SZAR Chapter 59

Too much. Too far.

Yi Xi was no longer composed as he used to be. His muscles were tense, the corners of his eyes reddened, sweat-drenched skin glistening under the light. Lying limp on the bed, he looked like a melting scoop of ice cream.

Chu Xiu was awkward, but he learned quickly. His experience as a top bartender made him extremely skillful in handling objects.

Yi Xi could suppress his instincts, but he couldn’t withstand this excessive stimulation. Lying on his back, he opened his eyes to look at Chu Xiu, his vision hazy, and weakly called out his name.

“Cointreau…”

The boy’s expression was serious, his brows slightly furrowed, eyes fixed with intense focus on a single point, like a student tackling the final, hardest problem on a major exam. Yi Xi felt a strange sense of identity shift.

This young male, he was trying to please him.

How odd. Normally, only females try to please males. For just a little pheromone, they endure whippings, beatings, all kinds of inhuman torment… yet this male, he was trying to please him?

Cointreau’s attitude held no mockery or lewdness. He had not undergone his second awakening and could gain no pleasure from this. As he said himself, Cointreau just wanted to make him comfortable.

This male approached the task with a focus that might even surpass that of exam study. He treated this as seriously as solving a test question, all just to make Yi Xi comfortable.

Yi Xi struggled to describe the feeling. His body was overwhelmed, instinctively wanting to escape, yet his heart felt warm, like soaking in a bath. This sensation made him stretch unconsciously, like being wrapped in a sun-warmed blanket on a cold winter day.

It was warm, and safe.

He called Chu Xiu’s name intermittently: “Cointreau…”

Each time, Chu Xiu responded earnestly: “Mm.”

Finally, in this extreme push and pull, Yi Xi tilted and fainted onto the pillow.

Chu Xiu wiped the sweat from his face, adjusted the blanket, then went out to wash his hands.

Carey watched silently as Chu Xiu left the bedroom, went to the bathroom, and the sound of running water followed.

He was uneasy, unable to sit still.

With the creak of the old hinge door opening and closing, Chu Xiu came out and met Carey’s gaze across the living room.

Carey sat upright on the sofa, a book in hand, unread for a long while. He looked up at Chu Xiu, his eyes traveling across his face before pausing at his damp fingers, hesitant to speak.

He didn’t understand why the difficult Young Master Chu had suddenly brought someone home, didn’t understand why Yi Xi looked as if he’d been drugged, and didn’t understand why the young master would drug Yi Xi on the eve of his wedding.

Was it to humiliate him?

To expose pre-wedding matters publicly and embarrass Yi Xi at the ceremony?

For a female to have pheromonal contact with a male before a wedding was hardly something to praise, even if that male was his male lord.

Yi Xi’s wedding would surely host many high officials and distinguished guests. If the male caused trouble over this, the reputation that the head of the Stellar Group had painstakingly built over decades would be ruined and mocked.

Carey had been sitting in the living room since Yi Xi and Chu Xiu went into the bedroom. He nearly crushed the book in his hands, torn between whether to enter and stop the male’s abuse. He strained his ears to hear what was happening inside, but there was nothing.

Yi Xi barely made a sound. Even as his body was tense like a drawn bow, the restraint typical of a businessman was used in a strange way, leaving only a few muffled calls of “Cointreau” and no other words.

Carey mainly wanted to hear Chu Xiu scold or hit him.

The precious young master of the Chu family was known for tormenting people, giving orders as if directing the world, but after listening for a while, Chu Xiu didn’t make a sound.

Carey felt confused.

Should he tell Chu Xiu that it wasn’t Yi Xi’s fault? He already had. Tell him to ease up because Yi Xi’s body was weak? Chu Xiu didn’t seem to be tormenting him. Blame him for drugging him? Carey didn’t have the courage.

While he hesitated, Chu Xiu had already crossed the coffee table and come to his side. He looked down, picking up a plastic bag on the sofa: “Cordyceps flowers, shiitake mushrooms, and chicken? Female Father, did you go out to buy groceries?”

Carey answered cautiously: “Yes, there was a market at the entrance, so I bought a few things.”

Chu Xiu smiled and put the bag down. “Female Father, although I told Chu Dian to have you look after me, you didn’t need to do these things. We can order takeout for meals.” He pointed at Carey’s arm. “Your arm hasn’t healed yet, has it?”

Yesterday, Carey’s left hand had been twisted while operating the flyer. Today it was a bit better, though still not completely normal.

Carey shook his head. “It’s okay.”

Chu Xiu handed him a medical report. “It seems your self-healing ability is acting up. I just helped you book a hospital check-up. If you’re free, you should go.”

Carey took the report, noticing there were several expensive tests listed. He paused, and the male had already opened the door for him, gesturing politely. “Go on, it’s just about the doctor’s working hours.”

Carey walked out, his expression complicated.

Behind him, Chu Xiu slammed the door shut.

When he issued Carey the medical order, he hadn’t thought much of it. After all, Yi Xi had paid, and Female Father had unfortunately crossed paths with a scumbag like Chu Dian. Helping a little wouldn’t hurt. But now, he was extremely glad he had written that order.

It meant he could legitimately send Carey out, leaving the small apartment just for him and Yi Xi.

The apartment had been rented hastily and wasn’t large, but it had all the essentials. The furniture was arranged warmly. Chu Xiu carried the plastic bag into the kitchen and opened the clay pot to start making soup.

Many people didn’t know that Cointreau’s cooking was even better than his bartending, though none of his previous clients had ever tasted his food, since he always claimed he couldn’t cook.

For Chu Xiu, bartending was work; cooking was life. He liked the way flavors layered slowly as liquids mixed, and enjoyed how ingredients softened under steaming, boiling, or sautéing, but he didn’t like mixing work with life, which was why he had always declined before.

He soaked the chicken in cooking wine to remove the smell, blanched it, and laid it at the bottom of the clay pot, adding cordyceps flowers and fresh ginger, then set it to simmer over low heat.

To make a clear, bright soup, it had to cook slowly on low heat.

By the time Yi Xi woke, the soup was nearly done.

He lay on the unfamiliar yet soft bed, wrapped in a soft blanket, bewildered about where he was or what time is it.

The sudden change in his hormone levels had nearly made him faint, like being drunk. Yi Xi remembered losing control, remembered Cointreau’s accusing gaze, remembered being brought home, and the boy’s innocent, gentle eyes. His body still remembered how it felt, but beyond that… he could remember little else.

What did Cointreau do with his hands, then?

Yi Xi fumbled at the edge of the bed for a moment, found his glasses, and placed them on his nose, finally seeing the room clearly.

The room had a slight countryside style, with cream-colored bedding, a cherrywood wardrobe and bed frame. By the window were blinds, letting sunlight stream through the slats. On the windowsill sat two green plants, freshly watered, their branches and leaves stretching out healthily.

Compared to Yi Xi’s own home, this room felt a bit old-fashioned, lacking any high-end concepts or elaborate design, but it was cozy, warm, and full of a lived-in charm.

This was Cointreau’s home.

He propped himself up on the bed. His suit jacket was neatly folded on the hanger, his dress shoes gone, and at the foot of the bed sat a pair of cotton slippers.

Yi Xi slipped his feet into the slippers. They were the kind you’d find in a supermarket, plush little bears, brown, soft and cute, making him unconsciously think of Cointreau.

Cointreau’s home, the slippers he’d prepared… so where was Cointreau?

He opened the door and scanned the living room, stopping in his tracks.

Cointreau sat on the sofa, seemingly lost in thought.

The boy’s gaze fixed on the empty distance, as if, like Yi Xi, he was confused about what had just happened.

He was still so young, not even having experienced his second awakening. Confusion over these events was natural. Yi Xi exhaled. Though he too was unsettled by what had just occurred, as the older one, it was more important to calm the little one’s emotions.

Yi Xi approached Chu Xiu and half-squatted to meet his eyes. “Cointreau?”

Chu Xiu made a soft “hm” in response.

He kept his head lowered, not letting Yi Xi see his gaze, so that his obedient, sensible demeanor wouldn’t falter.

Playing dumb afterward, this was a trick Chu Xiu had learned from his colleagues.

“Remember, you mustn’t cheer or fawn over them. The best way is to sit on the sofa and play dumb. That way, others will think it’s your first time. you’re innocent, pure, and pitiable, and then the desire to protect you will rise. Luxury cars and watches will come easily.” — Some silver-level bartender.

At the time, Chu Xiu had scoffed at this kind of trickery, heard it once, and forgotten it. But now, after finishing the chicken soup and idling in the living room, he unexpectedly remembered his colleague’s words.

So Chu Xiu decided to put it into practice.

Only… he wasn’t aiming for luxury cars or watches. He wanted Yi Xi’s attention.

Imagine it: seeing a naive, inexperienced young male sitting quietly on the sofa, Yi Xi might soften, might feel protective, maybe even a hint of affection. Then, when Chu Xiu revealed his true identity and shed all the unsavory secrets, there would be a buffer between them.

This goal was clearly achieved. Yi Xi was obviously very focused on him.

He half-squatted in front of Chu Xiu, his expression slightly hesitant. After a moment, Yi Xi spoke gently: “Cointreau, I lost control just now, and I don’t remember the details clearly.”

Chu Xiu said nothing, keeping his head down, playing obedient.

Yi Xi reached out and placed a hand on the boy’s head.

He paused, rubbed that chestnut hair lightly, as if afraid to frighten him, and asked very softly: “You don’t look well… did I bully you?”

This time, Chu Xiu was truly stunned.

He didn’t know how many times his colleague had used this “play obedient” trick, or how the targets usually responded, but he knew there had never been anyone like Yi Xi, crouching down with genuine worry and asking, “Did I bully you?”

Never mind that he himself was a male; nothing had even happened yet. Even if he were on the receiving end, could this really be called bullying?

He shook his head sharply: “No!”

To hell with playing obedient, facing Yi Xi, Chu Xiu simply couldn’t do it.

He realized this was a ridiculously silly idea, sprang up from the sofa like a spring, hastily grabbed the apron lying nearby, and rushed into the kitchen.

“The soup’s done, if I wait any longer, it’ll burn! I’ll serve it!”

The apartment was small enough that Yi Xi could see everything at a glance. Whatever the male was doing in the kitchen, Yi Xi could see clearly.

Cointreau tied the apron behind him, then grabbed a ladle in one hand and the pot lid in the other. His movements were fast, and his little tuft of hair bounced with every motion, as if a wild beast were chasing him from behind.

He impatiently sprinkled some salt into the soup and tried to taste it, scooping up a clear portion of chicken broth with the ladle and gulping it down, then hissed from the burn.

“Careful,” Yi Xi said, stepping to the kitchen doorway. “Let me—?”

Chu Xiu shook his head vigorously, his tuft of hair bouncing with him. “No, no, I’ve got it! Almost done.”

He slammed the kitchen’s glass door shut, keeping Yi Xi outside.

Through the frosted glass, Yi Xi could only make out a blurred silhouette of the boy. Stuck outside the kitchen, he didn’t know what expression to make.

Cointreau really was a strange male.

A male who worked at a bar for money, a male who prepared slippers for him, and now… a male cooking in an apron?

It was hard to say which description was the weirdest. Even calm Yi Xi was momentarily stopped in his tracks.

“All done, all done,” Chu Xiu said, opening the door and carrying the pot to the table. “My female father went for a check-up and didn’t have time to cook, so I did it. I don’t know if it’s any good.”

He handed a spoon to Yi Xi.

Yi Xi thought oddly, “That actually makes some sense.”

From what the male said, he didn’t cook often; his female father usually did. But their family was poor and couldn’t order takeout, so the young one had to learn. Today, the female father just happened to be busy, so Cointreau took on the cooking.

He didn’t expect much from the male’s cooking skills, but he had already prepared words of praise. Young ones always needed encouragement; no matter how it turned out, Yi Xi could drink it with a smile.

But the moment the soup touched his lips, Yi Xi froze.

The rich, fresh flavor bloomed across his taste buds. The hearty chicken broth blended perfectly with the subtle sweetness of the cordyceps flowers, while the tender texture of the shiitake mushrooms completed the harmony. Cointreau’s cooking skills were in no way inferior to a five-star hotel chef.

He looked up; Cointreau was watching him anxiously.

Chu Xiu was confident in his own cooking, but even the best chefs sometimes meet guests who don’t appreciate their food, like a Hunan cuisine chef facing someone who never eats spicy dishes, or a Huaiyang chef serving someone who dislikes sweets. Chu Xiu didn’t know if Yi Xi would like his cooking.

Yi Xi nodded. He had prepared elegant, flattering words. After all, the head of the Stellar Group could make flattery sound like poetry, but facing Cointreau’s shining eyes, all he could manage were three simple words: “It’s delicious.”

And it really was.

Cointreau smiled.

This smile was different from the one he had when they first met at the bar. His beautiful eyes lifted, his cheek muscles pulled up the corners of his mouth, revealing neatly aligned teeth, a smile that came straight from the heart.

Yi Xi paused, silently clenching the soup ladle in his hand. The back of his hand was taut, knuckles turning blue.

He couldn’t stop the thought rising in his mind: “If only I had met him sooner.”

If only he had met this male earlier, if that terrible car accident had never happened, if the ending hadn’t already been decided…

Then he would have bought Cointreau the latest model of aircraft, gotten the best property, served him the finest wine, traveled to the most beautiful places, and finally asked him:

“Cointreau, can you accept a 17-year age difference?”