Chapter 517

Inside a private ward of the hospital’s proctology department, Ling Nanxu finished changing out of the patient gown and back into his everyday clothes, moving slowly as he gathered and organized the few personal items he had accumulated during his stay. The sterile air still clung faintly to his senses, carrying with it a lingering sense of discomfort that refused to dissipate even as he prepared to leave.

Not long after, a towering, iron‑tower‑like man pushed the door open and stepped inside with several sheets of paper in his hand, his presence filling the room with an unspoken weight.

“The discharge procedures are all done,” he said plainly as he walked closer. “We can leave now.”

As he spoke, he reached forward and took the bag of daily necessities directly from Ling Nanxu’s hands, his movements natural and unforced, and his voice softened unconsciously as he added, “Let me handle this kind of rough work.”

Ling Nanxu’s expression turned complicated.

During his hospitalization, it was this man who took care of him from beginning to end, handling everything with meticulous attention, leaving no detail unattended.

At first, Ling Nanxu’s heart had been filled with resentment and humiliation, yet as the days passed and the constant presence continued, that resentment quietly faded, replaced instead by something far more unsettling—a vague sense of dependence that crept into his thoughts without permission.

He knew this feeling was wrong, deeply wrong, and the realization made his chest tighten with unease. After steadying himself and forcing his thoughts into order, his gaze hardened with resolve.

“Zhao Tiezhu,” Ling Nanxu said coldly, his voice deliberately distant, “this is something you owe me. Don’t expect gratitude.”

Through their time together, he had already learned the man’s name. It sounded crude, embarrassingly rustic, yet carried an undeniable masculine bluntness that felt oppressively solid, though this impression existed mostly within Ling Nanxu’s own conflicted mind.

Zhao Tiezhu walked ahead and led him out of the hospital, guiding him into a modest sedan parked outside. Once inside the car, he glanced through the rearview mirror and asked casually, “Nanxu, are you heading home, or back to school?”

“School,” Ling Nanxu answered, his tone flat and restrained.

“Alright,” Zhao Tiezhu replied cheerfully as he started the engine.

Sitting in the back seat, Ling Nanxu stared ahead without focus, the recent events replaying in his mind with a surreal haziness that made everything feel unreal. He silently resolved that after today, he should never see Zhao Tiezhu again, because if this continued, he feared his psyche might truly spiral into something unrecognizable.

I’m a man. I’m a man. I should like women.

He repeated this to himself over and over, as if it were a mantra capable of restoring order.

Before he realized it, the car slowed to a stop.

Pulled from his spiraling thoughts, Ling Nanxu glanced outside the window, only to find that the car was not parked near the school gate at all, but instead on a deserted stretch of road on the outskirts, far removed from any sign of people.

His heart skipped, and he turned sharply toward the driver’s seat.

Zhao Tiezhu was staring at him, his gaze thick with undisguised desire.

A sense of danger surged through Ling Nanxu, and he reached instinctively for the door handle, attempting to flee, yet whether due to lingering weakness from his hospitalization or sheer panic, his body refused to cooperate, his legs heavy as though stripped of strength.

Moments later, a dark shadow loomed closer and closer within his widening pupils, until hot breath brushed against his face.

Strangely, Ling Nanxu did not feel fear.

Instead, buried beneath the alarm, there emerged a twisted, inexplicable sense of anticipation.

【Ding! Host’s behind-the-scenes manipulation has caused Protagonist Ling Nanxu’s orientation to undergo severe deviation. Gained 2400 Villain Points. Ling Nanxu’s Protagonist Halo -120. Host’s Villain Halo +120!】

Wang Haoran: “!!!”

A short while later, the sedan stopped once more, this time at the entrance of the Art Academy, and Ling Nanxu stepped out, his movements stiff and mechanical.

“Nanxu, whenever I have time, I’ll come see you,” Zhao Tiezhu said, casting him a gaze brimming with raw masculine charm.

Ling Nanxu wanted to tell him to stay as far away as possible, to never appear before him again, yet when the words reached his lips, they tangled and refused to emerge. By the time he hesitated through the thought, the car had already driven away.

He watched silently until it vanished from sight, then slowly withdrew his gaze and slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a cash check.

The number printed on it made his breath catch.

One million.

It was the check Zhao Tiezhu had given him.

Ling Nanxu stared blankly at the string of tempting digits, his thoughts drifting. His family background was far from wealthy, and in order to support his tuition at the Art Academy, his family had nearly exhausted all their savings. With this money, their living conditions could finally improve, allowing them to breathe a little easier.

And this million was only the beginning.

Zhao Tiezhu had said it clearly—if Ling Nanxu behaved obediently, there would be endless money in the future.

Between the growing psychological dependence, the subtle shifts within his heart, and his desire to provide his family with a better life, Ling Nanxu ultimately did not refuse the check.

Deep down, a voice warned him that once he spends the money, there would be no turning back, that he would sink deeper and deeper into something irreversible.

Another voice laughed coldly and told him that a million was a million, not something to throw away lightly. After all, it already happened once—what difference does it make if it happens again, or several more times?

Weren’t there countless beautiful women in the Art Academy desperately trying to attach themselves to wealthy patrons?

And him?

As a man, he possessed conditions so favorable that even those women would feel ashamed.

What was there to be dissatisfied about?

The two voices argued fiercely within him until the latter finally won.

Since he already suffered the loss, he might as well make more money, earn enough to eventually cut Zhao Tiezhu off entirely, or at the very least, secure his own life. With so many beautiful women at the Art Academy and money now in hand, pursuing them would no longer be a distant fantasy.

Reassuring himself this way, Ling Nanxu took a deep breath and walked into the campus.

Along the way, he passed several beautifully dressed girls, his gaze unconsciously lingering on them, yet to his shock, he felt none of the excitement he once would have. Instead, an unfamiliar jealousy and envy surfaced, cold and sharp.

As a man, he shouldn’t feel this way.

This was a woman’s mindset.

A chill crept up his spine as he tried desperately to shake it off, only to find that the feeling clung stubbornly, refusing to fade.

—

Wang Haoran arrived at school for class, and during the break, he received a call from Zuoqiu Chenyu.

“I followed your instructions,” she reported calmly. “My subordinate already gave Ling Nanxu the one million, and Ling Nanxu accepted it.”

The outcome fell entirely within Wang Haoran’s expectations, and he showed no surprise.

“Good work,” he said approvingly before continuing, “Reward that subordinate who handled Ling Nanxu with another million, and tell him that if he can persuade Ling Nanxu to undergo a gender reassignment surgery, there will be an additional grand reward.”

“You’re really generous,” Zuo Qiu Chenyu said, stunned.

“Why, feeling sorry for my money?” Wang Haoran chuckled lightly.

Tens or hundreds of millions meant nothing to him; what truly amused him was the sheer malicious pleasure of watching this cross-dressing protagonist descend even further.

“The money’s yours. Spend it however you like,” she replied coldly, her tone dripping with sourness. “I’m just an old, unloved woman. Who am I to interfere?”

Even through the phone, Wang Haoran could practically smell the jealousy.