The warmth on Jiang Shi’s face froze in an instant.

Huo Ji was a striking sight—medium-length, slightly wavy hair; pale skin; lips unnaturally red; and a pair of languid, soulful peach-blossom eyes that looked tender at anyone so long as he wasn’t being a lunatic. Everything about him—his lazy grace, his flirtatious air—clashed with a small county town and drew frequent glances from passersby.

Seemingly oblivious to those looks, he walked through the crowd and stopped before Jiang Shi.

Huo Ji tilted his head. The obsidian in his right ear glinted soundlessly. “Jiang Shi, I told you we’d be seeing each other soon. See? I didn’t lie.”

Cheng Ye hooked a hand over Jiang Shi’s shoulder, stepped forward to block him, and fixed his dark eyes on Huo Ji. “Who are you?”

Their gazes met in midair. Huo Ji snorted, then shifted his eyes away as if dismissing a weed. “Your hired lackey? Since when do people like this deserve to walk behind you?”

“Huo Ji.” Jiang Shi’s eyes went cold. “If you keep your mouth shut, no one will mistake you for mute.”

Huo Ji didn’t get angry. He only smiled. “Long time no see. Let me buy you dinner. I booked the most expensive restaurant around and ordered all your favorites.”

Jiang Shi stepped out from behind Cheng Ye and shoved Huo Ji hard. “Go back to Jiangcheng. I’m going home. I don’t have time for you.”

Watching him leave without a backward glance, Huo Ji’s thumb flicked his lighter over and over.

Click—

Click—

One meter, two meters…

By three meters, the smile had drained from Huo Ji’s face. His expression turned dark as he stared at the broad back of Cheng Ye shielding the boy’s thin frame.

“Song Shi,” he called, “Song Jian’an’s been put in solitary.”

Jiang Shi stopped, then turned.

Seeing those eyes on him, Huo Ji’s lips curled again. “The shipment the Song family’s exporting is supplied by the Huo family. It’s almost delivery time. Song Jian’an hit me. Tell me—if the goods suddenly stop, what happens to Song Jian’an?”

Jiang Shi’s brows drew together slowly. “You’re threatening me?”

The sky was heavy, on the verge of rain. Huo Ji wore only a thin shirt; a gust revealed a sliver of pale, thin chest, while his lips stayed red as blood.

“Little darling Jiang Shi, you know this—aside from you, why should anyone else’s life or death matter to me? As long as you have dinner with me, whether Song Jian’an lives or dies—who cares.”

Jiang Shi looked at him. “Just dinner?”

Huo Ji’s mouth curved into a slow smile. “Of course.”

The wind picked up. There were few people at the school gate. Distant green was sprouting on the hills, and Qingming’s damp, sticky rain was in the air.

Cheng Ye had been silent, until Jiang Shi took a step toward Huo Ji.

He reached out and caught Jiang Shi by the wrist. His pupils were so dark they smothered every trace of emotion.

“I’m going with you.”

Jiang Shi reflexively wanted to refuse.

Cheng Ye spoke. “Jiang Shi, I’m going with you.”

His tone was mild, but left no room for argument.

Jiang Shi didn’t really want to be alone with a madman like Huo Ji anyway. He squeezed Cheng Ye’s hand back, then looked at Huo Ji. “I’ll go with you—but he’s coming.”

Only then did Huo Ji truly look at Cheng Ye. “Who are you?”

Cheng Ye met his eyes, calm. “Cheng Ye. Jiang Shi’s friend.”

“Friend?” Huo Ji ran his gaze up and down Cheng Ye and showed an inscrutable smile. “That’s a funny word.”

He pocketed the lighter. “Come, if you like. I welcome every ‘friend’ around Jiang Shi.”

The private room was booked at the most bustling spot near Jiang Shi’s school, on the top floor. Beside the table, a huge floor-to-ceiling window reflected the neon below in flawless glass.

Even backward Lincheng had a hint of glitter now.

A lavish crystal chandelier hung above; beneath their feet, the polished tiles were clean enough to mirror faces. A young server with understated makeup led them in.

Even with both boys in the same school uniform, Cheng Ye’s burst seams and yellowed, over-scrubbed sneakers betrayed a teenager’s embarrassment.

Huo Ji lit a cigarette across from Jiang Shi.

Born with a golden spoon, he’d always stood above others—often needing few words for people to “read between the lines.”

The only person Huo Ji had ever accommodated was Jiang Shi—but even that accommodation carried the hauteur of a noble head held high.

He sat there smoking, and when he saw the boy’s disgusted frown, he leaned back with a smile. “Haven’t seen that face in a while. I almost missed it.”

The smile lasted only seconds before the cigarette was plucked from his mouth.

Cheng Ye stubbed it out and tossed it into the trash.

Huo Ji froze, then his chest heaved. “How dare you—”

There was very little Cheng Ye didn’t dare. With his brows lowered, he stared at Huo Ji. “He doesn’t like it. Either put it out or go smoke outside.”

Jiang Shi laughed. “Huo Ji, this isn’t Jiangcheng. No one’s lining up to be your lapdog.”

Huo Ji’s face darkened immediately. He clenched his fists to rise, but as soon as he moved, a big hand pressed his shoulder down into the chair.

The strength in that hand was so great his bones felt close to shattering. He looked up into a pair of fathomless black eyes.

Huo Ji’s breath caught, and only then did he remember to struggle. “Let go. Do you know who I am?”

“I do.” Cheng Ye’s grip did not ease. “You’re Huo Ji. I remember you.”

“…”

Huo Ji almost coughed blood from the pressure. “You know and still dare treat me like this?!”

The only reply was the sound of bone grinding in his shoulder.

Furious, Huo Ji turned his head and shouted, “Song Shi!”

Only then did Jiang Shi lazily say, “That’s enough, Cheng Ye. What if you break him?”

Cheng Ye released him and, like a tamed dog, stood obediently at Jiang Shi’s side, no trace of the ruthless force from a moment before.

Rubbing his shoulder, Huo Ji’s face was stormy. “You come to Lincheng and meet… this kind of riffraff?”

Jiang Shi’s mood soured at once. “What do you mean, ‘riffraff’? I’d say that’s you. Huo Ji, don’t try your Jiangcheng tricks on me. I’m not Song Shi. The Song family has nothing to do with me. And this is the last time I’m eating with you. Don’t come looking for me again.”

“Jiang Shi…” Huo Ji covered his mouth and coughed softly twice. The cough grew louder, his body bent, ragged and tearing.

“Jiang Shi, you think changing places, changing identities means you can shake me off? I’m telling you—you can’t! One day, you’ll come begging me. What I want—I’ve never failed to get. You’ll beg me. You’ll—”

Splash—

A cup of tea came down straight onto his face.

Cheng Ye set the cup down and stood over him, looking down from above.

Huo Ji came back to himself and met Cheng Ye’s gaze.

He saw a look in those eyes—a look he’d seen many times.

Since childhood, it had often encircled Jiang Shi. Later, it had appeared in his own eyes.

Huo Ji caught the scent of his own kind.

“You…”

He braced a hand on the chair to stand, but Cheng Ye didn’t give him the chance.

Not yet eighteen, the boy was tall, with broad shoulders and back completely blocking Huo Ji. Facing him, Cheng Ye’s eyes gleamed with a cold, beastlike light.

He bent closer, voice low, meant for only the two of them.

“He won’t beg you.

Whatever he wants, I’ll give him.

Love, money, honor… if he wants it, I’ll give it to him.

He won’t remember who you are. He’s above everyone—no one will make him bow.

Not me—and certainly not you.”

Cheng Ye straightened and let go.

“Oh, and remember—my name is Cheng Ye.”