On the Thousand Postures Reconstructed by the Scumbags

论渣男改造的一千种姿势

on-the-thousand-postures-reconstructed-by-the-scumbags

Entangled Again

In his past life, Xi Nian had always tried his best to avoid getting too involved with Lu Xingzhe. He had too much dirt held by that paparazzo, so much so that he was constantly constrained by him. For Xi Nian, this was undoubtedly a matter that made him lose sleep and appetite.


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


 Before the sun rose, the streetlights on this long street would remain on. The warm yellow light shone on the ground, stretching the shadows of the trees long. Lu Xingzhe didn't have the strength to stand up again. He felt his leg bone, but the dense pain made it difficult to discern the extent of his injuries, and even his nerves were gradually becoming numb.


 He managed to catch his breath and looked around, quickly searching his mind for nearby bus station routes. Who would have thought that a low, indifferent voice would suddenly sound from above his head, unexpectedly interrupting his train of thought.


 “I'll take you to the hospital.”


 Xi Nian was wearing a mask, revealing only a pair of eyes as still as a cold pond. Although his face couldn't be seen clearly, his body proportions were comparable to a male model's, unlike an ordinary passerby. After speaking, he bent down and extended a hand to Lu Xingzhe, who reacted strongly and dodged sideways to avoid it.


 “No need.”


 As a child who grew up in an orphanage, his childhood was filled with nothing but endless fighting and plundering. Lu Xingzhe was like a wild dog—despicable and selfish, suspicious and sensitive. To him, the unwarranted kindness of others was like poisoned candy, something to be avoided at all costs.


 Facing this man who had appeared out of nowhere, Lu Xingzhe's eyes were vigilant and defensive. He didn't appreciate Xi Nian's good intentions. Ignoring the pain, he quickly got up from the ground, wanting to hurry away with his camera bag on his back. However, before he could take a single step, his neck was seized.


 A faint smile played on Xi Nian's lips, as if a cat toying with a mouse. He grabbed the back of Lu Xingzhe's collar and whispered in his ear, “Do you enjoy being a cripple?”


 Lu Xingzhe instinctively felt that this person had ill intentions. He became inexplicably flustered and uneasy, his eyes holding a fierceness that shouldn't belong to someone his age. He said in a deep voice, “Let go!”


 Hearing this, Xi Nian raised an eyebrow and let go as requested. With a dull thud of something heavy hitting the ground, Lu Xingzhe fell to the ground again. His injury, as luck would have it, slammed against the pavement. The pain made him clutch his leg and curl into a ball, his whole body trembling as he gritted his teeth, glaring viciously at the culprit.


 Xi Nian looked down at Lu Xingzhe with a sense of detached calm, as if nothing could affect him. He was not one for nonsense, so he simply bent down, scooped the person up into a princess carry, and walked towards his car parked not far away.


 Lu Xingzhe was very light. Xi Nian had prepared to use all his strength, but in the end, he didn't even use seventy percent of it.


 But he didn't care.


 He hadn't really held Lu Xingzhe much in his past life either.


 Probably aware of the disparity in strength, Lu Xingzhe stopped struggling. He endured the pain and stared at Xi Nian with gloomy eyes, as if trying to see his face through the mask. His voice was somber and hoarse from prolonged suppression, “I said, no need—”


 Still holding him, Xi Nian pulled open the car door with his fingertips and tossed Lu Xingzhe into the back seat. “What, afraid I'm a bad guy who's going to sell you?”


 A faint scent clung to his lapel, like white tea, or perhaps cold rain. It was a refreshing yet icy coolness that vanished upon contact.


 Lu Xingzhe was stunned for a moment. He was then thrown into the back seat, and before he could come to his senses, the car door slammed shut from the outside with a bang. He looked up to see the man walk around to the other side, get into the driver's seat, and start the car. A thick layer of gauze was wrapped around his right wrist, its whiteness a bit glaring.


 Having been a paparazzo for so many years, it would be a lie to say Lu Xingzhe had no enemies. He kept feeling that Xi Nian's eyes were inexplicably familiar, yet he couldn't recall where he had seen them. He pressed his phone, which was still powered off due to a dead battery, and could only give up in frustration.


 He took out his wallet from his pocket, rose slightly, and messily tossed a few large bills onto the front passenger seat. The movement pulled at his wound, and his voice was heavy as he hissed in a sharp breath of cold air, “Drop me off at the next station.”


 Xi Nian stared at the road ahead, the light and shadows from outside flickering across his deep-set features. His voice was flat. “And then?”


 Lu Xingzhe said, “I'll take a car myself.”


 Xi Nian retorted, “Is my car not a car?”


 He wasn't a person overflowing with kindness. It was rare for him to be charitable, and when the other party didn't even appreciate it, Xi Nian wasn't inclined to force his help on him. As he drove towards the hospital, he said, “Either you jump out yourself, or shut up.”


 A normal person would have obediently shut up by now, but Lu Xingzhe was someone who wasn't afraid of death. He shot Xi Nian a cold look and immediately pulled on the car door, intending to get out. Unexpectedly, it wouldn't open even after a long while. Only then did he realize the doors had been locked.


 Lu Xingzhe slammed his fist hard on the car window. The back of his hand was already scraped from the ground earlier, and now it was bruised purple. “Who the hell are you?”


 Xi Nian observed his condition in the rearview mirror, then retracted his gaze after a moment. Hearing the question, he said, “A passerby.”


 He said, “Just a passerby.”


 The hospital was just ahead. It was a tall, white building with a red cross emblem, its lights on 24 hours a day. It was unclear if Lu Xingzhe saw it, but he finally stopped struggling. He curled up sideways on the car seat, slowly calming the pain.


 A few scattered items were piled on the back seat: a sports jacket, a medical record book, and a small plastic bag of medicine. Unfortunately, the light was too dim for Lu Xingzhe to see the name on the medical record. His mind began to wander uncontrollably, fully exercising his paparazzo's instinct for wild scribbling, randomly guessing Xi Nian's identity.


 Someone who drums up business for the hospital?


 An organ trafficker?


 He didn't know how to describe it, but right now, Lu Xingzhe had the damn feeling of being on a pirate ship with no way off.


 Xi Nian drove the car into the hospital and entered the parking garage. The incandescent lights overhead finally brightened Lu Xingzhe's dim vision. He moved to get out of the car, only to find a mottled bloodstain on the leather seat, seemingly from his own leg. He pressed his lips together and wiped it messily with his sleeve.


 Xi Nian had just been to this hospital in the afternoon and was fairly familiar with the layout. He parked the car, walked around to the back, pulled open the door, and said to Lu Xingzhe, “Get out.”


 His voice echoed slightly in the empty parking garage.


 Lu Xingzhe probably should have said thank you, but he paused, said nothing, and pulled the brim of his hat low to completely cover his face. He painstakingly moved his injured leg out of the car, closed the door behind him, took out his wallet, and stuffed all the remaining cash into Xi Nian's hand, muttering indistinctly, “For the ride.”


 Including the bills scattered on the passenger seat, the money he gave was at least over two thousand. Xi Nian glanced at the red notes in his hand, then slowly folded them and put them in his jacket pocket. His voice was low, laced with a hint of a smile that wasn't quite a smile, as if in admiration, “So generous.”


 How had he never realized Lu Xingzhe was this interesting before?


 The man's face wasn't revealed, but those eyes, hiding a smile, were enough to make one's face flush and heart race wildly.


 Lu Xingzhe, a paparazzo who had perfected the art of prying, suddenly found himself inexplicably afraid to look at him again and just wanted to leave quickly. However, before he could take two steps, he felt a grip tighten around his waist. Immediately after, his body was lifted off the ground, and a familiar sense of weightlessness washed over him, causing his pupils to contract sharply.


 Xi Nian avoided his wound and scooped Lu Xingzhe up in a princess carry. “I'll just see this through to the end.”


 Through the black mask, his expression was impossible to read. Lu Xingzhe's gaze drifted upward, only to see Xi Nian's sexy, slightly prominent Adam's apple. Through the thin layer of clothing, it wasn't hard to feel the man's lean, strong body.


 Lu Xingzhe had never been held like this in his life. He felt that every point of contact with Xi Nian was searingly hot, making him flustered. A hint of sarcasm unconsciously crept into his tone, “You don't even know if I'm a good guy or a bad guy, and you dare to help me?”


 As he spoke, his fingertips curled, subconsciously wanting to grab Xi Nian's lapel due to the feeling of weightlessness, but when he caught sight of the mottled scrapes and grime on his hand, he quickly pulled it back.


 Carrying him, Xi Nian strode towards the elevator without another word. It was late at night, and the hospital corridor was empty and silent, with only a few doctors on duty. Xi Nian registered Lu Xingzhe for the emergency room, handled the paperwork for an X-ray, and then stood aside watching the doctor treat his wound.


 The doctor on duty was somewhat old. He rolled up Lu Xingzhe's pant leg, and upon seeing the mangled wound, he adjusted his glasses with a bit of a headache. His aged voice said, “I'll clean the wound in a bit, bear with the pain.”


 Lu Xingzhe sat on the edge of the bed with his eyes downcast, not saying a word. He looked like a fair-skinned youth, but his expression was a bit gloomy. He remained silent even when the dressing was being changed, just staring at the cotton ball on the doctor's tweezers. The few times he glanced up, his gaze fell on Xi Nian, who was waiting outside the door.


 The man had his back to him, his head bowed as he looked at his phone. It was unknown what he was scrolling through, but he then turned off the screen.


 Xi Nian sensed the gaze from behind him. He turned around to see Lu Xingzhe staring at him. He raised an eyebrow slightly, put his phone in his pocket, and walked over. “What are you looking at?”


 The doctor had finished disinfecting and was changing instruments not far away.


 With his wound treated, Lu Xingzhe's disheveled state was somewhat lessened. He met Xi Nian's gaze with a blank expression, not dodging or flinching. After a moment, he smiled frivolously. “Looking at your nice figure…”


 Still a hooligan, just like in his past life.


 Xi Nian used to be a naive young man who would get uncomfortable and look away after a few flirtatious words from him, but clearly, that was no longer the case. They were both old hands now; there was no room for embarrassment.


 “You're not bad yourself.”


 Xi Nian commented as such. His gaze moved down from Lu Xingzhe's collarbone, recalling how the other man used to desperately entangle with him in bed. The way his features became rich and alluring as he panted hotly was quite captivating.


 Lu Xingzhe paused at his words, seeming not to have expected such a reply from Xi Nian. Then, he smiled slowly, the corner of his eyebrow twitching up as he asked in a low, husky, and ambiguous voice, “How would you know?”


 Xi Nian crossed his arms, studying him leisurely. In the most serious tone, he said the wildest words, “Have you forgotten? I just held you…”


 The end of the last few words faded between his lips, as if speaking of some clandestine affair, and the atmosphere was inexplicably tinged with a layer of amorous charm.


 Lu Xingzhe: “…”


 Damn it.


 He had thought Xi Nian was a great iceberg, seeing how taciturn he was the whole way. Turns out he was just secretly flirtatious. Lu Xingzhe was about to say something, but seeing the doctor approach, he had no choice but to shut his mouth.


 Xi Nian brushed off some non-existent dust from his clothes, then found a place to sit nearby. The phone in his pocket vibrated incessantly, with notification sounds for new messages and calls from his agent, sounding particularly abrupt in the relatively quiet examination room.


 Lu Xingzhe glanced at him. “Someone's calling you?”


 Xi Nian took out his phone and pressed the mute button. “Guess.”


 Lu Xingzhe's phone was dead. If he could have logged into Weibo right now, he would have discovered that several negative posts about Xi Nian had been quietly published by someone, and as the number of views increased, they were gradually climbing to the top of the trending topics.

On the Thousand Postures Reconstructed by the Scumbags

On the Thousand Postures Reconstructed by the Scumbags

Chapter 5 - Entangled Again

Kiyo