“Can I go to work now?”

“Switch to this one.” Lin Congzhi scrutinized him, handing over another dark-grey horizontally striped scarf.

Xiao Jingwen took it, removed the one around his neck, and put on the one he was handed. Standing in the walk-in closet, Lin Congzhi squinted his eyes slightly. Squinting to observe a picture is a habit of every art student—sometimes art studios are cramped without enough space to step back, so squinting helps to blur the vision.

Lin Congzhi pressed his fist against his lips and said, “Turn around.”

Xiao Jingwen obediently turned around in a circle. The time was 9:15 AM. It took him twenty minutes to drive from home to the company, so even if he left immediately, he would still be late.

However, Lin Congzhi felt he should loosen up a bit. This man was already a CEO, yet he stayed tense every single day, striving to be at work right on the dot; sooner or later, a string would snap.

He took a few steps forward, reached out to untie Xiao Jingwen’s necktie, and re-tied a handsome Windsor knot. Then he stared at his shirt for a moment, seemingly a bit dissatisfied with its collar.

Xiao Jingwen was getting a little anxious: “Teacher Lin…”

“Hush.” Lin Congzhi signaled for him to be quiet.

Next, Lin Congzhi held one end of the scarf, wrapped it around his neck once, and tidied it up. To be honest, from driving out of his garage at home to entering the company’s garage, Xiao Jingwen wouldn’t be hit by even a draft of cold air the entire way. This scarf was thoroughly unnecessary.

However, it looked good and matched very well with the single-breasted Chesterfield coat Lin Congzhi had picked out today.

Finally, Lin Congzhi raised his hand and tweaked his wax-styled hair slightly, letting the curve of his bangs sit just below the midpoint between his eyebrows and eyes without covering them.

Satisfied, he smiled and said, “Alright, you can go to work now.”

Yucheng was a city with ‘distinct seasons.’ Autumn had arrived briefly for a short spell before temperatures plummeted drastically—and without any snow. The citizens dubbed it a “rogue-style cold snap.”

As for the reason Lin Congzhi developed the urge to style Xiao Jingwen’s outfits, it all started when the temperatures first dropped. One morning, when getting out of bed, Xiao Jingwen had fetched one of his own sweaters for him because he looked at Lin Congzhi’s so-called ‘winter clothes’ and felt that wearing those thin pieces to survive the winter was a total joke.

So he found a thick sweater of his own and asked him to put it on first, intending to take him out to buy heavy winter clothes later.

It was that light tan turtleneck sweater that sparked a flash of magical inspiration in Lin Congzhi. He immediately told Xiao Jingwen to put it on, then found a long silver necklace of his own to pair with it.

He really loved Xiao Jingwen’s body proportions. A suit could indeed perfectly showcase his physique, but a sweater in such a gentle color… Consequently, after Xiao Jingwen arrived at the office that day, he received many bewildered looks that seemed to say, “Wait, is that really my boss?”

Of course, everyone exercised restraint and refrained from showing too much shock. Still, Xiao Jingwen could clearly sense it—Damn, the boss feels totally different today.

This winter, as long as it was a relatively light workday, Lin Congzhi would dress Xiao Jingwen up before he left the house. Occasionally, Lin Congzhi would hit a roadblock over details like which tie or belt to choose, refusing to let him leave until he was satisfied. Whenever that happened, Xiao Jingwen served as his life-sized, fully articulated dress-up doll.

Since the initial cold snap, everyone up and down the ranks at Gleam had grown accustomed to CEO Xiao’s sudden, peacocking-like wardrobe transformations. At the same time, everyone held a tacit understanding: combined with the wedding ring on the CEO’s hand, his lover was undoubtedly playing ‘Miracle Xiao’ at home—after all, with a body and face like that, not dressing him up would be a genuine waste.

Lin Congzhi was at the Yucheng Art Museum today. Ever since he gained a bit of fame, the art museum had been inviting him over every now and then to help select exhibits. During this visit, the staff there subtly probed again to see if he had any interest in working there. Lin Congzhi merely smiled and vaguely fended them off, saying he didn’t know the first thing about running a museum.

He spent an entire afternoon at the museum and only took a liking to a single painting. The museum had collected a fair number of works, but collection didn’t guarantee exhibition. Sometimes, when the museum’s own directors and senior staff developed stale aesthetics from looking at the same things over and over, they would invite outsiders to make the selection.

Lin Congzhi picked a watercolor painting with the artist’s signature covered up. It depicted a park bench, upon which two dogs were curled up asleep.

Toward evening, several museum staff members escorted him out to the roadside, still trying to invite him to dinner even as they reached the curb. Lin Congzhi had mentioned earlier that someone was coming to pick him up, but they assumed it was just an excuse—they hadn’t expected someone to actually be waiting when they got to the street.

Xiao Jingwen stepped out of the car, walked around to open the passenger door for him, and nodded slightly to the museum staff. Surprised for a moment, they nodded back.

“Isn’t this a bit excessive?” Lin Congzhi asked as he slid into the passenger seat. By ‘excessive,’ he meant opening the door for him.

“If I really wanted to be excessive, I’d have opened the back door for you,” Xiao Jingwen said, pulling his seatbelt down and glancing back at the museum. “Are they really short-staffed lately?”

Lin Congzhi shook his head: “If I’m not mistaken, they were probably hinting at me to become a consultant. Not interested.”

Xiao Jingwen gave an “mm,” stepped on the gas, and drove off.

Neither of them cared much for the crowd at the art museum. An establishment that was supposed to curate art properly had brought in several new waves of leadership over recent years, turning the place into a complete mess.

Inside the villa, both the heating and warm air ventilation were running, keeping the house cozy and warm.

Lin Congzhi stepped into his slippers; the inside of the plush cotton slippers felt warm and cozy. He took off his scarf, and before he could raise his hand to hang it on the rack, Xiao Jingwen took it first and hung it up for him.

“Right,” Lin Congzhi asked him, “are you still acquiring paintings from the art museum for next year’s spring auction?”

“We stopped acquiring from them this year. The pieces they offered were too low in quality; some were worse than art examinee drafts.” Xiao Jingwen walked into the kitchen and checked the steamer, where the dinner prepared by the hourly cook was being kept warm.

Lin Congzhi added, “The professors at the academy have their own networks. They only recommend their own students’ works. Sigh… these days, as long as it gets into a display case, anything goes.”

After saying this, Lin Congzhi intentionally popped his head out to see his reaction.

Over on the other side, Xiao Jingwen voiced a brief “mm” in agreement while looking at the steamed fish inside. Then he pulled out his phone to check the WeChat message sent by the hourly cook. The cook had mentioned that for a steamed fish like this, the last spoonful of hot oil needed to be poured over it right before eating; no amount of keeping it warm could preserve its proper texture.

So when Lin Congzhi popped his head into the kitchen, he saw the CEO splashing two rounds of hot oil with a swift movement. The sizzling sound instantly released the fragrant aroma of scallions and fish skin… He swallowed and said, “Wow. I’m hungry.”

That’s how people are—they only feel hungry once they catch a whiff of cooking aromas.

Xiao Jingwen chuckled: “Yeah, it’s not just art students. It’s the same with music and dance. People pay top dollar to take masterclasses. Those renowned masters might not necessarily know how to teach, but taking their classes places you under their lineage. When it comes to graduate school applications or competitions, the judges all know full well whose student you are.”

With that, he carried the fish to the dining table, turning back to see Lin Congzhi still standing dazed at the kitchen doorway: “Didn’t you say you were hungry? Go wash your hands and eat.”

“Ah.” Lin Congzhi snapped back to reality. “I just… didn’t expect you to care about things like this.”

“Some auction pieces have to be acquired out of social obligations. You take in the works of a master’s students first, so that it’s easier to acquire the master’s own works later on.” The sweater Xiao Jingwen was wearing had a somewhat fitted cut. It was a piece from his college days; compared to back then, his frame and musculature had grown broader, so he asked, “Can I take this off? It feels a bit tight.”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Lin Congzhi blinked. “Why didn’t you mention it felt uncomfortable when you put it on?”

“…Because you looked very satisfied this morning.”

How could he not be satisfied? A garment like a sweater, which easily looked bulky on most people, managed to outline his waistline and chest perfectly—Lin Congzhi had indeed been very satisfied. He smiled softly: “Take it off then.”

Reaching one hand behind his shoulder, Xiao Jingwen grabbed the fabric at his back, pulled it forward over his head, and removed the sweater with one hand, leaving only a black racerback tank top underneath. Lin Congzhi watched him quietly the entire time, his expression shifting remarkably.

As a fellow male, Lin Congzhi belonged to the more slender build, with a relatively small frame. Thus, he felt a deep sense of envy—and fondness—for a perfectly built, muscular physique like Xiao Jingwen’s.

It was very warm inside the house, so Xiao Jingwen sat opposite him for dinner wearing just the tank top. This meal left Lin Congzhi thoroughly distracted. The black tank top did nothing to block his line of sight; on the contrary, it made the Apollo’s belt on Xiao Jingwen’s abdomen appear even more defined.

So the moment he finished eating, Lin Congzhi put down his chopsticks, grabbed Xiao Jingwen’s wrist, and led him upstairs—his steps so resolute that Xiao Jingwen nearly burst out laughing.

In the bedroom, Lin Congzhi sat astride his lap. Lin Congzhi was never one to feel shy or embarrassed when it came to these matters; if there was pleasure to be enjoyed, he enjoyed it fully.

Halfway through, Xiao Jingwen pulled him down into a close embrace, then like a magician, pulled out a sapphire necklace from out of nowhere.

“A Kashmir sapphire from before the mine was depleted.” Xiao Jingwen helped him put it on, fastened the clasp, and looked into his eyes: “Come, lie down.”

The necklace became the only thing on Lin Congzhi’s body, resting and sliding against the skin of his chest. The sapphire was cool to the touch and carried a satisfying weight. Then—

Xiao Jingwen leaned down, gripping both the necklace and his neck together in one hand. Lin Congzhi’s throat instantly constricted; the unfamiliar sensation caused his pupils to tremble slightly. His lips parted as if to say something, only to be kissed silent.

The next day, Xiao Jingwen didn’t go to work.

Lin Congzhi had always preferred winter. Lin Lingyu had wanted to move away from Yucheng long ago, enduring it for so many years only for the sake of Lin Congzhi’s schooling. For no other reason than the fact that in Yucheng, cockroaches could fly, and you could even hear them landing. Therefore, both he and his mother preferred the insect-free winter.

Winter was quiet. Because it was so cold, sleeping in felt completely justified.

Xiao Jingwen had always maintained a regular routine, but when Lin Congzhi opened his eyes, it was already past ten-thirty. Xiao Jingwen was wrapping an arm around him while using his other hand to read emails on his phone.

Sensing that he was awake, Xiao Jingwen turned his head and lowered his gaze to look at him. Neither of them spoke, their eyes locking silently. Then Lin Congzhi smiled, his eyes curving into crescents, and reached up to nuzzle against the side of Xiao Jingwen’s neck.

After replying to one final email, Xiao Jingwen set his phone on the nightstand, turned over, and embraced him inside the warm duvet.