The Cold Side Character from a Male-Lead Novel is Pregnant - Chapter 24.1

“Come on, if you’re so capable, call him here right now.”

Chen Kan threw these words out harshly, like a jagged stone.

Yet, after hurling the challenge, he didn’t move. He remained planted at the bathroom entrance, his tall frame completely blocking the doorway.

Looking at Chen Kan, Yan Yu only felt the heavy, throbbing ache in his chest become sharper.

The shower wasn’t turned off. The scalding stream brushed against his skin, leaving a flushed heat behind. His soaked pajamas clung to his body, clammy and cold, while two darker patches on the front shimmered with an unnatural dampness. Leaning against the wall, Yan Yu felt nothing but rising confusion.

Back then, before the cub was even born, Chen Kan, to satisfy his own whims, had even found three or five maids to serve his rooms and forced Yan Yu to drink traditional herbal medicine for three or four months just to barely stimulate a small amount.

Now, things were different. He had the physical condition for it, yet Chen Kan wouldn’t let the cubs come near, nor would he touch Yan Yu himself.

What kind of logic was that?

Lately, Yan Yu felt an instinctive voice in his mind urging him to be cautious, to be sycophantic, and to know when to back down when Chen Kan was enraged. For instance, right now, he should be kneeling to please Chen Kan, as he seemingly always had.

But Yan Yu’s knees remained stiff. His heart was filled with resentment, and only one thought remained:

Why?

He had let Chen Kan play with him in every way; why should he still have to please him?

Besides, he had nothing left to live for.

If Chen Kan wanted to kill him, let him do it.

A person shouldn’t live so aimlessly, without a shred of agency.

Feeling agitated, Yan Yu gave Chen Kan a single glance before turning sideways to reach for his phone on the sink.

The screen was still lit, showing a photo of Yuyuan’s silly grin on the lock screen.

Yan Yu swiped it open, his fingertips sliding quickly through his contacts until he found Fu Guanqi’s WeChat.

Fu Guanqi was certainly dead, but he was the only bargaining chip and weapon Yan Yu had to challenge Chen Kan.

As expected.

Chen Kan’s pupils suddenly constricted, and his voice dropped: “What are you doing?”

Yan Yu ignored him. With lowered eyes, his fingers continued to move, typing into the WeChat chat box. However, he had only typed two characters when the phone was violently snatched away.

Chen Kan stepped forward, nearly pressing against Yan Yu and blocking out most of the light. His height of over 1.9 meters gave him a total advantage. He held the phone high, twisting his wrist to dodge Yan Yu’s attempt to reclaim it. His gaze swept over the screen:

The contact’s avatar, The nickname, And the latest message at the top:

Dragon Aotian: 【I’ll definitely be there tomorrow [Grin]】 Dragon Aotian: 【(Sings a little tune about an affair).jpg】

The air froze instantly.

Chen Kan’s gaze shifted to Yan Yu. His jawline was pulled tight, and a heavy, dark storm swirled in his eyes.

But Yan Yu looked up at him with an expressionless gaze that was more piercing than any provocation.

“Wasn’t it you who told me to call him?”

Chen Kan’s scorching breath fanned over Yan Yu’s face, lingering like a ghost: “Call who?”

“Fu Guanqi.”

“He’s the one called Fu Guanqi?”

“Why? Are you Fu Guanqi?”

Chen Kan knew everything about Long Zhanye since his diaper days; he naturally knew the man had nothing to do with “Fu Guanqi.” This was merely Yan Yu’s “inner demon” state. Just as he had assigned Xiang Wenyuan the role of a “eunuch,” he had slapped the name “Fu Guanqi” onto Long Zhanye.

But seeing Yan Yu like this, the wicked fire and inexplicable panic in Chen Kan’s heart burned even hotter.

This inner demon of Yan Yu’s indeed exposed many past events he had never known.

Chen Kan suddenly changed his mind. He grabbed the breast pump, which still had water droplets on its inner walls, out of its packaging box, roughly tearing away the remaining wrapping.

“Fine, I’ll help you.”

Chen Kan said this through gritted teeth, averting his eyes from Yan Yu as if out of guilt. “Close your eyes. Just pretend I’m a doctor.”

Ignoring Yan Yu’s reaction, he used one hand to pull open the front of Yan Yu’s soaked pajamas. With the other, he pressed the cold plastic funnel directly against Yan Yu’s thin chest without any warning.

“Ugh!”

The sudden cold and discomfort made Yan Yu shudder.

Chen Kan flipped the switch.

A low humming filled the bathroom.

But just as Yan Yu had discovered when he tried it himself, the size was completely wrong.

A man’s chest is flat, and Yan Yu was thin with very little flesh. Consequently, the funnel couldn’t form an effective seal. The plastic edge just clumsily dug into his skin, sliding around uselessly with the suction. Instead of relieving the congestion, it only brought sharp pain and the humiliation of being treated like a machine.

It hurt too much, and it was useless.

The buzzing of the machine sounded like a mockery.

Sure enough, after a moment, Yan Yu turned his head away, his fingernails digging deep into his palms.

Fortunately, Chen Kan quickly noticed the problem as well.

Chen Kan had intended to press the machine down according to the instructions, but the harder he tried, the more defiant the device became. It hummed emptily in vain, leaving more and more red marks on Yan Yu’s porcelain-white skin. Chen Kan’s brow furrowed, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Whether out of anxiety or anger, he clumsily tried to adjust the angle.

Chen Kan swore he didn’t feel sorry for him.

He simply used his slightly trembling hand to abruptly turn off the machine and hurl the useless thing into the sink.

There was a sharp clatter.

Yan Yu flinched, shrinking his shoulders against the wall. His body was covered in the marks left by the machine.

His face was pale, his eyelashes drooping coldly.

The disdain in his eyes was crystal clear. For a while, the only sound in the cramped, oppressive bathroom was their breathing.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Not at all.”

Chen Kan, thinking of something, began preparing for his next move while trying to distract Yan Yu with conversation: “Then, if you think of me as Fu Guanqi, would you feel better?”

Yan Yu’s chest was both painful and numb. The original swelling remained unabated, and his shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly.

But he loathed Chen Kan’s forced small talk and his recent habit of repeatedly bringing up “Fu Guanqi.”

“Heh,” Yan Yu sneered. “He’s dead. Do you think thinking of a dead man makes things better?”

“Oh? If he’s been dead so long, why can’t you let him go? What was so good about him?”

Yan Yu said coldly, “He never said such nonsensical things.”

Chen Kan: “…”

“When did you meet?”

“When we were fifteen or sixteen.”

“Schoolmates?”

“Mhm.”

“Was he older than you?”

“In what way?”

“Age. What else would I be asking about?”

“He was younger.”

“By how much?”

“I don’t know. I’ve forgotten.”

“Weren’t you so in love with him? How could you forget?”

“He’s been dead for so many years. How could I remember so clearly?”

Chen Kan swore he was only asking casually to ease the awkwardness of rubbing essential oil between his palms to warm it before applying it to Yan Yu’s chest.

But as he asked, he realized it was worse than not asking at all. The image of this person in Yan Yu’s heart was remarkably specific:

He had a name. He had a specific way of speaking. There were childhood memories.

This meant the person actually existed in Yan Yu’s life; he wasn’t a fictional character from a novel.

That made it even worse.

Chen Kan tried his best to avoid touching the red and swollen areas, knowing Yan Yu might not want him to.

Then, Chen Kan asked the question he wanted to know most, one he had been pondering for a long time:

“Then, this Fu Guanqi, what kind of person was he?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Yan Yu grew impatient.

Yan Yu’s cold gaze swept over Chen Kan’s hand resting on his chest, and his breathing suddenly became erratic: “Can you stop mentioning him?”

Time passed, and the atmosphere shifted from stagnation to a restless standoff.

Yan Yu thought almost instinctively: Fu Guanqi was meticulous and gentle. He would never be like Chen Kan, making him feel humiliated or hurting him so recklessly as he had today.

Chen Kan turned around, silently pulled a clean, soft cotton square from the storage cabinet, and folded it.

Then he stepped back in front of Yan Yu. He still didn’t look him in the eye. His voice was hoarse, carrying a weary softness:

“You’re not a woman. This machine won’t work.” Chen Kan suddenly looked quite despondent as he made a request of Yan Yu: “Turn around first. I’ll use my hands.”

Yan Yu didn’t move.

Chen Kan didn’t rush him either. He just stood there, clutching the square towel, his knuckles white from the force.

He gave him time.

After a moment of confrontation, Yan Yu finally turned around very slowly, leaning his forehead against the cold tiles and closing his eyes in an act of avoidance.

Chen Kan took a deep breath and carefully placed the cotton cloth over him.

Chen Kan truly acted like a dedicated doctor.

His warm, rough fingertips, carrying a suppressed strength and a trace of an undetectable tremor, touched the skin directly, beginning to repeat the clumsy but effective process from before.

This time, neither spoke. Only suppressed breathing and very light, muffled groans echoed in the small space.

Then, Yan Yu felt Chen Kan embrace him from behind. In this semi-embrace, Yan Yu smelled the clean scent that belonged to Chen Kan, while the towel, softened by warm water, was applied over and over.

Chen Kan had learned the technique from somewhere; he pressed down perfectly on Yan Yu’s Shanzhong acupoint. His large, powerful hand fit comfortably over the most painful area, and through the thin layer of cotton, it felt somewhat relieving to Yan Yu. After a while, Chen Kan’s hand began to massage him very gently and carefully through the towel.

The force was hesitant at first, but he soon found a rhythm. Like a professional doctor or a focused masseur, he slowly massaged from the outer edges toward the center.

Chen Kan’s palms were broad, and his heat radiated through the damp towel, carrying an undeniable sense of control. Strangely, Yan Yu didn’t resent it.

He kept his eyes downcast, moving from total body tension to gradually relaxing his shoulders, staring only at the patterns on the tiles.

He could clearly feel the movement of Chen Kan’s knuckles. Every press brought a slight ache, but after that ache, the sense of congestion truly seemed to loosen.

Only then did Yan Yu realize that Chen Kan wasn’t pressing the rough towel directly against his skin. At some point, Chen Kan had applied a layer of essential oil. A cool scent diffused through the air, mixing with Chen Kan’s clean smell, diluting the unsettling sweet-metallic scent and easing the pain of friction.

Chen Kan remained silent, his breathing steady.

But Yan Yu could feel the movements of that hand becoming more stable, even carrying a focused rigor, almost like treating a wound.

There was no flirtation, no lingering sensuality; just a clumsy, earnest attempt to solve a problem.

It wasn’t a toy; there was no indulgence.

It was as if he was someone incredibly precious.

“Your towel is hurting me,” Yan Yu said. Actually, it wasn’t, but he said it intentionally. “Do you think I’m dirty? Is that why you insist on using a cloth?”

As soon as he spoke, Chen Kan’s movements stopped.

He removed the now-lukewarm towel and remained silent for a few seconds.

Then, Chen Kan’s long, slender fingers, coated in essential oil, touched Yan Yu’s skin directly without warning.

Yan Yu’s body suddenly tensed, his spine feeling as if an electric current had passed through it.

Chen Kan’s fingertips were slightly calloused and rough, but his movements were exceptionally careful. He mimicked a specific rhythm, patiently clearing the blockage; it was as if he had specifically studied massage techniques beforehand.

In the misty vapor, the sensation was magnified infinitely.

Chen Kan’s low voice sounded exceptionally magnetic and gentle.

“Would this be better?” Chen Kan asked. “Does it still hurt?”

He was almost becoming nagging.

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