It was 8:30 PM. After wrapping up his final video conference of the evening with a partner, Jing Hong checked his watch and knew it was time to head out. His appointment with Zhou Chang was set for nine o’clock.

Since he was going over to Zhou Chang’s place tonight, Jing Hong didn’t bother having his driver wait, planning instead to drive himself over.

Closing his laptop, Jing Hong stood up and tidied his desk. Finally, he picked up his keys and phone, illuminating the screen as he walked, only to find a text message from Zhou Chang that had just arrived: 【I’m downstairs at the Fanhai building right now. In the Phantom.】

“…” Jing Hong’s fingers tapped across the screen, 【How come you drove over here?】

Zhou Chang replied: 【The address on the GPS wasn’t right. Hard to find.】

The corners of Jing Hong’s lips curled up as he sent a voice message directly: “Then shouldn’t we go have a chat with Peng Zheng? What kind of map is this, failing to even point the way to our young Mr. Zhou’s house? How can this be tolerated?”

Peng Zheng was the CEO of Xingyuan, one of the Big Four; currently, the largest online map in China belonged to Xingyuan.

Seeing that Jing Hong was finally free, Zhou Chang also replied with a voice message. Jing Hong tapped to play it, and Zhou Chang’s characteristically casual, deep voice immediately flowed out: “Hurry it up a bit, my young Mr. Jing, before I get a parking ticket.”

Jing Hong pressed the “Record” button again: “You didn’t even give me a heads-up beforehand; otherwise, you could have driven into the parking garage.”

“Wouldn’t dare.” When off duty, Zhou Chang often carried a touch of rogue charm, “At a time like this, waiting for President Jing in the parking garage—I’m afraid President Jing might get gossiped about.”

As Jing Hong stepped into the elevator, he asked, “What kind of gossip?”

“Betraying the organization, selling out the revolution.” Zhou Chang added, “Conducting illicit affairs, flirting, colluding, and acting hand in glove with Zhou Chang.”

For some reason, Jing Hong felt that the string of idioms—“conducting illicit affairs, flirting, colluding, and acting hand in glove”—sounded distinctively imbued with an erotic undertone when spoken by Zhou Chang, especially the last bit.

Yet Jing Hong actually let out a light laugh, employing a somewhat inappropriate idiom as he said, “What? Don’t tell me the people at Fanhai are going to demand that I execute my own kin for the sake of justice?”

“Sure, execute me then.” Zhou Chang added, “If I get to be your kin for even a day, being executed is worth it.”

While they were talking, Jing Hong walked out of Fanhai’s headquarters and indeed spotted Zhou Chang’s Rolls-Royce parked by the side of the main road.

Jing Hong pulled at the door handle, but it didn’t budge. Zhou Chang unlocked the doors, and Jing Hong stepped into the passenger seat.

Jing Hong said, “Let’s go, time for drinks.” He mimicked Zhou Chang’s tone, “Hurry up and move; if we don’t go now, we’re gonna get a parking ticket.”

Zhou Chang chuckled, released the handbrake, turned on the indicator, glanced in the rear-view mirror, and smoothly turned the steering wheel with one hand, letting the car gently merge into the flow of traffic.

The way Zhou Chang drove was typical of his usual demeanor, looking intensely focused. Due to his posture, his suit trousers pulled taut against his thighs, revealing firm muscle.

Jing Hong was actually feeling remarkably calm today. He had worked calmly, stepped out calmly, and gotten into the car calmly, experiencing little in the way of emotional volatility.

Upon arriving at Zhou Chang’s place, Jing Hong checked the house number, searched for it on the map app, and said, “Well, we really wronged Peng Zheng; the map is totally fine.”

Zhou Chang threw him a smile-filled glance: “President Jing is so hard to fool. I’ll have to restrain myself a bit in the future.”

Zhou Chang’s residence was a standalone villa.

The house wasn’t particularly large—it wasn’t too far from Qinghui. Jing Hong knew that Zhou Chang undoubtedly owned a larger estate up in the mountains.

Although Zhou Chang’s house wasn’t huge, it was very new.

Inside the villa’s front door was an open-air courtyard with a planted tree, a design currently popular in Europe and America. Functioning like a lightwell, stepping in from the left and right led to the living room and sitting room respectively; further inside, there seemed to be a gym, a library, a home theater, a wine cellar, and the like. On the second floor, a 360-degree gallery wrapped around that tree, covered by a dome that could be pulled closed; deeper down the hallway were the master bedroom, office, and other primary functional rooms.

Stepping inside, Jing Hong casually slipped off his leather shoes and walked forward.

After taking a couple of steps without seeing Zhou Chang, Jing Hong turned his head, just in time to see Zhou Chang bending down.

Zhou Chang then unhurriedly hooked Jing Hong’s leather shoes with two fingers and placed them onto the shoe rack.

Zhou Chang raised his eyes, seeing Jing Hong watching him, and said, “Young Mr. Jing, shoes ought to be put away properly.”

Jing Hong looked back at him, half-smiling.

The two walked into the small dining room, where a few prepared desserts, like puddings, were set out on the dining table. Zhou Chang raised his chin and said, “I had the kitchen prepare these this afternoon. Told them to make something sweet before they left.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and Zhou Chang added, “I’m guessing young Mr. Jing likes sweet things? That bottle of Noble Rot sweet white from last time was truly sweet.”

“Yes.” Jing Hong admitted generously, “Didn’t care for it before, but I’ve grown fond of it over the past few years.”

“Makes sense,” Zhou Chang said. “Sweet things really are good.”

Jing Hong took off his suit jacket, though he kept his tie on, and asked Zhou Chang, “Where can I wash my hands first?”

Without speaking, Zhou Chang led Jing Hong to a restroom on one side. Jing Hong turned on the faucet, thoroughly rinsed his hands under the warm water, then shut it off. Seeing a box of cotton hand towels set on the vanity, he pulled one out and wiped the palms and backs of his hands.

Watching Jing Hong’s hands already wiped dry, Zhou Chang opened his mouth: “Give it to me.”

“…?” Jing Hong didn’t quite understand, but he still extended his left hand, palm facing upward, placing it in front of Zhou Chang.

Zhou Chang was amused by this and extended his right hand as well, lightly tickling the center of Jing Hong’s palm with two fingertips as he said, “I meant give me the cotton towel. I’m going to throw it away.”

“…” Jing Hong handed the cotton towel over, a lingering, soft itch still floating across his palm.

Zhou Chang took it and tossed it into the trash bin to the side.

After that, the two began to eat the desserts. Since Jing Hong hadn’t untied his tie, Zhou Chang likewise only took off his suit jacket without loosening his tie completely, merely tugging it slightly loose.

Zhou Chang pulled out a bottle of red wine; Jing Hong took one look and saw that it was indeed a top-tier vintage. Jing Hong wasn’t an alcoholic, but he certainly knew his wine.

Zhou Chang first set the wine to decant and chill while the two of them worked on the puddings first.

As they ate and chatted, the atmosphere was relaxed. Jing Hong felt that this sensation of sitting together to talk about the industry, their companies, themselves, or even little-known joys and sorrows was truly wonderful.

Jing Hong shared a story casually: “Fanhai recruited a VP a while back. This person’s confidentiality agreement with his previous employer was ridiculously funny. He was allowed to take the job, but he wasn’t allowed to speak, write, or type—in short, you could listen, but you couldn’t speak. So this guy genuinely acted as an auditing student at Fanhai Group for half a year, attending every single meeting without uttering a single word. So many people actually thought he’d had his vocal cords removed.”

Zhou Chang gave a subtle laugh: “That really is pretty funny.”

Afterward, the two drifted to talking about another company’s affairs.

“Have you heard?” Zhou Chang said, “Just yesterday morning, the CEO of XX company sent an email to the entire firm, firing all the senior executives including the CFO and CTO. Then, twenty minutes later, another email went out to all staff stating that they had obtained authorization from the Board of Directors, that the previous email was null and void, that the CFO, CTO, and other executives would remain in their original positions, but the CEO was fired.”

“I know.” Jing Hong let out a soft laugh, “General Manager Jiang already gossiped about it. There was even a third email this morning, making it clear that the Board intended to dismiss the CEO, citing reasons like disrupting normal company operations, impacting the firm’s international IPO, ignoring the hard work of the employees, and destroying overall staff unity—a whole mountain of evidence.”

Zhou Chang said, “Is that so? I actually didn’t know about the existence of this third email.”

Jing Hong chuckled softly: “You’re out of touch. You’re falling behind on eating the freshest gossip.”

Hearing this, Zhou Chang immediately looked up at him: “Then I’ll have to rely heavily on President Jing in the future to keep me from falling too far behind. My sources on this side are indeed limited—just overhearing a few things during the executive board meetings.”

Jing Hong said, “Then shouldn’t there be a fee? We’ll charge according to the price of forwarding these scoops to newspaper reporters.”

Zhou Chang then asked, “Is there a friendly discount? No, wait, a family discount? President Jing just said it himself—‘executing his own kin for justice.’”

“A 0.1% discount?”

Zhou Chang sighed: “President Jing’s heart remains as ruthless as ever.”

Their eyes entangled for a lingering moment before Jing Hong lowered his eyelids and continued eating his pudding.

By the time they finished the pudding, the wine had finished decanting.

Zhou Chang fetched two glass goblets. Accompanied by a crisp sound, the red wine poured into each of the two glasses.

Zhou Chang handed one of the glasses to Jing Hong, keeping the other for himself.

Jing Hong swirled the wine in his glass, letting the mellow fragrance drift out.

Holding his wine glass, Zhou Chang extended it slightly forward and said, “Let’s toast. To celebrate Fanhai’s stock price hitting an all-time high.”

Jing Hong also held his glass, teasing once more: “Let me confirm first: is President Zhou being sincere here, or insincere? You’re not feeling sour on the inside, are you?”

“What is there to feel sour about?” Zhou Chang said, “Qinghui’s financial report is about to come out as well. If you buy some right now, you can make a fortune.”

“Fine then.” Jing Hong’s glass clinked softly and crisply against Zhou Chang’s, “Then congratulations to Qinghui in advance as well.”

“Mm.” Zhou Chang tilted his neck back, finishing that glass of red wine in a few gulps, then set the glass down on the table, staring unblinkingly at Jing Hong.

Jing Hong turned his head, facing Zhou Chang sideways, and also finished his glass of wine, his Adam’s apple rising and falling a few times against his neck.

After that, the two didn’t toast anymore, instead slowly savoring the entire bottle of red wine. The sweet yet astringent flavor bloomed on the tip of the tongue, rich and full-bodied.

The aroma of the wine spread through the room.

The two chatted for a bit about Fanhai’s Q1 financial report.

“Speaking of gaming,” Jing Hong shared something from Fanhai’s past, “Back then, around ’02, Fanhai Group actually went through a severe financial crisis. At the time, an American game company reached out to Old Mr. Jing through an intermediary, hoping to enter the Chinese market. Fanhai didn’t do gaming back then. Old Mr. Jing was somewhat tempted, but after asking around, he found out that the other party had actually approached every single gaming company, yet no one was interested. Why? Because that game had terrible online player counts in Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. Old Mr. Jing was extremely hesitant, so he asked me, Jing Yu, and a few of my friends to play it. As it turned out, we loved playing it. Old Mr. Jing then realized that users in Japan and South Korea didn’t like playing it because the controls and mechanics were extremely simple and boring—but in reality, people in China hadn’t had much exposure to online games at that time, so it fit their needs perfectly. Thus, Old Mr. Jing made the executive decision to acquire the agency rights for the game. During that period, to promote the game, my mom—General Manager Jiang—took a few distributors and personally canvassed every internet cafe, big and small, across all of China to persuade them to sell top-up cards. From that moment on, Fanhai established its gaming business.”

Zhou Chang looked at Jing Hong: “So there was a past like that. It was thanks to you, then.”

Jing Hong smiled and shook his head: “It was actually pretty treacherous.”

Zhou Chang agreed: “It was.”

Half an hour later, when they finished drinking, Jing Hong asked Zhou Chang, “Can I take a tour of President Zhou’s house?”

“For what?” Zhou Chang asked, “You won’t find any trade secrets here.”

“As if I care about your trade secrets?” Jing Hong replied, “Just curious. Getting to know my competitor.”

“Sure,” Zhou Chang led Jing Hong upstairs, teasing as he watched Jing Hong wander around, “As expected of President Jing. Getting to know your competitor all the way into his bedroom.”

Zhou Chang’s bedroom was massive. The suite spanning over a hundred square meters housed a sitting room, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a washroom. The exterior wall of the bathroom was made of glass, with a curtain hanging lightly down, and there was a balcony outside.

The bedding was clean and tidy—a single pillow, a single duvet, both in pure black.

Jing Hong mocked him again: “President Zhou’s bed… is an Alaskan King Size, right? Seems to be 2.75 meters by 2.75 meters? That’s meant for a couple plus a child plus a pet to sleep together, or even two kids. Yet President Zhou sleeps in it all by himself. A regular King Size isn’t enough?”

“Preparing in advance,” Zhou Chang said. “Maybe two men will be sleeping in it in the future. And one of them might turn out to be quite a thrashing sleeper.”

Jing Hong cast a side-glance at him.

“Besides,” Zhou Chang added, “Has President Jing heard that CCTV brand advertisement? ‘As big as your heart is, that’s how grand the stage will be.’ It doesn’t have much to do with actual reality.”

Jing Hong smiled and retorted: “So what was President Zhou thinking about that required such a grand stage?”

“You asked this yourself,” Zhou Chang stared at the side of Jing Hong’s face. “And I don’t want to tell that kind of lie.”

Jing Hong: “…”

Regretting it a bit.

Sure enough, Zhou Chang said, “I’ve been thinking all the way to the final step—the two of us kissing while coming for each other at the same time.”

Zhou Chang saw Jing Hong standing rooted to the spot and gave him a gentle push: “Look if you want to look. Why stand so far away? The bed won’t bite.”

Jing Hong said: “Hard to say. What if Qinghui has some black tech installed, using technology for sinister purposes?”

“Rest assured, President Jing,” Zhou Chang added, “This bed knows who you are.”

“…?” Jing Hong didn’t catch on for a second.

“Blame this mouth of mine,” Zhou Chang said, “A few times, your name spilled right out of it.”

Even though he had indeed been the one to ask, Jing Hong instantly felt a surge of heat across his whole body. He turned around and walked over to the other side of the bedroom, inspecting the decorative ornaments on the cabinet to cover up his embarrassment.

As he looked, Jing Hong suddenly spotted something.

A candlestick. Likely bought by Zhou Chang’s housekeeper as part of the decor.

The design of the candlestick was extremely simple, shaped like a graceful young girl. Crafted entirely from dark metal, her head was a sphere; one hand rested on her hip while the other held a tray—the tray being the main body of the candlestick. One of the girl’s legs stood straight while the other curved outward at an angle. Though her limbs were made of thin metal, they exuded a graceful posture.

There was no candle on the girl’s tray, but rather… a cufflink casually tossed inside.

An indigo stone, encircled by a ring of tiny accent diamonds.

It lay quietly inside the tray of this candlestick in Zhou Chang’s bedroom.

Jing Hong was somewhat surprised, though he kept his composure. He picked up the cufflink with one hand, gazing at it as memories surfaced, and said, “President Zhou… the big CEO of Qinghui Group, moonlight as a petty thief now?”

Zhou Chang walked over in a few strides. Without answering, he seized Jing Hong’s hand in a firm grip, staring at him.

Their gazes locked. Zhou Chang’s eyes narrowed at Jing Hong, his powerful hand tightly clasping Jing Hong’s fingertips. With a squeeze and a gentle rub, the cufflink in Jing Hong’s hand fell back down with a soft clack. Zhou Chang said, “I picked it up. Once something falls into my hands, it’s very hard to get it spat back out.”

Jing Hong turned his body around, raising his head slightly as he looked at Zhou Chang.

Because of this cufflink, a sudden, lingering surge of heat bloomed unexpectedly across Jing Hong’s chest. Unknowingly, Jing Hong’s gaze grew thick and heavy, carrying an undeniable tenderness as he looked at Zhou Chang.

Something was on the verge of erupting.

Zhou Chang had always possessed an overwhelming air of dominance and pressure. Meeting Jing Hong’s eyes, he spoke again, asking, “Jing Hong, I’ll ask you one more time now: do you want to be together?”

Jing Hong didn’t speak.

Zhou Chang added, “I’m being very serious. I usually only ask a question once. This question is the sole exception. But I’m not sure if there will be a next time.”

Jing Hong continued to look at Zhou Chang.

Over this past stretch of time, Jing Hong had actually become fairly confident in his ability to handle complex relationships. Fanhai and Qinghui needed competition; if competition were lost, Fanhai would simultaneously lose its drive to excel. He had been striving all along, wanting to try managing an immensely complex relationship, wanting to complete the most difficult challenge to date—and now, he was already standing right here.

Furthermore, unexpectedly, during events like the “anti-short selling” affair, he had harvested much more beyond mere “competition.”

The secret had been buried in his heart all along, sipped in small gulps, extraordinarily delicious.

He wanted the empire, but he also wanted the romance.

Suddenly, Jing Hong reached out and pulled the tie around Zhou Chang’s neck, dragging Zhou Chang right to his lips.

Then, his other hand cupped the back of Zhou Chang’s head, and he began to suck on the other man’s lips.

Zhou Chang wrapped his arms around Jing Hong’s back, responding passionately.

The kiss quickly spun out of control.

They savored each other’s taste to their hearts’ content.

Their tongues intertwined and teased relentlessly, without a moment’s pause.

Then, the point of contact between their mouths grew wider and wider, the friction turning increasingly fierce. They wildly exchanged breaths, holding each other tightly, exploring each other’s mouths over and over, as if trying to melt the other directly into their blood and bones.

Jing Hong’s mucous membranes were scraped and caressed, the sensation of being possessed reaching straight to the bottom of his heart.

His hard palate, his soft palate, inside and out—swept clean through and through.

Reluctant to spare even a second to breathe, his brain felt a hazy, dizzying sensation from the lack of oxygen.

At a certain moment in between, while rubbing against and sucking on Jing Hong’s lips, Zhou Chang murmured, “Just now… I lied to you again, darling. The truth is, for you, I could ask a thousand times.”

Jing Hong didn’t answer, absorbed entirely in the intertwining of their tongues, the friction, the drinking in of one another.

In truth, he still hadn’t been fooled.

Yet he was willing to say “yes.”

The thing that had been painfully suppressed for so long finally exploded.

In the end, Zhou Chang kissed Jing Hong’s neck, deeply inhaling his scent as he spoke, “Jing Hong, after all this time, I’ve missed you so damn much.”