YMW CH 53

Catching a Cheater

Cen Wu had only meant to hold him for a little while, but Xie Guilan didn’t let go. He clung to him tightly, like he was afraid Cen Wu might disappear. Cen Wu’s heart softened all over again—he couldn’t help it.

He gently ran his hand over Xie Guilan’s back to comfort him, then gave his head a soft pat. He didn’t have the heart to pull away first, worried it might upset him. So they just stayed like that for a few more minutes, arms wrapped around each other.

Then suddenly, Cen Wu felt something warm and wet on his neck.

He froze.

Xie Guilan was still holding on tight. Cen Wu struggled to lift his hand, wanting to gently push him back a little so he could see his face.

No use. The guy was holding him like a vice.

Cen Wu gave up resisting and reached up instead, his fingers brushing along Xie Guilan’s cheek—and to his surprise, he felt tears.

His fingers trembled.

Xie Guilan’s cold lips pressed against his neck, then sank in for a bite. Cen Wu flinched from the pain, but before he could react, Xie Guilan lowered his head and soothingly licked the spot.

Cen Wu felt torn. He knew he shouldn’t have come back. He couldn’t give Xie Guilan false hope—starting something between them again would only mess with his sense of security.

But a part of him was still glad he came. If he hadn’t… would Xie Guilan have cried like this, all alone?

Xie Guilan held him for more than ten minutes before finally letting go. When he looked up, his face had returned to its usual cold, unreadable expression—no sign at all that he’d just cried. Not even red eyes.

Cen Wu couldn’t help it. He leaned over and peeked at his face.

Wait… he really was crying?

Xie Guilan: “…”

Expressionless, he asked, “Young master, what are you looking at?”

“…Nothing,” Cen Wu quickly shrank back a bit. He wasn’t afraid of getting hit anymore, but he was afraid of getting bitten again. He blinked and looked all innocent. “Really, nothing.”

He took Xie Guilan’s hand and started walking them out of the alley. That slap from earlier had landed hard—he wanted to check if there was any bruising on Xie Guilan’s face.

But the second he held his hand, Xie Guilan’s fingers curled in slightly, and his lips turned pale.

“What’s wrong?” Cen Wu paused, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Xie Guilan said calmly, gripping his hand a little tighter.

Cen Wu didn’t buy it. Instead of letting Xie Guilan hold him, he switched to grabbing him by the wrist. When they reached a spot under a streetlight, he ignored the other’s resistance and forcibly looked at his hand.

That’s when he saw it—Xie Guilan’s palm was burned from a cigarette. The skin was blistered and bleeding, the wound still fresh. His fingers were deathly pale, making the red stand out even more.

Xie Guilan lowered his eyes, acting like it didn’t hurt. Once Cen Wu had seen enough, he quietly pulled his hand back like it was no big deal.

“…,” Cen Wu didn’t say anything either. He just pulled him along to a nearby pharmacy. Bought some ointment, and an ice pack too.

They found a step to sit on, and Cen Wu helped rinse the wound, then passed him the ice pack for his face.

Xie Guilan didn’t move.

Instead, he leaned in again, hugging Cen Wu from the side and burying his face in the curve of his neck without saying a word.

Cen Wu sighed. It was like having a giant bear draped over him, heavy and silent. But he didn’t have the heart to scold him. So he just held onto Xie Guilan’s hand and, awkwardly, kept tending to his wounds.

Xie Guilan had clenched the burning cigarette between his fingers, pressing it so hard into his palm that he’d burned himself in several places. His once pale, clean palm was now covered in a mess of red, blistering marks.

Just looking at it made Cen Wu wince. He couldn’t understand how Xie Guilan had endured it—it would take at least a couple of weeks for the burns to heal. He cradled Xie Guilan’s hand gently, blew on it a few times, then carefully wrapped it in gauze.

When he was finally done, he tilted Xie Guilan’s chin up to check his face. He’d definitely slapped him hard—harder than he had that time with Xie Shangjing. It wasn’t swollen, but you could still faintly make out the imprint of his fingers.

“It hurts,” Xie Guilan’s dark, downturned eyes looked up at him, voice suddenly low and quiet.

The guilt hit Cen Wu right in the chest. Kissing a few times wouldn’t kill him—why the hell did he have to go and hit him?

“Then… what should I do?” Cen Wu’s eyelashes fluttered. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Xie Guilan’s eyes. He gently stroked his cheek and said, feeling a little guilty, “How about… you just try not to feel the pain for now?”

Xie Guilan: “…”

Without a word, Xie Guilan leaned in and stole a quick kiss from his lips.

Cen Wu: “…”

Cen Wu: !!!

He was so shocked he almost slapped him again.

“I just wanted to kiss you,” Xie Guilan murmured in his hoarse voice, then slumped against him once more. He was tall and lean, practically covering Cen Wu completely when seen from behind, like he was trying to merge into him.

Cen Wu: “…”

Unreal. This guy really had no sense of consequences.

“If you keep this up,” Cen Wu warned, knowing full well he couldn’t hit or yell at him, “I won’t talk to you anymore.”

He realized Xie Guilan was doing all this because he knew Cen Wu wouldn’t actually get mad. That’s why he kept pushing—hugging him, kissing him, even trying to pull down his pants earlier. If this went any further, who knew where it would end?

Xie Guilan paused, stopped kissing him, but didn’t let go. Instead, he asked in a low voice, “Why do you keep messaging him?”

Cen Wu blinked, taking a second to realize he meant A’Ling. He pulled out his phone with a frown and said defensively, “I paid him, you know.”

Ungrateful bastard.

Who was he spending all that money for, anyway?

Xie Guilan didn’t reply. He stared down at Cen Wu’s phone, and Cen Wu, feeling a bit fed up, handed it over. Xie Guilan didn’t take it right away. His voice was low and restrained. “Can I look?”

“You can.” Cen Wu said.

No need to act all dramatic.

He was already halfway to grabbing it—might as well go all in.

Honestly, Cen Wu figured if he didn’t give it to him, Xie Guilan might haunt him like a ghost all night.

Finally, Xie Guilan took the phone and started scrolling through his chats with A’Ling. Sure enough, it was just daily transfers. Even when they did talk, it was always A’Ling reporting stuff to Cen Wu.

The storm brewing in Xie Guilan’s eyes eased a little. He kept scrolling up—until he suddenly came face-to-face with a shirtless ab pic.

Xie Guilan: “…”

It was from the night Cen Wu had entered the novel—A’Ling had sent it out of nowhere.

Cen Wu was startled too. His first instinct was to snatch the phone back, but that would just make him look guilty. It wasn’t like he’d done anything shady.

So he resisted.

Xie Guilan swallowed hard. Cen Wu hesitated, then offered in a small voice, “You… you can look at other chats too if you want.”

Only then did Xie Guilan back out of that chat and start checking through the others. His expression stayed unreadable, his eyes heavy as he opened the messages from all the male models who’d been sending Cen Wu pics.

The chat list was endless—he scrolled for over half an hour and still wasn’t done. Just tonight alone, over three hundred guys had messaged Cen Wu. All kinds of selfies, some barely dressed, some practically showing their underwear.

Xie Guilan said nothing. He just leaned in and rubbed his face against Cen Wu’s shoulder.

Cen Wu was suddenly hit with a wave of guilt he couldn’t explain.

He really was awful. Xie Guilan had even let him touch his abs, and here he was still checking out other guys.

But truthfully, ever since that night at the stables, Cen Wu hadn’t replied to a single one of those messages. He’d just quietly read them when they came in. When the senders gave up and stopped texting, he didn’t reach out either.

Xie Guilan still had his arms around him, chin resting on Cen Wu’s shoulder. His sharp features glinted under the streetlight, lashes low, skin pale, and his injured hand was freezing cold.

He looked… unusually fragile.

His arms were still wrapped tightly around Cen Wu’s waist. Cen Wu didn’t really feel pity though—just like he was being haunted by a very clingy male ghost. A very handsome ghost, but still.

After a while, Xie Guilan finally handed back the phone. Then he asked quietly, “Who was that calling you just now?”

Cen Wu: !

He’d completely forgotten about Cen Xiao. He quickly dialed back, and the moment the call connected, Cen Xiao sounded suspicious as hell. “What were you doing? Why didn’t you answer?”

Cen Wu: “…”

Making out with your brother.

“Nothing… really nothing,” Cen Wu said sweetly. “I was in the car and didn’t hear it.”

Cen Xiao wasn’t convinced and immediately started grilling him: whose car he was in, where they drove to, where he was now—demanding rapid-fire answers.

Cen Wu was sweating bullets.

Unreal. It felt like he was being interrogated by two suspicious ghosts.

He already had a stutter, and by the end, his ears were burning red and he couldn’t get a single word out.

Cen Xiao finally took pity on him and let him off the hook—but not without a warning. “Tell him to take you home soon. Don’t even think about staying out overnight.”

Xie Guilan hadn’t said a single word the whole time. Cen Wu had no idea how Cen Xiao even knew it was him.

Must be a family gift—generational instinct for catching cheaters.

There really was zero chance of cheating in the Cen family.

Cen Wu was too busy dealing with Cen Xiao to pay attention to Xie Guilan. When he finally turned back, he found the other man still hugging him, resting quietly on his shoulder, looking all calm and obedient.

Once the call ended, Xie Guilan finally spoke. “Young master, I’ll take you home.”

Cen Wu hesitated for a second. How did this flip? Wasn’t he supposed to take Xie Guilan home?

So he ended up telling him about the thugs from earlier.

Xie Guilan had already seen the chats with A’Ling, but didn’t react much—he just said calmly, “Don’t worry.”

These were all small things—nothing new for Xie Guilan, who had long been used to dealing with this kind of trouble.

To be honest, Cen Wu wasn’t too worried anymore either. Xie Guilan was so calm, it clearly meant he was in an awful mood. Whoever dared mess with him right now was basically asking to die.

So Cen Wu agreed to let Xie Guilan walk him home.

Xie Guilan hadn’t brought his motorcycle tonight. They took the night bus, and after getting off, it was another ten-minute walk to the Cen family villa.

Cen Wu pressed his lips together. Just now, Xie Guilan had almost bitten them raw. His mouth still tasted of blood.

He gave a small smack and winced—now he realized why that kiss had felt so off earlier.

Wait a second… dude, you’re into guys?

What happened to that classic overpowered male lead stuff?

Cen Wu felt like he’d been played. What kind of bait-and-switch transmigration story was this?

He could tell Xie Guilan had a strange attachment to him, but he’d always firmly believed Xie Guilan was straight. So he kept lying to himself, stubbornly refusing to consider that the feelings might be directed at him.

Who would’ve thought Xie Guilan could just switch teams like that?

Under the night sky, the lights of the Cen estate glowed faintly in the distance. Xie Guilan walked him up to the villa gates, eyes fixed on Cen Wu’s lips.

Cen Wu’s pale ears flushed red. He turned to go, but Xie Guilan grabbed his wrist and pulled him into another hug.

Cen Wu’s heart almost jumped out of his chest. He thought Xie Guilan was about to kiss him again—if anyone in the Cen family saw, he’d be doomed. But Xie Guilan just cupped his face and gently squished his cheeks.

His pale skin puffed up adorably under Xie Guilan’s fingers.

Then Xie Guilan unexpectedly smiled. Those dark peach blossom eyes turned soft and misty as he said, “Go on in.”

“…Mm.” Cen Wu walked a few steps, then looked back. Xie Guilan hadn’t moved. The shadows stretched long beneath him, matching the heavy look on his face and the sluggish drag of his steps.

Cen Wu paused, tempted to run back and ask Xie Guilan to stay the night. But Xie Guilan just waved him off, telling him to keep going.

Cen Wu bit his lip and turned to run the rest of the way home. He bolted to his bedroom, grabbed his pillow, and flopped onto the bed without moving.

His entire face was buried in the pillow, only the tips of his pale ears peeking out. After a few minutes, they were red as cherries.

The quiet of the bedroom only reminded him more of the feeling of Xie Guilan’s tongue teasing against his own in that kiss.

Cen Wu gave the pillow a few frustrated punches. He stayed there until he almost suffocated, the heat in his face finally fading a little. Then he lifted his damp, misty eyes.

This was all Xie Guilan’s fault for tempting him.

Cen Wu didn’t want to think about it anymore. He went to draw the curtains and head to bed, but when he got to the window, he froze.

It had been over half an hour—Xie Guilan still hadn’t left.

Cen Wu didn’t dare call out for him, afraid someone else in the house would hear. He called him instead and ran out to the balcony, waving his arms hard.

“You… why are you still here?” he asked.

Xie Guilan picked up quickly, his voice low and hoarse, the kind that made your ears itch. “I’m regretting it.”

“Huh?” Cen Wu blinked. “Regretting what?”

Xie Guilan stared at the tiny shadow standing against the night and said deliberately, “Regretting not kissing you more.”

“…”

Cen Wu short-circuited. He darted back inside, slammed the window shut, and yanked the curtains closed in one go. Then he squatted down and started yanking fistfuls of fluff from the carpet in sheer frustration.

“If I kiss you now I’ll just get slapped,” Xie Guilan said, watching the flustered figure flee. His blood-red lips curled into a lazy smirk. “Or how about this—slap me once, then let me kiss you?”

“…” Cen Wu flushed from head to toe, furious and embarrassed. “Get lost!”

Is kissing the only thing in your brain?!

Xie Guilan chuckled lowly. Cen Wu’s ears burned. He moved the phone away for a second, then brought it back. On the other end, he heard Xie Guilan’s soft voice carried by the night breeze: “Goodnight.”

Cen Wu bit his lip and didn’t answer. Xie Guilan didn’t hang up either.

Cen Wu wasn’t sure if he’d left or not. He waited a few minutes, then cautiously stood up to peek through the curtains.

But with the bedroom light still on, his shadow cast directly onto the fabric—an awkward, small figure like a shy little mushroom.

Xie Guilan watched the silhouette, like a hunter who’d finally cornered his prey. “Goodnight,” he said again.

Cen Wu startled. Only then did he realize he’d exposed himself. He immediately squatted back down and hung up.

He didn’t dare move for a whole minute. When he finally stood, Xie Guilan was no longer outside the villa gate.

But his phone buzzed right on cue.

【Xie Guilan: Cat Tucked In.jpg】

Xie Guilan always knew what Cen Wu was about to do next. His control freak tendencies were terrifying, really—but somehow, Cen Wu didn’t feel scared.

“…Tch.”

Cen Wu had no choice but to reply, ears still red.

【Cen Wu: Goodnight.】

Xie Guilan put away his phone, left the Cen estate, and didn’t go to the hospital or home. Instead, he headed to Blue Night.

Ji Changyu blinked when he saw him. “You’re not even on the schedule tonight. What are you doing here?”

“Give me the drink list,” Xie Guilan said, sliding into a booth.

Ji Changyu handed it over in confusion. Xie Guilan ordered a few beers. Ji Changyu was even more puzzled.

Xie Guilan rarely drank. He almost never smoked either—only when he was seriously upset. Most of the time, he was so strict with himself he wouldn’t touch anything that might dull his brain.

In over a year of knowing him, Ji Changyu had never seen him willingly drink.

“What, I’m your bartender now?” Ji grumbled, but still went to grab the beers.

There weren’t many people at Blue Night tonight. The dance floor was empty. The live singer was just setting up, playing a few test tracks. The first one that came on was an agonized, over-the-top male ballad:

“Fell for someone I never should’ve loved, gave you my soul, then you left me, broke my heart alone…”

Xie Guilan: “…”

His face darkened instantly.

The new live singer had only been at Blue Night for a little over two weeks, but he already realized that no one in the place dared to mess with Xie Guilan.

Even the manager rarely raised his voice at him. Xie Guilan wasn’t just capable—he was ridiculously good-looking too. He was basically the face of the bar. Replacing someone like him would be near impossible.

The manager didn’t want to lose him, but at the same time, there was something dangerously unstable about Xie Guilan. Still, since he wasn’t causing trouble with customers, it was better to just go along with him.

Besides, everyone knew he was Xie Mingcheng’s son. So what if he was illegitimate? It all came down to Xie Mingcheng. Who knew—maybe one day he’d actually start caring about this son of his.

The live singer, scared stiff, quickly switched to another song.

“How can I blame you for making mistakes, when I gave you too much freedom… and it just made you lonelier…”

Xie Guilan: “…”

His expression darkened even further. The singer, nearly in tears, immediately swapped it out for a Debussy instrumental. Only then did Xie Guilan finally look away.

It was already midnight by the time Ji Changyu finished his shift and came over to drink with him. The moment he saw Xie Guilan, he noticed the bruises on his face—as if he’d been slapped. His hand was also wrapped in gauze.

“What the hell happened?!” Ji Changyu cursed in shock.

He had just taken a seat, only to shoot right back up, full of righteous fury. He thought maybe Xie Shangjing and his crew had done something again.

But Xie Guilan took a sip of beer and calmly replied, “Got slapped for trying to kiss someone.”

Ji Changyu sighed in relief. “Oh, that’s not so—”

Then he paused.

A full minute passed.

“…Wait, what the hell?!” Ji Changyu’s eyes nearly popped out. “You didn’t actually confess to that little ancestor, did you?!”

Even knowing how bold Xie Guilan could be, Ji was still shocked he would go that far—just say it straight out like that.

Truth was, Xie Guilan hadn’t meant to confess tonight. He was planning to find a place to take Cen Wu on a proper date, wait for the right mood, and then bring it up. But in the moment, he lost control.

He hadn’t realized…
That he could be so jealous.

“Well, everyone’s gotta get slapped a few times in life,” Ji Changyu said, figuring Xie Guilan had been rejected. “You two aren’t exactly on the same path anyway. Maybe it’s better not to force it.”

Ji’s moral compass was set pretty low. He was the type who believed if someone else cheated, it was despicable; if a friend did it, it was fine as long as no one found out; and if he did it—well, then it was just a tragic love story.

So even if Cen Wu had gotten with Xie Shangjing, he’d still be on Xie Guilan’s side. Let alone now, when he was pretty sure they hadn’t officially dated.

Probably… hadn’t dated, right?

But then again, Song Lingwei was Xie Mingcheng’s mistress. Xie Shangjing hated Xie Guilan’s guts. If Xie Guilan went and stole his boyfriend on top of everything…

Ji didn’t even want to imagine how bad things could get between them.

It would be war.

Whether or not Cen Wu had dated Xie Shangjing, the guy would still see Xie Guilan as the other man. Life was only going to get harder from here.

“Just let it go,” Ji Changyu tried to talk him down. “The Cen family’s got way too much power. You think you can win that game? Even if you get with him now, how long do you think it’ll last? And you know he flirts with a ton of male models. You gonna be okay with him constantly cheating?”

The word “flirt” didn’t sound great, and his tone wasn’t kind either. Xie Guilan’s gaze turned cold instantly.

Ji paused. “…Okay, okay. Not flirting. He’s just—uh, appreciating the male form. Purely aesthetic. He’s super innocent. Happy?”

Only then did Xie Guilan look away, pouring himself another glass. The few bottles of beer on the table were nearly empty.

He didn’t flush when he drank—still pale and sharp-featured—but his movements had noticeably slowed.

Ji Changyu had been giving him a whole heartfelt speech, but it felt like none of it was landing. Finally, he got desperate and said, “If he liked you, maybe it’d be different. But he doesn’t. So why keep pushing it?”

Xie Guilan had barely spoken the entire time, but now, after a few drinks, his lips—already flushed from the alcohol—moved.

“How do you know he doesn’t like me?”

Ji stared. “He slapped you, man. How do you think I know?”

Xie Guilan frowned. “Yeah, but then he came back to comfort me. Why didn’t he go comfort anyone else?”

“…Okay, but why did he only slap you and not anyone else?” Ji was trying to knock some sense into him. “It means he hates you.”

Xie Guilan fell quiet for a second, then muttered stubbornly, “He hit someone else too… but he only came to comfort me.”

Ji was about to lose it. They were just going in circles.

Still, he kept breaking down the pros and cons, talking himself hoarse. He grabbed a drink, downed it, and asked, “So… do you get it now?”

“I get it,” Xie Guilan answered.

Ji finally relaxed.

And then—

“You’re just jealous of me,” Xie Guilan added coolly.

Ji Changyu: “…”

Go to hell, you hopeless lovestruck idiot!