On the Thousand Postures Reconstructed by the Scumbags

A1 C5: Entanglement Again

In his previous life, Xi Nian had always tried to avoid getting too involved with Lu Xingzhe. He had too much leverage over that paparazzi, forcing Xi Nian to constantly be on guard. For Xi Nian, this was undoubtedly a source of great unease.

He didn't like Lu Xingzhe, but he didn't hate him either.

Before sunrise, the streetlights on this long road would remain lit, casting a warm yellow glow on the ground and elongating the shadows of the trees. Lu Xingzhe had no strength left to stand. He touched his leg bones, but the intense pain made it hard to determine the severity of his injuries. His nerves were gradually going numb.

Taking a shallow breath, he looked around, quickly searching in his mind for the nearest bus stop. Unexpectedly, a deep, indifferent voice interrupted his thoughts from above.

"I'll take you to the hospital."

Xi Nian, wearing a mask that covered most of his face, showed only his tranquil eyes. Though his face was obscured, his body proportions were comparable to a male model's, clearly not an ordinary passerby. After speaking, he bent down, reaching out towards Lu Xingzhe, who sharply moved aside to avoid him.

"No need."

Raised in an orphanage, Lu Xingzhe's childhood was filled with endless conflicts and thefts. Like a wild dog, he was cunning, selfish, suspicious, and sensitive. Random acts of kindness seemed like poisoned candy to him—something to be avoided.

Faced with this unfamiliar man, Lu Xingzhe's eyes were wary and guarded. Ignoring the pain, he quickly got up, wanting to leave with his camera bag. But before he could take a step, his neck was gripped tightly.

With a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, Xi Nian, as if catching a mouse, grabbed Lu Xingzhe by the collar and whispered in his ear, "Do you like being lame?"

Lu Xingzhe sensed danger and felt inexplicably anxious and panicked. His young eyes held a fierce determination as he growled, "Let go!"

Hearing this, Xi Nian raised an eyebrow and released his grip. There was a thud as Lu Xingzhe fell to the ground again, the impact aggravating his injuries. Writhing in pain, he glared angrily at Xi Nian.

With an air of indifference, Xi Nian picked up Lu Xingzhe, cradling him in his arms, and headed towards his parked car.

Lu Xingzhe was light, and Xi Nian had prepared to use much more force than necessary, but he didn't mind. He had never held Lu Xingzhe like this before.

Realizing the power imbalance, Lu Xingzhe stopped struggling. Enduring the pain, he glared at Xi Nian, as if trying to see through the mask and identify him. His voice, hoarse from prolonged suppression, was gloomy and rough, "I said no need—"

Ignoring him, Xi Nian effortlessly opened the car door and tossed Lu Xingzhe onto the back seat. "What, afraid I'll sell you?"

There was a faint scent on Xi Nian's clothes, like white tea or cold rain, refreshing yet chilling, fleeting.

Still stunned, Lu Xingzhe found himself in the back seat. Before he could react, the door slammed shut. Glancing up, he saw Xi Nian getting into the driver's seat. The car started, and Lu Xingzhe noticed the thick bandage wrapped around Xi Nian's right wrist, glaringly white.

Having been a paparazzi for so many years, Lu Xingzhe knew he had enemies. Xi Nian's eyes seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd seen them before. He tried his phone, but it was off due to a dead battery. Frustrated, he gave up.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and, sitting up slightly, tossed several large bills onto the front seat. His voice was deep and hoarse as he demanded, "Drop me off at the next bus station."