LABMY CH21.1

It was hot.

Jian Yuanbai felt like all his other senses had faded away, leaving only this singular sensation — heat. But it wasn’t the kind of heat that made one sweat profusely. It was a subtle, burning sensation, as if something deep within him was stirring restlessly, eager to break free.

The surrounding environment was dim, and though he could vaguely tell he was inside a room, the world before his eyes seemed shrouded in a thin layer of mist. The lights were clearly on, yet everything remained hazy.

Feeling unbearably stifled, Jian Yuanbai loosened his tie with one hand and turned his head, hoping to find some relief. However, as he turned, he unexpectedly locked eyes with someone.

The eyes were beautiful, reflecting the fragmented light from above, like stars shimmering in a dark night. The owner of those eyes curved their lips into a soft smile, eyes narrowing slightly in a playful and affectionate manner as they gazed at him.

Jian Yuanbai felt an inexplicable familiarity with this face, yet he couldn’t recall who it was.

The person’s cold, pale face slowly drew closer. Jian Yuanbai stood frozen in place, unable to move or avoid it. The soft, full lips approached his, inch by inch.

Jian Yuanbai’s heart raced uncontrollably, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down nervously.

At the very moment their lips were about to touch, the person suddenly tilted their head, brushing past his lips and leaving a fleeting warmth on his cheek.

It was only then that Jian Yuanbai realized — he had been holding his breath.

Although they hadn’t kissed, an inexplicable sense of disappointment surged within him.

The person rested their flawless, porcelain-like face against Jian Yuanbai’s shoulder and leaned into his embrace.

The warm breath against his neck, coupled with the faintly murmured “Gege…” , ignited the smoldering heat within him, like a spark falling onto dry tinder.

The atmosphere grew increasingly ambiguous. The warmth in his arms made Jian Yuanbai’s mouth go dry.

Unable to suppress himself any longer, Jian Yuanbai forcefully pulled the person in his arms away.

The person looked up at him with teary eyes, lips pursed in grievance.

Just as the other party seemed about to speak, Jian Yuanbai cupped their delicate chin and kissed them fiercely.

It was Jian Yuanbai’s first kiss.

The sensation of lips and teeth intertwining was far more intoxicating than he had imagined. At first, he simply licked and nibbled on those soft lips, savoring their texture. When the person frowned slightly from the gentle pain and their eyes became misty, Jian Yuanbai’s excitement surged.

He instinctively deepened the kiss, invading the other’s mouth and sweeping through every corner, leaving his mark on the sensitive inner walls.

Soon, he discovered the sweetest treasure within — the soft, trembling tongue that hesitantly responded to him. He entwined with it, teasing and tasting, even daring to trace along the surface of the other’s tongue with his own.

The scene shifted.

At some point, an old, narrow iron-framed bed appeared beneath them. Moonlight streamed through a small window, illuminating the cramped and worn-down room.

In the dim light, Jian Yuanbai finally saw the person beneath him clearly.

Tears shimmered in those beautiful eyes, threatening to fall. The tip of their nose was slightly red, and their lips were parted, panting softly. The glossy trail of saliva from their lingering kiss stained the flushed lips, while a tender, pink tongue peeked out to lick the corner of their mouth.

“Gege…”

The moment that soft, hoarse voice called out again, the final thread of restraint in Jian Yuanbai’s mind snapped.

Clothes piled up on the bedside like scattered petals.

The pale, snow-like skin beneath him was crushed and molded into blooming flowers by Jian Yuanbai’s hands.

In the end, with tears in their eyes, the person beneath him looked up at him with a hazy, dazed expression and asked softly, “Who am I…?”

“Jian-ge, who am I?”

Jian Yuanbai opened his mouth to respond—

And then, he woke up.

Staring blankly at the white ceiling, Jian Yuanbai’s mind was still clouded.

The only thought that surfaced was:

That person’s skin isn’t as white as this ceiling.

He’s whiter. Like fine jade. Like freshly fallen snow.

Suddenly, Jian Yuanbai shot up from the bed.

From a man who had never cursed in his life, a rare profanity escaped his lips:

“F*ck.”

That person… in the dream… was Wei Zhenge.

How could he…

How could he dream of doing such things…

To his obedient, well-behaved little pillow?

He was an absolute beast.

Jian Yuanbai’s internal breakdown was interrupted by an awkward situation beneath the sheets.

Lifting the blanket to check, he collapsed back onto the bed in despair.

…He’d need at least ten minutes for this to subside.

Ten minutes later, the sound of the shower echoed from the bathroom.

However, after ten whole minutes of cold water, not a single trace of steam had risen.

In his twenty-something years of life, Jian Yuanbai had never experienced such a shameful and depraved dream.

And it seemed…

Cold water wasn’t going to help.

With his eyes shut tight, Jian Yuanbai’s sinful hand slowly reached downward.

In his mind, the vivid details of the dream flooded back—

The trembling snow-white skin blooming into flowers under his touch…

The sweet, hoarse voice calling him “Gege”…

His breathing grew heavy, then gradually subsided.

When Jian Yuanbai finally emerged from the bathroom, expression dark and filled with self-loathing—

He bumped directly into the subject of his spring dream.

Wei Zhenge blinked in confusion.

“Jian-ge…?”

“Why are you taking a cold shower this early in the morning? You’ll catch a cold.”

Jian-ge… Gege…

Jian Yuanbai’s breath hitched.

I’m done for.

The image of that beautiful face, tearful in the dream, seemed to reappear before his eyes. Having just had a spring dream and running into the very person from that dream—how should one react? Jian Yuanbai had no idea.

All he knew was that, as he looked at Wei Zhenge, his heart pounded wildly in his chest, beating like a thunderous drum.

Jian Yuanbai closed his eyes briefly, striving to appear composed as he said, “I woke up sweating, so I took a cold shower.”

After speaking, he didn’t give Wei Zhenge a chance to respond and turned around, retreating to his room. He quickly got dressed and fled the scene, leaving the house in what could only be described as an escape.

Wei Zhenge was left standing there, staring at his phone, which displayed a temperature of eleven degrees Celsius, falling into deep thought.

Eleven degrees… sweating from the heat?

At the office, Jian Yuanbai was utterly unable to concentrate on his work, sighing endlessly at his desk.

On one hand, he felt tainted. His virginity was meant to be saved for his future wife, but in his dream, he had indulged in passionate intimacy with “Little Pillow” — who was clearly not his wife.

The worst part? He was the one who took the initiative in the dream! He was no longer pure!

On the other hand, Jian Yuanbai felt like a complete pervert. He had always thought of “Little Pillow” as someone to care for, almost like a child. Yet, this sensual dream had ruthlessly shattered his self-perception.

And the most unforgivable part… he was the one who initiated everything in the dream! What a beast he was.

Despite this internal turmoil, Jian Yuanbai couldn’t stop himself from recalling the details of the dream. In the dream, Little Pillow’s teary eyes, the faint glimpse of their tongue between parted lips, and the trembling, slender shoulders…

No! He couldn’t keep thinking about this. The dream itself already filled him with guilt. If he kept indulging in these memories, wouldn’t that make him even more of a deviant?

But… Little Pillow was so soft in the dream. Soft and sweet.

Jian Yuanbai’s mind was in a fierce battle between heaven and hell. One side condemned him, while the other indulged in increasingly vivid memories.

He recalled the room from the dream — the narrow, old space where he and Little Pillow had once lived. The iron-framed bed, the tiny window, and the faint moonlight streaming in through the cracks.

Everything was exactly the same as that one night when he, disliking the cramped sofa, quietly crawled into bed and half-embraced Little Pillow as they slept.

It was as if… he had harbored these feelings long ago, only suppressing them until now.

Jian Yuanbai sighed endlessly, to the point where the system in his head couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “You’ve been sighing all morning. Are you an air valve?”

Jian Yuanbai ignored the sarcastic remark and asked in a melancholic tone, “Tiantian, if someone had intimate relations with another person without them knowing… should they take responsibility?”

The system replied coldly, “No need for responsibility. Just turn yourself in.”

“That’s s3xual assault. Straight to jail.”

Jian Yuanbai’s eyes widened in horror. “No, no, I mean… what if neither party was aware?”

The system’s tone became uncertain. “How is that even possible? Drunken s3x? I guess… someone has to take responsibility.”

Upon hearing this, Jian Yuanbai immediately stood up. This was exactly the answer he was waiting for. “Then I’m going.”

System: ?

“Where… are you going?”

Jian Yuanbai’s tone was filled with anticipation. “To tell Little Pillow that I’ll take responsibility. Or… he can take responsibility for me.”

System: ???

“Wait, wait, wait! You and Wei Zhenge actually did it? When? Where? How did I not know?!”

The system felt like a massive hammer had struck its head, leaving it utterly dazed.

Jian Yuanbai’s voice softened shyly, “It was… last night… in my dream.”

“You son of a—”

Overwhelmed with frustration, the system nearly wanted to leap out and beat Jian Yuanbai up. “That was just a dream! How can you take responsibility for something that happened in a dream?!”

Jian Yuanbai stubbornly argued, “But I’m still a virgin. I was saving myself for my future wife. But now… I’m no longer pure.”

“So… Little Pillow has to take responsibility for me.”

The system gritted its teeth. “That was just a damn dream! It wasn’t real! And weren’t you supposed to stay pure for your future wife? How does taking responsibility for Wei Zhenge make any sense?”

Jian Yuanbai blinked in confusion. “But I don’t have a wife yet. If Little Pillow agrees… he’ll be my wife.”

The system froze.

It recalled how, back then, Jian Yuanbai had sworn to remain pure for his future wife, and how it had foolishly relaxed, thinking this idiot would stay on the right path.

How naive it was!

Realizing that getting angry was pointless, the system tried to reason with him. “A dream is called a dream because it never actually happened. You’re still a virgin. You don’t need to take responsibility for Wei Zhenge, nor does he need to take responsibility for you.”

Jian Yuanbai, however, insisted, “No. I’m no longer pure.”

The system’s virtual face twisted in frustration. It tried another angle. “Think about it. You’re tying yourself to Wei Zhenge because of a dream. You don’t actually love him. Would that really make you happy?”

Jian Yuanbai fell silent and sat back down, seemingly deep in thought.

The system let out a long sigh of relief, thinking it had finally convinced him.

Just as it relaxed, Jian Yuanbai suddenly said, with a serious and joyful tone, “I thought about it.”

“I think… I’d be very happy.”

The system looked at him, fully understanding that all of Jian Yuanbai’s sighs since morning and his questions about responsibility were merely attempts to cover up his true thoughts.

When the system hesitated and said that responsibility might be necessary, Jian Yuanbai immediately stood up and prepared to find Wei Zhenge, without a shred of hesitation.

Yet, when the system pointed out that it was just a dream and there was no need to take responsibility, Jian Yuanbai began arguing with it using all sorts of logic.

From the moment Jian Yuanbai asked that question, he was only waiting for one answer.

The system silently clenched its little cat paws. Fine. If that’s how it is, don’t blame me.

“Have you ever considered this? You can only stay in this world for one year. Let’s not even talk about whether Wei Zhenge would accept you. What happens when you leave after a year?”

Jian Yuanbai didn’t even think twice: “I won’t leave.”

The system’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re planning to stay in this world?”

Receiving Jian Yuanbai’s firm response, the system immediately activated the teleportation channel to send him away.

One minute passed. Two minutes passed. Three minutes passed.

They were still in this world.

The system, utterly defeated, realized that they really couldn’t leave—for now.

It seemed that because its power wasn’t strong enough, without finishing the protagonist’s cliché monologue, the host couldn’t be sent away.

The system was filled with hatred.

…But whatever. This works too.

Jian Yuanbai, under the illusion that he had successfully convinced the system, happily drove home. He had no idea that the so-called “one-year limit” was impossible to enforce. Even if he did know, he wouldn’t care.

After all, if he wanted to stay, the system couldn’t send him away.

This was exactly where Jian Yuanbai’s confidence came from when he boldly declared that Wei Zhenge would be his “wife.” How could he possibly leave his future wife all alone in this world? Impossible.

Because he had a business negotiation today, the company’s vice president insisted he switch from his motorcycle to a sedan.

As a result, Jian Yuanbai arrived home much faster than usual.

The moment he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Wei Zhenge and his physics tutor, both turning their heads to look at him.

One held a textbook, the other held a notebook, diligently taking notes.

Under such a heavy academic atmosphere, Jian Yuanbai’s overheated brain instantly cooled down.

“I just came back to grab something. You guys continue,” Jian Yuanbai waved his hand, signaling Wei Zhenge to ignore him. Then, he pretended to retrieve an empty file folder from his room before quietly leaving.

Wei Zhenge’s identity as a high school senior not only sobered Jian Yuanbai up but also reminded him of something crucial—

In the original plot, Wei Zhenge had three wives. Three. Whole. Wives.

This also indirectly confirmed one thing:

Little Pillow was, most likely… 90%… straight.

The word “straight” shattered Jian Yuanbai’s heart on the spot.

What could be worse than waking up from a pure-hearted virgin’s dream only to realize he had turned gay?

…Facing the fact that the person who turned him gay was actually a straight man.

With no one to share his suffering, Jian Yuanbai could only harass the system: “Tiantian, I think… Little Pillow might be straight.”

The system, watching Jian Yuanbai run further and further off the rails of the original plot, ruthlessly stabbed him in the heart, “Not ‘might be.’ He definitely is.”

“Three wives in the future. Give up.”

Give up? Impossible.

After a brief moment of despair, Jian Yuanbai righteously declared, “I alone can beat all three!”

The system: “In terms of quantity, you’ve already lost.”

Jian Yuanbai: “But in terms of quality, I’ve won.”

The system sneered, “Bullshit.”

Jian Yuanbai shot back, “Nonsense.”

The two bickered like elementary school kids before falling silent.

A moment later, Jian Yuanbai asked quietly, “Do you think… seducing him with my looks would work?”

The system: “Have some dignity.”

Jian Yuanbai: “I’ve lost my dignity, but I’ve gained a wife.”

The system fell silent.

Fine. You win.