Gold-Devouring Bottom: A Guide to Pampering - Chapter 23.2

Ye Xiuchen stared at Shen Xinghuai’s smiling eyes. In that instant, a memory flashed back: his first meal at the old manor after Old Master Ye had rescued him from Ye Ding’s house at age ten.

Back then, he had stood by the table just like this, paralyzed. Old Master Ye had dismissed all the servants and beckoned him with a smile: “Xiao Chen, come. No one is watching you anymore. Eat whatever your heart desires.”

That was the first meal he had ever eaten at a proper table—not scraps, and not in the damp, dark basement of the Ye Ding household.

Looking at the food on the table and the person smiling warmly at him, the refusal died in Ye Xiuchen’s throat.

Shen Xinghuai ate a satisfying meal, while Ye Xiuchen managed a few bites of porridge. Shen Xinghuai didn’t push him; after days of fasting, overeating would only upset his stomach.

Food often brings lethargy. While the servants cleared the table, Shen Xinghuai let out several yawns against the headboard. Finally unable to hold out, he announced, “Nap time.”

Ye Xiuchen’s expression flickered with a brief awkwardness. He averted his gaze. “I’m going to see Han Yurong.” Before Shen Xinghuai could react, Ye Xiuchen had already slipped out of the room.

Shen Xinghuai exhaled as the figure vanished, then burrowed into the covers.

By the time he woke, it was nearly dark. After dinner, Uncle Ming pushed him in his wheelchair for a stroll along the garden paths.

After spending time together, Uncle Ming’s initial wariness of Shen Xinghuai had vanished. He had begun to accept him as one of the masters of the house.

They chatted idly until Uncle Ming touched briefly on Ye Xiuchen’s past.

Combining his knowledge of the “plot” with Uncle Ming’s details, Shen Xinghuai pieced together the tragedy of Ye Xiuchen’s childhood.

Ye Xiuchen was the illegitimate son of Ye Ding and an obscure, minor actress. After a single night of indiscretion, the actress gave birth in secret. When the boy was barely two, she handed him over to the Ye family in exchange for a massive hush-money settlement.

He was so young he couldn’t even remember his mother’s face.

To the Ye family, he was an unwelcome guest. At the time, Ye Ding’s wife, Xie Ying, was pregnant with their second child. The shock of the news caused her to suffer a miscarriage the following day.

Driven by guilt toward his wife and fear that the scandal would ruin his standing as an heir, Ye Ding had a problem. Old Master Ye had two wives and six children in total, all locked in a vicious struggle for succession.

Ye Ding didn’t want the boy, but he couldn’t throw him out lest his siblings find him and use him as leverage. Since having him in the house offended Xie Ying, Ye Ding threw the toddler into the basement with Ye Xiujun’s fighting dogs. A servant would toss him food, but otherwise, he was ignored. The intent was for Ye Xiuchen to die in an “accidental” dog attack.

But the dogs didn’t eat him. He lived in that basement without a shred of dignity until he was ten years old. If Ye Xiujun hadn’t accidentally let the secret slip in front of Old Master Ye, he might have spent his entire life in that sunless cellar.

Shen Xinghuai, who had grown up privileged and pampered, couldn’t truly feel what Ye Xiuchen went through, but he finally understood why the man was the way he was.

Back in his room, Shen Xinghuai pulled out his phone. He noticed a message from Tian Yuanyuan.

He hadn’t told his friend about his injury. Yuanyuan had recently started working at his family’s company, and between his father’s constant nagging and the heavy workload, they had only chatted sporadically on WeChat.

He opened the app. The previously vibrant “Small Vegetable Patch” profile had changed to “Wilted Cabbage.”

Wilted Cabbage: Huai-huai, I want to run away from home.

Wilted Cabbage: I can’t live like this anymore.

Shen Xinghuai offered his sincere condolences.

Shen Xinghuai: [Papa Hugs You].gif

Wilted Cabbage: DON’T LET ME SEE THE WORD ‘PAPA’ EVER AGAIN!!! [Roaring]

Shen Xinghuai chuckled.

Shen Xinghuai: [Fatherly Embrace].gif

Yuanyuan called him immediately, his voice a panicked, muffled whisper. “Stop teasing me, I’m having a breakdown.”

Shen Xinghuai mimicked his tone. “Why are you whispering?”

“I’m in etiquette training! My dad’s newest nightmare (Yao-e-zi).”

Because he was whispering so low, Shen Xinghuai misheard him. “Your dad had another son (Yao-er-zi)? Why is a newborn making you take etiquette classes?”

“Nightmare! A nuisance! Not a younger son!”

Shen Xinghuai laughed heartlessly. “Sorry, I misheard. But why etiquette training?”

“To attend the Lincheng Summit at the end of the month. My dad thinks my posture is terrible.” Actually, his dad hated everything about him.

The Lincheng Summit? One piece of information flashed in Shen Xinghuai’s mind: it was at this grand gala where Lu Yan would meet An Wei—a man who looked somewhat like Shen Xinghuai. This was the start of the “Gilded CEO and his Stand-in Lover” melodrama.

An Wei would eventually be brainwashed by that trash Lu Yan. Upon discovering he was a “stand-in,” he wouldn’t blame Lu Yan; instead, he’d target the original Shen Xinghuai. Working in tandem with Lu Yan, he would create endless misunderstandings between Shen Xinghuai and the madman, eventually leading to the original’s death.

“Huai-huai? Why’d you go quiet?”

Shen Xinghuai snapped back to reality. “Bad signal. When exactly is the summit?”

“The 31st. You’ll be there, right? I’ll feel better if you’re with me.”

Go? Of course I’m going. He didn’t care how Lu Yan and An Wei toyed with each other, but he refused to be the scapegoat. “Yeah, let’s go together.”

Hanging up, he heard the elevator open in the hallway. Lumping along, he poked his head out the door.

Ye Xiuchen noticed the fluffy head peeking out and frowned. “Why are you out of bed?”

Shen Xinghuai leaned against the doorframe. “I heard the elevator. I wanted to see if it was you.”

Ye Xiuchen had spent the afternoon with Han Yurong. He seemed more willing to cooperate with treatment now; his state was much better than this morning. Still, he kept a stiff face as he looked at the bandaged leg. “Does it still hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Then go back and lie down.”

This guy, can’t you be a little softer? Does it have to be a scolding every time? “Then carry me back.”

Fortunately, his conscience wasn’t entirely black yet. With a cold face, he carried him back to the bedroom.

Shen Xinghuai pointed to a cabinet. “The pillows and blankets are in there.”

“Have Uncle Ming find someone to change your bedding!” Ye Xiuchen noted that the boy was getting increasingly comfortable ordering him around.

Shen Xinghuai shifted his pillow from the center of the bed to the side, making room. “It’s not for a change of bedding. It’s for you to sleep tonight.”

Ye Xiuchen stared at him for a solid thirty seconds. “What?”

Shen Xinghuai patted the empty space. “You’re sleeping here. Let’s give it a try.”

A try? Ye Xiuchen’s eyes narrowed as if calculating a complex equation. “Try what?”

“Try sleeping together, obviously. Don’t you suffer from insomnia when you’re alone?” Shen Xinghuai had learned from Uncle Ming that due to his childhood trauma, Ye Xiuchen lacked a sense of security and suffered from chronic sleep issues.

He knew habits were hard to break—and psychological scars even harder—but everything required a first step. “Why are you backing away? We’re just sleeping. Relax, I won’t do anything else to you. No. ‘interactions’.”

If anything, that made Ye Xiuchen take another step back. “It’s useless.”

Uncle Ming hadn’t told Shen Xinghuai the whole truth. It wasn’t just that he had insomnia; it was that he was physically unable to sleep in a bed like a normal person.

Over the years, he had tried everything. He had changed rooms, changed beds—but without fail, he would stare at the ceiling until dawn.

In the basement, the winter concrete floor had been so damp and cold it turned his skin blue; sleep was impossible. The tiny version of himself had dragged his frostbitten limbs to crawl into the dog’s crate. To him, that crate was the warmest, most comfortable place on earth.

When he was rescued at ten and given his own room, soft bed, and warm blankets, he couldn’t sleep. He spent entire nights wide-eyed. Eventually, unable to take it, he would drag his blankets under his cramped, dark desk to catch a few hours of rest.

No one hated dark, narrow spaces more than he did, yet away from them, he felt an overwhelming sense of insecurity. He loathed it, but he couldn’t escape it. Only when curled into a dark corner would his subconscious finally relax enough to drift off. He knew rationally that Ye Ding wasn’t coming to beat him anymore, but his body refused to believe it.

Shen Xinghuai held up one finger. “Just try it for one night. My bed is very comfortable. You’ll like it.”

“The bed in my room is exactly the same as yours,” Ye Xiuchen said. He had been forcing himself to sleep in his own bed for days, and he had failed every single time.

Shen Xinghuai wagged his index finger back and forth. “No, no, no. Your bed is completely different from mine!”

Ye Xiuchen couldn’t help but scan the room, finding no discernible difference. “How is it different?”

Shen Xinghuai pointed at himself. “The bed in your room doesn’t have me in it.”

Ye Xiuche: “…”

Seeing the man remain unmoved, Shen Xinghuai exposed his bandaged knee and let out a long, melancholy sigh. “It’s so hard for me to walk. If I want a drink of water or need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, no one will be there to help me.”

Ye Xiuchen watched the performance in silence. “…”

Shen Xinghuai looked pitiful. “I’m so miserable. I got hurt and my boyfriend just abandoned me at the hospital without a word. Now that I’m home, he won’t even look after me.”

Ye Xiuchen’s expression grew colder. “…”

Shen Xinghuai continued his tragic gaze. “I try to tell my boyfriend my troubles, but he doesn’t comfort me. All he does is glare at me with that dark face.”

Ye Xiuchen’s hands clenched into fists at his sides before slowly relaxing. “Stop being so sarcastic. Which cabinet are the extra pillows and blankets in?”

Shen Xinghuai’s face transformed instantly, blooming into a sweet smile. “Open them all and find out—I have no idea.”

The servant responsible for Shen Xinghuai’s bedtime routine had an easy shift today, as the Young Master had taken over the duties.

The Young Master drew the bathwater. The Young Master prepared the fruit, snacks, and juices.

Shen Xinghuai was carried to the small sofa in the bathroom. He looked at the bath preparations and nodded with satisfaction. “Help me get the waterproof bandages, please and thank you.”

Ye Xiuchen had never been ordered around like this in his entire life. He closed his eyes for a brief moment of patience before handing the bandages to the audacious boy. “Here.”

Once Shen Xinghuai had wrapped his knee, Ye Xiuchen took the remaining roll. Before he could even turn around to put it away, Shen Xinghuai stripped his pants off in one swift motion.

He was wearing a loose T-shirt that draped just to the tops of his thighs, leaving his fair, slender legs exposed to the air.

Clatter! The roll of bandages slipped from Ye Xiuchen’s hand and hit the floor.

Shen Xinghuai saw it clearly: this time, there was no ice or frost in Ye Xiuchen’s eyes—only pure, unadulterated panic.

“What are you afraid of? I only took off my outer pants.” Fearing the man wouldn’t believe him, he lifted the hem of his T-shirt slightly to show his boxers. “See? Not naked.”

Ye Xiuchen bent down to retrieve the bandages, pointedly looking away. “I know. Put your shirt down.”

Shen Xinghuai saw the man actively avoiding his gaze, and the playfulness in his eyes intensified. He’s actually quite innocent.

Told to put it down, he did the opposite. Who wears clothes in the bathtub, anyway? He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt with both hands and whipped it over his head. Now his upper body truly was bare.

He tossed the shirt aside at the exact moment Ye Xiuchen stood up with the bandages.

The veins on Ye Xiuchen’s hand bulged as he gripped the bandage roll. “…”

“Okay, I’m ready.” Shen Xinghuai didn’t have a shred of self-consciousness.

It took Ye Xiuchen a long moment to snap out of it. He tossed the bandages aside with a look of utter helplessness and leaned down to pick the boy up.

Shen Xinghuai’s skin wasn’t just fair; it was soft and smooth. Holding him felt like holding a live wire.

Ye Xiuchen pursed his lips and took two large strides to the bathtub, lowering him into the water. Then, like a gust of wind, he vanished from the bathroom in an instant.

After his soak, Shen Xinghuai changed into pajamas and called for Ye Xiuchen several times before the man finally reappeared to carry him back to bed.

Ye Xiuchen’s own shower was much faster. He emerged shortly after, his hair damp and hanging low. The bangs that usually covered his forehead were brushed back, revealing the full, sharp lines of his brow and making his features look even more striking and three-dimensional.

Shen Xinghuai had long ago decided that based purely on looks and physique, this “madman” was definitely his type. But then he remembered the man’s “dog” personality and sighed inwardly. Better just stay friends.

Ye Xiuchen rubbed a towel over his head, then tossed it into the hamper by the door. Turning back to see Shen Xinghuai watching him, he said, “Turn off the light.”

Shen Xinghuai checked the time—nearly 11:00 PM. Time for bed. “Mm, let’s sleep.”

The room plunged into darkness. Shen Xinghuai felt the bed dip as the person beside him lay down. Immediately, the pillow next to his was dragged further toward the far edge of the bed.

Shen Xinghuai felt a surge of disdain. What are you hiding for? I just want to be friends.

The bed was huge—truly massive. With each of them on opposite sides, they couldn’t even touch each other with their arms outstretched.

Shen Xinghuai lay under the covers. The room was silent; the person beside him was so quiet he couldn’t even hear him breathe.

Minutes ticked by. Half an hour passed. Ye Xiuchen wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep—Shen Xinghuai had napped too long in the afternoon, and now his eyes were wide open.

He let out a helpless sigh and slowly turned over, inching his way toward Ye Xiuchen’s side of the bed.

Just as he was about to make contact, two fingers pressed against his forehead, stopping him. In the darkness, the man’s voice wasn’t just cold; it sounded somewhat lonely. “What are you doing now?”

Shen Xinghuai flicked the knuckles on his forehead. “Checking to see if you were asleep.”

“I’m not.”

Shen Xinghuai flopped back onto the bed in defeat. “I can’t sleep either.”

After a moment of silence and the rustling of sheets, the man sat up. “I’m going back to my room.”

Since he was close, Shen Xinghuai reached out and snagged the hem of his pajamas. “It’s just because I slept too much this afternoon, not because of you.”

Ye Xiuchen didn’t move, but he didn’t lie back down either. He sat bolt upright, silent.

Shen Xinghuai gave his pajama hem a little tug. “Come on, lie back down.”

Ye Xiuchen hesitated. Shen Xinghuai refused to let go. Finally, the man let out a silent sigh and lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Bored, Shen Xinghuai rolled over and thumped against his side. “Since we can’t sleep, tell me a story.”

Ye Xiuchen, still staring at the ceiling, felt a mental question mark form. “Who tells it?”

Shen Xinghuai propped himself up on one elbow, sounding entirely reasonable. “You.”

Silence was his only answer. Ye Xiuchen wondered which nerve in his brain had misfired to make him agree to this arrangement.

When no answer came after a long time, Shen Xinghuai sighed. He’s the patient here; I’ll humor him. “Fine, then I’ll sing a lullaby.”

After another long silence, Ye Xiuchen weighed his options—telling a bedtime story vs. hearing a lullaby—and chose the latter. “Fine. Sing.”

Shen Xinghuai cleared his throat. “Sleep, sleep, my dear.”

Ye Xiuchen’s eyes slowly turned toward the person singing with such passion. His “stoic expression” function completely broke down. “Shen Xinghuai.”

The “soul singer” was annoyed at the interruption. “What? Don’t stop me! SLEEP! SLEEP!”

Finally unable to control himself, Ye Xiuchen reached out and firmly clamped his hand over Shen Xinghuai’s mouth. “Weren’t you a music major? Can you even play the piano?”

In the darkness, Shen Xinghuai blinked and mumbled through the man’s palm, “Yeth, I can, #$%^&*..”

Knowing the question might be hurtful, Ye Xiuchen still couldn’t resist: “Then why do you sing so completely out of tune?”

Shen Xinghuai: “!?!”

Listen to this! Is that how a human speaks? What do you mean ‘out of tune’? Am I just reciting poetry over here?

The madman used to be a menace to society; now he was a menace to conversation. Shen Xinghuai slapped the hand away. “Your singing is out of tune! Your whole family’s singing is out of tune!” He was fuming.

Ye Xiuchen was quiet for a long while before finally pressing the bristling, tone-deaf singer back onto the bed. He compromised: “Lie down. I’ll tell the story.”

Shen Xinghuai gave a dissatisfied huff, deciding not to lower himself to the madman’s level.