CHAPTER 105: KNEEL I

"Is he okay now?"

"For the time being, yes. But the boy requires several treatments, psychotherapy sessions, and even some strong medication. His condition isn’t exactly normal. However, as long as he avoids the triggers that make him lose control of his emotions, he won’t die."

"Talk like a human."

"Oh? And does my lord resemble a human and know how they speak? My apologies, I don’t know much in that field."

"So, when will Sian wake up?"

"Soldier, there’s no need to panic. I said he’s fine, so he’s fine."

"Let’s wait a little longer."

Sian’s consciousness wavered between clarity and oblivion.

Still, he could hear the different voices around him.

Due to his nature and constant vigilance, he already knew four people were surrounding him and talking at this very moment.

Then, he felt his throat tighten — as if someone were choking him.

...No, it wasn’t a person.

It was his own emotions spiraling out of control, memories flashing through his mind like an endless, exhausting reel.

But Sian wasn’t the weak, fragile boy everyone assumed him to be. He did what he always did: he gathered all those overwhelming emotions and terrifying memories, locked them deep—deep—within his soul, sealed them inside a massive black box, and buried them along with his pain and fears, so he wouldn’t have to face them.

Not now, at least.

Not anytime soon.

"Hah... Hah... Hah..."

Sian woke up suddenly and sat up straight.

Sweat dripped from his temples, and his forehead was soaked.

He gripped the sheets beneath him tightly, steadying his breath.

As the fog around his vision cleared, his amber eyes regained focus and returned to their usual sharpness.

All voices in the room came to a halt the moment the boy on the grand bed stirred.

With teary eyes, a pale and clammy face, flushed cheeks, and white strands of hair sticking to his skin and covering half of his face—he looked like an angel.

Yet the lifeless gaze in his eyes made him resemble more a fallen angel who had seen hell.

"Sian, Sian, Sweetheart, are you alright? Are you in pain? Tell me. I’m right here with you."

Lan Qisheng trembled in worry as he hovered over the boy he loved.

He looked more like the patient than Sian did.

Only God knew how hard these past few hours had been for him.

Despite being in a suspicious environment, aware of the dangerous identity of one of the individuals here, and having seen armed men at every corner of this isolated villa, he hadn’t cared.

Nothing mattered to him—nothing except seeing Sian open his eyes again.

Thank God.

Sian was okay.

He was okay.

Lan Qisheng gazed into Sian’s eyes, which had returned to normal, and sighed in relief.

Just as he was about to ask the teen another question, he noticed Sian’s gaze shift past him.

Then came a voice from those beautiful cherry-colored lips—though paler than usual, they were still breathtaking.

"Come here."

Sian’s voice rang through the silent room.

Lan Qisheng, still holding Sian’s hand, stiffened noticeably.

But Sian didn’t notice.

He was too angry—furiously angry—and the reason for that rage was standing right before him.

"He Jinyun, don’t make me repeat myself."

"Step forward."

"Now."

All three people in the room watched with open mouths as the strong, intimidating man suddenly... changed!?

No, not changed—possessed.

Yes, that’s what Dr. Muus was thinking.

His Lord must be possessed.

Otherwise, how could anyone explain this scene?

The once-powerful and imposing man was now staring at the floor, his golden eyes trembling with fear—as if he were a misbehaving child caught red-handed by his parents, anxiously awaiting punishment...?

This... this couldn’t be real, could it?

Even Lan Qisheng and the silent Jiao Liangchen were thinking the exact same thing.

But the man himself didn’t pay attention to their reactions, nor did he care about his image.

He was too worried—frankly, terrified.

Not of his Gege’s punishment; Sian had always been cold and distant, yes, but he also cared for him and never hurt him.

No, what He Jinyun feared most... was being hated.

Even if he had reasons for everything he’d done—even if he hadn’t done anything truly evil since arriving in this world—he still feared being misunderstood.

Feared his Gege’s hatred.

He Jinyun stepped forward and stood directly before Sian.

But since the latter was still sitting on the bed, he was immediately overwhelmed by the man’s height, build, and the intense masculine pheromones radiating from him.

"Do you want me to lift my old neck just to look at your face?" Sian said with an annoyed tone.

He would never admit it—but he was jealous.

Jealous that the boy who once barely reached his chest now had a stronger, taller body than even his own in the previous world.

"Kneel."

The word exploded in the room like a thunderclap, leaving everyone stunned. Surely they’d misheard him?

But the moment that followed confirmed they hadn’t lost their hearing—and this wasn’t a dream.

As soon as Sian uttered that single word, a group of men dressed in black stormed into the room.

Each one held a different weapon—knives, pistols—and they all pointed them at the tall man standing before the boy on the bed.

"Oh, He Jinyun, you’re so good, aren’t you?"

Sian said with a smile so charming that even his sharp canines were visible — a sight that was never a good sign.

And no one knew this better than He Jinyun.

"You dare let your men raise their weapons against me? This is the second time, isn’t it?" Sian added, his voice still laced with a pleasant tone, though the threat beneath it was unmistakable.

At that moment, his brother was furious — visibly so.

There was only one thought running through He Jinyun’s mind:

[He’s doomed.]

"No... it’s...not like that... Gege... I—"

The man in the silver mask and golden eyes stuttered, unable to form a coherent response. So instead, he shifted his gaze toward his men.

In that instant.

The moment those golden eyes left the boy’s figure, a chilling, dark energy burst from the man’s body — a power so terrifying it sent a wave of dread through the air.

The moment his men in black felt his murderous intent, their bodies trembled in fear, as if their souls were on the verge of being ripped from them.

Hadn’t they just followed their Boss’s orders? The rule was clear: anyone who dared insult the boss must die.

So why now... why was the boss looking at them like they were the ones about to die?

"You worthless scum."

"You dare..."

"...Dare threaten my Gege? You have a death wish."

"G...Gege? What...?"