was pulled open from outside on the second floor.
Night wind poured in as a thick, robust vine probed inside. It extended its branches through the air, stretching forward with the muscle-like force of a python, searching the room for its prey’s warm, fragrant scent.
【Little rabbit……】
On the bed, that quietly resting wooden stick suddenly jolted violently.
One stick, one vine—fiercely “locked eyes” in the darkness.
The next instant, the wooden stick, like a guard dog catching an intruder’s scent, bristled and shot out slender branches, launching a fierce attack at the vine.
Two inhuman silhouettes twisted and tore at each other in the dark.
Crackle crackle… rustle rustle…
Deep in sleep, Zhen Ye rubbed his cheek against the pillow, a vague thought surfacing in his half-dreams:
The wind tonight is so loud…
·
Leaves everywhere.
Zhen Ye slept straight until noon, only to find the area around his bed a complete mess. Branches, bark, and scattered leaves were strewn all over.
Zhen Ye pressed a hand to his forehead.
Guess he forgot to close the window last night.
Good thing this was a private estate—no thugs crawling in at midnight.
Zhen Ye didn’t think much of it. He nudged the robot vacuum with his slipper and let it wheel around to sweep up the leaves.
Before long, Du Rui came up and knocked, asking: “Will Young Master Zhen be having lunch in his room, or going downstairs?”
Zhen Ye rubbed his hair, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “Is Mr. Rong there too?”
Du Rui smiled: “He is. Mr. Rong also mentioned there are some details about the contract he’d like to discuss with Young Master Zhen.”
“Then I’ll go down.” Zhen Ye agreed.
Just before heading out, the robot vacuum suddenly emerged from under the bed, pushing something along with a rumbling roll.
The moment Zhen Ye saw what it was, his scalp nearly exploded. He dashed over and snatched it up.
Du Rui hadn’t entered the room, only standing at the door and glancing over curiously. “Would you like me to have a maid come up and clean?”
“No, it’s fine, no need,” Zhen Ye hastily stuffed the stick into his pocket. “You go ahead. I’ll be right down.”
Du Rui headed downstairs. Zhen Ye could faintly hear conversation drifting up from below. Rong Yu’s voice was distinctive—magnetic with a touch of huskiness that made one’s heart itch.
Zhen Ye let out a relieved breath. Good thing his little boyfriend was just a wooden stick, not some toy whose terrible purpose was obvious at a glance.
He took the stick out to look at it again. Who knew if the robot vacuum had been too rough—it actually had mottled scuff marks on it now.
Zhen Ye’s heart ached. He held it in his warm palm and stroked it firmly from top to root.
Downstairs, Rong Yu’s voice cut off abruptly.
Zhen Ye noticed fine dust clinging to it, so he brought it into the bathroom to rinse it clean. When he turned it around, he found a vibrant green sprout bud growing from its side.
Zhen Ye: “……?”
That would be so uncomfortable.
Without a second thought, Zhen Ye reached out and snapped it off.
At the same moment, a loud crash sounded from downstairs.
“—Master! Master, why did you suddenly fall?! Master!”