Zhou Qi, like performing a magic trick, suddenly produced some bruise ointment from who-knows-where. He grabbed Chu Wei’s wrist, and Chu Wei, reluctant, tried to pull his arm back. Zhou Qi spoke softly, “Don’t move. Let me apply the ointment.”

“I… I’m fine…” Chu Wei didn’t want to be touched by Zhou Qi.

“Be good. Your wrist is swollen—how can you say it’s fine?” Zhou Qi insistently applied the ointment with meticulous care, his brows furrowed in concern. “I won’t let that guy off the hook! Does it hurt badly, Weiwei? It’s so cold now—don’t set up a stall anymore. If you like doing business, I’ll get you a store instead.”

Li Wenshui silently watched them, clutching his bleeding, scraped hand. His skin below the eyes, once pale, was now swollen, bruised, and discolored. His torn coat let in the cold wind, and his fevered body alternated between chills and heat.

It had been a long time since he’d fought, and his opponent was taller, stronger, and packed a heavier punch. Li Wenshui couldn’t even recall how many times he’d been hit—he just knew that now, his entire body ached.

He lowered his gaze and rubbed his frostbitten, needle-pricked fingers. Then, feeling dejected, he turned to leave.

Chu Wei suddenly called out, “Wenshui, you’re hurt too. Why don’t you use some ointment?”

Zhou Qi immediately snatched the ointment from Chu Wei’s hand. “If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Why are you being so generous, giving him the ointment?”

Chu Wei defended, “If it weren’t for Wenshui, I wouldn’t have gotten my money back.”

“So what if you didn’t? It’s not worth getting beaten up over a bit of change. Your health is too fragile—don’t get involved with him in the future,” Zhou Qi said while gently rubbing Chu Wei’s wrist. “Besides, if you want money back, you can just tell me. I can settle it with a word. Next time something like this happens, protect yourself first, got it?”

Not a single word Zhou Qi said was what Li Wenshui wanted to hear. Chu Wei had someone to back him up and money to rely on. Of course, he didn’t have to do anything himself. But Li Wenshui had nothing. If he didn’t act, he wouldn’t get anything.

Li Wenshui glared at Zhou Qi, whose words only made him more annoyed. Zhou Qi caught his sharp look and suddenly felt a bit impressed by Liang Jin. Agreeing to this wager was no easy task. Sure, Li Wenshui was stunning, but his temper wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“Don’t go just yet. I called Liang Jin on the way here,” Zhou Qi said.

Hearing this, Li Wenshui’s mood worsened. He had already called Liang Jin in desperation, and Liang Jin hadn’t answered. Now Zhou Qi had called him—so what? Even if Liang Jin showed up, would it change anything? The pain in his body wouldn’t lessen. Nothing would change.

Li Wenshui shook his head and stumbled toward the bus stop. His fever was severe, his legs felt weak, and it seemed like he could collapse at any moment. Yet his back was stubborn, as if nothing could drag him back.

Chu Wei nudged Zhou Qi anxiously. “Wenshui has a cold. He’s been unwell all day. Call him back, please? I’m worried about him being alone.”

Hearing this, Zhou Qi had no choice but to step in, even if he didn’t want to deal with Li Wenshui’s stubbornness. He quickly caught up with him.

“Where are you going? Liang Jin will be here soon. If you leave, Chu Wei will just worry more,” Zhou Qi said.

Li Wenshui didn’t even look at him. He mustered all his strength to break free from Zhou Qi’s grip and continued walking forward.

Zhou Qi sighed in exasperation, cursing under his breath. “You’re so ungrateful! With a temper like yours, I don’t know how Liang Jin puts up with you! All of his lovers combined probably don’t have half your attitude!”

At those words, Li Wenshui suddenly stopped and turned to Zhou Qi. Everyone kept comparing him to Liang Jin’s past lovers. His voice, hoarse and broken, rang out:

“This is just who I am. I never begged him to put up with me!”

“…”

Seeing that Li Wenshui seemed ready to break up, Zhou Qi thought of the bet and decided it was better not to pour fuel on the fire. If he really provoked a breakup, he’d end up losing himself.

As the two remained at an impasse, a car pulled up in front of them. The door opened, and Liang Jin stepped out.

“You finally showed up,” Zhou Qi said. “I really can’t handle him.”

“Is Chu Wei alright?” Liang Jin asked.

Zhou Qi spread his hands. “Thanks to your guy here, even if he wasn’t hurt, he is now.”

Liang Jin shoved his hands in his pockets and finally, as if doing a favor, turned his head. His gaze landed casually on Li Wenshui’s face. His brows furrowed as he reached out to grasp Li Wenshui’s chin, carefully examining his injuries.

“How did you get hurt this badly?”

Li Wenshui turned his head away, staying silent, though his reddening eyes betrayed his emotions. Liang Jin’s arrival shattered his ability to hide his feelings of grievance and sadness.

Liang Jin’s hand brushed over Li Wenshui’s swollen face. The little liar looked pitiful now—his once-beautiful face marred, his clothes in tatters, shivering in the cold wind.

“I’ll take you home,” Liang Jin said, not bothering to ask for consent. He wrapped an arm around Li Wenshui’s waist and stuffed him into the car.

Inside the car’s warmth, Li Wenshui finally felt less cold, but his fingers remained stiff from being frozen for so long. Sniffling, he weakly hugged himself and curled up.

“Let me see your hands,” Liang Jin’s voice was much softer now.

Li Wenshui clenched his fists tightly and turned his head toward the window, refusing to speak.

Liang Jin had his ways. “If you won’t let me see, then we’re going to the hospital.”

At those words, Li Wenshui’s tightly clenched fists slowly relaxed. He turned his body slightly but still avoided looking at Liang Jin, squeezing out two hoarse words: “Don’t… want.”

“If your throat hurts, don’t talk,” Liang Jin said, taking Li Wenshui’s hands in his. His hands were colder than snow, with dried blood on the abrasions. Liang Jin asked softly, “Does it hurt?”

That simple question—“Does it hurt?”—was so ordinary, the kind of thing anyone might ask in this situation, yet it unleashed a torrent of pent-up grievances within Li Wenshui.

He was upset but spoke in a muffled voice, “Why didn’t you answer the phone?”

Liang Jin gently applied ointment to his hands. “My phone wasn’t with me at the time.”

“I think you were…” Every word Li Wenshui spoke strained his already sore throat, but he had to say it or it would eat at him. “Having fun with someone else, not caring about me.”

“How could that be?” Liang Jin said as he wrapped a bandage around Li Wenshui’s hand. His warm hands heated Li Wenshui’s icy ones. “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have come.”

Li Wenshui looked up at Liang Jin, meeting his gaze. Liang Jin wore that familiar, gentle expression, full of warmth and affection.

When Liang Jin was good to him, it was impossible to tell if it was genuine or not. If it were fake, Liang Jin wouldn’t have rushed from a hot spring resort to pick him up or bothered applying ointment—he could have simply ended things. But if it were real, then why had Liang Jin ignored him for so many days?

“Still mad?” Liang Jin cupped Li Wenshui’s face and kissed his cold lips. “Baby, let’s just put this behind us, alright?”

There was no explanation, no apology, just an expectation to let the matter drop.

After all, it wasn’t Liang Jin who had been wronged. Of course, he could casually brush off the incident with a lighthearted tone. Letting it go meant he wouldn’t even have to make the effort to comfort anyone. Liang Jin really knew how to take the easy way out.

Seeing that Li Wenshui remained silent, Liang Jin gazed into his eyes and said, “Being together should be a joyful thing, not a form of mutual torment. Life is short—don’t bring unnecessary unhappiness upon yourself.”

He gently brushed his thumb across the scratches on Li Wenshui’s face, his eyes softening into a slight curve. “Baby, most of the time, you make me happy.”

Liang Jin was willing to coax Li Wenshui not just because he wanted to win the bet but because he genuinely found joy in him. Part of that joy came from Li Wenshui’s perfect, beautiful appearance—his flawless face and body. Their physical chemistry was undeniable; Li Wenshui’s reactions during intimacy were particularly endearing. Another part came from the unpredictability of Li Wenshui’s behavior. Liang Jin enjoyed observing his responses to situations, like finding a stray cat and teasing it with a toy to see whether it would playfully paw at it or lash out with its claws. Even when the cat bared its claws, Liang Jin didn’t mind too much—at least, not yet.

Li Wenshui remained silent again. He could make Liang Jin happy, but could Liang Jin do the same for him?

Liang Jin touched Li Wenshui’s fevered forehead. “How about we go to the hospital?”

Li Wenshui shook his head.

“Then get some rest.” Liang Jin reclined the seat and draped a blanket over him.

Half-lying down, Li Wenshui gazed at Liang Jin. His body was now fully warmed up. Blinking his dry eyes, he turned to look out the window. It seemed that their last argument had blown over.

“Liang Jin,” Li Wenshui began. His sadness stemmed from the ambiguous relationships Liang Jin had with others. He wanted to let it go, but ever since realizing his feelings for Liang Jin, he couldn’t be so carefree. He didn’t want Liang Jin to maintain unclear ties with his exes. Even though he knew he wasn’t in a position to make demands, he still spoke up. “Can you stop being ambiguous with those people?”

Liang Jin, driving the car, didn’t expect the topic to circle back. Then again, he realized this was just Li Wenshui’s nature—impatient and a little clueless.

He glanced at Li Wenshui, who was looking at him nervously, expectantly, with both worry and the brewing anger of someone ready to explode. Liang Jin was certain that if he refused, Li Wenshui would immediately glare at him and demand to be let out of the car.

Liang Jin neither lied to placate him nor tried to deceive him. He spoke honestly: “Let me say this one last time—I’m not ambiguous with anyone. Since we’ve been together, you’re the only one by my side. The others are just friends or business connections.”

“Don’t overthink it. At least for the duration of our relationship, I won’t have anything ambiguous with anyone else.”

There was a hint of a promise in his words. Liang Jin’s tone didn’t sound insincere, but could someone as flirtatious as him truly have no ambiguous relationships?

Li Wenshui, in his innocence, asked, “Why?”

The car stopped at the alley entrance. Liang Jin leaned over to unfasten Li Wenshui’s seatbelt, his eyes nonchalant. “It’s troublesome. Just dealing with you is exhausting. You get jealous and give me attitude at the drop of a hat. If there were more people, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“I’ve told you before, life is about enjoying it, not getting entangled in trouble. Look at yourself—you’re always throwing yourself into messy situations. That’s why you’re often angry and emotionally unstable. Like today.”

And so began another lecture from Young Master Liang.

Li Wenshui retorted, “I need to make money to eat. A thousand yuan can do so many things for me. But you, a spoiled rich boy who everyone caters to, can just enjoy life however you want.”

The car door opened, and Liang Jin wrapped an arm around Li Wenshui as they got out. As he guided him home, he said, “If you keep thinking like that and don’t learn to avoid risks, you’ll never escape trouble.”

When they entered the house, it was the second time Liang Jin had been to Li Wenshui’s home. The last time wasn’t as bleak as it was now. Liang Jin noticed the old electric tricycle in the yard, still loaded with luggage that hadn’t been unpacked.

Li Wenshui curled up on the bed, his face unnaturally red. The room was freezing, and Liang Jin frowned. “Have you been living in this cold place for a month?”

Li Wenshui turned over and pulled the blanket tightly around him. “Yeah, just getting by.”

“You’re practically inviting a cold like this.” Liang Jin sighed, pulling the blanket off him and grabbing his arm. “Come stay at my place.”

Li Wenshui immediately refused. “I’m not going. Even though Xie Zhengqing is gone, I still won’t—”

“It’s not an apartment,” Liang Jin interrupted. “It’s my house.”

“A… mansion?”

“What else? How many homes could I possibly have?”

Li Wenshui was dumbfounded. Move into Liang Jin’s house? A three-story luxury villa? A villa so big it even had a room dedicated to wine?

Liang Jin wrapped his arm around Li Wenshui’s shoulders and pulled him along. “Don’t just stand there in a daze. Grab your luggage and come with me. I’m not staying here to freeze with you.”