President Bo remained outwardly impassive, his expression betraying no anomaly. It was as if the title Gu Qichi had just uttered—”husband”—was the most ordinary of words, failing to move him in the slightest.

Yet, Gu Qichi’s sharp eyes caught the truth: the hands previously clasped on the table had quietly lowered. Veins bulged along the fluid lines of his forearms, and tension was visible in the muscles of his neck as well.

He was struggling to suppress his breathing, yet he couldn’t entirely mask the subtle shift—his breaths had grown significantly heavier, and his gaze had deepened into an abyss.

Gu Qichi straightened up with breezy nonchalance. His slender spine traced a fluid line against his shirt, and a smile brewed in his peach-blossom eyes—shimmering and watery, rippling across his fair cheeks, utterly captivating.

The beauty was quite satisfied with what he saw. He then flipped through the agreement in his hands again.

[During the term of the agreement, the Bo Corporation shall be responsible for all of Mr. Gu Qichi’s living expenses, including food, clothing, housing, and transportation, and will provide a set monthly stipend for Mr. Gu Qichi.]

[During the term of the agreement, both parties must conduct themselves with integrity, avoid any scandals, and prevent any behavior detrimental to the marital relationship.]

These were all common clauses in such agreements, and every one of them favored him. There was nothing to worry about.

Gu Qichi leisurely turned to the final page, his gaze settling on the signature block. On the left, Bo Yu had already signed. The strokes were bold and powerful, like iron strokes and silver hooks—much like the man himself, exuding the cold authority of a superior.

The right side remained blank, clearly waiting for him to fill it. Gu Qichi lifted his eyelids, the tail of his eye sweeping in an arc to land lightly on Bo Yu’s well-defined, pale, and slender hands. He asked gently, “Do you have a pen?”

Bo Yu coughed lightly, retrieved a fountain pen from his breast pocket, and handed it over.

The jet-black body of the pen refracted a dazzling sheen under the light; it felt warm and smooth to the touch, undoubtedly expensive without needing to guess.

Gu Qichi took it deftly. His fingertips inadvertently grazed Bo Yu’s palm—a touch as light as a feather, yet it left a mark on his heart as heavy as a mountain.

Bo Yu’s entire body went rigid again, his mind instantly flooded with the image of the young man’s frivolous, flirtatious behavior from the night before…

If he let Gu Qichi continue to behave this wantonly, he definitely wouldn’t be able to hold back.

Bo Yu closed his eyes briefly. His mind was filled with Gu Qichi’s flushed face from that night. If they went back to the Bo residence, if he pressed him down by the back of his neck, letting him sink into the dark sheets…

The collision of absolute black and white creating a stark contrast.

A magnificence like the morning glow blooming upon snow-white skin, like a pristine white canvas splashed with drops of red watercolor.

And the instigator would feel no guilt whatsoever. Under the lights, Bo Yu would use his broad palm to carefully trace that red mole Gu Qichi had mentioned.

Until the other cried and begged for mercy, only then would he learn the consequences of provoking him.

…

Gu Qichi efficiently signed his name. Looking up, however, he saw that Bo Yu’s tie had been loosened slightly. His neck was long, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down. A bead of sweat silently slid along his jawline, over his throat, and landed precisely on that red mole he had teased last night.

It provoked an impulse to tear apart that facade of noble aloofness.

Gu Qichi quietly withdrew his gaze, his fingertips pushing the contract across to Bo Yu before propping his chin on his hand.

His hands were beautiful—pale, slender, and well-jointed—but much finer than Bo Yu’s fingers. Under the light, the wrist bone protruded, faint blue veins visible beneath the skin.

Gu Qichi spoke, “Bo Yu, I’ve signed it.”

His slightly cool voice broke the heavy atmosphere. Bo Yu snapped back to reality, only to hear the young man across from him continue:

“Gu Yuning being kicked out of the Xing Tianqing cast… was that your doing as well?”

Lin Shuangyi had said that Bo Yu represented the biggest investor. Coupled with the fact that he was the “Second Young Master” who could cover the sky with one hand according to Gu Chengtian, no one else but him could have accomplished this.

Seeing the other nod, confirming his suspicion, Gu Qichi began to grow curious about something else. He pursed his lips into a straight line and asked, “Have you met Gu Yuning before?”

If things followed the original novel, Bo Yu should have fallen for Gu Yuning upon seeing him, subsequently starting a “crazy obsessive” mode of forceful pursuit. It was just a pity that as the second male lead, Bo Yu was destined to lose to the main protagonist, Song Zhian. In the end, despite squandering his fortune, he never won Gu Yuning’s heart.

Gu Qichi was gambling. Gambling on Bo Yu, and gambling on himself.

He wanted to know if everyone would break the plot and move forward, dragging him along to an unknown ending, or if history would repeat itself, pushing him toward an immutable fate where he would die once more on that cold day of the first snow.

Hearing his question, Bo Yu frowned. His face suddenly turned colder, his eyes filled with unconcealed disgust.

“I have. Just a piece of trash.”

Getting the answer he wanted, Gu Qichi’s fingertips paused slightly, and his lips curved into an arc. “Don’t you think he’s beautiful?”

“No. He’s ugly, and he’s noisy.” Bo Yu answered almost without hesitation.

For the dirty, filthy tricks Gu Yuning had used against Gu Qichi, breaking two of his arms wouldn’t be excessive. The Gu family might want to sweep things under the rug, but he would not.

…

When Bo Yu learned that on the night they first met, Gu Qichi had been drugged with a strong aphrodisiac and a “lover” had been pre-arranged for him, the sound of something smashing was heard from the CEO’s office on the 22nd floor of the Bo Corporation for the first time.

An expensive luxury crystal glass lay shattered on the floor, the sharp edges of the fragments glinting coldly. If not for a shred of remaining reason, Gu Yuning would likely have been shot dead by him right then and there.

There was plenty of time; dying so easily would be letting him off too cheap. On the 22nd floor, Bo Yu toyed with a Swiss Army knife in his hand, his gaze cold.

He would help Gu Qichi reclaim everything Gu Yuning owed him, bit by bit. He would show no mercy.

…

“Bo Yu, as my marriage partner, your focus from now on can only be on me. I don’t wish to see you having excessive entanglements with others.” Gu Qichi paused, then continued, “As for Gu Yuning, I hate him, and the rest of the Gu family is no exception. I hope you feel the same. I will deal with scum like Gu Yuning personally; you don’t need to waste your energy on him.”

As Gu Qichi’s gaze swept over him leisurely, Bo Yu undid another button and hummed a soft “Mhm.”

The lights were bright and piercing. Gu Qichi nonchalantly tossed out one last question.

“Then, am I beautiful?”

Thinking of Gu Yuning having to swallow his pride in the Gu household gave him an indescribable sense of satisfaction. Gu Qichi was in a good mood, his eyes and brows relaxing into an expression of ease and comfort.

Bo Yu nodded, his gaze direct and blazing, staring fixedly at him. “Beautiful. You are the most beautiful.”

The beauty held a glass of red wine in his hand. The crimson liquid clung to the transparent glass, casting dappled, pale red shadows onto his porcelain-white face. It looked as if he had applied a layer of drunken blush, illusory and mesmerizing.

“If I’m beautiful, then I’m yours from now on.”

“Exclusively yours.”