Straight Corporate Slave Accidentally Stumbles into the School's F4 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Sss, what is this stuff?”

As soon as Qiao Nai entered the bathroom, he ripped off his shirt and sniffed it. He didn’t know what had been spilled on it, but it was so foul he couldn’t stand it.

Qiao Nai pinched his nose, at a loss as to what to do with the shirt.

He desperately, absolutely wanted to throw it away, follow it up with an entire bottle of perfume, and be done with it—not a second to lose. But the problem was, what would he wear afterward?

He was out in public, not at home. There were no spare clothes; if he threw it away, he’d have to go back out shirtless. But if he didn’t throw it away, his mental fortitude wasn’t strong enough to put the sour, foul-smelling rag back on.

While he was hesitating, the alcohol began to rush to his head.

Whether it was Qiao Nai or the original Qiao An, their alcohol tolerance was incredibly low—absurdly so. They could get drunk from just a few sips, let alone the fact that Qiao Nai’s cola had been swapped; he had accidentally gulped down a huge mouthful, swallowed it whole before he could spit it out.

Now that the alcohol was kicking in, Qiao Nai’s brain felt like it was burning; he grew dizzy in no time.

Under the dual pressure of the foul stench and the alcohol, Qiao Nai finally threw the shirt into the trash can.

He washed his hands repeatedly with soap, then splashed cold water on his face, trying to sober up. It helped, but only slightly.

There was a mirror on the tiles in front of the sink, directly facing the bathroom door. Qiao Nai leaned against the sink and, in his dazed state, caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He was shirtless, his fair skin flushed red from the alcohol—it looked as though a single touch would turn him completely crimson.

However, that wasn’t what concerned Qiao Nai. He was curious: why were there so many scars on this body?

His lean back and chest were covered in several forearm-length scars, running from his chest to his abdomen, enough to make one’s scalp tingle. If these weren’t on such a thin frame, but instead on a bulkier body, he’d look like a ruthless gang leader.

Qiao Nai reached out to touch the long scar on his chest. It had healed completely and didn’t hurt; judging by the color, it must have been there for years.

He had no idea how they happened. But thinking of the original Qiao An’s childhood, it wasn’t hard to guess.

Sigh.

Poor kid.

Don’t worry! Leave it to me—I’ll help you win over the person you like!

Thinking this, Qiao Nai felt a surge of energy. He looked at himself in the mirror and splashed his face with more cold water, trying to suppress the rising drunkenness.

A moment later, he suddenly froze.

When his thigh pressed against the sink, something sharp poked him.

Qiao Nai lowered his eyes, reached into his pocket, and discovered a necklace inside. Or rather, it wasn’t so much a necklace as a pocket watch on a black cotton string.

Qiao Nai quickly pulled it out and held it under the faucet to rinse it off. He hadn’t noticed the necklace in his pocket until just now when it poked him.

At that moment, Qiao Nai remembered what the bearded man had said to him earlier.

Could this be the “Ferrio’s things” they were talking about?

Qiao Nai tried to open the pocket watch, but whether it was because he lacked strength due to the alcohol or because the watch was rusted, he couldn’t get it to budge.

Regardless, it was clearly something important. So, Qiao Nai rinsed it several times, wiped it dry with paper, and planned to hide it away for the time being.

He hadn’t even had the chance to put the pocket watch back in his pocket when footsteps sounded outside the door.

Qiao Nai narrowed his eyes, thinking he had misheard. He remembered locking the door when he came in—

But then, with a loud clatter, the door was opened.

Qiao Nai’s fingers froze. Through the mirror, he saw who had walked in.

The moment he saw who it was, his grip slipped, and the pocket watch fell to the floor with a clack.

In the next second, Ferrio looked over.

He walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Qiao Nai grabbed the pocket watch in a panic and clenched it in his palm, looking up at the man in front of him. He opened his mouth repeatedly, but didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t until he saw Ferrio’s gaze fall upon him that he remembered he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

The alcohol made Qiao Nai’s reactions slow. By the time Ferrio walked up to him, he had only managed to take a few steps back.

Whether intentional or not, for every step Qiao Nai took back, Ferrio took one step forward.

“…Am I in your way?” Qiao Nai asked, shifting sideways to give him some space.

The closer he got to Qiao Nai, the more distinct the smell of alcohol became. A second later, Ferrio’s brow furrowed.

He paused for a second or two, then stepped around Qiao Nai.

Having splashed water on his face twice, Qiao Nai was a bit more clear-headed, but as the coolness faded, the headache returned in full force. Even though the situation was dire, Qiao Nai didn’t forget his mission.

Leaning against the wall with one hand and pounding his head with the other to force himself to stay alert, he broke into a friendly smile. It took him a long time to squeeze out:

“Do you… like to drink?”

That… should be a good way to break the ice, right?

Qiao Nai had already figured it out: if the answer was yes, he’d get the man drunk, perform some “ideological input”—like a father lecturing a son in a Chinese family—where it didn’t matter if he won his heart yet, as long as he unified their thoughts, making subsequent operations easier and bringing him one step closer to success.

If the answer was no, that was fine too. He’d just fake a faint, refuse to let him leave, and take the opportunity to “borrow” a jacket; he’d have plenty of chances to get close when he returned it.

Ferrio stopped, one hand in his pocket, a look of utter disbelief in his eyes.

Qiao Nai had used his last bits of sobriety to come up with these two plans, but he never expected the man to ignore the script entirely and say nothing at all.

Hey buddy, would it kill you to say a word to me?

“Then… have you eaten?”

That should work, right? Surely he could answer whether he’d eaten or not? It was the most friendly greeting possible.

Ferrio still gave Qiao Nai no chance to talk.

Is he really a mute? Qiao Nai wondered.

Ferrio’s brow was knitted tight, his expression one of disgust. Half a minute later, just as he turned to walk further in, Qiao Nai, in a moment of inattention, lunged in front of him. His face was almost pressed against Ferrio’s, and he could clearly feel the warmth of the man’s cheeks.

Qiao Nai wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the water from washing his face hadn’t dried yet; it trickled down his collarbone, glistening under the lights. Ferrio’s gaze lingered there for a few seconds.

Drunk, Qiao Nai’s eyes were misty, his eyelids and the tip of his nose slightly flushed, looking as if he had just been bullied.

The scene reminded Ferrio of the pet mouse he kept at home.

Bright, clear eyes, a pink nose and lips, and soft fur.

It was exactly… the same.

The initial feeling of disgust vanished into thin air. Ferrio’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He suddenly withdrew his gaze and loosened his collar, feeling inexplicably hot.

“So you can’t talk, huh?” Qiao Nai said, a touch of pity in his eyes. His vision was blurring from the alcohol, and when he talked to people, he tended to look into their eyes instinctively. To see Ferrio clearly, he leaned in even closer.

His body got closer and closer, as if he were about to reach out and touch him.

“What are you doing?”

Before Qiao Nai could reach out, Ferrio clamped down on his wrist.

“…So you can talk.” Within a few short seconds, Qiao Nai’s statement had been forced into a reversal.

“You clearly can talk, so why have you been ignoring me all this time?” Qiao Nai asked, looking up.

Ferrio didn’t want to talk, but Qiao Nai was leaning in closer and closer—from a fist’s distance to almost pressing against him.

The heavy scent of alcohol was overwhelming. To stop Qiao Nai from going any further, Ferrio finally spoke.

“I don’t talk to people who mess around.” As he spoke, Ferrio’s gaze fell back on the red marks on Qiao Nai’s wrist, lingering there for a few seconds, as if he cared quite a bit.

Unfortunately, Qiao Nai didn’t notice this detail.

The spacious room was silent for a moment.

“…Ah? Me?” Qiao Nai finally broke the silence.

Am I someone who messes around?

Wait, no.

Is Qiao An someone who messes around? How did I miss that part in the book?

His brain was already failing him. The more Qiao Nai thought, the less his body obeyed him. Before he could think of any useful information, he heard a knock on the door.

“Hey! Is anyone in there? I need to use the bathroom.”

The top floor where the party was being held was massive, but the layout was irrational—there was only this one bathroom for the whole floor.

But the door was locked from the inside, and Qiao Nai was shirtless.

“Damn it, why won’t the door open?” The person outside was clearly in a rush; they kept banging on the door with their fists. The sound was loud enough to rattle his brains.

In the next second, Qiao Nai’s face turned pale, and his cheeks puffed out slightly.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

Ferrio’s brow didn’t relax; it furrowed deeper. He threw off the hand gripping Qiao Nai’s wrist, his gaze sharp and his voice commanding: “Hold it in.”

Qiao Nai was helpless; this wasn’t something he could control just because he wanted to.

Ferrio acted as if he didn’t see him, grabbed his own hair, and walked toward the door.

Qiao Nai thought Ferrio was going to abandon him and leave, so he hurriedly grabbed the man’s arm to stop him.

No, he can’t leave. If he opened the door and walked out, this pathetic state would be seen by even more people. He had just arrived—if word got out, how would he pursue anyone in the future?

Bang.

Bang, bang.

The door kept getting hammered. This time, along with the knocking, there were more and more footsteps approaching.

“What’s wrong, Fred? Is the door broken?”

“This sucks. The door is jammed and won’t open, and no one inside is answering. Let’s call the maintenance guy.”

“Poor guy. No need to call; leave it to me, I can open it.”

“No, I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going downstairs first, you guys try to open it.”

“…”

Listening to the voices, there were at least three or four people out there. If he didn’t find something to cover up, he was going to suffer social death on the spot.

His gaze returned to the discarded, filthy shirt. Qiao Nai took a deep breath, trying to psych himself up, but failed.

Social death it is!

He truly could not bring himself to put that dirty piece of clothing back on.

“How is it? Can you open it?”

“Almost, almost. Wait another minute.”

“This is terrible, how did the door break all of a sudden?”

The sound of a wire picking the lock was infinitely amplified. In less than a minute, the door would be opened, and the people outside would walk in.

Qiao Nai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He squeezed his fingertips, and it was only then he realized his hand was empty. He looked up sharply. Before he could say anything, a jacket was suddenly draped over him.

Qiao Nai was stunned.

“Button it yourself,” Ferrio commanded.

“…Oh.”

Even though he didn’t understand the man’s intentions, Qiao Nai obediently buttoned the jacket. However, his vision was blurring, and his movements were becoming slower and slower. Before he could button the last one, his hands dropped.

“It’s open! It’s open!”

Clatter—

The door swung open, and several strange faces appeared. In an instant, every single person’s face was frozen in shock.

Because for the first time in their lives, they saw Ferrio—the “sexually cold” man who kept everyone at arm’s length, the protagonist of this party—actually holding someone in his arms.

And that someone was none other than the completely unrelated Qiao An.

“??!”

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