Chapter 119 – Extra 11

Under Luo Chenzhou’s speechless gaze, Caesar lifted the lid of the toilet tank behind him, rummaged around inside, and successfully pulled out a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He took one out, placed it between his lips, and then reached behind the shelf holding toiletries, miraculously pulling out a lighter. Leaning lazily against the sink, he lit the cigarette, biting the filter before narrowing his eyes slightly to look at the black-haired young man sitting in the bathtub. “Are kids these days as open as you?”

Luo Chenzhou calmly met his gaze. “There aren’t many as reserved as me anymore.”

Caesar was taken aback for a moment, then curled his lips into a smirk, waving his hand as he lamented that the days of childhood, where crossing the invisible line on a desk would result in being stabbed with a compass by a desk mate, were long gone.

…But compared to Caesar, kids were still kids—too naive after all.

The toilet was right next to the bathtub’s water inlet. Caesar lowered the toilet seat and sat down with the grandeur of someone taking a throne, not needing an invitation from anyone. He rolled up his sleeves and, without a change in expression, reached into the bathtub—groping around, his rough fingertips brushing against something with a slightly different temperature and a more tangible shape…

Probably the kid’s toes.

Caesar guessed internally, but his face remained unfazed, exuding an “I know nothing” sincerity as he shamelessly gave it a few more deliberate strokes.

Finally, when the cowardly child in the bathtub, who could only talk big, retracted his foot in terror, Caesar chuckled, having had his fun.

“Sorry about that, my mistake. New bathtub, you know,” he said with zero sincerity, his muscular arm accurately turning in the bubbly water of the bathtub before flawlessly finding the drain plug at the end and pulling it out.

Throughout the entire process, Caesar never felt that there was anything wrong with a professor reaching into a bathtub to feel his student’s foot like a pervert—just as Luo Chenzhou never felt it was odd to be sitting naked in his professor’s bathtub.

The real issue was that both of them were so adept at being shameless in any situation—they were completely unaware that their bizarre logic might shatter the worldview of any normal person.

“If you want to soak a bit longer, make sure to refill the water, or you’ll catch a cold,” Caesar said with a feigned concern that had never existed in his personal dictionary, his face calm and his heart steady as he lectured his student. He pulled his hand out of the bathtub, and even though he had rolled up his sleeves beforehand, the edges of his light blue shirt were now soaked and dyed a beautiful sea blue.

Luo Chenzhou, as if suffering from OCD, stared at the slightly different-colored fabric for a while, until Caesar turned on the hot water tap beside him, and warm water once again gushed into the bathtub.

The sound of rushing water filled the bathtub, the warmth flowing from the toes closest to the inlet, traveling through the blood vessels, past the heart, and all the way up to the head. Luo Chenzhou blinked dazedly, feeling that the man sitting on the toilet, smoking a cigarette under the dim bathroom light, had suddenly become so beautiful and unreal—

Once, Luo Chenzhou thought it was all over, that all their memories should be left to settle in the Mediterranean Sea five hundred years ago; once, Luo Chenzhou thought all his feelings for Big Dog could only be entrusted to that short encyclopedia entry, which he could recite after reading ten times; once, Luo Chenzhou thought he must have done something damnable, like tearing off the roof of the Matchmaker God’s house, for the old man to go to such lengths to mess with him.

But now, Big Dog was sitting in front of him again.

Just like five hundred years ago, when he would smoke in the captain’s cabin of the Wind Fury, keeping watch in the bathroom under the guise of “making sure you don’t drown in the tub” as an excuse for blatant voyeurism.

Caesar sat on the toilet and smoked for as long as Luo Chenzhou sat in the bathtub staring at him.

The one being watched maintained his composure, while the watcher did so shamelessly and without restraint.

It wasn’t until Caesar finished his cigarette with great care, flicked the butt into an ashtray he had somehow produced out of nowhere, that Luo Chenzhou recognized the uniquely shaped crystal ashtray. He’d know it even if it were turned to ash—once, he had stood on top of it, hands on hips, loudly mocking the flag that looked like a dog’s head.

Back then, the furious captain had grabbed him by the collar and dangled him over the ship’s railing, forcing him to shout “Long live the Wind Fury, the Black Wolf Flag is not a dog’s head flag” a hundred times like an idiot.

This pervert actually turned the Wind Fury into an ashtray.

Luo Chenzhou squatted in the bathtub, secretly sneering in his heart while unable to stop the boiling sensation of excitement.

“Looks good, right?” The man, noticing the black-haired young man staring at the glass vessel in his hand, rarely displayed a childlike sense of pride. He carefully placed the ashtray on the edge of the bathtub, extended a finger, and gently pushed it towards Luo Chenzhou. “I had it custom-made myself, modeled after a famous pirate ship from the 15th century called—”

“The Wind Fury.”

The man paused, then nodded, his expression turning slightly subtle as he touched the tip of his nose. “You know about it too.”

“I do,” Luo Chenzhou replied, his face calm as if discussing the weather, even though a storm was raging in his heart. “I also know the captain of that ship shares your name. Actually, when we were talking about angles earlier, it was also the captain’s habit—”

“Oh,” the professor nodded, his tone as calm as if he were saying, “Class, today we’ll learn about ‘Goose, Goose, Goose, Singing to the Sky.'” “…What a coincidence, we even share the same name. I almost thought you’d really seen me when I’m excited.”

Luo Chenzhou: “…”

Caesar: “…Does the encyclopedia record that kind of thing?”

Luo Chenzhou: “…I was just making it up.”

Caesar: “Oh, I thought maybe some enemy had secretly filmed me during sex and sold it as a pirated porn video.”

Professor, what kind of strange realizations are you having every day, Professor! Luo Chenzhou was practically bleeding from his face from blushing: “You don’t have to be so honest. Aren’t professors supposed to be sly? Like when they decide to have a quiz at the end of the month but refuse to notify us in advance, only to spring it on us suddenly?”

Caesar smiled, tapping the edge of the bathtub with his finger. “Are you sure you want to discuss exams here?”

Luo Chenzhou: “Not sure.”

Caesar’s gaze drifted for a moment, as if Luo Chenzhou’s words had opened a new world for him. Without warning, the man reached into the bathtub again, accurately grabbing Luo Chenzhou’s swollen leg, which was as puffy as a steamed bun. The sudden movement caused the black-haired young man to slip into the water, choking on a mouthful of bathwater.

The man, who often went out to sea to conduct business and personally steered the ship, had rough hands that gripped the swollen area without much care. Luo Chenzhou was in so much pain that his vision went black, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the intense heat and throbbing in the spot where he was being held. It was as if his head, hands, and body had all disappeared, leaving only the “steamed bun” foot in the man’s grip. That single spot had never felt so overwhelmingly present.

“You need to apply medicine,” Caesar said after a moment, gently squeezing the area to assess it. His touch, however, was anything but gentle, and he looked at the black-haired young man in the bathtub, who was practically dying of excitement, with a surprised expression. “Did you set your own foot?”

“Yeah.”

“Who taught you?”

You did. “…”

“Not bad. The person who taught you must be quite skilled.”

…Damn you! Even from a different angle, you’re still praising yourself. You’re really something!

By now, the rich foam from the bath had mostly dissipated.

In the clear water of the bathtub, a layer of not-so-fine foam floated, which meant that when Caesar kindly tried to return Luo Chenzhou’s leg to the water, he accidentally caught sight of what was beneath the surface—

So the man, who had never known the meaning of subtlety, pointed at the water and very generously informed the young man in the bathtub: “You seem to be hard.”

Luo Chenzhou: “…”

Caesar: “At a 15-degree angle.”

Luo Chenzhou: “…”

“It’s rare for someone’s sensitive spot to be on the ankle, especially when it’s this swollen,” Caesar continued, as if completely oblivious to Luo Chenzhou’s beet-red face, which was practically glowing with divine light. He spoke in a very academic tone, but then, as if struck by a sudden thought, his amber eyes flickered in a way that was deeply unsettling. He tilted his head slightly and concluded, “Or does pain excite you?”

Luo Chenzhou felt like he could see God smiling at him, with the stairway to heaven right before his eyes.

Then, with no logical connection to the previous conversation, the man reached out and very seriously grabbed Luo Chenzhou’s “little brother” beneath the water.

“…”

Luo Chenzhou was defeated.

Caesar: “Hmm, it’s risen a bit more. Thirty degrees. Can you feel it?”

That thing is connected to my heart, my body, my nerve endings—it’s been with me since I was born, and I’ve always planned to keep it with me for life… Do you think I wouldn’t know if it’s crying, laughing, or about to meet its end?!

The man’s fingers were dexterous, clean, and well-manicured, with nails trimmed neatly as if he had a compulsion for cleanliness. Hands like these could make people drool just by holding a piece of chalk and writing on a blackboard, though many would rather rush to the podium and take a bite out of them.

Now, those hands were gripping Luo Chenzhou’s “two-ounce gentleman,” moving up and down with a slow, steady, and perfectly measured rhythm.

“Don’t be nervous. Relax. This isn’t good for your health.”

Facing Luo Chenzhou’s tearful expression, Caesar spoke gently—using the same tone he’d use to say, “Class, let’s move on to the next line: ‘White feathers float on green water, red claws stir the clear depths.'”

This guy seemed determined to firmly remember his sacred identity as a legitimate university professor.

And he was prepared to carry out this duty to the fullest—

What fell under his responsibility, he would manage well. As for what didn’t seem to be his responsibility, now that it was right in front of him, he didn’t mind meddling a little.

What Caesar didn’t know, however, was that his good student Luo Chenzhou believed that compared to the man’s previous demand that he “relax his ass or it would hurt,” this kind of pure, dignified teacher-student conversation made the sense of shame skyrocket, soaring straight into the clouds.

It was so overwhelmingly intense that it made him want to flee in defeat.

When the man’s thumb lightly brushed over his tip, he completely lost control.

A milky liquid, like a mushroom cloud or fungal mycelium, twisted and floated to the surface.

The man’s other hand had somehow found its way to Luo Chenzhou’s back. The rough pad of his thumb, with its thin calluses, traced a lazy, unsettling arc over the tattoo there.

Luo Chenzhou knew better than anyone what that sickle-like arc represented.

“Considering this nice tattoo,” the man’s deep, magnetic voice whispered in his ear, “let’s call it a free extracurricular sex education lesson.”