The Hidden Sanctuary

Hearing this, Peng Biao followed the beautiful youth’s gaze and immediately spotted the electric scooter parked nearby, stubbornly radiating its pink light.

In the next second, he felt a wave of shame and embarrassment unlike anything he had experienced in years. He stammered, “A—Ah, yes. It’s my electric scooter.”

“But it’s pink!” The beautiful youth’s voice was full of wonder. His eyes were fixed on the little pink scooter, not moving for a single second.

This question made Peng Biao’s face flush even redder. He didn’t know how to answer.

Perhaps it was because he had been taller and sturdier than average since childhood, but people had always avoided him, claiming he looked fierce and terrifying.

At first, Peng Biao felt wronged, but eventually, he learned to wrap himself in a hard shell. However, the impact remained: the more someone is denied something, the more they crave it. Peng Biao grew to love the color pink—the total opposite of his rugged exterior.

Very few people knew about this, and he rarely showed it in public.

Today, having left in such a rush, he hadn’t had time to switch vehicles and had accidentally driven out his favorite pink scooter. Otherwise, he never would have let this little secret slip in front of the beautiful boy.

Now that the youth had noticed something was “off,” Peng Biao couldn’t find a better explanation.

In his desperation, he blurted out without thinking: “This scooter belongs to a friend. I rarely go out myself.”

While the first half was a “asking for a friend” style lie, the second half was true—he really did rarely go out.

Previously, by performing exorcisms, Peng Biao had earned more money than most people see in several lifetimes. Aside from buying a house, he saved most of it as a “wife fund.”

As for luxury cars like BMWs, Peng Biao, who hated going out, had absolutely no use for them. Maintenance and repairs were a hassle, and usually, clients sent specialized cars to pick him up for jobs, so he never needed to drive himself.

In this situation, an electric scooter—cheap, easy to charge, and capable of meeting his minimal travel needs—was the best choice.

Peng Biao had decided that the money saved on cars could be given to his future wife. If she wanted a car, she could pick whatever she liked. It was a win-win situation.

Of course, these were his past thoughts. He never expected to meet someone he liked so soon, let alone expose his secret hobby to them. If he had known, he would have bought a luxury car ages ago just to avoid this awkward moment.

“Oh. Can we leave now?” Ye Shengge didn’t care whose car it was; he only cared about when he could finally experience riding this little scooter.

In the past, he always had private cars for transport. Small, cute scooters like this were things he only saw on the street, never having the chance to try one himself.

Perhaps he could fulfill that little wish in this dungeon.

“Yes! Of course!” Seeing that the boy didn’t press the issue of the pink color and didn’t look down on him for picking him up on a scooter, Peng Biao breathed a sigh of relief. He nodded quickly, grinning as he handed the boy a helmet and gestured for him to sit on the back.

Meeting the big guy’s gaze, Ye Shengge nodded reservedly. As soon as the big guy turned around, he excitedly put on the helmet and hopped onto the back seat.

“Sit tight. You can hold onto my waist so you don’t fall off,” Peng Biao warned him seriously after putting on his own helmet.

As a first-time scooter rider full of curiosity, Ye Shengge didn’t suspect a thing. Afraid of falling and getting hurt, he moved his hands from the back rails to grip Peng Biao’s waist.

However, Peng Biao’s waist was far more muscular than he imagined, and the muscles were rock-hard. He couldn’t even get a full grip.

Would this actually keep me from falling?

Maybe holding the back rails was better.

Thinking this, Ye Shengge frowned and started to let go.

But as he loosened his grip, a pair of large hands suddenly wrapped around his, holding them tight with a force that was firm yet hard to struggle against.

It was Peng Biao.

“What are you doing?!” Ye Shengge glared at him, his shimmering eyes full of indignation.

“S—Sorry!” Peng Biao snatched his hands away instantly, his face heating up. His voice wavered: “You… you should just hold onto me. It’s safer. If you fall, it’ll hurt, and then you’ll start crying again.”

Actually, these were all excuses. Anyone who has ridden a scooter knows that passengers don’t always have to hold the driver’s waist to stay safe.

He was just tricking the inexperienced boy. To put it bluntly, Peng Biao was just “thirsty” for the beautiful boy’s touch.

After uttering the lie, Peng Biao felt a bit guilty, but he kept hypnotizing himself: It’s for his safety.

Even though he was a bit of a pervert who enjoyed seeing the boy’s eyes turn red with tears, he certainly didn’t want the boy to get into an actual accident.

For Ye Shengge, who knew nothing about scooter safety, the trick worked.

The beautiful boy shivered at the thought of falling, but he still huffed a cold snort and said with false bravado: “Fine, I’ll hold on. But who did you say would cry? I’m telling you, listen up—I won’t cry!”

Hearing this, Peng Biao annoyed-ly smacked his own head, cursing his clumsy tongue for upsetting the boy.

He wanted to say something to coax him, but his mouth opened and closed for a long time without finding a single comforting word. He could only manage a dry “Oh,” indicating he understood.

“Then why aren’t you moving yet?” The beautiful youth snorted and gave the big guy’s waist a light pinch, “threatening” him to leave.

Instead of moving, the big guy froze. His breathing grew heavy, and his dark eyes stared at the heartless, beautiful boy, thinking heaven knows what.

Seeing him stay still, Ye Shengge grew anxious. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, he said, “I’m so hot. Can you hurry up?”

This worked instantly.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m taking you back now!” Peng Biao quickly cast aside his messy thoughts and started the motor, terrified that if he was a step late, someone else would steal the boy away.

Ye Shengge had no idea that the big guy on the pink scooter was having such a rich internal monologue. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cool breeze that gradually swept away the heat from his body.

Though a car with open windows provided a similar breeze—perhaps even a stronger, more comfortable one—the feeling was different. Ye Shengge enjoyed the sense of freedom on the little scooter.

In contrast to the slightly cheap-looking pink scooter, Peng Biao’s home was surprisingly luxurious—so much so that Ye Shengge was stunned.

“A game room, a gym, a private cinema, a swimming pool…”

From the moment he stepped inside, Ye Shengge was speechless.

The decor screamed “expensive luxury,” and the layout was perfectly equipped. Even with a critical eye, he couldn’t find a flaw. The only tiny blemish was that the decorations in the living room were a bit too “gold and shiny,” reminiscent of the “new money” style preferred by coal mine tycoons.

But it wasn’t a big deal; everywhere else was normal.

Peng Biao, who was constantly monitoring the boy’s reactions, saw that he was satisfied. While feeling proud, he didn’t forget to be humble: “The living room is a bit messy. I’ll clean it up later. If there’s anything you don’t like, tell me, and I’ll have someone tear it down and remodel it immediately.”

Now the comparison was complete: not only did the living room look like a tycoon’s house, but his tone sounded like one too.

Looking at the big guy’s poorly hidden pride, Ye Shengge had to suppress a laugh so hard his stomach hurt.

However, he didn’t forget the first part of what Peng Biao said. He asked curiously: “You clean it yourself?”

He assumed someone this rich would hire a housekeeping service or a live-in maid.

“Of course I do it myself. I don’t like strangers in my house.” At this, Peng Biao’s pride grew. “I’ve been doing housework since I was a kid. I’m a pro at laundry and cooking. If you live with me, you don’t have to worry about meals or laundry at all. I’ll do it all for you.”

He knew that while the boy was also an orphan, their backgrounds were different. He wanted to use these skills to entice the boy to stay longer. He was confident that once the boy tasted his cooking, he wouldn’t want to leave.

As for laundry… if the boy was willing, he wouldn’t just wash his outer clothes; he’d do the underwear, too.

He wondered what the boy’s underwear looked like. Would it be as pretty and cute as he was, carrying a faint, tempting sweetness?

The more he thought, the redder his face became. He was so excited he wanted to howl at the sky or run laps around the house.

As for the other party, he was happy to be relieved of chores.

“Okay!” Ye Shengge’s eyes lit up. He felt like the big guy was a hidden treasure—the more he dug, the more surprises he found.

He had wondered why Peng Biao, a Heavenly Master, looked as strong as a bodyguard. It turned out he was the one maintaining this massive house alone.

“Then it’s a deal.” Peng Biao was overjoyed, immediately sealing the agreement. Then, he remembered something and asked: “By the way, you called me out so suddenly… was there something important you wanted to tell me?”

Peng Biao wasn’t so conceited as to think the boy had abandoned his comfortable villa to live with him because he liked him.

The only other possibility was that something had happened at the villa that made the boy afraid.

Looking at the boy’s slightly reddened eyes, Peng Biao felt that the probability of him being scared was very high. And that “scary thing” likely had something to do with the “dirty things” he had sensed earlier.