"Ah… Ha… Aaaaah!"

After letting out a series of blissful cries, the girl collapsed onto the bed, limbs limp.

Her face flushed, eyes dazed. She’d never felt such a soothing massage—recovering felt almost impossible.

Yes. Just a massage.

Chen Yaoyi rubbed his wrists. It’d been ages. His technique had grown rusty.

Earlier, the young mistress must’ve misunderstood something. She stripped bare, lay motionless on the bed, waiting for Chen Yaoyi’s "assault."

She even urged him to hurry. Chen Yaoyi frowned. *You’re not my mission target. Why push me like this? Do you have a cuckold kink?*

He simply wrapped her tightly in the blanket—rolling her up like a spring roll—and massaged her exposed shoulders and legs with zero hesitation.

Unlike May before her, Lu Zixuan was the story’s ironclad villainess: destined to face the male lead’s punishment for her crimes.

Originally, her family planned to marry her to the Xia clan to secure the alliance. But aloof Lu Zixuan failed to win Xia Tianle’s favor and was sidelined.

Now at university, the heroine arrived—a poor black-haired girl. With manipulative innocence and faux saintliness, she captured Xia Tianle’s heart and devotion.

On the day of Lu Zixuan and Xia Tianle’s engagement, she secretly visited his home, hoping seduction would cement their bond.

Raised without will of her own, she had no choice but to obey.

She still held faint affection for Xia Tianle. Childhood memories held laughter. But time passed—and that sudden transfer student changed everything.

This world differed fundamentally from May’s. This was an eroge.

Whether the heroine doted on by five male leads, male leads occasionally reverse-dominated, or Lu Zixuan framed, exiled from the capital, reduced to a mere plaything—

Yes. An eroge.

"Hey—"

Chen Yaoyi gently patted her flower-like back. "Calm down."

For so long, family duty, clan futures, public scorn—all weighed on her slender shoulders.

She’d tried expressing love for Xia Tianle. Rejected again and again. To him, she was arrogant, cold. He disliked her. Avoided her.

Her past incidents of threatening classmates only deepened his contempt. He schemed daily to annul the engagement.

She knew. Pressed from all sides, she carried immense stress. Chen Yaoyi’s massage? A small kindness. Relief.

"Huh? Ah! Um—I know!"

She wiped drool from her lip and sat up.

Skin flushed, body warm, she clutched the sweat-dampened blanket—the only cover left.

The thin fabric traced her curves. Cheeks burning, she stole glances at Chen Yaoyi seated at the foot of the bed.

*He’s Xia Tianle’s loyal servant… Why hand over evidence that could ruin his master?*

*And he had the chance… didn’t take it? Is he… gay? Into Xia Tianle?!*

The absurd thought shifted her gaze: disgust → pity → sympathy.

"What *are* you thinking?!"

Catching her strange look, Chen Yaoyi yanked the blanket—and her—forward. She landed flat on her back before him.

"Eep?! I was just—"

His stern face silenced her. Resistance felt impossible. Her body, softened by the massage, offered none.

Lu Zixuan’s mind drifted darkly. *Xia Tianle’s not here. Off with *her*. If he cheats before marriage… why stay pure?*

She braced for his touch. For defilement.

Chen Yaoyi’s hand shot up—gripped her throat.

Eyes wide. *He’s killing me?!*

Two seconds later, he chuckled and released her.

"I might enjoy someone like you," he said lightly, "but only *after* you drop this self-destructive act. Yes, I threatened you—but without the awareness of being threatened? Boring."

He let go, walked to the other side of the spacious bed, and lay down. Turned his head. Watched her.

Chest rising softly with breath. Slender fingers clutching the blanket over bare skin. Flushed cheeks. Shy, flickering eyes.

She stared back. *Who refuses a feast laid bare?*

Not that she wanted a lowlife like him anyway.

By this alone, he couldn’t compare to her fiancé.

"What do you mean… 'awareness of being threatened'?"

"Hm? Curious?" Chen Yaoyi’s eyes gleamed. "Then I’ll explain—no holding back!"

He enjoyed playing the blond cuckolder—not for the act itself, but for the tension: resistance melting into reluctant submission. Self-destructive surrender? No thanks.

"Keep it short—"

*Knock, knock, knock.*

"Lu Zixuan? Are you still awake?"