Extra: Manager Ren’s World
By the time Ren Ningyuan entered university, he already had a very clear understanding of his life’s direction and principles, along with an efficient, distinctive way of dealing with trouble. What troubled him later was that he had always lived by the law of the wolf—yet somehow a little white lamb appeared out of nowhere, worshipping him.
He couldn’t figure out what had blinded this man’s eyes, that he couldn’t see Ren Ningyuan’s darkness at all. He followed him around devotedly every day, thinking of him as a great hero, as if Ren Ningyuan could protect him from anything.
Ren Ningyuan didn’t like putting on airs. He didn’t need to. Yet that man’s almost loving enthusiasm gradually became like a thickening spider’s web, wrapping around him and trapping him.
At first, he found that blind worship childish and laughable. Over time, however, he discovered that he himself had grown too accustomed to it—so much so that he could no longer shake it off.
In truth, his perfection was nothing but a false surface, a misunderstanding on that man’s part.
Who didn’t have weaknesses, desires, the full range of human emotions? He could hardly even be called kind. Yet in that man’s eyes, he was the greatest, best god in the world.
Without realizing it, he began to hide parts of himself. He disliked pretense, yet also started to fear the feeling of stepping down from the altar.
Qu Tongqiu was fat. Ren Ningyuan couldn’t say whether he was good-looking or not; his appearance was just a vague concept—it was enough to know it was him. So when Qu Tongqiu slimmed down and became better-looking, it didn’t really change Ren Ningyuan’s feelings.
Zhuang Wei, however, was keenly aware of the change. While vacationing on H Island, Zhuang Wei secretly kissed the sleeping man on the lips. Catching a glimpse of that scene by chance made Ren Ningyuan feel something strange, a sensation he couldn’t quite name.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen men being intimate, but seeing Zhuang Wei kiss that man felt like suddenly discovering that the pet dog you kept at home was edible.
Some things simply aren’t food—that understanding is deeply ingrained. Yet one day, someone else’s actions point it out to you, enough to shake that certainty.
Of course, he had no intention of eating the pet dog.
One night, he got a call from Chu Mo, saying that Qu Tongqiu and Chu Qian had caused trouble in a bar and asking him to come pick up his little follower.
The moment Chu Mo saw him, he relaxed, exhausted. “You’re finally here. This guy is a real headache.” Qu Tongqiu’s state made that obvious at a glance, but Ren Ningyuan still asked politely first, “Is Chu Qian okay?”
“She’s fine, just scared. I had someone send her home. As for this one—he’s too hard to deal with. I don’t even have a place for him to sleep if I take him back, so I’ll return him to you.” Before leaving, Chu Mo patted his shoulder. “He helped my sister tonight. I’ll thank him properly next time.”
Ren Ningyuan carried the half-conscious man back alone. There was probably something added to the alcohol; Qu Tongqiu clung to him the whole way, grinding against him like he was in heat, making even Ren Ningyuan start to sweat.
“Stop it.”
Normally, the man treated his words like sacred edicts, but now he only made trouble. Under his entanglement, Ren Ningyuan finally managed to open the door and get him inside. Even the short walk to the bedroom was a struggle—the man hung on him, refusing to let go, as if magnetically drawn, kissing him wildly without aim.
Ren Ningyuan tried his best not to let him touch his lips. The man, frustrated and unable to find an outlet, clung to him like an octopus, grinding relentlessly.
Harassed to the point where his breathing grew uneven, Ren Ningyuan tried to put him on the bed, grabbing at the arms that were wrapped around him to pull them away.
“Boss…” Ren Ningyuan froze.
The half-conscious man kept muttering “Boss…” as he climbed over him.
What he said and what his hands did were two different things. This man worshipped him like a god, yet under the influence of the drug, he boldly tore at his clothes, lips rubbing everywhere, kissing him like a puppy gone wild, trying to press him down beneath himself.
Extra: Manager Ren’s World
By the time Ren Ningyuan entered university, he already had a very clear understanding of his life’s direction and principles, along with an efficient, distinctive way of dealing with trouble. What troubled him later was that he had always lived by the law of the wolf—yet somehow a little white lamb appeared out of nowhere, worshipping him.
He couldn’t figure out what had blinded this man’s eyes, that he couldn’t see Ren Ningyuan’s darkness at all. He followed him around devotedly every day, thinking of him as a great hero, as if Ren Ningyuan could protect him from anything.
Ren Ningyuan didn’t like putting on airs. He didn’t need to. Yet that man’s almost loving enthusiasm gradually became like a thickening spider’s web, wrapping around him and trapping him.
At first, he found that blind worship childish and laughable. Over time, however, he discovered that he himself had grown too accustomed to it—so much so that he could no longer shake it off.
In truth, his perfection was nothing but a false surface, a misunderstanding on that man’s part.
Who didn’t have weaknesses, desires, the full range of human emotions? He could hardly even be called kind. Yet in that man’s eyes, he was the greatest, best god in the world.
Without realizing it, he began to hide parts of himself. He disliked pretense, yet also started to fear the feeling of stepping down from the altar.
Qu Tongqiu was fat. Ren Ningyuan couldn’t say whether he was good-looking or not; his appearance was just a vague concept—it was enough to know it was him. So when Qu Tongqiu slimmed down and became better-looking, it didn’t really change Ren Ningyuan’s feelings.
Zhuang Wei, however, was keenly aware of the change. While vacationing on H Island, Zhuang Wei secretly kissed the sleeping man on the lips. Catching a glimpse of that scene by chance made Ren Ningyuan feel something strange, a sensation he couldn’t quite name.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen men being intimate, but seeing Zhuang Wei kiss that man felt like suddenly discovering that the pet dog you kept at home was edible.
Some things simply aren’t food—that understanding is deeply ingrained. Yet one day, someone else’s actions point it out to you, enough to shake that certainty.
Of course, he had no intention of eating the pet dog.
One night, he got a call from Chu Mo, saying that Qu Tongqiu and Chu Qian had caused trouble in a bar and asking him to come pick up his little follower.
The moment Chu Mo saw him, he relaxed, exhausted. “You’re finally here. This guy is a real headache.” Qu Tongqiu’s state made that obvious at a glance, but Ren Ningyuan still asked politely first, “Is Chu Qian okay?”
“She’s fine, just scared. I had someone send her home. As for this one—he’s too hard to deal with. I don’t even have a place for him to sleep if I take him back, so I’ll return him to you.” Before leaving, Chu Mo patted his shoulder. “He helped my sister tonight. I’ll thank him properly next time.”
Ren Ningyuan carried the half-conscious man back alone. There was probably something added to the alcohol; Qu Tongqiu clung to him the whole way, grinding against him like he was in heat, making even Ren Ningyuan start to sweat.
“Stop it.”
Normally, the man treated his words like sacred edicts, but now he only made trouble. Under his entanglement, Ren Ningyuan finally managed to open the door and get him inside. Even the short walk to the bedroom was a struggle—the man hung on him, refusing to let go, as if magnetically drawn, kissing him wildly without aim.
Ren Ningyuan tried his best not to let him touch his lips. The man, frustrated and unable to find an outlet, clung to him like an octopus, grinding relentlessly.
Harassed to the point where his breathing grew uneven, Ren Ningyuan tried to put him on the bed, grabbing at the arms that were wrapped around him to pull them away.
“Boss…” Ren Ningyuan froze.
The half-conscious man kept muttering “Boss…” as he climbed over him.
What he said and what his hands did were two different things. This man worshipped him like a god, yet under the influence of the drug, he boldly tore at his clothes, lips rubbing everywhere, kissing him like a puppy gone wild, trying to press him down beneath himself.
Even if that man later became a husband, a father, and someday a grandfather, he would still, day after day, be unable to forget him, endlessly cherishing and yearning for him. He thought: this was his greatest achievement.
In this world, feelings can remain forever unspoiled only if a certain distance is kept.
But one day, that man came to T City with his daughter to look for him. And then everything changed.
Within those ordinary, happy days, there were shadows only he could see. The man was happy because he knew nothing, and he did his utmost to let him remain happily ignorant.
Telling one lie is easy, but it takes more and more lies to cover it up. The man’s trust and admiration for him grew day by day, and the dangerous abscess grew more terrifying with each passing day.
He had played the hero for more than ten years and had begun to feel a faint weariness. When the accumulated truth finally reached the point of eruption, he still refused to give up. He wanted to know just how far things had gone.
He asked Qu Tongqiu, “What do you know?”
The man said tremblingly, “I don’t want to know anymore.”
And then he knew—everything was already beyond saving.
The man said, “I’ll go back.”
Impossible. There was no going back. No one could turn back anymore. He could not let him escape alone and leave him here by himself.
“It was me. Qu Tongqiu, that person was me.”
At the instant of confession, he actually felt a trace of relief.
The man struggled like a madman and spat fiercely in his face.
When the beautiful world he had created with his own hands finally cracked and collapsed, he also felt a complete release. At last, he no longer had to keep acting.
It was as if the sky had been torn open with a huge hole, rain pouring down in torrents. He did not know whether there would be sunshine in the future, nor what he might still be able to salvage from these ruins.
Keeping the emotionally unstable man under house arrest was never a real solution. Zhuang Wei had been tailing him all along, swearing to find that man. Chu Mo told him, “You are his illness.” Even Su Zhiyu said the man had already gone mad.
He was used to being omnipotent, yet utterly powerless when it came to that man. When Qu Tongqiu bit down hard on his neck, nearly severing his carotid artery with his teeth alone, he suddenly felt with painful clarity just how deeply this man hated him.
That bone-deep hatred was almost as profound as the admiration of those years past. And he could not think of a single way to make the man feel even a little better.
He stayed in the hospital all afternoon due to excessive blood loss, and by then Qu Tongqiu already belonged to Zhuang Wei. In this world, the changes that happen every single minute were beyond his grasp.
He knew what Zhuang Wei would do to that man. Zhuang Wei was not like him—Zhuang Wei simply lived wantonly as an ordinary mortal.
He could imagine the scene of the man, completely unable to resist, being toyed with by Zhuang Wei, while he himself was unable to move.
In this world, there was now no one less qualified than him to say, “Please treat Qu Tongqiu a little better,” because he himself had already destroyed Qu Tongqiu.
He did not even have the right to feel pain.
At last, Zhuang Wei relented and agreed to let him take Qu Ke to meet Qu Tongqiu.
When he told Qu Ke, “Your dad should be back very soon,” she was overjoyed. Even now, he still remembered the hopeful happiness the two of them had at that time.
Qu Ke immediately picked up the scarf she had left aside for a long time and, forgetting to eat or sleep, nearly finished knitting it in just one day. Unfortunately, cramming at the last minute could only go so far—when it came time to finish, she got stuck. She didn’t know how to bind off; she couldn’t possibly keep knitting forever.
“All right then, let’s cheat just a tiny bit,” Ren Ningyuan said, taking her to a tailor’s shop and asking them to help finish the edges. The completed scarf had one or two small holes, but if you didn’t look closely, it was quite nice. Qu Ke hugged it all the way, delighted, and even pulled it out again during meals.
“I wonder if it’ll suit my dad when he wears it,” just thinking about it made her happy. “Uncle Ren, help me try it on.”
He smiled and tried on the scarf. It was very warm; he felt that the man would definitely like it.
However, Qu Tongqiu refused to see them.
After waiting several days only to get this result, Qu Ke almost immediately hid herself back in her room. He understood her sadness and disappointment.
He didn’t know where things had gone wrong again. That man clearly loved her so much—perhaps his hatred for him even exceeded his love for her.
Everything about that man was becoming more and more beyond his control and prediction. The human heart truly was not something he could command. With each passing day, he felt more powerless.
What he wanted was actually very little.
He only wanted that man to admire him for a lifetime, to stay by his side, and make him a breakfast.
There were many things he felt could be done or not done, no need to force them. As long as they could keep each other company in old age, that would be enough.
His name and that man’s name could never appear together on a wedding invitation.
Then being able to appear together on a gravestone would also be a kind of quiet happiness.
However, that man died before him.
—Extra: “Manager Ren’s World” End
