Chapter 2987: Taming the Willful 04

Chenshu knelt on the ground, every part of his body aching, but all those pains combined couldn't match the shock of those words; he flinched back half an inch, instinctively covering his crotch with both hands—a quick, panicked motion, his voice urgent and sharp, the trailing tone breaking.

I don't!

Jin Chen watched him, his posture like facing a formidable foe, and let out a muffled laugh from his throat.

You've taken advantage of many privileges as my partner—why aren't you fulfilling your duties?

Chenshu's face flushed red with anger, the redness spreading from his ears down to his neck, as if scorched by fire.

His lips twitched a few times; only one thought filled his mind.

This old man is simply a pervert.

No, not a pervert, but something even more terrifying—a good-looking face with none of a normal person's feelings, a cold-blooded creature.

Old man! If you can't hold it in, go find someone to sleep with!

Jin Chen couldn't be bothered to argue with him.

He bent down, grabbed Chenshu's arm with one hand, his strength immense, like seizing a chick, and effortlessly lifted the still-struggling Chenshu off the ground.

Chenshu's legs kicked a few times in the air, his knees striking Jin Chen's thigh, but Jin Chen didn't budge, as if hit by a cotton ball.

He dragged Chenshu toward the bedroom's big bed, his leather shoes clicking on the marble floor. Chenshu twisted and struggled desperately in his grip, but all his resistance against Jin Chen's strength was like a mayfly trying to shake a tree.

The bedroom door was pushed open, and Jin Chen flung Chenshu onto the bed.

Chenshu's back sank into the soft mattress before he could roll over and get up; Jin Chen leaned over, one hand pressing on his shoulder, the other not removing his tie but looping it twice around Chenshu's wrist and fastening it to the bed's headboard.

Chenshu's wrist was secured above his head; he strained twice, but the knot of the tie held fast, actually tightening further.

"What are you doing! Let me go! You pervert! Old man!" he shouted, legs kicking wildly on the bed, knees lifting and dropping, wrinkling the sheets into a mess.

Jin Chen half-kneeled on the bed, his suit pants straightened by the pose, outlining the firm muscles of his thighs; he reached out and grabbed Chenshu's flailing ankle, his five fingers closing just enough to encircle the thin ankle completely.

Chenshu's ankle was slender, his skin pale; beneath the thin skin lay blue veins and prominent bones, creating a stark visual contrast in Jin Chen's large hand—knuckles distinct, fingertips calloused, as if it could crush that ankle entirely.

His other hand seized Chenshu's waistband, yanked it down in one smooth motion to his calves, revealing the dark boxer briefs inside and two straight, slender legs.

Chenshu's legs were shapely—firm thighs, slender calves, and eye‑catchingly white; looking lower, the bruise on his knee stood out starkly against his fair skin, truly a mark from kneeling.

"No…… I can't!"

Chenshu was flustered and at a loss, even feeling a hint of grievance.

His repertoire of insults suddenly became impoverished, cycling through only those few words: "You bastard! Dog man!"

Jin Chen ignored his nonstop harsh words, his gaze dropping to Chenshu's left leg; about three finger-widths above the knee lay a red birthmark, stark against his pale skin.

Jin Chen's fingertip pressed onto it—not a tattoo, not drawn on, but a birthmark, a mark he'd borne since birth.

His fingers were rough, the pads bearing thin calluses; as they brushed the soft skin, even the faintest sensation was magnified, making Chenshu's breath almost stop.

He realized Jin Chen wasn't doing anything unspeakable, but was verifying that the birthmark was genuine, confirming he was the person Jin Chen sought, confirming he hadn't been swapped, confirming he was the child entrusted to Uncle Nine.

Chenshu felt a relieved sigh, stopped cursing, but his brows knotted tighter, his whole face spelling out 'I'm unhappy' in large letters.

"You're terrifying!" he shouted, his voice loud and fierce, though the tail end trembled slightly; paired with his pretty face slightly twisted by anger, he looked like a small animal bullied badly, clearly outmatched yet baring his teeth in a feigned show of ferocity.

Jin Chen glanced at him and finally released his restraint.

He sat up, got off the bed, pulled two tissues from the box, slowly wiped his fingers, then dialed an internal line: "Send up some blood‑activating, stasis‑dispelling medicine."

After hanging up, Jin Chen turned and walked toward the bathroom.

Chenshu closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly.

When he opened his eyes again, there was little emotion left; he pushed himself up with his arms, tore off the ripped pants, tossed them aside, then walked to the sofa, feeling inside Jin Chen's overcoat pocket for cigarettes and a lighter.

He lit a cigarette, walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window, and gazed at the night scenery outside.

The smoke blurred on the glass, obscuring the reflection.

Bathroom.

The man in the mirror had an overly intense face, brows pressing down on his eyes, lower three‑whites, pale irises—he looked utterly devoid of affection and desire.

Jin Chen lowered his head, turned on the cold water and splashed his face; droplets trailed down his brow bone, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing a spot.

That soft, warm touch lingered on his fingertips, as if it couldn't be washed away, along with those bright brows and eyes, that angry face.

Jin Chen's eyes deepened a shade.

At the same time, Chen Gai, who had received the call, was pacing back and forth in the hallway.

The boss actually ate it all clean!

Chen Gai stood in the hallway for a moment, pulled out his phone, and had someone go downstairs to the pharmacy to buy the blood‑activating, stasis‑dispelling ointment.

The boss is married!

The boss really has a wife now!

The boss probably doesn't need him to keep watch tonight… wait, he never had to keep watch anyway.

Chen Gai shook his head, pressed the elevator button, and prepared to go down to fetch the ointment.

The bathroom door opened; Jin Chen stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, and saw Chenshu sitting on the bed, knees bent, head lowered as he applied ointment to his knees, legs drawn together.

Under the light, those legs were long and straight, skin fair, the bruise on his knees strikingly conspicuous—like two crushed petals fallen on snow.

Hearing the movement, Chenshu turned his head and glanced at Jin Chen.

Jin Chen had just finished showering, his hair still damp with droplets trickling down the tips, only a towel around his waist; his abs were tight, his broad shoulders and narrow waist forming an inverted triangle, his hips exceptionally sexy, he held his phone to answer a call, his brows and eyes sombre.

Chenshu stared at him for a few seconds, then lowered his gaze to look at his own stomach.

He too had abs, but not as pronounced as Jin Chen's; after all, he was only twenty, his frame not fully developed, his build lean, muscle definition present but lacking Jin Chen's powerful feel.

"Tsk." Chenshu pursed his lips and muttered softly, "Old man, your physique is amazing…"

When the ointment was finally applied, Chenshu screwed the cap back on and tossed it onto the nightstand.

He straightened his legs, examined his knees, confirmed the ointment had mostly been absorbed, then nodded satisfied.

Only then did Jin Chen finish his call, walk over, stand beside him, lower his head to take a look—the edges were still a bit red and swollen, indeed looking rather pitiful.

Jin Chen gave it just one glance, then looked away.

「You can get lost. 」

Chenshu lifted their head to look at him, eyes wide: 「Ah? 」

「You made me like this—where am I supposed to go now! 」

Jin Chen glanced at him, the meaning of that look was probably…

What's it got to do with me?