WCHM Chapter 27

The camera lenses flickered with tiny overlapping dots of red and green.

 

In the past, whenever Lu Chi faced cameras, he was always dressed in finery, standing on stage with flowers or trophies in his arms, effortlessly basking in the adoration of countless fervent gazes.

 

But now, Movie Emperor Lu Chi was not being idolized by the masses, and in front of him wasn’t a swarm of media or fans.

 

Before him stood nothing but a wall of silent surveillance cameras.

 

And one man who could speak, but was too busy fantasizing about him while working himself with his hands.

 

Liang Jiashu looked like an unprofessional director of a third-rate porno, utterly shameless. He stood a short distance away, brazenly aroused by the handsome protagonist at the piano, voice hoarse as he ordered:

 

“Teacher Lu, play for me.”

 

Lu Chi: “……”

 

Absolutely obscene! Perverted to the point of absurdity!

 

Lu Chi brushed back his bangs, pale fingers resting lightly on the black-and-white keys. For some reason, he almost wanted to laugh. Twenty-seven years of life, and he had never thought he’d go from professional actor to pornographic film lead. A normal person, upon realizing they were being recorded, would be terrified and would flee immediately from that jealous madman.

 

But as the saying went… Since we’re already here… Lu Chi didn’t mind acting out a porn scene.

 

And a very filthy one at that.

 

The lighting was dim. His eyelids lowered halfway, gaze rippling like a tide of seduction, flowing straight into the camera’s eye. But in the next instant, he deliberately feigned dullness, as soft wetness laced with a hint of innocence covered his eyes, pretending at purity.

 

Liang Jiashu froze. Then, he heard Lu Chi’s deliberately husky, feigned-confused murmur: “Director Liang, what do you want to hear me play?”

 

The tone was breathy.

 

Like some third-rate actor clumsily trying to seduce the director.

 

But because Lu Chi was too beautiful, it only provoked the man’s most savage instincts. Liang Jiashu’s breathing turned heavy, the title making his grip on the phone falter. He was hard enough to press up against his own lower abdomen.

 

“Fuck.”

 

The phone tumbled onto the carpet with a dull thud.

 

Lu Chi hadn’t even held the act for two seconds before Liang Jiashu tossed the phone aside with a blank face, striding forward to slam him down across the piano. Jagged notes clashed out all at once, sounding like the start of some forced-porn scenario.

 

“Ah!”

 

Lu Chi couldn’t help a startled laugh that came out as a cry, which only made Liang Jiashu’s towering frame close in, rough fingers prying open his lips, forcefully toying with that crimson, pliant tongue.

 

The feel beneath his fingertips was slick.

 

The young man’s Adam’s apple bobbed, looming over Lu Chi with frightening lust gleaming in his eyes, a hunger so overwhelming it twisted into an eerie kind of calm.

 

He rasped between clenched teeth: “Where did you learn this?”

 

Lu Chi’s acting instincts kicked in. He deliberately widened his eyes as if terrified, glancing nervously at the rows upon rows of cameras behind him. His hands pressed against Liang Jiashu’s palms, breath hitching in mock panic, trembling as he pleaded: “Director, please… they… they’re all watching…”

 

Fuck.

 

Liang Jiashu had never seen Lu Chi like that.

 

Frightened, yet debauched.

 

Even knowing he was faking, the beast of control, possession, and feverish lust inside him broke loose, devouring his chest whole. He couldn’t help gripping that radiant face harder, leaning in to bite out each word: “You love being watched so much, so why pretend to be pure now? Lu Chi, do you enjoy luring men this badly?”

 

He was losing his mind.

 

As if that really was some bustling film set, with him as the corrupt director, abusing power and pressing down on his actor in public, intimidating and forcing him.

 

Pinned by those calloused hands, Lu Chi shook his head, hair brushing against Liang Jiashu’s wrist and driving him crazy. He stretched out his tongue, reddened from the rough handling, and, while swallowing messily, he mumbled through gasps:

 

“I didn’t! I’m not… please let me go, mm…”

 

His face looked frightened, but his knee lifted, brushing suggestively against Liang Jiashu. Moist, amorous eyes peeked through his palm, lifted in a calculated glance.

 

…Fuck.

 

Liang Jiashu felt like he was really losing it.

 

Without another word, he crushed their mouths together. Teeth and lips clashed, skin burning against skin, heat transferring until it was impossible to tell whose fire was whose.

 

Lu Chi gasped again, playing the ruined victim, immersed, yet still struggling, shoving and clawing as if to reject him. A fake-innocent wantonness covered his expression, teasing while dodging the wall of cameras.

 

“Director, back there… someone’s watching… mm…”

 

But Liang Jiashu only grew more excited. So excited, it turned frightening.

 

Suddenly, with a blank face, he clamped a hand over Lu Chi’s flushed lips, arm muscles taut to the brink, his breath searing as if aflame. His mind flashed back, back to the day he’d first added Lu Chi on WeChat, and the first time he’d received a selfie.

 

That day, he’d held Lu Chi’s photo in his empty bathroom and jerked off. But now, Lu Chi was right here, in his house, in his grasp.

 

The thrill was unbearable. He wanted to chew him up and swallow him whole.

 

The palm clamped over Lu Chi’s mouth left only his small face and a pair of glistening eyes visible. Liang Jiashu’s hand was hot and damp. His other hand was quick and deft, making Lu Chi’s breathing heat up despite himself. The upturned corners of his eyes flushed a vivid crimson from the waves of pleasure, radiant and dangerous.

 

Liang Jiashu’s dark eyes stayed fixed on him, pupils shrinking, clearly imagining some new way to vent himself.

 

Lu Chi arched a brow. The next second, he shuddered, lashes trembling in disorder as his expression turned timid and resistant. But it only turned Liang Jiashu on so much that his Adam’s apple jerked violently.

 

Lu Chi stilled, only to see Liang Jiashu suddenly stop what he was doing, rise blank-faced, and yank the nearest camera toward them. The piano bench clattered over in the process, and the cold black lens flashed with a ghostly light, as though behind this silent room lay a thousand eager, hidden eyes watching.

 

Liang Jiashu clamped Lu Chi’s chin, forced him to face the camera, and ordered in a hoarse, icy tone:

 

“Say to it: you like being kissed by Liang Jiashu.”

 

“……”

 

Lu Chi cooperated with a muffled whimper, ears burning red.

 

“I… I like being kissed by Liang Jiashu… mm…”

 

“You like being held by Liang Jiashu.”

 

“I like… being held by Liang Jiashu…”

 

“You like being filmed by Liang Jiashu.”

 

“I like… being filmed by Liang Jiashu…”

 

“And…”

 

The lust-heavy rasp cut off abruptly as the dim room went silent. After a moment, Liang Jiashu spoke again, his voice unnervingly calm:

 

“Say, you like Liang Jiashu.”

 

“……”

 

“Say you love Liang Jiashu.”

 

“……”

 

Lu Chi froze, and time stretched. The cameras still blinked their tiny red and green lights, but no one spoke, as dead silence spread like a shadow. The thick scent of desire still lingered in the air, and the echo of fevered breaths seemed to hover at their ear, but now only quiet filled the space.

 

Like the awkward lull after a cigarette, except they hadn’t even properly started yet.

 

Lu Chi tried to turn his head, but the man behind him pinned his jaw in place. He stilled, then smoothly, effortlessly stripped away his mask of timidness, tossing it aside like a discarded prop.

 

The acting teacher had said it before: Lu Chi’s skills were real.

 

His fame as a movie emperor wasn’t built on marketing hype, and his near-blind fan devotion wasn’t just because of a beautiful face. To reach the very pinnacle of the industry, Lu Chi had relied on ninety-nine parts talent and ninety-nine parts effort.

 

Along with his sharp gift for empathy, he had a razor-thin, clear line inside him.

 

Separating performance from reality. Separating the screen from life. Even in this novel world, he separated the original plot from what was now real.

 

But Liang Jiashu couldn’t.

 

He knew nothing of Lu Chi’s true origins, but he could still sense that occasional distance, that detachment. Like a butterfly straying into a dead wilderness: no matter how naturally it fluttered, it stood apart from the dull, grey surroundings.

 

Because it was vivid, brilliant.

 

Alive with color.

 

Liang Jiashu couldn’t blame a butterfly for being so dazzling, nor deny the inevitability of his own attraction. But often, he couldn’t tell.

 

Couldn’t tell if he was truly special to Lu Chi… Or if, on some idle night, out of countless avatars clamoring for attention, Lu Chi had simply lowered his eyes and tapped on his name at random.

 

That maybe Liang Jiashu had only been lucky enough to be the one allowed to hold him.

 

The thought filled him with a strange, unprecedented calm fear.

 

Liang Jiashu knew he wasn’t normal.

 

But after having Lu Chi, his controlling urges had only grown more neurotic, his jealousy deeper by the day. Love brought pain with it, but pain was a richer fuel, making every second of Liang Jiashu’s love for Lu Chi more than the last.

 

He obsessed over every moment when Lu Chi’s body responded to him, each time sending him spiraling into uncontrollable ecstasy.

 

But once apart, once even a single minute passed without seeing him, fear would crawl back in. A type of fear that gnawed at him, driving him toward sickness. He couldn’t bear any gaze that lingered on Lu Chi, or anything that drew Lu Chi’s attention elsewhere.

 

Because it made him think: they’re more interesting than I am.

 

So Liang Jiashu wanted to kill them all.

 

If only this world were fake. Then he could stay here forever, in this apartment, holding Lu Chi. Together, always. Shielded from anything outside.

 

The world might be nothing but a bubble.

 

But it didn’t matter.

 

As long as Lu Chi was real, that was enough.

 

The man behind him suddenly reached out and silently wrapped his arms around Lu Chi’s shoulders.

 

His arms were long and lean, easily encircling the pale, jade-like man in his hold. Lu Chi felt the searing heat of breath on the back of his neck, felt his bones ache faintly under the force of that grip. Liang Jiashu’s strength was too much, his embrace unyielding, his silence unbroken…

 

…But his head stayed buried against Lu Chi’s shoulder.

 

And for once, he really did seem his age, just twenty.

 

Lu Chi gave a smile that resembled every inch of an older lover’s indulgence. After a pause, he tilted his head lazily and called out, “Director Liang, did you get stuck on the scene?”

 

“……”

 

After a beat, Liang Jiashu lifted his head and pressed a hard kiss to the shell of his ear, proving he hadn’t frozen.

 

“Continue?”

 

“I thought you went soft.” Lu Chi turned in his burning-hot embrace, raised a brow, and met his eyes.

 

To bring up love halfway through foreplay, that was terrifying.

 

But soft? Impossible.

 

Liang Jiashu didn’t appreciate that kind of joke. His body was the only reliable way to please Lu Chi, and he would never allow himself to make a mistake, never allow himself to lose Lu Chi’s interest. Instead, he only held him tighter, pressing their scalding heat flush together.

 

Everything about them, urgent and undeniable, collided at once, and the air grew sticky and wet once more. Lu Chi couldn’t help a muffled groan, breath catching, as he heard Liang Jiashu rasp with grim certainty: “Lu Chi, I could never go soft.”

 

Anyone who could wilt in front of Lu Chi’s face didn’t deserve to live. Better yet, they should just drop dead on the spot.

 

His breathing was heavy, muscles taut from the occasional jolt of friction. Lu Chi laughed again, panting lightly against his ear: “Then what scene does the director want to shoot next?”

 

He leaned in and teasingly licked the corner of Liang Jiashu’s lips, like a fox spirit tempting a devout priest into sin.

 

“Director… you seemed to really enjoy that scene.”

 

The one where he’d played the frightened innocent victim, shrinking from the camera. Liang Jiashu had been abnormally aroused, pupils blown so tight he looked like he’d swallowed an entire bottle of Viagra, strength and arousal surging to excess.

 

He was especially into it.

 

Liang Jiashu said nothing, but didn’t deny it either. His burning breath only pressed forward, nipping and licking at Lu Chi’s lips. Lu Chi squinted under the kiss, half-smiling, half-taunting: “So you really want to do me that way.”

 

Forced. Helpless. Timid but still debauched.

 

The cameras were still blinking.

 

Liang Jiashu gave a low, hoarse grunt and dropped to his knees without hesitation, mouth moving over Lu Chi with practiced fervor, as though it were an apology for his earlier violence. Lu Chi tilted his head back, fingers threading into his hair, feeling the almost self-destructive urgency of his motions. His sweat-dampened eyes froze for an instant, just as Liang Jiashu’s scalp stung.

 

In the next moment, Lu Chi’s hand clamped tight around his throat and shoved it in, sudden and merciless. A suffocating force surged down on Liang Jiashu, sharp pain flooding into the haze of lust…

 

At the same time, his blood-engorged arousal was crushed under an unyielding foot.

 

Lu Chi loomed above him, hand locked around his neck, scarlet tongue flicking across his own lips as he smiled languidly.

 

“Come on. Say it to the camera.”

 

The youth’s dark pupils shrank, his body twitching from the sudden chokehold, breath staggering, his nerves firing wildly. He could hardly hear the words. A slap cracked across his face, then a hand yanked him back in place. Even knowing Liang Jiashu’s throat was blocked, making speech impossible, Lu Chi still ordered him with cold indifference:

 

“Repeat after me.”

 

“Liang Jiashu likes Lu Chi.”

 

“Even if Liang Jiashu dies right here, he must die loving Lu Chi.”

 

The next second, the youth’s body jerked, chest convulsing, and a strangled groan tore free from deep inside as he came.

 

 

………………

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