The Transmigration Guide to Seducing Men - Chapter 9

Qi Liangqin pulled the thin blanket over himself, leaning in to sniff it, seemingly catching a whiff of Yan Baizong’s scent.

It was only a “seemingly”—faint and elusive. Perhaps it was just his own one-sided fantasy, and the blanket only smelled of laundry detergent; who knew? But the mere imagination of it was enough to leave him satisfied.

Beside him, Yan Songwei had stopped snoring and was sleeping steadily. He turned his head to look at Yan Songwei’s silhouette. In many such nights, the Qi Liangqin of the novel probably watched him like this, fantasizing that the man sleeping next to him wasn’t Yan Songwei, but his brother, Yan Baizong.

Qi Liangqin seemed quite wanton and shameless, yet also deeply devoted. He seemed trapped in his own demons, suffering so much that he had to use other men as an “antidote”—both wicked and pitiable.

A night of good dreams, so sweet he actually drooled. He was right in the middle of a dream where he was half seawater and half fire when he was suddenly kicked. He woke up instantly, his moist eyes looking at Yan Songwei.

Yan Songwei was staring at his lower half. Qi Liangqin followed his gaze and realized he had a “tent” pitched.

He woke up completely, mortified, and quickly pressed his legs together.

“Having a dream?” Yan Songwei asked with a hint of ill intent.

Qi Liangqin sat up, covering his lower half with the blanket: “No… it’s just… aren’t all men like this in the morning?”

“Seems you’ve got plenty of fire,” Yan Songwei said, his muscular torso bare. “How long has it been since you’ve let it out?”

Qi Liangqin lowered his head and remained silent. Yan Songwei used his bare foot to push him again, but he didn’t expect Qi Liangqin to be so easy to push; he actually knocked him over. Yan Songwei burst out laughing: “What’s there to be shy about? We’re all young men. As long as you don’t let my family find out, I don’t care if you find a boyfriend. I’m very humane; I won’t make you live like a widower.”

Qi Liangqin, wrapped in the blanket, said: “I’m still young, no rush.”

Yan Songwei swaggered off to wash up. Qi Liangqin let out a sigh and lay back down, savoring the dream he just had. It was a perfectly normal dream: Yan Baizong was swimming in the outdoor pool, and he sat by the side, watching that slender, agile body weave through the water like a fish. Yan Baizong is truly handsome, he thought. A real man, he thought.

After a while, he suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom. He scrambled up, but Yan Songwei was inside and shouted: “Wait your turn.”

The first floor had two bathrooms, so he crossed the living room to the other side. He pushed the door, finished his business, and washed his hands. Just as he was about to leave, he caught his reflection in the mirror and stopped, turning back to lean over the sink and stare. The self in the mirror still felt a bit strange, but he felt great every time he saw this face. He suddenly remembered a Korean movie called 200 Pounds Beauty, where the protagonist goes from an unloved fat woman to a peerless beauty through plastic surgery, crying with excitement while telling the mirror: “Even my crying looks so good.”

That kind of joy could probably only be understood by those who were once very ordinary. What can beauty bring? It brings almost everything; life becomes so much easier.

“Truly young,” he shook his head, sighing and touching his cheek. “Truly handsome.”

He watched himself with delight, clicking his tongue and playfully slapping his own butt with both hands. He turned around almost skipping, only to nearly bump right into someone’s chest.

Yan Baizong was looking at him with a complex gaze.

“…Brother… Eldest Brother…” Qi Liangqin stammered. Yan Baizong gave an “mhm,” pushed the bathroom door open, entered, and shut it.

Leaving Qi Liangqin alone, petrified on the spot. Did Yan Baizong see everything? Did he hear?

That was too embarrassing! Yan Baizong probably thought he was the most narcissistic and shameless person he had ever met.

But this was only the beginning, because the next “scene” would be even more embarrassing. And that scene concerned the very bathroom before him.

The Yan villa was H-shaped and two-storied. The matriarch and Yan Yuan occupied the entire second floor—left and right wings—with a sky garden in between. The ground floor was divided into four parts: two guest room areas with four rooms, and two large wings where the brothers, Yan Songwei and Yan Baizong, lived. There were six bathrooms in total: two upstairs and four downstairs, two of which were in the guest areas. Because the matriarch was a businesswoman and quite wary of others, there were no servants except Auntie Chun, who had worked for them for over twenty years. Although a cleaning company came weekly, Auntie Chun was still responsible for the daily upkeep, which was exhausting. Thus, the two guest areas were rarely entered, and Auntie Chun only cleaned them occasionally to reduce her burden.

So, only two bathrooms on the ground floor were basically in use: one in the Songwei/Liangqin wing and one in Yan Baizong’s wing.

In the novel, the “passionate” Qi Liangqin heard the eldest brother was back and was excited all day. But Yan Baizong was the boss of Shengda Company and had work to do; he left immediately after returning and didn’t come back all day. Qi Liangqin, unable to endure his “spring fever,” used the excuse that his own bathroom was broken to go to Yan Baizong’s bathroom to shower at night.

While showering, he intentionally left the door unlocked and half-open, his youthful, supple body stretching vigorously under the showerhead.

Mu Baizong didn’t happen to walk in on him—that was a stroke of luck that couldn’t be forced. However, Qi Liangqin very craftily left an item behind in the bathroom.

Thinking of these scenes from the novel, Qi Liangqin swayed back to his room. Yan Songwei had already come out, looking refreshed and combing his hair: “Qingqing said she wants to eat together today. After work, I’ll call and tell you the location.”

It was an order, not a consultation.

Qi Liangqin went to brush his teeth. After a while, he started “fanning the flames” of his own infatuation again. He felt Qi Liangqin was truly good-looking, full of the fresh scent of a young man. He stuck out his tongue—a small, rounded tongue like a snake enticing one to sin—extending the tip long and curling away the toothpaste foam at the corner of his mouth.

He suddenly felt ashamed; a sudden sense of shame swallowed him. He seemed to see himself in the near future—sticking out such a fresh tongue, tearing off his “gentlemanly” disguise, and unscrupulously seducing Yan Baizong.