Mistrust
The butler instinctively reached for his pocket—the handcuff key was still there.
Normally, he would give the key to Su Zesui at bedtime so the boy could change clothes, but he always took it back the next morning.
Occasionally, if he was worried the boy might feel too confined, he’d let the little guy out to play for a while—like he did earlier that afternoon.
But if he had taken Su Zesui back to his room at noon and hadn’t gone back since… then clearly it wasn’t him who released the boy, allowing him to roam freely on the second floor.
So how did Su Zesui manage to unlock the handcuffs and escape on his own?
Just as the butler was racking his brain for answers, Gu Yilan suddenly stood up.
A faint blood-red glint flickered in the man’s pitch-black eyes. His jaw was tightly clenched, his entire body radiating a violent aura—like a wrathful asura stepping out of hell to claim a soul—as he strode toward the study door.
The butler’s face drained of color. He hurried to catch up.
Having worked with Gu Yilan for many years, he knew the man’s temperament—and his bottom line.
To Gu Yilan, the most intolerable things in the world were people and situations that spiraled out of control. He would go to any lengths to achieve his goals, not stopping until everything was firmly within his grasp.
The last time something slipped out of control, Gu Yilan turned the entire situation into a chaotic mess of screaming, confrontation, and madness. The air reeked of blood, thick and suffocating, impossible to forget.
A grotesquely deranged scene—paired with Gu Yilan’s unnervingly calm demeanor.
It was a nightmare the butler never wanted to relive for as long as he lived.
The butler broke into a cold sweat for Su Zesui and couldn’t help speaking up on the boy’s behalf. “Young Master Gu, I think this might just be a misunderstanding…”
Gu Yilan didn’t respond. Standing in front of the side bedroom door, he pressed his hand against the fingerprint lock—and without even inputting the passcode, he forcefully pushed the door open.
At that moment, Su Zesui was seated at his desk, rapidly typing away on his phone.
He was busy studying translation apps when disaster struck from the heavens—his big brother had just informed him that the school’s competition committee would send someone over tomorrow with a “Competition Guidelines” document… and he’d have to sign an honesty agreement on the spot.
He was putting up desperate resistance.
Hearing the door open, Su Zesui turned toward it, confusion written all over his face.
As he turned, his pale wrist was fully exposed to the two figures at the door. It was bare—only a heart-rate monitoring bracelet remained. The cold, slender iron chain was nowhere in sight.
The butler’s heart sank.
He subtly scanned the room—and quickly spotted the lump in the middle of the bed. The missing handcuffs lay tossed carelessly atop the blanket, as if they’d been discarded without a second thought.
Could it be… that the boy was just pretending to be obedient in front of them, but living freely behind their backs?
Even in this deeply suspicious moment, Gu Yilan’s face remained calm and unreadable. He walked up to the boy, looking down from above, an invisible pressure quietly settling over the room.
His dark gaze swept over Su Zesui’s wrist, and he asked in a flat tone, “Why aren’t you wearing the handcuffs?”
Still staring at him in a daze, Su Zesui blinked. His first instinct was to glance down at his wrists.
—They were, indeed, not cuffed.
“Homework,” Su Zesui answered in a small, timid voice. “I forgot.”
Since he had taken the path of physics competitions and later focused on academics in college, Su Zesui had a personality shaped by persistence, diligence, and a deep love for learning. When he didn’t understand something, he would do everything he could to figure it out.
Ever since Gu Yilan had shared that physics paper in the morning, he’d been completely absorbed, diving into the material the moment he got back to his room, skipping sleep and food. In the process, he had genuinely forgotten to put the handcuffs back on.
Hearing this explanation, the butler let out a sigh of relief.
So he’d just forgotten while doing homework—not sneakily hidden a key under his pillow or anything like that.
Gu Yilan’s furrowed brow relaxed ever so slightly. He lifted his chin slightly, signaling the boy coldly to go put the cuffs back on himself.
Su Zesui stood up and jogged over to the bed, picking up the handcuffs he had tossed there at noon.
Only now, at this critical moment, did he realize in dismay that he had rushed off too quickly earlier—and accidentally closed the cuffs. The lock was engaged, and without the key, it couldn’t be opened again.
Holding the cuffs awkwardly, Su Zesui stood there, his mind racing.
From nearby came Gu Yilan’s scrutinizing gaze and the butler’s expectant one.
Hesitantly, Su Zesui lifted the cuffs and slid one hand into the open ring.
His skin was soft and his wrists naturally slender. It took barely any effort to slide it on with a soft click, locking his hand back in place.
He tested the sturdiness of the chain on the other end, then looked up at the two standing in the doorway. His eyes sparkled brightly.
Gu Yilan: …
Butler: !!!?
You—this is even worse than hiding a key under your pillow!
The butler glanced nervously at his boss, only to see Gu Yilan’s dark eyes fixed on the cuffs around Su Zesui’s wrist. His fingers slowly stroked his own thumb, lost in thought.
Moments later, without a word, Gu Yilan suddenly turned around and strode out of the room.
Su Zesui and the butler were left staring at each other, bewildered.
An awkward silence settled over the side bedroom. The butler’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even sure whether to chase after his boss or comfort the confused boy still standing there.
Two painfully awkward minutes passed before Gu Yilan finally returned.
He slammed a glass onto the desk and jerked his chin toward the boy. “Drink it.”
The glass was completely transparent. Inside was a white liquid—thin, not thick like milk. It looked more like some white powder had been stirred into water and dissolved.
“W-what is this?” the butler asked nervously, worried for the boy.
“A control agent,” Gu Yilan replied coolly, as if he were saying “Good morning.”
A chill ran down the butler’s spine. He was about to argue when Gu Yilan slowly turned his gaze toward him, eyes so cold they felt like blades of ice.
The butler flinched and turned away, preparing himself to call an ambulance the moment the boy started foaming at the mouth.
The strange color and even stranger name of the liquid made it sound like something that would rob a person of all independent thought.
Anyone with a hint of self-preservation would treat that cup like a ticking time bomb—tense, suspicious, unwilling to even get close. The entire atmosphere would turn sharp and dangerous, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.
But Su Zesui didn’t even blink.
In his mind, it made perfect sense: the man wanted him under control, so he brought him a drink that would… control him. Logical enough.
He rarely interacted with others and mostly relied on novels to understand the outside world. From what he’d gathered, having a strong desire for control didn’t seem all that unusual.
And he didn’t mind being controlled. In fact, he’d prefer to be controlled to the point of never having to leave his room again.
The only thing he was unsure about… was whether that strange-looking drink tasted any good.
Su Zesui dragged his chain along, stepping slowly toward the desk under Gu Yilan’s gaze. He picked up the glass with both hands.
His lashes lowered obediently as he took small sips of the mysterious liquid, occasionally glancing up at Gu Yilan as if silently asking, ‘Is this enough? Do I need to drink more?’
And just like that, the tense atmosphere somehow turned into a strangely heartwarming scene—like a well-behaved child drinking water under supervision.
The butler: …
Sometimes, he genuinely admired the little master’s ability to shift the mood. He could go head-to-head with Young Master Gu in controlling a room’s energy. The two of them tossed the tone of the scene back and forth like a game.
The liquid in the glass didn’t really taste like anything. It was about as bland as water. Not exactly pleasant, but drinkable.
But Su Zesui had eaten over half a plate of sweet-and-sour ribs that evening—he was already stuffed. He couldn’t even finish half the glass before his stomach protested.
He set the glass down, placed a hand over his now slightly rounded belly, and licked one of his little canine teeth, finally tasting a faint trace of milk in his mouth.
Su Zesui looked at Gu Yilan and said, “I can’t finish it.”
He had barely finished speaking when the man suddenly stepped toward him.
The distance between them closed dramatically.
Su Zesui could feel the heat radiating from the man’s body, and the intense weight of his gaze bearing down on him like a physical presence.
He froze for a moment, then instinctively took a small step back.
Then he heard the man speak, his voice sharp with tension: “You don’t believe me?”
Su Zesui didn’t understand. He still hadn’t figured out why the man had suddenly come to his room.
Was it that he’d finally decided he wanted to marry him and was now officially starting to control him?
“You don’t believe I’ll really control you.”
Gu Yilan narrowed his black eyes and spoke again. His tone shifted from questioning to certain—cool, steady, and full of the confidence of someone used to being in absolute control.
Su Zesui did believe him. In fact, he was kind of looking forward to it.
But he wasn’t sure how to respond. He shook his head, then felt that wasn’t right, so he nodded instead.
Gu Yilan: “…”
“Want to see what your days have really looked like?”
Just as Su Zesui furrowed his brows in confusion, a large hand with well-defined joints placed a phone right in front of his face.
On the screen was a photo of him, sitting in his room, working on homework while happily munching on potato chips. The timestamp was clear in the bottom right corner—a screenshot from the surveillance system.
With no change in expression, Gu Yilan double-tapped the screen and returned to the photo gallery.
In that instant, Su Zesui was met with a flood of surveillance footage.
From eight years ago until now—every year, every month, every day—each room in this house had its own set of recordings. The files were endless, stretching back in time like an overwhelming archive.
“Which day do you want to see?” Gu Yilan’s voice even had a trace of amusement in it, the kind that made your hair stand on end.
Su Zesui thought for a moment, then used his small fingers to scroll through footage from the past three days. Eventually, he tapped on a photo of himself sitting under the camera, cheeks puffed out as he ate.
The butler wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
He finally understood—Young Master Gu was deliberately testing Su Zesui, probing whether the boy truly believed he would go to such extreme lengths to control him.
And yet, Su Zesui met every move with unshakable composure, like a seasoned submissive with nerves of steel—completely unshaken for someone his age.
Gu Yilan took back his phone and sent the photo to Su Zesui via WeChat.
The image, being a screenshot from a surveillance camera, was dark and slightly distorted—one of those photos that would keep a person up at night if they saw it alone.
But Su Zesui was delighted.
It was the first time someone had ever sent him a photo of himself.
He’d been learning a lot lately and knew that receiving a gift meant you should return the emotional favor. It was called “reciprocating.”
He scrolled through his favorites folder, found an appropriate message, and sent it:
[(o^^o): Thank you. I was feeling a bit tired today, but seeing you gave me so much motivation.]
Gu Yilan: “……”
The man tapped a few times on his phone, then unlocked the handcuffs on Su Zesui’s wrists with a key. The metal clicked open and clattered onto the floor nearby.
“GPS and surveillance are turned off. You don’t need to wear the handcuffs anymore. The front door is unlocked. You can try,” he said coldly. “See if you can actually leave this house.”
Su Zesui counted on his fingers, then politely replied with an “Oh,” indicating he heard and understood.
But he had no intention of leaving. He just wanted to curl up in the little corner of his room and happily eat chips.
“If you can leave within three days without me catching you,” Gu Yilan said, eyes sharp, “I’ll grant you one wish. Any wish.”
Upon hearing that, Su Zesui suddenly looked up at the man, his soft lips parted slightly as he repeated, “Anything?”
Gu Yilan gave a low, indifferent “Mm.”
Su Zesui’s heart pounded wildly. He clutched at his chest with a small hand.
Leaving this house would be difficult—but the reward was incredibly tempting.
If he really succeeded, he wouldn’t have to keep struggling through ‘The Art of Social Mastery’ like some roundabout war strategy. He could go straight for the ultimate wish: “Marry Gu Yilan.”
Gu Yilan added, “I’m busy. You only have one chance to escape. If I catch you, there will be punishment.”
Su Zesui immediately thought of the voice recorder and nodded hastily.
Seeing that he understood, Gu Yilan said no more. After briefly applying ointment to the boy’s knee, he left the side bedroom.
The butler, standing nearby, understood the boss’s intentions.
Since handcuffs, control drugs, and surveillance footage had failed to intimidate the boy, then it was time to use a real, suffocating, airtight cage—something that would physically break Su Zesui’s unrealistic “I don’t believe it” delusion.
He wasn’t worried that such relentless, zero-mercy methods might cause the boy to mentally snap.
On the contrary, he suspected their little masochist might thoroughly enjoy it.
. . . . .
The next day, a more tempting goal appeared, and Su Zesui decisively abandoned his passion for academics. Once he found out that Gu Yilan’s research specialty was the most cryptic of fields—quantum mechanics—he gave up trying to crack the enigma of his WeChat Moments.
But timing was everything.
Gu Yilan’s Moments were set to be visible for only three days. If he didn’t comment now, he might never get the chance again. From any perspective, he had to leave a witty, emotionally intelligent comment—even if it was nonsense.
So, Su Zesui reopened Ahoo and looked for the help thread.
But the once treasure-filled post was now completely empty. His soft lips parted in disbelief. He refreshed it several times, but the screen remained blank.
It was really gone. The sky had fallen…
Who—who would do something so evil?
After fiddling with it to no avail, Su Zesui had no choice but to post a new help thread. He uploaded a screenshot of the dense academic paper and asked for advice on how to “appreciate” it.
But it was the kind of cutting-edge research few could understand, so the topic barely gained any traction. The few replies were mostly absurdist jokes.
Su Zesui didn’t really get abstract humor, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He picked the comment he thought sounded the most interesting and copy-pasted it into Gu Yilan’s Moments:
[(o^^o)：That night, English and physics both got drunk.]
The moment he posted his “clever and thoughtful” reply, a message from his older brother popped up—
[Brother: I sent him the address of Gu Yilan’s home. He said he’s downstairs now. Go sign for it.]
Su Zesui glared furiously at the message.
Last night, he’d gotten so caught up in fantasizing about married life that he forgot to keep arguing with his brother.
[(o^^o): No.]
[Brother: Stop dawdling. Go.]
There was a kind of oppressive force that could only come from a big brother’s natural-born dominance.
Su Zesui had no choice. He stood up, took a deep breath, opened the door, and peeked stealthily into the hallway. After confirming no one was there, he sprinted to the front door.
He rose on tiptoe and peeked through the peephole.
Sure enough, there was a young man standing there, holding a document.
Su Zesui found the phone number his brother had given him and texted:
[Uncle, just leave it at the door. I’ll send it to the school myself.]
He couldn’t bring himself to speak to strangers face to face.
He continued watching through the peephole and saw the man bend down to place the document on the ground.
Relieved, Su Zesui silently counted to five in his head. It didn’t feel like enough, so he counted another ten seconds—then he opened the door.
And locked eyes with the young man standing right outside.
Su Zesui: !
The young man was none other than the team leader of the physics competition team from A City No. 1 High School—the same one who had once met with Su Zesui’s father.
People involved in competitions often had a certain disregard for worldly concerns, driven by a pure love for knowledge and a quiet defiance of authority.
He hadn’t come today just to deliver the documents, per Principal Jiang’s instructions. More importantly, he wanted to personally persuade Su Zesui to withdraw from the school-level contest—to give that chance to students who had been grinding for competitions since middle school, but didn’t come from privileged backgrounds.
“Ahem.” The young man cleared his throat.
He knew many rich kids had a habit of looking down on others, so he planned to make a strong first impression—to cut Su Zesui down to size and remind him that there’s always someone better out there, especially in the world of academics.
But just as he was about to speak—
The boy suddenly flinched, his knees buckling slightly, as if he could barely stand.
The team leader froze, instinctively reaching out to steady him.
A stranger’s touch was even more terrifying than a stranger’s stare.
Su Zesui had already recognized the man in front of him as the competition group leader who once scolded him.
He recoiled as if electrocuted, jerking his hand away and stumbling two steps back. His voice trembled uncontrollably.
“N-No…”
Don’t touch me. Don’t come any closer.
Team leader: “…?”
No what? I haven’t even done anything yet?!
. . . . .
Not far away, just around the corner past the foyer.
The butler stood hidden from view, and although he couldn’t see a thing, he still heard the boy’s whimper—and couldn’t help feeling both distressed and angry.
This was their little treasure, their boss’s fiancee—how could an outsider be allowed to scare him like this?
Due to the motion-sensing system linked to the front door, the moment Su Zesui left his room, the household monitoring system showed a new presence. So both he and Young Master Gu immediately knew the boy had gone downstairs.
They’d thought the little master was finally starting his “escape mission”—but it turned out he was just picking up a delivery.
And the “courier” had the nerve to make the kid nearly cry?
The butler was ready to roll up his sleeves and charge out to see what was going on, but unfortunately, the man beside him remained perfectly calm and motionless. His expression gave nothing away.
Gu Yilan, tall and upright, was standing at just enough of an angle to see past the corner. He tilted his head slightly and watched the trembling boy from a distance, his black eyes swirling with a heavy, unreadable emotion.
The butler couldn’t help asking, “Young Master Gu… What are you thinking?”
What are you thinking? Why aren’t you stepping in to protect your fiancee?
Gu Yilan narrowed his eyes slightly and retracted his gaze. He looked down, rubbing the calloused pads of his fingers, and replied in a low voice, “I’m thinking…”
He paused for a moment, as if weighing his words.
Then, with a faint lift of his brow—like reciting a quiet curse—he continued softly, “…whether he’s afraid of people.”