Possessive Madman Coaxes Him With a Hand on His Waist! The Cold-Hearted Host Starts to Feel Something - Chapter 91

He wouldn’t hurt himself anymore—

If he liked someone that much, then he’d dig his heart out and give it to them.

The instant Li Cheng lunged at him, Zhou Ci threw the gun aside, terrified of hurting him.

Seeing the blood streaking Li Cheng’s neck and arms, Zhou Ci’s eyes narrowed.

Such a sudden change—White Si must have done something when he drew Li Cheng’s blood earlier!

Zhou Ci didn’t fight back. He dropped the weapon completely and let Li Cheng pin him against the wall.

A faint crimson gleam flickered in Li Cheng’s eyes. They were open, but unfocused—dazed, unnatural, like his body wasn’t entirely under his control.

Zhou Ci knew that look all too well.

It was the same as the beasts in the lab after they were force-fed enhancement drugs to test their full strength.

So… Li Cheng’s killing intent wasn’t real. He was being driven by that twisted, sick craving.

Ignoring the violent tension in Li Cheng’s grip, Zhou Ci caught his wrist. “What did you do to yourself? Why are you this hurt?”

Li Cheng’s head shifted slightly, gaze lowering toward Zhou Ci’s neck—

And for a fleeting moment, he looked as though he wanted to tear it open with his teeth.

His expression was devoid of emotion. Zhou Ci had seen that same emptiness in countless beasts—it was unmistakable.

So the wounds all over Li Cheng’s body… he’d probably inflicted them on himself while trying to hold back.

The thought made Zhou Ci want to toss White Si into a vat of boiling oil.

“You want to bite me, don’t you?” Zhou Ci asked evenly.

Li Cheng’s sharp fangs parted slightly, their points glinting, restless for blood.

“Go ahead. Bite me.” Zhou Ci’s tone was calm, serious.

The next instant, the world spun.

Li Cheng yanked him sideways, and the two of them tumbled to the floor.

Li Cheng pressed him down hard, fingers tightening around Zhou Ci’s throat.

Zhou Ci’s face reddened under the pressure.

He knew—Li Cheng wasn’t like this when he wasn’t in his beast form.

He was obedient then. Gentle. Once he changed back, everything would be fine. He just had to hold on.

Li Cheng’s blurred eyes flickered as reality slipped away from him, his grip growing stronger.

“Li Cheng… wake up…” Zhou Ci’s voice trembled by his ear.

For a moment, Li Cheng’s eyes wavered. His hand loosened.

Zhou Ci quickly fished a tranquilizing mist syringe from his pocket—just as pain shot through his neck.

“Tch—”

Li Cheng’s fangs had pierced his skin.

The bite was numb and burning at once. And in this half-beast state, Li Cheng’s strength was terrifying.

After tasting Zhou Ci’s blood again, Li Cheng’s agitation began to fade. His heartbeat slowed. The restless fury quieted into calm.

But Zhou Ci was growing weaker. The weight on his body was getting lighter.

He lowered his gaze—

And found a small, crimson fox lying against him.

It was the same one he’d caught before!

What the hell—

Had he really captured Li Cheng’s true form back then?!

Everything suddenly made sense.

No wonder he couldn’t find Li Cheng when he got home that day—he’d been holding him in his arms the whole time!

Even the injury on the fox’s leg matched perfectly! How had he missed that?

Zhou Ci looked at the little fox. “So you turned back because you calmed down a bit? Or is it the effect of that drug…”

His neck still throbbed where the bite had landed.

He reached out and brushed the fox’s head. It was limp, barely moving, looking utterly exhausted.

Zhou Ci picked him up, his tone caught between reproach and helpless fondness. “You really ran me in circles, didn’t you?”

He was about to say more when a sharp knocking startled him.

The doorbell chimed urgently—“Ding-ling, ding-ling, ding-ling…”—followed by a rapid pounding.

Still holding the little fox, Zhou Ci stepped out of the bedroom and looked at the display screen.

White Si.

He’d come back.

If that man saw this scene, everything would be ruined.

Zhou Ci walked a few meters toward the door, voice hard with irritation. “Haven’t you had enough?”

Outside, White Si’s voice carried a faint smile. “Mr. Zhou, I left one of my medicines here earlier. I came back to retrieve it.”

Zhou Ci’s eyes flicked toward the living room table.

A small vial, no bigger than a thumb, sat neatly on the surface.

He kept his tone steady. “I’ll bring it out to you.”

“No, no,” White Si said quickly. “That one must be handled with contamination-proof gloves. Better if I come in and take it myself, Mr. Zhou.”

Zhou Ci’s eyes narrowed. Deliberate. He’d left it there on purpose—to come back and check.

But with Li Cheng like this, how could he let him see?

“Awo…”

The fox in his arms let out a faint whine, weak and tired.

Zhou Ci stroked his head gently, heart aching.

The knocking resumed, relentless.

“Knock, knock, knock… Mr. Zhou, please open the door so I can retrieve the vial.”

Zhou Ci’s grip tightened. If he didn’t open the door, White Si’s suspicion would only deepen.

He could protect an ordinary beast within the False Realm.

But not a half-human, half-beast like the one in his arms. That would put him directly at odds with the institute that governed this world.

His gaze flicked toward the bathroom.

He carried the little fox inside and turned on the water full blast—the sound of running water filling the air.

He set the fox gently on the dry counter. “Don’t make a sound.”

The little fox curled up into a ball immediately. Zhou Ci smoothed down his fur and whispered, “Don’t be scared. I’ll be right back.”

Then he left the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

For some reason, his words seemed to truly soothe the trembling creature.

Zhou Ci pressed a bandage over his bleeding neck, the sting still sharp.

Then he strode to the door and opened it coldly.

“Sorry to intrude, Mr. Zhou.”

White Si stepped in, gaze sweeping around the room as he sauntered to the table.

He pulled on his gloves slowly, deliberately, and placed the vial back into his case.

Zhou Ci’s stare could have cut glass. Every second made him want to throw the man out.

White Si, of course, noticed the bandage on Zhou Ci’s neck—and the faint trace of blood seeping beneath it.

“Mr. Zhou,” he said, voice smooth as a serpent’s hiss, “what happened to your neck? Should I help you dress the wound?”