Rebirth of the Spiritual Power King of Pop Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Beautiful Dream

Xiahou Qian lay there for over ten minutes before slowly pushing himself up. He looked around the room. It was huge—larger than a standard presidential suite. He was currently in what appeared to be the living area, which featured a set of armchairs, a coffee table, and high-quality carpeting. He had personally verified the quality of that carpet; it was definitely worth the price!

He walked through a doorway into a massive bedroom. There was a king-sized bed, a huge wardrobe, and a luxury crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A small door in the bedroom likely led to the bathroom he desperately needed.

He opened it, and sure enough, it was a bathroom.

Enduring the soreness and shame, he cleaned himself up. Fortunately, despite the swelling and pain, there was no bleeding. He had to praise his “innate talent.” After a quick rinse, he dried his hair and studied his reflection in the mirror. Aside from his swollen lips and the mottled marks on his neck, everything else was fine.

He had been wearing a collarless T-shirt when he arrived, so the marks on his neck were impossible to hide. Luckily, it was late, so people wouldn’t see much. Even if they did, he didn’t care. He wasn’t married or in a relationship.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped out and picked up his clothes from beside the sleeping man. He endured the discomfort as he put them back on, piece by piece.

Once dressed, he looked at the man still sleeping naked on the carpet. He went to the bedroom, grabbed a lightweight duvet, and draped it over him.

He knelt by the man, reaching out to stroke his face. Looking at the marks on the man’s Adam’s apple and neck, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly, though his expression soon turned dim.

“Chi Shaochen…” We probably won’t meet again. Even though he desperately wanted to be someone worthy of standing by his side.

“My name is Xiahou Qian. I’m your first man, you know? Mm… will you be angry when you wake up? You don’t have to be. I won’t bring you trouble, and I can’t get pregnant like a woman. So, just treat this as a spring dream. Sigh.“

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay. Quite the opposite—Xiahou Qian wished more than anything for more intersections with Chi Shaochen. But he also understood that if he stayed, the only thing he would get besides a check would be the man’s suspicion and loathing. In that case, it was better to treat it as a beautiful dream.

“Goodbye, Chi Shaochen.”

Xiahou Qian kissed the man’s forehead, a small smile playing on his lips, then stood and left. He even strategically locked the door behind him to prevent any other uninvited guests from entering.

When he stepped out of the elevator, the receptionist in the lobby watched him from a distance, but he didn’t run into anyone else.

As he stepped out onto the neon-lit streets, he noticed his hearing had become exceptionally sharp. The sound of car horns, brakes, and tires against the pavement was incredibly clear. He could even distinguish the exact position and pitch of every sound. He had always been sensitive to sound, but never like this. It was like the “Absolute Pitch” his professor had once mentioned.

Xiahou Qian decided to test and research this more once he got home. If it really was Absolute Pitch, that would be amazing.

Sitting in the back of a taxi, he pulled out his phone. There were five missed calls and one text. One call was from his professor, while two calls and the text were from Shen Wei. The text was the full address of the banquet—it was indeed on the 12th floor. How had he remembered it as the 21st?

But what a wonderful mistake.

Otherwise, how could he have met that man? Though he knew they would still be strangers after tonight, at least they had been this intimate once. They had “once possessed” each other. In the future, even if he looked back, it wouldn’t feel as hollow as before.

This was enough. He couldn’t be too greedy.

Sponsored

His body was indeed suited for being the one on the bottom, but after being tossed around for so long for his first time, the long taxi ride made him ache. He would buy some medicine at the pharmacy near his home and hope he wouldn’t catch a fever as a side effect.

Xiahou Qian felt that his theoretical knowledge had been somewhat useful after all.

He slept until noon the next day, eventually woken by hunger. Perhaps because the medicine had kicked in, he didn’t feel too bad.

He could ignore Shen Wei, but his professor had always been good to him. After waking, he called the professor and made up an excuse for missing the banquet. The professor asked if he was okay, and Xiahou Qian quickly reassured him, promising to visit another day.

As for the other person involved, Chi Shaochen woke up at exactly 6:30 AM, driven by his biological clock. He had been drugged last night, yes, but that didn’t mean he had lost his mind entirely. However, looking at the mess on the floor and the duvet covering him, he found it difficult to find the words to describe his mood.

He hadn’t expected his mother to be so desperate that she would drug her own son just to get him into bed with a woman—or more accurately, because she wanted a grandson.

Chi Shaochen wasn’t close to his parents. One had left him with a nanny since childhood, while the other was incredibly promiscuous. Aside from him, the legitimate heir, there was no shortage of illegitimate children outside. Growing up, he had received nothing but money and a strict education to become an heir.

He disliked—even loathed—physical proximity with others. It was manageable when he was a child, but later, he rejected any physical contact beyond necessary etiquette. That was why he still didn’t have a girlfriend at twenty-five. There were even rumors in the company that he was either impotent or gay. His father had likely heard these rumors and mentioned to his mother that he wanted Chi Shaochen to marry and have children soon. Thus, his mother, who lived only for her husband, had drugged her own son to satisfy her husband’s wishes.

Yesterday, his mother had called him home. Reluctantly, he went. In the house was the daughter of one of his mother’s close friends. His mother had a rare, gentle smile and poured him a glass of juice, saying he had liked it as a child. Though he didn’t remember if he had, he drank it because of her hopeful gaze.

The moment he felt the reaction in his body, he understood everything. Ignoring his mother and that irrelevant woman, he had driven straight to the AE. No one else should have been able to open the elevator to the 21st floor, but in his state yesterday, it was a struggle just to drive safely; he had forgotten to lock the elevator access.

He should have gone to the bathroom to take a cold shower, but the long period of intense concentration required for driving had left him dazed once he entered the room. His mind was a blur, so he had just sat down on the floor. He sat there for a long time before he felt slightly better, but before he could make it to the bedroom, the door was pushed open.

He had bodyguards in the shadows, and his own combat skills were top-tier, but what could he have done to his mother in that situation? He could only leave.

He believed in his self-control. The drug wasn’t dangerous, but he didn’t want his subordinates to see him so disheveled, so he hadn’t called for them.

Regardless, this would be the only time. He wouldn’t give them another chance to plot against him just because of “blood ties.”

Luckily, she was his mother, so the drug was merely an aphrodisiac with no other side effects. His memory of last night was quite clear. He vaguely remembered the look in the boy’s eyes when he pushed the door open—it didn’t look like the gaze of a stranger. That was why he had initially thought the boy was sent by someone with an agenda.

The boy’s closeness hadn’t repulsed him. Even at the point of “negative distance,” he hadn’t felt any loathing. He liked the boy’s scent. Previously, he had always thought such things were dirty, but last night he had been addicted to it, even craving the boy’s body. This was his first time experiencing that feeling of “water and milk blending together”—it was actually warm and lingering.

Chi Shaochen sat up. The duvet slid to his waist, revealing his muscular torso. He pressed his fingers to his temples, frowning slightly in discomfort.

The boy was very good-looking. He said he had taken the wrong floor, but if that was the case, why did he stay? And how did he get to the 21st floor?

Last night had been truly crazy. Thinking back, Chi Shaochen could hardly believe he had done such things. What left him even more speechless was that, at the memory of those moments, his body actually reacted again. Chi Shaochen had the urge to facepalm.

He went to the bathroom to shower, only to see more than one hickey on his neck in the mirror. The one on his Adam’s apple was particularly obvious!