ST CHAPTER 33

In the eight days, twenty hours, and thirty-five minutes since they had last parted, Wei Jiayi’s thoughtfulness, quiet endurance, exhaustion from work, and constant worry had all been evident to Zhao Jing.

Over the past few days, during their phone calls, Wei Jiayi often seemed distracted, his gaze fixated on Zhao Jing’s face on the screen. Perhaps the long separation between them was making him feel anxious.

To ease Wei Jiayi’s emotions, Zhao Jing had compressed his schedule, rearranging the order of his trips. Eventually, he managed to stay overnight in the city where Wei Jiayi was working. Since becoming more intimate with him, Zhao Jing’s understanding of family had deepened. He now fully grasped the meaning of attachment and belonging. Truthfully, if they didn’t meet soon, Zhao Jing himself wouldn’t be able to handle it. Every night during their video calls, Wei Jiayi always wore very little.

As for the antitrust crisis in his company, Zhao Jing still had everything firmly under control. After all, monopolistic practices were a common challenge for any market-dominating enterprise, and Zhao Jing had long prepared for this eventuality.

He had demonstrated the utmost sincerity, expressing a willingness to adjust his business practices and even pay fines if necessary. This cooperative attitude had resulted in negotiations with the regulatory authorities proceeding relatively smoothly. There was at least a 50% chance of reaching a settlement during the buffer period, potentially avoiding a formal public investigation.

During breaks in negotiations, Zhao Jing visited key clients and investors,  explaining the situation in advance and successfully gaining their trust.

Even Zhao Jing’s mother had started to view him more favorably. During one of their phone calls, she complimented him for becoming more composed, remarking that she had expected him to take a more aggressive approach. Zhao Jing agreed with her assessment, admitting that, in the past, he might have indeed handled things more impulsively.

Though he could foresee the potential for heavy losses, Zhao Jing was not someone who easily admitted fault. Yet, things had changed, and he now clearly understood that, without realizing it, he had become a more grounded man. Especially after that night, whenever Zhao Jing thought about Wei Jiayi’s affectionate kisses and soft embrace, he felt a sense of stable belonging. It helped him stay awake during the late-night hours of work as if he would never again feel tired. He wanted to give his very best because someone was waiting for him.

He couldn’t let Wei Jiayi worry. All the stubbornness he had once clung to had fallen away as if it had never mattered at all.

More importantly, Zhao Jing had come to realize that Wei Jiayi lacked a sense of security. It was evident in the intimate details of their relationship. For example, Wei Jiayi was often far more proactive in physical affection than in verbally expressing his love. If analyzed from a psychological perspective, Zhao Jing suspected this might stem from Wei Jiayi’s upbringing.

This was something that could only be worked through with time and understanding. Zhao Jing took it upon himself to shoulder the responsibility, overcoming any obstacles. The previous night, he had figured out Wei Jiayi’s room number during their video call, and today, he finally stood at his door, knocking, ready to give him a surprise.

Although, it was more of a shock than a surprise.

Wei Jiayi held his phone, staring at the shopping bag containing the rings and chains on the floor, completely unsure of what to do. After a brief pause, he quickly shoved the bag into the wardrobe, covered it with a bathrobe, and closed the door. Then, he hurried to open the door. Remembering Zhao Jing’s teachings, he deliberately locked the latch before opening it, leaving only a narrow gap to peek through.

Zhao Jing set his phone down, noticing the locked latch, and commented, “Good progress.”

“I remember everything you told me.” Wei Jiayi held onto the door as he jokingly took credit, “I lock the door every time I come in.”

Zhao Jing raised an eyebrow. “Wei Jiayi, if you really want to fool me, next time, you’d better make sure the locking sound is quieter.”

Over time, Wei Jiayi had developed a thick skin. Even now, when exposed, he couldn’t be bothered to apologize. Acting as if nothing had happened, he closed the door, unlocked it, and let Zhao Jing in. “How come you’re free to visit? Are you in a hurry?”

“It’s fine.” Zhao Jing locked the door behind him. Without another word, he pressed Wei Jiayi into the corner of the entryway, lowered his head, and kissed him fiercely, silencing him before he could say more.

With their time apart growing longer, Wei Jiayi had only seen Zhao Jing through his phone screen. Sometimes, when the phone was propped up, all he could see was Zhao Jing’s chin. He often found himself forgetting what Zhao Jing’s body looked like. Now, Zhao Jing surrounded him with heat and shadows, leaving no space to see the room around them. His breath burned like fire.

Zhao Jing had locked the door but hadn’t turned off the light. Fortunately, the entryway was already dim. Despite the room offering plenty of space, Zhao Jing trapped Wei Jiayi by the door, giving him no room to escape. Clothes lay scattered on the floor as Wei Jiayi’s back pressed against the wall.

After their breaths eventually steadied, Wei Jiayi lay against Zhao Jing’s chest on the bed, listening to the rapid beat of his heart.

Perhaps he was utterly exhausted, or maybe the experience had been too overwhelming, but after a moment of relaxation, Wei Jiayi unexpectedly fell asleep. When he woke up, Zhao Jing was no longer beside him; the sound of running water came from the bathroom.

At first, Wei Jiayi lay staring at the ceiling, unable to resist reaching out to touch the spot where Zhao Jing had been. He couldn’t shake the suspicion that it had all been a shameful dream. But if it was, Wei Jiayi thought, wasn’t it going too far? Was he truly that depraved at his core?

His face grew warm as he suddenly remembered the hidden rings. Alarmed, he nearly jumped out of bed and rushed to the wardrobe, pulling it open. To his relief, Zhao Jing had taken the bathrobe that was hanging up, leaving the other one draped over the shopping bag, just as if it had accidentally fallen.

Zhao Jing’s cleanliness and self-discipline had unwittingly saved Wei Jiayi’s secret. Wei Jiayi couldn’t quite put his feelings into words—relieved, yet also a little disheartened. No matter what couple’s items he bought, they would never seem good enough for Zhao Jing; nothing felt expensive enough. If only he was rich himself, he could confidently buy anything, even a small trinket, and proudly attach it to Zhao Jing’s belongings.

The sound of water from the bathroom stopped, and Wei Jiayi realized he had been overthinking for quite a while. Nervously, he glanced around the room, grabbed the shopping bag, and hid it behind the curtains, covering it with a lounge chair.

Hurriedly, he slipped on his bathrobe and sat on the bed. Moments later, Zhao Jing emerged. Seeing Wei Jiayi sitting there, Zhao Jing asked, “How come you’re awake?”

Wei Jiayi shook his head, offering a small smile, and then headed into the bathroom.

He washed up, faintly hoping that the marks Zhao Jing had left on him earlier would linger a bit longer. When he opened the bathroom door, Zhao Jing was on the phone again.

The person on the other end of the line was likely an investor. Zhao Jing was explaining something, though it sounded more like a casual conversation. His tone was relaxed. Wei Jiayi realized that Zhao Jing wasn’t bad at making small talk or joking around.

“I can’t guarantee that no information will leak before we sign the settlement agreement.” Zhao Jing waved Wei Jiayi over. “But the public statement is ready. I can recite it for you when we meet tomorrow. Personally, I think it’s pretty well-written.”

Wei Jiayi walked closer, hearing the other person’s voice muffled and heavy through the receiver. He couldn’t make out the words clearly, but it seemed that Zhao Jing had convinced him, as there was no aggression in his voice.

As Zhao Jing reassured the person on the phone, he reached for Wei Jiayi’s hand, pulling him down to sit on his lap. Zhao Jing’s legs were strong, and Wei Jiayi leaned against his shoulder, careful not to make a sound or shift too much.

Wei Jiayi assumed Zhao Jing would talk with the investor for a while longer. He tried to stay still, lowering his gaze and listening to Zhao Jing’s voice, searching his mind for any bits of financial knowledge he still remembered from his elective university courses. A pang of guilt struck him—Zhao Jing had even found a professor to offer a photography class for his sake, while all Wei Jiayi could recall from his finance classes was how he used to fall asleep in front of his computer while doing assignments.

Before he could think for long, Zhao Jing abruptly ended the call and pressed him back down, interrupting his train of thought about the professor’s face.

After a bout of fooling around, they barely had time to catch their breath before Zhao Jing was on top of him again. Wei Jiayi felt drained, with no energy left to keep going. Pushing his head away from his chest, Wei Jiayi said, “Zhao Jing, I’m so tired.”

Zhao Jing was obedient in this regard and stopped the moment Wei Jiayi pushed him away. However, unaware of his own weight, he remained lying heavily on top of Wei Jiayi, making it hard for him to breathe. Then, Zhao Jing spoke, “I’m leaving at six tomorrow morning.”

“If there’s something you want to say to me, you should say it now,” Zhao Jing added. “I’m afraid you’ll sleep like a pig tomorrow morning.”

Wei Jiayi was about to call him out for twisting the truth, but then he remembered that Zhao Jing had only come for a brief visit. The thought made him reluctant to let go. Wrapping his arms around Zhao Jing’s back, he asked, “What do you want to hear?”

Zhao Jing didn’t respond. Wei Jiayi guessed what might be on his mind and said, “Zhao Jing, I missed you so much.”

Perhaps the words touched Zhao Jing deeply, as he responded with an “Mm.”

At Wei Jiayi’s request, the lights in the room were left off. Yet it wasn’t completely dark. When Wei Jiayi opened his eyes, he could still make out the outline of Zhao Jing’s hair pressed against him.

Confessing feelings always felt like stepping outside the safe zone of love—revealing too much could leave the vulnerable one at a disadvantage. But in the darkness, Wei Jiayi still said to Zhao Jing, “I really like you.”

Zhao Jing moved slightly, the weight of his body easing on Wei Jiayi, but the weight in Wei Jiayi’s heart only grew heavier. Zhao Jing didn’t respond, leaving Wei Jiayi unsure how to continue. It had been too tiring earlier, and now he felt a sense of shame and a desire to escape. Feeling groggy, Wei Jiayi just wished he could fall asleep as soon as possible. Just as he was about to drift off, Zhao Jing spoke. “Wei Jiayi.”

Wei Jiayi muttered, “Hmm?” As soon as Zhao Jing heard him, his tone became immediately shocked “Wei Jiayi, why are you falling asleep?” He pushed at Wei Jiayi’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Wei Jiayi, startled by the push, woke up completely. “Is something wrong?”

“You still haven’t said everything, have you?” Zhao Jing’s voice rose, filled with urgency, as if frustrated that Wei Jiayi wasn’t living up to expectations.

Wei Jiayi didn’t understand why he was so anxious. He sat up slightly, shook his head to clear the sleepiness, and asked, “What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving at six tomorrow morning,” Zhao Jing reminded him.

“Huh?” Wei Jiayi’s confusion deepened, now flustered by Zhao Jing’s urgency. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause before Zhao Jing finally said, “I already saw the things you were hiding.”

All traces of sleep vanished from Wei Jiayi’s body. His eyes widened as if the night had suddenly turned into broad daylight, exposing every hidden feeling he’d harbored. His limbs stiffened, feeling unlike himself. But what was truly terrifying was that, knowing Zhao Jing as well as he did, Wei Jiayi immediately realized that Zhao Jing had completely misunderstood the gift he had prepared.

“I know you’re shy, but I already found out, so I can’t pretend I don’t know,” Zhao Jing continued talking by himself, oblivious to Wei Jiayi’s strange state. “Actually, I ordered one for you too, but I had my secretary cancel it while you were sleeping. For our wedding, all we need is a single pair of rings.”

The heavy pressure on him finally vanished. Wei Jiayi stared blankly at Zhao Jing’s eyes, which sparkled even in the darkness.

Zhao Jing said to him, “I do.”