Chapter 8 – Offering Wine

After the meal, Qin Zhan offered to help wash the dishes, but Du Li insisted he go relax and wait for some fruit.

The younger brother had already dashed back to his room to play video games, leaving Qin Zhan and Bai Ling alone in the living room. As Qin Zhan began tidying up, Bai Ling handed him some snacks and fruit, along with the red envelope Du Li had prepared for him.

“Are you going to the hospital later?”

“No, I’m heading home.” Qin Zhan refused the red envelope Bai Ling offered.

“Please take it,” Bai Ling urged. “It’s Mom’s way of thanking you for your hard work. It’s not just a handout—my brother has really made significant progress.”

Qin Zhan shook his head. “My scholarship is coming through soon.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” Bai Ling stuffed the envelope into Qin Zhan’s pocket, preventing him from returning it. “If you refuse, Mom will be disappointed.”

“Let me tend to your wound again.” Bai Ling quickly changed the subject when she saw Qin Zhan reaching for the envelope. Her gaze drifted to his adam’s apple, her fingers instinctively reaching toward the scab. “Did you burn yourself here…?”

Before her hand could touch him, Qin Zhan turned his head away.

“I… I’m sorry,” Bai Ling stammered, knowing Qin Zhan disliked physical contact.

“I’ll head back now,” Qin Zhan said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His expression remained unreadable.

“Oh, okay. Be careful on your way home.”

“You…”

“What is it?” Bai Ling asked, a little puzzled. This was the first time Qin Zhan had initiated a conversation with her.

“Are you very close to Zhou Liao now?”

Bai Ling’s face flushed crimson. She quickly waved her hands in denial. “No, not at all. He just helped me out that one day, and I was returning his clothes. We exchanged contact information, but the day you saw us together was only our second meeting.”

Qin Zhan didn’t press for details. “…Mm. Don’t get too close to him.”

Bai Ling was taken aback. Qin Zhan didn’t strike her as someone who gossiped, so his sudden warning felt rather peculiar. Still, considering Zhou Liao’s polarized public image, she could understand why Qin Zhan might say that.

She wanted to say that Zhou Liao didn’t seem like that kind of person, but she also appreciated Qin Zhan’s well-intentioned warning. “He’s just a classmate,” she said. “We’re not very close yet.”

Qin Zhan simply nodded and remained silent.

He returned to school the following week. After being beaten that night, by the time he dragged his injured body home, dawn was already breaking. The next day, his head throbbed so fiercely he could barely eat. When he woke up again that afternoon, he disinfected the bruises covering his body. The blister on his adam’s apple had burst, leaving behind a patch of raw, festering flesh. Qin Zhan stared at it for a long moment before finally dabbing it with rubbing alcohol.

Walking from the cafeteria back to his dorm, Qin Zhan felt eyes on him. He had always maintained a low profile at school, and these probing stares made him uneasy. Even the usually indifferent counselor had summoned him to his office to ask about the injury on his face.

“What happened to your face?” the counselor asked hesitantly, eyeing the undeniable bruises covering half of Qin Zhan’s face. “Were you… beaten up?”

Qin Zhan glanced at him and murmured, “Mm.”

The counselor paused, seemingly unable to imagine someone like Qin Zhan getting into a fight. The wounds looked like they had been inflicted with lethal intent. “What happened? Was it someone from the school?”

“Even if I told you who it was, would the school actually do anything?” Qin Zhan’s tone was dismissive.

“Of course, this kind of behavior is unacceptable. If this is true, the school will definitely take immediate action. So, who did this to you?”

“Zhou Liao.”

The moment those two words left Qin Zhan’s lips, the counselor broke into a cold sweat. Zhou Liao’s family had been deeply involved in politics and business for three generations. The school had no real authority over him—not even the principal dared to cross Zhou Liao’s parents.

Qin Zhan had never expected the school to do anything anyway. Seeing the counselor’s flustered expression, he said calmly, “I have class. I should get going.”

“…Alright,” the counselor cleared his throat self-consciously. “Qin Zhan, don’t go spreading this around. The school will handle it.”

Without another word, Qin Zhan pushed open the office door and left.

……

The bar was bustling with patrons that evening. After a while, the storeroom door swung open, and Ollie emerged carrying an empty tray. He tugged at the hem of his uniform shirt, swallowed hard as he gazed at Qin Zhan’s broad back.

“Qin Zhan… um…”

Qin Zhan turned his head. “What is it?”

“That table’s back again.”

Qin Zhan seemed puzzled. Ollie scratched his head. “You know, the group that caused trouble last time? They’re in a private room this time… and they specifically asked for you to join them.”

Seeing Qin Zhan didn’t move, Ollie took a deep breath. “The injuries on your body… did they do that too?”

Qin Zhan lowered his gaze. “I’ll go see what they want first.”

“Should I get the manager to call the police?” Ollie asked, sounding anxious.

“It’s fine.”

“But…”

Before Ollie could finish his sentence, Qin Zhan had already washed his hands and left.

The private room was thick with cigarette smoke, the music pounding so loud it made their hearts race. Six or seven men lounged on the sofas, most with women in their arms. When Qin Zhan’s eyes met Zhou Liao’s, the latter was exhaling a plume of smoke, obscuring his arrogant, devilish features behind a hazy veil.

“Do you need any help?” Qin Zhan stood expressionlessly by the table.

Zhou Liao seemed to be admiring the wounds on Qin Zhan’s face. He crooked a finger at him. “Come here.”

Qin Zhan didn’t move. Zhou Liao, with forced patience, repeated, “I told you to come here. Don’t you understand?”

All eyes turned to Qin Zhan. Under the collective gaze, he sat down next to Zhou Liao. The moment he settled, the gauze covering his face was abruptly ripped off, the sudden tear stinging the skin where the adhesive had been.

“Ah… it’s all bruised like this,” Zhou Liao murmured, his lips curling into a smirk as he surveyed the crisscrossing bruises on Qin Zhan’s cheek. “It should heal by next week, right?”

Qin Zhan remained silent. The man who had beaten him last time spoke first. Qin Zhan still remembered him.

“No one’s in the mood right now. We called you here to keep us entertained. I’m sure the staff here can help spice things up.”

“We have escorts who pour drinks.”

“But we want you.” The man picked up a glass of liquor and handed it to Qin Zhan, his gaze fixed on Zhou Liao. “Drink up.”

Qin Zhan didn’t take the glass. Zhou Liao leaned back, a cigarette dangling from his lips, watching him impassively.

Qin Zhan lifted his eyelids, meeting Zhou Liao’s increasingly impatient gaze. Before he could make another move, the ice-cold glass was suddenly slammed against his lips and teeth, the force nearly pressing his lips white. Half the alcohol poured down his throat, while the other half dribbled from the corner of his mouth down his jaw.

He choked, coughing uncontrollably, each cough intensifying the pain in his facial muscles and throat.

“Such a waste,” the man holding the glass sneered. “Do you know how much Boss Liao paid for this drink?”

Zhou Liao turned his head, sneering at Qin Zhan’s disheveled appearance. “Qin Zhan, do you think reporting me to the teacher is going to help? Are you still in elementary school, thinking some lowly counselor can actually help you?”

Qin Zhan wiped the dripping alcohol from his chin with the knuckles of his fingers. He hadn’t expected the school to intervene, nor had he imagined the counselor would immediately tell Zhou Liao about it. No wonder they’d come knocking again tonight.

“No,” he replied.

“No what? No, you didn’t report me?”

The surrounding group erupted in laughter, their mockery laced with malice.

“No, I didn’t think he’d help,” Qin Zhan said calmly.

“Good to know,” Zhou Liao said, draping his arm over the sofa back. He was growing increasingly fond of Qin Zhan’s aloof demeanor. The more aloof he was now, the more striking the contrast would be later.

“We already told your manager—five thousand for one night with you. You’re more expensive than some women around here,” the man beside him said, clapping Qin Zhan on the shoulder.

The earlier laughter grew more unrestrained and grating, blending with the pulsating music. The private room felt like a twisted blend of heaven and hell.

Qin Zhan stared at the liquor table for a long moment before reaching out. But his hand had barely touched the glass when Zhou Liao stopped him.

“Hold on. It feels like such a waste to let you drink this expensive liquor alone.”

The sycophantic man immediately sensed Zhou Liao’s dissatisfaction. His eyes darted around before landing on the woman who had been sitting in his lap earlier. “Honey, come feed him.”

The moment the words left his lips, every eye in the room widened, the atmosphere reaching a fever pitch. Qin Zhan, like a corpse devoid of emotion, being fed alcohol by a woman’s lips—the mere thought of his reaction sent a wave of excitement through the crowd, as if they were about to witness a spectacular show.

The woman beside him paused briefly, but Zhou Liao remained silent, leaning back casually on the sofa.

She gazed at Zhou Liao’s handsome face and, as if feigning shyness, muttered, “You’re so annoying,” before obediently taking a sip of the wine. Then, she draped her arm around Qin Zhan’s shoulder, pressing her curvaceous figure against his as she leaned in for a kiss.

Just as their lips were about to touch, Qin Zhan frowned slightly and turned his head, leaving the woman awkwardly craning her neck upward.

“What’s wrong? You’re turning down a personal feeding from a beauty?” The person across the table laughed.

“Yeah, what kind of man are you?”

“He’s not even reacting. Is something wrong with him?”

Zhou Liao lit another cigarette.

The woman stared at the icy figure before her, desperately trying to ignore his frigid, glacial gaze. Her eyes held a hint of pleading, fearing the unknown that awaited her after another rejection.

But once again, her kiss landed on empty air as Qin Zhan turned his head.

“I’ll drink it myself.”

“Don’t you think we should decide how you drink?”

Zhou Liao’s patience was wearing thin. As he spoke, two sharp knocks echoed on the door before it was pushed open.

When Ollie pushed open the door and saw the woman draped over Qin Zhan, he was momentarily disoriented. All eyes in the room turned to him, and he nervously shuffled to the table, his limbs nearly tangling in his haste.

“Excuse me, these are the extra bottles of wine you ordered.”

“Oh, I almost forgot about the two I ordered earlier,” the man beside Qin Zhan said, stubbing out his cigarette as he took the bottles. “Just leave them here.”

“Alright.” Ollie’s mind raced. He didn’t know what was going on, but it was clear the group was bullying Qin Zhan.

“Wait.”

Just as he was about to turn and leave, someone called out from behind. Ollie turned to see the man who had told him to leave earlier beckoning him with a hooked finger.

“What is it, sir?”

Zhou Liao glanced at the man, seemingly unsure of his intentions. But the man’s next words made him smirk.

“Let’s play a game. You’ll feed him the wine… with your mouth.”

“Holy shit.” The crowd erupted in cheers, as if no one had expected things to escalate this far.

“You guys, come hold him down,” the man grinned, already moving forward. This table was worth tens of thousands tonight, and he was only able to pull off this stunt by cozying up to Zhou Liao. He needed to keep Zhou Liao in a good mood and entertained to potentially squeeze more favors from him in the future.

Qin Zhan immediately stood up, clearly shocked that Zhou Liao would actually go along with this.

“Zhou Liao!”

Zhou Liao shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t touch him.”

Watching Qin Zhan’s desperate struggle, Ollie instantly went limp as the man slapped his already bruised cheek. Seizing the opportunity, the others pinned him down on the sofa, holding him firmly in place. He barely managed to suppress a scream.

“You—come here and feed him wine. I’ll give you a thousand yuan for each shot you get down him,” the man said, turning to Ollie. “He’s good-looking; you won’t be losing out.”

“Sir, this…”

“Two thousand.”

Ollie took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his fingertips trembling. At home, he had a grandfather who lived hand-to-mouth, shining shoes to make ends meet, and a father who needed rectal surgery. And… he was gay and had always secretly desired Qin Zhan.

“Looks like the money’s not enough,” Zhou Liao drawled, lifting his eyelids lazily.

Ollie’s entire body shook uncontrollably. After a dozen seconds, he opened his eyes and, under the circus-like gaze of everyone in the room, picked up a glass of wine from the table and took a mouthful.

“Fucking desperate for cash, huh?”

“Maybe he’s one of those guys who does that for money.”

Qin Zhan watched as Ollie sat on top of him. He began to struggle violently, but the men’s fingers seemed to dig into his bones, immobilizing him.

“Ollie,” he hissed, his eyes burning into the man before him, red as if they might bleed at any moment.

The man shook his head, as if to say, I’m sorry.

Qin Zhan’s crimson eyes burned into Ollie, his icy glare piercing through him.

“Hurry up, your chance to strike it rich is right here!” someone impatiently urged.

Ollie’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest. He mentally kowtowed and apologized to Qin Zhan repeatedly, but he was desperately short on money. He could barely scrape by on normal days, but reality had long ago secretly forced such ants into shameless beasts, crawling and fawning before money and power. Even with the slightest chance, they clung to life, struggling to climb upward.

He cradled Qin Zhan’s face, tears threatening to spill over, when the man suddenly jerked his head violently, striking Ollie’s cheekbone with bruising force.

“This is no fun at all,” Qin Zhan snarled.

The man standing nearby, eager to impress Zhou Liao and avoid spoiling his mood, had reached the breaking point of his patience. He stood up, pinched Qin Zhan’s jaw, and forced his mouth open, ignoring whether his thumb pressed down on the man’s throbbing bruise.

“Come on, let’s see how much you can take tonight.”

With those words, Ollie once again cradled Qin Zhan’s face and kissed him, as if frantically trying to force every last drop of alcohol into the other man’s mouth before time ran out.

As Zhou Liao listened to the choking, anguished sobs beside him, his gaze gradually fixed on one spot. He seemed to have found some amusing reaction, and then, above the blaring music, he burst into wild laughter.