Chapter 2

Yu Feng sat nervously in the spacious, well-lit office, his palms gradually dampening with sweat.

From the moment Qiao Jin hung up the phone, he had returned to his usual self—calm, composed, neither warm nor cold, as if every rule and procedure were already etched in his mind.

The sunlight lit his face, blending him seamlessly with the minimalist, monochromatic decor of the office.

Yu Feng asked in a small voice, “Can I treat you to a meal?” Before Qiao Jin even looked over, he quickly added, “Whenever it works for your schedule.”

Qiao Jin paused, then that poised, well-mannered smile appeared on his face. “Sure.”

Yu Feng broke into a quick grin, visibly pleased, then hesitantly said, “Well… I’ll get back to work then?”

Qiao Jin gave him a small nod. “Keep it up.”

He didn’t watch Yu Feng leave. Instead, the phone rang again.

It was nearly year-end, and the company needed to finalize employee benefits and the annual event schedule. On top of that, two departments were merging—some new hires needed to be brought in, and some people had to be laid off.

No wonder Zheng Rongguang was constantly breathing down his neck with that passive-aggressive tone—his nephew was on the preliminary layoff list.

After a full day of work, just before closing time, Zheng Rongguang showed up again.

“Flexible hours, huh? Director Qiao Jin always clocks out half an hour later. We’ve kept the lights on just for you,” he said, deliberately emphasizing the words Director Qiao Jin. With a sigh, he added, “Young people these days are a bit too ruthless. Has Brother Lu Pingzhang mentioned anything to you about Yu Feng?”

“He did.” Qiao Jin leaned his head on one hand and tapped lightly on his temple.

Zheng Rongguang straightened his back a bit more, though he still tried to look relaxed and casual. “See? I knew it. I’ve been with Brother Lu Pingzhang ever since I graduated—we built this place together from the ground up.”

Qiao Jin looked at him and gave a thumbs-up, his expression no different from when he told Yu Feng, Keep it up. “Impressive, impressive.”

Zheng Rongguang chuckled twice, then hesitated before asking, “So… what exactly is your relationship with Brother Lu Pingzhang?”

Qiao Jin opened his mouth, the corner of his lips curling into a smile that revealed nothing. “Why don’t you take a guess?”

Zheng Rongguang actually started guessing. “Father and son?”

Before Qiao Jin could deny it, he shook his own head. “No, the age difference doesn’t quite fit, and you’ve got different last names. Besides, Brother Lu Pingzhang’s not married.”

Qiao Jin motioned for him to keep going, while picking up a pen to sign the topmost document.

Zheng Rongguang continued, “Nephew? Cousins, maybe?”

Qiao Jin suddenly realized he’d just signed the wrong name—Lu Pingzhang instead of his own. Probably a side effect from signing it too many times last night in the study.

He tried dialing his assistant’s extension, but no one picked up. Figuring they had already gone home, he got up and reprinted the form himself.

Zheng’s eyes followed him across the office. He stood up as if to follow, then sat back down again. “I’ve never heard of Brother Lu Pingzhang having any close relatives.”

Qiao Jin re-signed the document correctly, then grabbed the little bag of cookies a young female coworker had given him earlier that afternoon. He paused at the doorway.

“Director Zheng, my apologies,” he interrupted politely, much more formal than usual. “My workday’s over. I’ll be heading out now. Make yourself comfortable.”

Then came a crisp click as he shut off the lights.

“Hey!” Zheng’s angry voice rang out in the pitch-black office, followed by the screech of his chair dragging across the floor. “You’ve gone too far lately—no respect at all! Qiao Jin, I’m still your senior, you know. I’m in the same generation as Brother Lu Pingzhang!”

Qiao Jin didn’t bother engaging with his rambling attempts to assert seniority. If we’re being honest, he thought privately, it’s not even clear who ranks above who in the pecking order.

He exited his private office and walked through the long, open workspace.

“Director Qiao Jin,” Yu Feng had been waiting near the entrance. As soon as he saw Qiao Jin come out, he jumped to his feet nervously. “You’re done with work?”

Qiao Jin hadn’t had time to wipe the smile off his face, so Yu Feng caught the full look.

“I—” the young man glanced away, then quickly looked back, “about that dinner I mentioned…”

Qiao Jin finally remembered. With a small laugh and a sigh, he said, “Sorry, totally slipped my mind.”

“That’s okay,” Yu Feng said quickly. “Do you… have time tonight?”

Zheng Rongguang emerged from the darkened office behind them, leaning against the doorway. He managed to stay quiet for a whole few seconds before letting out a sarcastic laugh. “So that’s how he got the job offer—had someone pulling strings for him.”

Yu Feng instantly panicked, but Qiao Jin acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing, walking toward the exit. “Let’s talk while we walk.”

Seeing he was really going to leave, Zheng Rongguang followed behind, trying to cut a deal. “Tell you what—take Xiaowei off the layoff list, and I won’t press the issue about you fast-tracking the new guy. Let’s just… call it even, yeah?”

Qiao Jin didn’t respond.

Zheng Rongguang added, “Otherwise, I’ll keep bringing it up with Brother Lu Pingzhang.”

Qiao Jin glanced at his watch.

It was exactly six o’clock. He had more than enough time to grab dinner and still make it home at a decent hour. Even if he stayed out a little later, it wouldn’t matter—Lu Pingzhang had gone home early last night and probably wouldn’t be back tonight. And even if he was, it wouldn’t be early.

As Qiao Jin stepped out of the building, his pace slowed.

Lu Pingzhang’s car was parked right out front. Its sleek, dark silhouette practically blended into the night.

Qiao Jin rarely misjudged Lu Pingzhang’s schedule.

To be safe, Qiao Jin hesitated for a moment, then told Yu Feng, “Let’s have that meal another day. I have something to deal with today.”

“Mm,” Yu Feng nodded quickly. “Okay.”

Maybe it was because Qiao Jin was the one who hired him, but he had a bit of a fledgling attachment to him, instinctively placing his trust in Qiao Jin.

Qiao Jin gave a poised, elegant smile toward Zheng—who was standing behind Yu Feng with a face gone pale—then opened the passenger side door without hesitation.

“President Lu Pingzhang isn’t busy today?” Qiao Jin asked the driver while fastening his seatbelt.

The driver looked at him but said nothing. The next moment, he turned his head back and glanced toward the back seat.

Qiao Jin paused in his movements and followed the gaze.

Lu Pingzhang—who was usually so swamped with work that he didn’t even have time to breathe, often having to take video meetings on the road—was actually sitting there in the back seat.

The car fell silent for a few seconds.

Lu Pingzhang glanced at him, still leaning back in the rear seat without moving.

Qiao Jin couldn’t figure out this sudden turn of events, but after a moment of hesitation, he quietly unbuckled the seatbelt he’d just half-fastened, obediently stepped out from the front passenger seat, and got into the back—sitting beside Lu Pingzhang.

Only then did Lu Pingzhang move slightly, his hand brushing over the back of Qiao Jin’s hand.

Qiao Jin had just come in from the late autumn wind, underdressed for the season. His hands were already cool to the touch, and now they flinched instinctively from the contact.

Lu Pingzhang lifted his eyelids and looked at him. The shadows cast from his eyes were deep; when he wasn’t smiling, his face showed almost no lines.

Qiao Jin didn’t dare move again.

There was a soft knock at the window—two light taps.

Lu Pingzhang glanced outside. The driver rolled the window down.

Outside stood Zheng, face plastered with a broad smile. “Brother Lu Pingzhang, what brings you over here?”

Lu Pingzhang maintained his neutral expression and moved his lips slightly: “I came to pick him up from work.”

There was no doubt who “him” referred to.

At that moment, Qiao Jin was sitting in the shadows behind Lu Pingzhang, his face completely devoid of the ease he had displayed earlier in the day—or the sly grin he’d worn while teasing Zheng.

The inside of the car was dim. Just as Zheng Rongguang leaned in, trying to get a clearer look, Lu Pingzhang cut him off.

“Old Zheng.”

Zheng Rongguang responded, slightly taken aback. Somehow, the tone reminded him of how Qiao Jin had addressed him that morning.

He stood there waiting eagerly, trying to gauge Lu Pingzhang’s mood.

Lu Pingzhang said, “He’s young. There are some things in the company he might need help with—when that time comes, lend him a hand.”

Leaning slightly into the open window, Zheng Rongguang tried to absorb the implication behind those words. His eyelids nearly started twitching.

“Of course,” he said with a hearty laugh, not daring to call Qiao Jin Xiao Qiao Jin anymore. “President Qiao Jin is here now—you can rest easy. Everything will go smoothly.”

The window slowly rolled back up. Lu Pingzhang didn’t move, still gazing out at the night.

“That was the new guy—Yu Feng?” he asked.

Qiao Jin was surprised he knew the name. Someone like Lu Pingzhang, sitting at the top of the pyramid, wouldn’t bother remembering the name of a junior employee for no reason.

Qiao Jin made a mental note to find out more about Yu Feng’s background tomorrow.

Lu Pingzhang gave his evaluation: “Average.”

Qiao Jin neither confirmed nor denied it. The car was warm and comfortable now, his hands had regained some warmth, and he gently touched the back of Lu Pingzhang’s hand.

Lu Pingzhang’s expression remained unreadable, but after a moment, he flipped his hand over and laced his fingers with Qiao Jin’s. “Have you eaten?”

Qiao Jin always spoke plainly when he was with Lu Pingzhang—like a pearl hidden away in a shell, unseen by the world. “No.”

He paused, then took out the half box of cookies he had left and showed them to Lu Pingzhang. “Unless you count these.”

Lu Pingzhang frowned. “Who gave them to you?”

“A colleague,” Qiao Jin replied.

He had no particular fondness for snacks like this. Under Lu Pingzhang’s influence, he’d developed the habit of eating proper meals at regular times. The only “treat” he kept around was a few pieces of candy for low blood sugar.

Especially since the packaging of this cookie box was pink.

Lu Pingzhang paused. “A female colleague.”

“Mm.” Qiao Jin said, “Can’t remember exactly.”

Lu Pingzhang looked away and instructed the driver in a low voice, “Go eat.”

The dark, quiet front end of the car slid silently into the night. From dinner to the return home, Qiao Jin still couldn’t figure out what Lu Pingzhang’s real purpose had been that evening.

But it no longer mattered—so long as Lu Pingzhang came home at night, he would always follow through.

Qiao Jin wasn’t particularly demanding in that regard. In fact, he was rather indifferent. His needs ebbed and flowed entirely based on how many times Lu Pingzhang came back in a month. Unscheduled, unmeasured.

His phone rang in the dim room. The longer he didn’t pick up, the louder it got.

Finally, a hand—slender and well-proportioned—emerged from the tangle of blankets, its long fingers just managing to grab the phone before the ringing stopped.

Qiao Jin accidentally tapped “answer,” and a bright, cheerful voice came through:
“Qiao Jin-ge, how come you didn’t come to the gym today?”

Qiao Jin struggled to steady his uneven breathing.

The voice continued,
“Ge, it’s Dada. Can you hear me clearly?”

Behind him, the man didn’t stop—acting as though this brief interruption was entirely inconsequential.

Qiao Jin pressed his forehead to the bed, burying his voice in the covers. Both of his weak spots were firmly in someone else’s grasp—he didn’t dare move, let alone make a sound.

Lu Pingzhang gestured for him to speak.

“…Coach, something came up today,” Qiao Jin gritted out, clutching the phone tightly, trying to slow his breathing. “I’ll come tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright!” the voice on the other end responded quickly, then paused before asking curiously,
“What are you doing right now?”

Qiao Jin was completely pinned down, unable to move an inch.

He couldn’t let out another sound—any noise would give him away.

Lu Pingzhang propped himself up and hooked an arm around Qiao Jin’s waist, lifting him slightly.

Qiao Jin couldn’t bear the intensity of his overwhelming possessiveness, and a muffled, indistinct sound slipped out.

In the next second, Lu Pingzhang reached over and hung up the call himself.