Ouyang had successfully gotten time off from Brother Long, and his heart swelled with quiet delight—until he got home.
"Stomach... hurts so bad..."
He’d clutched the walls all the way back, barely making it through the door before collapsing right at the threshold. The pain pinned him there.
Inside his belly, something squeezed and spasmed wildly—worse than a solid kick.
*Be strong*, Ouyang told himself. He’d always been the boy who laughed at pain. This wouldn’t break him.
He remembered Little Qiu sometimes doubled over like this during her period, especially after eating recklessly.
*All I’ve eaten lately is rare, bloody beef straight from the freezer...*
After resting a moment at the door, he tried to drag himself to bed. One shaky step—then *thud*. He crashed face-first onto the wooden floor.
"Can’t... this pain’s killing me."
Curled into a tight ball, clutching his stomach, he whimpered softly, "Ugh... I can’t take it anymore..."
Time blurred. Sweat soaked his back. His naturally cold body now shivered violently, as if trapped in a walk-in freezer. He hugged his arms, teeth chattering.
The balcony door stood slightly ajar. He longed to crawl over and shut it—but his limbs refused to obey.
*If only someone were here...*
Little Qiu was still at school. Brother Long was at Xiaomo’s office. Alone, Ouyang might just lie there until he rotted.
He closed his eyes, surrendering. *I’ll get up when the pain stops.*
Footsteps echoed in the living room. They drew closer. He lacked the strength to open his eyes.
*If it’s Little Qiu, she’d scream and call 911...*
But she’d still be in class.
*Brother Long?* He hadn’t heard the door open.
*A burglar?!* Who’d dare rob Brother Long’s place? They must want to die.
The steps neared. Panic tightened Ouyang’s chest. In this state, he couldn’t fight back.
*Play dead. Just play dead.*
The footsteps stopped. Gentle hands lifted his limbs. Suddenly, he was cradled in a bridal carry—nothing like a thief’s roughness.
*Stealing people now?*
Then he felt the icy touch against his skin. *Of course. It’s him.*
That furry little black ball from last night must’ve squeezed through the balcony door again. Bold enough to invade broad daylight while Brother Long and Little Qiu were gone.
Ouyang’s heart pounded. He was too exhausted for whatever game the Bloodkin Prince played.
Relief flickered when the prince carried him straight to his bedroom—fulfilling his silent wish. *Thanks... but I still won’t forgive you.*
Set gently on his bed, Ouyang sensed the prince lingering. Closet doors creaked open.
*Is he packing my clothes to kidnap me to Zero District?*
Unlikely. His wardrobe held only men’s casual wear and stiff office suits—the Bloodkin Prince hated his boyish style.
"Found it..."
A pleased murmur. Footsteps approached.
Ouyang kept his eyes shut, pretending sleep. Cool fingers brushed his jacket zipper. The prince worked silently, peeling off his damp shirt, jacket, even the bandages beneath.
*Stop!* Ouyang screamed inside. But his voice was gone. His eyelids glued shut. Like last time, his body was a lifeless doll—molded at the prince’s whim.
*What twisted power does he have?*
Memories of last night’s horror flooded back. Fear coiled in his gut. *Twice in one day... during my period.*
*I’ll never forgive him.*
*If he goes further, I’ll drag him down with me when I die.*
Cold palms lifted his torso. Warm, dry fabric settled over his chest.
*Just changing my pajamas...* He could’ve done it himself. Why this terrifying method?
A sigh of relief escaped him—until icy fingers hooked his waistband.
His boxer shorts slid down.
The crinkle of plastic packaging tore through the silence. Ouyang’s mind shrieked unheard protests.
*Stop! Please stop!*
His face burned crimson. Shame swallowed him whole as the old pad was withdrawn and replaced with a fresh one. In that fleeting, intimate moment, Ouyang felt his last shred of dignity shatter.
