The Perplexing Plight of the Demon King

Yuan Zhanhui met Zhuo at an indoor badminton court the next day. Zhuo had declined his invitation to the gym, stating that lifting weights was simply “too boring.” Consequently, they had to find a new venue.

However, upon seeing Zhuo and Yuan Anqing again, Yuan Zhanhui was utterly bewildered.

“Brother, did you just cry?” he blurted out, staring at Zhuo’s face.

“No, I didn’t,” Zhuo casually replied. “I just had a minor allergic reaction.”

In truth, his current puffy appearance was the result of a night spent quietly shedding tears. Yuan Anqing was unaware that Zhuo had even been awake, as Zhuo had been weeping stealthily into his blanket. Despite repeatedly claiming he was fine, Zhuo had spent the entire night agonizing over the words Yuan Anqing had spoken to him.

He had never truly disappointed anyone before. Of course, he had also never offered anyone hope. Why would a monster like him need to offer hope? No one ever had any expectations of him anyway.

If anyone else had uttered those words, Zhuo likely wouldn’t have cared; he would have simply considered them mentally unsound. But Yuan Anqing was merely concerned about his health. Zhuo genuinely didn’t understand what had happened to his heart after drinking, and he had promised Yuan Anqing he wouldn’t secretly drink again.

Yet, he had immediately broken that promise and disappointed Yuan Anqing.

They had only been friends for a short while, and this was the first time Yuan Anqing had been truly disappointed in him.

Perhaps there won’t be a second time, Zhuo had mused tearfully. Yuan Anqing won’t trust me anymore. He’ll think I’m just a lying scoundrel, and all my promises are meaningless. Then, we’ll slowly drift apart. Even without a formal breakup, we’ll gradually become strangers, won’t we?

Zhuo had witnessed countless such stories in his dramas, and he desperately hoped he wouldn’t end up like that. However, he could find no solution. He saw no light ahead; his future held only endless despair.

Thus, Zhuo grieved for himself. He believed his newfound happiness was about to end, all because of his act of secretly binge-drinking.

But he had never cried before. Whenever he felt unwell, he would simply become irritable. So, Zhuo hadn’t realized his eyes could turn red and puffy from crying. This directly led to Yuan Anqing deducing that he hadn’t slept all night upon seeing his appearance.

Yuan Anqing had indeed been angry at Zhuo’s behavior, but he also understood Zhuo’s peculiar nature. If he truly wanted nothing to do with Zhuo, Yuan Anqing wouldn’t have been angry; he would have simply ignored him. Upon seeing Zhuo’s swollen, red eyes, Yuan Anqing was overcome with a profound sense of helplessness. He wanted to sigh, but he worried Zhuo might misunderstand the meaning of his sigh. There was no need to be angry with Zhuo over such a thing; the monster was still unaccustomed to processing these unfamiliar, complex emotions.

He was influencing Zhuo, or rather, they were influencing each other. This influence was quiet yet palpable. Both of them felt it, but neither dared to acknowledge it, as if their personalities had always been intertwined this way.

Zhuo was clearly the less experienced one in worldly matters. He lacked normal interpersonal skills, making him more prone to overreacting. After Yuan Anqing promised not to be harsh with him again, Zhuo’s mood had improved significantly. However, the issue with his eyes remained unresolved, forcing him to claim it was an “allergic reaction” to something he ate.

Yuan Zhanhui didn’t believe it. An allergy would only make your eyes red? he wondered. This bodyguard brother must be having relationship problems.

Yuan Zhanhui decided to probe. Zhuo was the closest person to the Savior; he must know a great deal about him.

“Shall we play a game first? Best of three?” Yuan Zhanhui asked.

He was quite proficient in badminton, and Zhuo had mentioned earlier that he didn’t play much. Yuan Zhanhui planned to win a few rounds, hoping that after suffering both emotional and then athletic setbacks, Zhuo’s spirits would hit rock bottom, making him easier to interrogate.

Yuan Zhanhui confidently gripped his two-thousand-yuan badminton racket. “The loser swaps out, alright?”

I can prepare my questions and try to extract information from the bodyguard during lunch, he planned.

Ten minutes later.

The shuttlecock landed on the court floor with a pathetic thwack.

Yuan Anqing silently flipped the scoreboard. “21 to 0. Second round over.”

Yuan Zhanhui stood rooted to the spot, staring at his hands, beginning to doubt his very existence.

Two games. He had lost both.

Both 21 to 0.

He was drenched in sweat and panting heavily, yet Zhuo still looked completely at ease, not even a single drop of sweat on his brow.

“Are you a professional player?” Yuan Zhanhui asked, incredulous. He gripped his “weapon” tightly, still unable to shake off the feeling of absolute powerlessness. He was considered quite skilled among badminton enthusiasts, but what was wrong with this guy?! He couldn’t even return a single one of Zhuo’s serves, and his performance only worsened as the game progressed. Yuan Zhanhui now wanted to smash his racket.

“I’m not,” Zhuo replied honestly. He had never even touched a badminton racket before today. He had little interest in sports.

Zhuo’s physical talent defied logic. His absolute biological superiority allowed him to overcome any issues with strength and fine motor skills, so sports failed to excite him because they presented absolutely no challenge.

“Want to play again?” Zhuo asked him. It was a best-of-three, and Zhuo had already won two games.

“Wait! I’m not participating in your game! I’ll just watch from the sidelines,” Yuan Zhanhui declared, dropping his racket. He collapsed onto the bench where Yuan Anqing was sitting. “I’ll watch you two.”

“I don’t play,” Yuan Anqing said, remaining in his aloof state on the bench.

According to the organization’s misguided conjectures, Yuan Anqing was a terrifying entity possessing both god-like physical prowess and immense spiritual power. Yuan Anqing did not wish to disrupt this useful speculation, so he chose not to participate in any sports. He couldn’t play badminton, nor could he learn a sport solely from a rulebook like Zhuo could. If he stepped onto the court, he would surely expose the fact that he was just a regular, out-of-shape corporate drone.

Even if Zhuo went easy on him, the sheer force of Zhuo’s swings and the power of his smashes would still be evident. So, Yuan Anqing chose to sit still, observing the two men on the court with the detached gaze of a tired adult watching children play.

His gaze sent shivers down Yuan Zhanhui’s spine. If this bodyguard is already a demigod, how terrifying must the actual Savior be?

Attempting to show off before such a powerful figure, Yuan Zhanhui’s psychological pressure had skyrocketed exponentially. His condition worsened progressively with his increasing mental strain, until lunchtime, when Zhuo asked him if something was bothering him, as he looked terrible.

By then, Zhuo’s eyes were no longer red, while Yuan Zhanhui was drenched in sweat, his eyes hollow, merely panting in a daze as he ate.

“Is something troubling you lately?” Zhuo asked him.

“There wasn’t, originally,” Yuan Zhanhui said, staring into his rice bowl. “But there is now.”

Although he wasn’t a professional player, he had been playing for years and considered himself a veteran. Yet, being utterly dominated by a first-timer made Yuan Zhanhui feel like his life had turned bleak. Especially with the terrifying Yuan Anqing watching him with that unsettlingly calm, analytical gaze.

“You’re already very impressive,” Yuan Anqing comforted him. “You shouldn’t compare yourself to Zhuo.” Zhuo didn’t fall within the normal human range, so strictly speaking, the match between Yuan Zhanhui and Zhuo was completely unfair; the biological disparity was too vast.

Upon hearing this “comfort,” Yuan Zhanhui rubbed his face with his hand, feeling even worse.

At that moment, Yuan Anqing’s phone rang. Yuan Anqing stood up. “I’ll take this call outside.”

“Stay where I can see you, okay?” Zhuo reminded him.

Yuan Anqing nodded.

They were eating by the window, and Yuan Anqing walked just outside of it. Zhuo could see Yuan Anqing perfectly, and the window posed no obstruction to the monster’s line of sight whatsoever.

The call was from Bai Tian. “You said Zhuo cried?” Bai Tian’s voice was astonished. “He cried because you scolded him?!”

“Yes, and I feel like he’s also a bit anxious and insecure,” Yuan Anqing said, sounding helpless. Despite his reassurances this morning, Yuan Anqing had occasionally noticed Zhuo’s sudden dips in mood. “Has he ever been like this before? How should I comfort him?”

“No, I’ve never seen him cry. He’s always been a little devil with us,” Bai Tian said, then couldn’t help but ask, “Did you take a picture? What does he look like when he cries?”

“No, I didn’t. But he looked quite pitiful,” Yuan Anqing recalled Zhuo’s demeanor last night. He couldn’t fathom how the massive chimera managed to make himself appear so small. “I wouldn’t take photos at a time like that.”

Bai Tian let out an audible “Ah” of disappointment.

“Are you disappointed?” Yuan Anqing asked.

“A little,” Bai Tian admitted.

Inside, Zhuo continued to stare at Yuan Anqing’s back. The atmosphere at the table had fallen silent. Yuan Zhanhui quickly ate two mouthfuls of food, then decided to seize the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the bodyguard. “You and your boyfriend must have a very good relationship, right?”

Boyfriend? Zhuo paused, then nodded upon realizing Yuan Zhanhui was referring to Yuan Anqing. “We have a very good relationship. We sleep together every day.”

Zhuo meant ‘sleep’ as a noun, but to Yuan Zhanhui’s ears, it registered as a very active verb.

Yuan Zhanhui swallowed hard. “Brother… who’s on top and who’s on the bottom between you two?”

“Ah, Yuan Anqing always sleeps on top of me,” Zhuo replied honestly. He couldn’t possibly lie on top of Yuan Anqing; at over two hundred pounds, he would crush the man. But Yuan Anqing sleeping on him was very comfortable, and it placed no burden on Zhuo whatsoever.

“Um, brother, your partner looks quite intimidating, doesn’t he?” Yuan Zhanhui recalled Yuan Anqing’s icy gaze from earlier. “He seems to have a rather cold personality. How did you two get together?”

Is this person trying to pry into our private life? Zhuo glanced at Yuan Zhanhui’s reflection in the window, then cleared his throat and decided to lay it on thick. “That’s a long story.”

“We fell in love at first sight, you see. He liked me the moment he laid eyes on me,” Zhuo told Yuan Zhanhui confidently. “He especially loved my horns and my tail, which is why he chose to be with me.”

“Chose?”

“Many people like Yuan Anqing, don’t they?” Zhuo said matter-of-factly.

Their first meeting hadn’t been pleasant, but Zhuo didn’t consider that a major problem. His immediate, violent desire to devour Yuan Anqing upon seeing him could also be considered a form of “love at first sight,” couldn’t it?

However, in Yuan Zhanhui’s interpretation, after the Savior’s arrival, the authorities had paraded a multitude of so-called “bodyguards” for Yuan Anqing to choose from, and Yuan Anqing had hand-picked Zhuo for his exotic features.

How extravagant and debauched! Yuan Zhanhui thought. This poor Zhuo has no basic human rights! He’s been reduced to a tool for the Savior’s romantic amusement!

“Brother, your eyes were red earlier because you were crying, weren’t they?” Yuan Zhanhui asked again, feeling sorry for him.

Zhuo frowned, considering whether to simply apprehend Yuan Zhanhui on the spot. He didn’t want to expose his vulnerable side to a stranger.

Yuan Zhanhui lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Did Yuan Anqing go too far last night?”

Zhuo’s eyes widened. “He did not go too far!” It was Zhuo himself who had secretly gone binge-drinking.

Zhuo was displeased. He turned to glance at Yuan Zhanhui, intending to briefly invade the spy’s mind to see what terrible, slanderous things he was thinking.

“Agh!” Zhuo shrieked, quickly backing away from Yuan Zhanhui as if he had been burned.

Everyone else in the restaurant looked over. Outside, Yuan Anqing, who had been paying attention to the restaurant’s interior, quickly hung up his phone and rushed back in. “What happened?!”

“Nothing…” Zhuo was still breathing heavily, his face flushed. “It’s nothing.” In fact, Zhuo had seen many such perverted scenarios in the desire vortex, but never with himself as the protagonist.

And he had been naked… and restrained… with Yuan Anqing doing that to him…

“Are you really okay? Your face is all red.” Yuan Anqing reached out and gently placed a hand on Zhuo’s cheek; it was burning hot. “You’re not running a fever, are you?”

“Brother?” The culprit, Yuan Zhanhui, was also bewildered. He even touched the top of his own head, confirming he hadn’t accidentally reverted to his true form. Yes, Yuan Zhanhui also had a true form; he was a human-beast hybrid, a leopard in his natural state. But no ears had suddenly sprouted from his head. Why had Zhuo been so scared by him?

“I am not your brother!” Zhuo yelled at Yuan Zhanhui. “You’re an annoying, perverted fellow!”

“Zhuo! Don’t talk like that!” Yuan Anqing didn’t know what had happened, but seeing Yuan Zhanhui’s bewildered expression, he guessed the spy knew no more than he did. “Are you feeling unwell? Should we go back and have you checked out?”

“I’m not unwell,” Zhuo muttered, sitting back down. “Not unwell at all.”

“Are you sure?” Yuan Anqing placed his hand on Zhuo’s forehead. “You feel a little warm.”

“No, I’m fine.” Zhuo actually wanted to go home because he found Yuan Zhanhui too strange. Zhuo disliked strange, perverted people. Yet, he also felt a strange curiosity. He had never seen a fantasy starring him and Yuan Anqing before. He couldn’t help but want to see what other depraved things Yuan Zhanhui’s mind could conjure.

“Achoo!” Yuan Zhanhui turned his head and sneezed. He was perfectly healthy and didn’t have a cold. Was someone talking badly about him?

Yuan Anqing remained skeptical of Zhuo’s “I’m fine,” but he chose to trust him.

“I’m sorry, were you startled?” Yuan Anqing asked Yuan Zhanhui. “What were you two just talking about?”

Yuan Zhanhui instantly became alert. “We were just talking about how you two got together.”

Yuan Anqing nodded, taking a sip of juice. “Mr. Yuan Zhanhui is very curious about this?”

“Haha, not really. I’ve never been in a relationship, you see,” Yuan Zhanhui lied, meeting Yuan Anqing’s gaze. He felt all the hairs on his body stand on end.

The Yuan Anqing in his imagination was too terrifying, so even a slight change in the real Yuan Anqing’s expression would make him instinctively wary.

Yuan Anqing was somewhat surprised. “You’ve never been in a relationship? You have quite good looks.”

“I don’t know why, but every time I ask someone I like to the gym for a first date, I get rejected,” Yuan Zhanhui scratched his head.

Ask them to the gym? Yuan Anqing probably understood why the other man didn’t have a partner.

“Where do you two usually go on dates?” Yuan Zhanhui asked in return.

“Us? There’s no fixed place. We just watch movies together and have meals,” Yuan Anqing said. He recalled their current domestic setup, then added, “Oh, we also go to the gym together, but I don’t work out.” He meant to convey that his physique was naturally perfect.

However, Yuan Zhanhui interpreted this as: Zhuo works out, and Yuan Anqing does all sorts of terrible, dominant things to Zhuo while he’s exercising.

“We also have equipment at home,” Yuan Anqing continued. “There’s a pull-up bar.”

That pull-up bar had been in their apartment since they moved in. It now served as their primary clothes-drying rack.

As expected! Yuan Zhanhui took a deep breath. They must have a very wild time at home.
Who knows if that pull-up bar is for exercise or for restraining Zhuo? When Zhuo does weighted pull-ups, what kind of ‘weight’ is he bearing exactly?
Ugh, Yuan Zhanhui felt a pang of secondhand discomfort.

Thinking this, Yuan Zhanhui looked at Zhuo again. He noticed Zhuo was also staring at him with wide eyes, having completely forgotten to eat his meal.

Zhuo could perceive the highly detailed thoughts that flashed through Yuan Zhanhui’s mind.

This Yuan Zhanhui must have watched a lot—a LOT—of R-rated movies, Zhuo thought. And his claim of never having had a partner is probably true; otherwise, how could his imagination be so vividly depraved?!

Moreover, the Yuan Anqing in Yuan Zhanhui’s imagination was truly cold and ruthless, like an elegant supervillain from a fantasy film. No matter what state Zhuo was in, the illusory Yuan Anqing’s expression never changed. He was always high and mighty, as if admiring his pet’s pained performance.

“Anqing,” Zhuo suddenly called out.

Yuan Anqing paused, looking at Zhuo. This form of address seemed overly intimate.

“Could you get me a napkin?” Zhuo extended his hand to Yuan Anqing. “The tissues are on your side.”

“Alright.” Yuan Anqing pulled out a tissue and handed it to Zhuo.

Zhuo took the tissue. He stared at Yuan Zhanhui, slowly wiping his mouth with the napkin.

He must have seen it, right? Zhuo thought triumphantly. Yuan Anqing isn’t a sadistic tyrant! He cares about me very much!

Then, he saw Yuan Anqing in Yuan Zhanhui’s mental mini-drama throw a wadded-up tissue at Zhuo and coldly say, “Wipe it yourself, pet.”

Zhuo: “…”

“Hey!” Zhuo called out to Yuan Zhanhui. “Can you watch fewer adult films?”

“Zhuo! Be polite,” Yuan Anqing interrupted.

If I’m any more polite, the Zhuo in Yuan Zhanhui’s twisted mind will completely turn into a helpless damsel, Zhuo thought.

“I don’t watch those things often,” Yuan Zhanhui said, not understanding why Zhuo was telling him this. He had indeed seen such content, but he was an adult with normal needs. Moreover, he felt his frequency of watching adult films was quite normal; as a child, he hadn’t even watched wildlife documentaries because they included leopard mating scenes.

Zhuo felt it was only right that Yuan Zhanhui couldn’t find a partner; his fantasies were simply too bizarre. But Zhuo couldn’t directly refute him because he couldn’t reveal that he knew the spy’s thoughts. So, Zhuo could only lower his head dejectedly and mutter softly, “He hasn’t even watched them, yet he imagines such strange, detailed things.”

His voice was extremely soft, but Yuan Anqing, sitting beside Zhuo, heard it clearly.

Imagines strange things?

Yuan Anqing paused, then realized something, and abruptly looked up at Yuan Zhanhui. He thought Yuan Zhanhui had developed inappropriate thoughts about Zhuo, doing terrible things to him in his mind, and all of it had been perceived by Zhuo.

In that instant, Yuan Anqing’s pupils turned a brilliant, threatening gold. Yuan Zhanhui, who was looking at Yuan Anqing, felt an inexplicable, terrifying force invade his personal space, and then…

Snap!

A long, furry tail suddenly extended from behind Yuan Zhanhui. The tail’s fur was yellow, covered in elegant, oval black patterns.

Yuan Zhanhui reached up and touched the top of his head. Good. This time, his furry leopard ears had also appeared.

Yuan Anqing: “…”

He had merely been overcome with emotion; he had no intention of actually attacking Yuan Zhanhui and forcing him to change.

Zhuo, meanwhile, looked at Yuan Zhanhui’s furry tail, then at his own thick, scaly tail. He declared possessively, “Your tail isn’t as long as mine, nor as thick.” It clearly wouldn’t be good for hugging. Fur won’t help; that pathetic tail can only be grabbed.

“Uh, um, I need to go home,” Yuan Zhanhui stammered, covering his backside in embarrassment. “I’ll go home and change my pants. Let’s reschedule for next time!”

“Uh, you…” Yuan Anqing started to stand up with him.

“I’ll explain!” Yuan Zhanhui thought the Savior had seen through his identity. “I haven’t done anything bad! Please give me a chance to explain!” He couldn’t be captured!

“Ah, alright.” Yuan Anqing had merely wanted to ask if he needed a ride.

Yuan Zhanhui, clutching the base of his tail, swiftly vanished from Yuan Anqing’s sight.

Yuan Anqing and Zhuo exchanged glances. Zhuo raised his tail toward Yuan Anqing. “Do you want to hug it?”

“What exactly did you see in his mind just now?” Yuan Anqing still needed to confirm that Yuan Zhanhui was truly harmless to Zhuo.

Half an hour later, Yuan Anqing and Zhuo returned home. Explaining Yuan Zhanhui’s thoughts wasn’t difficult. Zhuo didn’t elaborate on the specific graphic actions; he simply summarized them as “super perverted fantasies.”

However, the object of the fantasy wasn’t Zhuo.

Yuan Zhanhui had no such desires for the bodyguard. He was merely speculating on how perverse this legendary Savior truly was, and Zhuo was merely the vessel for that perversity in his imagination. The true protagonist of the fantasy was the “terrifying” Yuan Anqing.

“Then you shouldn’t have kept watching after just one glance,” Yuan Anqing said, not caring what strangers thought of him.

“I couldn’t help it,” Zhuo admitted. He wanted to know how the plot would develop, how much more bizarre it would get.

“Don’t do that again next time,” Yuan Anqing said, patting Zhuo’s arm comfortingly.

Zhuo’s arm muscles tensed.

The image of Yuan Anqing, wearing leather gloves and caressing him in that depraved fantasy, suddenly flashed through Zhuo’s mind.

Upon realizing what he was thinking, Zhuo grew angry. He had been influenced!

“I’m going to take a nap,” Yuan Anqing said, stretching. “I’ll make dinner after I wake up. Want to join me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Zhuo quickly followed him to the bedroom.

“Do you think Yuan Zhanhui’s tail was pretty?” Zhuo suddenly asked.

“It was pretty, I suppose,” Yuan Anqing recalled the furry tail. “I haven’t seen many leopards in real life, so his tail was quite novel to me.”

“More novel than mine?”

“Not really. I don’t even know what to classify your species as.”

Zhuo used the towel he had used to wipe his tail to clean it again, then lay down on the bed and naturally wrapped his cool, scaly tail around Yuan Anqing’s waist. “Would you prefer his furry tail?”

Yuan Anqing finally understood. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” Zhuo said, tapping his tail tip against Yuan Anqing’s back. “Just curious.”

“I don’t like cute animals,” Yuan Anqing said. He then realized his words weren’t quite right. After all, leopards weren’t traditionally “cute”; they were dangerous predators. “I don’t want anything furry in my life.”

“Why? Everyone loves them! And there are more people who like felines than canines now, you know,” Zhuo said, rubbing his head against Yuan Anqing’s affectionately.

“They are indeed very cute,” Yuan Anqing agreed wholeheartedly about their appearance. “But they shed, right? And dogs need to be walked.” He didn’t have the energy to care for pets; merely surviving himself was already quite an accomplishment.

“What about me, then?” Zhuo circled back to himself.

He really is jealous, isn’t he?

Yuan Anqing sighed helplessly. “You’re different. At least for me right now, your presence makes my life easier.” Besides, Zhuo didn’t shed; Zhuo’s hair was incredibly stable and never fell out.

Zhuo was satisfied. He rubbed his head against Yuan Anqing’s and closed his eyes.

The two of them had no trouble falling asleep together. Zhuo quickly drifted into slumber.

And his dreamland tonight was strikingly similar to Yuan Zhanhui’s perverted fantasies.

He dreamt he was a powerful Demon King who had destroyed countless towns, only to be captured by a cruel Prince.

The Prince would feed him well, never letting him go hungry, but also used him as a literal bed.

Later, the Prince’s demands grew increasingly outrageous; he even wanted Zhuo, a male demon, to be his princess. Zhuo stated he was a male demon, but the Prince declared that if Zhuo didn’t become his partner, he would have to go to work, using his immense power to plow the farmlands. All the land in the entire country would be Zhuo’s to plow by hand.

Zhuo surrendered. He refused to plow, and in the end, he became the Prince’s partner, accompanying him for both types of ‘sleep.’

Zhuo woke up with a start, violently tapping his own head, hoping to cast those terrible thoughts out of his mind.

What a strange dream! Why would Yuan Anqing make me plow? I only have horns; I’m not an ox.
I’ve become strange! I’ve definitely become strange!

Yuan Anqing was shaken awake by Zhuo’s frantic movements.

He groggily opened his eyes to find Zhuo wearing a thick winter down jacket, anxiously staring at him.

Yuan Anqing: “…”

Ah, I must still be dreaming, he thought. Back to sleep.

“Yuan Anqing! Yuan Anqing!!!” Zhuo increased his shaking, finally preventing Yuan Anqing from falling back asleep.

“Hiss, what are you doing?” Yuan Anqing reached out and touched the thick down jacket on Zhuo. “It’s still far from winter, isn’t it?”

“I’m not right! The moment you touch me, I’m not right!” Zhuo wanted to physically separate himself from Yuan Anqing. “I had a terrible dream where you and I… got together!”

“Ah, you saw that pervert’s fantasy. It’s normal to have such dreams after that,” Yuan Anqing said, unfazed. He had heard that some people even dreamed of their own relatives in such dreams.

“But it’s really not right!” Zhuo recounted the dream in detail. He felt his mind must have been influenced; he had never experienced anything like this before, no matter how much depravity he had seen.

And Yuan Anqing…

Yuan Anqing laughed. A hearty, unrestrained laugh unlike any before. “Plowing the land?! Hahahaha!”

Zhuo was expressionless. “I’m upset, you know.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Yuan Anqing waved his hand, still laughing. “That dream of yours is too cute, hahahaha!”

“You’re mocking me!” Zhuo heard it clearly.

“I’m not, hahahaha.” Yuan Anqing couldn’t control his thoughts. He kept imagining Zhuo’s miserable face while plowing a field. Zhuo would definitely cry.

Then, he was retaliated against.

Zhuo fiercely pushed him onto the bed, then pressed his entire massive body down on him. Zhuo didn’t use much force, but he completely enveloped Yuan Anqing. “Stop laughing! Or I won’t let you go!”

Yuan Anqing still couldn’t stifle his laughter. He could only hug Zhuo back, burying his head against the monster’s chest to muffle the sound. But his body was still shaking.

Zhuo’s pointed ears were bright red. “You are so annoying!!”

Yuan Anqing’s laughter hadn’t stopped.

Zhuo silently buried his head into the bed beside Yuan Anqing’s head, letting out a faint whimper. His entire face and neck seemed sunburned, thoroughly flushed red with embarrassment.