Chapter 06#

Saturday, Song Zhiyan didn’t have class, and he didn’t look at his phone either, honestly lying at home for a full day of rest. Zhou Yun’s interrogation had left him feeling somewhat unsettled, but now that he was in the Zhou household, there were many things he couldn’t simply do as he pleased, so he just tossed the matter to the back of his mind and focused on recuperating his body and spirit first.

At dinnertime, Song Zhiyan woke once, feeling his heart beating a little fast, and tried to get up to find his medicine. Before he could even get out of bed, he heard footsteps outside, so he quickly lay back down in the blankets, closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep.

…It was probably just Uncle Li coming up to ask if he wanted dinner. Why was he so nervous?

Song Zhiyan let out a sigh. Now that he was fully awake, he was overreacting—he hadn’t even done anything wrong, yet he was acting like he had a guilty conscience.

The door handle turned gently. Someone walked in and closed the door, didn’t turn on the lights, and brushed the back of their hand against Song Zhiyan’s forehead.

This kind of gesture was both tender and intrusive. Only two people in the Zhou household dared to do this to him—Zhou Yun walked with a floating, unsteady gait, so the person who sat down in the chair by the bed in the darkness could only be Zhou Yan.

“Awake?” Zhou Yan heard Song Zhiyan’s slightly uneven breathing. “Your fever’s mostly gone. Why aren’t you getting up to eat?”

“Not really hungry.” Song Zhiyan’s voice was hoarse. “I don’t have an appetite.”

Zhou Yan was silent for a moment, then asked if he was still feeling uncomfortable down there.

Song Zhiyan: “…”

Why were both siblings’ thought processes so bizarre?

Song Zhiyan didn’t respond, so Zhou Yan took it as confirmation. He got up and left for a while, then came back, closed the door properly, and started pulling off Song Zhiyan’s pants.

“Zhou—Zhou Yan!” Song Zhiyan cried out in shock, scrambling back into the bed in panic. “Are you crazy?! There are people everywhere outside! What are you—mmph.”

Zhou Yan pinched Song Zhiyan’s chin and fed him a sip of water. Even after he swallowed, Zhou Yan didn’t let go. Twining his tongue around Song Zhiyan’s in a deep kiss, he reached down between Song Zhiyan’s instinctively clenched buttocks, smeared the cool medicinal ointment at the entrance, and kneaded it slowly in slow circles.

Song Zhiyan wanted to scream, wanted to struggle, but his voice and breath were thoroughly blocked by Zhou Yan’s burning lips and tongue. The slight suffocation deepened the fear and sensitivity brought on by the deprivation of sight, and Zhou Yan’s physical dominance pressed him into the bedding with no hope of escape.

Song Zhiyan felt as though he had returned to last night—rough fingertips pressing against the tender entrance, stirring up maddening itch, along with a flustered feeling as if being teased by the tip of a cock, and a hint of secret excitement.

Zhou Yan didn’t enter, only sliding in small movements along the cleft of his ass, occasionally sinking half a finger in by accident due to the ointment’s lubrication, but quickly withdrawing to continue rubbing at the same rhythm, alternating between light and firm pressure.

By the time Zhou Yan finally released Song Zhiyan to catch his breath, the large hand over his rear had moved from behind to the front, gripping the spot he could least endure being touched.

“Mmn… no, no…”

Song Zhiyan instinctively twisted to resist, using both hands and feet to push Zhou Yan away.

“No?” Zhou Yan whispered by his ear, his wet, hot tongue licking at that soft flesh. Feeling the thing in his hand suddenly twitch, he gave a low, cold laugh. “But you’re hard, Song Zhiyan.”

Song Zhiyan’s eyes flew wide open, but Zhou Yan’s next words blocked everything he wanted to say.

“It wasn’t that uncomfortable last night, was it?” He stroked Song Zhiyan’s cock as he mocked him. “Felt pretty good being fucked by me, didn’t it?”

Song Zhiyan shook his head with difficulty, wanting to deny Zhou Yan’s accusation, but then a sharp pleasure grazing over the tip stole his breath away, and he couldn’t help trembling all over as he moaned.

“So sensitive.” Zhou Yan blocked the tip with his thumb to keep him from coming, stroking up and down with alternating pressure, deliberately teasing the sac underneath, making Song Zhiyan’s panting take on a more desperate, tearful tone. “Want to come?”

Song Zhiyan nodded frantically and said yes, and Zhou Yan smiled again, coaxing him in a low, gentle voice: “Will you still let me fuck you in the future?”

Song Zhiyan was so immersed in desire he couldn’t think at all, only able to be led step by step into the trap by Zhou Yan, until finally he had to grab onto this one and only lifeline.

“…Yes, gege, I’ll let you fuck me.” Song Zhiyan’s eyes were hazy as he weakly tugged at Zhou Yan’s sleeve. “Let me… mmn, let me come, please.”

Zhou Yan, satisfied with the answer, finally stopped tormenting Song Zhiyan. After rapidly stroking him a dozen or so times, he pressed down on the convulsing, twitching Song Zhiyan and released his thumb, letting him cry out as he came into Zhou Yan’s hand.

Zhou Yan didn’t get up. He held Song Zhiyan, who had gone unusually quiet and obedient after just having come, for a while, then grabbed a tissue to wipe his hand clean before leaving.

When he returned, he carried a tray with a bowl of congee and two dishes. The portions were small and relatively light, but to Song Zhiyan, who had gone two meals hungry today, the smell was wonderful.

He wasn’t the type to mistreat his own body. When Zhou Yan told him to get up and eat, he slowly sat up, picked up the bowl and chopsticks, and swallowed mouthful after mouthful along with the still-warm dishes.

The unexpected intimacy seemed to have diminished some of the distance that had existed between him and Zhou Yan.

Tall, handsome, cold, outstanding.

But because of his unreasonableness and indulgence in lust, he had become an approachable ordinary man.

A vulgar villain.

Song Zhiyan secretly added the definition in his heart.

So agreeing to the villain’s demands became perfectly justifiable—it definitely wasn’t because he had failed to resist the temptation Zhou Yan offered.

After finishing dinner, Song Zhiyan lay back down to sleep. He wasn’t actually that sleepy, but he was afraid Zhou Yan would be petty and demand that he immediately serve him in return—he had only just gotten over his fever, and his stamina hadn’t recovered yet.

Fortunately, the pervert Zhou Yan also had his non-perverted moments. Or perhaps he figured that since Song Zhiyan had already agreed to sell himself, and last night he had already inspected the goods inside and out, there was no rush. So when he saw Song Zhiyan lie down, he didn’t stay longer, closing the door behind him as he left.

For the next two days, Zhou Yan didn’t return to the old residence. The bedroom filled with chaotic memories was cleaned thoroughly, restored to the appearance of a hotel room no one had stayed in.

Sunday was Song Zhiyan’s weekly fixed day to return to G City to visit his mother. Because he had to rush back in the evening to fulfill his chat duty with Zhou Yun, he got up early, asked the driver to take him to the high-speed rail station, took a half-hour train ride to reach G City, bought some fruit and reasonably long-lasting flowers on the way, and headed straight to the sanatorium.

It was almost 11 o’clock by the time he saw her. Song Zhiyan first helped his mother put the flowers in a vase, peeled an apple and cut it into pieces on a plate, then used a toothpick to feed them to her. His mother laughed and said he was treating her like a child, why feed her at all—she ate slowly herself, occasionally stuffing a piece into her son’s mouth as well.

His father had originally been an employee at a pharmaceutical factory under the Wanren Group. After he died from a workplace injury, the factory gave the mother and son a sum of compensation.

At the time, the Wanren Group was at a critical stage of going public, and any negative news could adversely affect the stock price. Chairman Wan, upon learning of the matter, added another sum from his own pocket and placed Song Zhiyan, who was still in elementary school, on the group’s list of sponsored impoverished students, providing monthly subsidies.

Later, Yang Lanzhi’s health broke down from years of accumulated strain. She retired early to convalesce at home. Chairman Wan understood that Song Zhiyan, studying in another city for university, couldn’t always be there to look after her, and also to spare him from constantly traveling back and forth and derailing his studies, arranged for Yang Lanzhi to stay in the best sanatorium in G City, and had the group cover all expenses in advance.

For all this, Yang Lanzhi had always been deeply grateful to Chairman Wan. Every time they met, she would remind Song Zhiyan to study hard and, once he started working in the future, to repay the money to them.

Song Zhiyan nodded and said he knew, just as usual, without telling her about Chairman Wan’s request that he enter into a fake marriage with Zhou Yun.

Lunch was takeout Song Zhiyan had specially packed from his mother’s favorite restaurant. When he stood up to set out the dishes, Yang Lanzhi caught sight of the faint bruise marks on his wrist, looking worried as she asked what had happened.

Song Zhiyan shook his head, saying it was just a game where they’d tied his hands during a club activity. It didn’t hurt, and it would fade on its own in a few days.

Yang Lanzhi could never stand seeing her son hurt. She grumbled about what kind of game would torment people like that, telling Song Zhiyan not to play it anymore—if he actually got hurt, she’d have to go to school in person to see him.

“Won’t play it, won’t play it, just this once.” Song Zhiyan put food on her plate. “Don’t go running around with your leg in that condition. If you cause trouble for Senior… Qin again like last time, I wouldn’t even know how to repay that favor.”

In his sophomore year, Song Zhiyan had accidentally fallen from his bed in the dorm and fractured his leg. His roommates took him to the hospital, and because he needed to pay the hospitalization fees, he contacted his mother to explain the situation. Yang Lanzhi panicked, immediately booked a high-speed rail ticket to go see her son. Rushing along the way, she only realized after getting off the train that she’d left her phone on the train. She stood by the roadside, not even knowing which hospital her son was in.

Fortunately, Qin Shu happened to be handling business nearby at the time. He’d probably seen the photo Song Zhiyan had posted on his moments with his mother, recognized Yang Lanzhi, and called her into a taxi to take her to the hospital where Song Zhiyan was. However, since his business wasn’t finished, he had to leave first, telling her to go in and find her son on her own.

After seeing her son, Yang Lanzhi mentioned the incident. She hadn’t asked the man’s name, only heard him introduce himself as Song Zhiyan’s senior, and told her son to thank him properly.

Song Zhiyan didn’t have many seniors he knew. The only one close enough to possibly help was Qin Shu. He sent a WeChat message to confirm, and sure enough, it had been him. After being discharged from the hospital, Song Zhiyan proactively treated Qin Shu to a meal.

Later, when he agreed to date Qin Shu, besides having feelings for him, it was largely because of this incident.

Coming from a single-parent family with a chronically ill mother, the burden attached to him had only ever earned him looks of pity mixed with avoidance.

But Qin Shu had helped him and his mother without hesitation.

This would definitely be someone worth entrusting himself to.

Song Zhiyan thought.

Unfortunately, in the end, it lost to time and didn’t make it to the finish line.

Song Zhiyan stayed with his mother until past 4 PM before leaving. He returned to the Zhou residence around 7 PM, just in time to have dinner with Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun had been alone in the house all day, bored to death, and asked with a cold face where Song Zhiyan had gone.

She didn’t seem willing to communicate with the butler and servants—otherwise, she could have asked anyone and found out, without needing to wait until he came back.

Song Zhiyan said he’d gone back to G City to visit his mother. Zhou Yun then asked what was fun in G City. Song Zhiyan mentioned a few landmark attractions, and seeing the interested look in her eyes, asked if she wanted to go.

“I do.” Zhou Yun said. “Next time you visit your mother, bring me along.”

Song Zhiyan frowned and refused: “My mother doesn’t know yet…”

“Oh right, your mother didn’t attend our wedding.” Zhou Yun propped her chin on her hand and smiled. “But the charity gala is coming up at the end of this month—the group’s annual public show for appearances’ sake. We’ll both have to attend. When the media takes photos and posts them online, guess whether your mother will find out?”

I don’t know what to say, so I’ll just smile (hehe