With both hands bound above his head, a gesture that seemed almost excessive given his half-paralyzed state. When his pants were roughly yanked down, Qiao Si couldn’t help but lift his gaze to the man standing before him.

Qiao Che merely contemptuously waved the underwear he had just stripped off him, then crumpled it into a ball and threw it at his feet. 

“Surprised?” he sneered. “Or have you forgotten what you did to me?”

Qiao Si remained silent, though his expression shifted subtly. Qiao Che forced his legs apart, propping a pillow beneath his lower back to elevate his hips, leaving him exposed and utterly defenseless.

Slipping on a pair of medical gloves, Qiao Che climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between the legs. His fingers probed roughly, brushing against the tight entrance with deliberate cruelty.

“So small,” he muttered, a cruel smirk twisting on his lips. “Could Duan Heng even fit in here? Or was he just… inadequate?” 

With a rough push, he forced a single finger inside, the motion devoid of any tenderness. When the resistance proved too much, he grabbed a bottle of ointment, scooped out a generous amount and slathered it over his fingers before adding two more.

His fingers twisted inside, and for a moment, Qiao Che seemed caught off guard by the sensation. His body tensed briefly before he clenched his jaw and sneered, “You really are shameless.”

Though the motion was anything but gentle, the cold air against Qiao Si’s exposed skin still drew an involuntary reaction from him.

Qiao Che toyed with him, watching as his lashes trembled against his pale cheeks. Seeing him clamp his eyes shut, he only pressed deeper and harder, his lips curling as he leaned in. “Does it feel good?”

Qiao Si was lightly slashed a few times on his chest, resembling a disemboweled person, and then subjected to such humiliation. He remained silent and unperturbed, only biting his lip as his fingers fidgeted wildly.

He was originally pale and sickly, but that bite forced a flush of red onto his lips, the only sign of life on his otherwise bloodless face.

“Do you want something even better?”

The words were light, almost teasing, but the intent behind them was unmistakable. Qiao Si couldn’t help but open his eyes.

The two locked eyes, and the atmosphere instantly felt like it had frozen. Qiao Che’s expression darkened, and he said bitterly, “I’m not here to make you feel good.”

Was there even a need to say this?

“Are you going to talk or not?”

Qiao Che flicked his fingers outward, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “Keep clenching your teeth, I’ll have to use the real deal on you.”

Qiao Si remained silent. Bound and forced into a position of complete submission, he had no choice but to endure whatever came next.

Qiao Che looked at him for a moment, suddenly feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger. “What are you thinking? Do you think I would come alone in person?”

“……”

“You wish. That would be too easy for you!”

He didn’t say anything or do anything, but Qiao Che’s face changed with inexplicable anger, and he said fiercely, “Of course, finding men willing to do the job isn’t simple. Finding those willing to do it for you—now that’s even harder. But don’t worry, I’ll definitely help you find someone to satisfy you. The more, the better, right?”

“……”

“Are you going to say it or not?”

The response was still a silent rejection. 

Qiao Che clicked his tongue, his patience worn thin. With an air of disgust, he grabbed the cloth he had used moments ago to wipe the blade clean. Without warning, he wrapped it over Qiao Si’s eyes, knotting it so tightly that pressure built behind his eyelids, making it difficult to breathe, let alone see.

Qiao Si heard the sound of his departure, and in the silent darkness, the smell of his own blood became increasingly distinct, his chest still faintly aching. 

Then came the sound of approaching footsteps, more than one person.

“If you want to change your mind, it’s still not too late.”

Qiao Si said nothing.

The first strike came swiftly—a slap that sent a sharp, ringing pain through his skull, scattering his thoughts and replacing them with a dull, persistent buzz. The second followed without pause, his ears filling with a static hum.

When he was penetrated, the pain was much more intense than the earlier fingers. The person moved with deep hatred, thrusting fiercely between his legs, pressing hard, and their fingers roughly digging into his buttocks.

Unable to move and subjected to humiliation, Qiao Si had never experienced such agony before.

Qiao Che said this was an eye for an eye. 

But how could it be the same? 

Back then, Qiao Si had truly loved him. His feelings for Qiao Che had been possessive, but never degrading; he couldn’t bear to let anyone else touch Qiao Che. 

But this was different.

The man above him had a sadistic streak. The more aroused he became, the more brutal he grew. Slaps rained down on him throughout the ordeal, sharp and relentless, until the ringing in his ears drowned out everything else, leaving his consciousness drifting in and out.

He could no longer tell how many had switched, nor when they had switched. Probably due to the numbness, the feeling of insertion was honestly pretty much the same.

Qiao Si trembled in pain, but he silently endured it. Qiao Che’s humiliation of him was of no use.

What kind of punishment could truly destroy him? 

They had yet to figure that out.

The torment ended earlier than expected, and the other party made no further moves. Qiao Si let himself relax in a daze. He didn’t have many chances to find peace, so he needed to seize the moment to rest both physically and mentally.

When he woke up, Qiao Si felt a sharp pain all over his body. He gritted his teeth, drawing in a slow breath. A thought flickered through his mind, but then decided it was better not to think about it. There was no use dwelling on it.

Fortunately, the disorientation in his head and the ringing in his ears were only temporary. At this point, he had regained clarity and could sense someone in the room, with faint rustling sounds.

After a while, Qiao Si opened his eyes and saw a face he didn’t want to see at the moment.

The young man’s eyes were bloodshot as he called out, “Fourth Master.”

Qiao Si took in his surroundings. His body had been cleaned and the sheets had changed. He wasn’t lying in a heap of filth for people to gawk at. 

This was truly beyond his expectations. Someone even cleaned up the scene afterward; it seemed like someone was getting a bit too much of a free ride.

“Fourth Master.”

The young man’s voice sounded hoarse. Qiao Si remained silent, feeling the young man grip his hand tightly, then slightly tremble as he reached to touch his face.

“Fourth Master.”

This time, Qiao Si withdrew his hand.

He has fallen to this state, being trampled upon by others. Compared to the glorious days when he was above everyone else, it was almost laughable in its bleakness.

But he understood better than anyone—this was far from the worst it could get. If he couldn’t endure it now, the road ahead would only become more unbearable.

What unsettled him most was the thought of Duan Heng pitying him.

Duan Heng no longer forced himself to touch him, only standing at the bedside in silence, as if the weight of his sorrow kept him from speaking. In this wordless silence, the door opened from the outside, and in came the impeccably dressed Qiao Che.

Qiao Che had already changed into a new outfit, a loose thick coat, and extremely tailored casual pants. The collar and cuffs were turned out, revealing crisp white edges, a contrast that lent him the air of a disheveled yet refined aristocrat. His appearance made the dull gray look slightly disheveled and melancholic, yet his entire presence radiated a kind of unbothered ease, refreshed and unscathed.

In contrast, Duan Heng, whose shirt was even wrinkled, looked much more haggard.

Seeing him, Duan Heng stood up and said, “Qiao Che, make up your mind! What exactly are you trying to do?”

Qiao Che raised an eyebrow. “When did I ever go against it?”

The sorrow in Duan Heng’s face hardened into something colder. “You know it yourself. By treating him this way, are you not planning to take the agreement seriously?”

“We made it clear from the beginning,” Qiao Che said. “The benefits were to be split evenly, so no one would be left out. Now he’s refusing to give me my half of the money. How is he going to compensate me for that missing half?”

Duan Heng frowned, looked at the man on the bed, knowing that Qiao Si had heard everything, and seemed to be more cautious than Qiao Che when speaking, “It’s too early to draw conclusions on what Fourth Master intention is. Aren’t you being a bit hasty with all these?”

Qiao Che smiled and said, “I’m just anxious. You know I have no patience. Who knows what I might do in the future?”

“What do you want? Just say it.”

“If he really has no money, I will take a portion of the deposit for now. We can split the rest later. He won’t die right away anyway. What do you think?”

Duan Heng looked at him coldly: “Absolutely not.”

“He values money more than his own life, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Honestly, I don’t think he’s worth that much money. If you have the ability, then go ahead and deal with him yourself.”

Qiao Che originally came with great enthusiasm, probably thinking of some new method to torment Qiao Si and was eager to give it a try. But with Duan Heng stood there, his fury dousing any excitement in the room. 

After a while, he lost interest and left, leaving only the two of them in the room.

The young man sat by the bedside again, looking very troubled. When facing Qiao Si, he was nothing but a sad and helpless lost boy. He took Qiao Si’s hand and pressed it against his own face, lost in thought. “Fourth Master…”

“……”

“Fourth Master, just tell him. Wealth is just an external possession.”

Qiao Si remained indifferent.

“He won’t bother you anymore. Everything will be fine. I’ll take care of you and serve you from now on. Fourth Master, it’s my fault, I owe you an apology. But from now on, what I have is yours, and I won’t let you suffer any grievances. Fourth Master, we’ll be just like before…”

The future depicted sounded much better than the present where he suffered every day. But instead of feeling reassured, he only felt a faint nausea.

Those two truly made the perfect pair. Qiao Che played the bad cop, while Duan Heng played the good one. One tormented him, the other comforted him, switching roles seamlessly as they carried out their performance.

Once they had squeezed out the last of his worth, they would be satisfied.

Yet, ironically, life did become easier. Perhaps the two had reached a consensus; since the hard approach wasn’t very effective, they decided to use a softer approach for now. 

Surveillance remained tight, but at least Qiao Che no longer harassed him. Instead, the one who came to see him was Duan Heng.

Duan Heng always seemed exhausted. He never stayed long. When he visited, he would just sit by the bed and peel fruit for him.

Qiao Si never ate nor spoke. The young man would only look a little sad but would still return the next day, continuing peeling fruit again.

During his hospital stay, Qiao Si’s upper body had mostly recovered, but his legs showed no signs of improvement. According to Qiao Che, this was not important; after all, no one needed his legs, so there was no reason to linger in the hospital.

Duan Heng’s stance was softer. No matter how luxurious the ward was, a hospital was no place to stay long-term. It would be better to recover at home.

In this atmosphere of gentle concern, Qiao Si completed the discharge procedures and left the hospital.

The person picking him up was none other than Duan Heng. 

Qiao Si sat in a wheelchair, surrounded by attendants as he left the hospital. It was a rainy day. Some held up umbrellas, while others pushed the wheelchair, each carrying an air of authority.

Outside, appearances still had to be maintained. Especially since they never trusted him, even bodyguards served multiple roles.

When they reached the steps, Duan Heng bent down and lifted him out of the wheelchair.

Qiao Si let the young man carry him into the car without any discomfort, as if still accustomed to such treatment.

The car door closed, and Duan Heng sat with him in the back seat, holding him close. “Fourth Master, we’re going home.”

Back at Qiao Si’s villa—though by now, it had likely become Duan Heng’s property. But as he walked in, most of what I saw hadn’t changed; everything was still in its old form. The furnishings hadn’t been replaced, only the servants had been replaced by unfamiliar faces.

This place was no longer what it used to be.

A faint sorrow crept into Qiao Si.

Duan Heng carried him all the way upstairs. The young man was still tall and handsome, his strong arms passing under his underarms and around his legs, holding him effortlessly. Yet despite his ease, he was cautious, as if afraid of causing him the slightest pain.

Qiao Si could smell the faint scent mixed with the rain, a scent he was familiar with. Just not long ago, being held like this had once left him enchanted. But now, that feeling could never return.

They entered what used to be Qiao Si’s own bedroom, placed him on the edge of the bed, made him sit, and took off the fur coat that kept him warm. Although once the coat was removed, Qiao Si seemed to shrink a bit, his gaunt and pale features fully revealed.

“Fourth Master, you rest here for a bit. We’ll go down for dinner later.”

Qiao Si ignored him, and the young man, accustomed to his good temper, kneeled down to take off his shoes.

His feet rested in the young man’s hands. 

It had been so long since he had walked that he had nearly forgotten they existed. Duan Heng must have felt how cold they were because he held them in his palms for a while, trying to warm them. Then he looked up.

Their eyes met. Once upon a time, even the slightest touch to his feet would have made Qiao Si unbearably sensitive. 

Now, he felt nothing.

He gazed at the young man’s face for a moment before lowering his lashes, breaking their eye contact.

Losing sight of him, Duan Heng quietly stood, propped him against the headboard, and tucked his legs under the blanket. But instead of leaving, he sat down at the edge of the bed.

“Fourth Master…”

“……”

“I know you blame me… hate me.”

“……”

“But now, you belong to me.”

Qiao Si looked at the young man with slight surprise. The young man lifted the blanket, then sat on the bed and pulled him onto his lap.

Qiao Si was somewhat taken aback, but didn’t struggle. Having to lose his authority and with his legs, any fierce resistance he might attempt in front of these people would be futile. Moreover, he had always valued his strength.

Duan Heng held him as if he were a cherished doll, looking at him closely for a while, almost touching noses, and then pressed a kiss on his lips.

Qiao Si kept his mouth closed. But Duan Heng was never one to be denied—he pinched his chin, forcing his jaw open, and slipped his tongue inside.

Such a deep, silent kiss was truly passionate. By the time their lips parted, Qiao Si could feel something pressing hard against his abdomen.

It was still daytime, and the curtains were still open, but Duan Heng was clearly intent on kissing along the curve of his ear, down his neck, and traced his jaw. His hand slipped beneath his clothes, and the moment the fabric was pulled away, Qiao Si’s arms were caught in the sleeves, momentarily trapping them behind his back.

Duan Heng kissed every scar on his body and rubbed him back and forth inside his pants.

“Fourth Master…”

Shivering was purely a physiological instinct, an involuntary shudder as his front was stroked into a hard and wet state. Taking off his pants was far more troublesome than usual—until, in the end, they were simply torn away. 

Qiao Si sat astride the young man’s waist, bare from the waist down, his entire body rigid in anticipation of what was to come.

“I won’t hurt you.”

It seemed unnecessary to resist, and there was no room for resistance. The lubrication was so well done that there was only pleasure during the insertion. The feeling of being completely filled was somewhat unbearable. 

Qiao Si gasped, feeling the young man begin to thrust. He closed his eyes, unable to suppress the moans that escaped his lips. As his cries grew louder, the young man gripped his waist, thrusting with renewed vigor, punctuating each motion with deep and hungry kisses.

Qiao Si’s body glistened with sweat, a testament to the raw pleasure of their intimacy.

The young man’s possessive demeanor was fierce and impatient, but not violent. From the first thrust, every movement was deliberate, a gentle yet rough rhythm that brought him a long-lost pleasure, almost left him dizzy.

The climax was approaching, both of them were already drenched in sweat. Duan Heng almost ferociously pinned him at the waist, making him moan deeply from his throat with each movement. Qiao Si could hear his heartbeat pounded in his ears, a kaleidoscope of light and color exploding behind his eyelids. When the peak finally hit, his whole body trembled, convulsing as if leaving the young man’s abdomen completely damp.

“Fourth Master…”

He collapsed weakly onto the young man’s chest, not bothering to hide his own frailty. Duan Heng embraced him, kissing his ears and cheeks, both his arms and lips expressed a tenderness that bordered on fervor.

“Fourth Master…”

Qiao Si trembled all over. Pleasure was its own kind of torment, far crueler than pain.

Duan Heng helped him clean up, letting him rest in a hazy state of half-sleep before finally carrying him downstairs for dinner.

Dinner, by Qiao Si’s picky standards, could be considered quite lavish, but he couldn’t eat it in peace, and the flavors were hard to distinguish. Duan Heng kept him close, refusing to let go, feeding him bite by bite as though he were incapable of eating on his own.

He had eaten like this before, but back then, it had been out of respect. Now, it was nothing more than indulgent feeding.

As he fed him, Duan Heng leaned in to kiss him, lingering touches, a sweet, almost childlike affection, like a little girl with her beloved doll. Qiao Si, caught in the swirling mix of flavors and the warmth of Duan Heng’s lips, lost all track of what he was actually eating.

They never finished dinner. Before long, Duan Heng had him on the dining table as their desire overcame restraint. Duan Heng was in a posture of not suppressing his hunger, and Qiao Si went along with him. The young man pinned him down on the table and stripped off the pants he had just put on not long ago.

This time, there’s no need for prolonged foreplay; it went in easily.

The feeling of being toyed with anytime and anywhere was surprisingly arousing. The young man breathed heavily and moved rhythmically, and the sweat dripped onto Qiao Si’s skin burned like fire.

After copulating at the table, hunger had long been replaced by something else entirely, so they headed straight back to the room.

Duan Heng carried him to the bathroom, gently washing away the remnants of their passion. During the cleansing process, his fingers inevitably explored the still-sensitive depths, ensuring thoroughness. Yet, as his fingers withdrew, the lingering warmth proved too tempting, and he couldn’t resist the urge to surge back into Qiao Si.

Qiao Si could only gasp and moan, surrendering to the young man’s relentless thrust into him in every possible way in the water. The splashing water and steam did nothing to cool the fever of the young man in the end. When it was still not enough, Duan Heng carried him back to bed, kissing him from head to toe before penetrating into him once more.

The night was extremely chaotic and intoxicating, a stark contrast to the preceding days, like a sudden ascension from hell to heaven. Qiao Si didn’t think about what any of it meant. He liked the young man’s body, and if nothing else, he could just treat it as a kind of enjoyment.

When morning came, Duan Heng was in a rare good mood. He lingered on Qiao Si, gave him a kiss, and then finally got out of bed.

With Qiao Si’s limited mobility, even brushing his teeth and washing his face required Duan Heng’s assistance. When he needed to urinate, the young man held him close, steadying him in an embrace as humiliating as cradling a newborn. 

At times like this, the feeling of his own disability became vivid, and Qiao Si couldn’t help but darken his expression.

Duan Heng used one hand to help him clean up, saying, “It’s alright, Fourth Master. I’m here for you.”

After breakfast, when Duan Heng was preparing to leave, he paused to look at Qiao Si. “If you ever feel bored at home, let me know what you like, and I’ll buy it for you.”

Qiao Si naturally wouldn’t pay attention to him. The young man waited for a while without any response, and then left somewhat dejectedly.

That evening, he returned in high spirits, carrying a rather large birdcage. Inside perched a large parrot, pure white with striking blue-ringed eyes. It was an energetic creature, its gaze sharp and inquisitive as it studied its surroundings.

Qiao Si frowned as he watched Duan Heng place the cage in front of him.

“Isn’t it cute? It’s very smart and can talk. The boss said he’s never seen a blue-eyed cockatoo with such a big vocabulary.”

Qiao Si was utterly disinterested and showed no appreciation. Although his hobbies were somewhat old-fashioned, he had no patience for tending flowers or parading birds in the courtyard like an idle retiree. He especially disliked parrots that did nothing but squawk “hello” or repeat inane phrases like “wishing you prosperity.”

Duan Heng remained patient, teasing the bird for a while. The parrot, adjusting quickly to its new home, wasn’t afraid of people and didn’t seem sleepy, just curiously looking around everywhere. It looked around curiously before puffing out its chest and calling out in a clear, piercing voice, “Fourth Master! Fourth Master!”

The sound was incredibly loud, as if a person was speaking, unexpectedly startling Qiao Si, who couldn’t help but frown and say, “Get this damn bird away from me.”

Since that night, it was the first time Qiao Si had spoken to Duan Heng. The young man seemed to suddenly become happy, but the words themselves were hardly pleasant, and he lingered between happiness and disappointment for a moment. 

Before he could speak, the parrot cheerfully said, “Darling! Darling!”

Qiao Si felt a shiver run down his spine as his annoyance deepened. “Get rid of it.”

The young man had no choice but to take the large cage outside. But the parrot was already brimming with energy, chattering away happily and incessantly. The voice was so loud that it could still be heard from a distance.

When Duan Heng returned, there was an air of awkwardness between them. Qiao Si knew he was trying to please him, but such shallow attempts at flattery were meaningless. Over the years, he had seen every form of ingratiation, and it had long since lost its effect.

“If Fourth Master doesn’t like birds,” Duan Heng murmured. “Then what should I find to keep you company?”

Although he has a wheelchair, the servants in this house can only be ordered around but won’t talk to him. Going downstairs was inconvenient, and stepping outside was impossible. Moving from the hospital to here was just exchanging one larger cage for another, confinement and surveillance.

Until they had wrung him dry, personal freedom was out of the question.

“How about a dog, Fourth Master? Do you like dogs? They’re very obedient, loyal, clingy, and can keep you company…”

“No need,” Qiao Si finally glanced at him, “I raised one once, and it bit me, so I’m scared.”

Duan Heng’s face flushed, and he didn’t say anything. After a moment of silence, he finally said, “I’ll go run some hot water for you. Take a bath and get some rest.”

After washing up and lying in bed, naturally, Qiao Si allowed Duan Heng to have his way with him again. He didn’t particularly mind it; he just wanted to see how long Duan Heng’s interest would last. After all, tending to someone with mobility issues was far less appealing than before.

However, that night, it felt as if Duan Heng had taken an aphrodisiac, removing his pants and unable to stop, switching positions and thrusting relentlessly until Qiao Si’s moans filled the air.

It was midnight when they finally stopped, both of them were drenched in sweat, Both of them were drenched in sweat, panting, utterly spent. Qiao Si lay sprawled atop Duan Heng, too exhausted to lift himself, too lazy to try. The man was still buried inside him, yet he lacked the strength to pull away.

Duan Heng held him tightly; logically, this should have been a moment of satisfaction, but there was an unshakable gloom in his embrace. Slowly, he buried his face against Qiao Si’s neck and murmured, “Fourth Master…”

Qiao Si finally closed his eyes.

The parrot, with two big blue circles around its eyes, had been around for several days. Although Qiao Si had never treated it well, Duan Heng still brought it into his room every morning before leaving, hoping it would keep him company.

Its foolish appearance made it impossible to see any trace of intelligence, which only worsened his displeasure. However, it was particularly energetic and full of vigor, after eating and drinking, it would frantically chew on toys with frenzied enthusiasm, never satisfied. It had an eager look, as if waiting for Qiao Si to come and play with it, walking back and forth on the shelf, swaying left and right with all sorts of charming gestures.

Qiao Si naturally still couldn’t be bothered with it, just like he couldn’t be bothered with Duan Heng. 

This blue-eyed cockatoo was, at the very least, well-trained. If no one paid it any attention, it would amuse itself by chewing its toys or chattering endlessly.

Qiao Si listened to its nonsensical chatter, the voice so loud that it was like a child incessantly making noise in the room, disturbing him so much that he couldn’t concentrate on thinking or doing his work. 

Irritated, Qiao Si snapped, “Shut up.”

The parrot immediately fell silent. It stood still for a moment before tilting its head and mimicking a familiar voice, “Fourth Master. Fourth Master.”

Qiao Si’s gaze darkened.

The bird repeated, “Fourth Master, Fourth Master.”

After a while, as if influenced by the music on TV, the parrot became lively again, as if it wanted to dance. “I love you! I love you!”

Qiao Si glanced at it, and although the bird wasn’t human, it seemed to sense a bit of hostility and wilted again, timidly staying on the perch: “Sincerely. Sincerely.”

His expression turned even colder as he wheeled himself closer.

That day, Duan Heng came back relatively early than usual and even brought a box of freshly made pastries. Upon entering the room, he immediately saw the empty cage and couldn’t help but ask, “Fourth Master, where’s the parrot?”

Qiao Si said nonchalantly, “Burn it. Ate it.”

Duan Heng froze.

He remained silent for a long time, and then sat down beside, lost in thought.

“Fourth Master…”

The sorrow on the young man’s face went unnoticed by Qiao Si. The room fell into a complete silence. Then, another voice spoke, “Fourth Master! Fourth Master!”

This time, it wasn’t Duan Heng speaking. A white bird flapped its wings and flew back in through the window, flapping around the room excitedly. “Fourth Master! Fourth Master!”

Duan Heng was taken aback for a moment, then smiled. 

Qiao Si, for some reason, found himself thinking of the phrase “breaking into a smile through tears,” then “a smile like a blooming flower.”

The parrot settled onto its perch. Duan Heng walked over, bent down, and wrapped his arms around Qiao Si from behind.

This time, it was only an embrace—nothing more. He rested his forehead lightly against Qiao Si’s hair and remained still for a long while. The sunset streamed through the window, casting two shadows of different heights on the wall.

After dinner, Duan Heng carried him out to the balcony, letting him sit on his lap as he held him close. 

Qiao Si’s house had a good location, one of the few places in the city where you could see a sky full of stars. Even though the owner had changed, the sky remained as beautiful as ever.

“Fourth Master, will you stay with me like this?”

“……”

“I will compensate you.”

Qiao Si had lost everything; his authority, his wealth, his legs, and in return, all he had was this. 

He stared up at the night sky. “How do you plan to compensate me?”

“Fourth Master, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Qiao Si chuckled, “Everything you have now, didn’t you get it all from me?”

The young man fell silent for a moment at such mockery. A trace of shame flickered across his face. Then all of a sudden, he hugged Qiao Si tightly and said firmly, “I will have more in the future, and I will repay you.”

Qiao Si found it somewhat amusing. “If you want to take it, just take it. Why bother mentioning repayment?”

“Fourth Master…”

“I don’t blame you for being greedy, I’m just angry that you have no conscience.”

The young man slightly flushed, biting his lip for a moment.

“You’ve been with me for so many years. Have I ever been stingy with you? Have I ever refused you anything you asked for? Whether indoor or outdoor, have I ever treated you poorly? I’ve raised you to this age, and this is how you repay me?”

Duan Heng’s gaze met his, a hint of red tinting the corners of his eyes. “I want you.”

“……”

“It’s you who didn’t give it to me.”

The kisses that followed took on a more rough and crude meaning, and Qiao Si’s tongue was bitten until it hurt. Duan Heng didn’t forcefully strip him bare, leaving his shirt open, which was a form of modesty in its own way.

The coolness of the night and the dampness carried by the night breeze seemed to be driven away by the fiery passion. The young man fervently focused on exploring his body, first kneading his buttocks, his kisses leaving a trail of marks across his chest and waist, moaning and struggling endlessly. Finally, with a forceful thrust, he entered Qiao Si.

During their unrestrained intimacy, the night’s coolness was forgotten, replaced by a consuming heat. Sweat glistened on their intertwined bodies, every inch of skin slick and burning, the point of their union a fiery inferno. Their shared animalistic pleasure, exposed to the open air, created a palpable heat that surrounded them both.

Duan Heng indulged himself without restraint, taking his pleasure without thought.

By the next morning, Qiao Si had fallen ill.

A chill had settled into his bones, his head burned with fever, and he lay there, too weak to rise.

His constitution had never been strong. In the past, even as he indulged in excess, he had always taken care to nourish himself, maintaining a delicate balance that kept his body from failing him. But now, after enduring relentless torment, still recovering from a grave illness, and being subjected to nights of ceaseless violation—left bare, exposed to the cold wind until dawn—his body had finally given out.

It would have been a miracle if he had not fallen sick.

Once he fell sick, it became an endless cycle. The injections and medicine worked quickly, but just as the fever subsided, his stomach went bad again. When his stomach finally showed signs of improvement, his cough worsened, and then his headache flared up. 

It was as if he were a tattered old tire—patched up on one side, only to split on the other.

The household began brewing traditional medicine for him again, feeding it to him one bitter dose at a time. But the more he drank, the worse his appetite became. Some days, he would go without eating entirely. For several consecutive days, he just lay in bed, a sickly yellow hue replacing his once-pristine complexion.

The parrot had long been taken away. Though it had been fond of Qiao Si, its constant chatter was unbearable for a patient.

Whenever Duan Heng found the time, he remained by Qiao Si’s bedside, offering him tea, fetching him water, and carrying him to the bathroom with practiced care. Yet, time was a luxury he couldn’t often spare. More often than not, Qiao Si was left to languish alone, confined to his sickbed with only silence for company.

There are plenty of servants at home; it’s just that whether they serve well or not depends on whether they understood the person they were serving.

Qiao Si had never liked putting in extra effort to explain his preferences and needs to others. In the past, everyone around him would know what he wanted as soon as he raised an eyebrow, and they would bring it to him immediately. Now, these new servants couldn’t even understand whether he wanted water or if the room was too warm.

Falling ill only made Qiao Si more unwilling to speak. He found them clumsy, irritating, and utterly useless. Communicating felt like a waste of effort. He would rather endure cracked lips than call them up to fumble around needlessly. The thought of letting these strangers handle his most basic needs repulsed him, so he forced himself to struggle onto the wheelchair and make his own way to the bathroom.

Moving from the bed to the wheelchair, and from the wheelchair to the toilet, all relied on the strength of his arms. But his illness left his hands trembling, his waist unsteady; even urination drained him to the point of breaking out in a cold sweat, his body nearly collapsing from sheer exhaustion. So he simply stopped drinking much water altogether, and his condition deteriorated even further.

His stubborn temper unsettled Duan Heng, leaving him at a complete loss. Watching Qiao Si’s worsening mood and declining health, his aversion to food and disdain for the servants, it was as if he had simply resigned himself to wasting away. The sight of him, so frail and withdrawn, gnawed at Duan Heng’s nerves—so much so that even holding him at night, he found himself unable to sleep.

That day, Qiao Si took his medicine, but his head was still pounding, and body was also prone to pain. He was frowning and lying lifelessly on the bed when Duan Heng came in, quietly sat down by his bed, and took his hand. “Fourth Master, I’ve brought someone to take care of you.”

Qiao Si didn’t respond, not even showing the spirit to acknowledge. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice tremblingly called, “Fourth Master.”

Qiao Si opened his eyes. The man standing at the door had more weariness on his face than before, and his weight loss even made him look older. It was Qiao Bo.

“Fourth Master…”

Everyone knew that Qiao Bo had been Qiao Si’s most trusted confidant for years, which made him the most feared by those in power. The moment he had spoken in front of them, he had been sent far away, kept at a distance.

Qiao Si hadn’t seen him for a long time, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say “life or death was uncertain.” Seeing him again at this moment, Qiao Bo nearly choked up. Even Qiao Si, who seldom revealed his feelings, was momentarily moved. A rare hint of color returned to his face.

Duan Heng brushed his fingers through Qiao Si’s hair, placed a kiss on his forehead, then turned to Qiao Bo. “Take care of Fourth Master, I’ll go check on his medicine.”

Of all the trusted aides Qiao Si had once surrounded himself with, Qiao Bo was the most attentive. He had always been fluent in his every preference, a seamless extension of his will. Qiao Bo was more than just a caretaker; he was Qiao Si’s unspoken voice, able to command the servants with a precision no one else could match.

With a loyal servant managing affairs by his side for many years, Qiao Si had more moments of contentment, and naturally, his spirits improved.

As his strength returned, he started getting out of bed, even willing to walk downstairs to sit in the garden for a while. His spirits lifted, and with that, the parrot was let out once more to liven up the atmosphere.

Though Qiao Si never showed much interest in it, the bird remained as devoted as ever, constantly seeking his attention, fluttering close with exaggerated expressions. If it was met with indifference, it would sulk for a while, head drooping as it stole glances at him from the corner of its eye. But it wouldn’t take long before it would be back again, chirping and fluttering with undying enthusiasm, pestering him until he could no longer hold his ground.

Defiance was, after all, in the very nature of these birds. As long as they were not abused, even the firmest refusal will not work on them. Their intelligence was sufficient to find ways to make humans compromise. However, this anthropomorphized gesture was beginning to overwhelm even Qiao Si.

Especially in the morning, this parrot would try to fly to Qiao Si’s bedside and “wake” him to get up. With boundless tenderness, it would preen his hair with its beak, gaze at him with deep affection, and scatter feather dust all over him in the process.

Qiao Si disappeared for a few minutes, and when they met again, it would greet him with the fervor of a long-lost reunion. “Ah! Fourth Master! Fourth Master!”

The day it learned to press its beak to his lips in an attempt to “kiss” him, Qiao Si finally lost his patience. He finally understood with irritation where it had picked up all these bad habits from. 

Like owner, like pet.

As the owner of a parrot that enjoyed “kissing,” Duan Heng felt somewhat embarrassed. He scooped the bird up and returned it to its cage, but even as the door clicked shut, it remained as ardent as ever, calling out, “Fourth Master! Fourth Master!” 

Even without saying it outright, everyone could see the bond between the bird and its owner, and they wisely stepped aside to give the two of them some space.

Since Qiao Si had fallen ill, the young man hasn’t been intimate with him again. Every movement around him had been careful, every interaction measured—he even kept a deliberate distance to avoid letting things spiral out of control.

Without the entanglement of physical intimacy, and neither speaking of the past, their relationship suddenly became pure and clean.

Whenever the parrot babbles some embarrassing endearment, the young man would fumble with an almost bashful and flustered demeanor, as if he were in love for the first time. 

Neither of them spoke of it. 

Instead, they just interact with a sense of propriety, as if they had just met for the very first time.

A delicate sweetness took root in the quiet shadows between them, fragile as ivy creeping along an unseen wall—uncertain, unspoken, yet impossible to ignore.