The Little Succubus's Hypnosis Manual - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: True Face – From Grimy Bun to Snow Mochi

“I’m calling 120,” the police officer said, pulling out his phone.

Zhou Qiyue cradled Xie Nanxing in his arms. The person in his arms was strangely warm, like holding a heated stove. He touched Xie Nanxing’s forehead—it was burning hot. He must’ve caught a fever after getting soaked in the rain.

Even unconscious, Xie Nanxing was still crying, sobbing and sniffling. He looked utterly pitiful.

Zhou Qiyue took a deep breath. There was no time to think too much. He told the officer, “He doesn’t have an ID. I’ll take him home for now. I have a private doctor.”

“Alright,” the officer replied and took down Zhou Qiyue’s phone number. Zhou Qiyue carried Xie Nanxing into his car and called his doctor to come over.

By the time he got home, the doctor had already arrived. Zhou Qiyue laid Xie Nanxing down in the guest room.

The doctor looked at the boy lying on the bed, shocked, and turned to Zhou Qiyue. “Who is this?”

“A kid I picked up on the street. No ID, so he can’t go to the hospital,” Zhou Qiyue said as he took off his foul-smelling clothes and gestured for the doctor to start examining him.

“He’s severely malnourished and weak. Add that to being drenched in the rain, and he’ll need a few days to recover.” The doctor was well-prepared and began an IV drip for Xie Nanxing.

When the doctor stepped out of the room, he noticed a cat carrier in the living room with a kitten meowing inside. “You planning to keep a cat now?” he asked in surprise.

“No. Xia Wenyuan’s coming to pick it up later,” Zhou Qiyue replied.

“What about the kid? First it’s stray cats, now it’s stray kids?”

“He tried to scam me. That’s all. Anyway, if you’re done, go. I need to shower,” Zhou Qiyue said, clearly dismissing him. The doctor reminded him to watch the IV before leaving.

After his shower, Zhou Qiyue checked the IV—half a bottle left.

Just then, the doorbell rang. He grabbed the kitten from the table and headed to the door. Before the person outside could say anything, a cat carrier was shoved into their arms.

“President Zhou?”

Xia Wenyuan glanced at the kitten inside the carrier. Zhou Qiyue was already retreating into the foyer. “Take it to the store for me,” he said.

“Got it, President Zhou,” Xia Wenyuan replied, peeking into the apartment, only to see the door shut firmly in his face.

With the cat gone, Zhou Qiyue returned to the room and looked at the other stray he had picked up.

Xie Nanxing was sleeping restlessly, kicking the blanket off. As Zhou Qiyue approached, he noticed Xie Nanxing’s forehead was covered in sweat.

The house was air-conditioned, a bit too warm, and the heat made Xie Nanxing’s smell even worse—like he’d just been fished out of a sewer.

Zhou Qiyue frowned deeply. He didn’t like others staying at his place. Usually, a housekeeper came to cook and clean once a week. Most of the time, he lived alone.

Now he was in a dilemma—either change Xie Nanxing’s clothes himself or leave him like this.

But if he left him like this overnight, his house would reek by morning.

He pressed his fingers against his brow in frustration, then resignedly walked over, stripped off Xie Nanxing’s filthy clothes, bagged them, and tossed them into the outside trash. Then he fetched a basin of water and began cleaning him.

After all, before the age of 18, he’d been a young master—when had he ever done this kind of chore for anyone?

The towel soaked up the hot water and expanded. Zhou Qiyue wrung it out and wiped Xie Nanxing’s face. The towel turned visibly darker—beneath all that grime, his true face emerged.

The boy’s features were delicate and fine. His face was small—about the size of a palm—with a perfectly shaped oval. Even lying down, he had no excess flesh. His eyes were shut, long lashes trembling. His fever-flushed cheeks were a soft pink.

At the tip of his nose was a black dot. Zhou Qiyue tried to wipe it off, thinking it was dirt, but when it didn’t come off, he realized it was a mole.

The mole sat right at the center of his nose tip, drawing the eye to it first.

Zhou Qiyue wiped down his entire body and changed him into a clean set of pajamas. By then, the IV drip was done. He removed the needle and pressed down on the site for a while.

After everything was done, he yawned and saw it was time to sleep. He tucked Xie Nanxing in and turned to leave.

But something tugged on his clothes, stopping him.

He looked back. Xie Nanxing was still unconscious, but his hand had latched onto Zhou Qiyue’s shirt as if unwilling to let him go.

Zhou Qiyue tried to gently remove his hand and tuck it under the blanket, but Xie Nanxing took the opportunity to grab his hand instead.

Xie Nanxing’s hand wasn’t large, but it was burning hot from the fever, coated with a layer of sweat. It was so warm it almost scalded Zhou Qiyue. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had such intimate contact with another person.

But Xie Nanxing’s hand was soft—his palm like the plush pads of a kitten.

Still half-dreaming, Xie Nanxing muttered something and clutched his hand tightly, his overgrown nails digging into Zhou Qiyue’s skin.

Zhou Qiyue frowned and carefully peeled each of Xie Nanxing’s fingers off his hand.

Back in his room, Zhou Qiyue looked down at his hand, now marked with red crescent shapes from the boy’s grip. Before long, they would vanish—just like Xie Nanxing eventually would.

He closed his eyes, but for once, sleep didn’t come. Xie Nanxing’s sobs and the kitten’s meows overlapped in his mind—or maybe it was an even older sound.

His breathing quickened. Suddenly, he bolted upright in bed, gasping for air.

He cursed under his breath and pulled open the drawer, taking out a bottle of melatonin and swallowing a pill.

The melatonin calmed his racing nerves. His eyelids grew heavy, and he finally fell asleep.

But sleep brought a cascade of dreams. He was a skinny seven- or eight-year-old, soaked in the rain, rummaging through bushes in the neighborhood, calling out, “Xiao Bai! Where are you!”

Then the scene shifted. He stood outside a villa, and a child looked down at him from the steps.

“You should get lost with that dog. This is my home, not yours.”

When he woke up the next day, his head was pounding.

He opened the bedroom door—and bumped straight into Xie Nanxing.

“What are you doing here?” Zhou Qiyue asked coldly.

Xie Nanxing’s fever had subsided, but he now looked pale from dehydration. His lips were dry and flaky.

“There’s water in the living room. Go get some yourself,” Zhou Qiyue said, brushing past him to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face, finally feeling awake.

Xie Nanxing didn’t go to the living room. He just stood outside the bathroom, staring at him.

His eyes were large, pupils fixed on Zhou Qiyue, following his every move—like a pet watching its owner.

“Don’t think that just because I brought you home I’m planning to keep you,” Zhou Qiyue said, drying his face. His eyes inadvertently landed on the mole at the tip of Xie Nanxing’s nose, and his tone softened slightly.

But to Xie Nanxing, that sounded like he was being kicked out. His eyes dimmed instantly, and he bit his chapped lips until they turned red.

He looked at Zhou Qiyue and struggled to form words. “No… go.”

His voice was clear but oddly paced, like someone just learning to speak. Still, those two words struck a chord in Zhou Qiyue’s chest.

“I only brought you here because you didn’t have an ID and couldn’t go to the hospital. Once you’re better, you have to leave.” Zhou Qiyue clarified, hoping this not-so-bright kid wouldn’t think of freeloading.

“You can stay in the guest room in the meantime.”

Xie Nanxing’s eyes lit up. The human wasn’t kicking him out—there was still hope.

“But you can’t enter my bedroom, and the study is off-limits too,” Zhou Qiyue added.

Xie Nanxing bit his lip in frustration. If he couldn’t spend time with Zhou Qiyue, how was he supposed to get his essence?

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. He could only nod obediently.

The succubus manual said: Humans like obedient pets.

He watched Zhou Qiyue change clothes and grab his bag, following him to the door like he was about to be separated forever.

“Wh… return?” Xie Nanxing tugged on his clothes just as he was changing his shoes.

He still spoke slowly, and even when the words came out, humans didn’t always understand him.

Zhou Qiyue frowned. Under his gaze, Xie Nanxing let go.

“You’re asking if I’ll come back?” Zhou Qiyue asked.

“No.” Xie Nanxing shook his head, then pointed cautiously at Zhou Qiyue’s sleeve.

Zhou Qiyue lifted his arm in confusion. Xie Nanxing pointed to the watch on his wrist.

Ah—he was asking when he’d be back.

After moving out on his own, Zhou Qiyue had never needed to report his schedule. But under that expectant gaze, he still replied—“Around six or seven tonight. I’ll have the housekeeper come make you lunch. There’s medicine on the table—take it yourself.”

Xie Nanxing nodded. Only after the door closed did he reluctantly look away.

He studied the human’s home—it was big and beautiful, all black and white marble.

On the table was a box of medicine with instructions on a sticky note, but Xie Nanxing couldn’t read human writing.

He studied the pills, took one out, and sneakily tossed it into the trash.

If he didn’t get better, maybe Zhou Qiyue wouldn’t rush to kick him out.

He sat on the soft leather sofa, hugging his knees, quietly watching the sunlight through the window, following the shifting shadow of his own silhouette.

Around noon, someone else came to the house.

The housekeeper entered like she knew the place well, switching to indoor slippers and carrying a large bag of groceries.

Seeing Xie Nanxing, she greeted him warmly. “You must be Mr. Zhou’s younger brother, right? I heard you’re sick, so Mr. Zhou asked me to cook something light for you.”

It took a few moments for Xie Nanxing to digest her long sentence. He nodded, and the housekeeper, not expecting a reply, went off to cook.

She moved swiftly. Before long, lunch was ready on the table.

She called him over and snapped a photo to send to Zhou Qiyue.

Zhou Qiyue didn’t reply.

Xie Nanxing sat at the table, staring at the unfamiliar food. The housekeeper handed him chopsticks. “Eat up before it gets cold.”

He looked at the two slender sticks. In his world, they didn’t eat food like this. Hunger was solved by picking fruit off trees.

Clumsily, he poked at the food. The plate screeched across the table, and vegetables spilled everywhere.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like the food?” The housekeeper quickly moved the plate back and asked gently.

Xie Nanxing shook his head and set down the chopsticks.

He didn’t want this food. He only wanted Zhou Qiyue’s essence.

Seeing no other option, the housekeeper called Zhou Qiyue.

She put the call on speaker. In the quiet house, Xie Nanxing heard Zhou Qiyue’s voice through the little box. “He won’t eat? Then let him starve.”

Xie Nanxing didn’t know what the device was, but it could deliver Zhou Qiyue’s voice. He immediately leaned closer. “Won’t… won’t…”

There was a pause on the other end. Then Zhou Qiyue’s tone softened noticeably. “Let the housekeeper feed you.”

“You… return,” Xie Nanxing said, his voice soft and sweet like a newborn kitten’s mewl.

Zhou Qiyue pictured those grape-like eyes—if he kept going, he’d probably start crying.

“…I’ll be home in twenty minutes.”