Deviant: No Longer Human

"This isn't half bad…"

Liang Chen? Forgotten. Cast aside like a stray thread. Wang Jiarong didn't bother with farewells as she whisked Qian Ruixin back to her flat. Behind them, Wang Xiao followed at his own pace, as though the world moved to his rhythm, not the other way around.

The apartment was small, quiet, spotless—a reflection of someone who cherished control amidst chaos. Wang Xiao's eyes swept over it, a single sniff of the air satisfying his scrutiny. Lavender, faint and soothing. Tolerable.

He found food and busied himself in silence, to Jiarong's relief. No barbed remarks, no smirks—just the occasional sound of cutlery and the soft hum of contentment. Even he seemed to respect the floral stillness of her domain.

"Must you ruin my bed?" Jiarong's voice was calm, her words soft yet sharp. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed loosely, elegance in every motion.

Qian Ruixin looked up from where she was seated, her brow arching delicately. "Don't you have spare sheets?"

Silence. Jiarong's lips pressed into a line as she turned her head away. There was no point in bickering. Something had changed in Ruixin—an unshakable calm, like a mountain weathering a storm.

"How long do you plan to linger?" Jiarong finally asked, her chair creaking as she turned to face Wang Xiao. Her tone was light, almost conversational.

Wang Xiao leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, exuding casual dominance. "No plans. I'll leave when I feel like it."

Her sigh was soft, like wind brushing past leaves. "Did anyone else come with you?"

"No."

Her gaze shifted to Ruixin, searching for answers. "So… you came here for her?"

Wang Xiao's silence was answer enough.

Jiarong's heart tightened, suspicion clouding her thoughts. Her brother wasn't a man to chase after women. Weeks ago, she had been furious at him, blaming him for pulling Ruixin into this mess. But now… Was there more to the story?

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do to him?"

Ruixin blinked, startled, her voice barely a whisper. "What?"

"You heard me." Jiarong's tone sharpened, though her movements remained composed, her hands folded elegantly on her lap. "He doesn't care enough to cross a city, let alone the country, for a woman. So, what spell did you cast?"

Qian Ruixin's lips parted, a protest forming, but the faint blush creeping onto her cheeks betrayed her.

Jiarong caught it instantly, misunderstanding flashing across her face.

Ruixin turned her head slightly, her eyes dropping to the floor. Thoughts swirled, a quiet storm she refused to voice. A game? If only Jiarong knew the truth. Innocence and Wang Xiao didn't belong in the same story, let alone the same sentence.

Her brother didn't chase; he conquered. Straightforward. Merciless. How could she explain the man who skipped courtship entirely, dragging them into bed whether they liked it or not... yet somehow, here he was—for her.

Ruixin's fingers curled into her palms. Her silence said more than words ever could.

Jiarong spun her chair back to the desk, muttering something about her assignment. She peeked over her shoulder one last time, suspicion written all over her face, before sighing and burying herself in her work.

The problem wasn't the apartment—it was them.

They were chaos personified, an unpredictable mess that cluttered her mind more than the dust she'd swept that morning.

Ruixin stood, brushing invisible crumbs off her skirt, murmuring, "Water." She slipped into the kitchen, seeking refuge. A moment's peace, she thought. But when she came back with a glass in hand, there he was—sitting on her bed like a king on his throne, staring at her as if he owned her.

His eyes held hers, pinning her in place. Damn him.

"Rui," he said, his voice low, smooth, and infuriatingly confident.

She froze, her heart betraying her. "What now?"

"Come here."

Her fingers gripped the glass tighter. "Why?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to."

The room shrank. She hated how her heart quickened, how her body betrayed her calm façade. Slowly, she placed the glass down, each step hesitant, deliberate. She stopped just short of his reach.

"Happy?" she asked, her tone softer than she intended.

"No." Your journey continues with empire

Before she could react, his hand shot out, pulling her into his lap. Her gasp was soft, almost inaudible, but her body went rigid against his.

"Xiao Wang!" she hissed, her voice teetering between outrage and panic. "Your sister is—"

"Do I look like I care?" he interrupted, his lips already tracing her face, each kiss an unapologetic claim. His hand, warm and bold, slipped under her skirt, making her breath hitch.

"!!"

Her cheeks burned hotter than molten steel. She shut her eyes, biting her lip to hold back any sound that might betray her further.

Damn him again. He was too much, too shameless. And yet…

From the desk, Jiarong's pen stopped mid-sentence. She turned her head just slightly, catching them in the act. For a moment, she froze, her brain refusing to process the absolute filth before her eyes.

Her brother's tongue was practically down Ruixin's throat, his hand… well, she didn't want to think about where his hand was.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, disgust and irritation swirling in her chest. Couldn't they wait until they were not in her apartment? And did he have to be this aggressive with his own cousin?

She pinched the bridge of her nose, glaring at the mess she'd invited into her space.

This was why she preferred solitude—no horny maniacs ruining her peace.

Her chair creaked as she leaned back, pressing her palms to her temples. She couldn't even tell them to move to another room. That room was filthy, and the last thing she wanted was to hear them defiling her sheets.

But if they stayed here, she might lose what was left of her sanity.

Jiarong sighed heavily, muttering curses under her breath. Not only was she complicit in her brother's ridiculous act of "defiling" Ruixin, but she'd also dragged them here to protect Ruixin from her in-laws.

Now, she was the gatekeeper of this debauchery.

Her hand slammed the desk. "Finish whatever you're doing and get out of my sight!"

Ruixin froze, her lips swollen from his endless assault. Wang Xiao? He just smirked, his hand lingering far too long on her thigh.

"Can't promise that," he said, his tone tinged with amusement.

"Ugh..." Wang Jiarong groaned, reaching for her noise-canceling headphones. She wasn't going to survive this.

"Xiao… stop…" Ruixin whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling like a soft breeze. Her cheeks were already flushed, her gaze flitting between his bold hands and the oblivious figure seated at the desk.

"Stop? Why?" Wang Xiao's voice was a low purr, his hand slipping further under her top, fingers tracing the curve of her chest. "I haven't even started."

Ruixin bit her lip, her protest dying before it could form.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Rui, be honest. Hers—" His eyes darted to Jiarong, casually sitting at the desk, completely absorbed in her writing. "—bigger than yours, right?"

"!!"

Her face turned scarlet, her eyes widening in shock. "W-why are you asking that..?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

His thumb grazed her peak, drawing a soft, involuntary gasp from her. "Because I'm curious," he murmured, his tone too casual, too playful. "You've seen her, haven't you? Up close… all of her. Tell me, Rui, what's the verdict?"