WAF CH60

Four days later, Zhou Chang returned to Beijing from Guangzhou.

This business trip had lasted a total of five days—a considerably long time for him.

After landing, Zhou Chang went straight to Qinghui Headquarters first, listening to dozens of reports, signing dozens of documents, and approving dozens of work initiatives. By the time he arrived home, it was already extremely late.

Yet, his heart was fluttering with anticipation.

This kind of longing was something he had never experienced in his past thirty-plus years of life.

Jing Hong was still in the middle of a video conference, and surprisingly, he hadn’t fully shut the door, leaving it open a crack.

Zhou Chang immediately intended to back away, but the meeting was evidently trivial; after noticing Zhou Chang, Jing Hong glanced over softly, then extended his left hand, pointing his index finger straight down at the floor directly beneath it—meaning “Stay right there, don’t move.”

And so, Zhou Chang waited quietly.

Jing Hong was dressed in a white dress shirt and wearing a Bluetooth earpiece, leaning forward slightly with one arm resting on the desk. The people on the other side of the call were likely babbling too much, as Jing Hong was already showing signs of impatience. He tapped his fingers erratically on the desk a few times before finally interrupting them: “Get to the point.”

The person on the other end was likely startled into silence. After a long pause, they managed to squeeze out: “Uh, the main point is…”

Zhou Chang let out a quiet smile.

This darling of his was always so fierce, yet so breathtakingly handsome.

As it turned out, the video call wasn’t even about work, but rather an insurance policy for when Jing Hong traveled abroad.

A few minutes later, Jing Hong finally wrapped up the call. He stood up, walked out of the room, and upon seeing Zhou Chang in the hallway, asked with his usual calm demeanor: “You’re back? How did it go—everything smooth?”

“I’m back. Everything went smoothly, though the specific details are confidential.” Seeing Jing Hong walk over, Zhou Chang raised his hand and plucked the Bluetooth earpiece from Jing Hong’s right ear, chuckling lightly: “Also, you forgot to take off your Bluetooth earpiece, my dear President Jing.”

Jing Hong knew the unspoken subtext of that sentence was actually “You were in too much of a rush to come over here.” Yet he didn’t get annoyed. Reaching up, he took the earpiece back from Zhou Chang’s fingertips, unavoidably brushing against the other man’s skin in the process. Then—since the suit trousers Zhou Chang wore today happened to have two back pockets—as Jing Hong’s hand descended, he gently slipped the earpiece into the pocket over Zhou Chang’s hip. Once his hand was empty, he cupped the back of Zhou Chang’s neck with one hand, held the back of his head with the other, and leaned in to kiss him.

Naturally, Zhou Chang lost control soon enough. Holding Jing Hong around his waist and back, the two shared a gentle kiss at first—tender and full of affection—before it spiraled once more into a passionate, feverish kiss.

The surrounding temperature rose steadily.

When the kiss finally ended, Zhou Chang said, “Come over here for a second.”

Jing Hong: “…?”

Zhou Chang led Jing Hong over to the master bedroom on one side of the second floor, picking up a few exquisitely packaged boxes resting on top of a cabinet: “I had Assistant Qin buy these this morning. From a few viral online dessert shops—supposedly innovative sweets.”

Jing Hong was genuinely amused by this gift. Taking the boxes and setting them aside, he said: “I do like sweet things, but this is a bit much. Makes me look like a child. Besides, I go to Guangzhou several times a year myself.”

“So what?” Zhou Chang dismissed it carelessly. “Just eat them. If you went by yourself, you wouldn’t bother buying them anyway.”

Looking at the exceptionally delicate pastries inside the box, Jing Hong asked, “You carried these back all the way?”

“It was nothing, really.” Zhou Chang truly didn’t mind. Unsing the tie around his neck, he said casually, “Flew back to Beijing on a private jet. Assistant Qin carried them all the way to the company and put them in the fridge. I just brought them back from there—it was hardly a few steps of walking.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Jing Hong glanced at the boxes. “Though, let’s skip them for tonight, okay? I’ll eat them tomorrow morning. I’m still pretty full right now, so I wouldn’t really taste the flavor properly anyway.”

Zhou Chang made a “be my guest” gesture.

Zhou Chang then asked Jing Hong, “Have you eaten dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jing Hong said. “At the Fanhai cafeteria. What about you?”

Zhou Chang replied: “Qinghui cafeteria.”

“Speaking of which,” Jing Hong raised his eyes, giving Zhou Chang a teasing look, “I heard President Zhou delayed Qinghui’s dinner time? Pushed it back by forty-five minutes? It used to be served at 6:30, but now it’s 7:15. So if Qinghui employees want to snag a free meal, they have to work until 7:15? By the time they finish eating, it’s already 8:00, and since taxi rides are expensable after 9:00, they end up grinding until 9:00 anyway? Is President Zhou telling employees not to work 996 on one hand, while tempting them into 996 every day on the other?”

Zhou Chang let out a subtle laugh: “Nobody forced them. But if they’re willing to work until 9:00 PM every day for the perks, I have no objections either.”

Jing Hong shook his head, clicking his tongue softly: “Heartless capitalist.”

Yet, despite his words, Jing Hong knew that Zhou Chang had actually introduced many new policies aimed at dismantling the “996” culture. More often than not, “996” wasn’t caused by an overwhelming amount of real work within a team, but rather by abysmal management efficiency—such as other departments constantly barging into projects, everyone offering new opinions and changing directions every time, or leaders demanding subordinates build out two nearly identical proposals just so they could compare the two…

“That wasn’t very nice.” Zhou Chang walked to the side and squatted down in front of the suitcase on the floor, his thick-knuckled right hand popping open the latches with a quick motion as he said offhandedly, “Good thing you agreed that day. I was actually wondering before: if Jing Hong asked me to carve out this heart of mine, what would I do? Good thing I didn’t, or a black heart would’ve tumbled right out.”

Listening to his nonsense, Jing Hong leaned against the adjacent cabinet, looking down at him with a half-smile in his eyes, the line at his waist and hips subtly elegant.

Having not seen each other for days, Jing Hong quietly watched him for a while before finally straightening his posture, leaving the cabinet, and picking up the bag of desserts to head downstairs, saying, “I’ll put these in the fridge first.”

Saying so, he raised the bag to inspect it again: “How many shops are these from in total?”

“Four shops,” Zhou Chang replied without looking up. “Bought the ones with the best reviews online.”

“Assistant Qin has it rough,” Jing Hong remarked. “Running to four different places first thing in the morning.”

“What about me, then?” Hearing Jing Hong’s comment, Zhou Chang asked. Still squatted on the floor, he had begun organizing his personal luggage. “By the time I got back to the hotel last night, it was already three in the morning, and I had to get up early today anyway. Instead of sleeping, I stayed up holding my laptop, researching Guangzhou’s dessert shops and their popular pastries.”

“…” Jing Hong gave him a deep look. After a long pause, he said “Thanks” once more, paused, and added: “I really like them.”

Zhou Chang raised his eyes to meet Jing Hong’s gaze, their eyes interlocking for several seconds before Jing Hong turned and walked toward the door carrying the desserts.

The refrigerator in Zhou Chang’s house was enormous—a walk-in model. Then again, the one at Jing Hong’s place was just the same.

By the time Jing Hong returned to the bedroom, the suitcase on the floor was nearly completely emptied.

Seeing Jing Hong return, Zhou Chang finished packing away the last few items before finally taking out one last object from the case and handing it to Jing Hong, saying, “Right, there’s also this.”

“…?” Looking at the small tube, Jing Hong frowned slightly, taking it with a thoroughly puzzled expression, only to realize it was a tube of lip stain.

He asked: “This is…?”

Zhou Chang smiled and said, “Passed by a duty-free shop after arriving at the airport at noon today, and happened to spot this one—the display shelf was right across from the main entrance.”

Guangzhou Baiyun Airport was different from Beijing Capital Airport in that it lacked a dedicated executive terminal; everyone had to pass through the main terminal building.

Hearing Zhou Chang say this, Jing Hong couldn’t help but examine the tube of lip stain in his hand once more, asking with hesitation: “This is…?”

Zhou Chang said, “The one you applied in the hallway back at Fanhai’s AI Developer Conference last year.”

Jing Hong asked: “What do you mean ‘the one I applied’?”

“Worded it wrong.” Zhou Chang apologized exceptionally fast. “The one that was applied on you—the one wiped clean with the tip of my tie.”

Jing Hong casually toyed with the lip stain, twisting it open to check the shade before twisting it back shut: “Since when do you understand lipstick shades?” Zhou Chang had definitely seen Jing Yu’s lip stain that day and likely remembered its outer appearance, but what about the color?

“It should be this exact one,” Zhou Chang said. “There’s a shade number on the tube.”

On that day, certain feelings had quietly begun to sprout.

Looking at the lip stain, Jing Hong let out a soft, amused scoff.

Zhou Chang walked over, took the lip stain from Jing Hong’s hand, twisted it open slightly, and handed it right back to Jing Hong, his voice growing husky as he spoke: “Could you wear this while…?”

Jing Hong lifted his eyelids.

A moment later, a thin smile touched his lips as he said, “Doesn’t matter. Fine. Apply it just like that day?”

It was nothing.

Zhou Chang was taken aback for a second, not expecting Jing Hong to agree so readily, before finally nodding: “Yeah.”

And so, Jing Hong walked into the bathroom, took a shower, and came out without switching into a bathrobe. Instead, he dressed back into the exact shirt, suit trousers, and tie from earlier, changing only his underwear—a style strikingly similar to that day.

He then glanced into the mirror, drawing a stroke across his lips relying on memory.

Upon returning to the bedroom, Jing Hong discovered that Zhou Chang had already changed into a bathrobe. That was the beauty of a villa: the two of them didn’t need to squeeze into a single bathroom.

Jing Hong stepped up to Zhou Chang, lifting his face slightly while sticking out just a tip of his tongue.

Knowing that Jing Hong didn’t want to smudge the lip stain color, Zhou Chang extended his own tongue, sweeping over the tip of Jing Hong’s tongue before gently entwining with it for a few lingering, affectionate moments.

Afterward, Jing Hong dropped down to a half-kneel.

Nearly half an hour later, Jing Hong finally raised his eyes.

Zhou Chang lifted his chin, cupping his face. Zhou Chang’s hands were large; holding Jing Hong’s cheek, his palm covered more than half of his face, reaching all the way behind his ear.

Looking at Jing Hong, Zhou Chang held his face with one hand while using the thumb of that same hand to smooth the color across Jing Hong’s lips following their outline—first the upper lip, then the lower lip, spreading from one corner to the other.

The bright red lip stain was smudged out slightly, turning from vivid red into a soft flush, overlaid with a thin, glossy sheen that shimmered under the light.

Jing Hong stood up and said to Zhou Chang, “My turn. You don’t need to wear lip stain.”

Staring at Jing Hong, Zhou Chang gave a subtle smile. Pinching the hem of his bathrobe with one hand, he half-knelt down and adjusted the robe. Shadows and light flickered beneath the hem—the exact sight Jing Hong had seen the very first time he dreamed of Zhou Chang.

In the end, those sharp, aloof eyes of Zhou Chang’s were aloof no longer.

Afterward, Jing Hong wiped his mouth with a cotton pad, while Zhou Chang went to wash his face.

When he returned, Zhou Chang pulled up a designer lounge chair across from Jing Hong and sat down, keeping his eyes locked on Jing Hong as Jing Hong began to slowly unbutton his white shirt.

This was the second-floor lounge area. The lounge chair had been crafted by an artist as a piece of art—uniquely shaped, elegant, and aristocratic, positioned with its back to the courtyard tree, perfectly complementing Zhou Chang’s aura.

Jing Hong’s eyes carried an alluring hook, while Zhou Chang watched Jing Hong’s every movement without blinking.

Jing Hong shed his shirt and tossed it onto the floor in front of him. Then, looking at Zhou Chang, he flicked one bare foot, sending the shirt flying straight into Zhou Chang’s lap.

Clasping the shirt while staring intently at Jing Hong’s upper body—fair-skinned yet lined with firm muscle—Zhou Chang bunched the shirt into a ball, raised it to his nose, and took a breath.

Next, Jing Hong began to unbuckle his belt.

Once his trousers hit the floor, Jing Hong used the same hooked kick, flicking the pants into Zhou Chang’s lap as well.

Still staring at Jing Hong, Zhou Chang reached out, picked up one trouser leg, raised it to his nose, and took a breath of the suit fabric.

Then came the final piece. Done the exact same way.

This time, as Zhou Chang inhaled, his breath grew long, heavy, and deep.

Finally unable to take it anymore, Zhou Chang untied his own bathrobe, stepped forward in a few strides, and pulled the man he loved into his arms.

They didn’t even make it to the master bedroom; right there on the rug in the lounge area, the two lost all restraint. Right next to them was the inner courtyard, housing that very tree.

Surrendering entirely to pure instinct.

After finishing twice, Zhou Chang stood up first.

Before leaving, he suddenly looked down at Jing Hong and said, “By the way, baby, I just remembered: this rug is exceptionally expensive, top-tier quality, and completely irreplaceable.”

Jing Hong felt baffled: “…?”

“This rug is fantastic, but it can’t handle water—the moment it gets wet, it’s ruined. Hold it in for a bit and don’t stand up yet. I’ll go get some paper towels and be right back.”

“…”

After Zhou Chang left, despite feeling deeply suspicious, Jing Hong still did his best to hold back.

And so, when Zhou Chang returned, this was the scene that greeted him: Jing Hong lay across the plush, long-pile rug, his skin fair and pristine. He had his knees bent, arms extended, and hands clasped over himself, completely blocking the path to “soiling” anything, his fingers slender and long. His neck was arched uncomfortably, his pale toes digging unconsciously into the rug beneath him. The long pile of the rug tickled the skin across his entire body, the contours beneath his back faintly emerging and vanishing amidst the fibers.

Zhou Chang’s mind exploded with a deafening boom. Stepping to the edge of the rug, he grabbed Jing Hong by the ankle and pulled hard. Caught entirely off guard, Jing Hong’s whole body relaxed in an instant, rendering all his efforts completely useless—the rug was ruined after all.

Jing Hong sat halfway up and asked Zhou Chang, “Didn’t you say…?”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He realized he had been tricked again.

Kissing him, Zhou Chang murmured between breaths: “How are you so adorable…”

Jing Hong froze for a second, but instead of flying into a rage, he immediately threw himself into the kiss with Zhou Chang.

This time, Zhou Chang seemed exceptionally wild, remaining abnormally aroused throughout.

A long time passed before the real world slowly surfaced once more.

Zhou Chang looked as though he wanted another round, but Jing Hong pushed him away, stepped onto the floor, and said, “Enough.”

He even felt a wave of embarrassment.

What on earth—

“That’s enough already? It’s only been three times.” Zhou Chang laughed behind him: “I’m still full of energy.”

This time, however, Jing Hong merely gave him a cold glance and said, “You can go find a few meetings to hold.”