Facing Zhou Chang’s invitation, Jing Hong’s chest heaved violently as he said, “Alright.”

Zhou Chang gave him a deep look, turned, and led the way.

The sounds of music, chatter, and crashing waves drew closer once more as they returned to the dock. A fiery tune struck up, and the crowd grew lively again. Ladies twirled and spun, their red or yellow dresses fluttering in the sea breeze—so captivating to behold.

Yet Jing Hong and Zhou Chang didn’t tarry for a second, walking straight past the dance floor all the way to the pier.

The boat driver already recognized the two of them. With a quick greeting, they stepped onto the speedboat.

Space was tight inside the small craft, leaving the nearly six-foot-two Zhou Chang somewhat uncomfortable with his long legs. Jing Hong cast a quiet glance over at him.

The engine was far too loud once the boat started, so neither spoke a word. They simply watched the silhouette of the local driver against the dark night and gazed ahead toward their destination.

Cutting through the waves, the speedboat disturbed the calm waters along its wake, churning up sloshing white foam.

They finally reached the suite on the private island Zhou Chang had booked.

Zhou Chang unlocked the door, stepping aside to let Jing Hong enter first.

Zhou Chang then made a call, instructing the island’s service team to clear out, watching them personally until they had walked far into the distance.

Afterward, without bothering to turn on the lights, Zhou Chang spoke his first words since leaving the sand path: “I’ll go grab some wine. Nothing too fancy—is Screaming Eagle fine? This year’s vintage, rated exceptionally well. Happens to be from California, too.”

His brain still numb, Jing Hong asked, “What’s the rating?”

The hotel offered beverage services with plenty of options on the wine menu. Jing Hong hadn’t ordered anything, but Zhou Chang clearly had—he certainly knew how to enjoy himself.

Zhou Chang replied, “The menu says 99.”

“Then it’s excellent.” A 99 was a stellar score. Though the hundred-point scale was Napa Valley’s own rating system, the average score for even the top wineries over these years hovered around 90.

Zhou Chang went to fetch the wine, while Jing Hong walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and slid open the glass door. A gust of sea breeze rushed in; Jing Hong squinted slightly before sliding it shut again.

Quiet descended upon the room once more. Jing Hong heard the distinct pop as Zhou Chang uncorked the bottle, followed by the crisp sound of red wine pouring into a glass.

A few seconds later, Zhou Chang walked up behind Jing Hong, holding the glass. Jing Hong couldn’t see him, but he knew Zhou Chang was right there.

Jing Hong made to turn around and take the glass, but Zhou Chang wrapped an arm around his waist, checking the movement. Pressing Jing Hong against his own body, Zhou Chang brought the glass to his lips, tilting his hand slightly to feed him.

Jing Hong had no choice but to hold Zhou Chang’s wrist, sipping the delicious wine straight from Zhou Chang’s hand.

Yet Zhou Chang still didn’t hand over the glass, continuing instead. He was remarkably patient—one sip, then another.

Soon, however, Zhou Chang tilted the glass further and faster. Jing Hong wanted to call a halt, but the hand on his waist slid up along his buttons, stroking across his neck and throat before gently cupping Jing Hong’s chin, pouring the red wine in.

Before long, Jing Hong was gulping it down in large mouthfuls, which quickly turned into an overflow he could no longer swallow. Crimson liquid trickled from the corners of his lips, pooling at his collarbones before rolling past them and down his chest, soaking the white shirt across Jing Hong’s breast.

A startling expanse of deep rose red.

Having emptied the glass, Zhou Chang didn’t even bother walking back to the table to set it down. He pulled open the massive floor-to-ceiling window with one hand and hurled the glass straight into the pool outside, sending a loud splash across the water’s surface. Sliding the door shut again, Zhou Chang turned Jing Hong around, and the two fell into a passionate, wild kiss.

Zhou Chang’s shirt picked up wine stains from Jing Hong, yet neither man seemed to care in the slightest. Zhou Chang held Jing Hong’s waist and back while Jing Hong wrapped his arms around Zhou Chang’s neck and shoulders, one hand gripping tightly onto a few strands of dark hair at the nape of Zhou Chang’s neck. With no lights turned on, surrounded only by bright moonlight, cool breezes, and the night sea, they were utterly intoxicated with desire.

The heat rose in their minds, chaotic and churning like rolling magma, while surging waves of heat filled their chests.

After kissing for an unknown length of time, Zhou Chang stroked the back of Jing Hong’s head, caught a few locks of his hair, and gave a light tug.

Jing Hong arched his neck upward in response.

The tip of Zhou Chang’s nose traced the curve of Jing Hong’s neck downward, finally licking over his Adam’s apple, making Jing Hong’s entire body shudder faintly.

Then Zhou Chang tore open two buttons on Jing Hong’s shirt, kissing the side of his neck and down…

Feeling weak and powerless, Jing Hong pushed gently against Zhou Chang’s firm chest muscles with both hands.

Zhou Chang naturally felt it. He unbuttoned his own shirt directly, pulling it open to both sides. Holding Jing Hong with one arm, he took Jing Hong’s hands one by one and placed them against his own chest.

Jing Hong flinched slightly, but before he knew it, his hands rested weakly against Zhou Chang’s chest.

Moonlight reflected in Jing Hong’s eyes, a multi-colored shimmer.

Zhou Chang kissed Jing Hong’s lips once more. At the same time, he hitched up Jing Hong’s shirt—at first showing a sliver of restraint, but soon after…

Even the muscles in his throat seemed immobilized as the pace of their kissing grew increasingly feverish.

And then, before either realized how it happened, they were entangled together.

In a daze, Jing Hong caught the sound of a belt buckle unfastening.

The sensation felt both foreign and wild.

After an indeterminate time of friction and heat, Zhou Chang suddenly flipped Jing Hong over, tearing off another button from Jing Hong’s shirt, assisting him while…

Under the moonlight, Jing Hong’s fair shoulders looked as if dusted with a layer of silver powder.

Jing Hong’s hands pressed against the glass window. Because so much time had passed and the night sea breeze was cold, a sheet of mist had gathered on the outside of the glass due to the temperature difference, leaving behind the distinct print of a pair of hands with slender fingers.

The air grew hot to the point of feeling distorted.

In this shared rhythm, at last, the glass was smeared wet… as was the inside of Jing Hong’s thighs.

Jing Hong’s legs went soft, his hands sliding down the glass window and leaving a long streak behind.

Short of the final step, they had done everything else imaginable.

Zhou Chang still seemed unsated, but Jing Hong shook his head, saying, “No more… I can’t…”

Zhou Chang paused for a moment and said, “Alright. Go take a shower then?”

Jing Hong shook his head, his fingers groping aimlessly around the carpet until he caught his shirt. Using it to wipe his legs, he walked into one of the bedrooms with unsteady steps and collapsed onto the king-sized bed in the center.

He was thoroughly exhausted.

Zhou Chang picked up the clothes off the floor, followed Jing Hong in, and dropped them onto the floor near the bed’s window. Just as he attempted to get onto the bed as well, Jing Hong kept his eyes closed and said, “Go sleep in the other room.”

Zhou Chang looked at him in disbelief, asking, “…What?”

Jing Hong was still intoxicated, his tone carrying his usual habit of issuing commands: “Go use the guest bedroom. I’m not used to sleeping with someone else.”

Zhou Chang was so amused by Jing Hong’s audacity that he laughed, asking, “Throwing me out the moment you’re done being serviced?”

Once his mind settled down, Jing Hong felt a splitting headache and repeated, “Get out. I don’t want to say it a third time.”

“…Fine then,” Zhou Chang accepted his fate, saying, “You little ungrateful thing.”

Before leaving, however, Zhou Chang took a shower in the bathroom on Jing Hong’s side, wrapped a bath towel around his waist, and finally turned off the wall lamp for Jing Hong before closing the bedroom door.

After Zhou Chang left, a fine, clean sense of fatigue—smooth as velvet—drifted softly down from the ceiling, gently covering him at last as Jing Hong fell fast asleep.