When My Arch-Enemy Became Possessive - Chapter 1

This was the second cigarette.

Sheng Zhiyu leaned his left hand against the sink, his pitch-black pupils staring at his reflection in the mirror.

The hotel bathrobe was loose and lopsided. Under the pale orange light, deep and shallow marks were etched across his skin.

His lower lip was slightly swollen.

Faint rose-colored patches were scattered across his chest.

The marks on his neck, waist, and legs were long and lighter in color.

There was even a ring of bite marks on his inner thigh.

He couldn’t see the other areas and wasn’t sure if there were more, but judging by the dull ache radiating from every part of his body, he had been put through the wringer.

Sheng Zhiyu lowered his gaze, slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke. As his eyes drifted down, he noticed his phone on the vanity was lit up.

He didn’t rush to answer the first missed call. He waited patiently for three seconds, and when the screen lit up again, he swiped to answer.

“How rare. The ‘King of Overtime’ is actually late?” the person on the other end asked. “Or are you planning to skip work?”

“I’ll be there later.” As soon as Sheng Zhiyu spoke, he realized his voice was incredibly hoarse. Frowning slightly, he crushed out the cigarette.

“…What’s wrong with your voice? Don’t tell me something happened because you drank too much last night?”

“Oh.” Sheng Zhiyu looked down and turned on the faucet. As the warm water washed the smell of smoke from his fingertips, he said calmly, “I got into a fight with a dog.”

“What? A dog?” The person on the other end paused. “Do you need to go get a rabies shot then?”

“No. First, I’m going to kill the culprit.”

With that, he hung up.

Sheng Zhiyu tied the belt of his bathrobe into a tight, secure knot and stepped out of the bathroom.

High-end hotels had one advantage: plenty of decor.

At the entryway, he spotted a narrow-necked glass vase.

With an expressionless face, he gripped the neck of the vase. His bare feet stepped onto the icy floor tiles; the cold seemed to seep through his skin and into his bones, carrying with it a wave of discomfort and hidden pain.

In the center of the room was a messy double bed. Clothing from two people was scattered across the floor. Closest to his feet was a royal blue cashmere scarf.

It wasn’t Sheng Zhiyu’s. He didn’t like such flamboyant colors.

In the entire Quick Transmigration Bureau, only one person constantly fluttered about with that specific shade of blue—Sheng Zhiyu’s arch-rival, Qi Fan.

Question:

If you sleep with your professional nemesis under mysterious circumstances, can it be recorded in the “Book of Life’s Greatest Humiliations”?

Sheng Zhiyu felt that it definitely could.

He shifted his gaze to the edge of the bed, landing on a man’s back with muscle lines that were perfect to the extreme.

Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, lean and symmetrical… it was a physique that one might not necessarily win against in a head-on physical confrontation.

Sheng Zhiyu weighed the vase in his hand, took aim, and swung.

The vase sank heavily into the pillow. There was no tactile sensation of hitting a target.

“While it is time to get up, isn’t this wake-up call a bit too grand, my little alarm clock?”

A slightly hoarse, lazy male voice came from his side. An arm wrapped around Sheng Zhiyu’s waist from above. Qi Fan, seemingly not yet fully awake, lazily leaned his head against Sheng Zhiyu’s chest. “Let me sleep for five more minutes.”

“Five minutes won’t be enough, right?” Sheng Zhiyu gave a faint smile and applied force to his wrist again.

Thud.

The vase struck Qi Fan’s wrist, and a stray shard grazed the skin beneath his eye.

Qi Fan slowly opened his eyes. He first glanced at his reddening wrist, then looked up. “Are you trying to make me sleep for a lifetime?”

“Who knows.” Sheng Zhiyu’s eyes curved, but there was no hint of a smile in them. “Depends on how good your luck is.”

“Then my luck should be alright.” Qi Fan shook his wrist and gave a low laugh. “After all, I blocked it.”

Just as the words left his mouth, his neck was gripped by a powerful force and pinned back into the pillow.

Sheng Zhiyu knelt on either side of his waist, pinning his abdomen, and looked down at him from above. “You can still laugh, can you?”

The slight sensation of suffocation made Qi Fan squint. When his vision cleared, he could faintly see that hidden ring of bite marks on Sheng Zhiyu’s leg.

Qi Fan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. With a half-smile, he asked, “What kind of ‘play’ is this supposed to be?”

Fury surged in Sheng Zhiyu’s heart. He had no idea how he looked in the other man’s eyes right now. He spoke coldly: “A ‘Murder in a Locked Room’ play.”

Qi Fan looked slightly surprised. “But with this much force, it doesn’t feel like you’re playing.”

Sheng Zhiyu: “For scum, it’s only appropriate.”

“Scum.” Qi Fan savored the title, looking somewhat innocent. “Are you talking about me?”

Sheng Zhiyu increased the pressure. “You’re so used to acting in those worlds. Are you still acting now that you’re out?”

Feeling the rising suffocation, Qi Fan narrowed his eyes. “Acting… you couldn’t have forgotten that you forced yourself on me last night, could you?”

Sheng Zhiyu: “…”

?

Who. Forced. Whom?

As if he had expected this, Qi Fan reached out with his right hand and pulled out his phone.

A recording was opened. The person in the video with blurred eyes and a flushed face was none other than Sheng Zhiyu himself.

Seeing him freeze, Qi Fan tapped pla.

“Sheng Zhiyu, Mr. Sheng, you are an adult. You should know you have to take responsibility for your words and actions, right?”

The owner of the voice wasn’t in the frame, but it was clearly Qi Fan.

The drunk Sheng Zhiyu was grabbing his sleeve, his words a bit slurred: “So annoying…”

Qi Fan didn’t pull his hand away. The camera tilted down, clearly recording his chaotic state.

Sheng Zhiyu’s unfocused eyes met the lens, his cheeks crimson: “Qi, what are you doing?”

“Leaving evidence,” Qi Fan said. “You say you want to sleep with me now, but you might try to kill me tomorrow.”

At this point, he suddenly let out a laugh. “Though I don’t reject your proposal, I still want to live.”

The utterly wasted Sheng Zhiyu: “So annoying! Are we doing this or not?!”

The moment the words fell, the camera spun. When it cleared, the scene showed Qi Fan being pressed into the bathtub, soaking wet, receiving a kiss from Sheng Zhiyu.

The recording ended.

Qi Fan watched Sheng Zhiyu, whose face had turned as dark as iron. Qi Fan smiled calmly and sat up while still being choked. “If that’s not enough, I have more evidence.”

The man’s core strength was surprisingly good. In an instant, Sheng Zhiyu went from the one actively pinning him down to the one being passively embraced. But to avoid losing ground, he still didn’t let go of the man’s neck.

Qi Fan gave a low cough and slowly raised his hand.

Sheng Zhiyu’s tone was threatening: “What are you doing?”

“Showing you the other evidence.” Qi Fan hooked the collar of his bathrobe and pulled it down.

Only then did Sheng Zhiyu see two blood-red tooth marks on the man’s left collarbone and left wrist.

…They were deep, a vivid red circle that hadn’t even fully healed.

It was enough to show how much force the biter had used.

Qi Fan admired his expression. “Last night, someone took advantage of the fact that he drank the wrong thing and committed a highway robbery. As the victim, I kindly helped him soak in cold water, only to be grabbed and bitten.”

Sheng Zhiyu stalled for a moment before speaking in disbelief: “…I bit those?”

Qi Fan looked at him sincerely. “Didn’t I show you the video?”

Sheng Zhiyu pursed his lips and slowly let go.

It was true he went to a banquet last night, but he only remembered feeling unwell after two drinks and going to the restroom.

As for when he was drugged, or when he ran into Qi Fan, he had no memory of it at all.

Qi Fan didn’t rush his memory. From this close distance, he looked at Sheng Zhiyu’s porcelain-smooth skin, his gaze sweeping over the red, swollen corners of his eyes.

After a long silence, the person in his arms suddenly yanked his bathrobe open.

Qi Fan didn’t resist. He said in feigned surprise, “What? Seeing your criminal evidence worked up an appetite, and you want another bite?”

He looked troubled for a moment and sighed. “Then bite the left side. My right hand is my dominant hand; it would be inconvenient.”

Sheng Zhiyu ignored him. After carefully confirming those two bite marks, he let go and backed away.

They weren’t drawn on, they weren’t tattoos. They were real, bloody bite marks.

Setting the wrist aside, there was no way Qi Fan could have bitten his own collarbone like that just to clear his name.

…So, the culprit really was himself?

As he was thinking, a slightly cold hand suddenly touched his cheek, a fingertip brushing over his lower lip.

The warm sensation rubbed against the slightly swollen corner of his mouth, then poked into Sheng Zhiyu’s mouth, pressing against his sharp lower canine.

Sheng Zhiyu’s eyes turned sharp, and he bit down hard.

“Hiss.” Qi Fan felt the pain, yet he leisurely pulled his hand out and held it before Sheng Zhiyu’s eyes.

“See? This tooth mark is the exact same shape as the ones from last night,” he said. “Don’t even think about denying it.”

Sheng Zhiyu: “.”

“But it’s normal you don’t remember,” Qi Fan dropped half of his playful tone. “You were drugged last night.”

“I was drugged…” Sheng Zhiyu looked at him. “You’re very well-informed?”

“If you doubt it, you can check the surveillance,” Qi Fan said. “You were so fierce last night, I thought you were using the drugs as an excuse to rip my heart out and eat it.”

Remembering himself in the video, Sheng Zhiyu subconsciously gripped the corner of the quilt. “Then you took advantage of me?”

Qi Fan raised his bitten left hand. “But I think you were the dangerous one.”

“…”

The facts were the exact opposite of what he had imagined. Sheng Zhiyu found it hard to accept.

With a dark expression, he pushed the man away. Just as he was about to get out of bed, his right hand landed somewhere in the middle of the mattress and touched a damp patch.

Sheng Zhiyu froze instantly.

Qi Fan watched the faint red creep up behind Sheng Zhiyu’s ears. Understanding dawned on him, and he whispered teasingly, “We drank last night and stayed up too late. Once I finished cleaning you up, I didn’t have the energy to clean the bed. Seems like it got a bit messy.”

Sheng Zhiyu’s temple throbbed with pain. “Shut up.”

This was the legendary “Scumbag” who was rumored to have been through a hundred battles; of course, he was comfortable in this situation. Sheng Zhiyu shouldn’t have tried to discuss things with him while still in bed.

But as he moved to the edge of the bed, Sheng Zhiyu was forcefully pulled back by Qi Fan.

He was pulled to the foot of the bed. The movement tugged at the area below his lower back, and a wave of unspeakable aching numbness made him freeze instantly.

“…What are you doing?” Sheng Zhiyu suppressed his expression, but his hand instinctively clutched the collar of his bathrobe. “You want to die?”

He’s bristling.

“I don’t,” Qi Fan’s voice was casual. “It’s just that there are shards from the glass vase under the bed. You’ll get hurt if you go down barefoot.”

His gaze swept over Sheng Zhiyu’s guarded hands and drifted two inches lower. “After all, you’re already uncomfortable enough, aren’t you?”

Realizing where he was looking, Sheng Zhiyu reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

“…So, you do know I’m uncomfortable.” He used the leverage to sit up, a smile appearing on his beautiful features. One that rippled with a faint, alluring danger.

It was an extraordinary face.

Qi Fan looked into his eyes, waiting for the second half of the sentence.

“Don’t they say everyone in the Scumbag Department is a veteran, with skills and experience leading the entire Bureau?” Sheng Zhiyu caught a flicker of awkwardness on the man’s face and sneered. “Qi Fan, it seems you’re only ‘tender’ after the fact, huh?”

The frivolous face in front of him instantly darkened. Sheng Zhiyu’s frustration from the morning finally found its balance.

He pushed Qi Fan’s shoulder, intending to step down, but felt the hand at his waist suddenly tighten its grip.

Sheng Zhiyu looked back, only to see Qi Fan frowning slightly, his expression obscure: “Who said I—”

A low, light piano melody suddenly rang out, interrupting the conversation.

Realizing it was a phone ringing, Sheng Zhiyu abruptly raised his knee, slamming it into the man’s abdomen.

Qi Fan was caught off guard and curled to the side with a muffled groan.

Sheng Zhiyu picked up the phone.

“King of Overtime, which hospital are you getting your rabies shot at?” the voice on the other end said. “The department head is inspecting today. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Be there soon.” Sheng Zhiyu hung up and looked back at the center of the bed.

Qi Fan was lying there, the snow-white quilt covering half his face, obscuring his expression. His voice was a bit muffled: “Turning your back on me the moment you’re out of bed, you ‘White Moonlight’ people are no different from us ‘Scumbags’.”

Sheng Zhiyu’s mind was a mess; he needed to calm down. He snatched Qi Fan’s phone from the bedside.

After deleting the recording, he opened the memo app and left a string of numbers. “About last night, name your price. If you breathe a word of this, I will definitely kill you.”

“After destroying the evidence,” Qi Fan said with a half-smile, “you want to settle this with money?”

Sheng Zhiyu was expressionless. “Qi Fan, you know perfectly well whether you could have gotten away from me last night or not.”

The recording said it was “forced,” but the one who truly had no choice wasn’t Qi Fan.

He picked up his clothes without a word. After changing, he slammed the door and left.

Qi Fan lay on the bed for a while, then rolled over to find his phone.

After confirming the recording had indeed been deleted, he flipped through his contacts.

He nonchalantly tapped the screen:

[If someone offers to buy my first night, how much should I charge?]