Run the Plot Ch.57.1

Chapter 57.1: Confession * Commendation

Under the faint, scattered light—

Qi He’s figure moved smoothly, his muscles defined in graceful lines that carried both strength and restraint, their contours gleaming faintly.

Yan Chuanbai froze for a few seconds, then walked toward him.

His lashes lowered slightly, taking in those clear eyes and the curve of his lips. His breath hitched as he asked, lowly, “…What are you doing?”

Qi He met his deep gaze.

He didn’t really know how to seduce someone; after a moment’s thought, he lifted his eyes and said, “Whatever you want—do it yourself.”

Yan Chuanbai’s expression changed abruptly.

Two seconds of silence.

Then, all at once, his gaze broke its restraint—Qi He only felt a sudden surge of force. Without resisting, he was shoved down with a thud, his back sinking into the softness of the bed beneath him—

Before he could react, Yan Chuanbai’s tall frame had already loomed over him. One hand seized his wrist and pinned it above his head; the other wrapped firmly around his waist. His head lowered, his voice husky:

“You’re serious?”

A jolt of electricity shot up Qi He’s spine—his instincts screamed danger, yet he still met Yan Chuanbai’s eyes. “…Yeah.”

The next second, his lips were sealed. “Mm—”

Yan Chuanbai’s brow furrowed with suppressed intensity as he kissed him, fierce and consuming. Like a conqueror laying siege, Qi He was enveloped in heat and breathless confusion.

After that wave of feverish hunger, the weight above him eased.

Qi He drew in a breath; all he saw above was the ceiling.

Yan Chuanbai’s mouth traced down toward his neck, his breath hot and uneven. “What’s this supposed to mean? I was going to let you off today…” His trembling voice brushed against Qi He’s skin.

What? Qi He tilted his head slightly.

Before he could think further, kisses landed along his ear and neck, each one sending another shiver through him. Pinned beneath, all he could see in the dim light were the sharp lines of Yan Chuanbai’s shoulders and the coiled strength of his body above him.

He was still thinking about following the “plot.”

Then he gently lifted one leg, brushing it against Yan Chuanbai’s waist. The body before him suddenly jolted! Yan Chuanbai propped himself up in an instant, lowering his eyes—his gaze flaring with fierce excitement.

“What’s this? So eager now?”

Qi He froze for a beat.

Only then did he realize something was off: they were already in this kind of relationship—so to Yan Chuanbai, this wasn’t seduction at all, but initiative?

—He was good at every form of strategy and analysis. But feelings weren’t data. There were no references, no formulas to follow.

He’d taken a wrong step somewhere.

What now—should he stop, or keep going?

Yan Chuanbai, completely riled up by him, leaned down again.

Qi He’s fingertips trembled; he tilted his head back—amid the waves of shuddering sensation, his mind still clung stubbornly to its purpose for being here.

That brief lapse didn’t go unnoticed.

A sharp pain tugged at his ear—dragging him back to focus. “Mm.”

Yan Chuanbai released him with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “…You’re spacing out now? What are you thinking about?”

Before Qi He could answer, another fierce kiss swallowed him whole.

He endured the unrestrained onslaught born of Yan Chuanbai’s instincts; their lips and tongues tangled until his eyes blurred with heat. He’s already started—should he give up now?

His head grew heavy, his vision flickering between light and dark.

Even as he clung to Yan Chuanbai, sinking deeper into the dizzying tide, he forced his mind to stay tethered.

What should he do…

What feels unlike himself to do…

Suddenly, he drew in a sharp breath and pulled back.

Looking up, his thoughts burned through him as he steeled himself. “Yan Chuanbai… do whatever you want with me.”

Yan Chuanbai’s whole body went rigid—his expression changed at once.

Almost unable to control himself, Yan Chuanbai’s fingers clenched for two seconds against the bed before he forced himself to stop, staring hard at Qi He.

“…What’s wrong with you?”

If it were him—he would never let himself be in a position of weakness.

Not even in something like this.

Qi He’s eyes lit up, and he pressed in harder.

He grabbed Yan Chuanbai, his lips already swollen from kissing, and leaned close to his ear. “I’m yours.”

Yan Chuanbai could barely hold himself back anymore. He buried his head for a deep breath, then lifted it sharply, eyes blazing. “…I mean, I’m happy to hear that.”

His hand tilted Qi He’s chin up, his gaze locking onto him with a wild, beastlike gleam. “But normally, what you should say is—‘you’re mine.’”

“Isn’t that right, Qi He?”

Qi He felt nothing when he’d said his own line.

But that line—from Yan Chuanbai—actually made his pulse quicken.

For an instant, his eyes burned, then he suppressed it and continued guiding the moment. But more direct words—he couldn’t say them. He was used to being the one in control; that earlier “do whatever you want” had already pushed his limit.

Qi He stilled for two breaths, then pulled Yan Chuanbai’s hand against his own body, wordless, only staring straight at him.

Yan Chuanbai’s restraint snapped. “Qi He—who are you t*rturing here?”

Sweat rolled down from his forehead, soaking his brows and lashes, lending him a raw, consuming intensity.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“You…” His lips parted, hesitant, his gaze probing Qi He’s face. “Do you… have a reason for doing this?”

—Finally.

Qi He exhaled and met his eyes. “Yes.”

Yan Chuanbai’s breath came fast and shallow.

Sensing something in Qi He’s look, he forced himself to hold back and asked, after a pause,

“Someone’s making you do this?”

Qi He, layered in defenses, answered quietly: “The script.”

Yan Chuanbai stayed silent for a long while, as if weighing every thought. Then he asked, “Does it have to do with me?”

Qi He met his eyes. “You’re the center of it.”

“If you don’t do this—what happens?”

“There’ll be… punishment at best. At worst, I’ll disappear.”

The hand around his waist suddenly tightened, trembling slightly. Heavy breaths brushed against his skin as Yan Chuanbai gathered all the scattered “fragments” he’d noticed before.

“If it weren’t for Gao Tang, then who would you have approached?”

“The upper ranks of Base III.”

A sharp glint flashed in Yan Chuanbai’s eyes—he seemed to grasp what kind of “missions” Qi He had been forced to carry out.

“That ‘watch’ of yours—was it some kind of tracker or transmitter?”

“It used to be. Not anymore.”

“You found a way to break free from it?”

“Yes.”

“Then… will you still disappear?”

“No.”

The conversation hovered at the edge of something dangerous, yet the worldline around them stayed steady—no ripples, no collapse.

Their words turned subtler, more restrained.

Qi He knew Yan Chuanbai had understood enough.

After a long pause, Yan Chuanbai spoke quietly: “Last time, you said you were ‘fine.’ So now—everything’s really over, right?”

Qi He’s tone softened. “It is.”

The tension in Yan Chuanbai’s shoulders finally eased.

He dropped his forehead against Qi He’s chest with a faint thud. The sweat on his skin soaked into Qi He’s collarbone, damp and warm. Then, his arms folded more gently around him, drawing him in completely, lips pressing against him without any trace of desire—

“…That’s enough.”

Qi He’s chest gave a faint tremor. He lowered his eyes.

Yan Chuanbai’s short hair brushed against the hollow of his neck, ticklish against his skin. Flesh to flesh, their warmth and heartbeats pressed together—real, immediate, undeniable.

And in that moment, Qi He felt it again, vividly and unmistakably—

Yan Chuanbai truly loved him.

He buried himself there for a while before finally moving to rise.

The waves of emotion that had surged within Qi He had subsided. He propped himself on the edge of the bed, debating whether to leave.

Everything he had wanted to confess had already been said.

He shifted, just about to get up—

When a hand suddenly pressed against his waist, fingertips tracing lightly, sending a subtle tremor through him.

“Now that it’s all over… what does this tonight mean? Was it… out of necessity?”

In the dim light, Yan Chuanbai’s face was shadowed, unreadable.

Qi He froze for a moment—and then understood.

He pulled Yan Chuanbai close, staring straight into his eyes. “I never do things out of necessity. Not before, not today—I only follow my own will to ‘play the plot.’”

There were clearly many other ways.

“The reason I do this…”

—Just like when he accepted the infection at the Source. It wasn’t simply following the flow; it was because he chose it.

Qi He’s ears flushed. “I want to do it this way.”

Yan Chuanbai’s expression suddenly softened.

Then, in an instant, he pressed down over him.

Eyes locking, one hand cupped Qi He’s face, his chest rising and falling—yes, no one could ever force Qi He.

“So all of this… it’s because you want it too.”

The fiery kisses, the hands on him, fell piece by piece. The receding waves surged back again, washing over him. Qi He turned his head slightly, cheeks warming. “Mm.”

He paused, thinking of something, then added, “But… that line, I still have to take back.”

The casual “do whatever you want”—it was too much.

“I know.” Vines coiled around them unconsciously. Yan Chuanbai leaned in, brushing a kiss against his ear. “From now on, in things like this… I’ll always follow your lead.”

“?” Qi He was genuinely surprised this time. “Really?”

Yan Chuanbai hovered over him, eyes blazing as he lifted his gaze. “Really.”

Suddenly, he slid downward. “If you say no, then no.” With that, he buried his head.

“!”

Qi He’s hand clenched tightly.

“Ha…” There was no way to say no. He tilted his head back, eyelashes trembling as he closed his eyes, letting him have his way.

—

It wasn’t until the next morning that Qi He woke.

When he opened his eyes, the sky outside was already bright.

It had been a long time since he had rested so comfortably.

He lingered a moment, noticing a strong arm still draped across his waist. Qi He lifted his hand, tugged the clothes lying on the floor toward him, and sat up to dress.

“Already up?”

The hand around his waist retracted abruptly.

Yan Chuanbai had woken, nestled at his side, voice low and husky. “Not going to sleep a bit longer?”

Qi He pointed out, “Colonel’s feeling lazy.”

A muffled chuckle came from below, followed by a question: “Yesterday… did you like it?”

Qi He paused, fingertips warming slightly. Yesterday, it had all been for himself—but it had felt good.

He said reservedly, “Keep it up.”

“Mm.” A kiss brushed his side. “I’ll practice more, until you’re satisfied.”

“…” Qi He paused in dressing, realizing what he’d just heard. He looked down sharply. “Don’t be cheeky.”

He finished getting ready and prepared to leave.

It was broad daylight; walking outside through empty streets wasn’t ideal. Qi He went straight out the main door and pressed the call button for the elevator.

The elevator descended, and with a ding! the doors opened.

Yu Jin was there, pushing Yu Jiang and the others inside, along with Xia Jiu.

Meeting so early in the morning left everyone momentarily stunned. Xia Jiu glanced at the floor number, then looked at him from the corner of his eye. Yu Jiang’s eyes widened; she blinked quietly before saying, “…Morning. I haven’t said ‘congratulations’ yet.”

Qi He paused for a second, then stepped inside. “Thank you.”

Once the conversation started, it flowed more smoothly. Yu Jiang tilted her head in greeting: “Looks like everything’s been resolved.”

“?” Qi He’s hand, which had been reaching for the elevator button, paused. He turned back. “Resolved? What’s been resolved?”

“Resolved,” Yu Jiang said again, relieved. “That’s good.”

Qi He stared at her for a few seconds, then pressed the elevator button. “Did you misunderstand something?”

“Misunderstand?” Yu Jiang nodded. “I know.”

Qi He drew in a quiet breath. What exactly did she think she knew?

Yu Jiang lowered her lashes, smiling with genuine warmth. “You two used to be like that, so I thought… something unforgivable had happened.”

“…Unforgivable?”

“So it’s not forgiveness—it’s letting go, then?”

Yu Jiang looked at him gently. “Well, after all, you’ve been through life and death together. What’s left that can’t be let go?”

Qi He stared at her in silence.

Ding! The elevator doors opened.

He withdrew his gaze, dropping the topic entirely, and said in farewell, “I’m heading back.”

Yu Jiang waved. “Then you won’t ever have to feel wronged again.”

The elevator doors closed with a clang.

Inside the suddenly quiet cabin, Xia Jiu was on the verge of a breakdown: What the hell were they even talking about!?

The elevator descended to the first floor. When the doors opened, she stepped out in a daze and muttered, “Do all your past spiritual-types go insane like this?”

Yu Jiang tilted her head. “Hm?”

Yu Jin: “……”

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