Possessive Madman Coaxes Him With a Hand on His Waist! The Cold-Hearted Host Starts to Feel Something - Chapter 76

Li Cheng quickly signed a response:

“No need.”

“Hmph.” Zhou Ci couldn’t help the low chuckle that slipped past his lips, his eyes filled with that languid, teasing look—half amused, half something deeper.

“Let’s buy a bouquet anyway.”

Li Cheng pressed his lips together, his gestures casual as he signed: “Whatever.”

Zhou Ci turned to the flower shop owner. “Everything my wife just looked at or touched—I’ll take it all.”

“Oh, oh!” The shop owner’s grin widened so far it wrinkled the corners of her eyes. “All right, all right, give me just a minute!”

A few minutes later, she handed the flowers over to Li Cheng—nine small bundles in total, filling his arms to the brim.

Li Cheng was sure she’d given him more than he’d looked at. He’d only touched three kinds, after all.

But he didn’t refuse. He gathered all of them into his arms.

No matter what the reason was—

Zhou Ci had bought him flowers.

That alone made him quietly happy.

His mood lifted as he handed a few small bunches to Little Tail, keeping one vivid cluster of red fox-tail flowers for himself. With a light step, he walked forward.

Behind him, Zhou Ci was paying the bill.

He glanced sideways at Li Cheng.

The man looked like the wind itself followed him—his very back seemed to smile, the ends of his hair fluttering playfully as he walked.

For some reason, Zhou Ci suddenly thought the money was well spent.

After paying, he caught up, falling into step beside Li Cheng.

For the first time, he found walking could feel… nice.

He glanced at the man beside him. Li Cheng had drunk the gene potion, yet there were no aftereffects—nothing strange at all.

He didn’t look like someone scheming anything either.

Two thoughts crossed Zhou Ci’s mind.

Either Li Cheng wasn’t a demon at all, and he’d been mistaken that day—but that seemed unlikely.

Or… Li Cheng was simply that good at pretending. Everything he showed Zhou Ci might be an act.

But it didn’t matter. Zhou Ci had time to uncover the truth.

And he didn’t mind playing along.

When they got home, Zhou Ci pointed toward a vacant living room. “You’ll stay there,” he told Little Tail.

Then he added firmly, “Since you’re staying under my roof, you’ll follow my rules.”

Little Tail nodded obediently from behind Li Cheng.

“First,” Zhou Ci continued, “don’t move anything in this house. Not even the direction it’s facing.”

“Second, stop clinging to my wife all the time.”

As he spoke, he physically separated the two.

His sharp gaze landed on Little Tail. “You’re not that young. It shouldn’t be hard to find a job in the Realm of Illusion. Go out tomorrow and get one. Don’t expect me to feed you.”

His voice carried open disdain. “I don’t keep freeloaders.”

“I can’t find a job,” Little Tail protested, fists clenched. Back when he still bore his demonic form, survival had been his only goal—what use did he have for human work?

Now his master had cleansed his demonic aura, but he didn’t know how to do anything humans did. And besides, he refused to serve them.

“That’s your problem,” Zhou Ci said coldly. He loathed useless people—it made his disdain deepen.

Hearing their exchange, Li Cheng suddenly had an idea. He tugged on Zhou Ci’s sleeve and, after setting the flowers aside, signed: “Sir, let him work at your weapon research center. He’s very good at fighting.”

Zhou Ci stared for a second before letting out a short laugh. “Good at fighting?”

“What—good at fighting with kids?” He paused, smirking. “Do you even know what kind of place the weapon research center is?”

He lowered his gaze to Little Tail, his tone half-warning. “That’s not a playground.”

At that, Little Tail’s temper flared. He balled his fist and swung at Zhou Ci.

Zhou Ci caught the blur of motion out of the corner of his eye—so fast it startled him. His pupils narrowed with sudden interest.

He sidestepped the first blow easily, but Little Tail’s next attack came even faster, his movements a blur that pushed Zhou Ci’s reflexes to the limit.

So—this wasn’t child’s play after all.

Zhou Ci grabbed Little Tail’s fist midair. The boy twisted, kicking up toward his throat.

They exchanged several blows in the living room before Zhou Ci pressed the muzzle of his gun to Little Tail’s forehead, ending the match.

“If you’re so capable, then don’t use a gun!” Little Tail shouted, still defiant, his fists tight.

“Hmph.” Zhou Ci looked pleased rather than angry. The kid was better than expected—made him want to train him properly. “This is called strategy, kid. All’s fair in war.”

Then, shifting back to the point, he said: “Not bad. You can report to the research center tomorrow.”

Little Tail scoffed softly but swallowed his pride. “Fine! I’ll go!”

Li Cheng hadn’t expected things to resolve so easily. His heart lightened at once.

Zhou Ci holstered his gun and glanced sidelong at him. “Didn’t think someone as delicate as you would have such a strong little brother.”

Li Cheng’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He didn’t answer.

Zhou Ci stepped closer, a faint, knowing curve at his lips. “Shower together?”

Li Cheng’s long lashes fluttered, eyes brightening in surprise. What’s going on? Did he suddenly become enlightened?

He stared at Zhou Ci for two seconds—then nodded.

As Zhou Ci turned away, his mouth quirked with a faint, teasing grin.

Li Cheng followed quietly.

Inside the bathroom, Zhou Ci once again saw him stripped bare.

Not too thin, not too soft—just right in every place.

Beads of water rolled over his translucent skin, blurring the lines of his figure.

When Li Cheng washed his hair, he rubbed it dry with a towel—roughly, almost impatiently.

Zhou Ci, wrapping a towel around his waist, couldn’t help but notice how much rougher Li Cheng was than him.

“You’re not going to blow it dry?” Zhou Ci asked.

Li Cheng froze, his gaze dimming slightly.

Yan Jin had always loved drying his hair for him. Every time, Li Cheng would rest his head against his lover’s waist, while Yan Jin gently, patiently blew it dry.

Another spoiled habit—one he should break.

“Whoosh, whoosh…”

The sudden sound startled him. Zhou Ci had tugged him onto a small stool.

“I’ll do it.”

The warm air brushed across his scalp, fingers moving through his hair—steady, gentle, deliberate.

For the first time, Li Cheng felt it deeply: this man before him was the one he loved.

The one he would love, no matter life or death.

The one who made his heart race again and again.

Almost unconsciously, Li Cheng wrapped his arms around Zhou Ci’s waist, resting his head against him and letting him finish drying his hair.

Zhou Ci’s body stiffened for a moment.

Then he turned the wind down to the lowest setting, taking his time. Only after a long while did he stop.

When he finished, Li Cheng felt something soft draped over his shoulders—a white dress shirt.

Before he could ask, Zhou Ci said, “There aren’t any clothes for you here. You’ll have to wear mine again.”

He paused, adding with faint amusement, “It’s big enough on you—you don’t even need pants.”

By then, Zhou Ci had already dressed himself in his usual somber black.

Once Li Cheng slipped on the shirt, he realized the man was right—the fit was oversized, perfectly covering him.

After they left the bathroom, Zhou Ci answered a call, then went to the living room and switched on the holographic display.

Li Cheng padded over barefoot.

Without hesitation, he climbed into Zhou Ci’s lap, straddling him.

He wrapped his arms around Zhou Ci’s neck and rested his head against his shoulder—like using him as a pillow.

What he didn’t realize was that Zhou Ci was in the middle of a live holo-conference.

On the other side of the screen were the entire research staff of the weapon development center.

And Zhou Ci’s hand… visibly trembled.