Romantic
Feeling discomfort, Su Zesui instinctively tilted his head back, moving away from the endless demands of Gu Yilan’s lips, his gaze dropping in confusion.
Sure enough, he reacted again.
He looked up, about to ask what to do, when a sudden sense of weightlessness hit him. In the blink of an eye, Gu Yilan had scooped him up horizontally.
Tensing, Su Zesui grabbed the man’s arm with one hand, clutching the oxygen cylinder with the other, unwilling to let go.
Gu Yilan’s Adam’s apple moved as he spoke, his gaze deep and steady. His steps were measured as he carried Su Zesui upstairs.
The distance from the first-floor living room to the master bedroom was not short, and Gu Yilan didn’t rush. Over those few minutes, the mist in his black eyes gradually cleared, and his gaze regained focus, a hint of lucidity returning.
Su Zesui was laid gently on the soft bed of the master bedroom. When he tried to continue the intimate gestures from before, Gu Yilan subtly avoided him.
Closing his eyes and furrowing his brow, Gu Yilan shook his head slightly, as if trying to bring himself fully back to clarity.
“Have some oxygen.” Su Zesui handed over the cylinder he had been holding carefully, prepared for Gu Yilan.
“I’m fine.” Gu Yilan’s voice was hoarse, each word heavy.
As he spoke, his pupils struggled to focus, and the blood-red between his lips and teeth was painfully vivid.
Staring at Su Zesui’s lips, swollen almost to the point of splitting, Gu Yilan finally whispered hoarsely after a long moment, “Sorry. I lost control.”
“No.” Su Zesui shook his head. “I did it willingly.”
Gu Yilan asked, “Do you want to think about it some more?”
“Think about what?” Su Zesui asked in confusion.
“You were too impulsive earlier. Think about whether you really want to agree.” Gu Yilan’s speech alternated between fast and slow, as if he wanted to finish quickly but was restrained by some inner pain. “It’s better to decide after your memory fully returns. I may not be as good as you think. I’m giving you a chance to change your mind.”
Gu Yilan, the type who should always seek the safest path, was letting the other continue speaking even while aware that, given his current mental state, he wasn’t fit to hear Jiang Jianbai talk about the past. A large part of it was because Su Zesui was listening.
He wanted the boy to know his past, to know his flaws.
“I’ve decided.” Su Zesui stared at the sudden sensations in his lower body, knelt upright on the bed, and reached to undo Gu Yilan’s clothes—an action meant to show his resolve.
Gu Yilan’s temple twitched. He pressed down on the boy’s hands, his voice restrained yet shaky: “Are you uncomfortable? Do you want to handle it yourself first?”
He pressed the boy’s hands down and strode out of the master bedroom. His intention was obvious.
In a moment of panic, Su Zesui called his name for the first time: “Gu Yilan.”
Gu Yilan stopped, his eyes hollow as he looked at him. He must be nearing the edge of his mental endurance.
“My brother said… there’s an interview in a few days. I was scared and wanted to refuse. But now, I’ve decided to go,” Su Zesui said. “I still don’t fully understand whether ‘I’ am really ‘me,’ but since you say I am, I believe it. I’ll try to overcome my social anxiety and live normally here too.”
Even someone as intelligent as Gu Yilan could only barely manage to listen through Su Zesui’s words during this episode. There wasn’t energy left to fully grasp the boy’s meaning.
He weakly curved his lips and said, “Good boy.”
“I’ll be strong. So, you’re not allowed to use the knife either.” Afraid he would leave again, Su Zesui reached out, “Give me all your folding knives.”
Gu Yilan pressed his lips together, staying in place. Though he didn’t move, at least he didn’t leave.
“You promised me. No more hurting yourself.” Su Zesui lifted his palm again. “Give them to me.”
Gu Yilan smiled helplessly, went to the nearest locked drawer in the desk, took out a folding knife, ensured the liner lock was secure so the blade wouldn’t accidentally spring open, and then headed toward the office area not far away.
He walked slowly, turning over things in hidden corners that Su Zesui had never felt any curiosity to explore.
A few minutes later, with a “clatter,” Gu Yilan placed several folding knives in front of Su Zesui, his voice raspier than before. “That’s all there is in this room.”
The cold metallic knives contrasted sharply with the soft bed, and some of the handles were even stained with dark, dried blood—a truly shocking sight.
Su Zesui lowered his eyes, feeling sad.
There were too many knives for him to carry with both hands, so he covered them all with a pillow first. “Then you stay here for now.”
Gu Yilan let out a soft exhale. After a long pause, he muttered, “Mm.”
Su Zesui tugged at the man’s wrist, pulling the standing Gu Yilan to sit beside him. He leaned in close. “I’ve really thought it through. I like you too, and I want to be with you.”
Gu Yilan lifted his eyelids and looked at him. “Su Mingyu told you not to agree yet.”
Su Zesui froze for a moment. “H-how do you know?”
Gu Yilan said casually, “It’s written on his face.”
“Mm, doesn’t matter. Anyway, I declare it—we’re already together.” Su Zesui puckered at him. “So if you feel uncomfortable, don’t bite yourself… just kiss me instead!”
Gu Yilan asked, “You’ve really thought it through?”
Su Zesui felt that during his episodes, Mr. Gu had a kind of… insecurity that he didn’t usually show.
It felt strange to describe it this way, but he couldn’t help feeling it: normally, Mr. Gu seemed all-powerful, capable of handling everything and letting others rely on him. But now… he seemed to need his protection!
“I’ve thought it through. Absolutely no regrets. You said you liked everything about me before, and I… I feel the same,” Su Zesui said firmly, wanting to give him reassurance.
His gaze dropped to a certain spot on himself, and he added, a little shyly, “And, um… last time, you made me feel really good. I want that again.”
Gu Yilan’s eyes curved slightly as he picked up a glass of water from the bedside table.
His hand trembled uncontrollably, and the glass wobbled dangerously. Su Zesui hurriedly took it from him. “What are you doing?”
Gu Yilan sat back down beside him. “Rinsing your mouth.”
As he spoke, his hands were restless, pressing against the boy’s chin, pinching his soft cheeks with thumb and forefinger, inspecting his mouth. “Your mouth is full of blood.”
“Mmm… it’s your blood.”
Su Zesui shook his head, breaking free from the man’s grip. Following the principle of “if you pinch my face, I’ll pinch yours too,” he reached to examine Gu Yilan’s wounds.
Before his fingertips could touch him, Gu Yilan self-consciously parted his thin lips slightly. “It’s stopped already.”
Su Zesui gave him a thumbs-up, took a sip of water himself, and then fed Gu Yilan some water from the glass.
After rinsing, before Su Zesui could ask what came next, he was kissed again.
This time there was no taste of blood, so he had energy to notice other things—like Gu Yilan’s unusually high body temperature, which set his whole body aflame, his heart pounding like a drum.
He knew Gu Yilan had a high tolerance for pain. If it were unbearable, he wouldn’t show the slightest sign of discomfort. The pain he was enduring must be far greater than what he was revealing.
It seemed that the uninvited guest sent by Gu Yilan’s parents had truly caused him a lot of suffering.
Before Su Zesui could dwell on it, a large hand with thin calluses gently landed on him, following the familiar route, touching the places that felt awkward to him.
Su Zesui’s mind went completely blank, like fireworks were exploding inside—every thought instantly vanished.
He didn’t want to just enjoy being served every time. He wanted to act like Gu Yilan did downstairs. Trembling, he reached out with both hands, moving them clumsily.
But the results were surprisingly good. Through their clothes, he could feel their hearts racing in sync, beat after beat, plucking at his chest like a harp.
Used to learning step by step, Su Zesui was meant to take it slowly—but before he could even learn this particular move, Gu Yilan had already drained all his energy.
His fingertips quivered. He exhaled long and slow, letting go, and collapsed back on the bed.
——No more learning. Couldn’t do it anymore. No strength left.
Hearing the man get up, Su Zesui used his last bit of energy to lift his arm, thinking of another way he could help while lying down. “Don’t… go. I… I can help you. Just… gently.”
Gu Yilan grabbed a stack of tissues to wipe his hands, sat back down beside the boy, and held his outstretched hand. “Okay.”
Because of the episode, his control over his body was temporarily impaired. His hand trembled slightly, but his strength remained fully intact.
Su Zesui’s hand was held the entire time, forced to move automatically without him exerting a single ounce of effort.
It was efficient, yes—but it took a long time. Su Zesui was already exhausted. Even though his hands were burning, his eyelids couldn’t stay open. “Mmm… sleepy.”
Just as he was about to faint from exhaustion, Gu Yilan finally released his aching wrist. “Done.”
Feeling the tissue brush against his palm, Su Zesui buried his flushed face into the pillow. “W-we’re not going to do the things in those videos, right?”
Gu Yilan replied, “You’re still too young.”
Su Zesui protested, “I’m an adult. I’m not a child.”
Gu Yilan wiped his hands and said, “Brother’s legs still hurt. I can’t do anything too strenuous right now.”
“I’ll help you apply medicine every day,” Su Zesui replied.
Gu Yilan was silent for a moment before finally conceding, “Alright… after your interview, I’ll think about it. Consider it a reward for you.”
Su Zesui’s own pillow had been used to cover the folding knife, so now he could only lie on the man’s pillow.
He hadn’t fully understood what Gu Yilan meant, and the next second, he felt himself being hugged from the front.
Gu Yilan rested his head on the same pillow as him, his lazy, low voice close to Su Zesui’s ear. “Want to sleep together for a while?”
“Still uncomfortable?” Su Zesui stared into those dark, misty eyes, trying to read the pain hidden within.
It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. The man didn’t even have the energy to open a window for fresh air—he just lay down, exhausted and in obvious torment.
“Much better,” Gu Yilan said hoarsely, closing his eyes, and soon drifted into sleep.
Su Zesui’s head was heavy, his arms and waist sore, but he nestled into the unguarded man’s embrace, found a comfortable position, and closed his eyes as well.
. . . . .
Three long hours of “napping” passed, and they woke almost simultaneously.
Su Zesui had had another dream—he dreamt of Gu Yilan in a parallel world, sending money to his account every month without fail and often checking with a voice recorder whether it was enough.
It was a rare, sweet dream about another universe. Su Zesui slept soundly, his smile never fading.
When he woke, he squinted at the man, lying side by side and incredibly close. Thinking back on what happened before sleep, a belated shyness crept over him.
He brushed against Gu Yilan’s fair, slender leg, unsure whether to move or stay still.
After these few hours of natural cooling-off, Gu Yilan’s body temperature had finally returned to normal. His eyes were still deep and dark, but now they could focus again, no longer clouded by that thin mist.
This was Gu Yilan’s first episode without resorting to bloodletting.
Once Su Zesui confirmed that Gu Yilan was fully conscious, he quickly traced the man’s face with his eyes.
Gu Yilan’s features were sharp and striking—deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, thin yet sensual lips, and well-defined contours, sculpted as if carved. At this moment, his long lashes were slightly lowered, and he looked at him calmly, though it was unclear whether he was recalling the chaotic events from before sleep.
Though his appearance hadn’t changed, Su Zesui felt something was different. Covering his racing heart, he stared at Gu Yilan.
But how could he compete with Gu Yilan’s calm composure? Within minutes, he grew embarrassed and, in a bid to break the tension, blurted out his dream. “Um… were you my benefactor before?”
Gu Yilan looked at the boy’s soft, swollen lips and said in a low, hoarse voice, “Maybe.”
Noticing the man’s unabashed gaze lingering on his lips, Su Zesui finally realized what had changed—
His relationship with Gu Yilan was different now.
Tentatively, he leaned closer. Seeing no resistance, he lightly kissed Gu Yilan’s cheek and pulled back, blushing. “Still uncomfortable? Are you also yourself in the parallel world?”
“Not uncomfortable. Yeah… I guess that’s me too.”
A faint smile tugged at Gu Yilan’s lips. Now fully awake, he even had the energy to casually explain something to the boy: “Once you regain all your memories, maybe I can recall the events from the other world too. I’m curious what kind of relationship we had there—benefactor and child?”
Su Zesui blushed but asked in surprise, “You can remember too? Why?”
“To travel between parallel universes, one must open the ‘door’ to the other world. Currently, only our team is doing this experiment,” Gu Yilan explained. “In other words, I opened the ‘door,’ and the explosion gave you the ‘push’ to travel through time and space. This shows… we have a deep bond even in the other universe—quantum entanglement, shared memories, and…”
His eyes darkened, and he paused.
Impatient to hear the rest, Su Zesui couldn’t contain his racing heart. He hugged the man and planted a loud kiss on his face.
Gu Yilan smiled. “Besides, the me from the other world is probably no longer there, just like you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to get here.”
“Not there anymore? Are you a traveler too?” Su Zesui asked, puzzled.
“Maybe,” Gu Yilan replied, brushing the topic aside. Then he shifted the conversation. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about something ever since you said you were a traveler. I just didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to pressure you.”
Su Zesui looked at the man, whose expression had grown slightly serious, and asked nervously, “What is it?”
“You asked me before why I was so determined to study physics,” Gu Yilan began. “I told you it was because, from a certain day in my childhood, something small but impossible to ignore appeared in my heart, pushing me to keep researching. I used to call it a sign from God. But now, looking back—”
He looked into Su Zesui’s clear eyes and said earnestly, “Maybe… you are my God.”
Su Zesui’s lips parted slightly, and he stammered, “I… you mean… it’s because of me?”
“Yes,” Gu Yilan said. “You’ve studied quantum mechanics. You should know that even across vast distances of space and time, two paired particles can affect each other. When one moves, the other moves instantly. Maybe when you were calling for me in another universe, I could somehow feel it too.”
Su Zesui sighed, impressed. “Romantic.”
Gu Yilan continued, “These words tie you and me together. I was planning to wait until you made your decision before telling you.”
Su Zesui, who was prone to tears, was inexplicably moved. “You… you really are a good person.”
The boy always giving him the ‘good person’ card, Gu Yilan said helplessly, “Do you know what I was thinking when I saw you trying to run away yesterday?”
Su Zesui froze for a moment.
He remembered that day, in the lab filled with expensive instruments. He had felt guilty and scared, expecting a harsh scolding. But instead, Mr. Gu simply asked why he was running and kindly carried him home. It had touched him deeply.
Su Zesui fiddled with his fingers and quietly asked, “What… were you thinking?”
Gu Yilan squinted and teased, “I was thinking about whether I should just lock you up in a little room, chain you to the bed, and feed you on schedule. That way, you’d never escape again and only I could see you.”
“I…” Su Zesui shifted a little on the bed, then wrapped his arms around Gu Yilan and whispered, “I’d like you even more then.”