WRA CH88

Chu Ren stammered, “Bai Qi, my little buddy is also a bit hot. Is there anywhere it can cool down?”

Bai Qi: ?

Did he want to put it inside him?

“I’m just too hot.” Having compromised on the air conditioning temperature for Bai Qi, Chu Ren was now demanding all his accumulated rewards in a single day. “Did you know? Physiologically speaking, male genitalia shouldn’t be kept in high-temperature environments.”

He was completely lying through his teeth. High temperatures would at least have to exceed his own body temperature; a room resting at thirty degrees Celsius would absolutely not have any adverse effects on Chu Ren.

But Bai Qi hadn’t systematically studied biology yet, so he readily bought the nonsense.

Chu Ren said pitifully, “Wife, I start school the day after tomorrow.”

Wife…

Starting school the day after tomorrow…

He couldn’t exactly let his eighteen-year-old husband go off to college harboring regrets.

Moreover, by the time Chu Ren came back for winter break, Bai Qi would have already entered his hibernation cycle. He would be sluggish, lethargic, and entirely lacking the energy he possessed right now.

What kind of snake mated in the winter? Better make the most of the summer.

Bai Qi reached out and placed a hand on top of Chu Ren’s head, measuring roughly two centimeters into his fluffy hair. He had personally nourished and fed those two extra centimeters of growth; how could he not have a soft spot for a human he had practically raised himself?

Bai Qi asked, “No matter what form I take, will you always love me?”

“I will,” Chu Ren promised.

“If you fail to do so, I’ll chop off your two centimeters and take them with me.” Bai Qi narrowed his eyes and smiled. “Chu Ren, I’m not actually a college student.”

Chu Ren blinked. “Then are you a practicing lawyer? Just playing poor and acting to trick me into feeling soft-hearted? Well, tricked is tricked. I admit I fell for it. My uncle’s bag of tricks has always been exactly like this—”

“From childhood until now, I’ve only had two years of schooling.” Bai Qi sat up, his faint gaze resting on Chu Ren. “I used to be a security guard in your residential area.”

Chu Ren’s fury flared up instantly. He immediately pulled up his phone’s ticketing app to book a train ride. “Why? Were you bullied in elementary school? Who was it? Do you know where he is now? I’ll gather some people and go beat him up!”

Who dared to bully his eight-year-old wife?! Causing his wife to drop out after only two years of school! Was his wife a left-behind child? What a detestable father-in-law, to actually neglect his own son!

Bai Qi sighed. “You’re an adult now, why is your first thought always to start a fight?”

Chu Ren sneered viciously. “I have a bunch of good-for-nothing younger siblings. I’ll send the minors to beat him up.”

It was the very first time he realized those spoiled brats—who were completely useless at everything except being first-rate troublemakers—actually had a practical use.

“It was due to family reasons, but that’s not the point. The point is that I’m just a security guard, not some aloof law student,” Bai Qi confessed. “The reason I appeared in your house is because your TV is pretty nice, and I wanted to come watch TV.”

Chu Ren paused. “You didn’t come here because of me?”

Bai Qi shook his head. “No. I’ve been secretly sneaking in to watch your TV for five years.”

Chu Ren: “…” Just for that crappy TV? He loves watching TV series that much?

Wait!

Chu Ren said happily, “Then come with me to the capital! I won’t live in the dorms. I’ll buy a house, and you can just stay home and watch TV while you wait for me to finish classes.”

“I’m not going,” Bai Qi refused. “I don’t like the North. It’s too cold. I want to find a job here.”

“Then you can just keep living here and watching TV. I’ll come back every Friday; the high-speed rail is very fast.” Saying this, Chu Ren narrowed his eyes suspiciously again. “You’re not lying to me, are you? Do you just not want to tell me which university you go to? Are you planning to break up with me and pull a disappearing act?”

Bai Qi gave him a look. “Why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know. But you don’t even like watching TV that much. You clearly prefer reading the Yellow Emperor’s Inner Classic and the Records of the Grand Historian.”

“That’s because modern TV dramas aren’t good anymore,” Bai Qi explained. “Especially the ones produced by Changsheng Media. Each one is worse than the last.”

Chu Ren felt a sharp pang of injury. “You can’t say that. Changsheng Media is your father-in-law’s company.”

Bai Qi processed this for a moment. “Your family’s?”

“Yeah.” It suddenly made sense. No wonder his mom and dad kept complaining about feeling out of touch and practically begging him to major in cultural industry investment management so he could take over. It turned out their dramas were tanking, and they desperately needed him to become their scapegoat!

Bai Qi thought about this very seriously. “Then I assume your family isn’t far from bankruptcy. It’s fine. I’ll continue to support you.”

He ruffled Chu Ren’s hair affectionately, wondering what kind of job he would need to find to afford keeping a pampered young master.

Chu Ren had a stroke of brilliance. “Then why don’t you sign on as an artist at my family’s company? You’re so beautiful, I’ll pour all our resources into making you a star. Even if my family goes bankrupt, you’ll still have money, and I can just live happily as your kept man.”

“I don’t want to be a celebrity,” Bai Qi declined. “No freedom.”

Chu Ren’s imagination kept churning. “Then how about you go back and manage the company for me? I’ll call my mom right now and tell her I married an incredibly capable wife.”

“I don’t know the first thing about managing a company.”

“You’ve watched how they work in modern corporate dramas, right? I’ll hire an executive secretary to teach you the ropes. You just need to be in charge of investments and reviewing projects—one vote to approve or one vote to veto. If you really can’t decide on something, you can wait for me to come back on the weekends and we’ll discuss it.”

Chu Ren’s vision grew more and more idyllic as he spoke. Bai Qi wouldn’t even need to go into the office; he could just stay home and review TV series. “You don’t need to feel any pressure. The film and television industry is going downhill anyway. If you can save it, save it. If you can’t, just let it go bankrupt. I’ll pay you a massive executive salary. You earn big money for four years, and then you can use it to support me for the rest of my life.”

Chu Ren had never cared about the entertainment industry before, but since television dramas were essentially the matchmaker that had brought him and Bai Qi together, he suddenly felt his parents actually had spectacular foresight.

“I’m going to tell my dad right now!”

“Chu Ren!” Bai Qi hooked a finger into his waistband, sitting up ramrod straight. “You should find a secretary to tutor me first. Wait until I’ve actually learned the ropes before you spring this on your parents.”

Bai Qi fully intended to help Chu Ren secure his rightful position, but he needed to learn how to do it first.

Chu Ren finally cooled down. He had just been swept away by the grand, romantic vision of a young married couple conquering the world together. Bai Qi was right—and much smarter.

It only took a second of thought for Chu Ren to zero in on the perfect candidate to teach Bai Qi: Executive Wang Ke, who had recently been “forced into early retirement” due to internal factional infighting.

No corporation was exempt from factional warfare. Even if the top brass were totally zen, the executives below them would still claw at each other’s throats.

Auntie Wang Ke’s career revival would begin with tutoring the Crown Princess.

Chu Ren stared intently at Bai Qi. Up until now, he had always felt like Bai Qi was a gust of wind—impossible to truly grasp. As the start of the semester loomed closer, he had tossed and turned in anxiety, desperate for an official title and a deeper connection to bind them. Yet today, Bai Qi had freely offered to anchor himself in Chu Ren’s future.

At eighteen years old, Chu Ren suddenly understood his life’s trajectory.

Never put all your eggs in one basket. With his wife managing the traditional family business, Chu Ren needed to set his sights on the tech sector.

“Wife, when I graduate, you have to invest a sum of startup capital in me.”

Chu Ren smoothly maneuvered for a promise. Promises were emotional shackles—chains that would lock Bai Qi securely to him during the four years Chu Ren couldn’t physically be by his wife’s side.

“Alright,” Bai Qi agreed. His gaze dipped downward. He was still quite young after all; despite talking serious business for so long, Chu Ren’s lower half was still standing proudly at attention. “How much longer can you keep that up?”

Chu Ren puffed his chest out. “A very long time!”

Bai Qi shrugged slightly. “Then if you want to come in, come in.”

Chu Ren froze completely. He hadn’t expected Bai Qi to be so casually agreeable. They hadn’t even kissed on the mouth yet—could he really just go straight to the main event?

“Wait a minute, wife. We have to kiss first.”

Bai Qi opened his mouth and kissed him somewhat absentmindedly. He wasn’t entirely sure yet whether Chu Ren wanted this to be a cooling experience or a scalding hot one…

He was too embarrassed to ask for explicit instructions, and ultimately, a snake’s physiology didn’t really leave the choice up to him anyway.

…

At first, it felt like a brisk, cool mountain stream wrapping tightly around a heated blade.

Cool and refreshing. The sensation was exactly that.

Chu Ren vaguely registered that this totally defied human biology, but after thrusting twice, a sudden, searing heat surged forward to meet him. The temperature shift was so drastic and swift that it completely fried whatever rational thought he had left.

When a person is completely overwhelmed by excitement, it’s impossible to accurately deduce which side the temperature difference is actually coming from. For all he knew, maybe his own temperature had been the lower one.

Chu Ren’s blazing internal fire possessed a clear, tangible form. Like a roaring torch thrown into a furnace, it utterly ignited Bai Qi’s body temperature.

Because it was their first time, Chu Ren didn’t dare go too rough. Remembering that Bai Qi’s constitution was supposedly fragile, he only took a shallow, tentative taste before forcing himself to stop.

Their body temperatures melted together seamlessly, their racing heartbeats pounding in unison.

Bai Qi’s body was truly fascinating. Usually, his hands and feet were like ice, but the moment he was held, he heated up incredibly fast.

Chu Ren thought to himself that it was a damn good thing his own physical vitality was so boundless; otherwise, he’d never have been able to warm up a stone.

He had absolutely zero desire to go to college anymore. He just wanted to stay home and act as Bai Qi’s personal space heater.

Now officially crowned as the prestigious boyfriend, Chu Ren laid down the law with Bai Qi: “You are absolutely forbidden from being tainted by anyone else’s body heat.”

Bai Qi naturally had zero desire for physical contact with other humans anyway. He nodded in easy agreement, then asked Chu Ren if he wanted him to make poached chicken.

After dedicated culinary research, Bai Qi had successfully mastered the art of making delicious poached chicken.

This would likely be the last time he cooked it for Chu Ren this year. Bai Qi genuinely loved sharing the dish with him, primarily because Chu Ren happily devoured all the parts Bai Qi disliked eating.

…

Under the assumption that Bai Qi suffered from a deficiency in Qi and blood, Chu Ren didn’t dare exhaust him. For their remaining two days together, they mostly just cuddled affectionately, and they only did it one more time.

The autumn semester began. Bai Qi stayed home, diligently studying corporate management. Chu Ren traveled north to attend university.

Chu Ren practically bombarded his wife with hundreds of messages a day.

Bai Qi replied promptly to every single one.

Initially, Wang Ke had accepted Chu Ren’s employment offer with a ‘might as well give it a try’ mindset. Firstly, same-sex marriage wasn’t legal, and human hearts were famously fickle. Whether Chu Ren would still be with Bai Qi four years post-graduation was a massive unknown. Secondly, there was no guarantee the Chu family patriarchs would ever accept the arrangement.

However, neither of the boys seemed to harbor a shred of anxiety over these issues, which somehow left Wang Ke feeling like she was the one bracing to come out of the closet.

Chu Ren desperately wanted to fly home on the weekends, but his first week was monopolized by freshman orientation. It bled into the weekend, and his counselor flatly refused to grant him leave. That was immediately followed by half a month of mandatory military training. It wasn’t until the Mid-Autumn Festival naturally bridged into the National Day holiday week that Bai Qi finally granted him permission to come home.

Wang Ke quickly realized that Young Master Chu was surprisingly “obedient”—and the term wasn’t meant as an insult. The way Bai Qi handled Chu Ren actually made their relationship feel incredibly grounded and stable.

And as the two of them matured, that foundational dynamic never wavered.

Having completed his military training, Chu Ren’s posture was razor-straight. He even proudly performed a full set of military martial arts forms for Bai Qi in the living room.

Under Wang Ke’s tutelage, Bai Qi absorbed the complex corporate structures with a photographic memory, synthesizing the information flawlessly. From beginning to end, Wang Ke remained completely oblivious to the fact that her brilliant pupil had technically never finished elementary school.

Chu Ren made a trip to the main family estate and formally informed his parents that he wanted to begin participating lightly in the company’s management.

Father Chu happily delegated a few entry-level tasks to him, and Chu Ren immediately handed his login credentials over to his wife to practice with.

“Going to college really does change a boy. Look at this kid—he’s become so much more grounded and steady,” Father Chu remarked to Mother Chu, brimming with gratification.

Mother Chu nodded. “Boys really do need to learn independence. Moving out forced him to grow up.”

Meanwhile, the “grounded and steady” Chu Ren was currently locked in a fierce haggling match with his wife, begging for one more day off. He argued his case with righteous conviction: “My classes on the 8th are just Advanced Calculus, College Physics, and College English. You forced me to preview all the textbooks over the summer, and I’ve already learned all the material! Why do I need to sit in a lecture hall just to hear it again?”

Bai Qi replied mildly, “…Listening to the professor lecture will surely offer you some fresh insights, won’t it?”

“No, it won’t. They just read straight off the slides.”

“The school isn’t mistreating you, is it?” Bai Qi asked.

The private car scheduled to drive him to the high-speed rail station was already idling at the front gate, yet Chu Ren was still intentionally dragging his feet in the doorway, desperately hoping to miss his train.

Unfortunately for him, it was the absolute peak of the National Day return travel rush. Tickets couldn’t be exchanged or refunded; if he missed this train, he’d be stranded in Haishi for the night.

In the courtyard, a lush Chinese arborvitae tree stood tall, its broad canopy painted a deep, vibrant green.

Bai Qi leaped up gracefully. With a sharp twist of his pale, slender wrist, he snapped off a branch.

It was about thirty centimeters long, adorned with scale-like green leaves that felt soft and springy, not prickly.

Standing behind him, Bai Qi gave the back of Chu Ren’s thigh a light whip with the branch. “Hurry up.”

“Oh,” Chu Ren grumbled. He bent down and slipped on one shoe.

Bai Qi mercilessly whipped his right calf this time. “This one.”

Chu Ren sighed and put on the other shoe.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his wife wearing the pair of gold-rimmed glasses he had bought for him. Bai Qi’s chin was tilted slightly upward, gazing down at him with an aura of cold, disdainful superiority.

Chu Ren knew full well that Bai Qi only put the glasses on when he wanted to act ruthless and intimidating. It didn’t scare him in the slightest, but he dutifully pretended to be cowed.

“Alright, alright, I’m going. Remember to miss me.” Chu Ren snatched the arborvitae branch out of Bai Qi’s hand to take with him. “Cypress is good luck. It means we’ll grow old together until our hair turns white.”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and ducked into the car. In reality, the backpack contained absolutely nothing but his wife’s clothes.

Bai Qi was momentarily stunned. He tilted his head back, gazing up at the towering tree. Grow old together until our hair turns white?

Would Chu Ren like the way he looked with white hair?

A white snake’s hair was also white.

Still, Bai Qi sincerely hoped that day would be delayed for as long as possible. He wanted them to grow old together, just a little bit slower.

After the National Day holiday, fierce autumn rains swept in, and the temperature in Haishi plummeted.

Bai Qi’s desire to move vanished. Having finished his management crash courses, he used the excuse of needing time to “internally digest the material.” Every day, aside from occasionally dragging himself out of bed to reply to Chu Ren’s messages or cast a vote on minor company decisions, he spent the rest of his time buried deep under the covers, sleeping heavily.

He cranked the volume for Chu Ren’s message notifications up to maximum, making them sound like literal explosions, but his sluggish, delayed response times eventually managed to arouse Chu Ren’s suspicions anyway.

The university cafeteria.

Chu Ren stood in line for food. His dietary habits remained perfectly synchronized with Bai Qi’s preferences: white rice, leafy greens, two chicken drumsticks, and a handful of small shrimp. He had plenty of money on his meal card, but he never sought out expensive delicacies.

The second he sat down, he pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of his tray, and sent it to Bai Qi, asking what his wife was having for dinner.

His classmates had long since grown numb to Chu Ren’s obsessive doting on his long-distance partner. The partner clearly had a copy of Chu Ren’s class schedule; they never replied during lectures, only messaging back once classes officially ended. As a result, Chu Ren ate and texted simultaneously, his eyes practically glued to his screen the entire meal.

[Chu Ren: Wife, I miss you.]

[Chu Ren: What’s my wife eating for dinner? Did you cook? Let me order you some takeout.]

…

[Chu Ren: The takeout is there.]

After a painstakingly long delay, Bai Qi finally replied with a single, dry sentence: “Okay. I ate it.”

Chu Ren: “…”

Looking up from a massive bowl of knife-cut noodles, his classmate saw Chu Ren’s face looking dark enough to drip ink, his food completely untouched.

Huh? This guy usually refused to take a single bite until his wife replied.

Was this dark expression… the color of a green hat?

Chu Ren suddenly stood up, his chair scraping loudly. “I need to take a trip home. Cover for me during roll call tonight.”

“You aren’t going to eat?” his classmate asked.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” Chu Ren replied grimly. His wife’s attitude had taken a complete 180—he had gone straight from passionate devotion to freezing indifference!

Catching a red-eye high-speed train, Chu Ren stormed back home in the dead of night, sweeping in like a hurricane to dig his wife out of the blankets and demand answers.

Having just rushed in from the freezing autumn night, he entirely failed to notice the momentary, icy chill clinging beneath the covers.

Chu Ren cried out in sheer devastation, “Wife, has your heart changed?!” He knew long-distance relationships were a terrible idea!

Quietly and discreetly raising his body temperature, Bai Qi: “…”