Chapter 12

The party on the ship was scheduled for Saturday because among the invited guests were two people for whom wearing a three-piece suit was a critical moment—if they carried it off well, they could take power from their fathers; if not, they might have to continue “training” for another three to five years.

It wasn’t Nie Jun’s shift that day, so the night before, he had already informed Hai Ming that he wanted to join the mission.

As Hai Ming boarded the ship, he said, “Since you go on every mission anyway, why not just become a team leader? That way you’d never miss one.”

Wearing a windbreaker, Nie Jun followed him up the gangway. “What about when there are no missions?”

“Sleep,” Hai Ming replied, surprised. “What a great opportunity. Sure, the work hours aren’t regular, but the downtime is long.”

Kong Wenyu walked at the very front. Nie Jun thought he might turn his head and glance back when entering the cabin, but he didn’t—he went in without looking, followed closely by the team leader, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

The team leader stood guard at the door. Hai Ming entered next, and Nie Jun followed.

Inside the cabin, Ao Yongwang was standing with Yu Jiaduo. Ao Qingqing wasn’t by his side—whether she hadn’t come or had gone off somewhere else was unclear.

Yu Jiaduo spotted Kong Wenyu first. He set down his wine glass, smiled, and spread his arms. “I told you he’d definitely come.”

Kong Wenyu smiled as well. “Didn’t your aunt say water clashes with you this year and forbid you from getting on a boat?”

“I told her I was going to talk serious business. She just waved her hand and told me to get lost quickly,” Yu Jiaduo said with a laugh. “Come on, let’s take a picture together to send her. Otherwise, she’ll think I’m defying her.”

Kong Wenyu stepped over to him. Yu Jiaduo pulled out his phone, then said, “Battery’s dead. Use your phone.”

Kong Wenyu handed over his phone, letting him take the picture.

The photo album was right next to the call log. After snapping the shot, Yu Jiaduo accidentally tapped the call history. Seeing the most recent contact, he raised an eyebrow. “A call at three in the morning, over five minutes long. Is this ‘N’ your new kept lover?”

Not far away, Nie Jun’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t look over. He just lowered his hands and silently stood against the cabin wall.

Kong Wenyu didn’t explain. He simply retrieved his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

Yu Jiaduo’s eyes brightened, and he was about to keep teasing, but Ao Yongwang walked over. “I was just about to go out to meet you. The ship’s about to depart—I was worried you might not come.”

Kong Wenyu ignored that comment. Since he was already here, he switched to polite small talk. “For President Di’s sake, of course I had to come.”

Ao Yongwang paused briefly before saying, “With you here, negotiations with President Di will go much more smoothly.”

Kong Wenyu wasn’t trying to flatter anyone. He casually replied, then lifted his eyes. “The lighting’s this dim—how the hell are you supposed to do business?”

Unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt with deliberate ease, he strolled inside.

The host of the evening, Di Xun, was in there playing cards. The dealer wore a half-open burgundy lace shirt as she pushed chips toward the center.

Spotting Kong Wenyu, Di Xun smirked. “Well, well. An honored guest.”

Kong Wenyu sat on the leather sofa, crossed his legs, and let out a soft scoff. “It’s a new era, President Di. Do you still have to make business talks look like some shady deal? You can talk anywhere—not just in an office.”

Di Xun toyed with the chips in his hand. “That’s the whole point—the atmosphere. Care to join for a few hands?”

“I get seasick,” Kong Wenyu said flatly. “You all go ahead and talk business early. At most I’ll stay for half an hour, then I’m heading to my room to sleep.”

Ao Yongwang followed him in. “If you’re seasick, eat something first and rest for the night. You can play in the morning.”

Di Xun’s gaze flicked between Ao Yongwang and Kong Wenyu, and a curious smile spread across his face.

“No need to rush into business. Let’s relax first.” He tossed down the chips, gestured to the table, and then turned to Ao Yongwang. “How about a few hands together?”

The Di family had just struck a deal with the Ao family, thanks to Kong Wenyu’s connection. Kong Wenyu’s ties to Yu Jiaduo had helped set it up—despite some hiccups along the way, they had finally managed to form a partnership, at least on paper.

“Alright,” Ao Yongwang agreed, not wanting to refuse him, and sat across from the table. “Wenyu, want to play too?”

One of the temporary players at the table stood up to give up a seat. A young man next to Di Xun asked if he wanted water, then held a glass up for him to sip.

Yu Jiaduo, used to such scenes, sat down nearby. Kong Wenyu remained composed and calmly took the seat across from him.

Di Xun motioned to the dealer to deal the cards.

What had just happened was merely small talk and posturing. Now that the real players were stepping in, the true game began.

The dealer started the first round, dealing the cards. Everyone before Kong Wenyu called the bet. When it came to him, he leaned on the table and asked, “What’s the chip value?”

“One chip, a hundred thousand,” Ao Yongwang said, grabbing a handful and pushing them over. “These are on me.”

Kong Wenyu glanced at him but said nothing.

A young man beside Di Xun lit his cigarette. Di Xun took a drag, smiled, and said, “How considerate of my dear future brother-in-law. I think Miss Qingqing’s quite a looker. You may not know how to cherish a delicate beauty, but I do. I should ask the young lady later—see if she’s interested in me instead.”

So Ao Qingqing was here after all, just not in the room at the moment.

Ao Yongwang waited. Kong Wenyu also took a cigarette but had no lighter. Nie Jun, standing behind him, stepped forward and click—ignited the flame.

Without looking at him, Kong Wenyu exhaled a stream of smoke, glanced at his cards, and calmly pushed forward ten chips. “If President Di is stealing my fiancée,” he said, “what exactly do you plan to do with me?”

Di Xun tilted his head toward him, smirking. “You? I already have plans for tonight.”

Even though the engagement was more political than personal—Ao Yongwang himself kept a string of mistresses—it was still a blatant slap in the face to say it outright.

When the dealer passed him his cards, Ao Yongwang neither called nor folded. He just lit a cigarette, clenched it between his teeth, and leaned back, stalling for time.

Kong Wenyu looked around the table, then drew back his gaze and blew smoke to the side.

Nie Jun, standing just behind him, had been watching him closely. When Kong Wenyu unexpectedly turned his head, Nie Jun froze.

Caught off guard by that look, memories of everything that had happened in the locked room days ago surged into his mind. Nie Jun’s breath stalled for several seconds. The hand hanging by his side slowly curled into a fist.

—Kong Wenyu was still looking at him.

The tension around the table was palpable.

Ao Yongwang remained silent, and the game couldn’t move forward. Di Xun’s patience began to thin.

Bodyguards on both sides shifted slightly, ready to act at the first signal.

But Kong Wenyu seemed completely unconcerned. He flicked the ash off his cigarette and once again fixed his gaze on Nie Jun.

His eyes were always like that—half-lidded, carrying a careless sort of scrutiny.

In that locked room, he had looked the same: outwardly cold and detached, yet beneath the table—chaotic, reckless. Those teasing, wandering toes, that arrogant gaze… in the dim light, there had been nowhere to hide.

Nie Jun hadn’t had an easy few days since. The memory of that touch clung to him like a shadow. Whenever it came to mind, he had to get up and take a cold shower.

Keeping his expression blank, he drew a deep breath, forcing down the restless thud of his heartbeat.

“It’s starting,” Hai Ming reminded him quietly from the side.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kong Wenyu was still watching. Nie Jun’s fingers twitched, brushing against the condom tucked in his pocket. He didn’t answer.

Someone cleared their throat, trying to ease the tension. “Man, my back’s killing me from sitting here.”

“A real man doesn’t admit back pain,” Di Xun joked, then told a waiter across the room, “Go get someone to give him a massage.”

The waiter hurried off.

Kong Wenyu casually turned back to the table, his gaze sweeping over the chips. “Whose turn?”

Ao Yongwang blinked, pulled out of his daze. “Mine.”

Kong Wenyu tapped the ash from his cigarette, his long fingers casually holding the half-burned stick above the chips. “Hesitating over this little money? I thought the Ao family’s business was doing pretty well this year.”

Di Xun, unfazed, let out a short laugh. “I have a girl who saw the famously handsome Mr. Kong at last year’s charity auction. She’s been thinking about you ever since, begging me to make an introduction. She doesn’t want your name, your wealth—nothing but a chance to pour her heart out. Of course, something like that only works if both sides are willing. What do you say?”

Yu Jiaduo immediately whistled. “That’s so sweet, even I’m tempted. Can she pour her heart out to me instead?”

Kong Wenyu rested one hand on his cards, showing little reaction. “If President Di wants to give someone away, at least make it a good one.”

“Oh?” Di Xun’s eyes gleamed. “Which one do you think is good?”

Kong Wenyu lifted his chin slightly toward someone behind Di Xun. “He’s good.”

The hand resting on Di Xun’s shoulder tightened slightly. Kong Wenyu said, in a tone almost regretful, “Of course, these things only have meaning if both sides are willing.”

Di Xun stared at him for a moment, then curved his lips into a smile. He turned to the young man behind him. “Rare that Mr. Kong thinks highly of you. Laisheng, go offer him a drink.”

Yuan Laisheng paused, withdrew his hand, and indeed turned to pour wine.

He quickly returned, holding two glasses of red wine. He extended one toward Kong Wenyu. “Thank you, Mr. Kong.”

The secretary following Kong Wenyu immediately stepped forward and explained quietly, “Our boss hasn’t been well lately and shouldn’t drink. I’ll drink for him.”

He reached for the glass, but the other didn’t let go. Di Xun seized the moment. “What era are we in, Wenyu? Still letting your secretary drink in your place? That’s not very sincere.”

Kong Wenyu smiled faintly for a few seconds, lifted the hand holding his cigarette slightly backward, and the bodyguard standing by the door—Nie Jun—was about to move when Hai Ming stepped up first, arriving at the card table.

Kong Wenyu stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’ll give you the day off today.”

Hai Ming reached out for the wineglass. “President Di, our boss really isn’t feeling well—he even took medicine before coming out. Would you allow me to drink this for him instead?”

During assignments, bodyguards were strictly forbidden to consume alcohol, let alone a chief bodyguard whose role was to remain constantly alert to the employer’s safety.

For a moment, Di Xun hesitated. Kong Wenyu casually pressed his palm over his cards and smiled faintly at the group. “On President Di’s ship, what could I possibly need to worry about?”

Di Xun exhaled, visibly relieved, nodding. “You’re right.” He smiled, glancing at Yuan Laisheng, who was still holding the two glasses. “If you say it’s fine, then it’s fine.”

Yuan Laisheng paused briefly, then released his grip. Hai Ming took the glass, tipped his head back, and drained it in one go.

Yuan Laisheng also drank his glass, then went to pour two more.

Hai Ming glanced at Kong Wenyu, while Di Xun pressed a smile at the corner of his lips, also watching Kong Wenyu.

Kong Wenyu raised his hand slightly, and Hai Ming continued to down the drinks.

Someone fetched more wine. The two of them kept drinking, glass after glass, with no one calling for a stop—openly competing in front of everyone.