Fifty minutes.
Not long, not short.
Lu Pingzhang maintained the same posture, silently watching everything happening inside the restaurant through the glass—cold, towering, above it all.
At one point, Xiao Chang went to the bathroom. When he came back, Lu Pingzhang was still staring, but his eyes looked even darker than before.
Eventually, Qiao Jin and the others emerged. Fu Linxiao and Sui Ran got in their car first. Qiao Jin stood by the entrance for a moment, scanning his surroundings. His eyes finally locked on the car across the street.
Xiao Chang’s hands tightened around the steering wheel as he watched Qiao Jin approaching.
“Drive,” Lu Pingzhang said.
Xiao Chang hesitated, glancing between Qiao Jin crossing the street and his boss. “President Lu?”
“I said drive.” Lu Pingzhang’s voice was calm.
Left with no choice, Xiao Chang started the engine.
Qiao Jin stood there, watching the dark vehicle pull away from the side road, turn onto the main street, and speed off—gone in an instant.
Sui Ran was the one driving. He took the two of them to the sauna. When they got there, he handed Qiao Jin’s coat to the staff at the door. “Get this cleaned and dried. We’ll pick it up tomorrow night. Thanks.”
Qiao Jin held the coat Sui Ran brought out but didn’t put it on.
“Still has the tag—told you it’s brand new,” Sui Ran said.
Qiao Jin smiled slightly and carried the down jacket into the building.
The three of them booked a private room. Fu Linxiao wanted to call in a card dealer for a few rounds of poker, but Qiao Jin declined. “I’ve got a bit of a headache. Gonna skip the cards tonight. Thinking of heading home early and getting some sleep.”
Fu Linxiao waved the staff away.
Qiao Jin changed into sauna clothes and entered the steam room. Sui Ran was already lying on the wooden platform inside, barely visible through the thick white steam.
Qiao Jin took a spot near the door. Sui Ran let out a low laugh.
“Sitting so far away—what, scared I’ll try something?”
Qiao Jin replied, “We’re both guys. What’s there to try?”
His cold really did seem to be getting worse. His nose was more stuffed up than before, and his voice now carried a noticeable nasal tone.
Sui Ran reached over and turned the heat up. The door near Qiao Jin wasn’t fully shut, so he could still breathe in some of the cooler air from outside.
Outside the sauna, Fu Linxiao was busy with something—no one knew what. A staff member had come back and was now standing in front of him, listening as he spoke.
“Sui Ran,” Qiao Jin said, skipping any formalities like calling him President Sui, and just going with his name, “Let’s talk about something. Could you stop trying to hit on me?”
Sui Ran froze, caught off guard by how blunt he was. He let out a short laugh, a little helplessly.
Qiao Jin continued, “You’re a good guy. If you’re open to it, I think we could be great friends. But if it’s anything beyond that, I don’t think it’ll work.”
Sui Ran stretched his arms out lazily and let out a long sigh, but didn’t say anything.
Qiao Jin didn’t think his tone had been harsh, but trying to put himself in the other person’s shoes, he figured it might’ve come across as cold. So he added, “Honestly, after dinner I wasn’t even planning to come here tonight. But I figured I should talk to you face to face and clear things up. You’re a really nice person. I hope we can still be friends.”
Sui Ran had just been handed two “you’re a good guy” cards in a row. He looked even more helpless now. “Not even a little pursuit allowed?”
“Probably best not,” Qiao Jin paused, then said frankly, “I already like someone.”
Sui Ran raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess… President Lu?”
Qiao Jin didn’t confirm or deny. He simply said, “I’d really prefer our friendship to stay clean. That way we can both feel more relaxed around each other.”
Sui Ran had never met someone who laid everything out on the table like this. Qiao Jin’s honesty and calm confidence somehow made him even more attractive.
He couldn’t help how he felt, but he wasn’t the pushy type. He backed off with grace, returning to the polite demeanor he had when they first met. “Alright. Can I just ask one thing? You seem pretty guarded around me. Is it something I did, or some habit I have that makes you keep your distance?”
“It’s just how I am,” Qiao Jin replied. “I’m like this with everyone I don’t know well. It’s not personal—I’m just not super comfortable with this kind of vibe.”
He could handle being quietly admired, but anything ambiguous or flirtatious? That made him uneasy. Even back when he and Lu Pingzhang first got involved, they’d skipped over that whole phase completely.
Sui Ran nodded and sighed toward the wall.
Just then, Fu Linxiao walked in with three massage therapists in tow. He climbed onto the middle wooden platform and asked, “Why’s it so quiet in here? Did dinner wear you guys out?”
Sui Ran let out another deep, theatrical sigh.
Fu Linxiao couldn’t hold back a laugh. He patted Sui Ran on the shoulder, his hand damp from the steam. “Why so moody? What is this—post-breakup blues?”
Sui Ran let out a vague hum, then sat up. “I’m gonna get some water. You guys go ahead with the massage.”
Fu Linxiao watched him walk out the door, then chuckled even harder. He turned to Qiao Jin. “So, you turned him down?”
“Mm,” Qiao Jin said, “not exactly. He didn’t really say anything outright, but I figured I’d give him a heads-up anyway.”
Fu Linxiao clicked his tongue. “Ouch. That’s rough. Sui Ran’s actually not bad—he follows the rules, respects people, and he’s considerate too.”
Qiao Jin looked at him, like he didn’t know where to begin. “Wasn’t it you who said he was no good?”
“When did I say that?”
“You definitely said it,” Qiao Jin replied. “You told me he’s a player, never serious about anyone, and that if I had to pick someone—anyone—I should never pick him.”
“I…” Fu Linxiao was momentarily speechless. He had absolutely no memory of saying that.
Just then, Sui Ran walked back in, having finished his water. As he stepped through the door, Fu Linxiao glanced at him, then doubled down to finish his sentence. “…I didn’t mean it. I was just talking out of my ass. You have to figure people out for yourself.”
Sui Ran stood there, visibly confused, no idea what trap he’d just walked into. He looked between the two of them. “What are you guys talking about?”
Both Fu Linxiao and Qiao Jin glanced at him—then turned away at the exact same time. “Nothing.”
That day’s schedule hadn’t been packed, but because they’d switched venues halfway through, it had dragged on longer than planned.
Even though ten o’clock at night was barely the beginning of nightlife for most, by Qiao Jin’s usual standards—especially back when he was staying at the Lu family home—it was already late.
He showered at the sauna and returned to the hotel clean but drained, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.
The moment he unlocked and opened the door, he knew something was off.
The room lights snapped on all at once. Lu Pingzhang was sitting on the edge of the bed, hand still on the switch, staring directly at him.
In the hotel’s cool-toned lighting, his gaze carried a slight chill. It wasn’t so different from his usual half-lidded way of looking at people—unreadable, quiet, heavy.
Qiao Jin was dressed in a black down coat, the scarf he’d worn earlier now clutched loosely in one hand, probably taken off right after entering the hotel.
Lu Pingzhang raised his wrist and glanced at the time. Who knew how long he’d been waiting—his expression was heavy, but not the least bit tired.
And strangely, despite that look, he didn’t lash out. He just stared at Qiao Jin’s coat. “Not that late.”
Qiao Jin stayed by the door. His hair was still slightly damp, combed back to reveal his forehead, which gave him a more cutting, austere look.
Lu Pingzhang looked at him and said in a low voice, “Come here.”
Qiao Jin swallowed and moved. He hung his scarf on the rack, took off his coat, and hung that too.
He stepped to the bedside and tried to keep his tone natural. “Did you need something?”
Lu Pingzhang looked like he wanted to pull him into an embrace—but held himself back at the last second. “Did you drink?”
Qiao Jin frowned slightly, as if something unpleasant came to mind. “No. Xiao Chang said I couldn’t.”
Lu Pingzhang ignored the thread of protest buried in those words and instead glanced toward the coat rack. “Whose coat is that?”
“A friend’s,” Qiao Jin said quietly, eyes downcast. “Why are you here?”
Lu Pingzhang stared at the coat like he wanted to set it—and the whole coat rack—on fire. But he only narrowed his eyes and looked away, cold and silent.
“I said I’d spend your birthday with you,” he said flatly, reaching for a stack of papers on the table and handing them, along with a pen, to Qiao Jin. “Sign this.”
Qiao Jin glanced down—it was the old house in the neighboring province that had been up for auction a while back.
What Lu Pingzhang was holding was a gift agreement and a name-change application. With Qiao Jin’s signature, the property would be his and his alone.
Qiao Jin didn’t take it. “If it’s a birthday gift, you could’ve had Xiao Chang bring it to me.”
Lu Pingzhang stared at him, and all he could see was Qiao Jin having hotpot with someone else in a private room.
He’d been eating, sweating it out in a sauna, wearing someone else’s coat—and strolling back to the hotel at ten o’clock like it was no big deal.
And meanwhile, Lu Pingzhang had been sitting in this room in the dark, waiting two full hours, and he couldn’t even get a decent greeting in return.
It seemed, in Qiao Jin’s world, he didn’t even rank above Xiao Chang.
All the anger Lu Pingzhang had been choking down the whole night suddenly snapped. He grabbed Qiao Jin and shoved him back onto the bed.
His kiss came fast and fierce, like a fuse catching fire—intent on claiming, on consuming.
Qiao Jin’s skin, still soft from the steam room, felt like silk beneath Lu Pingzhang’s hands. He pressed against the small of his back, lingering, testing boundaries—and Qiao Jin immediately felt the danger in it.
He tried to push back with his knee, but Lu Pingzhang easily pinned him down.
Qiao Jin turned his head away and dodged the next kiss, breathing hard. “Let me go.”
Lu Pingzhang didn’t bother with pointless questions like ‘Can I?’—he just leaned in again.
Qiao Jin managed to wrench a hand free and slapped him—hard enough to catch his jaw and neck.
Then he froze.
“I didn’t mean—sorry. I shouldn’t have come today at all.”
He hadn’t used much force, but Lu Pingzhang had never been treated like that before.
His expression darkened completely. Fury rose behind his eyes, his breath growing sharp and heavy in his chest.
Qiao Jin didn’t dare let his guard down. He raised his hand between them. “Let me go.”
Lu Pingzhang didn’t move away. Instead, he pressed in closer, thigh against him, voice low and rough: “We’re already here—and you still won’t give in?”
Qiao Jin’s face changed. It was only in moments like these that the contrast between daytime Lu Pingzhang and this version of him became starkly clear.
“Lu Pingzhang.” Qiao Jin was visibly angry now, brows drawn tightly together. He spoke each word slowly, deliberately—this was the third time he said it: “Get off.”
Lu Pingzhang stared at him like he was grappling with an impossible choice.
Deals worth billions at the negotiating table couldn’t shake him the way this did.
Qiao Jin knew: the worst thing he could do right now was flinch.
If Lu Pingzhang sensed even the tiniest hint of fear or hesitation, he’d strike like a lion in heat—possessive, territorial, and vicious.
So Qiao Jin held his gaze.
No one spoke. A long moment passed.
Then, suddenly, Lu Pingzhang gave a short, sharp laugh—and let go. “Don’t be so tense.”
Qiao Jin quickly got up, picked up the pen, and signed his name on the documents. He handed them back. “All done.”
Lu Pingzhang glanced at them, then put them back into the document folder on the table.
“Anything else?” Qiao Jin asked.
Lu Pingzhang sat at the edge of the bed, clearly aroused, and didn’t move. He had never felt this stifled before. “Go to sleep. I’ll leave once you’re down.”
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