FSGOR Ch8

Jiang Tian had never suffered this kind of torment in his life.

Out in public, a 1.87-meter-tall, upright and handsome young man, standing halfway up a scenic mountain path—yet full of panic inside, terrified some pervert might sneak up from behind and get handsy with him.

His whole body felt like it was crawling with tens of thousands of ants. He was restless and uneasy, and before he realized it, he’d nearly finished the bottle of mineral water in his hand.

‘That pervert…’

Jiang Tian cursed inwardly but still had to pretend to be calm. He forced a strained smile while typing to the scumbag in the chat.

KIRA: Ge.

KIRA: It’s not even nighttime.

KIRA: [crying yellow bean emoji]

The emoji came from the chat app itself—completely devoid of any flirtiness or sensual tone. It was the kind of thing that would kill any romance, even between new couples in the honeymoon phase.

Afternoon Tea: Not sending?

Afternoon Tea: Then I’ll delete you.

KIRA: …

‘Why did this guy always threaten to delete him?!’

Jiang Tian, on the verge of exploding, crushed the water bottle flat in his hand and hurled it like a missile into a nearby trash can. Duang—a perfect shot.

He didn’t even have the breath to sigh. All he could do was silently remind himself: You’ve come this far—can’t back out now. Otherwise, all this humiliation will be for nothing.

The sunlight wasn’t even that harsh, but it still made it hard to keep his eyes open. Sweat started forming on his palms. When the scumbag didn’t reply right away, he hesitantly tested the waters.

KIRA: Ge.

KIRA: It’s not that I don’t want to send it…

KIRA: I’m on a mountain. There are other tourists around. I’m scared they’ll think I’m a creep.

Honestly, he had a point. Stripping in broad daylight for a photo could easily be mistaken for public indecency. If someone reported him, the park security might come drag him away—and then how would he save face?

Afternoon Tea: Find another place.

KIRA: …Okay.

KIRA: Let me look.

KIRA: Give me a little time.

According to his fake persona, he was a carefree, rich second-gen who rode a flashy motorcycle and went wherever he pleased—the undisputed coolest guy in the whole scenic area.

But the reality? Jiang Tian had climbed up the mountain on foot. And now he had to climb down. Even as a sports student, this was pushing it.

“…”

He’d dug this hole and had no choice but to jump in.

Jiang Tian pulled out his phone, searched for the nearest sightseeing tram station, and planned to hop on the next car down the mountain to escape the bird poop-infested park.

To keep the scumbag from deleting him—and to keep up the illusion that his fake identity was legit—he needed to find a place ASAP to shoot and send his very first abs pic.

He remembered there was a large mall near the back entrance of the park. After getting off at the tram’s final stop, all he had to do was cross the street. His plan: sneak into a clothing store dressing room and take the photo there. It was the only place that made sense.

Luckily, the boy was fit. He sprinted all the way to the station and just barely made it onto a tram heading downhill.

He was panting so hard the driver thought he had some emergency to deal with and sped down the winding road like he was on a rollercoaster. But Jiang Tian, consumed with anxiety, didn’t feel the motion sickness at all.

The only person who could make him emotionally unstable was the man in the chat window.

Afternoon Tea: How much longer?

Afternoon Tea: My patience has limits.

KIRA: Ge.

KIRA: I’m following GPS.

KIRA: It’s not that fast.

Afternoon Tea: Then hurry up.

Jiang Tian had nothing left in him to argue: “…”

It’s a weekday, for god’s sake—and this guy is out here being horny in broad daylight, exposing his true colors. Why is he so damn eager to get a picture of abs?

Jiang Tian cursed him silently, wishing he’d be tied up and wrecked in bed so badly he’d be left crying—but on the surface, he still had to act concerned.

KIRA: Ge, don’t you have work today?

Afternoon Tea: Mn.

KIRA: But it’s Friday…

Afternoon Tea: Business dinner.

Afternoon Tea: Drank too much.

Jiang Tian figured that meant the guy had a company dinner last night, drank too much, and took the day off.

He was just about to wrap up the conversation when two strange messages suddenly appeared, leaving him completely confused.

Afternoon Tea: You’re annoying most of the time.

Afternoon Tea: Like a little dog.

KIRA: …

KIRA: Are you insulting me?

Afternoon Tea: I’m complimenting you.

Jiang Tian paused. Sunlight slipped through a gap in the clouds and shone through the tram’s window, outlining the sharp lines of his nose and the firm set of his lips.

For some reason, he got the sense that the man on the other side of the screen was still a little drunk—not quite in his usual state.

It felt weird. Jiang Tian gripped his phone, unsure how to respond. In the end, he simply typed:

KIRA: I’m riding. I’ll message you again in half an hour.

Then, he went radio silent—pretending to vanish.

Meanwhile…

In the deep night of New York, Chu Xuyu stood with his gaze slightly unfocused, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling window. Below his feet, the dazzling city neon looked like an upside-down galaxy of stars.

He tried to calm the restlessness inside, but his heartbeat pounded like an out-of-control drum, reverberating in his chest and making his head throb faintly.

His phone screen was still lit up. The photo enlarged on it showed the view from atop a motorcycle. The reflective surface of the bike’s body vaguely revealed a silhouette, and under the helmet, the boy in the black windbreaker looked sharply handsome—yet there was also an inexplicable air of purity and uprightness.

To be honest, the way he sat didn’t look like someone who could actually ride, but somehow, he still had a striking, scene-stealing presence.

Chu Xuyu found it amusing. His fingertips brushed over the phone screen as if he could feel the texture of the boy’s skin through that faint digital touch—like he could squeeze water from that clear face.

“So I’m the bottom?” he sneered to himself. “Who told you that?”

This circle was far from simple. Not everyone played fixed roles, and he didn’t belong to any conventional ‘type.’

That was how Chu Xuyu saw himself. Still, there was no denying that he had always been a golden boy—admired by many, relentlessly pursued—but he’d never actually been in a relationship, let alone had any practical experience.

With that thought…

Chu Xuyu felt his body grow even hotter. His suit jacket had long been thrown onto the couch, his tie hung loose around his neck, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone—faintly revealing sculpted lines of muscle beneath.

His usual commanding and sharp presence was, at this moment, shredded by alcohol and a pounding headache—leaving behind a rare trace of loneliness and vulnerability.

Buzz—a message notification lit up the phone.

Chu Xuyu thought the little liar had returned already and smirked at how fast he moved. But when he glanced at the screen, it turned out to be a message from his secretary.

Judy: President Chu.

Judy: I’m making some hangover soup.

Judy: Would you like me to bring some over?

Chu Xuyu had six secretaries, each with their own role. Not all business banquets were accompanied by Judy, but whenever she was present, she always prepared a batch of her family’s hangover soup afterwards.

Chu Xuyu rarely got drunk, but post-drinking headaches were a chronic issue. He had to admit—Judy’s soup did help ease the discomfort quite effectively.

Afternoon Tea: Mn.

Afternoon Tea: Thank you.

The wait wasn’t long. He changed into loungewear, and soon, Judy knocked at the door, delivered the soup, and left without overstepping.

Jiang Jing (Judy) always worked with meticulous professionalism. Chu Xuyu trusted her greatly and did regret that she was planning to resign. As he smelled the familiar herbal aroma, the usually aloof CEO found himself unexpectedly initiating conversation.

Afternoon Tea: It tastes great.

Afternoon Tea: Is the longan from back home?

On the other end, Jiang Jing carefully composed her reply. After adding her boss’s private account, they had barely spoken outside work. She explained she had brought some sun-dried longan from her hometown—it was a key ingredient in her family’s hangover soup recipe.

Judy: It’s a local specialty from my hometown.

Judy: We stock a lot at home. My younger brother also likes this soup. I sometimes give it to friends, and they say it’s really good.

Judy: If you don’t mind, I’ll send you some when we’re back home. You should try it, President Chu.

Chu Xuyu thanked her and said it was too much trouble, but when she insisted, he no longer declined.

He vaguely remembered Judy mentioning a younger brother before. Something about that clicked now, so he asked—wasn’t her brother about to start university? She responded that he would graduate high school in June.

Judy: Thank you for your concern, President Chu.

Judy: My brother is a good kid.

Judy: He goes to Ningcheng No. 3 High.

Since it was the boss who initiated the conversation, and since she’d had a little to drink, Jiang Jing felt flattered and chatted a bit more—mentioning that her brother had already received a guaranteed admission offer from a top university. Her words were filled with pride.

Chu Xuyu sipped his hangover soup at a leisurely pace. For once, he was willing to chat longer. After all, that little liar online seemed to be about the same age. Yet, compared to him, this “real” little brother—doting, thoughtful, and sweet—felt like a different world entirely.

Especially when she said the longan was pre-packed by her brother in advance and tucked into her luggage—Chu Xuyu’s impression of the kid became one of genuine warmth and care.

Click—

 

The young CEO casually raised his phone and snapped a photo in the dimly lit room. On the table was a small bowl of hangover soup. He didn’t add any caption—just sent the picture to that little Border Collie pup.

Afternoon Tea: [Shared image]

When the message popped up, Jiang Tian had just exited the back entrance of the scenic area and was striding quickly toward the crosswalk. Upon seeing the familiar bowl of hangover soup in the image, he froze on the spot.

An unexplainable wave of fury surged up from deep inside, burning away what little rationality he had left. He didn’t even notice the light had turned from green to red.

Honk—honk—

The blaring of car horns yanked Jiang Tian back to reality. Embarrassed, he quickly retreated behind the crosswalk and gave a slight bow in apology.

He’d been in too much of a rush—this was dangerous. He sternly warned himself not to let emotions cloud his judgment.

Even if that scumbag was sipping his sister’s signature longan hangover soup and sending photos of it to his online flirtation partner.

After a pause, he feigned ignorance and pretended not to recognize the soup in the bowl.

Afternoon Tea: Hangover soup.

KIRA: Made it last night?

Afternoon Tea: Mn.

KIRA: Looks pretty good.

KIRA: I’m almost there.

KIRA: Mall near Qingxuan Mountain.

Afternoon Tea: Not going to ask me?

KIRA: Hm?

Afternoon Tea: If my head hurts when I’m drunk.

Jiang Tian: “……”

I hope it hurts like hell right now.

He took a deep breath. The light turned green. He crossed the road slowly, anxiety swirling in his chest as he mentally braced himself. If he was going to act, he had to play the role flawlessly.

Besides, he could feel the scumbag’s impatience. That sense of urgency made him move faster too. He rushed into a store that sold outdoor wear, grabbed a random jacket off a rack, and charged into a fitting room.

Two store clerks exchanged wide-eyed looks behind him—both stunned, clearly never having seen such a stunningly handsome guy walk in before.

But Jiang Tian was feeling guilty. He wasn’t here to buy clothes—he was about to do something very questionable. Out of guilt, he knew he’d have to buy the jacket afterward to make up for it.

With long strides, he headed straight for the fitting room in the back, shut the door, and let out a long exhale.

But the scumbag’s messages kept rolling in.

Afternoon Tea: Little dog.

Afternoon Tea: Still not done?

Jiang Tian had no choice. He replied in a coaxing tone, pretending to be sweet.

KIRA: Ge.

KIRA: I just got into the changing room.

KIRA: I’ll send it over soon.

Afternoon Tea: Okay.

Afternoon Tea: Have you sent pics like this to anyone else before?

‘As if!’

Jiang Tian felt a splitting headache. If not for the revenge plan, there was no way in hell he’d ever send a risqué photo to someone. But the scumbag didn’t seem to believe him and even tapped his avatar.

Jiang Tian hadn’t set a custom reaction for being “tapped,” but he could guess the meaning: Was that supposed to be a head pat?

“…”

His ears turned a little red. He couldn’t understand how something that suggestive even made its way into his head.

But he had no choice now. He opened the camera app on his phone, reluctantly raised it in front of himself.

With his other hand, he lifted the hem of his black windbreaker, revealing a sliver of pale, toned midriff. A light layer of muscle stretched over his torso—faint outlines of abs shimmering under the fitting room’s bright lights.

Click—

The shutter sound rang out unexpectedly—he’d forgotten to mute it. The chatter outside the changing room quieted noticeably, and Jiang Tian wanted nothing more than to disappear into the floor.

His face was burning red, a mix of shame and fury, like a good boy being forced into doing something shameful. And yet here he was, voluntarily sending a shirtless photo to an online “scam target” and having to say embarrassing things to keep him happy.

KIRA: [Shared image]

KIRA: I’ve never sent an abs pic to anyone before.

KIRA: Ge.

KIRA: You’re the first.