Coming downstairs
At 6:00 PM, right on time for dinner, Gu Yilan finally arrived home.
With no interference from the boy this time, the dishes on the table were perfectly normal.
However, the grand dining table stretched the length of the spacious living room, giving off a sense of loneliness and emptiness.
As a luxury mansion located in one of the most expensive areas of City A, the dining room was designed to impress. The long central table featured intricate gold inlays and a European classical design, making the space feel even more expansive.
Yet guests were rare here. Every meal, Gu Yilan sat alone at the far end of the table, his posture straight and tall, with no one else around.
Except for earlier that day—at lunch—when a beautiful young boy sat beside him, eating with his head down, swinging his pale little legs and sneaking glances at him from time to time, looking both happy and content.
Noticing his boss take the main seat at the table, the butler, ever observant, offered a reminder: “Little master is in his room. It’s almost dinner time—one of the maids was just about to bring up his meal.”
As he spoke, he carefully watched Gu Yilan’s expression, trying to read any hint of emotion.
But Gu Yilan’s dark eyes were as unreadable as ever—cold, deep, and devoid of warmth. Even when he raised an eyebrow, it was impossible to tell if it meant interest or icy sarcasm. He was impossible to figure out.
“Should I…” The butler asked tentatively, “ask the little master to come down and eat with you?”
Gu Yilan replied simply, “No need.”
The butler tried to sense the man’s emotional tone, guessing that he cared—but not that much.
So he reassured him, “The maid will bring enough food for him. And I think he likes what’s on the menu. Every time I check in, he’s eating quite happily.”
He was hoping his boss would praise him for handling things well—but instead, Gu Yilan raised an eyebrow and said, “Happily?”
“Don’t bring him dinner tonight.”
The butler: ???
Wrong again. He was completely confused.
Gu Yilan then opened WeChat and, in a commanding tone, sent Su Zesui a message:
[11th Dimension]: Come down and eat with me.
The butler stood by and watched as, just a few minutes after Gu Yilan put down his phone, a fair-skinned boy appeared at the staircase landing, bouncing down the stairs with light footsteps.
The boy’s cheeks were rosy, and his long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings.
He jogged over and naturally sat down beside Gu Yilan. His soft lips parted slightly as his eyes sparkled at the sight of the delicious food on the table—
There it was—his favorite sweet and sour ribs!
“Thank you,” Su Zesui said in a small voice, tilting his head and covering his mouth slightly like he was whispering in class to a desk mate.
Gu Yilan: “……”
Judging by the sudden shadow in Gu Yilan’s gaze, the butler suspected he was seriously considering whether it was too late to send the boy back upstairs.
But Su Zesui remained completely unaware of the heavy atmosphere and picked up his chopsticks, ready to eat happily.
He had, however, a bad habit he’d developed as a child: bitter first, sweet later.
When he was three, his parents died in a car accident, and his older brother was barely in his early teens. During those years, they lived under others’ roofs, constantly moving and often going hungry.
The rare food they got was usually plain rice or bland cabbage and potatoes—stuff no kid liked. But if they didn’t eat, they wouldn’t survive.
So Su Zesui had gotten used to eating the things he disliked first, saving the good stuff as a reward to look forward to—
Just a bit more… and then I can eat my favorite part.
The habit stuck with him for years. Even when he had plenty of food, he never broke it.
Like now, even though sweet and sour ribs were his absolute favorite, he didn’t touch a single piece. Instead, he picked at the surrounding dishes—some wilted cabbage, mushy potato slices, bits of soggy tofu…
Gu Yilan noticed his behavior.
The boy didn’t seem picky—he ate everything, except the ribs, which he actively avoided.
Gu Yilan’s brow lifted slightly. He picked up the plate of sweet and sour ribs and set it down in front of the boy with a thud, his tone sharp and unquestionable: “Eat it.”
The moment the words landed, Su Zesui jerked his head up in shock, staring at him wide-eyed.
Gu Yilan’s piercing gaze swept across the boy’s stunned face. His lips curled into a faint, malicious smirk. He pointed his chin at the plate and said coolly, “What are you looking at? Eat.”
…First the daily schedule, then clothing, and now even food.
What comes next?
Su Zesui’s hand clenched slightly around his chopsticks.
But looking at the glossy, fragrant ribs in front of him, he couldn’t resist. He hesitantly picked one up and took a bite.
And to his surprise, the moment he was forced to eat something delicious, all the guilt, anxiety, and subconscious dread in his heart melted away.
Only one clear thought remained: I’m going to finish this.
So the inner turmoil vanished—and that sweet and sour rib became the most delicious one Su Zesui had ever tasted.
His eyes tingled slightly. He pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Gu Yilan.
To show sincerity, this time he didn’t copy and paste—he typed every word out by hand.
But Gu Yilan never checked his phone during meals, and it was set to “Do Not Disturb.”
So the message was sent into silence, completely ignored.
Su Zesui puffed up his cheeks, chewing his meat bite by bite while his little mind turned quickly, thinking.
A moment later, inspiration struck.
He recalled a video he had seen before on “Social Anxiety Desensitization Training”: from a first-person perspective, someone had to sing and dance directly in front of five people while they stared expressionlessly, unmoved, even slightly disgusted…
Not ten seconds later, Gu Yilan’s phone, which was sitting on the table, buzzed with three loud beeps.
The man frowned slightly, glanced at the boy, and then picked up his phone to check—his eyes landing on a spiked, abnormally high heart rate reading.
“So excited?”
Before he could say anything else, a WeChat message popped up on the screen—
[(o^^o): If you keep being like this, I might really fall in love with you.]
Gu Yilan: “………”
His gaze darkened. He slowly raised his eyes to look at Su Zesui.
The tone of the message was flirty and teasing, but the boy’s innocent face showed no expression—he was focused entirely on eating, chewing meat with puffed cheeks. His thick eyelashes cast shadows beneath his eyes, making him look even more childlike.
Gu Yilan put down his chopsticks, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His tone was casual but carried a chilling edge: “You like it that much? Then finish all of it.”
“You’re not going upstairs unless you clean your plate.”
His cold gaze bore down on Su Zesui with a watchful intensity.
Su Zesui figured the man must have been moved by his high-EQ reply—so much so that he’d rather not eat himself, just to make sure this emotionally intelligent boy got his fill.
He didn’t dare slack off. He picked up his chopsticks and buried his head in his food.
But his appetite was small. Before long, his belly was round and full, and he couldn’t eat another bite.
Yet somehow… his hand wouldn’t stop. Even when he felt like he was about to burst, he kept thinking, just one more… just one last piece.
In the end, the man next to him snatched the chopsticks out of his hand.
Gu Yilan looked conflicted. He casually tossed the chopsticks on the table and signaled the butler to clear the dishes. Then he turned to the boy and jerked his chin. “Go do your homework.”
That slight interruption finally snapped Su Zesui out of his out-of-control eating spree.
Looking back at the scene just now, there was only one way to describe it—
Painful, but oddly joyful.
He nodded obediently, took the napkin the butler handed him to wipe his mouth, and darted upstairs.
He still wanted to take another look at the research article in Gu Yilan’s social media post.
Gu Yilan remained seated, replaying in his mind the image of the boy emotionlessly shoving meat into his mouth, cheeks puffed out, eating until he nearly gagged, yet never stopping. His dark eyes, already cold, seemed to freeze over even more.
“The little master really listens to you,” the butler said cautiously. “You were probably just scaring him a bit, but he still…”
One glance from Gu Yilan was all it took for the bootlicking butler to immediately shut up.
Even though the man had barely eaten himself, he had no appetite at all. He stood, gaze landing somewhere in the distance, and after a few seconds, he headed toward the second floor.
The butler, after sending a message to the staff to clear the table, quickly followed him.
Gu Yilan sat down at the wide desk in his study.
He pulled out his phone, opened Ahoo again, and returned to the post Su Zesui had made.
He wanted to see exactly where the boy was picking up all those strange, nonsensical ideas.
In just two days, the help post had already gone viral—marked “HOT”—with tons of replies offering suggestions.
Gu Yilan skimmed through the top replies.
Then he saw one telling the boy to climb into his bed and “make it official.”
Gu Yilan: “……”
His expression darkened. He tapped the post, then hit Report.
But the thread was crawling with creeps—sleazy men subtly flirting with the boy, others sharing ridiculous, shady “strategies,” and some just hijacking the topic to brag about how they chased their own boyfriends.
It was a complete mess.
Gu Yilan cast a glance at the butler and said coldly, “Get me the strictest content reviewer for this post.”
As his personal butler, the man had connections and resources to leverage on his behalf.
Without delay, he contacted a special reviewer from Lvxing Literature Network and also pulled some strings to access Ahoo’s internal moderation system. Under Gu Yilan’s directive, the post was subjected to an aggressive content review.
Five minutes later, the thread was considerably cleaner—and thinner. Most of the replies had disappeared.
Once the matter was settled, the butler bent forward slightly, as though sharing a secret, and asked softly:
“Young Master Gu, don’t you think the little master’s emotional perception is a little… weak?”
Hearing this, Gu Yilan lifted his gaze from his phone and raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly giving silent permission for him to continue.
The butler rested his hand under his chin, striking a thoughtful pose, and said earnestly, “I believe Young Master Gu should take a more aggressive approach. Only then can we see significant results in a short time.”
Gu Yilan’s raised brow arched even higher. For once—rarely—he showed a flicker of interest.
That barely noticeable flicker of interest was enough to make the butler excited.
Because it meant that, for once, his line of thinking was aligned with his boss’s.
Feeling confident in his plan, the butler pulled out a document and handed it over with both hands. “This is my secret weapon to get twice the results with half the effort. I guarantee the effects will be immediate.”
Gu Yilan took the document and glanced down—
A full A4 page, densely printed with lines of dialogue… and notes.
- No closing your eyes. Look at me. I’m going to tie you up, one rope at a time. (cold, sinister smile)
- What’s wrong? Can’t bear to be apart from me? (teasing eyes, sleazy tone)
- Good boy. You know what to do, don’t you? If you mess up again, there will be punishment. (wicked smile)
. . . . .
In the bottom-right corner of the page, a watermark hadn’t been removed:
‘Exclusively provided by a professional dirty talk training website.’
Gu Yilan: “……”
The person who most deserved to be dragged into a dark room… was standing right next to him.
The butler seemed to catch a hint of murderous intent in his boss’s expression. Bracing himself, he weakly tried to explain, “It’s… very effective.”
Gu Yilan’s fingers tightened around the paper, crumpling the pristine white sheet with deep creases.
Seeing this, the butler panicked and quickly changed the subject. “Y-Young Master Gu, it’s about time… Shouldn’t we go apply medicine to Little Master Su’s knee? You’ve been busy all day. Since I brought him back to his room at noon, no one’s checked on him…”
He hadn’t even finished speaking when he suddenly heard a sharp rustling—his “secret weapon” had been crushed into a paper ball and coldly tossed to the floor.
The butler’s heart skipped a beat, and every hair on his body stood on end.
In daily life, whether it was about academics or work, no matter how outrageous the situation was, Gu Yilan always remained calm and composed. He was like the stabilizing anchor of the team, reassuring everyone. It was as if nothing in the world could ever shake his emotions in the slightest.
The butler never imagined such a trivial matter would actually make his boss this angry.
But before he could think more about it, a low voice floated over from nearby:
“So no one’s checked on him since you brought him back at noon?”
“Then how did he come downstairs tonight?”
Gu Yilan’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a chilling weight. Hidden beneath it was an unmistakable undercurrent of anger—cold and oppressive—enough to make even the most composed person break out in a cold sweat.
The butler froze.
Only then did he realize—
He and the boss each held one of the handcuff keys.
But during dinner, they’d both been at the table.
So how had the cuffed little master managed to happily come downstairs all on his own?