YMW CH 10

Plaything

Wang Yue felt utterly humiliated; however, he dared not speak further. Tonight, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and endure in silence.

Meanwhile, the bar manager, too terrified to even breathe audibly, had been nervously standing to the side for over ten minutes. Finally, seeing that this group of privileged young men was wrapping things up, he signaled for the dance floor to start moving again.

“What are you standing around for?” he whispered urgently to Xie Guilan. “Hurry up and get a drink ready for Young Master Cen!”

Xie Guilan hesitated briefly, casting a complex look at Cen Wu. After a brief pause, he turned and walked away.

The air reeked of alcohol, smoke, blood, and an overwhelming mix of perfume. Combined with the pulsating crowd, it made Cen Wu feel nauseous. His pale face was drenched in a cold sweat, and waves of queasiness washed over him.

Nevertheless, with his jet-black hair falling messily over his forehead and his snow-white neck exposed, he still exuded a cold and distant demeanor. As a result, no one noticed anything unusual.

“You, stand up,” Cen Wu said, lifting a hand to point at the boy from earlier. “What’s your name?”

The boy, already petrified, remained frozen on his knees. When he heard Cen Wu address him, he shuddered violently.

At that moment, a middle-aged man nearby quickly stepped forward. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he bowed slightly and handed Cen Wu a business card. “Young Master Cen, this is Shen Qingjian. I… I’m his agent, Zhang Liao.”

Zhang Liao wasn’t the type to pimp out his talent. After much effort, he had finally found a promising newcomer. However, Wang Yue had snatched him away, leaving Zhang Liao consumed by anger and worry about what might happen tonight.

It wasn’t the standoff between Cen Wu and Wang Yue that concerned him. Instead, Zhang Liao feared that once Cen Wu left, Wang Yue would take his frustrations out on Shen Qingjian.

Cen Wu didn’t take the business card. Instead, he glanced downward and said meaningfully, “If anything happens, call me.”

“…” Zhang Liao froze, his eyes reddening instantly. He nodded quickly and said, “Of course, thank you, Young Master Cen!”

Although Zhang Liao didn’t have Cen Wu’s number, as soon as Cen Wu spoke, Chu Zijian casually walked over. Without hesitation, he boldly sent Cen Wu’s contact information to Zhang Liao.

“Getting Young Master Cen’s number? You should consider yourself lucky,” Chu Zijian sneered, his lips curling into a sinister smile. He gave Zhang Liao’s shoulder a hard squeeze, making the man flinch in fright.

Cen Wu: “…”

Now that’s what you call a villain among villains.

Meanwhile, Wang Yue’s face, already as red as a pig’s liver, twisted further. He was boiling with anger and had planned to teach the young actor a harsh lesson once Cen Wu left.

But who would’ve thought Cen Wu would interfere to this extent—meddling with even Wang Yue’s people? It was insane!

Cen Wu didn’t pay Wang Yue any more attention. Having grown up on film sets with a director father, he knew the entertainment industry inside and out. Consequently, Wang Yue’s petty schemes were completely transparent to him.

In the meantime, Xie Guilan moved quickly, returning with the drink already prepared.

“I won’t keep you, Brother Yue,” Cen Wu said, barely able to stand. Leaning on Xie Guilan’s arm for support, he tilted his chin slightly toward Wang Yue. “Please, carry on.”

The bar’s dance floor was a sea of writhing bodies. Cen Wu, drenched in sweat, leaned against the wall, trying to avoid the crowd. However, after only a few steps, his legs gave out.

Xie Guilan instinctively reached out and caught him before he could collapse. Unfortunately, before they could leave, they were swept by the restless crowd into a corner.

Cen Wu leaned half against Xie Guilan’s chest. Xie Guilan, a head taller than him, had his breath brushing hotly against the side of Cen Wu’s face and neck. A buzzing filled Cen Wu’s head.

In that instant, a wave of instinctive fear and anxiety gripped his chest, choking his breath.

Under the flashing lights, Xie Guilan finally got a clear look at Cen Wu’s face. His already pale skin had taken on an icy hue. Furthermore, his ear tips were flushed a deep crimson, as if about to drip blood. There was a misty, dreamlike beauty to him. His long lashes trembled delicately—enough to stir an overwhelming tide of emotion.

Cen Wu’s mind was in chaos. His thoughts were tangled, and he couldn’t focus. He hated physical contact, yet leaning against Xie Guilan made his breathing unsteady and shaky. He pressed his head further into Xie Guilan’s chest, resembling an ostrich hiding from the world, leaving only his pale neck exposed.

The dance floor nearby was packed with people. Cen Wu gripped Xie Guilan’s shirt tightly, unable to stop himself. He buried his head deeper into Xie Guilan’s chest, like an ostrich hiding itself, leaving only his pale neck exposed.

Xie Guilan’s expression darkened, and his brows furrowed in mild irritation. Cen Wu had touched him multiple times that evening, and those soft, pampered hands made the muscles in Xie Guilan’s back tense up uncomfortably.

Xie Guilan couldn’t figure out why Cen Wu hated him so much—more than even Xie Shangjing, who seemed ready to kill him. Yet here he was, sticking so close after once saying he felt sick just looking at him.

“Young Master,” Xie Guilan lowered his head slightly, his cold, dark gaze carefully masked, like a guard dog hiding its sharp fangs.

He looked at Cen Wu’s pale face and trembling shoulders, asking, “Are you feeling unwell? Should I take you home?”

The night’s business was already a bust, and the manager had told Xie Guilan to clock out early without docking his pay.

Xie Guilan didn’t particularly care what happened to Cen Wu, but since this was the bar he worked at, any trouble Cen Wu caused could come back to bite him. He couldn’t afford to deal with that kind of mess.

Cen Wu: Sob, sob, sob.

Take him away. He hated men.

After changing in the staff room and grabbing his things, Xie Guilan took Cen Wu home.

It was already past eleven at night, and the rain still hadn’t stopped. Xie Guilan raised a hand to hail a cab. Cen Wu obediently got in first, pressing his knees together as he waited for Xie Guilan to follow.

Xie Guilan leaned against the car window, the neon lights outside fractured by the rain, casting fragmented reflections over his sharp profile. His nose was straight, his deep-set eyes shadowed, carrying an almost mixed-race intensity.

His injuries from the previous night hadn’t healed yet. The bruises and discoloration stood out starkly against his pale skin.

Cen Wu hugged his backpack, his legs swinging nervously. His gaze darted toward Xie Guilan, unable to stop staring.

Noticing Cen Wu’s cautious glances, Xie Guilan’s thin lips pressed into a cold line. A strange thought flickered through his mind: Was this idiot falling for him?

But no, calling it “liking” wouldn’t be quite right. It felt more like the way Cen Wu treated the male models he summoned—just another plaything for the pampered young master.

The ridiculous thought only lingered for a moment before Xie Guilan dismissed it. For the past ten years, Cen Wu had done nothing but hate him, even wishing him dead. And he hadn’t even bothered to add Xie Guilan on WeChat.

Cen Wu kept staring at Xie Guilan’s side profile, his mind suddenly recalling something. In the original storyline, a similar event had occurred—but it wasn’t tonight. It had happened half a month later when Xie Guilan’s hand was injured, and the person involved wasn’t Wang Yue but Wang Yue’s cousin, Wang Ling.

At the time, Xie Guilan had a fractured right hand, still in a cast. The manager had reassigned him to greet and escort guests.

That’s when he had offended Wang Ling.

Although Xie Guilan had won the fight, his hand had suffered even worse injuries. The bar’s property had been significantly damaged, including a bottle of wine worth tens of thousands, leading to his dismissal and a demand for compensation.

Unable to pay, Xie Guilan had been introduced to an illegal racetrack on the outskirts of the city. In a torrential downpour, he had almost broken his leg racing, and even then, he was still several thousand short.

His homeroom teacher, unable to watch him spiral further, had gone to find Song Lingwei at the hospital. Song Lingwei then approached Xie Guilan’s father for help.

Xie Guilan’s father, always treating his sons like pawns in a power struggle, had happily provided the money. However, he also informed Xie Shangjing, fueling their rivalry further.

A bottomless abyss. Xie Guilan had paid a heavy price before finally clawing his way out.

Cen Wu felt a sudden wave of relief. Thank goodness he had skipped class tonight and followed Xie Guilan to the bar.

A car approached from the opposite direction. Feeling annoyed by Cen Wu’s staring, Xie Guilan turned his head just as the car’s headlights lit up Cen Wu’s pale face. Those panicked, birdlike eyes darted away.

“I… I won’t bully you anymore,” Cen Wu stammered. His voice wavered as he struggled to find the right words. “I wanted to apolo…apologize to you.”

Xie Guilan didn’t particularly care. Whatever Cen Wu wanted, he’d go along with it. It was better than Cen Wu causing trouble. He wasn’t afraid of him—just didn’t want the hassle.

Lowering himself slightly, Xie Guilan softened his gaze until it seemed almost gentle, like a misty rain. “It was never your fault to begin with, Young Master.”

Cen Wu: “…”

Please, drop the act, dude.

The rain-soaked roads stretched on, and it took over an hour to reach the Cen family’s villa. Standing at the gate, Xie Guilan said, “Young Master, I’ll be heading off now.”

“Where… where will you stay tonight?” Cen Wu asked hesitantly.

Xie Guilan could guess what Cen Wu was implying—that he might run into Xie Shangjing and cause trouble. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he replied, “I’m not going home. I have somewhere else to stay.”

Only then did Cen Wu relax.

The Xie family’s house was far from the school, hospital, and bar. Cen Wu knew that Xie Guilan had rented a place to avoid delays with school and to take care of Song Lingwei.

“Okay, good… good night,” Cen Wu said, then suddenly remembered something. He quickly called out, “Wait!”

“Is there something else, Young Master?” Xie Guilan paused.

Cen Wu hesitated, realizing he couldn’t always keep an eye on Xie Guilan. If something happened, he wouldn’t know. It might be better to exchange contact information.

That way, Xie Guilan could message him if anything came up.

Gripping Xie Guilan’s sleeve, Cen Wu’s damp eyelashes fluttered nervously. His voice was both anxious and hopeful, as if mustering all his courage. “C-can I… add you on WeChat?”

“…”

Xie Guilan’s face darkened instantly.