Xiang Zhen had added almost everyone in the company on WeChat. In one of the work groups, everyone had come to add him. Last time, the “flower” of the Sales Department posted a photo of her boyfriend for the first time, saying, “Please take care of me for the rest of my life,” and it had at least 38 likes from mutual friends.

“Is it because I didn’t post a photo of Zhou Sicheng?”

Not having received any blessings from his colleagues, Xiang Zhen felt a little disappointed. Even when he occasionally posted a picture of a small cake, he would get over a dozen likes.

But then he thought, it’s probably because everyone in the company knows he already has a husband; it’s not fresh news, so they didn’t bother to like it.

At 11:20, Xiang Zhen received a message that Zhou Sicheng’s plane had taken off.

It wouldn’t land until 2:30. In truth, Zhou Sicheng could have chosen an early morning flight the next day, but he had been on a business trip for five days, and after compressing his itinerary, he had managed to secure a weekend of leave to spend time with Xiang Zhen at home.

Xiang Zhen had been eating very poorly these past five days. Once all his business meetings were finished, Zhou Sicheng relaxed by watching cooking videos on the plane.

Before the assistant secretary closed his eyes to sleep, he glanced at the President, who was energetically studying culinary arts, “…”

He had thought that when President Zhou hurriedly opened his laptop, it would be to watch those kinds of “cooking” videos.

Just the thought of hugging and kissing Xiang Zhen kept Zhou Sicheng from feeling sleepy at all. To hide his identity, Zhou Sicheng hadn’t video-called Xiang Zhen at all over the past five days. Being away in another city, he suddenly realized there wasn’t even a single photo of Xiang Zhen on his phone.

Living with Xiang Zhen day and night, he had never thought to take pictures.

And asking for a photo would make him look like a creepy, lustful stalker.

At midnight, the busiest time for e-commerce arrived.

Xiang Zhen didn’t understand why selling nuts required both a deposit and a final payment. The deposit coupons were complicated, and customers would get furious and swear when they realized they couldn’t apply their coupons at checkout.

Xiang Zhen had only studied addition, subtraction, and comprehensive arithmetic for a few lessons; he didn’t understand advanced mathematics, geometry, or algebra at all. At first, he had been nervous, thinking that one needed to master science and math to get anywhere in the world, so he had subscribed to five celebrity math tutors, planning to self-study. Later, he realized he didn’t need them at all!

Xiang Zhen easily handled the addition and subtraction, helping customers calculate their exact totals.

Feng Chujun paced back and forth between several departments. Instead of keeping an eye on the livestreaming room, he spent long periods lingering in the customer service department.

Xiang Zhen sat by the window, and every time he spotted Feng Chujun first, he would give a light cough to remind Yu Yueyue to stop looking at her phone.

Yu Yueyue: “Why are you so obedient? You listen to your teacher in class and your boss at work.”

Yu Yueyue had a fiery temper. As an only child from the city, she worked just to have a job. Previously, she hadn’t let her temper show because of her relationships with colleagues, but ever since the surveillance cameras were installed, she had been intentionally slacking off, waiting to be laid off.

Xiang Zhen: “I didn’t attend school.”

Yu Yueyue sighed. Those who didn’t attend school were easy to deceive. Her stingy boyfriend was away on a business trip, invisible all day, and only remembered to send a 52-yuan red packet at 11:00 PM—what was that, alms for a beggar?

By comparison, Feng Chujun, who had ordered 520 yuan worth of KFC for their late-night snack, seemed much more pleasant.

She knew why Feng Chujun was hanging around here—because Xiang Zhen’s husband wasn’t home today.

Seeing Yu Yueyue constantly reading a novel, Xiang Zhen felt curious: “What are you reading? Can you recommend one to me?”

Zhou Sicheng didn’t let him watch short videos, and long dramas required a paid subscription. Xiang Zhen planned to read novels instead; he could just read the free chapters and wait until he had money to read the rest.

Besides, Yu Yueyue had excellent taste. The “Sister Li” videos she recommended were full of practical knowledge. If it weren’t for her, Xiang Zhen wouldn’t even know his husband was an ‘S’ today.

Yu Yueyue: “No, you can’t read it.”

After that sentence, Yu Yueyue didn’t open her phone again, which was more effective than Feng Chujun patrolling eight hundred times.

At 1:00 AM, the customer service department finished their shift. Liu Xiaofang wasn’t on duty today, so Xiang Zhen and Yu Yueyue walked toward the door together.

Feng Chujun appeared, his hands in his pockets: “You’ve worked hard. Let me drive you home.”

As he spoke, he took out a car key and spun it around his index finger.

Xiang Zhen had strong opinions about his squeezing the customer service staff, but since Feng Chujun had liked his husband’s red packet earlier, he decided to be polite in return. He curved his eyes and said, “No need. Yueyue and I are going in different directions; it’s fine if you just take her!”

Feng Chujun: “Then I’ll take her first, then take you.”

He had previously assumed that a pretty boy like Xiang Zhen must be dating a wealthy boss. Before knowing the other man’s strength, Feng Chujun hadn’t acted impulsively. But today, he had seen Xiang Zhen’s WeChat Moments.

Heh, just a cheapskate who only sent his wife a 52-yuan red packet on a holiday.

He was wealthy and generous, and he had the home-court advantage. What could that man compare to him with?

As long as he showed his thoughtfulness and generosity, making the other man look like he was in the mud, Xiang Zhen would know who the best choice was.

No one was stupid. After receiving a 52-yuan red packet from a cheapskate, Xiang Zhen’s attitude toward him would surely change.

Xiang Zhen noticed the car key in Feng Chujun’s hand: “What car are you driving—”

Feng Chujun: “A Ferrari.”

Xiang Zhen: “A gas-powered car? Gas is very expensive. Feng, working the night shift is hard enough; you can just reimburse our taxi fare.”

Feng Chujun: “…”

Yu Yueyue chimed in: “Yeah, yeah, let’s just reimburse the taxi fare. Driving us back and forth will mean we don’t get any sleep tonight.”

Feng Chujun wasn’t a good person. Abroad, he played with both men and women. If Xiang Zhen was going to be deceived by someone, it was better to be deceived by one than by two.

Feng Chujun’s mouth twitched, and he gave Yu Yue a look, “Then I’ll head off first.”

Xiang Zhen didn’t need to call a taxi. He planned to wait for Yueyue to get in her car and then run back home. His gaze accidentally caught the title of his colleague’s novel.

“The Straight Man Falls for an S but is Afraid of Pain [S|M]”

Oooooh!!!

So Yu Yueyue not only had video materials, but also literature—she just didn’t want to share.

“Zhenzhen, I’m heading off.”

“Bye-bye.”

Xiang Zhen remembered the title and hopped around to warm up. Suddenly, a car stopped in front of him.

Feng Chujun lowered the window: “Still haven’t caught a taxi? Let me take you; it’s only three or four kilometers, don’t refuse.”

Xiang Zhen thought for a moment, “Okay, thank you.”

He opened the door and bent down to sit inside. Feng Chujun’s car had a low chassis, cramped space, and a loud noise; it wasn’t as comfortable as riding in Zhou Sicheng’s car.

Come to think of it, could his husband’s car be fixed yet?

The streets were empty in the middle of the night. Feng Chujun slammed on the accelerator, the Ferrari roaring violently, and slammed on the brakes at every traffic light.

The instantaneous acceleration caused one’s heart rate to spike. Feng Chujun watched Xiang Zhen out of the corner of his eye—creating the “suspension bridge effect” was his secret weapon for pursuing people.

Xiang Zhen clutched his seatbelt, thinking that Feng Chujun’s driving skills were terrible. He couldn’t even maintain a steady speed on a three-kilometer road; Zhou Sicheng would never do that.

Xiang Zhen suddenly missed his husband very much.

When they reached the entrance of the residential complex, Xiang Zhen unbuckled his seatbelt: “Thank you.”

Feng Chujun suddenly said: “I need to use the restroom, do you mind? There doesn’t seem to be a public toilet nearby.”

Just as Xiang Zhen was about to agree, someone tapped on the car door. He turned his head and saw Ye Yun’s face pressed against the window.

Ye Yun was pounding on the window like there was a ghost outside—of course, this was also under President Zhou’s orders.

“Xiang Zhen! You just got off work! The captain and I are going to go grab skewers, come with us!” He acted as if he had just seen Feng Chujun: “Is this your colleague? Come along! I live right next to Xiang Zhen, just a thin wooden board in between. No soundproofing at all—it’s no different from living together.”

Xiang Zhen was a bit confused; Ye Yun had clearly said last time that the soundproofing was excellent and he couldn’t hear anything at all.

Feng Chujun smiled: “No thanks, I’m in a hurry to get back.”

Xiang Zhen: “Are you still going to use the restroom?”

Feng Chujun: “I just remembered I have another apartment nearby. I won’t disturb you anymore.”

On the plane, Zhou Sicheng felt only slight discomfort when he received Shi Ting’s message. Working overtime, having the boss give a ride—that was understandable.

Ten minutes later, the health app alerted him that Xiang Zhen’s heart rate was spiking. Zhou Sicheng felt a severe discomfort in his heart, a symptom of sudden hypoxia.

Could an entry-level Ferrari be as comfortable as a high-end BYD?

Why was his heart rate spiking? Was he being verbally harassed?

For the first time, Zhou Sicheng felt that a husband on a business trip was as helpless as a dead husband.

Next time, he must bring Xiang Zhen with him.

The speed at which Zhou Sicheng deplaned was comparable to an escape.

The assistant secretary confirmed it once again: Zhou Sicheng had a phobia of flying.

Zhou Sicheng’s childhood experiences were sympathetic. He had likely been suppressing his fear of flying for years while traveling—because Zhou Qingyun never allowed him to show any weakness. Over time, Zhou Sicheng had forgotten the fear himself. Now that he had found a wife who loved him, his soft underbelly was slowly being exposed.

The assistant secretary, whose legs were shorter than the President’s, jogged behind him: “President Zhou, the sunflower hair clip you ordered is done. It’s in the car, and the trunk is also prepared with the seven desserts you promised your wife. They were made this afternoon and have a three-day shelf life.”

The repaired BYD sat quietly at the airport arrival level.

Zhou Sicheng opened the driver’s door: “I’m not going to the office for the next two days. Call me if there’s anything urgent.”

…

After washing up, Xiang Zhen didn’t go to sleep right away. He wanted to wait for his husband to return; he wasn’t sleepy at all.

He stacked two pillows to use as a backrest and impatiently searched for the novel he had seen on Yu Yueyue’s phone.

He wanted to understand his husband better.

Sister Li’s video explanations were relatively rough and summarized, whereas literary works were more delicate, lingering, and deep-rooted in one’s inner heart.

“Falls for an S but is afraid of pain…” Xiang Zhen typed in the title, wanting to see how other compatriots solved this pain point.

Eh???

Why couldn’t he find it?

Xiang Zhen was anxious. His husband was about to arrive home; he couldn’t read it in front of Zhou Sicheng. What was the difference between that and flipping through a medical book in front of a patient?

[Xiang Zhen: Little Sunflower, help me find this book.]

[Little Sunflower: I’m sorry, I cannot help you. I’m still just a baby.]

Xiang Zhen: ?

He had no choice but to rely on himself. He finally found the resource, and it was a compressed file.

In order to decompress it, he bought a membership.

He had sacrificed too much for his husband.

Three minutes later… because his reading speed was too fast, by the time Xiang Zhen realized what he was reading, it was already too late.

Twenty minutes later, Xiang Zhen licked his lips. He didn’t need a mirror to know his face was red—as red as a giant sunflower face basking in 38-degree heat all day!

This author wrote very detailed and earnestly, and the definitions of terms were also very on-point.

Forty minutes later, Xiang Zhen put down his phone, dazed.

So Zhou Sicheng was that kind of S!

He had originally thought:

Domestic violence = hit the wife whenever you want.

S = hit the wife only when she agrees.

It turns out you also have to be stripped naked and whipped.

Xiang Zhen found it a little hard to accept. He had become a human just so he could wear clothes. Xiang Zhen felt he would be like the straight man in the novel—he wouldn’t be able to help but fight back, and then the S would get angry, feeling untrusted.

The novel also said that the better an S was at hitting people, the more popular they were, with people flocking to them.

Humans were truly strange.

Xiang Zhen finally understood why they didn’t have a sex life.

Because Zhou Sicheng was an S, and that’s what an S’s sex life was like, and Zhou Sicheng couldn’t bear to do it to him.

Xiang Zhen felt a bit of heartache for his husband. The novel said it wasn’t the husband’s fault that the S instinct was in his genes.

His husband had always been restraining himself.

At the very least, Xiang Zhen hadn’t seen whips or such things in that secret room, which meant Zhou Sicheng didn’t want to implement them.

There was a movement near the door. Xiang Zhen scrambled up, closed the novel, ran barefoot to the door, and opened it.

He smelled his husband’s scent!

“Husband!”

As soon as the door opened, Xiang Zhen pounced on him, hugged Zhou Sicheng tightly, and buried his face in his shoulder.

Zhou Sicheng opened his arms wide and took a gentle breath. His nose was filled with the familiar, warm, fragrant scent coming from Xiang Zhen’s body. After five days of traveling and tossing and turning, he finally had a moment to lower his head and seek rest.

Zhou Sicheng’s lips touched Xiang Zhen’s forehead: “Let me go first, let me put these things down.”

He also wanted to throw his luggage away and just hug, kiss, and roll into a pile, but he couldn’t—he was holding seven boxes of cake in his hands.

Xiang Zhen let go and looked down to see Zhou Sicheng hanging cakes from both hands. He was so moved he nearly cried.

Zhou Sicheng walked into the room, put the cakes in the refrigerator, and left one box out. From the inside pocket of his suit, he felt out something like a ring box: “I said I was going to buy you a gift. See if you like it.”

Xiang Zhen took it, raised his eyes, and reflected his husband’s silhouette in them: “Is it a couple’s ring?!”

Zhou Sicheng’s body stiffened. He suddenly felt panicked about Xiang Zhen’s upcoming action of opening the box, afraid of seeing the disappointment on Xiang Zhen’s face when he realized it wasn’t a ring.

Damn it, why wasn’t it a ring! But a sunflower hair clip embedded with a 5.5-carat fancy vivid yellow diamond!

Click.

Xiang Zhen opened the box. Even with the average indoor lighting, his eyes were instantly dazzled by the fire of the yellow diamond and the white diamonds surrounding it. “It’s too beautiful! Husband, where did you buy this? You have such great taste!”

Seeing that he wasn’t unhappy, Zhou Sicheng made up a lie: “Passed by a mall, just bought it.”

Xiang Zhen: “A hair clip like this must cost at least thirty, right!”

“Mm.” Short five zeros.

Zhou Sicheng took it out, moved Xiang Zhen’s long bangs with his fingers, and carefully clipped it on, revealing his fair, smooth forehead. Those eyes looked even bigger and brighter.

Eye to eye, Zhou Sicheng cupped Xiang Zhen’s cheeks, pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead, gradually moved downward, touched his fluttering, curved eyelashes, touched his delicate, round nose tip, and finally, landed heavily on his soft, watery-red lips.

Xiang Zhen pushed Zhou Sicheng away abruptly: “Husband, I’m not ready yet.”

He wasn’t ready to not fight back.

Zhou Sicheng closed his eyes. His first kiss had been interrupted like this. He pretended to be indifferent: “It’s almost three o’clock, I won’t do anything. Didn’t you say you wanted to compensate me with a kiss?”

Xiang Zhen: “Did I say that?”

Zhou Sicheng: “You did, I have evidence.”

Xiang Zhen looked at the chat record Zhou Sicheng produced and said seriously: “A kiss is just a form of address; I say that to everyone.”

The indifference Zhou Sicheng was pretending to have instantly collapsed, his face turning ugly: “What do you mean, you say that to everyone?”

“It’s standard after-sales language! Doesn’t anyone say that to you when you shop online…”

As Xiang Zhen spoke, he suddenly caught a glimpse of Zhou Sicheng’s expression—it was exactly as described in the novel, the prelude to an S-attribute exploding and about to inflict punishment.

Zhou Sicheng took a deep breath: “Try the cake.”

Let Xiang Zhen eat until he’s happy, then get a sweet kiss; he shouldn’t be so resistant then. Why was this box so hard to open? Wrapped in layer after layer.

Xiang Zhen watched Zhou Sicheng unpack the cake box and the disposable gloves, his movements gentle and patient, but tinged with a cold, violent edge.

His husband was restraining himself for love.

Was there really no room for him to step back at all?

“Husband, if you want to whip me, can you use green beans?” Xiang Zhen thought deeply and made a sacrifice.

If he used a long green bean to whip a sunflower—plant hitting plant—that seemed acceptable, like a typhoon; your branches whipping my branches, snapping and getting hurt, tangling in the heavy rain—that was all very normal.

The custom-made soft whip in the novel was also quite expensive, and they didn’t have that much money.

Zhou Sicheng coldly fed him a mouthful of ice cream cake: “You know I want to whip you.”

Xiang Zhen swallowed the ice cream and licked the corner of his mouth: “Green beans are cheap; Shandong will have a huge supply coming on the market soon.”

It won’t hurt, you break one and throw it away, and you can still eat them afterward.

Zhou Sicheng: “You want to eat them? I’ll buy some tomorrow.”

The moment he gets back, he starts ordering dinner; he really thinks I’m a cook.