Kong Wenyu rose to power at a young age. Countless people offered themselves to his bed, hoping to climb up the social ladder through him.

Many of his business partners even tried sneaking “canaries” into his sheets.

But he never accepted any of them.

A friend once asked him why. The noble young man, long-haired with dark eyes, rested his chin on one hand. His gaze flickered briefly toward a shadowed corner before he replied calmly, “No reason. I simply don’t want to.”

Yet the voice that was cool and clear yesterday had turned hoarse today, and the slightly loosened collar revealed traces of suggestive red marks.

There was no doubt—his bed was not empty.

Sensing the shift, the friend tactfully changed the subject: “I heard your bodyguard is quite skilled. Lend him to me for a while?”

Kong Wenyu: “…”

The tall, broad-shouldered bodyguard stood silently behind him like a shadow, head slightly lowered, expression unreadable.

After the guests had left, a man with wheat-colored skin knelt on the ground, hands bound, his chest covered with mottled marks.

Kong Wenyu tilted the man’s chin up with the handle of a whip, voice teasing yet edged with malice:

“Out of all the bodyguards, why did he choose you?”

Nie Jun: “…”

—

Three years ago, Nie Jun had been one of the most feared mercenaries in the underworld—until that day on the cruise ship, when he met someone.

The man’s beauty was almost intoxicating. He had reached out, clutching at Nie Jun’s sleeve with drug-hazed eyes, and whispered:

“Save me.”

#Do personal bodyguards have to warm the bed too?

#If his voice goes hoarse from calling out, why still no official title?

#How long does a secret affair have to last before it becomes legitimate?

A silent, watchful, and overly possessive bodyguard seme × A powerful, manipulative, and unapologetically entitled noble uke.

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