Although they had promised to meet again in the evening, Wei Jiayi remained worried and insisted on taking Zhao Jing to the company first before heading home. The driver drove them away from Xuzhang Mountain, merging into the traffic. During the ride, Zhao Jing was on and off the phone, but Wei Jiayi showed no signs of dissatisfaction. Zhao Jing held his hand, and Wei Jiayi didn’t want to let go. The warmth from Zhao Jing’s hand spread through his palm, though his fingers still felt cold.
Before parting ways, Zhao Jing reassured him with a deep kiss on his pale lips.
Taking the elevator straight to the top floor, Zhao Jing no longer needed to reduce his strides, as he had done at the cemetery earlier. He walked briskly, slipping into the suit jacket his secretary had prepared for him. His left leg moved as smoothly as it had before the injury. The general office staff waited ahead, ready to open the meeting room door for him.
Dark clouds gathered outside the window. Around the long table, all the senior management, legal team, and PR team members who could attend had already gathered, each wearing a grim expression. Zhao Jing felt an even stronger sense of mission and responsibility than before, as he was now undoubtedly a family man.
As Zhao Jing approached the end of his twenty-eighth year, the crisis taught him something his parents had always emphasized: having a family makes you more cautious, and knowing that your husband is waiting for you at home drives you to work even harder. It was a profound and transformative experience in his journey through life.
The emergency meeting lasted from noon until evening. By six o’clock, Zhao Jing was ravenously hungry, so he asked his secretary to bring food to the conference room. He gave everyone a fifteen-minute break to eat and rest, then stepped away to return his mother’s call. He briefly explained the situation, “It’s not the worst; they’ve given us a three-month buffer period.”
He also told his mother about the strategy they planned to implement and their hope of reaching a settlement within the buffer period, reassuring his parents not to worry.
His mother, who often criticized Zhao Jing for making overly aggressive business decisions, didn’t voice any complaints this time. She simply said, “If you need help, just let me know.”
While still on the phone, Zhao Jing checked his messages. Wei Jiayi hadn’t contacted him, likely to avoid disrupting his work. Zhao Jing told his mother that he would, then poked Wei Jiayi.
After returning to the conference room and taking a few bites of food, Zhao Jing finally received a reply from Wei Jiayi: “How’s it going? Everything okay?”
“It’s going well.” Zhao Jing reassured him.
Amid the tense atmosphere of the meeting room and the whispers of his subordinates, Zhao Jing glanced at their affectionate chat interface again. Once more, he felt the sense of being the head of a family. He firmly told Wei Jiayi that he might be home late and advised him to go to bed early instead of waiting up—especially since Wei Jiayi had to catch a plane at 9 AM the next morning.
They exchanged a few words before Zhao Jing returned to the meeting. By the time the initial crisis response plans were finalized, it was almost midnight. Zhao Jing headed back to the apartment hotel, swiped his card to take the elevator upstairs, and opened the door. The apartment was silent. In the living room, a dim yellow light was on, and Wei Jiayi’s suitcase was placed by the door. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, with a faint light spilling out.
Zhao Jing walked in and saw Wei Jiayi already asleep with his eye mask on. He probably couldn’t sleep with the light on but didn’t want Zhao Jing to come home to a dark room. Most of Wei Jiayi’s face was covered, leaving only his chin visible, while his shoulder-length black hair spread across the pillow. His breathing was steady, and the sight filled Zhao Jing with an overwhelming sense of tenderness.
Not wanting to wake him, Zhao Jing, for the first time in his life, tried to move quietly. However, he needed to get his pajamas from the closet. In the process, he made too much noise, even knocking Wei Jiayi’s jacket with chains onto the floor with a loud “thud.” It was an uncharacteristic failure on Zhao Jing’s part. Fortunately, Wei Jiayi was in a deep sleep and only shifted slightly without waking up.
After taking a shower, Zhao Jing returned to the bedroom and found that Wei Jiayi had changed positions in his sleep. One arm was stretched diagonally across the bed, taking up the other half, giving him a rather unruly sleeping posture. Zhao Jing gently grasped his wrist and moved him over before lying down beside him. Just as he was about to turn off the light and finally join him in restful sleep, he caught a faint smell of alcohol lingering on Wei Jiayi’s body.
Wei Jiayi, this drunkard, Zhao Jing thought, pulling his hand back from the light switch.
There were three reasons. First, after over ten hours of emergency meetings, Zhao Jing didn’t feel physically tired. Second, Wei Jiayi’s presence easily distracted him and made his mind wander—this was an undeniable fact. Third, the experience Zhao Jing had the last time Wei Jiayi had been drinking was unforgettable, and that was entirely Wei Jiayi’s own doing.
Above all, it wasn’t a question of Zhao Jing lacking integrity; the issue was that Wei Jiayi was asleep.
As he looked at the defenseless man in front of him, Zhao Jing ran his finger over Wei Jiayi’s lips, then traced the line of his collarbone. Wei Jiayi slept so deeply that his bathrobe had come undone, revealing skin as white as fine jade, exuding a soft warmth.
Even with Zhao Jing’s feather-light touch, Wei Jiayi was a light sleeper. His body moved, and his hand rose to grab Zhao Jing’s hand, which had just brushed against his stomach. He held onto Zhao Jing’s fingers, preventing him from continuing, but didn’t push him away.
Zhao Jing didn’t think he had done anything wrong, nor did he feel guilty about being caught. He asked, “What’s wrong?”
“…” Wei Jiayi was speechless at Zhao Jing’s unapologetic confidence. He pinched the pad of Zhao Jing’s finger gently before leaning in to hug him.
Zhao Jing returned the embrace, his hand pressing firmly against Wei Jiayi’s waist. As a result, Wei Jiayi’s stomach caved slightly, but this time, he didn’t shrink away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Zhao Jing’s neck, pulling him even closer, and muttered something, clearly influenced by alcohol.
“My belly feels so cramped,” Wei Jiayi said.
Hearing this, Zhao Jing momentarily lost control of his strength, gripping Wei Jiayi’s waist too tightly. Wei Jiayi yelped in pain, and Zhao Jing quickly loosened his grip, asking, “Why did you drink so much again?”
“I didn’t. It wasn’t that much.” Wei Jiayi didn’t want to admit that, even in his late twenties, he was still behaving like a lovestruck teenager. He had worried that his boyfriend might be concerned if he knew he had been drinking too much alone. Nervously, he had secretly worn Zhao Jing’s eye mask, pretending Zhao Jing was by his side, and ended up falling asleep by accident.
As punishment for lying, Zhao Jing kissed him with such intensity that he sank into the mattress beneath them.
In a half-sleep state, combined with the numbing effects of alcohol, Wei Jiayi’s senses were dulled. He sleepily cupped Zhao Jing’s face, feeling as though Zhao Jing had turned into a heavy human-sized pillow, so weighty that all his previous insecurities melted away. All he could do was open his mouth and kiss Zhao Jing back, kissing him until he was breathless. His bathrobe loosened and fell open.
After Wei Jiayi said that it hurt, Zhao Jing was careful not to exert too much force or move too far down. His fingers rested on the left side of Wei Jiayi’s lower abdomen, while his other hand supported himself above Wei Jiayi. He paused for a few seconds, observing him.
“Zhao Jing.” Wei Jiayi stared into Zhao Jing’s eyes, feeling so close that Zhao Jing’s handsome face nearly made him blush. Raising a hand, he lightly stroked Zhao Jing’s chin and said, “Tonight, I can do it.”
Zhao Jing wasn’t sure why, but a faint smile tugged at his lips as if amused by Wei Jiayi’s drunken words without taking them seriously. Lowering his head, he trailed kisses along Wei Jiayi’s neck.
Wei Jiayi’s fingers tangled in Zhao Jing’s hair, following the path of his kisses downward.
Zhao Jing’s kisses were soft, never lingering too long in one spot. At first, Wei Jiayi was hazy, thinking it was just a casual moment of intimacy. But then, Zhao Jing’s hand settled on his hip, and he gently began to pull down his underwear.
Wei Jiayi was so startled that he tugged on Zhao Jing’s hair. Lowering his head, he saw Zhao Jing gripping his wrist and forcefully pinning it back onto the bed. Without hesitation, Zhao Jing took him into his scalding mouth.
Wei Jiayi had never experienced anything like this before—he hadn’t even imagined it. He was too weak to resist, watching the ceiling as it swayed above him. His legs, unable to close, bent powerlessly as he softly called Zhao Jing’s name a few times. Soon, he lost himself completely, collapsing limply onto the bed. A faint fishy scent lingered in the air, and his lower abdomen felt sticky.
Zhao Jing coughed twice, snapping Wei Jiayi out of his daze. Struggling to sit up, Wei Jiayi reached for a box of tissues, pulling out a few and pressing them against Zhao Jing’s mouth, urging him to spit out what he had in his mouth. He then began wiping Zhao Jing’s lips, but after a couple of swipes, Zhao Jing caught his hand and said, “Wei Jiayi, that’s enough—you’re going to rub my skin off at this rate.”
Wei Jiayi couldn’t bring himself to think about it; his entire body felt hot, as though it were ripe. “Do you want to rinse your mouth?” He had never heard his own voice sound so weak before.
“Why?” Zhao Jing asked, “You’re disgusted by your own stuff?”
Wei Jiayi’s head buzzed, and he felt like he might die. He didn’t dare look at Zhao Jing, letting himself be pulled onto Zhao Jing’s lap. His hand rested on Zhao Jing’s chest muscles, but it lacked strength and slid down until it landed on the hard part of Zhao Jing.
Through the fabric of Zhao Jing’s underwear, Wei Jiayi gently stroked a few times, feeling Zhao Jing grow even harder. Lowering his head, he tugged down Zhao Jing’s underwear. With both hands, he was able to hold it, moving up and down. As he continued, Zhao Jing caught his wrist with his right hand, guiding him to move faster. Zhao Jing kissed his chin, his heated breath tickling Wei Jiayi’s neck. Meanwhile, Zhao Jing’s left hand gripped Wei Jiayi’s side, his thumb teasing his chest, sending jolts of both pain and pleasure coursing through him.
Before Wei Jiayi could fully satisfy Zhao Jing, he was consumed by his own rising desire, craving Zhao Jing to use more force, yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Wei Jiayi continued moving his hands for what felt like ages, but Zhao Jing showed no signs of ejaculating. Feeling inadequate compared to Zhao Jing’s skills, Wei Jiayi stumbled off the bed, his knees hitting the floor. Gripping Zhao Jing’s legs, he urged him to stand.
Wei Jiayi’s robe hung loosely from his elbow, but he didn’t bother fixing it. Pressing his lips to Zhao Jing’s intimidatingly large, heated hardness, he opened his mouth wide, managing to take just the tip inside. His mouth stretched to its limit, his tongue flattened beneath. With his eyes shut, he moved back and forth dozens of times. His throat ached painfully as he pushed further, suppressing the urge to cough, though saliva dripped uncontrollably from the corners of his mouth. Tears welled in his eyes from the effort.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he looked up at Zhao Jing, pleading for help.
His vision blurred, and he thought Zhao Jing’s face appeared emotionless. The hard object in his mouth grew even harder, almost as if it might pierce his throat. Thankfully, Zhao Jing pulled back, gripping his chin before grabbing his arm and pressing him against the easel by the TV.
The wet hardness pressed between Wei Jiayi’s legs, and Zhao Jing’s hand tightened around his waist as if intent on crushing him. After a moment, Zhao Jing’s grip shifted lower, holding the part of Wei Jiayi that had hardened once more.
In his dazed state, Wei Jiayi turned his head and kissed Zhao Jing, faintly tasting a salty tang. He squeezed his legs tighter as he asked intermittently, “Is this okay? Do you want to come in? I’ve prepared everything for tonight.”
Zhao Jing paused for a brief moment, and Wei Jiayi thought he might ask where the items were. But instead, Zhao Jing called him “stupid,” kissed his cheek, and said, “Did you forget you need to wake up early tomorrow for your business trip?”
–
At 6 AM, Wei Jiayi woke up with his legs still weak, his cheeks sore, and his throat feeling as if something was still lodged in it. His hands seemed to still remember the sensation of gripping Zhao Jing’s hair or perhaps his shoulders.
He reached out to silence the alarm. Zhao Jing didn’t wake up but tightened his hold around Wei Jiayi’s waist. Their heated skin pressed together, signaling a new kind of intimacy between them that was different from anything before.
He finally managed to pry Zhao Jing’s arm off him so he could get out of bed, but Zhao Jing suddenly woke up, grabbing his bathrobe and pulling him back. Wei Jiayi reminded himself that he needed to catch his flight and couldn’t afford to waste time. He grabbed a pillow from the floor and stuffed it into Zhao Jing’s arms. Watching the pillow being squashed tightly in Zhao Jing’s embrace, Wei Jiayi felt amused. Zhao Jing mumbled something incomprehensible, and Wei Jiayi leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Keep sleeping.”
To his surprise, Zhao Jing responded with an “Okay,” and obediently cuddled the pillow, not moving.
In the bathroom, Wei Jiayi barely dared to look in the mirror. The shirt he had initially grabbed had too low of a neckline, so he returned to the wardrobe and found a long-sleeved shirt that covered him more securely. After changing, he checked himself in the mirror again to ensure everything was in place. He left Zhao Jing a note on the bedroom door before heading downstairs with his luggage.
For many years, Wei Jiayi had been focused solely on advancing his career, rushing from one place to another. He would wake up and go to bed in different time zones, never feeling any particular sense of sadness about it.
At the airport lounge, Wei Jiayi made a call to his agent. Together, they confirmed several new projects and contracts. As their conversation was about to end, Wei Jiayi paused for a moment before deciding to bring it up. “Xu-ge, I think I’d like to take on more local work from now on.”
“Jiayi, are you in a relationship?” His agent was always perceptive.
Wei Jiayi didn’t deny it but answered tactfully, “It won’t affect my work.”
“Do I know them?” his agent pressed further.
Wei Jiayi hummed in acknowledgment.
“Jiayi.” His agent had been in the industry for many years and had witnessed countless same-sex and opposite-sex couples come together and fall apart. It was clear he was debating whether to say what was on his mind. Eventually, he still advised Wei Jiayi, “Since this is your first relationship, you should take it slow. You’re still on the rise in your career. If you give too much to the other person, in the end, it’s you who’ll suffer.”
Wei Jiayi replied, “I know,” but still stuck to his opinion. His agent sighed, “I’ll try to sort out a few for you, but you know the options will be limited.”
After hanging up, Wei Jiayi noticed a message from Zhao Jing.
Zhao Jing wrote: “Wei Jiayi, the chef told me your sparkling water in the fridge is expired.”
“Did you see the note I left?” Wei Jiayi asked.
“Of course.” Zhao Jing’s reply came: “Even if you didn’t write it, I’d still know you snuck off early this morning after stuffing a pillow into my arms. And that you’d miss me.”
What had been a typical lovey-dovey note suddenly made Wei Jiayi blush when Zhao Jing repeated it back to him. Luckily, Zhao Jing followed up with another message: “I miss you too.”
Wei Jiayi was scheduled to be away for another ten days or so. During this time, his agent hadn’t managed to secure many of the projects Wei Jiayi had requested. It didn’t bother him too much, as Zhao Jing wasn’t spending much time in the city either.
Keeping tabs on the news, Wei Jiayi saw that Zhao Jing’s company had shown no signs of being implicated in the antitrust investigation. According to Zhao Jing, the company was still in the buffer period. Everyone strictly adhered to their non-disclosure agreements and maintained silence in public, while Zhao Jing busied himself traveling the world and communicating with key stakeholders to sustain their confidence.
Due to their limited time, their communication was sporadic. Wei Jiayi would let Zhao Jing know when he had a break, and not long after, Zhao Jing would call or video chat with him. Despite his typically picky nature, Zhao Jing’s routine became chaotic during his busy periods, yet he never once complained about being tired and always appeared full of energy.
Wei Jiayi began to suspect that Zhao Jing’s day somehow had 30 hours. He could now fully understand what Zhao Jing had meant when he once mentioned that he’d slept very little as a child.
Wei Jiayi was often forced to listen to Zhao Jing talk about work in a way that felt almost hypnotic. He would listen until he drifted off to sleep, only to wake up and find Zhao Jing still awake. Wei Jiayi would then have to endure Zhao Jing asking whether he had dreamed about him.
The rhythm of life and work hadn’t changed much, yet Wei Jiayi noticed shifts in his emotions. For the first time in 26 years, he felt as though all of his steady outpouring of affection was being directed entirely toward Zhao Jing. Day by day, Wei Jiayi thought about him more and more, unsure if it was Zhao Jing’s peculiar personality or the fiery warmth of his body that he craved.
Perhaps, as his agent had said, it was because this was his first relationship, making it difficult to rein it in, which caused his mindset to become distorted.
One day, while photographing a celebrity at a jewelry counter event, Wei Jiayi listened to the celebrity recite the same advertising slogan over and over. It reminded him of a time when Zhao Jing had asked him about jewelry designers. As if possessed, Wei Jiayi inexplicably swiped his card and bought a pair of new rings with diamonds inlaid on the inner side of the bands.
He spent a long time comparing the ring sizes the clerk provided. He also asked for two chains, intending to wear the rings as pendants.
Luo Ming, the event planner and one of Wei Jiayi’s close friends, had arranged to have a meal with him after the event.
While Luo Ming was on the phone, Wei Jiayi finalized his purchase. When he looked up, Luo Ming was standing there with a grin. “What’s going on? How long has this been going on?”
“Not long.” Wei Jiayi smiled, unwilling to elaborate.
But Luo Ming, true to his over-the-top personality, immediately rallied a group of friends to surround and confront Wei Jiayi about the rings. His assistant, Xiao Chi, along with the lighting technician, quickly joined in. Luo Ming teased, “I never expected our Jiayi to be so extravagant when it comes to romance. You’ve barely started dating, and you’re already splurging on luxury diamond rings without a second thought.”
Xiao Chi stood silently by, looking as though he wanted to say something but didn’t dare. Wei Jiayi glanced at him, and Xiao Chi averted his eyes, falling silent.
Drinking was inevitable at the dinner. As the group pressed him for details over multiple rounds of drinks, Wei Jiayi eventually admitted, “I met him while volunteering on Buderus Island.”
“Narrowing it down.” Luo Ming pulled out his phone to search for the list of volunteers.
A few of them crowded together to look at the screen, pointing and discussing for a while. Suddenly, Luo Ming looked up with a hesitant expression and asked, “Jiayi, you bought such an expensive ring—please tell me it’s not that Li Mingcheng from the Li family?”
“No, no,” Wei Jiayi was taken aback and immediately denied it.
To his surprise, Luo Ming’s brows furrowed even deeper. “Then the only other possibility I can think of is someone from the construction team that Puchang Tech sponsored. Could your boyfriend be… a blue-collar worker?”
“…” Wei Jiayi was so stunned by the creative suggestion that he didn’t know how to respond. He remained silent.
Apparently convinced that his guess was correct, Luo Ming widened his eyes. “So there’s a big gap between your professions? Is he handsome?”
The misunderstanding was so huge that Wei Jiayi didn’t even know where to begin correcting it. He replied stiffly, “He’s handsome.”
“Jiayi,” a female friend chimed in, hesitating slightly before offering her opinion. “I know volunteering is admirable, but wasn’t he sent there by his company? That’s not really volunteering, is it? Do you think he might be interested in you because you have money?”
“I don’t think so,” Wei Jiayi said awkwardly.
She continued, “You might want to think twice about giving him that ring. These days, a lot of people are looking for wealthy partners to rely on.”
Wei Jiayi replied guilty, “Okay.”
In reality, when Wei Jiayi bought the rings, he was well aware that these ready-made rings weren’t even as expensive as one of Zhao Jing’s sweaters. There was no way he could give it to Zhao Jing, yet, in a moment of impulse, he bought them anyway.
Now, the rings were hidden in a box, and every time he spotted the four bulky bags taking up space, he felt embarrassed and regretful about his brainless and poorly timed shopping decision. At first, he considered secretly sneaking them into a random corner of Zhao Jing’s house during his next visit, but eventually, he decided to just shove them deep into his wardrobe, where they would gather dust.
At the same time, Wei Jiayi felt a twinge of unease as he listened to Zhao Jing complain on the phone, keeping track of how many hours had passed since they last saw each other. The truth was, they really couldn’t meet, so Wei Jiayi could only offer a few words of comfort, trying not to let it bother him. However, Zhao Jing spent a full three minutes criticizing him, accusing him of sounding insincere and pointing out that he wasn’t nearly as earnest or eager as he’d been the other night when he had Zhao Jing pinned down. Hearing this, Wei Jiayi’s face flushed, his ears burned, and he almost hung up the call.
By the ninth night apart, both of them had been so consumed by work that their messages had dwindled. Wei Jiayi wasn’t even sure where Zhao Jing was at that moment.
After finishing his work for the day, Wei Jiayi returned to his hotel room. While organizing his clothes, he had already made up his mind to give the rings to Xiao Chi, asking him to exchange them for a different size and gift them to his girlfriend.
He sat staring at his suitcase for a long time, just about to place the box into a shopping bag to take to Xiao Chi’s room, when his phone suddenly buzzed with a call from Zhao Jing.
Zhao Jing asked, “Wei Jiayi, are you back yet?”
Wei Jiayi felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding as he replied, “I just got back.”
Zhao Jing said, “Good. Then guess where I am right now?”
His tone was so blatantly smug that Wei Jiayi’s heart skipped a beat. Just then, there was a knock at his hotel room door.
