Drunk (1/2)
Su Zesui couldn’t even remember how he got back to the office.
All he recalled was that after boldly saying those words, everything went white. The air in the conference room felt sucked dry, like he couldn’t breathe, like something was squeezing his chest.
But very quickly, a tall figure in black stepped in front of him, shielding him completely from the crowd, and from his panic and fear.
His legs gave out beneath him. He nearly collapsed, but the man caught him in time, half-carrying, half-dragging him back to a private office where no one else was around.
. . . . .
“Feeling better?” Gu Yilan stood in front of him, eyes lowered, his tone unreadable.
In the familiar, safe space of the office, Su Zesui’s eyes slowly came back into focus.
He rose from the chair. Once he regained his senses, his first reaction was to wrap his arms around Gu Yilan and softly say, “Brother, I… we…”
Gu Yilan felt the boy’s small hands wandering over his abs. His gaze darkened. He grabbed Su Zesui’s wrist and asked, “Su Zesui, do you even know what it means to like someone?”
The boy fell silent. He stopped moving.
Gu Yilan let out a quiet breath. He was just about to speak again when the boy murmured, “Liking someone means… blushing when you see them.”
Su Zesui was actually recalling something Gu Yilan had once told him.
He had a great memory—especially for things that felt important or meaningful to him. He remembered every word of that old conversation and had spent the rest of the time just trying to piece his reply together.
He spoke earnestly: “Liking means my heart beats faster, and I constantly want to see your cold, expressionless face every moment of every day.”
Gu Yilan: …
This time, he was silent for even longer.
He stepped back to break the hug, grabbed a bottle of water from the cabinet, and downed half of it before speaking again—his voice hoarse: “What exactly do you like about me?”
Now that question was a bit harder for Su Zesui.
His ability to process emotions wasn’t great. He’d only learned what “liking” really meant ten days ago, let alone figured out why he felt that way.
So he blurted out: “You’re… a great scientist.”
Gu Yilan was momentarily stunned. He didn’t reply. Instead, he picked up two volumes of <Advanced Physics Problem Sets> from the desk and set them in front of the boy.
“This series is tough. If you get stuck, just ask me. I promise you—I’ll teach you, no matter what. All the way until you make it into the CPhO.”
He emphasized “no matter what,” but Su Zesui didn’t catch the underlying meaning.
The boy nodded, opened one of the brand-new books, and said sweetly: “Thank you, Brother.”
Gu Yilan looked at him and asked, “What did you just call me?”
Su Zesui blinked, a little dazed, but instinctively replied: “Brother.”
“I’m just like Su Mingyu—we’re both your brothers. Would you want to sleep with Su Mingyu too?” Gu Yilan paused slightly on the last few words.
Su Zesui’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly shook his head.
“Do you even know what that means?” Gu Yilan asked.
Su Zesui did—but was too embarrassed to say it out loud. He lowered his head, face flushing red, and fidgeted with his fingers.
Gu Yilan gritted out his next words between clenched teeth: “It means I’d throw you onto the bed, strip off all your clothes, and no matter how much you cry or beg, I wouldn’t stop—until I was satisfied.”
His face stayed expressionless, even cold—but the tips of his ears had turned red. His voice dropped low, pausing between each sentence.
Su Zesui, on the other hand, was too shy to even look up. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice any of that.
He thought seriously for a moment, then figured—If being with Mr. Gu forever meant he had to… make a little sacrifice, then maybe it wasn’t that bad.
Gu Yilan, seeing how the boy kept his head down and clearly looked terrified, decided to ease up. He was ready to let the matter go and give the impulsive kid a gentle lesson instead.
But Su Zesui suddenly took another step toward him, standing extremely close. He propped himself up on Gu Yilan’s arm and slowly leaned in on tiptoe. Within just a few seconds, his soft lips were nearly brushing against Gu Yilan’s face.
A flicker of strange emotion passed through Gu Yilan’s eyes. He raised his hand to block him.
But because they were so close, the back of his hand inevitably brushed against the boy’s lips—delicate and soft, like the petals of a peach blossom kissed by spring dew.
Su Zesui couldn’t stay on his toes any longer. After being gently blocked, he obediently stepped back and stood still, no longer making a move. Instead, he stared fixedly at Gu Yilan.
Standing that close to the man, he could feel the heat radiating off Gu Yilan’s body—much warmer than it had been during their usual hugs.
Then all of a sudden, Su Zesui, who had been a bit slow to react, finally noticed a change in the man’s body. His gaze slowly drifted downward, landing on a certain unspeakable area. His lips parted in shock.
——It was even more terrifying than before.
Now, he genuinely didn’t know if he could handle it.
This private office came with a small, attached bathroom.
Gu Yilan silently ground his molars and turned to head for it.
In a flash, Su Zesui didn’t think anymore—he reached out and grabbed the man’s arm.
The muscles in Gu Yilan’s arm were tense, veins bulging. All that explosive strength was now being used to hold himself back.
“I—I’ll help you,” Su Zesui said, his face red as he gestured up and down with his other hand. “I’ve learned how.”
He was afraid of going in unprepared and dying from the pain, so he didn’t dare give himself up just yet. But he could at least use his hand to help Mr. Gu.
Gu Yilan’s temple twitched. He exhaled lightly and replied firmly, leaving no room for argument: “Let go. I don’t need your help.”
Su Zesui looked at him with concern but obediently let go.
Before stepping into the bathroom, Gu Yilan didn’t forget to lecture him: “And in the future, you don’t need to help with things like this either.”
“You should go look at your study guide,” he added, closing the bathroom door behind him.
Su Zesui’s head felt like it was tangled in thread—messy and impossible to sort out. There was no way he could focus on any study problems now.
He glanced at the closed bathroom door, then idly drew circles on his scratch paper with a pen, his mind echoing with what Gu Yilan had just told him.
——Was he still not being forward enough?
Su Zesui didn’t check the time, so he had no idea how long Gu Yilan stayed in the bathroom. But to him, it felt like at least forty or fifty minutes.
——That long… he’d die.
When Gu Yilan came out, he turned on the bathroom exhaust fan and closed the door behind him. His expression had returned to normal.
“I’ve got a dinner meeting tonight. I’ll have the driver take you home,” he said.
Su Zesui nodded.
He didn’t dare go to any dinner meeting.
“Brother,” Su Zesui asked, “when will you be back?”
Gu Yilan paused for a moment. “Later. Go to bed by yourself when it’s time.”
This meaningless dinner was just another time-wasting social event. Normally, he would have turned it down without hesitation.
But considering the fire he hadn’t been able to put out even with cold water earlier, perhaps both he and Su Zesui needed a bit of time alone to cool down.
“Clean up after yourself,” Gu Yilan said, lifting his chin.
Usually, he was the one tidying up the desk, packing Su Zesui’s schoolbag, unwrapping takeout, picking up packages. But now that things had come to this point, it was time for the boy to start becoming more independent.
Only after Su Zesui finished packing his little blue backpack did Gu Yilan finally head toward the door.
As soon as they stepped outside, they ran into a professor at the other end of the corridor, surrounded by a group of students in deep academic discussion.
Gu Yilan glanced back at the boy, who looked lost in thought, and said, “I’ve got something to do. Wait here for me.”
Su Zesui nodded and gave him a small wave.
The professor wasn’t far—just close enough that their figures were visible with a glance, but not so close that any words could be heard.
As soon as Gu Yilan walked over, the group immediately fell silent. Their expressions showed both fear and thinly veiled curiosity. But knowing Gu Yilan, they were 99% sure he wasn’t going to bring up the topic they were all dying to know more about.
After all, dealing with gossip through cold silence and letting things die out on their own was the most efficient, low-cost method.
However, after greeting the professor, Gu Yilan suddenly broke from his usual coldness and, in front of everyone, got straight to the point:
“My little brother was talking nonsense tonight. I’ve already spoken to him about it.”
He said it with a faint smile, lightening the mood. But if one looked closely at his slightly downcast black eyes, there wasn’t even a hint of amusement in them.
Faced with so many people, the savvy professor took the hint and offered him a way out: “That kid of yours—is he even an adult yet? At his age, it’s normal for hormones to run high. Watching things online they shouldn’t… happens to everyone.”
Gu Yilan pressed his lips together, then did something rare—he admitted fault. “I failed to teach him properly.”
The professor glanced at his watch. It had been nearly an hour since Gu Yilan had dragged the boy out of the conference room. Looking over at the teenager not far away, who was staring down at his toes, it was clear he’d been lectured for the entire time.
The professor patted Gu Yilan on the shoulder and said, “It’s normal for kids to make mistakes. A simple lesson will do—don’t be too harsh.”
Gu Yilan said nothing.
The professor led the group away, leaving behind a reflective Gong Chuang and Ji Yuxing, who had agreed to have dinner with him that night.