Xiao Chang circled around downstairs for another forty minutes before Qiao Jin finally woke up, his voice hoarse as he asked,
“Are we home?”
He sat up and looked out the window. Lu Pingzhang’s arm had gone numb, but he didn’t react—just stayed seated without moving.
“Almost,” he said.
Xiao Chang parked outside. The two of them got out and stood at the start of the path leading through the garden. Lu Pingzhang glanced at the time.
“I’ll be a while. You head in first. Take a hot shower.”
“A while” usually meant he was going to smoke.
“Okay,” Qiao Jin answered softly.
He’d just woken up and was still speaking slowly. Under the streetlights, his eyes didn’t have their usual daytime sharpness, but they still shone clearly.
“The doctor said—no intense activity. You… haven’t forgotten, right?”
He’d really been overworked lately, using the same old excuses to get by.
Lu Pingzhang looked at him. The shoulder line of his coat sat perfectly straight and tall. He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and bit it between his lips.
“I remember.”
Qiao Jin turned to leave, but Lu Pingzhang called out to him again.
“Wait. Light it for me.”
Qiao Jin looked up at him, but couldn’t read anything from that eternally unreadable expression.
He reached into Lu Pingzhang’s coat pocket and pulled out the lighter. With a soft click, the lid popped open.
The blue-orange flame flickered to life, casting a warm, muted glow over his hand and face. He raised the lighter, shielding the flame from the wind, and leaned in to light the cigarette for him.
Lu Pingzhang took two steps back, exhaling smoke away from him.
“Go on.”
Qiao Jin didn’t hand back the lighter. He held it in his hand as he turned and walked into the house.
Lu Pingzhang watched him go in. He saw the lights inside come on. A few seconds later, the bedroom light turned on too.
Then he looked out across the glowing lights of the city, before turning his eyes back to this home—ordinary like any other, yet utterly unique.
He finished his cigarette and stayed downstairs for a while longer. Inside him, a slow, boiling heat mirrored the sound of water that should’ve been running in the bathroom by now—thick, warm, and restless.
Tonight, Qiao Jin really didn’t want to do anything. When he heard the sound of the door opening, he shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
He thought Lu Pingzhang would wake him—he was always intense, driven by desire, and rarely subtle.
Or maybe he’d just climb on top of him, no pretense.
But Lu Pingzhang didn’t.
He turned off the lights, took a quick shower, moved quietly—so quietly he didn’t even trigger the voice-activated hallway light. Then he slipped under the covers, gently placed a hand on Qiao Jin’s waist, and pulled him into his arms in a half-embrace.
A few minutes later, the sound of steady breathing came from behind him.
Lu Pingzhang didn’t do anything. He just fell asleep.
In the darkness, Qiao Jin opened his eyes. The moonlight was mostly blocked out, letting in just a faint sliver.
The room was quiet and warm. The rhythm of their breathing was gentle, almost melodic. Slowly, their heartbeats and breaths fell into sync.
After a moment, Qiao Jin closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep.
The alarm went off several times the next morning before Qiao Jin finally struggled out of the cozy bed on this early winter morning.
He had taken the weekend off, but it didn’t feel like a break at all. If anything, he was more exhausted than he was on workdays.
Lu Pingzhang had left a long time ago. The spot beside him was already completely cold.
Qiao Jin reflected in silence for a few minutes, then sluggishly got up and headed to the office.
As expected, he was late again.
This time, Zheng Rongguang didn’t scold him. In fact, he seemed to be in an unusually good mood and even greeted him cheerfully.
“Good morning! Young folks always struggle to get up in winter—we get it.”
Qiao Jin glanced at the thermos in his hand and greeted him back.
“Good morning. Middle-aged men don’t have it easy either—goji berries in a thermos. Gotta take care of your health, President Zheng.”
Zheng’s mouth twitched, and he immediately turned around and walked off.
The HR department was celebrating another win, full of laughter and chatter. Qiao Jin smiled and walked through the crowd toward his office.
Yu Feng followed him, arms full of documents.
“President Qiao Jin, I sent you a friend request yesterday. Could you approve it when you have time?”
Qiao Jin didn’t break his stride.
“Sure.”
Yu Feng still trailed after him, so Qiao Jin stopped, turning slightly to let him pass.
Yu Feng hesitated.
“I—It’s fine. I’m not in a rush.”
Qiao Jin chuckled, glanced at what he was carrying.
“Already so busy just after joining?”
Yu Feng gave a quick “Ah!” and explained,
“These are my own things. I’ve been moving recently, and it wasn’t convenient to ship them, so I brought them to the office for now.”
Qiao Jin said kindly,
“If your desk can’t fit everything, you can keep them in my office for now.”
Yu Feng’s eyes widened. He hesitated before asking,
“Is that really okay?”
Qiao Jin nodded.
“Thank you, thank you!” Yu Feng looked relieved, like a man saved from drowning, and followed him into the office.
Qiao Jin directed him where to put the things, then glanced at the photo sitting on top.
“A graduation photo?”
“Yeah,” Yu Feng picked it up and showed him, “Brother Qiao Jin, can you spot me in it?”
Qiao Jin took the photo and studied it. There were a lot of people, so it wasn’t easy to pick someone out right away. But then, a photo in the corner caught his eye.
It was a small, square ID photo with a blue background, stuck to the top-right corner. The person in the photo had a bright smile, full of youthful energy. His facial features looked remarkably like… Lu Pingzhang.
But far younger—even younger than Lu Pingzhang had been three years ago.
And Lu Pingzhang would never smile like that. Not so vibrant. Not so carefree.
Qiao Jin stared at the photo. He felt like he knew who it was, but the coincidence still seemed too uncanny.
“This is… Lu Pingzhang… Boyang?”
“You know him?” Yu Feng was standing across from him. His eyes briefly lit up before dimming again with a trace of sadness.
“Yeah, that’s Boyang. We were roommates. It’s a shame he’s already…”
No wonder Lu Pingzhang had resisted letting Yu Feng join the company. With that kind of connection between them, hearing Yu Feng’s name must have been like rubbing salt in an old wound.
Qiao Jin felt guilty.
He shouldn’t have kept pressing Lu Pingzhang about Lu Boyang. It must have been incredibly painful for him to recall.
Around noon, Qiao Jin called Lu Pingzhang.
It was his secretary who picked up.
“Hello, Mr. Qiao Jin.” The ringtone had gone on for a while before Secretary Yin finally picked up in a hurry. “Do you need anything?”
“Hello,” Qiao Jin replied. “When will President Lu be free?”
“President Lu is currently playing tennis with the CEO of Arctic Pictures,” Secretary Yin answered in a tone that sounded more like he was being questioned about someone’s whereabouts. “Ruoyi is planning to branch into film and invest in Arctic Pictures. They should be done in about twenty minutes. Would you like me to pass along a message, or should I have him return your call when he’s done?”
“No need.” Qiao Jin declined, then after a brief silence, asked, “Will President Lu be coming home tonight?”
Maybe he had never asked this kind of question before, because the usually quick-witted Secretary Yin actually hesitated for a moment.
“…He hasn’t said anything yet,” he replied, quickly switching back to his standard professional tone. “Would you like me to check?”
“No, no need.” Qiao Jin sounded a little frustrated. He had always avoided the question of where Lu Pingzhang went when he didn’t come home.
He didn’t hang up, and neither did Secretary Yin. The line went quiet.
“I’ll just text him,” Qiao Jin said. “He can check it after he’s done.”
“Understood,” said Secretary Yin.
Qiao Jin hung up and composed a message to Lu Pingzhang:
I shouldn’t have brought up the past the other day. I wasn’t thinking. Don’t be upset. I won’t bring it up again.
Whenever you’re coming home next, I’ll make spare ribs and shrimp to make it up to you.
It was one of his best dishes, though he didn’t make it often because it required deep-frying.
Lu Pingzhang liked it a lot, but since it filled the kitchen with smoke and oil, and he worried it might irritate Qiao Jin’s eyes, they rarely had it.
Qiao Jin read the message over a few times, then added:
Any day is fine.
About twenty minutes later, Lu Pingzhang replied:
Okay.
Qiao Jin didn’t quite know what that meant. Even by the end of the workday, Lu Pingzhang hadn’t messaged again. Qiao Jin took that as a sign he wouldn’t be home for dinner, so he ate at the office before leaving.
Fu Linxiao had been waiting for Qiao Jin at the gym for a while.
When Qiao Jin came over with a fresh towel, Fu couldn’t help but comment,
“You can’t be working overtime every single day. Your company’s work culture is insane.”
Qiao Jin was doing warm-ups beside him.
“Don’t even start. I’m exhausted.”
Fu sat down to rest, waiting for others around them to clear out before asking,
“So… where did you and President Lu go on Sunday?”
“The auction.” Qiao Jin remembered and asked, “That Sui Ran guy—he your friend? What’s he like?”
“In what way?” Fu leaned back on the mat, giving him a look like it was a long story.
“He’s a player. If you dumped Lu Pingzhang for someone else, I could maybe understand. But if it’s for him? Definitely not worth it.”
Qiao Jin didn’t take the bait.
“You’re overthinking it.”
Fu only dared to tease like this when Lu Pingzhang wasn’t around. He chuckled for a bit, then said,
“He told me about it—you snagged the book he was trying to buy. You don’t even like that stuff. Why’d you fight a bookworm over a rare manuscript collection?”
“Lu Pingzhang wanted it,” Qiao Jin said.
“President Lu doesn’t seem like a book nerd either,” Fu stroked his chin and leaned in. “Was he gonna gift it? Who to?”
“No idea.” Qiao Jin couldn’t help but smile.
“Buzz off.”
Fu laughed too.
“Well, since you ended up with it, maybe let Sui Ran sweeten the deal and sell it to him.”
Qiao Jin looked at him.
They locked eyes for a few seconds before Fu looked away with a frown and muttered,
“Damn, I knew I was the wrong guy to say this. Even as a middleman, I’m not cut out to go up against you.”
Qiao Jin patted him on the shoulder, resumed stretching, and said as he regulated his breath,
“Why not? Gifts are fine. Just don’t think you can get something for nothing.”
Fu bumped him with his shoulder, playfully.
“What kind of gift you want?”
Just then, Da Da jogged over to them.
“You’re here, bro! I’m almost done on my side.”
Qiao Jin waved him off.
“Go do your thing. I’ll work out on my own for a bit.”
Dada had the kind of bright, sunny smile that made him stand out even in a gym full of fit people. “Thanks, bro. I’ll be done soon—just wait for me!”
He jogged back to the other side. As soon as he was gone, Fu Linxiao leaned over to Qiao Jin and whispered,
“He’s got a sweet mouth on him. You should learn a thing or two. Imagine if you started calling President Lu ‘bro’—now that would be spicy.”
Qiao Jin scoffed.
“Would that even come close to calling him Daddy?”
Fu Linxiao gave him a thumbs-up and backed off toward his mat.
“I’ll stop right there.”
Actually, when Qiao Jin had first moved into Lu Pingzhang’s place, he had called him “bro” a few times. Back then, Lu Pingzhang was thrilled.
But after they’d slept together, anytime Qiao Jin called him “bro” again, Lu Pingzhang’s face would cloud over with an unreadable expression—his eyes dark, stormy. Eventually, Qiao Jin just stopped saying it altogether.
Thinking back, it probably had something to do with Lu Boyang. That word must’ve stirred up painful memories.
Qiao Jin sighed and pulled out his phone for a quick glance. Lu Pingzhang still hadn’t messaged him with a time to come home.
Fu Linxiao sighed too.
“It’s still early,” he teased. “Your house rules are strict, huh?”
Qiao Jin put his phone down. It was hard to explain how he felt—like he was being pulled in too many directions, with no place to land.
He said quietly,
“That thing I asked you to look into… maybe don’t bother anymore.”
Fu Linxiao gave him a confused look.
Qiao Jin rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Feels kind of rude.”
“Get lost,” Fu snorted with a laugh. “I already treated him to dinner and gave him a gift. The guy owes me something, even if I don’t push him for answers.”
Qiao Jin had a gut feeling that Lu Pingzhang was going out of his way to hide things about Lu Boyang. Even if there were scars and painful memories, it was unlike him to erase every single trace.
But he didn’t want to keep digging. He didn’t want to hurt Lu Pingzhang.
