Flirted Then Forgot Everything - Chapter 7

The Yu Cheng Studio was massive. Jian Li ran blindly, not stopping to catch his breath until he reached the main lobby.

A message from Wan Tao flashed on his phone: “Almost there.”

Jian Li ducked behind a large potted plant near the entrance, looking furtively around like a fugitive. The other actors from the audition had mostly cleared out. Though the studio was huge, it was sparsely populated, leaving the space feeling vast and hollow.

Images of what had just happened in the office flooded Jian Li’s mind. His fingertips still seemed to tingle with the memory of Yu Cheng’s calf and the texture of his hand. As he replayed the scene, Jian Li’s face grew hotter until he felt like he was emitting steam.

What is wrong with Yu Cheng?

Based on the gossip from those young actors and the chat between Yang Xu and the veterans, this audition had been nothing but a charade. If the lead role was already his, why go through the theatrical performance?

Was it just to mess with him? But why would Yu Cheng want to trick him?

Jian Li reached out and absentmindedly fiddled with the leaves of the plant, only to lock eyes with the receptionist through a gap in the foliage. The girl was knitting her brows, looking at him as if he were a mental patient. Jian Li snapped out of it, glanced down at the pile of leaves he’d accidentally plucked, gave an embarrassed, sheepish smile, and bolted out the door.

Wan Tao’s car pulled up just as he reached the curb. Jian Li threw himself into the seat and let out a long, shaky breath. But the breath hitched halfway.

He remembered what Yu Cheng had told him during the audition: “If you fail this audition, I can replace you at any time.”

The realization hit him like a lightning bolt. Yu Cheng had set up the entire audition just to put him in his place—to show him who was boss! The more he thought about Yu Cheng’s icy expression, the more convinced he became.

That absolute bastard!

Wan Tao watched Jian Li through the rearview mirror. The flush on the boy’s face hadn’t faded; it had crawled down his cheeks to his neck, turning his collarbones a soft, rosy pink. It made one wonder if that same warmth extended beneath his clothes.

Jian Li was radiating a soft, vulnerable energy—the kind that made people’s hands itch with the desire to reach out and pinch him. Unaware of the effect he was having, Jian Li sat there with bated breath, his eyelashes fluttering as his mind raced.

Wan Tao’s brow furrowed. He had seen Jian Li like this before—frequently, in the year leading up to the car accident and the memory loss.

“Breathe, or you’re going to pass out,” Wan Tao said, cutting through Jian Li’s spiraling thoughts.

Jian Li gasped, taking in a few sharp lungsful of air before slapping the back of Wan Tao’s seat. “Tao-ge, go! Drive! I don’t want to be in this place for another second!”

“What happened?” Wan Tao asked, starting the engine.

Jian Li pouted. “Nothing major.”

“Did the Film King give you a hard time?” Wan Tao guessed.

Jian Li blinked, then shook his head.

Suddenly, the system’s voice blared in his head:

“Fluctuation detected in target Yu Cheng’s favorability. Favorability -1. Current score: 59 (Failing). Host, please restore target favorability within one minute, otherwise—”

Jian Li’s heart jolted. “Tao-ge, stop! Stop the car!”

Startled, Wan Tao slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt, tires smoking against the pavement.

Before the system could finish its threat, it corrected itself: “Target favorability +1. Current score: 60. Crisis averted.”

Jian Li’s tone shifted instantly. “Actually, keep going, Tao-ge! Don’t stop!”

As Wan Tao confusedly put the car back in gear, the system piped up again: “Target favorability -1. Host, please—”

Jian Li: “Tao-ge, stop!”

System: “Target favorability +1.”

Outside the Yu Cheng Studio, the company van was jerking forward and stopping repeatedly, creating a racket that drew curious stares from onlookers. Jian Li couldn’t take it anymore. The system’s voice was a broken record of “plus one, minus one.” He shoved the door open and climbed out, fuming.

“Tao-ge, wait for me. I forgot something.”

Jian Li marched back into the studio like a man on a mission. He stormed down the corridor and spotted Yang Xu and Yu Cheng still chatting casually. His blood boiled.

What is Yu Cheng’s deal?

He wasn’t even in the room, yet Yu Cheng’s favorability was flipping back and forth like a moody teenager in love. And to top it off, he’d been dragged through a fake audition just to be intimidated. Jian Li was beyond rational thought; he saw only Yu Cheng.

Yu Cheng looked taken aback to see Jian Li returning. He instinctively crushed his cigarette and tossed it into the bin, not forgetting to nudge Yang Xu. “Put that out.”

Yang Xu was bewildered. “What?”

“Go smoke somewhere else,” Yu Cheng repeated.

By then, Jian Li had lunged forward and seized Yu Cheng by the collar. Since Yu Cheng stood at a towering 188cm and Jian Li was 178cm, Jian Li had to tilt his head back to look him in the eye. Feeling his intimidation factor was lacking, he stood on his tiptoes and puffed out his chest.

“Yu Cheng!” he hissed, trying to look as menacing as possible.

Yu Cheng looked down at the red-faced, red-eared boy in front of him, then glanced at the gawkily standing Yang Xu. Yang Xu finally took the hint, snubbed his cigarette, and scurried away, leaving the two of them alone in the corridor.

The system in Jian Li’s head was still chanting “plus one, minus one,” making his brain throb. All he could think about was kissing Yu Cheng again to stabilize the fluctuating score.

Jian Li’s eyes were wide and round as they drifted down to Yu Cheng’s thin lips. Yu Cheng pressed his lips together, seeing right through him. As Jian Li lunged forward, Yu Cheng suddenly clamped a hand over Jian Li’s mouth, pushing him back.

“Mmph!”

Jian Li flailed his arms, but he couldn’t reach the man. Yu Cheng frowned slightly. “Jian Li, did you really think the same trick would work twice?”

Yu Cheng’s hand was large, covering both his mouth and nose. Struggling for air, Jian Li’s eyes grew watery. His chest heaved with anger, and his emotions—notoriously difficult for him to control—began to spill over.

Since childhood, Jian Li had a habit: whenever he argued with someone, he’d inevitably start to cry. It meant that whenever he tried to act tough, he’d end up sobbing while hurling insults, which wasn’t intimidating at all.

Feeling the warmth of Jian Li’s breath against his palm, Yu Cheng loosened his grip slightly. Jian Li seized the opening and lunged again. He yanked at Yu Cheng’s loosened collar, and realizing he couldn’t reach the man’s lips, he lowered his sights and bit down hard on the side of Yu Cheng’s neck.

He bit with everything he had—not just to save his favorability score, but to vent his frustration.

Yu Cheng hadn’t expected the assault. He lost his footing and was slammed against the wall by Jian Li’s momentum. He let out a muffled groan of pain. Jian Li bit so hard he tasted copper. Instinctively, he licked the skin beneath his teeth—warm, damp, and marked by a deep ring of teeth.

Oh, no.

Reality flooded back. Jian Li released his grip and scrambled back. Yu Cheng’s collar was ripped wide, a bloody bite mark stark on his neck. His expression was dangerously dark.

Even the system seemed speechless; the “plus one, minus one” play-by-play finally stopped.

Yu Cheng straightened up from the wall and took a step forward. Jian Li nearly jumped out of his skin and scrambled back. Yu Cheng took another step; Jian Li retreated two more until his back hit the corridor wall. He glanced sideways, shifting his weight to bolt, but before he could take a step, Yu Cheng caught him by the wrist and pinned him against the wall.

Yu Cheng braced his hands on either side of Jian Li’s body, leaning in until they were inches apart. His voice was a low, chilly whisper.

“Jian Li, you’ve got guts. Learning to bite, are we?”

Jian Li stared at him, his brain completely short-circuiting. He did the only thing he could think of: he squeezed his eyes shut.

The system, silent for a while, finally piped up: “Target Yu Cheng favorability +2. Current score: 61. Stabilizing. Keep up the good work, Host.”

Jian Li felt a surge of relief. He opened his eyes and looked at Yu Cheng. I bit him that hard and his favorability went up? Is he some kind of masochist?

He didn’t realize he had muttered the thought out loud. Yu Cheng’s face darkened even further.

“A masochist?”

Yu Cheng let out a cold, angry laugh. He reached out and hooked his finger into Jian Li’s collar. Jian Li was wearing a loose t-shirt today; Yu Cheng’s finger slowly tugged the fabric to the side, exposing half of a shoulder. The pale, slightly pink skin beneath the shirt was revealed, the slender curve of his collarbone looking like a piece of exquisite porcelain.

But this “porcelain” had a warmth and softness that no artwork could ever replicate.

Yu Cheng lowered his head slowly, his breath ghosting past Jian Li’s cheek as the stray hairs at his temples brushed against Jian Li’s ear.

When Jian Li felt that warm breath settle on his shoulder, his entire body began to tremble.

Yu Cheng tilted his head slightly, as if searching for the perfect spot, his breath tracing a path across Jian Li’s skin. Watching as the boy’s flesh turned a deeper and deeper shade of crimson, Yu Cheng narrowed his eyes and slowly sank his teeth in.

Jian Li jolted, his hands flying up to push against Yu Cheng’s chest.

Yu Cheng moved instantly to counter him. One hand pinned Jian Li’s shoulder while the other took firm control of the back of his neck. To kill any chance of struggle, he pressed his long leg forward, physically pinning Jian Li against the wall.

Trapped firmly between the wall and Yu Cheng’s body, Jian Li could feel the bite on his shoulder growing increasingly painful.

Unlike Jian Li, who had bitten down hard and fast, Yu Cheng took his time. He ground his teeth slowly, as if savoring the torment of his prey—or perhaps, as if he were showing a twisted kind of tenderness.

Whether it was torture or affection, it was more than Jian Li could handle. His breathing grew ragged, and the tears that had been pooling in his eyes finally spilled over.

Only when a matching ring of teeth marks appeared on Jian Li’s shoulder did Yu Cheng finally pull back. He looked at the teary-eyed boy and reached out, his fingertip grazing the corner of Jian Li’s eye, coming away damp.

“Do you like it?”

Pure fury surged through Jian Li. He opened his mouth and began to hurl insults:

“Yu Cheng! Are you a damn dog? You son of a—! You dog-thing! You, you dog, dog—!”

Stung by the bite, Jian Li grabbed every “dog” related insult he could think of, but he ran out of vocabulary within seconds. He stammered, unable to find the next word.

“Dog, dog.”

Yu Cheng had already released him and stepped back, leaning lazily against the opposite wall. His dark eyes held a hint of mockery as he watched Jian Li.

“Go on, keep going. Dog what?”

Jian Li’s eyes darted frantically over Yu Cheng, landing on the man’s lean, well-defined waist. He blurted out:

“Dog-waist!”

The moment the words left his mouth, Jian Li froze.

Yu Cheng paused for a heartbeat as well, but he recovered quickly. He spoke with a light, airy tone:

“Whether or not I have a ‘dog-waist’, don’t you already know?”

The tears were still wet on Jian Li’s face, but he was now frozen in sheer terror.

He knew?

What did he know?

How on earth did he know that?