Chapter 265: This Life—The Beginning (VI)

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Chapter 265: This Life—The Beginning (VI)

Shang Ke looked sleepily at the man standing in his living room with breakfast in his hands.

“Why are you here?” Shang Ke asked.

“To have breakfast with you.” Wei Xun lifted the beautifully wrapped food box. “And to cultivate our friendship.”

By ordinary standards, no one would consider cultivating a “friendship” with a powerful, freshly minted rapist—not even someone who chose not to call the police, seek revenge, or strangle him on sight. Yet Shang Ke knew that this man only ever forced himself on him, and Shang Ke happened to love him deeply. He had always been absurdly broad-minded about Wei Xun’s domineering, self-important ways: one man considered raping him a lifelong achievement, even without his memories, while the other regarded being raped by his lover as a romantic expression of devotion, because he remembered everything.

The conclusion was obvious: Wei Xun was not normal, and neither was Shang Ke.

Shang Ke sat on the sofa eating breakfast and thought, An old married couple no longer quite describes us. Should we call ourselves “generational adulterers” instead?

What a headache. How were they supposed to remain friends like this?

Other people exhausted themselves trying to make the person they liked fall in love with them. Shang Ke had to make the person he liked fall in love with him without letting outsiders discover that he was in love with him—developing the romance spiritually while keeping their bodies pure.

Seeing Shang Ke’s lowered brows and solemn silence, Wei Xun secretly concluded that his impulsiveness two days earlier had caused resentment.

“Is the food not to your taste?” Wei Xun broke the silence.

“As a breakfast,” Shang Ke evaluated it with grave precision, “the nutritional balance is inadequate. Sandwiches, buns, cheese, juice, ham, bacon, and eggs are all acidic foods. Too much of them can make the blood overly acidic and disturb the body’s acid-base balance. You should really add some vegetables and fruit.”

Wei Xun: “…” Who had bought this breakfast? He would flay them alive when he got back.

Shang Ke got up, fussed around in the kitchen for a while, and returned with a brightly colored fruit platter and two cups of hot oatmeal.

“Now it’s perfect.” The hair over Shang Ke’s forehead stuck up slightly. He looked extremely pleased with himself, completely unaware that he had slipped back into his everyday habit of pampering his husband.

Wei Xun watched him without blinking. A trace of amusement passed through his eyes.

The two of them “happily” finished their respective breakfasts. Wei Xun took his leave with studied dignity, his steps unusually light.

Shang Ke saw Wei Xun out like a virtuous husband and even hummed after closing the door. Then he came to his senses. What exactly was he so pleased about?

After that, Wei Xun arrived uninvited every day, ate breakfast, and left. He brushed his presence against Shang Ke’s life just enough to be noticed while trying not to create pressure. Once they were more familiar, he planned to invite Shang Ke to work beside him, place the workplace a little farther away, and then use that as a natural excuse to find a new house and move in together.

Wei Xun’s plan was excellent, but plans never kept pace with change. Just when he felt the time was right, Shang Ke disappeared. More precisely, he left the country—silently, without even saying goodbye.

It was easy to imagine how terrible Wei Xun felt when he discovered it. He naturally assumed that all Shang Ke’s earlier gentleness had been feigned obedience meant to make Wei Xun lower his guard. Their supposed friendship had merely been an excuse to facilitate his escape.

“Bang!” Wei Xun slammed a fist onto the table, a violent glint flashing in his eyes.

“Find him immediately,” he ordered coldly.

“Yes, Master Xun.”

Shang Ke had no idea he had angered a certain tyrannosaur again. He had gone abroad not to avoid Wei Xun, but to apply for patents.

He told Qi Chen about it, but not Wei Xun. Given their relationship, they were not yet “close” enough for Shang Ke to report his schedule at every turn. Besides, filing the application would take only a few days; after that, he merely had to return home and wait for the result.

Shang Ke did not return immediately. Instead, he swept through paid assignments posted online by companies around the world, trading his technical skills for money. The tasks varied widely, and most did not pay much, but in quantity they earned him a respectable little profit.

If anyone had compiled the numbers, they would have been astonished: in four days, Shang Ke accepted forty-five assignments and completed ninety-two percent of them. The remaining eight percent consisted mainly of tasks awaiting a reply or ones he had deliberately skipped. Because the jobs came from different websites and countries, no one noticed his spectacular raid across the online task market.

“Ding-dong!” Someone knocked outside the door.

Still tapping at the keyboard, Shang Ke called out in Y-language, “Who is it?”

“Room service.”

Room service? Shang Ke checked the time. It was nearly midnight. What kind of room service came this late? Wait—was this the legendary kind of special service?

He was curious enough to see for himself, but it also sounded like a waste of time. “Sorry, I’m already in bed. I don’t need room service,” he called back.

There was no further sound outside, and Shang Ke paid it no attention. He finished the work at hand, stretched, shut down the computer, showered, fell onto the bed, and turned off the light.

Half asleep, he felt a weight on his body, as if a giant python had wrapped itself tightly around him. A burning, tingling sensation moved across his skin.

Shang Ke opened his eyes in alarm. He was lying face down on the bed with one leg bent beside him, his lower back lifted. A sudden pain tore through him as someone forcefully penetrated his body.

“Ah!” Shang Ke cried out in pain, seized a pillow, and swung it backward at the person behind him. The other man blocked it effortlessly, clamped down on his arm, and attacked even more violently.

“Get off me!” In the darkness, Shang Ke could not see the man’s face. The scent was vaguely familiar, but he could not be completely certain.

The man’s movements were fierce and forceful, leaving Shang Ke no room to resist. The bed creaked and shook; rhythmic impacts and the friction of bodies echoed through the silent room.

During the struggle, Shang Ke touched a scabbed scar on the man’s arm—the deepest scratch he had left on Wei Xun’s hand the first time.

Damn it. It really was that bastard!

Shang Ke was genuinely angry this time. No matter how tolerant he was of Wei Xun, that tolerance depended on knowing who he was and willingly allowing him to bully Shang Ke. Sneaking into the room without a word and assaulting him like a pervert had gone beyond the limits of what Shang Ke could tolerate.

“Wei Xun!” Shang Ke shouted furiously.

The man paused, then bent to kiss Shang Ke’s back. After a few forceful thrusts, he withdrew, pulled up his trousers, and walked out of the room.

He had finished and simply left. What exactly was that supposed to mean?

Shang Ke sat up, aching all over. When he felt something leaking between his legs, he cursed under his breath, jumped out of bed, and staggered into the bathroom.

Wei Xun returned to his own room and leaned against the door, staring silently at the ceiling. The violence in his emotions was difficult to restrain.

He wanted to possess Shang Ke completely. But Shang Ke was a man. A few nights together might not matter, yet truly being together would inevitably bring enormous obstacles. Even with Wei Xun’s protection, he could not guarantee Shang Ke’s safety—and still he could not control himself. The moment he learned Shang Ke had fled the country, he tracked him down without hesitation, vented his anger and unease on him, and then was overwhelmed by regret and tenderness. He wanted to bind Shang Ke tightly to his side, but he also had to fear the consequences of discovery. His family’s opposition and society’s judgment could cast Shang Ke into an abyss with no way out. And Shang Ke had not accepted him yet.

But even so, he could never let go.

Wei Xun slowly lowered his head. A sharp light gleamed from his narrowed eyes.

The next morning, Shang Ke tidied himself up and ate breakfast while waiting for Wei Xun to arrive. Sure enough, the knock came at exactly seven.

Shang Ke opened the door, let him in, returned to his seat, and continued eating breakfast.

“We need to talk.” Wei Xun sat down beside him.

“Go ahead.” Shang Ke speared a strip of ham and chewed it slowly.

Wei Xun’s gaze lingered on the lips holding the ham. “I want to sign an agreement with you.”

“About what?”

“About the rights and obligations involved in keeping you as my long-term companion, on the condition that neither of us marries or cheats.”

Shang Ke had to turn the sentence over several times before he could untangle its meaning.

He set down the half-eaten ham. “What reason would a normal man have to agree to an arrangement like that?”

If last night had not happened, Shang Ke might have considered it. He was not a normal man, after all. But now the subject was closed. Wei Xun’s feelings grew stronger in every life, and so did the scumminess of his first experience each time. Once they defined the relationship, Wei Xun would never be able to hide it.

“In fact, I do not need your consent.” Wei Xun spoke calmly. “But I do not want to force you.”

Shang Ke: … He had no energy left to comment.

“What if I refuse?”

“I will embed this agreement in your phone, computer, email, web pages—everywhere. Any time you open anything, you will see it until you click ‘Agree.’”

A Trojan horse delivered in broad daylight. Could he be any more shameless?

Shang Ke sighed. “Will you hear my proposal?”

“Go ahead.”

“We do not need to make this so complicated.” Shang Ke spoke slowly. “We are independent people with independent careers. Neither having you accommodate me nor having me depend on you is suitable. Rather than conducting a secret relationship under layers of concealment, why not be simple and direct and become business partners?”

“Business partners?”

Shang Ke nodded. “I went abroad this time to apply for patents and then find someone with whom to develop them. If you are willing, I will send the materials to your email later. You can read them and decide whether you want to cooperate.”

This man always saw himself as Shang Ke’s protector and controller. His demands had always been limited to family and sex; he had never imagined that Shang Ke could protect him too, or stand beside him in the fight. During the reincarnations, Shang Ke had not minded much because he carried a death mission and could leave at any time. This life was different. Here, he had no mission—only the future he wanted to plan with Wei Xun. The pressure from the outside world was not an obstacle. It was a challenge.

Shang Ke understood Wei Xun’s domineering nature. He could not confront him head-on; he could only soothe him bit by bit until the man changed.

Of course, he could not indulge him too much, or Wei Xun would take an entire arm after being given an inch.

Shang Ke: By working with Wei Xun, he could ride this heavyweight opportunity to the top while proving his own abilities.

Wei Xun: By working with Shang Ke, he could keep him at his side under a perfectly respectable pretext and develop their private relationship beneath the cover of a business partnership.

“What do you think?”

“Very good.”

The two of them happily reached a common front.

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