Chapter 5

The person from the Qi family who came was Qi Zizhi. He was the eldest son of the Qi family, Qi Shuang's elder brother.

The old butler ushered him in with the utmost deference and served him tea. "President Qi, he'll be down in a moment. Please, have some tea first."

On the staircase, Jiao Bai's knees went a little weak.

From his angle looking down, he had a perfect view of the top of the man's head—hair cropped short and crisp, sharp and clean. He descended two or three more steps and caught sight of the man's broad, level shoulders, the kind of firm, commanding lines that belonged to real masculinity.

Jiao Bai was gay and a virgin shou, with a thing for the stern, unyielding type. He used to fantasize about his ideal partner lifting him up high, face grave, looking at him like a class enemy—yet lifting him higher all the same.

And Qi Zizhi, downstairs, happened to fit the type exactly.

Back when Jiao Bai had been reading Broken Wings, he'd captured an image of Qi Zizhi, printed it out, and enshrined it on his desk as his boyfriend of the month.

And now—

Jiao Bai came down the stairs, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the man's crisp, imposing formalwear, his head full of panels from the original artist's pen—those cleanly defined abs in particular...

He was still hungry for that body, apparently.

But nothing was going to come of it. Jiao Bai had no interest in flirting; this body wasn't even his to begin with, and he genuinely wasn't in the mood.

Still, the two of them needed to establish relations, seeing as Qi Zizhi was also on his friends list.

Jiao Bai took a seat that was both safe and polite. "President Qi, how is Shuangshuang doing?"

Qi Zizhi said, "A close call, but he's fine."

"That's good to hear." Jiao Bai let out a breath of relief, then met Qi Zizhi's grave expression and pressed his lips together. "Was Shuangshuang having an allergic reaction?"

"Yes."

Jiao Bai hesitated before asking, "Then... what was he allergic to?"

"Yellow peaches." Qi Zizhi's pitch-black eyes carried a sharp, scrutinizing edge.

Jiao Bai let out a dazed "Ah," then abruptly stood up, lips trembling. "I... I didn't know... how could this happen... it's, it's me, it's my fault, I... I..."

'You can go die, you bastard, you good-for-nothing bitch. Ugh.'

"Sit down." Qi Zizhi's weathered brow furrowed into a deep crease.

Guilty tears welled up in Jiao Bai's eyes.

Qi Zizhi's sword-straight brows knit tight, and his fingers, curled around his teacup, tapped the tabletop a few times. The sound wasn't loud, but it was enough to make one's heart pound. He said, heavy and low, "You ate yellow peaches in the middle of the night?"

"I was hungry... it was dried peach slices, I didn't know Shuangshuang was allergic to them... I only ate a small piece... we were sleeping in the same bed, he must have smelled it on me... we were lying close..." Jiao Bai rambled incoherently, playing the part of someone flustered and self-reproachful. There was no way the original body's owner could possibly have known Qi Shuang was allergic to peaches, so he wasn't worried. He could admit to it freely, describe the facts plainly—it was all just an unfortunate coincidence. That was the only explanation that made sense.

"As far as I know, you live here and don't go out," Qi Zizhi said.

Jiao Bai picked at a hangnail on his index finger. The original body really had been kept confined to Qinxin Garden—by the Old Madam's decree, not just him, but Qi Shuang too was meant to stay within the grounds. But Qi Shuang had the whole Qi family behind him, while the original body had nothing but the hand of fate. So Qi Shuang got to go to school as usual, while the original body did not. Last night had been his first time out since moving in.

Qi Zizhi's overwhelming, oppressive presence surged out of him. "I asked Uncle Kang. No one in the entire estate has eaten yellow peaches recently."

Wrapped inside that sentence was a stern interrogation: 'Where did your dried peaches come from? Who gave them to you?'

"Last night, sir took me along to meet some friends," Jiao Bai said, lifting the finger he'd torn bloody to his mouth and sucking on it. "There were dried peach slices in the private room. I sneaked a bag and stuffed it in my pocket to bring back."

Qi Zizhi stepped out to make a call and confirm.

Jiao Bai sank further into his chair, his gaze drifting, half by accident, over the man's thick, sturdy legs.

'Don't make me suffer for nothing, and I won't scheme against you.'

Qi Zizhi hung up and returned to the living room. "You're coming with me to the hospital."

"Can it be tomorrow?" Jiao Bai lowered his lashes, shifting his weight in small increments on the seat, the picture of someone sitting in visible discomfort. The implication was unmistakable.

Qi Zizhi was a man of principle. He showed no trace of contempt or disgust, only said, "Eight tomorrow morning. My driver will pick you up."

"Take care, President Qi." Jiao Bai called after him, then, ignoring the old butler's look of disbelief that Qi Zizhi had let him off so easily, made his slow, laborious way back upstairs—laborious purely because his knees ached.

The old butler had no idea what had really happened; his mind ran in a completely different direction. He hurried back to his room to call the Old Madam and report.

Jiao Bai sank into the warm, soft bed, pressing his hand against the blanket, and closed his eyes to tally accounts in the little notebook in his head.

One: Qi Shuang tried to run the original host down, but I foiled it. I sent Qi Shuang to the hospital, where he'll be on an IV for at least three days.

Two: Shen Ji made me put his shoes on him and forced me to kneel, aggravating an old injury, put me through real hell—that debt gets settled slowly, in due time.

Three: that brat Liang Dong got his balls scared out of him. He came off worse for it and won't let this go easily. Next time we meet, I strike first.

Still, Liang Dong was in high school. As long as Jiao Bai didn't leave Qinxin Garden, the odds of running into him were basically zero.

Jiao Bai flipped through his phone, changed a password, and went to sleep.

In the original storyline, the original host had already died, and Qi Shuang would never have ended up in the hospital. Clearly, the butterfly effect was already in motion. What would happen from here...

Jiao Bai started snoring.

......

On his first night in the world of the comic, Jiao Bai was plagued by nightmares, and he woke up limp and listless.

The Qi family's driver arrived at eight, took him to the hospital, along with Qi Zizhi's secretary, Ms. Liao.

There was a commotion by the escalator on the first floor. Jiao Bai got closer and found everyone was staring at a beauty.

Her back was to him—hair like black seaweed cascading down, the ends brushing a waist slender enough to fit in one hand, her figure sultry and alluring. The moment she turned and lifted her head, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, and more than a few people couldn't help snapping photos of that face, pure yet seductive at once.

Jiao Bai stopped in his tracks.

'Holy shit, the beauty is Little Chili Pepper!'

Jiao Bai's mind couldn't help but conjure up last night's image of Little Chili Pepper sprawled across that rumpled bed. He wiped his nose, and a pair of slender-heeled red leather shoes appeared in front of him.

The owner of the shoes held a medical chart in hand, on which was written a name: Jiang Yan.

The handwriting was breezy and elegant, with real character to it.

Jiao Bai heard Jiang Yan say, "We meet again."

Before Jiao Bai could respond, Jiang Yan leaned in close and breathed against his ear. "What did it feel like, kneeling there putting shoes on someone?"

Jiao Bai shoved him off, expression icing over. "You were faking unconsciousness at the time."

"Couldn't be helped. If I hadn't faked it, things would've gone badly—gotta protect my own hide," Jiang Yan said, tone ambiguous. "You of all people should know how forceful Mr. Shen can be."

Jiao Bai kept a straight face.

'I don't know, and I don't want to know.'

The author of Broken Wings had a nasty sense of humor—every single top in it had the stamina of a donkey.

"Young Master Yan, time to go."

Jiao Bai followed the voice coming from behind and to the left, and his eyes widened in shock. Zhang Zhen had come to the hospital with Jiang Yan?!

Qi Yiliao had already handed Jiang Yan off to sleep with Shen Ji—so why hadn't he handed him straight over to the other party instead?

Jiao Bai fell into thought. In the comic, the people around Qi Yiliao changed constantly. He tried to recall the plot—after Little Chili Pepper, there'd been an art student.

And by that point, Little Chili Pepper had already gone to Shen Ji.

Jiao Bai couldn't work it out. Why would Qi Yiliao keep Little Chili Pepper around for a stretch of time after that? Surely it wasn't like weaning a baby off milk—gradual transition, find a substitute first before quitting cold turkey?

Jiang Yan seemed to see the confusion on Jiao Bai's face. He tossed him an unfathomable smile, then swayed off on serpentine hips, the two jade-white legs beneath his red skirt dizzying to watch.

Jiao Bai glanced at Ms. Liao standing not far off, then stepped onto the escalator.

......

Qi Shuang was the baby of the family, doted on since childhood. He had two older brothers above him, and both of them indulged his every whim—whatever he wanted growing up, he got; if he didn't get it, he simply took it. It was only the position of Mrs. Shen that had proven too scalding hot to grab—the Qi family had no way to secure that one for him, or else he'd have already claimed it.

As for Qi Shuang's allergy, the Qi family had never made a point of disclosing it publicly, worried it might be exploited by someone with ulterior motives.

Compared to common fruits like bananas and apples, yellow peaches had a somewhat smaller audience, so as long as Qi Shuang paid a bit of attention in daily life, he was fine—and indeed, he hadn't had an incident in a long time. He could actually smell peaches from a distance without issue; he just couldn't get too close.

Which was why, last night...

Qi Shuang glared at the young man who'd been standing in his hospital room for a while now. The thought that this person had quite possibly been breathing right against his nose the night before turned his stomach. "How did you know?"

Jiao Bai was drowsy, his eyelids drooping. "Know what?"

"Still playing dumb!" Qi Shuang's eyes went red.

Jiao Bai: "..." 'And now he's the wronged party?'

All along, Shen Ji had shown no interest in either of the two people kept at Qinxin Garden. Last night, taking the original body out to a gathering of childhood friends had been the Old Madam's idea—she'd told him to bring one of them along, and he'd picked one at random. But Qi Shuang had mistaken it for Shen Ji finally making his choice, and it had triggered a crisis unlike anything he'd felt before.

Blinded by jealousy, Qi Shuang had lost all sense. All he could think was that if he ran the original host down, he'd have no rival left, and it would all be over.

His target was just a nobody, a country bumpkin. Even if the truth came out, the Qi family could protect Qi Shuang.

In the original storyline, Qi Shuang had achieved exactly that, successfully stepping through the doors of the Shen family.

And forming a bond with the person he truly had his sights set on.

Yes, that's right—Qi Shuang's ultimate target was never the title of Mrs. Shen. Shen Ji was simply a stepping stone.

Jiao Bai's train of thought was interrupted by a water cup flying at his head. He caught it just in time—and then another object came flying. Qi Shuang, like a shrewish little brat, kept hurling things at him one after another. Jiao Bai dodged them and closed the distance in a few long strides, forcefully pinning Qi Shuang down onto the hospital bed. "Had enough of your tantrum, little young master?"

Qi Shuang flinched, startled for no clear reason, and pouted. "What are you doing? Let go of me, it hurts, you're hurting me."

That was how the little young master acted spoiled when it was his brothers he was dealing with.

Jiao Bai wasn't his brother, and remained unmoved. "Now it hurts? Don't play-act—I could never outdo you at that."

Qi Shuang's red, swollen eyes went wide, stunned for a beat—then he started thrashing again. "You did it on purpose! You knew I was allergic to peaches, you wanted me dead!"

"If I really wanted you dead, I wouldn't have called for help," Jiao Bai said, pressing him further down into the blanket. "Some things don't need spelling out, do they? But if you really insist..."

"Brother! Brother—mmph..."

Jiao Bai clamped a hand over Qi Shuang's mouth. "I figured, since you had your brother's secretary wait outside, you wanted this to be just the two of us—no third party present."

Qi Shuang went still, pleading with his eyes: 'Don't cover my mouth, let's talk this out properly.'

The little young master had a pair of very expressive, very affecting eyes.

Jiao Bai eased the hand covering his mouth back a little. "I have a proposition for you."

Qi Shuang spat a stream of venomous curses straight into the palm Jiao Bai hadn't quite pulled away. "No deal! Get lost! You shit-eating stray dog!"

Being called a stray dog was one thing, but a shit-eating stray dog, on top of that? Unforgivable. Jiao Bai grabbed the blanket and smothered it over Qi Shuang's head, laughing coldly. "Guess what—if the Old Madam found out you never actually wanted to be her daughter-in-law, and what you were really after was..."

Under the blanket, Qi Shuang thrashed like a madman, kicking his legs and flailing his arms.

Jiao Bai gathered the blanket tighter, wrapping Qi Shuang up snug, and leaned in close to his ear to say a single name.