Promise (1/2)
“Gong Chuang…” Gu Yilan ground his back teeth and was about to turn off the projector, but the boy suddenly grabbed his hand.
“Brother, don’t turn it off, please,” Su Zesui said, staring at the man before him with misty eyes. “Show you something else, something really good that you’ll like.”
After saying that, he immediately lowered his head and started searching on his phone, finally selecting a video titled [Cat x Rabbit, Gentle Romance · Kissing Expansion, Extra Long—Nine In Nine Out Sweeping the Battlefield].
Su Zesui showed Gu Yilan the video and proudly said, “This one’s my favorite.”
Actually, he hadn’t really watched it.
But as long as it was “gentle,” he liked it—much more than the previous one.
He had to let Mr. Gu know what kind of thing he liked, otherwise he’d be the one suffering later.
Hearing the words “favorite,” Gu Yilan paused in his steps, silently cursing Gong Chuang countless times in his mind.
——“Favorite?” How many had you actually watched?
While he hesitated, Su Zesui quickly cast the video onto the projector in front of them.
This “gentle” video was indeed much calmer than the previous one, with plenty of foreplay; the younger partner didn’t immediately start crying or kicking wildly.
Gu Yilan clenched his fist slowly, his Adam’s apple moving up and down, but he didn’t turn off the projector. Instead, he sat down beside the boy to see what kind of things he had been secretly watching.
The video’s foreplay was long, starting with just kissing and touching. Su Zesui turned his head with satisfaction and repeated to the person beside him, “This is my favorite.”
“What do you like about it?” Gu Yilan squinted his eyes, watching the two bodies tangled together, his tone dark and vague.
“I want to do it with you,” Su Zesui said eagerly.
A heat spread over Gu Yilan, his black eyes deep and unreadable: “…Why me?”
Su Zesui put one hand over his chest, leaned against him, closed his eyes, and said excitedly, “Like it. So happy.”
Gu Yilan: …
There was no way to reason with this little drunkard.
After drinking, Su Zesui became restless and clingy, sticking to Gu Yilan.
But suddenly, as he was groping and getting excited, he felt the scratch marks on the man’s forearm and immediately stopped, asking, “Brother, what happened to your arm?”
Gu Yilan glanced indifferently at the scars and said calmly, “An old injury, I’ve told you the reason before.”
“Helping an old lady cross the street?” Su Zesui rubbed his chin, murmuring to himself.
Gu Yilan: “Yeah.”
Su Zesui pointed at the other arm, puzzled: “Isn’t this where the injury is?”
Gu Yilan looked away: “…You remember wrong.”
Su Zesui was sure he was right, but couldn’t find proof. He lowered his head, blew gently on the scratch on the man’s forearm a few times, then looked up at him worriedly.
The boy’s warm breath, tinged with alcohol, brushed over the skin, sending a wave of hot tingling.
Gu Yilan pressed his lips together, calmly withdrew his arm from the boy’s embrace, and said, “Stop blowing on it. It’s long healed. Doesn’t hurt.”
“Brother Gong Chuang already told me about the surveillance…” Su Zesui mumbled unclearly.
Gu Yilan didn’t react much, just raised an eyebrow and said, “What? You feel sorry for me? Want to make it up to me?”
Su Zesui’s bold move was far beyond what he expected.
Only after he stood in the park, feeling the cold wind, did he realize that the boy hadn’t run away probably because he had developed some kind of special feelings for him.
But even if he wanted to, he couldn’t bear it. And he didn’t understand where these feelings came from or why.
Su Zesui nodded and repeated, “I feel sorry.”
“I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me,” Gu Yilan frowned and said slowly and clearly, “Because I enjoy it. I don’t intend to change.”
Su Zesui didn’t know how to respond, so he just pointed at the part of the projection that needed to be pixelated and invited, “Let’s do it together.”
On the screen, after the foreplay kisses, one person already mischievously extended two fingers and picked up a small bottle nearby, ready for the next step.
“Fine.” Gu Yilan looked at him expressionlessly and warned, “Take off your clothes.”
Su Zesui took a moment to understand the man’s meaning, then without hesitation grabbed the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off.
Gu Yilan held his wrist and growled through clenched teeth, “You just do whatever someone tells you to?”
Su Zesui was stunned, his little head unable to process for a moment, then nodded weakly.
Gu Yilan reached out, “Give me your phone.”
Obedient Su Zesui handed it over, and Gu Yilan tapped a few times, permanently deleting 20 GB of study materials from his cloud storage. They could never be recovered.
Su Zesui: “No!”
Gu Yilan tossed the phone back and said coldly, “No what?”
“These were sent to me by Brother Gong Chuang.” Su Zesui became a babbling mess, “If you delete them, how am I supposed to study? I’ll cry so hard…”
“Your good Brother Gong Chuang,” Gu Yilan gritted his teeth, “is dead meat tomorrow.”
Seeing the boy still clutching the phone and crying without tears, Gu Yilan unlocked his own phone, opened a certain website, and handed it to him: “I’m going to shower. You watch this for a while.”
Hearing this, Su Zesui dropped his phone, took Gu Yilan’s, and stared blankly at the surveillance footage.
“Come on, let’s see what they’re up to now.” Gu Yilan swiped across the screen, a faint smile tugging at his lips but no humor in his voice.
With a few simple operations, the phone locked onto the target, popped up a warning telling them Mother Gu wasn’t home, then showed a study room surveillance feed. A middle-aged man wearing glasses sat behind a large desk, flipping through documents.
If it weren’t for the different books on the bookshelf, Su Zesui would have seriously suspected that Father Gu was in the study next door, going through some documents.
“Oh, I see,” Gu Yilan said flatly, but his words were chilling, “He’s working, not watching what we’re doing.”
“Brother, how about we—”
Gu Yilan withdrew his hand, expecting the restless boy to dodge the conversation, but instead heard him quietly say, “Let’s just do it.”
Gu Yilan: …
With an icy expression, he picked up the nearby pajamas and strode silently into the bathroom.
Leaving the boy alone, sitting on the bed in a daze, lost in thought.
——Where exactly is the problem?
Su Zesui threw his arms wide and flopped onto the bed, tossing and turning again.
Listening to the long sound of water running in the bathroom, with his head already muddled like mashed paste, Su Zesui became even more confused.
After tiring himself out from tossing, he groggily picked up his phone and, filled with sorrow, posted a moment—
[I just insist on liking someone. I am who I am, a different kind of fireworks.]
Moved by his own words, he let out a long sigh, then rubbed his tired eyes and aimlessly started scrolling through Ahoo.
Whether the sobering soup would help his hangover or not, his head still felt heavy. He wanted to jump around the room wildly and cling to Mr. Gu, nibbling and biting. So he could only vent his energy on his phone.
Unfortunately, for some reason, the big data recommendations today were really disappointing—mostly boring stuff like business news, politics, and policies that made him want to fall asleep.
So Su Zesui decided to search for things himself—
[How to make a cold and ruthless man like you?]
[How to recover deleted data from cloud storage?]
[What to do when you like someone too much?]
Seeing Ahoo’s answer to “If you like someone, then just be with that one person. Can you be with half a person or something?” Su Zesui’s eyes widened—his mind just couldn’t figure it out.
So he tried another search—
[How to have sex with someone you like?]
This time, Ahoo immediately popped up a red box saying, “Sorry, your question violates community guidelines and cannot be displayed.”
Su Zesui huffed loudly, exited Ahoo, and reopened WeChat to post another moment complaining about Ahoo.
Since changing his WeChat ID, he really liked posting moments.
After all, there were hardly any friends on this account. The few who were there hardly scrolled moments, mostly middle-aged and elderly people, his big brother who silently liked his posts, and Mr. Gu.
Basically, the moments he posted were mainly for his brother—Mr. Gu—to see.
But this time, just as he opened Moments, he saw several unread likes and comment notifications.
Su Zesui scratched his head in confusion and clicked in—
[Gong Chuang: ??? After all these years? Finally lost it??]
[Ji Yuxing: What’s going on? Drunk?]
[Gong Chuang: Did that naughty kid take your phone?]
At that moment, Su Zesui hadn’t quite realized what was happening and even nodded vaguely.
He really did lose it, he really was drunk, and indeed Mr. Gu trusted him enough to let him see his phone.
How did you all know?
Until the next comment—
[Su Mingyu: Su Zesui, what are you guys doing? Give the phone back.]
Seeing his full name called out, Su Zesui jolted awake a bit from his drunken haze and instinctively looked at the commenter’s profile picture.
It wasn’t his silly handcuff doll, but a casual snapshot of the sunrise.
Suddenly, it hit him—he didn’t even have Ji Yuxing on WeChat; actually, he had long ago saved Su Mingyu as “Big Brother”…
So this WeChat…