RBNR Ch34: Lust leads to suffering

In the deep hours of the night, only the two of them remained in the bridal chamber.

Qin Bao showered first. After blow-drying his hair, he plunged headfirst onto the two-meter-wide king bed. Seated in the armchair beside the floor-to-ceiling window, Feng Chengyu looked down at his phone, his spine held straight as a ramrod.

A loose lock of the Alpha’s hair fell across his brow. He had shed his tuxedo jacket long ago, and at some point, three buttons of his dress shirt had come undone, faintly exposing his sculpted, broad pectoral muscles beneath the slightly parted fabric.

Seeing Feng Chengyu put his phone down and stand up, Qin Bao quickly grabbed his own phone and started busywork.

His phone was overflowing with unread messages. In the wedding planning group, everyone was sharing photos; Professor Lin had taken the best ones, sending quite a few shots of the two of them together.

Surprisingly, Feng Chengyu had posted one as well—judging by the timestamp, it was taken just moments ago.

In the frame, Qin Bao was the crystal-clear subject. The guest blurred into the background appeared to be a petite Beta girl, while Qin Bao held a wine glass, leaning in with gentlemanly poise to listen intently.

Wedding Photographer: [Mr. Feng took this remarkably well. Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder; the camera presence is stunning! Plus, Mr. Qin is a top supermodel to begin with, so it came out at a professional standard.]

Mr. Qin: [Thumbs Up]

Professor Lin: [This one of Chengyu’s is wonderful. Was it taken during the afterparty?]

Wedding Planner: [So amazing! So many segments today turned out even better than anticipated, and the photos are just like an idol drama [Covers Eyes], such a dreamy wedding. Wishing Mr. Feng and Mr. Qin a joyful, harmonious newlywed life!]

Ms. Rong: [Saved.]

Professor Feng: [Thumbs Up]

Shu Helan: [Unbelievable, completely captivating.]

Even Old Master Qin, who rarely touched a smartphone, chimed in with a post: [Clap][Clap]

Qin Bao: “…”

When was this taken…

Why did Feng Chengyu take a picture like this?

Qin Bao hadn’t even realized he had engaged with a guest in such a manner.

Over on the other side, Feng Chengyu finally entered the bathroom. Tossing his phone aside, Qin Bao exhaled a long breath.

What a strange sensation.

He had long grown accustomed to jet-setting around the globe, waking up every day in beds across different hotels, so why did he feel so unsettled right now?

Was it because this was his first night staying in a brand-new house?

Qin Bao had bought this property a few months ago. Originally, they were supposed to use the home Feng Chengyu owned as their marital home, but Qin Bao had refused. To live in a house of his own—and one that couldn’t fall short compared to Feng Chengyu’s—Qin Bao had paid an exorbitant sum.

Every decent location cost a fortune. Even though his earnings had been substantial over the past two years, purchasing this house outright had practically drained his savings dry. Investing in real estate counted as putting money to good use, so it didn’t matter much. After the wedding, the families had offered their small household some financial backing, but Qin Bao hadn’t touched a single cent.

The renovations had been entrusted to Feng Chengyu; Qin Bao had only visited once midway through. Many prominent figures lived in this neighborhood; during his visit, he had even bumped into Ying Chen, the dual-crowned Best Actor, walking along the lawn. Still young, the man had clinched two Category-A film festival Best Actor awards just last year for the film The Mortal Realm.

As their new marital residence, the moving company had relocated both their belongings a few days earlier.

Qin Bao hadn’t been present; professional organizers had unpacked and arranged everything.

Feng Chengyu was remarkably adaptable. When Qin Bao put on a generous front and declared, “No rent needed, I’m letting you stay for five years free of charge,” the man had simply replied with an agreeable “Alright.”

Still, coming back tonight, Qin Bao had almost coughed up blood.

In a house this massive, the designer had actually drafted only a single bedroom just to accommodate an oversized walk-in closet! What kind of trash designer was that!

Was Feng Chengyu really so strapped for cash that he couldn’t afford to furnish a second bedroom?!

In short, having only one bedroom meant they were forced to sleep in the same bed.

The room was perfumed with aromatherapy scents, and the duvet was blanketed with white rose petals. At the foot of the bed sat an exquisite box tied with a satin ribbon. Qin Bao had assumed it was some wedding gift, only to open it and find two sets of silk loungewear; nestled underneath was an even more delicate container holding condoms and lubricant. Catching a single glimpse had terrified him so badly that he snapped the box shut and shoved it straight under the bed.

So… are we supposed to do it later or not?

Qin Bao bit his lip, hesitating.

Their contract didn’t seem to mention a clause about this.

Strange. Why hadn’t either of them brought up such a crucial condition back then?

While his mind was wandering wildly, Feng Chengyu stepped out of the bathroom, toweling his damp hair dry.

Fuck?

Why isn’t he wearing a bathrobe? Doesn’t he know someone else is in the room?

Feng Chengyu was bare-chested, wearing only a bath towel wrapped around his waist.

The walk-in closet connected directly to the master bedroom. The moment Feng Chengyu stepped into the wardrobe area, he pulled the towel off; evidently, the cabinets right by the entrance stored his clothing.

He stood there, unhurriedly shifting hangers aside to retrieve a black silk robe.

On the night of that banquet, Qin Bao hadn’t seen a single thing clearly in the pitch-black darkness, navigating everything purely by touch.

Though the morning firelight had offered a fleeting glimpse upon waking, it couldn’t compare to the sheer visual impact before his eyes right now—a full-length mirror stood beside Feng Chengyu, allowing Qin Bao to see every detail with utter clarity from his vantage point.

His frame, his build, and the tone of his skin.

The defined valleys of his abdominal muscles and V-line, down to what lay further below… every single part was laid bare before him.

The longer Qin Bao looked, the hotter his face burned.

Was he really that impressive?

He began chanting mental sutras.

Form is emptiness, emptiness is form; lust is a blade resting over one’s neck.

…

If you don’t look, you’re losing out. He didn’t put on clothes or shut the door—isn’t he practically offering himself up to be looked at?

Shamelessly, Qin Bao watched the entire sequence from start to finish.

The moment Feng Chengyu knotted his belt and stepped out, Qin Bao rolled over instantly, shutting his eyes tight to fake sleep.

He didn’t want anything else, but surely taking a look was harmless enough?

Suddenly, Qin Bao felt the mattress sink. The scent of shower gel, mingled with the crisp aroma of a certain flower and an approaching heat source, drew close.

Forgetting his act, he sat up abruptly: “Could you sleep on the sofa? I’m not used to sharing a bed.”

The sofas in the new house were plenty long; the wraparound sectional downstairs was large enough to fit four Feng Chengyus laid end to end.

Feng Chengyu’s black robe was fastened tightly, exposing only a small patch of skin beneath the collar that appeared cool and fair under the lighting. His long fingers resting atop the light duvet exuded an undeniable ascetic restraint.

His counter was entirely reasonable: “No. I’m not used to sleeping on a sofa.”

Both sat atop the bed, with that particular box tucked right beneath it, radiating heavy suggestive tension.

Both had just showered, their skin giving off waves of warmth. The tangled sheets and scattered flower petals created an atmosphere that couldn’t be more ambiguous.

Qin Bao kept his expression stiff, deliberately throwing shade: “How do I know you won’t try anything on me?”

Feng Chengyu looked at him calmly: “If you aren’t willing, I won’t.”

Now Qin Bao had no counter left. Asking him to go sleep on the couch was utterly out of the question, yet he had no legitimate reason to bar Feng Chengyu from the bed either—after all, it wasn’t written into the contract.

Resigning himself, he burrowed back under the duvet, lying flat as a board with his eyes shut: “Then please turn off the light, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Complying, Feng Chengyu switched off the light.

The room plunged into pitch darkness. Feng Chengyu lifted the duvet and lay down; the bed was vast enough that they didn’t brush against each other in the slightest. Soon, only the faint, steady rhythm of their breathing lingered in the quiet room.

The Alpha’s pheromones drifted out quietly. They were faint, but given their close proximity, their presence was overwhelmingly distinct to Qin Bao. His breathing grew unsteady, and the scent gland at his nape began to throb softly—though it had only experienced it once, it seemed to have developed an addiction to the sensation of being pierced, tingling with heat and an uncontrollable itch.

If this continued, it would inevitably release pheromones on its own; that reaction was entirely beyond an Omega’s conscious control, innately craving to entangle with high-compatibility Alpha pheromones.

Feng Chengyu made no sound.

With his back to him, Qin Bao cupped a hand over his nape, wishing he could force it to calm down.

It doesn’t matter, he comforted himself.

Their compatibility was so high that Feng Chengyu couldn’t be having an easy time either. Aside from heat cycles, Alphas were physiologically far less capable of endurance than Omegas; Feng Chengyu would definitely break first.

In short, he wouldn’t be the first to speak up.

Biting his lip, Qin Bao slipped out of bed in the dark.

Scent patches had been stocked in the bathroom. He peeled one open and slapped it over his nape. Glancing at his reflection with flushed eye corners in the mirror, he inhaled his blockers, splashed his face with cold water, and finally climbed back into bed carrying a cool chill.

This time, he lay facing Feng Chengyu.

Feng Chengyu didn’t ask what he had gone to do. He simply lay there properly, honoring his pledge of “won’t try anything.” Once his eyes acclimated to the darkness, Qin Bao could trace the undulating contour of his profile and the faint shadow cast by his eyelashes.

A sudden wave of indignation stirred within him. Qin Bao thought to himself: It’s not like I explicitly said I was unwilling…

After about ten minutes, the restless heat subsided. Worn out from a grueling day, drowsiness finally overtook him.

…

Their wedding night passed in peaceful quiet.

Come morning, sunlight filtered through the leaves, spilling into the room.

When Qin Bao woke up, he was alone on the bed; the other side was empty, with no sign of Feng Chengyu. For a moment, he couldn’t process where he was. Sitting up against the piercing golden light, he only then remembered this was their marital home.

Barefoot, he padded into the bathroom, where two toothbrushes rested on the counter.

After washing up, he casually threw on a robe and headed downstairs, catching the faint aroma of frying eggs while still halfway down the steps.

In the open-concept kitchen, Feng Chengyu stood before the stove.

Likely having gone out for a run, he wore athletic wear that accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs, looking tailor-made for an embrace from behind.

Hearing Qin Bao descend the stairs, Feng Chengyu asked naturally, “Awake? Want me to make you a portion?”

“Mm. I want a soft-boiled yolk, don’t overcook it, thanks.”

His heartbeat quickening slightly, Qin Bao walked over as casually as possible.

“You know how to cook? Learned it abroad?”

“No,” Feng Chengyu said. “Both my parents were busy with work, so I started sorting out my own meals back in elementary school.”

“Really?” Qin Bao was skeptical; he hadn’t even known you needed to add water to rice until middle school.

He realized he actually knew nothing about Feng Chengyu.

“After going abroad, I rarely cooked, actually.”

Feng Chengyu cracked an egg into the skillet with one hand and asked Qin Bao:

“Want milk?”

“I don’t like milk. Smelling my own pheromones is more than enough.” Qin Bao scanned the nearby counter, then opened an upper cabinet to peer inside. “I want multigrain porridge. Do you want some?”

Receiving an affirmative nod, Qin Bao retrieved a small appliance, poured out a variety of beans and grains from the cabinet, rinsed them clean, measured in water, tossed them in, and hit the start button.

The entire sequence was remarkably deft.

Catching Feng Chengyu’s gaze on him, a suspicious flush crept over Qin Bao’s cheeks. Turning around, he leaned back against the counter edge: “What? Is it that weird that I know how to do this? Don’t underestimate people.”

Feng Chengyu: “It’s a little unexpected.”

Qin Bao explained, “Mama Tao taught me. You know, after that time I got hypoglycemia? Whenever I traveled for work after that, she’d have me pack this stuff. It’s very convenient, and you can make it on the road… What are you laughing at? I paid you back for burning your pot last time.”

“I wasn’t laughing at that.” Setting the spatula down, Feng Chengyu reached over and patted the crown of his head. “Your hair.”

Qin Bao’s hair had grown a bit long; he hadn’t trimmed it for the wedding, leaving it styled instead. After a night of sleep, a stubborn tuft stood straight up. He had spent ages smoothing it down in front of the mirror earlier, so why had it popped up again?

He was puzzled—how on earth had he slept last night? Aside from feeling pinned down by sleep paralysis all night, he had unprecedentedly managed to wake up with this ridiculous hairstyle.

Qin Bao knew he was attractive and rarely carried superficial vanity, but the moment Feng Chengyu pointed it out, he immediately clapped a hand over the stray lock: “What’s so funny about it? Haven’t you ever seen bedhead before? I’ll just wash it again in a bit and it’ll be fine.”

“Mm.”

Feng Chengyu hadn’t pulled his hand away yet. Their fingers brushed briefly, and both retracted their hands in an instant.

The kitchen fell quiet for a second, the atmosphere turning somewhat peculiar.

They had already slept together and gotten married, yet they still seemed far from close. Being alone together for this extended period was surprisingly a first for them.

It was also the very first time they had interacted like this—free of verbal sparring, treating each other with polite restraint.

Averting his face first, Qin Bao kindly pointed out: “…Mr. Feng, your egg is burnt.”

The phrasing carried an unintended double entendre.

Qin Bao clamped his mouth shut the second it left his lips.

Sizzling in the pan, that initially pristine egg was indeed scorched past saving. Feng Chengyu’s inaugural display of culinary prowess had ended poorly, yet he remained perfectly composed, giving a quiet “Mm” before lifting the pan to dump the blackened egg into the bin.

Seeing this, Qin Bao felt a pang of wastefulness. He immediately snatched the pan from the man’s grip, tipping the egg onto a plate while muttering, “You’re so wasteful. There are still parts that can be eaten, how could you just throw it out? If my grandfather were here and saw this, you’d get scolded.”

Qin Bao looked very docile like this.

With his prickly defenses retracted, he revealed an authentic, softer side. As he bowed his head picking at the charred egg, the sliver of fair neck bearing the scent patch looked equally gentle and well-behaved.

Setting the plate on the kitchen island, Qin Bao turned around, only to be closed in by Feng Chengyu.

The Alpha stood half a head taller, bracing both arms against the marble countertop on either side, caging him in between.

“What are you doing?”

Caught off guard, being hemmed in like this left Qin Bao slightly at a loss, the prickles he had just tucked away threatening to flare up again.

Feng Chengyu didn’t intend to do anything. He simply looked down at his face and uttered an unexpected phrase:

“Happy wedding.”

Qin Bao’s eyes, widened in irritation, froze. What the hell?

Why suddenly wish someone a happy wedding out of nowhere?

Sunlight illuminated Feng Chengyu’s deep, dark eyes, casting a golden hue over his eyelashes. Pinned within his reach, Qin Bao forgot to push him away.

“If you keep looking at me like that…” Feng Chengyu spoke abruptly, “…I’m going to misunderstand.”

Snapping back to his senses, Qin Bao reached out and shoved Feng Chengyu back lightly. His palm pressed through the fabric of the man’s athletic jacket against the chest muscles he had observed the night before, pulling away in a flash.

“It’s not a real marriage anyway, no need for such empty pleasantries.” Still feeling the lingering warmth against his palm, his ears burned as he returned the skillet to the stove: “Fry another egg.”

Author’s note:

Some people just wanted an excuse to touch his chest muscles.