Not wanting to be disturbed by unrelated people, Zhao Jing drove to the airport himself to pick up Wei Jiayi.
The drive was smooth, but the wedding ring rubbing against the steering wheel gave Zhao Jing a faint sense of unfamiliarity on his ring finger. It felt as though it was drawn to its counterpart far away, constantly reminding him that he was married now and had a responsibility to protect his family.
Yesterday, after the market opened, stock prices fluctuated, though the movement was smaller than expected. It was far from a disaster. The PR manager informed Zhao Jing that even the most skeptical journalists covering the antitrust investigation couldn’t help but admire his luck.
Half a year ago, Zhao Jing wouldn’t have believed in any mysterious theories. But after marriage, he increasingly felt that having a partner truly enriched his life.
Two months ago, Wei Jiayi had appeared on the muddy coastline, bringing water and a first aid kit—like a guardian angel. He had anxiously helped Zhao Jing up, then carried him to safety, as Zhao Jing’s leg was broken, before scouring the area for water so Zhao Jing could wash his face.
Now, two months later, Wei Jiayi had made Zhao Jing more mature because of family. He had smoothed out Zhao Jing’s sharp edges, helping him navigate the crisis with ease. Wei Jiayi loved him so much that he had secretly changed to a midnight flight just to see him a few hours earlier. Clearly, they were destined to get married. Otherwise, why had there been no obstacles on the road from Wei Jiayi’s hotel room to the marriage registration office? It was as if God had removed all barriers for them.
At the airport exit, Zhao Jing saw Wei Jiayi, who looked so exhausted he seemed completely out of it. Zhao Jing called his name, but Wei Jiayi didn’t respond.
His hair was a bit messy, and he wore a loose-knitted sweater with the zipper left undone, revealing a thin T-shirt underneath. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing his slender wrists as he slowly dragged his suitcase forward. After all these years, he was still the same.
Zhao Jing’s mind wandered back to their rare meetings over the years.
During that time, Wei Jiayi’s hair had gone through several changes—from white with colorful streaks to gray and then to black. The equipment he brought with him each time had changed, but his face and weight had remained the same. So had his choice of perfume and the way he walked.
Looking back now, Zhao Jing couldn’t understand why, despite knowing each other for so many years, they hadn’t gotten together sooner. If Wei Jiayi had reached out to him a few more times, or if Zhao Jing hadn’t missed his mother’s charity gala due to work and his distaste for socializing, perhaps they would have—
The temperature was close to zero, and the airport arrivals hall wasn’t much warmer. Zhao Jing pulled Wei Jiayi, who had been wandering around exhausted, into his arms, as though embracing a block of ice.
Wei Jiayi’s face pressed against Zhao Jing’s chest. He wasn’t wearing his ring on his finger; instead, he had threaded it onto a chain around his neck. Zhao Jing noticed immediately because Wei Jiayi was holding him so tightly that the ring was squeezed between their chests.
While Zhao Jing naturally felt mildly dissatisfied, ever since their marriage, Wei Jiayi had become incredibly clingy—wrapping himself around Zhao Jing and constantly saying how much he missed him.
Considering that Wei Jiayi was insecure and generally clueless about anything outside his profession, Zhao Jing could only indulge him. He refrained from saying too much, instead taking Wei Jiayi’s suitcase and holding his icy hand as they walked toward the parking lot.
By the time they got home, the sky had brightened into a pale gray.
Zhao Jing had planned to let Wei Jiayi rest. He intended for him to take a shower, sleep for a while, and then discuss other things. He even closed the curtains tightly. However, when Zhao Jing finished his own shower and changed into his clothes for the day, he found that Wei Jiayi hadn’t gone to sleep.
With his back turned, Wei Jiayi was fiddling with something on the bedside table. Zhao Jing approached to see what it was and found that he had opened a bottle of lubricant and a packet of condoms. Wrappers were scattered near the lamp, and Wei Jiayi was holding the bottle of lubricant. The ring was now back on his finger.
When he noticed Zhao Jing was dressed to leave, his expression froze slightly. “Are you going out?”
“I have a meeting at 10:30,” Zhao Jing told him, glancing at his watch. It was 7:20.
“Oh.” Wei Jiayi put the bottle down obediently, looking as though he understood that Zhao Jing’s work was the priority. “Then I’ll sleep for a while and wait for you to come back.” He stood and kissed Zhao Jing. Having showered, his skin was warm to the touch.
Zhao Jing returned the kiss for a moment, then pulled off his tie and took Wei Jiayi’s hand, guiding him to unbutton his shirt.
“Aren’t you going to your meeting?” Wei Jiayi mumbled.
Zhao Jing had responsibilities to his company, but he also had responsibilities to Wei Jiayi. He couldn’t let his husband prepare everything only to be disappointed—Wei Jiayi seemed to need reassurance that this intimacy would provide. Besides, it was still early. Though it felt as hurried as their wedding, Zhao Jing promised firmly, “There’s enough time.”
Wei Jiayi didn’t resist any further. He gently pulled Zhao Jing onto the bed and lay beneath him.
Taking the initiative, Wei Jiayi squeezed lubricant onto Zhao Jing’s fingers, spread his legs, and let Zhao Jing prepare him. All the while, his hand gripped Zhao Jing, sliding up and down.
Zhao Jing could tell that Wei Jiayi was nervous yet eager for some reason. Even though there was some discomfort, he bit his lip, pretending it didn’t hurt. Zhao Jing took his time, ensuring thorough lubrication. When he finally pushed in, Wei Jiayi closed his eyes tightly.
Because of the prolonged preparation, Wei Jiayi didn’t seem to be in too much pain—at least, not enough to soften. His hand clung tightly to Zhao Jing’s forearm, the warmth of his wedding ring pressing against Zhao Jing’s skin.
Zhao Jing asked, “Does it hurt?”
Wei Jiayi barely shook his head, his eyes still shut. He whispered, “It’s okay. Just feels really full.”
Zhao Jing glanced down. Wei Jiayi’s arms were white as snow, looking so delicate they seemed like they could break with the slightest bend. His nipples were swollen from being bitten. While the rest of his body didn’t yet show signs of sexual activity, his slender frame had already welcomed Zhao Jing. His long legs were bent, wrapping around Zhao Jing’s waist.
Between his legs, traces of lubricant, now frothy, leaked from where their bodies were joined, dripping onto the sheets below.
“Can I move?” Zhao Jing asked.
Wei Jiayi gave a faint hum of assent. Zhao Jing began to move tentatively. Each time he pushed in deeper, Wei Jiayi’s grip on his arm tightened. It wasn’t clear if he was holding back discomfort or responding to pleasure. Yet, Zhao Jing couldn’t enter him fully, as if something was blocking him.
Wei Jiayi whimpered continuously, fluid seeping from the tip of his cock. Zhao Jing suddenly noticed that Wei Jiayi’s usually sunken stomach had begun to bulge, as if he had overeaten and couldn’t hide his fullness. The sight reminded Zhao Jing of when Wei Jiayi had given him a blowjob.
Wei Jiayi had tried hard to take Zhao Jing in, but it was too much for him. His mouth couldn’t hold it—like trying to force something into a container that was too small. After just a few attempts, tears welled up in his eyes.
It was no different with sex. Zhao Jing clasped Wei Jiayi’s waist, guiding him to adjust. Each slow thrust caused Wei Jiayi’s lower abdomen to swell slightly. When Zhao Jing withdrew partially, his stomach would sink back down, passively revealing what his body was enduring.
Zhao Jing grabbed Wei Jiayi’s hand, bringing it to feel the pulsing beneath his abdomen. Wei Jiayi’s fingers followed his, weakly moving up and down, but then his eyes flew open in alarm. Shaking his head, he said, “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Zhao Jing didn’t understand immediately. “Don’t touch, or don’t continue?”
Wei Jiayi’s swollen lips parted slightly, looking almost greedy as he replied, “Don’t touch.” Zhao Jing caught sight of the red tip of his tongue and immediately leaned down to chase it. Wei Jiayi didn’t even have the strength to use his tongue, moaning as he opened his mouth and let Zhao Jing suck and bite.
Zhao Jing thrust into him, pushing Wei Jiayi deeper into the mattress, then grabbed his knees to pull him closer, allowing for deeper penetration.
Zhao Jing had never imagined what it would be like to make love to Wei Jiayi, or what he might look like during sex. The thought had always seemed immoral to him. But now, he felt that even if he had tried to imagine it, he still wouldn’t have been able to picture it.
Wei Jiayi was out of control, disoriented, his joints turning pink. His neck and chest burned with heat, giving his skin a flush of desire Zhao Jing had never seen before. Wei Jiayi called his name over and over, unable to say anything else, as though every part of him was consumed entirely by Zhao Jing.
When Zhao Jing finally managed to thrust fully inside, Wei Jiayi shuddered violently, his body trembling as he climaxed. Cum slid down his slightly swollen abdomen. Instinctively, he reached out to wipe it away, but his fingers brushed against the place where Zhao Jing was still buried deep inside him. He stared at Zhao Jing with a dazed expression.
In that moment, Zhao Jing realized he was jealous of everyone who knew Wei Jiayi. He cupped Wei Jiayi’s face, struggling to control the intense, almost unfamiliar feeling of possessiveness. Since Wei Jiayi wouldn’t let him bite, he could only kiss his lips—already a deep red from their earlier kisses.
–
When Wei Jiayi woke up, it was already afternoon, and Zhao Jing was gone.
He realized that Zhao Jing must have bathed him and dressed him in fresh clothes before leaving. His skin felt clean, but his body no longer felt like his own. Wei Jiayi had never imagined that having sex with Zhao Jing would be like this. The details kept flashing through his mind, each image making him almost frightened. Yet he knew that if he had to choose again, he would still have opened the package of lubricant.
Struggling to turn on the light, he noticed a note stuck to the table lamp—written by Zhao Jing. The handwriting wasn’t sloppy; it looked elegant, much like Zhao Jing himself. Aside from moments when his words or actions left others exasperated, there was truly nothing imperfect about him.
The note read: “There’s food prepared by the chef in the fridge. You can heat it up yourself or call him to cook for you if you feel like it. I’ll be home by six.”
Wei Jiayi got out of bed and changed into a thin set of loungewear. As he looked at his body, covered in marks that made it seem like he’d been mistreated, a wave of dizziness hit him. Slowly, he made his way to the dining room, his entire body aching, though he didn’t feel hungry. When he opened the fridge, he had no appetite—his stomach already felt full.
Then, suddenly, the reason came to him. He shuddered at the memories it brought up.
In the end, he settled on heating a bowl of oatmeal. Sitting down, he ate a little before checking his phone.
There were numerous unread messages. The pinned contact was the demon—whom Wei Jiayi himself had chosen to marry. The chat contained dozens of bewildering messages, detailing his entire day’s activities, along with a link that read: “This is my in-depth interview. The feedback has been good; you can watch it.”
Wei Jiayi replied: “Okay, I’ll watch it right away,” and then promptly forgot about it, moving on to check his other messages.
To his surprise, Zhao Jing’s mother, Mrs. Li, had sent him a message. She began by criticizing Zhao Jing for his complete lack of social awareness, chastising him for delaying bringing Wei Jiayi home. She then expressed gratitude for Wei Jiayi’s tolerance, inviting him to visit their home for a meal and to formally meet the parents.
Wei Jiayi snapped fully awake, his nerves on edge. With more care than he usually gave to his work emails, he crafted a response to her before continuing to scroll through his messages.
His friends had started inviting him out again. In one close-knit group chat, someone scolded him, saying they had just heard from Luo Ming that Wei Jiayi had found a muscular blue-collar boyfriend and had even bought matching couple rings. One friend asked: “There’s no job discrimination these days, so why not introduce him to us? Got any photos?”
Wei Jiayi thought about how Zhao Jing had been announcing their marriage to everyone left and right. It was only a matter of time before his friends heard from someone else. Deciding it was better to tell them himself, he shared a picture he’d taken on the island—Zhao Jing carrying Lini, his back to the camera.
However, Wei Jiayi still hadn’t figured out how to reveal Zhao Jing’s name to his friends.
He had this feeling that right now, everything was going well—the two of them inseparable, like glue—but that maybe, just as suddenly as their marriage had happened, it could all end without explanation. His friends wouldn’t laugh at him, but Wei Jiayi would become a joke to those who didn’t really know him. Of course, by then, he’d be too heartbroken to care, and he probably wouldn’t care what anyone thought anymore.
After seeing the photo of Zhao Jing’s back, his friends flooded the chat with replies. They meticulously analyzed Zhao Jing’s physique and muscles from head to toe. One even sent Wei Jiayi a private message: “Got any colleagues like him? I can buy them a ring too.”
Wei Jiayi joked with them for a few moments before continuing to scroll.
Among his messages, he found ones from Xiao Chi and his agent. The agent’s approach was more subtle. In the morning, he had asked whether Wei Jiayi had gotten married. Upon confirming it, the agent sent his congratulations and smoothly transitioned into discussing work-related matters.
Xiao Chi, on the other hand, couldn’t contain his excitement. Early in the morning, he had bombarded Wei Jiayi with a flood of celebratory emojis. By midday, he messaged again, saying he’d picked up a wedding gift for Wei Jiayi while out shopping. He added, “Jiayi-ge, I’ll keep your secret safe!”
Lastly, there was a message from the newly added Lawyer Lin.
Lawyer Lin had sent Wei Jiayi a template outlining the financial documentation he needed to submit. He also asked when Wei Jiayi would be available to meet and discuss his expectations, suggesting that a phone call could suffice if he was too busy.
Given Wei Jiayi’s current condition, his voice was hardly suitable for a phone conversation. Besides, he had little skill in such matters, especially those involving money and law, where the gap between him and Zhao Jing felt immense. Just thinking about it made him feel lazy, so he shamelessly forwarded everything the finance department had previously sent him directly to Lawyer Lin and asked: “Will this work?”
Lawyer Lin reviewed the documents for a moment before replying: “Would you be available to take a call?”
Wei Jiayi hesitated but agreed.
“Mr. Wei, good day. Your documentation is very thorough—this will be sufficient.” Lawyer Lin’s voice was elegant and trustworthy. “I mainly wanted to confirm your expectations and see if you have any specific requests I should be aware of before negotiating with Mr. Zhao’s lawyer.”
Wei Jiayi replied, “I don’t think I have any expectations. Do you have any suggestions?” Then, realizing how unprofessional he sounded, he didn’t know how to fix it, so he just added, “Never mind. Just go with whatever he wants.”
Lawyer Lin chuckled. “That’s perfectly fine. No expectations are fine too. I’ve had preliminary discussions with the opposing lawyer, and the proposed terms are largely favorable to you.”
“This includes property division, debt responsibilities, income and profit allocations, trust fund arrangements, cost-sharing agreements, inheritance and gifting clauses, as well as some non-financial terms. It’s all quite comprehensive. If you don’t have any specific concerns, once you submit your financial documentation, the opposing lawyer will draft an agreement. I’ll review it with you, and if there’s anything you’re unhappy with, we can renegotiate. If everything looks good, we’ll finalize and sign it. Does that sound acceptable?”
Wei Jiayi was already tired, and Lawyer Lin’s voice was almost hypnotic. By the time he got to “debt responsibilities,” Wei Jiayi’s mind had wandered, and he only caught snippets like “draft an agreement” and “finalize and sign.” However, from Lawyer Lin’s assurances, it was clear enough that Zhao Jing’s lawyer wasn’t planning anything detrimental to his life, so Wei Jiayi quickly agreed.
After ending the call, Wei Jiayi suddenly remembered his meager remaining mortgage payments and the exaggerated claims and vague hints he had made to Zhao Jing.
For a brief two seconds, he felt guilty. Then he reassured himself—just because the lawyer would look at it didn’t mean Zhao Jing would. Once the draft was prepared, Wei Jiayi would sign it as soon as possible and treat the matter as if it had never happened.
With two hours left before Zhao Jing returned, Wei Jiayi found himself bored. Lying on the bed, he coordinated with his agent to sort through upcoming work commitments. This time, he avoided accepting urgent bookings that would completely fill his remaining downtime over the next two months. He even freed up a few days around the New Year.
Zhao Jing hadn’t made any requests recently, though his agent sighed heavily on the other end. Still, Wei Jiayi managed to convince himself. In all the years since graduating, he had hardly taken any breaks. Cutting back on 20% of the work he didn’t need to take on wasn’t a big deal. More than that, it felt like he had finally found some courage. He no longer wanted to bury himself in work just to escape loneliness—he was also trying to stop and seriously consider loving the part of himself he had always refused to face.
Not long after the consultation, Zhao Jing called. He said, “I’m off work. Heading home now.”
Wei Jiayi wondered why Zhao Jing felt the need to call just to report that. The drive home from his office took twenty minutes. Still, he didn’t want to dampen the mood and simply replied, “Drive safely. Be careful.”
Zhao Jing suddenly paused, his tone turning suspicious. “Why is your voice so hoarse?”
Wei Jiayi noticed the shift in his voice and felt a bit intimidated. Instead of responding, he stayed silent. After a brief pause, Zhao Jing continued, “I’ve been going over the documents the lawyer sent me. Wei Jiayi, how does one person manage to take on so much work in a year?”
Wei Jiayi was caught off guard. Then, in his usual innocent tone, Zhao Jing commented, “I know you’re paying off a mortgage, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were drowning in gambling debts.”
And then, Zhao Jing fell silent.
Wei Jiayi knew exactly what he had just seen. Bracing himself, he could only wait.
As expected, after a moment, Zhao Jing’s voice returned—this time incredulous, tinged with grievance.
“Wei Jiayi, when you said you were saving money to pay the mortgage and working so hard you couldn’t spend time with me… were you talking about the 3,000 you pay every month?”
