Quick Transmigration: God of Slaughter? But He Calls Me Baby! - Chapter 48

Qian Zhou had only asked casually, but he hadn’t expected Gu Sheng to react so strongly.

He couldn’t possibly…

“It’s not that.” Gu Sheng rubbed at his temples with some weariness and dropped the towel back into the basin of warm water.

He rolled his sleeves up, exposing the faint veins on his forearm, running up from his wrist until they disappeared under the cuff at his elbow.

Leaning against the soft pillow, Qian Zhou tilted his head and stared at Gu Sheng’s arm in a daze.

The waves that day on the sea had been so fierce, yet Gu Sheng had managed to drag him across the surface and hold on for so long.

When he fell in, Qian Zhou’s mind had been filled with questions—what exactly was that strange “Gu Sheng”? When had they first met? Why had Gu Sheng blocked his system functions?

But the instant he plunged into the seawater, his mind had gone completely blank. Waves flooded his nose, his limbs felt trapped in quicksand.

Nothing beneath his feet—he couldn’t step on anything.

Agony ripped across his shoulder, bl00d draining quickly, and he could clearly feel himself sinking deeper into the icy water.

Qian Zhou had never died in the middle of a mission before. Without the system’s support, he stood no chance in such a hopeless situation.

Until—

Gu Sheng grabbed his hand.

Even when his consciousness blurred from bl00d loss, he vaguely heard Gu Sheng telling him not to sleep.

He had never before heard Gu Sheng’s voice tremble like that.

“What are you thinking about?” Gu Sheng asked.

“Your… your arm, is it okay? Did you hurt the muscle?”

Qian Zhou took Gu Sheng’s hand, removed the towel from it, and set it on the table. “Don’t wipe me anymore. I already showered back on the yacht. I’m clean.”

Gu Sheng said, “Can’t you smell the fishy stench on yourself?”

“I was only in the water for an hour. How could there be a stench…” Qian Zhou lifted his arm to sniff.

There was a faint salty, fishy scent of seawater. If he hadn’t deliberately sniffed, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

Qian Zhou glanced at him hesitantly.

Outside, laughter drifted in, and the ward was bright with sunlight.

VIP rooms were indeed better than standard singles—there was hot water in the bathroom, and a solid little sofa by the bed.

Gu Sheng lifted a heavy metal lamp from the coffee table with one hand and set it beside Qian Zhou’s bed.

His arm looked perfectly fine.

“Gu Sheng,” Qian Zhou called.

“Mm?”

“Did you touch me while I was asleep?”

Gu Sheng said, “I did.”

Qian Zhou was stunned by his matter-of-fact tone. “I mean, I’m grateful you saved me, but that’s a different matter. You can’t just touch me whenever you like.”

Gu Sheng stopped in his tracks and frowned deeply. “I raised you.”

“That excuse doesn’t work anymore. I’ve only known you for less than half a year.”

Qian Zhou held up one finger.

“One: you don’t belong here, and neither do I.”

He raised a second finger.

“Two: you can’t install surveillance cameras in my room anymore, and you can’t put trackers on me either. That’s already an invasion of my privacy.”

When Qian Zhou lifted a third finger, Gu Sheng pressed it down.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked warily.

Qian Zhou sat up, eyes bright with excitement.

“I want to move—”

“No.” Gu Sheng cut him off before he could finish.

“This isn’t up for discussion.”

He gave Qian Zhou a threatening look. “Unless you want me to drag you back tied up.”

“You can’t just do that!” Qian Zhou pushed himself upright, propping against the bed.

He protested, “You don’t even come home that often. Most of the time you’re at the company. That villa is so big, and you live there alone—it’s too empty. I want to move somewhere smaller, preferably near Jiang En.”

“And I’m injured. I need somewhere close to a small park. Ideally, with restaurants and convenience stores downstairs. The villa district takes forever just to get delivery. It’s so inconvenient.”

He rattled on, “I’m only informing you. I’ve thought this through. Even if you don’t agree, I won’t listen.”

Gu Sheng stood by the window in the backlight. Hearing this, he turned to face him, expression blank.

One second. Two.

“…Fine, I can barely discuss it with you,” Qian Zhou relented.

Gu Sheng said nothing.

Qian Zhou pulled the blanket up to cover his face. “D-don’t just keep staring at me like that…”

A tuft of soft hair poked out from under the blanket, fingers tightly gripping the edge.

In the sunlight, the boy looked so vivid that Gu Sheng’s gaze gradually softened.

He said, “We can change houses. There are some good apartments by the river with the best view. Close to the park, with restaurants and convenience stores nearby.”

Qian Zhou was already tempted. “That sounds perfect. Let’s pick that one.”

Then his face darkened. “But I’m not living with you.”

Gu Sheng narrowed his eyes. “Whose money pays for the house?”

Qian Zhou’s voice went weak.

“…Yours.”

A soul-piercing question. Not only the house—every expense of his was covered by Gu Sheng. Qian Zhou didn’t have a single cent of his own.

So he compromised again. “Fine, we can live together. But you can’t install cameras in my room.”

After weighing it, Gu Sheng nodded. “Okay.”

Qian Zhou thought he’d add more conditions, but he didn’t.

Gu Sheng picked up the remote and switched from a bad movie to a wildlife documentary. Qian Zhou hugged his pillow and watched peacocks display for a mate.

He didn’t notice when Gu Sheng left.

When he returned, he carried nourishing seafood porridge and a small box of grilled meat.

The bedside fan whirred, and the parrot had been lying on the windowsill all day. At Qian Zhou’s reminder, Gu Sheng fed it a little.

That night, Qian Zhou curled up under the blanket.

Gu Sheng touched his forehead, fingers curling slightly. “You’ve got a fever again.”

The nurse came in to put him on an IV, sticking a cooling patch on his forehead.

Gu Sheng watched him lying listlessly, then hooked his finger against Qian Zhou’s. “Just a few more days of rest, hmm?”

Half-asleep, Qian Zhou blinked at him and finally murmured, “Mm…”

When Gu Sheng tried to pull away, his fingers were caught in a light grip.

The other hand was stuck with an IV, white tape holding down overlapping puncture marks.

Qian Zhou looked cold under the blanket, so he tugged Gu Sheng’s hand under the covers too.

His voice was soft from the fever, making him sound uncomfortable.

“You didn’t take your medicine today…”

Gu Sheng leaned closer. “What?”

Qian Zhou parted his lips and whispered,

“It’s Thursday again, Gu Sheng…”

Lifting his gaze, Gu Sheng saw the date displayed in the bottom-right corner of the TV screen.

Outside, the branches rustled in the night. A soft ache collapsed inside his heart.

He lowered his head and, through the cooling patch, kissed Qian Zhou’s forehead.

“My illness is cured.”

Qian Zhou shut his eyes, mumbling drowsily,

“…Oh. Goodnight.”

[Strategy Value +4]