The very next day, Jing Hong bought a house right in Zhou Chang’s residential compound—money was the last thing he lacked, and he could buy whatever he pleased. Doing this was merely to throw people off the scent; after all, Jing Hong was driven home by Fanhai’s chauffeur every day. Jing Hong didn’t want others to know about their secret relationship, and Zhou Chang felt the exact same way.

This kind of relationship was simply too dangerous.

The CEOs of two rival giant companies acting like “foolish, love-stricken mortals lost in worldly desires”—it was far too dangerous. A single slip-up, and their CEO seats would be gone. The Board of Directors on either side would likely find it impossible to accept.

Yet miraculously, to the two of them, the more dangerous something was, the more captivating it seemed to become.

A relationship that was brilliant, dangerous, wild, and lawless.

While the two lived together at Zhou Chang’s house, Jing Hong begrudgingly memorized the door lock passcode—the door could be opened with either fingerprints or a passcode. Zhou Chang had changed the passcode to the date they officially got together, saying, “Except for you and me, no one knows this date, and no one can crack this code.”

“No one knows”—what a magical phrase.

Their study rooms were separate, using two different Wi-Fi networks with two sets of passwords, each managing their own. Passwords for their laptops went without saying. Before entering the other’s study, they would always knock first and ask for permission. The study doors were also thick and heavy enough to be completely soundproof.

This wasn’t out of a lack of trust in each other; it was more out of a lack of trust in themselves.

What if they accidentally caught sight of something they shouldn’t?

Every single day, they would… and with immense urgency.

The greater the pressure, the stronger the desire; the two of them were always at it, using these physical encounters to relieve their stress.

Even during the daytime at the office, there were moments when Jing Hong would suddenly think of the intense session awaiting him that night. A wave of inexplicable excitement would wash over him, instantly sweeping away any occasional fatigue from work, making him want to wrap up his tasks faster so he could return earlier and start sooner.

Jing Hong had always possessed formidable self-control—this was the single thing in his life he had ever grown addicted to. Fortunately, his rationality remained intact, and his work was never neglected.

Zhou Chang’s body closely resembled a male statue in a museum; now, Jing Hong could finally have his way with it as he pleased. Sometimes, as Jing Hong stared at him, Zhou Chang would laugh and tease that he was “looking as serious as if reading a business report.”

It was always unpredictable who would arrive home first, and just as unpredictable how each night would begin.

On one occasion, after Fanhai won a round against Qinghui, Zhou Chang arrived home to find Jing Hong taking a shower in the bathroom. Feeling a sudden dry tightness in his throat, Zhou Chang strode to the bathroom door, stripping off his clothes as he walked. He tossed his suit jacket outside with one hand and pulled open the shower door with the other. Before even finding the time to untie his tie or unbutton his shirt, he took a few steps straight under the showerhead. Turning the showering Jing Hong around, he lifted his chin, pressed him against his chest, and kissed him directly.

Zhou Chang’s white shirt was soaked through in an instant.

Warm drops of water fell onto Jing Hong’s face, sliding down cold against his skin, yet unable to slip into his mouth because their tightly pressed lips were sealed completely without a single gap. Thus, the water bypassed their lips, meandering down from both sides as if intentionally avoiding that sacred spot.

Right there inside the narrow shower stall, before Zhou Chang had even taken off his clothes, the pattern of the floor mat was already pressed into Jing Hong’s knees.

Afterward, Jing Hong was lifted up again, his back rising and falling against one of the shower walls. In the end, he stood on one foot, stepping into the water; but the water was mixed with other fluids, making him fear slipping if he stood there alone, requiring Zhou Chang to hold him close.

In the end, because Jing Hong habitually tried to hold back his voice—feeling it would otherwise be beneath his dignity—Zhou Chang had no choice but to let Jing Hong bite down firmly on the tie around his own neck. Zhou Chang was still wearing that tie, but its tail was clamped between Jing Hong’s teeth. The tie had long been soaked through, its tip dripping water drop by drop.

On another occasion, when Qinghui won against Fanhai, it so happened that Jing Hong arrived home while Zhou Chang was taking a shower. This time, Jing Hong didn’t even bother removing his suit. Clad in that form-fitting, pitch-black suit, he pulled open the bathroom door, stepped straight into the cascading water, pulled Zhou Chang’s neck down, and kissed him deeply.

The suit jacket was eventually shed later, but the shirt remained on the entire time, drenched through and through.

So were his trousers. Because they were too wet, Zhou Chang couldn’t peel them down in one go; thus, even with them pulled down only a fraction, Zhou Chang was already too impatient to wait.

Having attended an event that day, Jing Hong wasn’t wearing a tie, but rather a bolo tie. Below his Adam’s apple sat a perfectly round, diamond-encrusted purple gemstone. Frustrated that his back was being scratched painfully, Zhou Chang wrapped the cord of the bolo tie loop by loop around both of Jing Hong’s wrists—Jing Hong was still wearing his shirt, and his usually crisp, high-end cuffs were bound together by several turns of the cord. Leaning against the sliding door of the bathroom, the gemstone between Jing Hong’s wrists struck the glass door again and again in rapid, frantic succession, making sharp thump-thump sounds.

Jing Hong didn’t know what was going through Zhou Chang’s mind, but as for himself, the busier the other person was, the more fiercely he felt compelled to snatch moments like a hungry wolf straight out of the other’s packed schedule. Because such moments were rare and fleeting, they became incomparably precious, yielding an even richer, more intense pleasure when enjoyed.

Moreover, after suffering a defeat in the business arena, they seemed especially eager to do this. They wanted nothing more than to watch the other lose control because of them—losing their composure, losing their calm, losing their wisdom, losing their rationality, and losing every single trait they wore during the daytime.

After spending about two weeks like this, during one session where Jing Hong lay across the large executive desk—with one of Zhou Chang’s hands cushioning the back of his head, another hand holding his shoulder, and his back pressed against the impeccably smooth surface of the desk—he clearly had something he wanted to say.

Sensing it, Zhou Chang paused and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Zhou Chang,” Jing Hong asked, barely holding himself together, “I actually want to know… why do you want to do this every single day? Don’t you seem a bit… overly keen?”

Zhou Chang froze for a moment, his dark eyes deep and intense. Locking his gaze onto Jing Hong, his voice raspy as he spoke, “I like sinking into corruption with you.”

Jing Hong looked at Zhou Chang, and Zhou Chang added, “In all these years, it’s rare for me to fall into corruption. But even if I do, I’m dragging you down with me.”

“…” Jing Hong understood what Zhou Chang meant.

They were rivals, arch-nemeses, two commanders, two blade-wielders—always calm, always rational. Yet no one knew that behind closed doors, in these deserted nights, the two of them were losing control together, falling into corruption together, and going mad together, time after time.

Two weeks after getting together, Zhou Chang went on his first business trip.

To Guangzhou.

That morning, the flowers cultivated at Zhou Chang’s house bloomed.

The flowers, naturally, had been bought and tended to at the villa by the housekeeper, Auntie Lin.

They were red Lewisia flowers.

Auntie Lin was exceptionally skilled at gardening, and the several Lewisia plants had been nurtured to look utterly stunning.

Jing Hong had never met Auntie Lin. Although Auntie Lin might not necessarily recognize Jing Hong, neither of them wanted to gamble; Auntie Lin would leave Zhou Chang’s house by six o’clock every evening without fail.

Jing Hong knew that Auntie Lin could definitely tell Zhou Chang had a cohabitant, one who preferred to keep out of sight. Yet Auntie Lin had never asked who it was; she likely understood that given Zhou Chang’s stature, his dating partners or cohabitants were all strictly confidential matters.

Seeing the flowers in bloom, Jing Hong stood by the window to admire them for a moment. Reaching out his fingers, he snapped off a stem, handed it to Zhou Chang, and said, “Decorate your office with it.”

“…Hm?” Zhou Chang looked at Jing Hong.

Jing Hong didn’t offer a direct answer. After searching carefully for a while, he snapped off another stem and said, “I’m taking this one.”

Zhou Chang gave him a deep look, then pulled him in for a kiss.

Before setting off, Jing Hong called his new assistant and instructed him to purchase a glass vase and place it on the executive desk in the General Manager’s office at Fanhai. Naturally, the assistant carried out the order immediately.

Afterward, Jing Hong went downstairs and got into his car at the main gate of the residential compound. Unwilling to toss the flower casually onto the seat beside him, he set aside his work for the ride, gently holding the stem with both hands while gazing out the window, all the way to Fanhai Group.

Upon entering the building, Jing Hong walked into his office carrying the flower via the executive elevator, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other held the red Lewisia. The blossom hung by his leg, swaying gently back and forth with the cadence of his stride.

A vase was already set upon his desk—slightly tapered at the rim, very elegant. The assistant had thoughtfully filled it with fresh water.

Jing Hong walked over and inserted the flower into the vase.

A cluster of four blossoms rested on the stem at varying heights, looking stunning and understatedly exquisite.

No one knew that the flower on the desk of Fanhai’s President and the flower on the desk of Qinghui’s President were of the exact same species, originating from the very same stem, planted in the same pot, nourished by the same watering can, and bathed under the exact same sunlight.

That evening, the two had a video call.

Zhou Chang was in Guangzhou, while Jing Hong remained in Beijing.

When the video connected, Jing Hong had just finished taking a shower and put on his bathrobe. After drying his hair, he didn’t bother changing out of the robe, leaving the collar slightly open to reveal a hint of skin. Due to his seated posture, the bathrobe draped loosely over his frame, offering a subtle glimpse of fair yet by no means fragile skin underneath.

Seeing him on the video screen, Zhou Chang clearly froze for a moment before asking, “Showering at this hour already?”

“Yeah,” Jing Hong said. “Didn’t have many meetings tonight.”

Zhou Chang nodded, making idle chat: “XX actually signed with Fanhai.”

It was a spoken English APP that collaborated and signed contracts with primary and secondary school teachers across the United States, currently boasting a massive active user base. Since American teachers earned relatively low salaries, they were more than willing to make extra money through such platforms.

Jing Hong asked, “Why the ‘actually’?”

Zhou Chang let out a faint chuckle of light mockery: “The day before she signed with Fanhai, she was still saying she wanted to go with Qinghui, trying to get Qinghui to raise the offer.”

Jing Hong: “…”

After a brief pause, Jing Hong said, “She said today as well that Qinghui was pushing very hard, setting today as the absolute deadline. She agreed to Qinghui’s timeline, proposed a contract clause that was bound to be rejected, dragged her feet a bit longer, hoping Fanhai would yield a little more ground. In the end, we agreed.”

Zhou Chang was equally speechlessly amused: “…”

“And do you know what?” Jing Hong gave another light laugh, “I ran into Peng Zheng tonight. That girl was still in talks with Xingyuan, too. She only formally turned them down this afternoon.”

The two fell silent for a moment, both finding it incredible—a young girl who had only graduated two or three years ago was playing hopscotch back and forth among the Big Four, showing zero intimidation when facing the likes of Jing Hong, Zhou Chang, and Peng Zheng, and ultimately succeeding in securing the maximum benefit for herself.

“Young people these days are truly something,” Zhou Chang remarked. “Every step forward will require extra caution in the future; otherwise, it’s easy to capsize the boat.”

Jing Hong said, “Indeed. We have to be careful.”

The new generation was charging forward with fierce momentum, and the iteration of internet products was taking place at such a rapid pace. No one knew when people across China—and the world—would suddenly adopt a brand-new product, rendering old ones obsolete overnight. One trend after another, one hot commodity after another that had once seemed destined for eternal use, had all ended up in the trash bin of history.

Once again, they shared the exact same realization.

These shared experiences and mutual realizations were things they could never discuss with anyone else.

After a while, Zhou Chang asked again, “Unmanned shelves are all the rage right now, but Fanhai doesn’t seem to have invested in them at all?”

“Didn’t Qinghui refrain from investing as well?” Jing Hong adjusted the camera angle slightly. “I don’t hold a favorable view of this trend, and I imagine you feel the same way. Unmanned shelves inside office buildings? How do you solve the supply chain problem? Who delivers the goods every day, and who restocks them every day? I don’t believe the profit from a single shelf can cover the transportation and labor costs. In my eyes, this trend is a fake hotspot.”

Zhou Chang gave a subtle laugh: “Same here.”

Once again, their thoughts aligned completely.

Having finished discussing the industry, they moved on to personal chatter between the two of them.

“Young Mr. Zhou,” Jing Hong suddenly asked out of curiosity, “I’ve always wanted to know: is that legend about Old Mr. Zhou’s household really true or false? You know, the one where ‘the napkins are folded into swan shapes, the chopsticks are laid out in a specific pattern, the British-style butler must support the platter with four fingers under the base without his thumb touching the plate, and wine glasses must be steamed with water vapor to ensure not a single water stain remains after wiping’?”

Hearing this, Zhou Chang let out a low chuckle: “Next time I go back to Old Mr. Zhou’s place, I’ll take you along so you can see it with your own eyes.”

Jing Hong smiled as well: “Sure. I’ll be waiting then.”

Finally, as the hour grew late, Zhou Chang asked Jing Hong, “Shall we end the video call here for tonight?”

“Alright.” Jing Hong nodded. Raising his right hand to his lips, he gently kissed the pads of his index and middle fingers. Then, extending his arm while looking at the man on the screen, he pressed the two fingertips he had just kissed directly onto the camera lens before lifting them away.

Instantly, the camera lens was stamped with the prints of Jing Hong’s two fingers.

Zhou Chang, who had just returned from an event and was still wearing a black shirt with a silver-gray tie, felt his throat roll at the sight of Jing Hong’s gesture.

After hanging up the video call, Jing Hong walked back to the bedroom, pulled back the duvet, and sat at the head of the bed, burying himself back into Zhou Chang’s spacious mattress.

Truth be told, after two weeks, Jing Hong now felt that the size of this bed was just right for two people; sleeping in it alone felt inevitably hollow and vast.

He picked up his phone and sent Zhou Chang another message: 【Alright, after several hours on a plane, plus negotiations and contract signing, you must be exhausted. Get some rest.】

Surprisingly, Zhou Chang didn’t reply right away.

Setting his phone aside, Jing Hong assumed Zhou Chang had gone to take a shower and didn’t pay it much mind.

Some forty minutes later, Zhou Chang finally replied with a message: 【Got it, you get to bed early, too.】

Leaning against the headboard, Jing Hong asked casually, adding a touch of Beijing cadence: “Whatcha up to just now? Took you so long.”

Zhou Chang replied: 【Showering.】

Jing Hong checked the time on his laptop and asked again: 【Taking a shower takes forty-five minutes? It’s not like you have three thousand locks of hair to wash.】

Zhou Chang replied almost instantly, this time with a voice message: “Baby, you asked for this yourself.”

Jing Hong: 【…?】

Immediately afterward, a photo popped up in the chat box.

It was Zhou Chang’s distinctly broad, large, and thick-knuckled right hand.

Right in the center of his palm sat a thick layer of translucent, milky-white fluid, partially blurring the lines across his palm.

Zhou Chang’s voice message followed: “Kept imagining myself inside you the whole time.”

Then another: “Didn’t even have time to wash my hand before turning on the light to check the chat box with you on my phone.” “Even had to switch back to the 9-key keyboard layout to reply.”

Jing Hong: “…”

Very quickly, Zhou Chang saw a message pop up from Jing Hong in the chat box, though the content was somewhat bizarre:

【President Zhou, as the CEO of Qinghui Group—one of China’s “Big Four Internet Giants”—I believe President Zhou understands very clearly that】

Zhou Chang raised an eyebrow, holding his phone, waiting for Jing Hong’s following words.

He couldn’t guess what Jing Hong was trying to say.

Fortunately, Jing Hong didn’t keep him in suspense for long.

Very quickly, the words “The other party is typing…” appeared at the top of the chat box.

A few seconds later, the remaining sentence popped up:

【The internet is not a lawless land.】