Pretend to be crazy

The intent was too obvious, making Shen Yan laugh out of sheer anger.

Ungrateful, pushing his luck!

Absolutely not happening!

He decisively said, “No, let go.”

Ruan Zhixian obediently let go, then leaned in again to kiss him. Shen Yan tried to get up to dodge, but Ruan Zhixian grabbed his collar and yanked him back into the seat.

God knows what this guy grew up eating — he was as strong as a tractor. Shen Yan had no power to resist. He turned his head, trying to avoid the kisses, but Ruan Zhixian’s lips caught up with him relentlessly, licking and nibbling at his lips.

“Ruan Zhixian… you, mmph… stop…”

Amid the wet sucking and sticky kissing sounds, Shen Yan whimpered a few words, face flushed, seizing a gap to quickly cover Ruan Zhixian’s mouth.

Being stopped, Ruan Zhixian didn’t show much expression — just stared straight at him.

The palm of Shen Yan’s hand soon felt slick and wet. Ruan Zhixian’s strong tongue pushed against his palm, his black eyes narrowing slightly, a sea of desire swirling inside them.

Shen Yan reflexively loosened his hand. Ruan Zhixian immediately leaned in again, scaring him into hurriedly whispering, “Fine! Fine, fine! Just stop fucking kissing me!”

Ruan Zhixian’s gaze fell on Shen Yan’s swollen, glistening lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then his eyes traveled up to meet Shen Yan’s.

“I’ll go with you. Take me.”

Shen Yan cursed internally, pulled on a mask, sunglasses, and hat, and dragged the shameless bastard away by the brim of his hat.

If they didn’t leave now, he was afraid Ruan Zhixian would go insane and do something crazy right there at the airport.

Clenching his fists hard, Shen Yan thought about the nearby onlookers who had blushed and hurriedly moved away after seeing them kiss. His steps quickened.

—

The airport was remote. Seeing that Ruan Zhixian didn’t seem about to lose control and misbehave in public, Shen Yan relaxed a little and even had some sneaky thoughts — he deliberately picked a public transportation option that was crowded and slow.

The more people, the slower the ride — by the time they reached the hotel, Ruan Zhixian would’ve calmed down. Then they could just chat, eat, play some games, and tire him out until he only wanted to sleep.

Perfect plan.

If he didn’t bring it up again, and Ruan Zhixian’s excitement cooled off, maybe his suppressed homophobia would resurface and neutralize the earlier surge of lust. This whole mess could just quietly blow over.

Shen Yan was very gentle along the way, accommodating his every request. For some reason, Ruan Zhixian was ridiculously clingy — at first just holding his wrist, then pulling their hands together, fingers tightly interlocked.

Gripping it deathly tight.

Shen Yan’s heart was uneasy, but he kept giving himself pep talks, pretending not to care.

After entering the hotel, he tried to chat about how he’d faked his death back then, fishing for conversation to distract him.

But Ruan Zhixian wasn’t buying it — he slammed the door, pinned him against it, and started kissing him again.

Only then did Shen Yan realize: Ruan Zhixian did have shame — he had only held back at the airport out of courtesy.

It had been a long time, and he had forgotten how aggressive he could be. He was kissed until he could barely breathe, his tongue going numb under the relentless sucking — only then did memories of his past overwhelmed and desperate experiences resurface.

He went limp all over, panting heavily. He was shocked at how responsive his own body was — even the thick winter pants couldn’t completely hide it.

Pressed so close, the heat and…other feelings were impossible to ignore.

Shen Yan’s breathing faltered. Ruan Zhixian, still unsatisfied, licked his eyelashes until they were wet like he had just cried, then pulled Shen Yan’s hand lower.

“Bro, it says it misses you very much.”

Ruan Zhixian was a damn chatterbox too, not just full of dirty talk but also constantly quizzing him like a teacher — asking reading comprehension questions, making him write essays, even throwing in random trivia about biology, geography, and mental health.

Poor Shen Yan, his only student, was forced to answer everything, while Ruan Zhixian giggled and teased:

“Bro, it’s so thick — what is it?”

Spreading the fresh stuff onto Shen Yan’s back, making a glossy layer under the lights, even taking pictures of it to show the embarrassed Shen Yan.

“Bro, why isn’t it white?” 

When Shen Yan didn’t answer, he held the drooping “little Shen Yan” and continued:

“Bro, is there more?”

“Last time, I made you come seven times. This is only the second time. How many times do you want today?”

Shen Yan couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, snarling:

“Want my ass! Ruan Zhixian, you fucking dare bring it up again? Get lost!”

Honestly, Shen Yan wasn’t even that mad. If not for that one time Ruan Zhixian had intervened, he might not have escaped the cult mess so easily. He had been pissed for a couple of days, but now he didn’t really feel anything anymore.

He just used it as an excuse to vent.

He’d agreed to Ruan Zhixian’s crazy airport proposition when his brain was fried — real men keep their word — but now he was seriously overloaded, “charging cables” repeatedly connecting to the “socket” until the “battery” was absurdly, explosively full.

Propped up and pretending to be mad, he lazily said:

“Forget it, Ruan Zhixian. Boring now.”

Ruan Zhixian grinned, grabbed his ankle and dragged him back, wrapping his arms around him, pressing him down, and gently kissing the burning corners of his eyes:

“Saying that… just means you doesn’t want to teach.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll find the answers myself.”

Having the roles suddenly reversed made Shen Yan want to scream.

He wasn’t the teacher, dammit!

Ruan Zhixian wanted to shower together.

Shen Yan refused.

Ruan Zhixian, to his credit, respected the boundary.

Shen Yan set the water deliberately hot, letting it run down his body, washing away everything.

Once he was clean, he sighed long and hard, turned toward the fogged-up mirror, and wiped it clear — only to immediately regret it.

If ten hours ago he was a young deer, now he was a spotted deer — and those weren’t bruises you could easily cover up.

He still had a tongue ring — number three — and Ruan Zhixian clearly hadn’t obeyed the “don’t kiss randomly” rule.

The tongue ring couldn’t just be removed — it required permission, otherwise, it would release poison. If you wanted it gone without approval, you’d have to cut off your tongue.

Not necessary yet. Not at that point.

The bathtub filled. Shen Yan slid under the water, submerging completely. The world went silent. His body ached faintly but wasn’t tired — instead, it felt incredibly light.

This probably wasn’t normal.

Holding his breath until he had to surface, he pushed his wet hair back and lazily leaned against the edge of the tub. He didn’t feel like getting out yet, so he turned on the bathroom TV.

Still in District 13, so it was all local news.

Lucky coincidence — the first thing he saw was Falson.

“Fraud amounting to 380 million — fraudster captured today. We’re live with special correspondent… Hello, Zhang reporter.”

Shen Yan was getting sleepy, soaking in the tub. He shouted for Ruan Zhixian to bring him some fruit.

The District 7 reporters were professional — with high-quality equipment and frontline access. After a brief intro, the camera zoomed in on Falson, flanked by two hulking guards.

His appearance had changed again — taller, sharper features replacing the soft boyish look, finally resembling a proper adult.

Short pale blond hair fell across his forehead. He didn’t cry or panic — just stared at the camera, tiny lights flickering in his eyes.

Shen Yan heard the reporter inhale sharply, voice softening:

“Mr. Falson, facing seventy years of imprisonment, do you regret your actions?”

Falson’s face stayed blank, a single tear falling.

Softly, he said:

“I regret it.”

“I’ve shamed my mother.”

“He wouldn’t want to see me again.”

Shen Yan: “…”

At that moment, Ruan Zhixian came in — not only carrying neatly sliced fruit but also a small stool to sit beside the tub.

Clearly not planning to leave.

Shen Yan glanced at him. When Ruan Zhixian fed him fruit, he accepted it, refocusing on the broadcast.

The reporter asked a few more questions, subtly trying to coax Falson into saying something even more pitiful to gain sympathy and a chance for sentence reduction.

Falson just stayed silent, head down, looking genuinely crushed and helpless between the towering guards.

It made people feel an overwhelming surge of pity.

Shen Yan inhaled sharply and changed the channel.

Ruan Zhixian chuckled softly beside him.

Shen Yan asked: “You set him up?”

“Sort of.” Ruan Zhixian lazily stirred the bathwater and said, “I told him you got kidnapped, needed ransom. He went and scammed for you, dove into danger for you.”

“Today I told him you died a horrible death in the cult. He panicked — kept asking where you were, what happened — but since you told me to leave them out of it, I didn’t say a word.”

“He got desperate. Made mistakes.”

Drying his hands slowly, Ruan Zhixian fed another piece of apple to him, who ate it without expression.

“Bro, he really loves you.” Ruan Zhixian tilted his head slightly, smiling softly:

“Want to go save him?”