Shen Li’s lips trembled as he took a few deep breaths, he then pulled out a pack of thin cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket—delicate, feminine cigarettes. With a snap, he lit one, holding it between his slender fingers. He took a puff, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I don’t want to go back; they’re all just waiting to see me make a fool of myself.”

Song Yi glanced at the cigarette in his hand, reached out, and skillfully broke it in half, tossing the pieces into a nearby trash can. Calmly, he said, “No one is laughing at you. They all like you; this isn’t a big deal.”

He had known Shen Li smoked back in school. It seemed like there was a lot of pressure from his family, and as a teenager, he often sought adult ways to cope with his problems.

This gesture struck a chord with Shen Li, leaving him speechless for several seconds. He obediently put the cigarette back in his pocket, his eyes reddened. “You know, when I want to smoke, they all light up for me. You’re the only one who won’t let me.”

Seeing him so upset made Song Yi uncomfortable as well. He spoke softly, “The people you meet outside are different from your old friends. They might not be insincere, but they’re often trying to please you. You need to learn to distinguish between them.”

Shen Li shook his head gently, wrapping his arms around Song Yi’s waist and resting his head against him. “They’re not like you. I know that very well.”

Song Yi noticed a bit of dampness on his collar. Given Shen Li’s situation, there was little he could do to comfort him. After thinking for a moment, he chuckled teasingly, “Are you really going to cry in my arms over another man?”

Shen Li paused, lifting his face. From this angle, he could see the prominent Adam’s apple, the slight lift of Song Yi’s jaw, his soft-looking lips, and the straight bridge of his nose.

In a swift motion, he leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Song Yi’s lips. Just as he was about to speak, a powerful beam of light from a distance illuminated his face. The high beams of the Bugatti were blinding, like a sun in the night, leaving Shen Li unable to open his eyes for several seconds.

When he finally managed to see, he felt someone grip his collar tightly. The force pulled him off balance, and he looked up to see Gu Xingchuan’s strikingly handsome face twisted into a sinister grin. The hand clutching his collar tightened, making it hard for Shen Li to breathe.

“Who told you to get hands-on?”

Shen Li was taken aback, fear coursing through him as he struggled to pry Gu Xingchuan’s hand away, gasping, “Let go of me!”

Song Yi was taken aback and quickly stepped forward, pulling on Gu Xingchuan’s arm to tug him back. “Let him go! Don’t act on impulse!”

Gu Xingchuan released Shen Li’s collar, his fingers threateningly tapping Shen Li’s face. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

His lingering feelings for Shen Li’s youthful infatuation held him back from resorting to violence. If it were someone else, he’d have broken their jaw on the spot.

In his eyes, he and Song Yi had slept together twice, which, rounding up, made Song Yi his. He considered him a piece of meat that he wouldn’t let anyone take away, Shen Li included.

Gu Xingchuan didn’t care how Song Yi felt about it; the matter was settled in his mind. Anyone who dared to challenge him would face the consequences.

Shen Li’s lips trembled uncontrollably, whether from anger or fear. He clenched his fists in rage, but with Gu Xingchuan standing there—tall and imposing, his sweatshirt barely concealing the powerful muscles beneath—he exuded an instinctual, primal threat like a prowling leopard.

Shen Li took a step back, gaining a bit of courage to say, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking either.”

Gu Xingchuan’s expression darkened as he glared at him, teeth clenched. “What’s it to you? Get lost!”

Shen Li glanced at the oblivious Song Yi and spoke softly, “I’m really upset today and just want you to stay with me. I don’t want to wait until another day. Is that okay?”

—