Don't You like Little Dogs? Now that I'm Taking Liberties, You're Suddenly Reluctant? - Chapter 20

Pei Ye’s move back was so simple it was almost hurried.

His personal belongings were few to begin with, and most of them remained at the First Division garrison. The Adjutant was highly efficient; by that afternoon, he had sent over Pei Ye’s essentials, including new clothing and equipment that suited his current status.

Standing once again in the bedroom he had barely lived in, the feeling was entirely different. The decor had been completely updated no longer the furniture of a child, but a brand-new set that matched his Master’s style. It was no longer a temporary stopover; it was the place where he was permitted to exist, the position closest to his Master.

On his first night back, he moved toward the kitchen out of habit to prepare a drink, only to see Jiang Si and the Adjutant who had arrived at some unknown time sitting on the sofa in low conversation. Seeing him, the Adjutant gave a slight nod before continuing his report.

Pei Ye stood silently at a distance. As the new assistant, he needed to learn new duties and boundaries. After the Adjutant left, Jiang Si rubbed his temples, appearing weary. He looked at Pei Ye. “Can you brew coffee?”

Pei Ye blinked, answering immediately, “Yes.”

“Brew two cups. Make them strong,” Jiang Si commanded, his tone natural, as if Pei Ye had never left.

Pei Ye walked into the kitchen. As his fingers touched the cold coffee machine, he felt his heart fill with an unprecedented, scorching sense of fulfillment. He was back. No longer a pup needing protection, nor just a blade thrown out to be sharpened. He was the assistant, the presence closest to the core of power, the sharpest and most trusted weapon in his Master’s hand.

Pei Ye quickly adjusted to the daily routine of being Jiang Si’s assistant.

Mission handovers, classified file transfers, scheduling, security protocols… these tasks were tedious yet vital. He handled them with meticulous efficiency, gradually forming a cold, sharp style that mirrored Jiang Si’s own, distinct from the Adjutant’s.

He remained Jiang Si’s most intimate shadow, a bodyguard who never left his side, alert to the slightest disturbance. Occasionally, when the First Division received a mission so difficult it required the “monsters” to mobilize, Cang Jun’s cold voice would crackle through the comms: “Fourth Brother, I need to borrow Sixie.”

Jiang Si would usually give a flat assent.

Pei Ye would then temporarily set aside his duties as an assistant, returning to the First Division as their sharpest blade to raise hell with his former teammates. Once the mission was complete, he would return silently to Jiang Si’s side as if he had never left. This transition felt entirely natural to him; whether acting as an assistant or a blade, the core of his existence was serving the same person.

In the New City, men of the underworld often had tattoos symbols of belonging, intimidation, or belief. This was especially true within Skeleton.

Pei Ye’s body had previously held only old scars. Now that his status had changed, his sudden appearance at the tattoo parlor on the third basement level, a place frequented by organization members wasn’t entirely unexpected.

The tattoo artist was a silent old man whose face was a map of scars. The shop was thick with smoke and smelled of disinfectant and pigment. Several burly men currently getting inked straightened up when they saw Pei Ye, nodding with a touch of reverence. “Brother Night.”

Pei Ye, expressionless, walked straight to the back room and pulled off his shirt, revealing a lean, powerful torso. He pointed to his chest, directly over his heart, his voice level: “Here. English. Jiang Si.”

The tattoo artist paused, confirming, “Brother Jiang’s name?”

“Mm.” Pei Ye closed his eyes, saying no more.

The cold needle pierced his skin, bringing a fine but persistent sting. Pei Ye endured it without a flicker of emotion. With every prick, the name seemed to be carved deeper into his blood and bone, branded in the place closest to his heart.

It was an intensely private declaration, a twisted form of possession. He could not truly possess the man, but he could mark his own body and soul as the other’s property. It brought him a morbid sense of stability and satisfaction. The pain was part of the ritual, and he savored it.

Because it is Master, it is allowed.

A few days later, in the training room of the First Division garrison.

After a high-intensity session, Pei Ye was drenched in sweat. He pulled off his soaked black tank top and began wiping himself down with a towel, sweat glistening over the taut lines of his abs and back.

Cang Jun pushed the door open, seemingly looking for Wind Hawk. His gaze swept over Pei Ye and stopped abruptly on the boy’s chest. The black English letters were freshly scabbed, standing out starkly against the cold white skin and the sheen of sweat.

Cang Jun arched an eyebrow, his expression turning rare and playful. “Look at you, Sixie.” He walked closer, arms crossed, scrutinizing the tattoo. “Jiang Si… Fourth Brother’s name? What made you think of this? Showing your loyalty?”

Pei Ye’s movements faltered for a second. He grabbed a clean training shirt and pulled it on, hiding the mark. “I just felt like it,” he said flatly.

Cang Jun watched his evasive movements and his unchanging, icy face, suddenly finding the situation interesting. He leaned against a machine and fished out a cigarette. “Say, kid… you couldn’t possibly like Fourth Brother, could you?”

The training room fell silent, save for Pei Ye’s slightly heavy breathing. Just as Cang Jun was about to change the subject, he heard a voice very low, but incredibly clear.

“…Yes.”

The cigarette nearly fell out of Cang Jun’s mouth. He snapped upright, looking at Pei Ye in disbelief. “…Sixie?”

Pei Ye had finished dressing and was adjusting his cuffs with his head down. His profile was cold and hard, but the tips of his ears were a faint, nearly imperceptible red.

Cang Jun was genuinely stunned. He hadn’t expected an affirmative answer. It was absurd and dangerous. Who was Fourth Brother? He was the king standing atop a mountain of corpses, cold, ruthless, and in control of everything. He never lacked for companions, men or women, but no one had ever truly caught his eye, let alone his heart. And Fourth Brother’s orientation… Cang Jun had never looked into it, but his gut told him it wasn’t a territory Pei Ye could touch.

“You…” Cang Jun’s brow furrowed, his voice dropping an octave. “Sixie, take my advice and kill that thought now. Fourth Brother, he isn’t someone you should be thinking about. He might not even be that kind of person.”

Pei Ye looked up, his dark eyes meeting Cang Jun’s. There was no ripple of emotion in them, only a terrifyingly calm resolve. “I know.”

He paused, his voice low and raspy yet steady. “I’m not looking for anything. I just want to see Master every day. To be by his side and be his blade that’s enough. Anything else, I don’t need it. It doesn’t matter.”

Cang Jun looked at him, temporarily speechless. He saw no infatuation or delusion in Pei Ye’s eyes only a sense of resignation, a fanatical and twisted kind of faith.

Silence stretched between them. After a long while, Cang Jun sighed, repositioning the unlit cigarette in his mouth. His tone returned to its usual hardness. “Fine. I’ll act like I didn’t hear that. You… watch your step. Don’t cross the line, or no one will be able to save you.”

With that, he turned and left the training room.

Pei Ye stood alone, his fingers unconsciously brushing over the spot where the tattoo lay beneath his clothes. He could still feel the slightly raised skin through the fabric.

From the moment he was picked up, his life had completely deviated from the norm. His feelings for his Master were a poison that had already seeped into his marrow there was no cure. He could only hide it, guard it, until the day he might lose control.