Fu Songcheng slowly closed his eyes, his fingers clutching the bedsheet beneath him for dear life.
The originally clean, tidy bedsheet was kneaded into a shapeless mess.
It bore the sweat they’d left from their fierce fight—the damp, warm sensation spreading through his fingertips, yet unable to extinguish the restlessness in either of them.
Reason in this moment had become a flimsy, laughable sheet of white paper.
The Bitter Couple’s curse was like an airtight net soaked in desire, binding them dead to this cramped bed, unable to escape, nowhere to hide.
In the dim rest room, heavy, disordered breathing echoed through the air, intertwined with something unspeakable, a hidden sinking.
Everything teetered violently on the edge of losing control—and they were willing to fall.
…
“Songcheng-gege… I feel awful.”
…
Fu Songcheng took a deep breath. The hand that had been about to push the other away slowly, helplessly, turned into an embrace, his fingers gently sinking into Yu Huaiting’s sweat-damp short hair.
“You do it.”
Fu Songcheng closed his eyes, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.
…
Fine as a grain.
…
Yu Huaiting very carefully slid his arms under Fu Songcheng’s back and the crook of his knees and lifted him wholly into his arms.
Fu Songcheng hooked his arms around Yu Huaiting’s neck, his body tensing slightly at the sudden suspension. “What are you doing?”
“Getting something.”
Yu Huaiting’s voice was terribly hoarse, yet his movements were incredibly steady.
Carrying Fu Songcheng, he strode toward the bathroom and, with one hand, took an unopened bottle of body wash from the washstand.
Back on the bed, being maneuvered by Yu Huaiting, Fu Songcheng’s gaze began to drift uncontrollably.
He wasn’t used to it.
He was extremely unused to it.
All disguises stripped away, he was exposed before Yu Huaiting in the most primal, most candid, most defenseless state.
He didn’t know where to put his hands, didn’t know where to direct his gaze—didn’t even dare look directly into Yu Huaiting’s eyes that seemed capable of devouring him.
He lowered his head, biting hard on his lower lip, his lashes trembling violently, displaying every ounce of the reserve and helplessness buried in his bones.
It wasn’t that he lacked desire—he knew clearly what was coming next.
Fortunately, Yu Huaiting—who usually seemed unreliable, only good for causing trouble—displayed unprecedented patience and gentleness in this moment.
“Songcheng-gege, look at me.”
Yu Huaiting reached out and gently pinched Fu Songcheng’s chin, forcing him to lift his head.
Yu Huaiting’s palm bore thin calluses; his fingertip rubbed over Fu Songcheng’s cheek, the motion as gentle as if handling rare treasure.
This was Yu Huaiting’s first time too—his hands were actually trembling slightly—but he forced himself to steady, guiding Fu Songcheng bit by bit, clumsily yet utterly firmly.
“Don’t be afraid. Leave it to me.” Yu Huaiting kissed his tightly furrowed brow.
…
But soon, their negative status updated again.
[System Notification: Negative attribute triggered—Electric Shock.]
Almost instantly, the numbing sensation of electric shock entered both their nerves.
Fu Songcheng gasped sharply, his body convulsing violently beyond control, physiological tears instantly welling from the corners of his eyes.
He instinctively wanted to curl up and hide from the stimulation.
“Don’t hide…”
Yu Huaiting’s condition wasn’t much better—his veins bulged, cold sweat dripping in big beads down his jawline.
Yet instead of loosening his hold on Fu Songcheng, he held him tighter, as if trying to knead him into his own flesh and blood.
Working hard to pull Fu Songcheng’s attention from the system’s negative status back onto himself.
Just as the Bitter Couple negative status was about to intervene with its next step, the entire rest-area space suddenly shook violently without warning.
[System Announcement:]
[Death Party 4.0 major version update has been forcibly activated.]
[All instance maps are being archived… All player data is being frozen and settled…]
[Downloading patch……..(1/437)]
The outside game world was undergoing earth-shaking change, system notification pop-ups coming one after another.
Yet in Fu Songcheng’s rest room, no one cared about this upheaval.
The Bitter Couple negative effect didn’t continue to take hold.
What remained was only two souls intertwined, free of any restraint, utterly losing their way in endless sinking.
…
The next day.
Fu Songcheng again woke before Yu Huaiting.
He struggled to open his heavy eyelids, his vision gradually focusing in the dim light.
Before him was an unfamiliar dark gray ceiling.
He froze for a few seconds, his slightly sluggish brain slowly starting up—this was Yu Huaiting’s private rest room.
The simulated daylight outside the window had already dimmed; by the looks of it, it was at least afternoon, maybe even evening.
They’d been absurd from yesterday afternoon straight through to the small hours.
Fu Songcheng tried to move his arm, only to find every muscle screaming in protest.
His constitution was never as strong as Yu Huaiting’s. He couldn’t remember much of what came after—only Yu Huaiting’s tireless demands, and his own broken, tearful sounds forced out of him, sounds that made even himself ashamed to hear.
He took a deep breath, his ears still burning hot.
Fu Songcheng found his body clean and fresh—clearly Yu Huaiting had considerately cleaned him afterward and changed him into a loose, clean pajama top carrying Yu Huaiting’s scent.
He shifted his sore, weak body slightly, trying to sit up.
That tiny movement instantly woke the person beside him.
A strong arm swept around his waist at once, with irresistible force pulling him back into a warm embrace.
Yu Huaiting didn’t even open his eyes, just mumbled drowsily: “Songcheng-gege… don’t go.”
This wasn’t the first time Fu Songcheng had lain in the same bed as Yu Huaiting.
But this time, they’d crossed that most secret boundary, done the most intimate thing.
Everything had happened too fast, too out of control.
Fu Songcheng didn’t know what attitude to face the current Yu Huaiting with.
He was silent for a moment, then raised his hand, trying to gently push away the arm around his waist. “Huaiting, I want to…”
His hand had just touched the back of Yu Huaiting’s hand, before he could exert force, when Yu Huaiting caught it backhanded and held it fast.
Yu Huaiting opened his eyes, his deep gaze fixed steadily on Fu Songcheng in the dim light.
He drew Fu Songcheng’s slightly cool fingers to his lips, closed his eyes, and placed an extremely gentle yet utterly precious kiss on those slender knuckles.
“Songcheng-gege, you’re so good.”
That done, Yu Huaiting nimbly rolled out of bed, getting up even before Fu Songcheng.
He casually pulled on a black T-shirt and loose trousers.
“You lie a while longer. I’ll go get food.”
He walked to the rest room door, opened it, and took the insulated box he’d ordered in advance from the doorway.
Fu Songcheng leaned against the headboard, watching Yu Huaiting’s back without a word, somewhat surprised by his thoughtfulness.
Yu Huaiting carried the insulated box to the small table by the bed and started opening the packaging.
He seemed afraid of making too much noise and disturbing Fu Songcheng, moving with great care.
But the more careful he was, the more he couldn’t open that tightly sealed soup container lid. He frowned, wrestling with the plastic lid, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.
With a click, the lid finally opened, a few drops of hot soup splashing onto the back of his hand. He hurriedly grabbed a tissue to wipe the table.
Fu Songcheng watched him bustle about quietly, the corner of his mouth unconsciously curving.
Silly dog—but a very thoughtful silly dog.
Before the clumsy yet sincere Yu Huaiting, Fu Songcheng felt his own embarrassment and shyness were unnecessary.
He lowered his eyes, looking at the porridge Yu Huaiting had just prepared, and suddenly, for no reason, felt like thanking himself.
Thanking himself for agreeing readily when Yu Huaiting said he wanted to team up.
Thanking himself for playing along through the wedding consummation in the instance.
Thanking himself for not calculating the pros and cons and choosing to flee after becoming Bitter Couple.
It was Fu Songcheng’s own choices, again and again, that had brought him everything he had now. If he felt happiness, then the first person he should thank was always himself.
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