Out on the balcony, Mother Liang’s voice came through the phone, cool as always, but with a hint of surprise.
“I heard from Assistant Wu that you’re looking into the Lin family?”
It was already August. The sky over A City was as clear and blue as polished jade. The presidential suite on FOM’s fifth floor stretched north to south, where bright green palm leaves and vivid clusters of bougainvillea gave the view a Southern France feel.
Liang Jiashu made a quiet sound of acknowledgment. His eyes lowered, asking bluntly: “There’s something wrong with the Lin family?”
Liang Mingzhu was cold by nature, but as someone standing at the top, she instinctively kept track of everything and everyone that mattered. However, the only thing she never bothered to monitor was trivialities like which A Cityaristocratic family her son had suddenly decided to investigate.
From childhood to adulthood, the only times she intervened were when he transferred too much money out at once, or when he spent too many hours sealed in his lab, since she was afraid he’d hold it in for too long and turn into a psychopath.
So if her call wasn’t for Liang Jiashu, then it could only be because of the Lin family.
On the other end, she was just as direct, answering: “Yes. But you don’t need to get involved, and you’re not suited to get involved.”
Liang Jiashu’s tone was flat. “Reason?” he asked.
“No reason.” Liang Mingzhu’s reply was just as flat; her tone carried a casual, unquestionable authority, but being at the top came with both benefits and costs.
The Liang Group was the undisputed leader among A City’s elite families. As the woman holding all the power herself, Liang Mingzhu’s cold exterior was only that, an exterior.
Instead, her true self was swift, ruthless, and decisive.
Not necessarily a good wife or mother, but undeniably a charismatic leader, and absolutely a qualified ambitionist. If she said “no,” then the answer was simply no. But obviously, Liang Jiashu was not her subordinate.
Nor was he a dutiful or obedient son.
The other end of the line remained silent.
Inside the top-floor office, a sharply dressed woman set down her pen and closed her eyes, gently massaging the space between her brows.
“You insist on investigating?” she asked.
Liang Jiashu answered with a quiet “Mm.”
She huffed a low laugh, not bothering to persuade him further.
“Then let’s see what you’re capable of.”
And just like that, she withdrew all the support the Liang family could give him. Then, without waiting for her son’s reaction, she seamlessly switched topics.
“Your advisor has emailed me several times. I heard you still haven’t told her whether you’ll continue with your PhD? The school is offering several excellent study-abroad opportunities. Whether you want to go overseas or stay at A University, your ability isn’t in question.”
“You’re twenty years old now. If you have plans, it’s better to tell me early.”
“Of course,” she added, naturally slipping into a businesslike tone, “if you don’t plan on working under me, you can consider signing a contract with the Liang Group. We can offer fifty percent above market price in exchange for six years of sixty percent patent output. What do you think? Consider it.”
Her switch was instant: from distant mother to equal business partner.
She had no concept of “passing the family business down to the son.” The Liang empire was something she clawed into existence herself, so it was hers. There was no such thing as “natural inheritance.”
Therefore, if he wanted it, he had to fight her for it.
Fortunately, Liang Jiashu was accustomed to that version of her. He thought for a moment, expression unchanged, finally answering: “Give me three months.”
Under the sunlight, his handsome face showed no emotion, but he was always like that. Only in front of Lu Chi did he resemble a living human.
The rest of the time, he was more like a half-alive shell.
Liang Mingzhu readily agreed and flipped back to her documents. At the end, she added a token question:
“And that pretty man you’re pursuing, how’s that going?”
Liang Jiashu froze. A moment later, he lowered his gaze, staring at the beautiful bite mark on the back of his hand as he answered: “We’re very happy. He’s an excellent teacher, he can play piano, guitar, violin; he can sketch, paint; he candance… and he’s beautiful. And he’s also a reserve civil servant. You know what that means? He has a government-track position. I heard civil service hiring has become very strict in recent years, and he got in immediately. You can imagine how outstanding he is.”
Liang Mingzhu: “……”
Completely oblivious to her silence, he continued: “It’s just that the flies buzzing around him are too many, which causes us a bit of trouble. But that’s fine. I’ll simply become the best, so he’ll like me the most. We will definitely stay happy. Thank you for your concern.”
“…Right.”
A pause, then his mother asked: “By the way, are you familiar with delusional disorder?”
“…”
Liang Jiashu went still.
“I do not have delusional disorder,” he answered coldly.
Lu Chi was real.
From the other side of the phone came laughter, light, amused, and totally dismissive. The sound faded as Liang Mingzhu returned to her work. Before hanging up, she added one last line:
“Liang Jiashu, for someone with your temperament, the Lin family isn’t suitable to deal with.”
“You’ve been diagnosed with paranoid personality disorder. Your control tendencies and compulsions will only grow as you age, accompanied by emotional detachment and lack of shame. You have an unusually rich and cruel curiosity toward the unknown.”
“If you weren’t too arrogant to care about anyone, I might have become the first Liang family head to give birth to an antisocial murderer.”
“I assume you’re aware of that yourself?”
Liang Jiashu stared at the pale clouds in the distance, listening to his mother’s warning. After a long moment, he hung up the phone, turned, and walked back into the room.
Inside the bedroom, Lu Chi was sprawled lazily across the bed, skin pale as jade and long limbs tossed carelessly, a kind of accidental artistic beauty.
And extremely attractive.
He was lying there with his phone, eyes half-closed, saying into the receiver: “Dean Lin, did you start investigating because you discovered early on that Liang Jiashu was pursuing me?”
He was direct as ever, with no hint of concealment. Dean Lin paused for two seconds, then answered honestly: “I did receive such information. But A University is not a political battlefield.”
“Every student and teacher is under my protection. As the Dean, I did not approve of it.”
“You were hired because you’re more outstanding than I originally thought, and you earned your teaching position.”
Lu Chi murmured an “Oh,” rolling lazily and curling up like a pink cabbage.
“Dean, that wasn’t me questioning you.”
Dean Lin chuckled, thinking the young man was amusing. “Of course, you weren’t questioning me,” she answered. “You were trying to draw information out of me, weren’t you?”
She had met him and even sat in on one of his classes.
He was confident, but his confidence wasn’t the fragile, brittle kind. It was the spine formed from blood and struggle. Only those who had truly worked hard and lived in the real world could have eyes that bright and charisma that strong.
The poor students at A University were sharp and not easily fooled. The wealthy ones had extraordinary vision from childhood.
But Lu Chi’s charisma, his looks, and his competence were why everyone adored him so intensely.
“After all, excellence shines like a lighthouse wherever it stands. Don’t you agree?
Lu Chi smiled into the blankets, voice rough from sleep. “So… did you let yourself get coaxed by my ‘excellence’?”
…He also had the habit of sweetly acting spoiled toward older women. On the other side, Dean Lin quietly laughed. A moment later, she asked: “You’re trying to learn about the Lin family, aren’t you?”
Lu Chi hummed softly. “If it’s inconvenient for you, then forget this call. I still have Liang Jiashu.”
Honest. Blunt. Clean.
So Dean Lin thought for several seconds, then said, “Actually, I left the Lin family long ago. I don’t go back during holidays, either.”
Inside her office, the middle-aged woman watched the rising steam from her tea, falling into memory.
“Probably around ten years ago. I had just graduated and originally wanted to follow Senior Mingzhu’s path and start my own company… She was very well-known back in school. We all wanted to be as impressive as she was.”
“But the family head refused to listen and directly assigned me to A University’s Art School, forcing me to start as Deputy Director, and I wasn’t allowed to resign.”
“I didn’t know why. Back then, I was obedient, so I just followed the arrangement. It wasn’t until later that I gradually cut ties with the Lin family. Over the years, I’ve watched students come and go, and I actually grew to love the job, so I stayed.”
In Lin Rong’s memory, the Lin family was a strange place.
The old Lin estate wasn’t like those aristocratic residences occupying every inch of prime land in A City. Instead, it was built in the southern suburbs on land they had privately enclosed to construct a manor.
From childhood to adulthood, Lin Rong had only ever seen her parents and a few household staff. No relatives visiting, and certainly no business partners.
She had never once seen the legendary head of the family, Lin Shinian.
Lu Chi paused. “You’ve never seen him?”
Lin Rong hummed. “They say he’s very busy and in poor health. The overseas business is too extensive, and he can’t spare the time for domestic affairs. All social events are attended by his assistant, so our Lin family is practically a branch of an overseas clan.”
Being busy could barely be considered an explanation.
“What about instructions?”
“We have a phone number. If something needs attention, someone will send us a message,” she paused again. “But… no matter if we block it or change numbers… he can always find us and notify us.”
“……”
The air conditioner blew cold wind across the room.
After hanging up, Lu Chi sat with his eyes closed in long silence.
Who the hell had that kind of ability?!
Lu Chi quickly asked his system: [Are you sure this is a normal world? No supernatural ghosts, spirits, anything?]
[None.] The system replied simply. [Worlds with supernatural elements exist in a different dimension. The universe we’re in, including the outer space, belongs to this dimension.]
However, Lu Chi still asked sharply: [Then what is Lin Shinian?]
[Insufficient permissions. Cannot disclose.] The system answered as infuriating as always. [But host Baby, you’re definitely human.]
“……”
Lu Chi thought quietly, not asking further. Just as he was lost in thought, something cold touched his ear. He opened his eyes and met Liang Jiashu’s dark, calm pupils.
The curtains had been pulled open; sunlight poured in, warm and bright.
Liang Jiashu sat at the bedside with a cup of Lu Chi’s favorite iced lemon tea. Seeing him awake, he expressionlessly poked him with the cold cup again, asking: “Hungry?”
Lu Chi raised a brow, grabbed him, and like a long-legged, agile cat, climbed onto his back and hooked an arm around his neck.
“Why’d you poke me with something cold?”
Since the hotel didn’t have his preferred pajamas, Lu Chi had simply slept nude the last two nights. His back stretched in the sunlight, white to the point of eye-stinging, like fine warm jade polished to a glow.
Liang Jiashu immediately pulled over a blanket and wrapped the long-legged cat up, then simply carried him on his back toward the bathroom.
He apologized with zero sincerity: “Sorry. Wasn’t intentional. Breakfast is here, wash up and eat.”
Then he turned his head, posture clearly ready to help him brush his teeth like serving an emperor.
Lu Chi refused, laughing, sliding off his back and shooing him out. He put on a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and after washing up, he stepped out, only to step on something.
He looked down.
A used condom wrapper.
But not one used… during.
One used at the end, impulsively.
Because Liang Jiashu, like a lunatic, had smeared everything together, marked Lu Chi with his initials, forced Lu Chi to say his name over and over, and even started calling him…
“Teacher Lu”
“Xiao Chi”
And at the final moment, very OOC, very breathless: “Baby.”
In his memory, the bathroom was steaming hot, water droplets rolling over Lu Chi’s skin, falling onto the marks on his skin like dew breaking on flower petals.
He looked like a rain-drenched blossom, completely ruined and beautiful.
And yet still smiling, eyes closed as he held Liang Jiashu’s neck, like a shameless fox spirit.
Which is probably why Liang Jiashu had gotten a nosebleed for the first time in his life.
Lu Chi remembered the blood dripping into the bathtub, turning the water red. Liang Jiashu froze on the spot, terrified. Clutching him, he was ready to run for a doctor, wrapping Lu Chi in a bathrobe, but… forgetting to put anything on himself.
Only later did he realize it was his own blood.
Lu Chi had laughed on his shoulder for almost ten minutes. Then, claiming Liang Jiashu’s “almost ruined health”, he finally convinced him to take better care of his body and accept taking a condom.
Even now, picking up the wrapper and tossing it away, Lu Chi was still amused, so he sat at the dining table, took a sip of iced lemon tea, and asked with false concern: “Right… is your nose okay now?”
Liang Jiashu slammed the cutlery down.
Then picked it back up, face cold, as he placed the cut steak on Lu Chi’s plate.
“…It’s fine.”
Lu Chi held back a grin. His legs lifted naturally, resting across Liang Jiashu’s, who also parted his legs naturally to accommodate him.
A completely improper posture.
But very comfortable and perfect for Lu Chi’s boneless laziness.
After two days tangled up together in the hotel, any sense of personal space had long vanished. Their matching hotel shampoo scents mixed in the air. Same toiletries…
But Lu Chi always smelled better.
The butterfly was simply born to be dazzling, and Liang Jiashu accepted the fact without issue. While eating, he asked, “You submitted a resignation letter?”
As student council president, he technically counted as school leadership. He received emails about various internal matters, plus he’d overheard Lu Chi’s call earlier, so he understood immediately.
Lu Chi hummed an acknowledgment.
Liang Jiashu frowned. His first reaction was a cold, dangerous barrage of questions: “Why? Because of us?”
“Someone reported you? Who?”
Four questions in a voice so icy it could kill.
If Lu Chi gave a name, Liang Jiashu looked ready to dismember the person and dissolve the remains on the spot. But Lu Chi laughed, sipping his tea.
“I just wanted to see how the Dean would react. She’s a Lin family member.”
Liang Jiashu’s frown remained.
“But you really do want to resign.”
The letter had been professionally written, clean, concise, and had no placeholder phrasing. If Lin Rong had signed it, Lu Chi would no longer be employed at A University.
So Lu Chi nodded casually.
“I already told her. I’ll cover the three-month leave of the professor who took time off before me. I’ll leave after those three months. Gives me a buffer.”
Lu Chi had already figured it out; whether in the original novel or in reality, the main trio of Gu Yanyan, Liang Jiashu, and Liang Zhiyu had no romantic entanglements among them.
Everything that happened in the plot had hidden reasons behind it.
Even before he interfered, Gu Yanyan had already chosen to get involved with the Lin family. Lu Chi was very smart. Combined with Gu Yanyan’s behavior that night, he immediately realized it was never because of him, but…
Because of desire. Because of unwillingness. Because of the inferiority and jealousy he couldn’t shake off.
Gu Yanyan simply wanted to climb higher.
And Lu Chi’s existence only pushed him to work harder, more desperately, driving himself toward a gambler’s abyss faster.
As if some invisible hand was forcing everything back into its original track. No matter the truth underneath, the characters were compelled to follow their preset trajectories and reach their preset endings.
And, since that was the case, Lu Chi simply withdrew, stopped involving himself with any of them.
As for Liang Jiashu…
Lu Chi lowered his eyes and took a contemplative sip of iced lemon tea.
He really had to leave.
But.. Why?
Liang Jiashu watched him. As always, he couldn’t read Lu Chi’s thoughts, so he stayed silent for a long time. Lu Chi finished eating naturally, cleaned himself up quickly, then stood at the door and tilted his head. “Let’s go back to our villa,” he said
Back to our villa.
Liang Jiashu paused. Because of that single word, all the darkness in his gaze suddenly dissolved.
After a moment, he stood up, took Lu Chi’s hand, and held it tightly.
“Okay.”
……………
National Day break arrived, and A University had nearly ten days off. Every student flocked to FOM, hoping to catch another glimpse of Lu Chi.
But the person they longed for was currently sitting on a plane, heading toward Liang Jiashu’s private island for vacation.
Sometimes, “Heavenly Dragons” really were hatefully privileged.
They arrived at dusk. The tide surged rhythmically, the sunset painting the beach in beautiful, vivid colors. The butler had prepared everything in advance, then quickly boarded a boat with the staff and left the island.
Only the two of them remained.
The sea breeze swept across the sand, humid and cool.
Lu Chi leaned against the wooden planks of the beach walkway, not even making it back to the villa before he was grabbed, wrists pinned above his head, mouth captured in a sudden kiss.
The crashing waves echoed in his ears.
Liang Jiashu kissed him deeply, tongue curling around his, asking again in a hoarse voice: “Why resign?”
Lu Chi laughed; his sharp brows and eyes were breathtaking in the sunset.
“So this was what you were waiting for.”
Liang Jiashu hummed, still kissing him. Their faces close, he traced Lu Chi’s cool earlobe, throat itching, wanting to lower his head as usual, but after being together for some time, Liang Jiashu had developed much more patience than before.
So he barely restrained himself, their noses brushing, eyelashes against eyelashes. His fingers sank into the shallow dip of Lu Chi’s waist as he looked at him deeply.
“So, why?”
Lu Chi breathed twice, his upturned, watery eyes fixed on him, smiling with shameless confidence.
“If I don’t tell you, what can you even do to me?”
With that, he licked his lips in half-provocation, half-seduction, lightly kicking Liang Jiashu.
Liang Jiashu’s breath instantly deepened.
All around them was just sky and sand, pale beach and silence.
Normally, he would never allow Lu Chi to mess around in public, but maybe it was because of the private island and the absolute isolation that Liang Jiashu was excited.
He even had the illusion of forcing Lu Chi in public.
Letting everyone see that Lu Chi belonged to him.
Letting everyone see that he was the one who possessed Lu Chi.
Lu Chi’s breath turned hot under his kisses. He quickly stopped pretending to be weak, pulling him forcefully close.
Their bodies touched, and Liang Jiashu was already impatient.
“You want to do it here?” Lu Chi let out a muffled laugh.
Liang Jiashu slid a hand along his collarbone, dark eyes fixed on his mouth.
“Mm. I want to make Xiao Chi wild.”
“……”
Lu Chi couldn’t help laughing. “Stop calling me that.”
He was often called Xiao Chi at the orphanage, but that was by older sisters or aunties. Liang Jiashu was only twenty, so much younger than him… How could he call him “Xiao Chi”?!
Liang Jiashu immediately changed it: “Mm. Then I want to make baby wild.”
Madman.
Lu Chi squeezed the back of his neck, but was immediately pushed down by the heat-crazed dog, his lips nipped and kissed. The wooden planks were wide, and somehow Liang Jiashu produced a pile of things, scattered across the sand, including several long, soft ropes and soft cloth strips.
Then, under Lu Chi’s amused, knowing gaze, he took one, lowered his eyes, and slowly bound Lu Chi’s hands.
The rope was black. Against his skin, the contrast was striking.
Liang Jiashu had clearly learned from some very improper website, as the knots were beautifully tied, and the tension perfectly controlled.
But Lu Chi’s skin was too pale. Anything even slightly rough made it turn red instantly, making the sight even more suggestive. Clothes dropped onto the sand, and the damp sea breeze brushed over his body. Lu Chi allowed the binding with lazy indifference, glancing down at himself with mild curiosity.
He raised a brow, asking: “Liang Jiashu, you’re into bondage now?”
Liang Jiashu didn’t answer, but he wasn’t done either. Next, he picked up a long strip of soft fabric, a semi-transparent satin trimmed with delicate black lace that looked like an eye mask.
Lowering his head, he gazed at Lu Chi’s upturned, wet, seductive eyes. After a moment, unable to resist, he brushed his fingers over Lu Chi’s eyelashes and murmured hoarsely: “Your eyes make me weak. If you look at me, I can’t be ruthless. I’ll lose all resolve.”
This time, Liang Jiashu sensed something was wrong, and he genuinely wanted an answer. Lu Chi smiled, tilting his head in a small, gentle movement against Liang Jiashu’s palm as he whispered: “You can bear to?”
“……”
Liang Jiashu fell silent, staring into those eyes, unmoving.
He clearly couldn’t.
Lu Chi burst into laughter, leaning against his shoulder, body shaking with mirth. After a while, he lifted his head again, and Liang Jiashu froze.
Lu Chi lowered his gaze. With his hands tied, he rested his face pitifully in Liang Jiashu’s palm, only to slowly extend a half-length of crimson tongue and gently bite the edge of the black satin.
Red and black overlapped.
In the sunset, Lu Chi kissed along the lace, nose brushing downward like a cat rubbing against a calloused palm.
Soft, wet warmth.
He then lifted his eyes, those upturned corners like hooks, lighting flames in Liang Jiashu’s chest.
He didn’t use any other nickname. He simply smiled and called him:
“Jiashu.”
Jiashu.
Two short syllables, gentle enough to be an illusion.
Liang Jiashu’s pupils contracted. Instinctively, he cupped Lu Chi’s face and kissed him hard. Their lips crashed together, biting, swallowing. His breath burned, all “patience” gone instantly.
Lu Chi let out a few muffled sounds, laughing through the violent kisses.
Then, panting lightly at his ear, he said: “Jiashu… don’t cover my eyes.”
With both his palm and his heart heated, Liang Jiashu swallowed hard. Then, he heard Lu Chi lick his own lips and whisper: “Tie it down there.”
If I don’t tell the truth, you can keep it tied to yourself forever.
His temples throbbed with desire. Liang Jiashu stared at him intensely, then calmly, hoarsely asked:
“Even if I ask you… What’s your real purpose?”
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