Sharp-tongued, foul-mouthed pursuer who says one thing but means another × honest, straightforward, domestic husband who provides running commentary
Fang Hui is twenty-nine this year.
He's good at everything from laundry to cooking, and he's fairly handsome, yet women have never given him a second glance. There's only one reason:
He can't get it up.
His love life is a bust, and his career isn't going anywhere either. His peers are either married with children or climbing the career ladder, while he's stuck in the same place. Even his new boss is a few years younger than him.
His new boss is handsome and dashing, and spends money like water. Even his carpets are made of imported wool. The people he brings home change every day, and there's never a shortage of juicy gossip about his love life.
Wearing a polyester sweater, Fang Hui pushed open the office door. The moment he touched the handle, static electricity made him jerk his hand away in embarrassment.
Hah. He hates rich people most of all.
The company annual party was only a few days away. The table was covered in fancy liquor he'd never even heard of. Given his usual spending habits, even drinking away his sorrows would mean checking his wallet first. He'd better take this chance to drink as much as he could.
The mattress beneath him was unbelievably soft, nothing like the wooden bed in his rental apartment. He was so comfortable he wanted to roll over.
Wait, someone was holding him. And why did his butt hurt?
He turned around.
Hold on, wasn't that his boss?
*
Song Mingyue had been the object of everyone's envy since childhood. He was handsome, came from a good family, and had sailed through everything from school to his career. But only he knew he had one fatal flaw:
He couldn't get it up.
Men or women, sweet or wild, nothing worked.
Every day he tried different people in different ways, but without exception,
he just couldn't get it up.
Until one day, a man in a cheap sweater opened his door. The static electricity made him jerk his hand away. He parted his lips and gently sucked on his fingertip, then awkwardly gave him a little bow.
That was the first time he'd ever felt aroused.
*
The next day.
“No password, no spending limit. As long as you keep me company, it's yours.” Song Mingyue tossed a bank card onto the table.
Across from him, the man had his hands clenched tightly on his knees. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked so humiliated and angry that he might burst into tears.
“Boss, I'm straight.”
2026.1.7
Theme: Fate is written in the stars~
