TAO | Chapter 87

9:30 p.m. in A City. Streetlights lit up one by one, weaving a soft orange ribbon that flowed down over Wei Xiaochi and Jiang Zhan like melted gold.

Jiang Zhan was riding his motorcycle, sending Wei Xiaochi home.

It was still sweltering outside, and with air conditioning humming in every household, there weren’t many people out enjoying the night breeze.

Wei Xiaochi took off his helmet and placed it on the back seat of the motorcycle. Head bowed, he mumbled, “I’m heading in. Be careful on the way back.”

He turned to walk toward his building.

Jiang Zhan parked the bike, pulled out the key, and shoved it carelessly into his pocket. Then he stepped forward and grabbed Wei Xiaochi by the arm.

Wei Xiaochi froze but didn’t look at him, eyes glued to the two overlapping shadows on the ground. “…Something else?”

Bathed in the orange glow, Jiang Zhan’s ears turned red, his voice dry as he asked, “Is your… your mouth okay?”

Wei Xiaochi’s tongue tied itself into a knot. “N-nothing wrong.”

Jiang Zhan’s throat visibly bobbed. “Lift your head. Let me see.”

Wei Xiaochi’s heart was pounding. He clutched the hem of his shirt and slowly tilted his head up, face full of nervous chaos.

Back in the Japanese restaurant, Jiang Zhan had tried to kiss him like they did in the movies, but his control was off—he’d accidentally knocked into Wei Xiaochi’s mouth with his teeth and busted his lip.

His lips, usually pale, were still a bit red now. Jiang Zhan reached out and gently touched them with his fingertip.

Wei Xiaochi flinched a little, breathing quickening, eyes darting away in panic.

Jiang Zhan didn’t look any calmer—he was just as flustered. “It’s still… bleeding?”

Wei Xiaochi’s shoulders were tense. He clutched his shirt and shook his head.

It wasn’t a big deal, really. Just a bit of blood when Jiang Zhan bumped into him. After holding his tongue against it for a while, it was fine.

Jiang Zhan brushed over his lips again, as if trying to inspect the wound.

Wei Xiaochi grew even more anxious—what if someone saw? He pulled Jiang Zhan into a more hidden corner.

This time, when Jiang Zhan wanted to check his mouth again, Wei Xiaochi didn’t resist. He tilted his chin up slightly.

Jiang Zhan gently parted his lips. Inside, a patch of vivid red stood out where the skin was a bit swollen.

Wei Xiaochi looked up at a distant streetlamp, feeling Jiang Zhan move in closer. His fingers curled into tight fists.

Jiang Zhan leaned in and blew on the wound.

He’d had a few sips of tea before they left the restaurant, and his breath carried the faint sweetness of that tea.

Wei Xiaochi held his breath, not daring to even exhale.

Jiang Zhan blew again, then glanced up at Wei Xiaochi’s fluttering eyelashes. His throat moved as he swallowed hard. “Next time… I’ll be gentler.”

Then he blew again, this time a little more carefully.

Wei Xiaochi’s chest felt tight from holding in his breath. He gave two barely noticeable nods.

Jiang Zhan didn’t back away. Still leaning over, their shadows nearly overlapping on the ground.

Wei Xiaochi’s neck was starting to ache from tilting his head. He finally looked up at Jiang Zhan.

Their eyes met—and the air around them thickened with a hard-to-ignore tension and quiet heat.

Jiang Zhan’s dark eyes reflected Wei Xiaochi’s face, utterly focused and sincere, like a bashful debutante who wanted to love but didn’t know how to say it.

Wei Xiaochi gasped quietly, breath catching. For once, he took the initiative—leaning in and gently kissing Jiang Zhan, twice, soft pecks.

Then he murmured, “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

Jiang Zhan instantly wrapped him into a hug, forehead rubbing against Wei Xiaochi’s ear. He tilted his head and lightly bit down on Wei Xiaochi’s lips, sucking gently before letting go and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Chi Chi…”

He hugged his omega tighter, pulling him into his arms like he couldn’t get close enough, whispering his name in a soft, lingering tone.

Wei Xiaochi melted into the intimacy, a rare sense of peace spreading through him.

Until—

“What the hell are you doing?!”

That furious voice shattered the moment like a brick through glass.

The sound of it sent Wei Xiaochi’s blood running backward, limbs frozen, like he’d been dunked into ice.

Jiang Zhan’s foggy brain snapped back to clarity. He turned, annoyed, toward the voice.

Standing in the shadows was Wei Dongjian—face dark and twisted with rage. The look he gave Wei Xiaochi practically spat fire.

Wei Xiaochi’s voice cracked. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally managing, “…Dad.”

Jiang Zhan’s ears twitched at the word. He looked between the terrified Wei Xiaochi and the thunderous Wei Dongjian. Immediately, he let go and stood beside Wei Xiaochi, head slightly bowed like a student waiting to be scolded.

Wei Dongjian’s chest rose and fell twice. Then he stormed toward them, raising his hand for a slap.

Before he could land it, Jiang Zhan caught his wrist midair.

“What are you doing?” he snapped.

Jiang Zhan stood tall and firm, muscle taut under his clothes. His nearly 1.9-meter frame cast a long shadow, exuding intense pressure.

Wei Dongjian had always been hot-tempered—he used to rule the house with a single word.

“I’m hitting my own son! What’s it to you?!” he barked, red-eyed and furious. “And you’re asking me what we’re doing?! What the hell were you two doing?!”

Jiang Zhan’s face went cold.

“What if I forced him? What if I was bullying him?”

“You didn’t even ask what happened—just swung at him. What kind of father are you?!”

“You should take a long, hard look in the mirror!”

Each word hit hard, and when Jiang Zhan finished, he grabbed Wei Xiaochi’s hand and yanked him away, leaving Wei Dongjian standing there in stunned silence.

In Jiang Zhan’s world, no one could intimidate him—not even a domineering father like Wei Dongjian.

—

The road ahead was old and broken, full of potholes. Wei Xiaochi stumbled as Jiang Zhan dragged him forward.

Once they were out of sight, Jiang Zhan pulled him into a narrow alley, dark as pitch.

All the alpha’s boldness from earlier dissolved. He started pacing frantically.

Running a hand through his hair, he muttered, “What now? What now?!”

A beat later, rage took over. “Why the hell would he hit you?!”

Even if they’d been caught kissing, wasn’t he the one who should’ve been hit? Why take it out on Wei Xiaochi? Based on what?

Then he spiraled again. “Shit, what now?!”

Then snapped again. “Why hit you?!”

And again, panic: “What do we do now?!”

Jiang Zhan was spiraling between fury and anxiety—half mad that he’d pissed off Wei Xiaochi’s dad, half furious that Wei Dongjian had raised his hand without even knowing what happened.

If this wasn’t his dad, Jiang Zhan would’ve hit him back.

Wei Xiaochi watched his alpha pace left and right, back and forth, his own worries getting dizzy and scattered with every lap.

Suddenly Jiang Zhan stopped, staring dead at him, eyes serious and anxious. “Will your dad make you break up with me?”

Wei Xiaochi’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Yes. That was basically a guarantee.

Judging by Wei Dongjian’s reaction just now, going home was going to be a war zone.

Jiang Zhan saw the answer in his eyes and grew even more agitated. He grabbed Wei Xiaochi’s shoulders, gripping so tight it almost hurt. “Wei Xiaochi, are you going to break up with me?”

He never called him by his full name unless he was truly panicked.

Wei Xiaochi looked at him steadily, then shook his head—slow and calm but firm. “No.”

He pulled out his savings passbook and shoved it into Jiang Zhan’s hand. “I have money. If he tries to break us up, I’ll move into the school dorm.”

Money, for Wei Xiaochi, meant independence. It was his ticket out of that house.

Originally, it was his college fund—his “scholarship.” If Wei Dongjian tried to stop him from going to J University, he’d pay his own way.

But now, things had changed. He had to grow up sooner.

Jiang Zhan stared at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.

That thin little booklet felt as heavy as a mountain in his hands.

—

Author’s Note:

Originally, I was going to leave it on a cliffhanger with Jiang Zhan asking, “Are you going to break up with me?”

But then I thought—nah. Let’s just give you guys Wei Xiaochi’s answer. Save y’all from scratching your heads bald. 😌