Heart

    Cen Wu froze for a second before his face burned red. He gritted his teeth. “Xie Guilan, do you have any shame?”

    Xie Guilan didn’t react to being scolded. He just kept holding him tight, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, his voice low and smooth—a little muffled—as he called him brother again.

    The tips of Cen Wu’s ears turned so red they looked like they might bleed. He threatened, “Say it again and I’ll slap you, I swear—”

    Xie Guilan finally lifted his dark eyes, though his chin stayed propped on Cen Wu’s shoulder. He looked almost obedient—but also like he genuinely didn’t understand human speech. It made Cen Wu’s teeth itch with frustration.

    He didn’t dare actually hit Xie Guilan, though. He was afraid Xie Guilan would just kiss his hand instead. He really wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, yell This isn’t healthy!!—but he was also afraid Xie Guilan would enjoy it too much.

    He was starting to suspect that even if he were Xie Guilan’s real brother, Xie Guilan would still chase after him without a second thought. No wonder the Xie family never realized he wasn’t blood-related.

    Either way—whether it was an older brother or a younger brother—somehow, he was always the one getting dragged into this mess.

    What kind of person even is this?!

    There’s no escaping this insane world.

    The moment the thought of Xie Shangjing crossed his mind, his phone buzzed. The screen lit up with an incoming call—Shangjing-ge.

    “Brother,” Xie Guilan’s long lashes lowered slightly, veiling the dark, violent storm in his eyes for just a second before he nuzzled Cen Wu again. “My brother’s calling you.”

    Cen Wu: “…”

    Stop pretending to be well-behaved.

    I can literally feel your murderous intent.

    He assumed Xie Guilan was going to play the magnanimous role and urge him to answer—but before he could even reach for his phone, Xie Guilan’s pale, slender fingers got there first.

    Declined.

    Cen Wu: “…”

    “Don’t pay attention to him,” Xie Guilan murmured, leaning down to bury his face against Cen Wu’s shoulder like he was trying to hide in his arms. But his palm stayed pressed firmly against Cen Wu’s back, holding him in place.

    He made himself seem so small, almost pitiful—enough to tug at Cen Wu’s heart, make it skip unevenly. It was easy to forget the possessive grip behind him, easy to let himself get pulled under.

    Cen Wu hadn’t planned on answering Xie Shangjing’s call anyway. He’d barely stepped into the banquet hall before his stomach started twisting in pain. He hadn’t seen many people—hadn’t even noticed if Xie Shangjing was there. Not that it mattered.

    Xie Guilan’s dark eyes flickered. Still leaning against him, he asked flatly, “What’s my name in your contacts?”

    Cen Wu broke out in a cold sweat. He didn’t want to tell him—but hesitating would only make Xie Guilan overthink. Reluctantly, he handed over his phone.

    And then Xie Guilan saw it:

    Debt Collector

    Not affectionate. Not even neutral. Just straight-up resentful.

    Xie Guilan: “…”

    His lips pressed into a thin line. The hallway at Blue Night was nearly deserted—only staff passed through during shift changes. The dim blue lighting made his skin look even paler, his sharp nose cast in cold shadows. He looked isolated. Lonely.

    Cen Wu waved a hand in front of his face. No reaction. After a pause, Xie Guilan grabbed his fingers and bit down, his mood visibly plummeting.

    Cen Wu felt wronged. The original host was the one who saved Xie Shangjing as ‘Shangjing-ge’! He hadn’t even talked to Xie Shangjing much since taking over—of course he forgot to change it.

    Ugh, whatever. Cheer up, princess!

    Without hesitation, Cen Wu quickly edited Xie Shangjing’s contact to:

    Xie Shangjing the Dumbass

    Then he shoved his phone back at Xie Guilan. “H-here. Change yours yourself.”

    “Brother, change it,” Xie Guilan said without moving. He lowered his eyes, speaking in an obedient tone, “You can change it however you want.”

    Cen Wu didn’t believe him for a second. He knew Xie Guilan would never be satisfied no matter what he changed it to. Refusing to entertain such a dangerous question, he shoved the phone at Xie Guilan instead.

    Xie Guilan took it.

    Then Cen Wu watched in disbelief as Xie Guilan deleted “Creditor” and casually replaced it with “Future Boyfriend”, complete with a small red heart emoji.

    Cen Wu: “……………………”

    I’ve never seen someone so shameless.

    That evening, countless birthday wishes flooded Cen Wu’s phone. Not everyone had been invited to the dinner, and since Cen Wu hadn’t shown up, no one had actually seen him.

    The Cen family lacked neither money nor luxury. Gifts piled up for Cen Wu until he couldn’t remember who gave what. The original host hadn’t even opened all his birthday presents from two years ago.

    Some people tried fishing for compliments, asking how Cen Wu liked the Harley they’d gifted him, hoping to curry favor.

    Faced with this deluge of messages, Cen Wu couldn’t possibly reply to each one individually. Crafting a group thank-you message would take too much effort, so he ignored most and only responded to a few classmates.

    Even the male models from Blue Night messaged him coyly: “Young Master Cen, coming to play tonight?”

    The original host had made it tradition to celebrate at Blue Night after his birthday dinner every year, ordering champagne towers and staying past midnight. Dropping millions in a single night had become expected of him.

    Cen Wu had to admit – the original host lived ridiculously well. This level of extravagance was honestly hard to handle.

    As Cen Wu’s phone kept buzzing, Xie Guilan’s cold peach-blossom eyes lowered slightly. His soft chuckle sent chills down Cen Wu’s spine – that laugh never meant anything good.

    “Don’t give money to A-Ling anymore,” Xie Guilan said as he returned the phone. “I’ll tell you everything from now on.”

    Cen Wu could only hope that was true. Supporting Xie Guilan was bankrupting him. Millions disappeared like nothing. Just to help Xie Guilan earn commission, he’d been secretly buying expensive wine at Blue Night every night, spending 30,000 to 40,000 each time.

    “Have some more cake,” Cen Wu urged Xie Guilan.

    The birthday cake stood over ten tiers tall, each layer with different fillings. Knowing Xie Guilan wasn’t particularly fond of sweets, Cen Wu had only cut him a small slice.

    “Brother, feed me,” Xie Guilan demanded again.

    Cen Wu wasn’t about to indulge this bad habit. He’d only fed him earlier because he’d wanted Xie Guilan to taste the cake before his birthday ended. Why should he do it now?

    “Eat it yourself,” Cen Wu snapped, grabbing Xie Guilan’s wrist. “Don’t you have hands?”

    Xie Guilan’s pale lips quirked as he let his wrist go limp, playing the rogue. “I can’t move.”

    “You pushed me earlier.”

    “It still hurts.”

    Cen Wu: “…”

    The silence spoke volumes.

    He desperately wanted to leave Xie Guilan behind, but the younger man clung to his waist like a limpet, as if nothing mattered more than this moment together – not even birthdays.

    Taking a deep breath, Cen Wu reminded himself it was Xie Guilan’s birthday after all. Maybe he could afford to be a little soft, indulge him just this once. Picking up the fork, he began feeding Xie Guilan.

    Those dark eyes never left his face as Xie Guilan ate obediently, bite after bite.

    The palm-sized slice disappeared quickly, and Cen Wu felt an inexplicable swell of paternal affection.

    Xie Guilan caught his hand, rough fingertips brushing over Cen Wu’s knuckles as he murmured, “Brother, don’t you want some?”

    Cen Wu flushed, realizing he’d created a monster. Why was Xie Guilan asking for more after finishing his portion?

    He opened his mouth to curse, but before he could speak, Xie Guilan suddenly kissed him.

    Cool lips pressed against his own.

    Xie Guilan leaned in, pinning him down, that infuriating smirk hidden just out of sight.

    The kiss left Cen Wu stunned. Before he could react, Xie Guilan cupped his neck and deepened it, tongue slipping past his lips. The sweet cream flavor melted between them as their tongues met.

    The blue veins in Xie Guilan’s neck stood out as he sucked on Cen Wu’s tongue. Under the cold blue lights, his handsome features took on a dangerously addictive quality.

    When Xie Guilan finally pulled back, biting Cen Wu’s lower lip lightly, it bounced back with a soft plump.

    Trembling with embarrassment, Cen Wu could only endure as Xie Guilan kept nibbling.

    The kiss overwhelmed him completely. Xie Guilan had improved dramatically since last time – enough to leave Cen Wu feverish and breathless, as if they’d crossed some irreversible line.

    Kneeling beside him, Xie Guilan’s leather shoes creased. When had he undone his shirt buttons? Cen Wu’s wandering hand brushed warm abs and he nearly jumped.

    Xie Guilan gripped his wrist firmly, forcing him to trace each defined muscle. At seventeen or eighteen, the boy radiated heat. In the dim light, with Cen Wu’s vision blurred by unshed tears of shame, everything felt surreal.

    His fingers might have even brushed something lower – something hot and pulsing that he dared not think about.

    Xie Guilan bundled him into his coat, hiding him completely. Even if someone came, they’d only see Xie Guilan’s disheveled state, never guessing who he held.

    That someone turned out to be Ji Changyu, working overtime tonight. Slipping away to slack off, he’d just entered the hallway when the wet sounds of kissing reached him.

    Ji Changyu wasn’t shocked – Blue Night saw plenty of this. He’d witnessed countless makeout sessions here.

    But as he turned to leave, a low, rough voice moaned, “Brother.”

    Ji Changyu: “…”

    Ji Changyu: !!!

    He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Peering closer, the dim blue light revealed nothing clearly – just Xie Guilan’s dark eyes meeting his.

    The look Xie Guilan gave him was ice-cold, silently commanding: Close the door. Leave.

    Ji Changyu stared as if he’d seen a ghost. Damn, this guy’s really lost it. He couldn’t even begin to imagine Xie Guilan using that tone to call someone “brother”—with that level of shamelessness, the guy could probably succeed at anything.

    Once Ji Changyu had left, Xie Guilan cupped Cen Wu’s face and kissed him several more times, his lips lingering possessively.

    Cen Wu finally bit down on his tongue in retaliation, forcing Xie Guilan to retreat—only for him to switch to sucking gently on his lips instead.

    Endless kissing.

    Cen Wu’s limbs had gone weak from the assault. Resigned, he let Xie Guilan claim his tongue for a while, waiting until he regained enough strength to shove him away abruptly.

    Xie Guilan’s dark eyes burned with restrained hunger, his Adam’s apple bobbing in clear frustration—he was far from satisfied.

    “Y-you—!” Cen Wu wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his face burning as he stammered, “If you keep doing this… I’ll really get mad.”

    Xie Guilan stayed silent. Message received—but he’d do it again anyway.

    A flicker of regret passed through him. Maybe he should’ve let Cen Wu answer that call earlier. But no—he didn’t want anyone seeing (or even hearing) Cen Wu like this, kissed breathless and pliant. Those people weren’t worthy.

    “Did you hear me?!” Cen Wu’s ears were still flushed red as he glared. “What was that for?!”

    Xie Guilan leaned in again, licking at his lips, his voice rough and deceptively obedient:

    “Wanted to feed you, brother.”

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