Chapter 7.1: The Kiss

When Wang Jiadong first kissed him, Lang Bai was stunned. For a moment, he didn’t react at all, frozen as the other man pried open his lips and swept his tongue inside in a feverish invasion.

Lang Bai was nearly fifteen. Most boys his age in the underworld had already been with women, but he had no experience whatsoever—Yuan Cheng had kept him completely isolated from such things. It took him a second to realize this was the infamous French kiss he’d heard about. By the time he was shoved naked onto the cold marble floor, it finally hit him: he was being assaulted by a man.

How absurd. I’m not a fucking woman!

Lang Bai jerked his head away, but he was no match for Wang Jiadong. The stench of alcohol made his temples throb. With a furious shove, he pushed Wang Jiadong off and punched him hard enough to snap his head to the side.

Scrambling to get up, Lang Bai barely made it to his knees before Wang Jiadong slammed him back down, pressing him urgently into the ground. “Don’t be scared,” he panted. “I won’t hurt you… I’ll make you feel good.”

“Get the fuck off!” Lang Bai snarled. “Or I’ll kill you!”

His fair, slender body was exposed to the air, his waist still carrying the softness of youth, his frame untouched and pure. Wang Jiadong must have been drunk out of his mind—his thoughts were a chaotic buzz, drowned out by the fire of desire burning through him.

Lang Bai tried to grab a towel to cover himself, but Wang Jiadong seized his wrist. They struggled in the sand, Wang Jiadong desperate to pin him down while Lang Bai twisted and kicked, landing several sharp blows to his head.

Most people would have backed off in the face of such violent resistance, but Wang Jiadong’s mind was too clouded by liquor—it only made him wilder, more frenzied.

Lang Bai’s back scraped against the rough ground, leaving bloody streaks. He hissed in pain, barely managing to block Wang Jiadong’s grasping hands. Then, by chance, his fingers brushed against something hard in Wang Jiadong’s back pocket—a small knife.

Panicked, Lang Bai snatched it out and pressed the blade against Wang Jiadong’s back. “Stop, or I swear to god—!”

Wang Jiadong didn’t listen. He was too far gone, his arousal painful, his eyes bloodshot. He mouthed hungrily at Lang Bai’s neck, biting down hard when he reached the delicate skin over his collarbone, leaving behind a wet, obscene mark.

Lang Bai let out an involuntary cry—half pain, half shock—before plunging the knife deep into Wang Jiadong’s back.

It was a reflexive strike, but in his terror, Lang Bai put all his strength behind it. The blade tore through flesh with a sickening sound, and suddenly, blood gushed out like a fountain.

Wang Jiadong stiffened, then collapsed.

Lang Bai stared, stunned. His teeth chattered, his hands slick with blood, shaking too badly to even check for a pulse.

…Is he… dead?

The pool of blood on the ground spread rapidly, forming a small, dark puddle.

Lang Bai sat motionless in the grass. It might have been minutes—or just seconds—before he snapped back to awareness, his bare toes touching the warm, sticky blood.

Wang Jiadong lay still, no sign of breathing.

Lang Bai’s hands had steadied slightly. He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to think. Grabbing the towel discarded during the struggle, he pressed it against the wound. Then he flipped Wang Jiadong over, rifled through his pockets, and pulled out a phone.

His fingers trembled as he dialed Yuan Cheng’s number.

The ringing seemed to last forever.

Finally, Yuan Cheng’s voice came through. “Hello?”

The unfamiliar number clearly puzzled him, but the moment he heard the breathing on the other end, his tone sharpened. “—A’Bai?”

Lang Bai opened his mouth, struggling to keep his voice steady—but Yuan Cheng heard the fear in it instantly.

“Dad,” Lang Bai whispered. “I killed someone.”

A pause. “Where are you?”

“…Home.”

“Are you safe now?”

“…Maybe.” Lang Bai glanced around. He’d always thought the Yuan estate was secure, but now, it felt terrifying.

“Is the person definitely dead?”

“I think so.”

Silence. Then, faintly, the sound of movement, voices, a car horn.

Lang Bai clutched the phone, his knuckles white. “Dad, come back. Please.”

“Don’t be afraid.” Yuan Cheng’s voice was firm. “I’m already on my way.”

Yuan Cheng arrived within ten minutes. The moment he saw Lang Bai—naked, trembling—he understood everything.

Wang Jiadong lay nearby, unmoving. Yuan Cheng barely glanced at him before stripping off his suit jacket and wrapping it tightly around his son, pulling him close. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.”

Despite the heat, Lang Bai’s skin was ice-cold. “He might be dead…”

“It doesn’t matter. If he is, then he is.”

“I stabbed him. There was so much blood—it sprayed all over me—”

“Shh. It’s alright.” Yuan Cheng kissed Lang Bai’s pale cheek. “You did nothing wrong. This is my fault. I should have protected you better. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.”

But Lang Bai wasn’t crying. He was shaking, terrified—but not a single tear fell. He pressed into Yuan Cheng’s embrace as his father kissed his sweat-damp forehead, his brows, then finally his tightly shut eyelids.

Wang Yi approached with several bodyguards, holding a bloodstained wallet. “Boss.”

Yuan Cheng kept Lang Bai’s face buried against his chest. “Who is he?”

“His ID says Wang Jiadong. Probably the young master of the Wang family—the eldest young master’s cousin.” Wang Yi hesitated, then added in a lower voice, “Boss… he’s not dead yet.”

A dangerous glint flashed in Yuan Cheng’s eyes. Wang Yi shivered and quickly looked away.

Not dead? That might be worse—because now Yuan Cheng could kill him himself.

“Boss, the Wangs are the eldest young master’s maternal family,” Wang Yi reminded carefully. “Shouldn’t we call him here first?”

Just then, Yuan Cheng felt a slight movement in his arms. Lang Bai lifted his head, his gaze eerily calm.

“Dad,” he said softly. “Call someone to save him.”

Yuan Cheng frowned. “You want him to live?”

Lang Bai’s expression twisted. “Dying so easily… would be too merciful.”

Yuan Cheng studied his beautiful, icy son, his gaze lingering on the bite mark marring his collarbone. Countless dark thoughts flickered through his mind before he finally nodded.

He pressed a kiss to Lang Bai’s temple.

“As you wish.”

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